Hostage, part 6
Apr. 10th, 2007 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thatotherpervok guys. I think my break did what it needed to, and I think I'm still going to be on Fandom-Lite for a while...I'm gonna chill out and catch up on yall's fic a little at a time, so it might take me a bit
anyway, more Hostage, yay!
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vamptastica
Title: Hostage
Author: Author: Mel (thatotherperv formerly btvslover82)
Pairing: Angelus/Dawn/evil!Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Angelus and Spike come to Sunnydale to kill the slayer, they find more interesting prey.
Warnings: um, lots. not all of which I'm willing to specify. for starters, these guys are evil and soulless, and will behave as such the whole way through. even after they're soft on Dawn, they do some pretty unconscienable things to her. elements of non-con. and Dawn is 17, so where I live that's legal but *shrugs*. very politically incorrect in places, but if it comforts you, it's more of a demon/human thing than a male/female thing ;)
Disclaimer: not mine, but ain't they pretty?
A/N: how is this fic AU? Angelus never got a soul, so the boys were never separated. Darla and Dru wandered off at some point, possibly in 1894 when the Immortal was such a hot stud ;) Dawn is only 3 years younger than Buffy, so she's 17 in this fic.
previous parts are here
Previously:
“Hold still, or I’m going to knock you out.”
Instantly the fight went out of her, though she still smelled enticingly terrorized. He adjusted the collar he’d bought and fastened it around her neck quickly, then pushed to his feet.
Dawn stared up at him. Still scared. Now confused as well.
“Stay.”
Angelus brandished a finger at her with the instruction and watched the stubborn set of her mouth at being ordered like a dog. Then he turned and wandered out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.
part 6
Ok. That was…not what she’d expected. Dawn touched the collar at her throat, hand still shaking a little with the fright Angelus had given her. When he’d gotten on top of her, she thought he was going to…. She could tell he was excited.
She took a deep breath and gathered herself.
This collar kind of pissed her off. Was this supposed to be her punishment? Being humiliated like a puppy? Or was that coming later? Maybe this was just…decoration, or some weird kink.
She peeked around the corner of the bathroom, but he wasn’t anywhere in the bedroom. She heard a car start in the driveway outside.
Dawn scrambled to her feet and ran to the window. Angelus was driving away in Spike’s car. Maybe not Spike’s. Everything seemed to belong to Angelus.
Including her.
She pulled at the collar again, trying to work the buckle, but it was locked on. And it wasn’t like there was anything sharp enough in the room to cut through the leather. She’d already checked the bathroom for a weapon during her long, suspenseful afternoon. Dawn slumped against the wall, frustrated.
That’s when she saw that the door was open.
Not unlocked. Just…open. Wide open. It was the first time it had been that way since she arrived—they always locked it. Always.
She stared at it in disbelief for ten seconds before she bolted for it. She could run out to the road and wave someone down. Once she got to her house, there was nothing they could do, and Buffy would go after them, and everything would be—
Dawn yelped when the jolt seized her body two feet inside the door, frozen in a convulsion for one frightening second before she crumpled to the ground. Her body tingled, and the hair on her arms stood on end.
What the fuck was that? She felt along the edge of the collar before she encountered two short metal discs along the back of her neck.
He’d put her in…a fucking shock collar! Was he insane? You didn’t just put a human being in a fucking shock collar! In her rage, Dawn steadfastly ignored the voice sensibly reminding her that being human probably didn’t mean much, to Angelus.
It only made her more determined to leave. She’d just throw herself through the field that triggered the collar, and once she was outside of it, she’d run like hell. Once she was beyond the sensors that triggered the jolt, she’d be free. She knew how these things worked. Janice had one for her dog, because it wasn’t too bright and always tried to run away from home.
Dawn tried to ignore that little irony.
Her plan was solid in theory, but…Dawn couldn’t seem to get through the field. She received one jolt as she started towards the door again, smaller than the last. Then another just inside the doorframe. She flung herself into the hall, muscles aching now from the seizing contractions, and got another, larger jolt of electricity, nearly as big as the first. It knocked the air from her lungs, and she fell to the ground again, already dizzy from hunger. Hurting. Frustrated. Scared.
But she crawled another couple feet before another minor sizzle along her skin frightened her into stillness.
Dawn didn’t realize she was weeping until familiar arms folded around her and lifted her from the carpet.
“Told him you wouldn’t learn your lesson in one go.”
She curled into the disgruntled sound of Spike’s voice, too weary with the longest day of her life to care that she shouldn’t be clinging to a monster for comfort. Shouldn’t be crying herself sick in front of him. Shouldn’t be showing weakness. When he eased onto the bed, she didn’t let go. Just clung and cried like a baby while Spike cooed at her like she was one, murmuring and rocking her and pressing his lips to her hair, and it was too comforting to piss her off.
The little voice in her head that she called Never Like Buffy chastised her for breaking down and giving in less than 24 hours after her abduction. Buffy would have said something clever and played the advantage right out of their hands and looked perfectly put together the whole time, not splotchy and scratched up and slobbering all over a hot guy’s shirt.
Not a hot guy, Dawn. A vampire. Buffy never would have been in this situation in the first place, because she would have seen right through him. She’d never have dated a vampire and not had a clue.
And Buffy sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed that vamp after he’d kidnapped her, held her hostage, refused to feed her, and let his buddy run an electrical current through her body.
But Dawn was wrung out and hurting and when Spike’s comfort-soaked kisses dropped from her hair to her cheek to her mouth—Dawn kissed back. She froze and took the attention that his mouth offered her, and when his hands ran possessively over her body, instead of slapping him, she pushed herself closer and moved her lips against his.
Bad Dawn.
But it felt good, when his tongue tangled into her mouth. It wasn’t scary, it was familiar. It felt good when his fingers, warmed from comforting her, slid under the hem of her top and toyed with the nipple that was naked because Dawn had decided not to wear a bra that night, to the theater. She’d wanted to put that look on his face, the one he had now. The twist and pluck of his fingers at her breast sent warm liquid feelings to her lower belly, and it was ok to do this. They weren’t hurting anybody.
Well, she wasn’t. And neither was he, just this second.
Spike had been sort of coy on all their dates about pushing her along sexually, coaxing Dawn further than she wanted to go. He was so smooth about it that she often didn’t notice what he’d done until she got home and wrote about the way he touched her in her diary.
He was pretty darn direct now.
He pulled Dawn’s top over her head without preamble and latched his mouth onto her tit as his fingers slid up under her skirt. She didn’t have panties anymore—had lost those in the theater when he’d…taken them off, and had been more than a little embarrassed about the updraft in the car, sitting next to Spike’s friend. But then she’d had bigger problems, and her lack of underwear hadn’t seemed to matter much.
Spike worried her clit roughly, unzipped the skirt right off of her hips, and tossed it while she spread for him in a way that would have been mortifying if she could have held onto a solid thought. He seemed to have plenty, lewd ones that he growled against her throat—literally, in a rumbling timbre that said ‘predator’ and made Dawn’s hair stand on end.
Made her a little wetter, too.
When Spike tore down the zipper of his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, Dawn expected him to plunge straight into her for one terrifying second. When he simply stroked himself against her without penetrating, she barely had time to register the wash of relief before the slick rub of his cock over her open body had her full and undivided attention.
Oh god, she thought her heart was going to explode, because the rest of her was about to, and he was thrusting against her so damn fast that she couldn’t catch her breath, and when she felt a sharp, searing pain against her throat and then suction like a hickey, she knew she was food. He was moaning like she was dessert, actually, and why was it that sometimes mortal terror translated right into lust—you’d think that trait would have been the first to go, evolution-wise.
But it wasn’t, and Dawn came. Hard. Arching off the bed and keening, fingers scrabbling at blond hair, and Spike clutched her closer and thrust and thrust and then shuddered in a wet, sticky gush. And it all felt so good.
And when he went still on top of her, he went really still, vampire still, not panting to catch his breath. His weight wasn’t unpleasant, but Dawn felt self-conscious now and distantly in need of a shower, as soon as she could feel her feet again.
Spike sniffed at her neck a little and licked at it, and when he finally pulled back to look at her, he looked way too pleased with himself. He looked human. Not just…not-demon, but actually human. If you ignored the way his mouth was smeared with blood, until he licked it from his own lips.
He stroked her cheek and grinned at her, cocky. “I cure what ailed you, Platelet?”
Dawn couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. She had a feeling it was crazy-laughter but it didn’t even matter if she sounded nuts now. He was naming her after a clotting factor, and he was so freaking full of himself that she couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. He started laughing with her, his eyes warm, and she thought maybe he knew she was laughing at him and didn’t really care.
She wouldn’t call him harmless—not after he’d just taken her on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride while using her for a snack, and now expected her to thank him for it—but she wasn’t particularly scared of him, just this second.
Spike caught her up in a laughing kiss, and she tried to ignore that he tasted like pennies. Her pennies.
He nuzzled into her throat, attracted there on instinct. “Sweet to hear you giggle, kitten. Could be just like this, you know. Be a good pet, and I won’t have to use that retched thing on you again.”
Some of the mirth left her. “What thing?”
Spike fished into his jean pocket and Dawn blushed at the view she caught of his penis resting against her own thigh. She’d never seen one in person before. She was flustered enough that when Spike held up a small rectangular box, Dawn didn’t get it.
“What is that?” There was a dial and two buttons….
He gestured at her throat. “Remote control. Electronic leash.”
It took her a minute, but then she understood. Understood and felt abruptly ill. She stiffened. “You did that to me. Made me…you were pushing a button?”
Spike’s eyes went flat, face serious. “I corrected you when you didn’t do as you were told, yes.”
“And you just…. After you….” Dawn huffed in disbelief, eyes wide, and pushed herself away from him, out from under him. She hugged the bedsheet over her body. Her voice was rough and low. “Get away from me.”
“This thing is far kinder than what he could have done to you, believe me. We’re bein’ right lenient with you.”
He sounded righteously defensive. Her voice climbed in volume and pitch. “He didn’t do it, did he? Get out.”
“I know you haven’t really made his acquaintance yet, luv, but when Angelus means business, it’s best not to cross him, and you’ll do well to remember that.”
“Get out!” She shoved at him with her feet, trying to dislodge him from the bed. It was childish, but she was about to cry, and she wouldn’t do that in front of him. Not for a second time. She’d been a fool to trust him. Again.
So she held onto her tears until after he had slammed the door and she’d pulled her clothes on, feeling too naked to be nude. Then Dawn let herself curl up in the middle of the big bed that belonged to a dead woman, and cried her heart out.
~*~*~*~
then Angelus gets home...
A/N: I feel duty-bound to point out that technically, a platelet is not a clotting factor. The term 'clotting factor' refers essentially to hormones that trigger coagulation. But Dawn doesn’t know that, and nobody cares, so I’m just gonna shut up now.
anyway, more Hostage, yay!
banner by the fantastic and talented
vamptasticaTitle: Hostage
Author: Author: Mel (
thatotherperv formerly btvslover82)Pairing: Angelus/Dawn/evil!Spike
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Angelus and Spike come to Sunnydale to kill the slayer, they find more interesting prey.
Warnings: um, lots. not all of which I'm willing to specify. for starters, these guys are evil and soulless, and will behave as such the whole way through. even after they're soft on Dawn, they do some pretty unconscienable things to her. elements of non-con. and Dawn is 17, so where I live that's legal but *shrugs*. very politically incorrect in places, but if it comforts you, it's more of a demon/human thing than a male/female thing ;)
Disclaimer: not mine, but ain't they pretty?
A/N: how is this fic AU? Angelus never got a soul, so the boys were never separated. Darla and Dru wandered off at some point, possibly in 1894 when the Immortal was such a hot stud ;) Dawn is only 3 years younger than Buffy, so she's 17 in this fic.
previous parts are here
Previously:
“Hold still, or I’m going to knock you out.”
Instantly the fight went out of her, though she still smelled enticingly terrorized. He adjusted the collar he’d bought and fastened it around her neck quickly, then pushed to his feet.
Dawn stared up at him. Still scared. Now confused as well.
“Stay.”
Angelus brandished a finger at her with the instruction and watched the stubborn set of her mouth at being ordered like a dog. Then he turned and wandered out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.
part 6
Ok. That was…not what she’d expected. Dawn touched the collar at her throat, hand still shaking a little with the fright Angelus had given her. When he’d gotten on top of her, she thought he was going to…. She could tell he was excited.
She took a deep breath and gathered herself.
This collar kind of pissed her off. Was this supposed to be her punishment? Being humiliated like a puppy? Or was that coming later? Maybe this was just…decoration, or some weird kink.
She peeked around the corner of the bathroom, but he wasn’t anywhere in the bedroom. She heard a car start in the driveway outside.
Dawn scrambled to her feet and ran to the window. Angelus was driving away in Spike’s car. Maybe not Spike’s. Everything seemed to belong to Angelus.
Including her.
She pulled at the collar again, trying to work the buckle, but it was locked on. And it wasn’t like there was anything sharp enough in the room to cut through the leather. She’d already checked the bathroom for a weapon during her long, suspenseful afternoon. Dawn slumped against the wall, frustrated.
That’s when she saw that the door was open.
Not unlocked. Just…open. Wide open. It was the first time it had been that way since she arrived—they always locked it. Always.
She stared at it in disbelief for ten seconds before she bolted for it. She could run out to the road and wave someone down. Once she got to her house, there was nothing they could do, and Buffy would go after them, and everything would be—
Dawn yelped when the jolt seized her body two feet inside the door, frozen in a convulsion for one frightening second before she crumpled to the ground. Her body tingled, and the hair on her arms stood on end.
What the fuck was that? She felt along the edge of the collar before she encountered two short metal discs along the back of her neck.
He’d put her in…a fucking shock collar! Was he insane? You didn’t just put a human being in a fucking shock collar! In her rage, Dawn steadfastly ignored the voice sensibly reminding her that being human probably didn’t mean much, to Angelus.
It only made her more determined to leave. She’d just throw herself through the field that triggered the collar, and once she was outside of it, she’d run like hell. Once she was beyond the sensors that triggered the jolt, she’d be free. She knew how these things worked. Janice had one for her dog, because it wasn’t too bright and always tried to run away from home.
Dawn tried to ignore that little irony.
Her plan was solid in theory, but…Dawn couldn’t seem to get through the field. She received one jolt as she started towards the door again, smaller than the last. Then another just inside the doorframe. She flung herself into the hall, muscles aching now from the seizing contractions, and got another, larger jolt of electricity, nearly as big as the first. It knocked the air from her lungs, and she fell to the ground again, already dizzy from hunger. Hurting. Frustrated. Scared.
But she crawled another couple feet before another minor sizzle along her skin frightened her into stillness.
Dawn didn’t realize she was weeping until familiar arms folded around her and lifted her from the carpet.
“Told him you wouldn’t learn your lesson in one go.”
She curled into the disgruntled sound of Spike’s voice, too weary with the longest day of her life to care that she shouldn’t be clinging to a monster for comfort. Shouldn’t be crying herself sick in front of him. Shouldn’t be showing weakness. When he eased onto the bed, she didn’t let go. Just clung and cried like a baby while Spike cooed at her like she was one, murmuring and rocking her and pressing his lips to her hair, and it was too comforting to piss her off.
The little voice in her head that she called Never Like Buffy chastised her for breaking down and giving in less than 24 hours after her abduction. Buffy would have said something clever and played the advantage right out of their hands and looked perfectly put together the whole time, not splotchy and scratched up and slobbering all over a hot guy’s shirt.
Not a hot guy, Dawn. A vampire. Buffy never would have been in this situation in the first place, because she would have seen right through him. She’d never have dated a vampire and not had a clue.
And Buffy sure as hell wouldn’t have kissed that vamp after he’d kidnapped her, held her hostage, refused to feed her, and let his buddy run an electrical current through her body.
But Dawn was wrung out and hurting and when Spike’s comfort-soaked kisses dropped from her hair to her cheek to her mouth—Dawn kissed back. She froze and took the attention that his mouth offered her, and when his hands ran possessively over her body, instead of slapping him, she pushed herself closer and moved her lips against his.
Bad Dawn.
But it felt good, when his tongue tangled into her mouth. It wasn’t scary, it was familiar. It felt good when his fingers, warmed from comforting her, slid under the hem of her top and toyed with the nipple that was naked because Dawn had decided not to wear a bra that night, to the theater. She’d wanted to put that look on his face, the one he had now. The twist and pluck of his fingers at her breast sent warm liquid feelings to her lower belly, and it was ok to do this. They weren’t hurting anybody.
Well, she wasn’t. And neither was he, just this second.
Spike had been sort of coy on all their dates about pushing her along sexually, coaxing Dawn further than she wanted to go. He was so smooth about it that she often didn’t notice what he’d done until she got home and wrote about the way he touched her in her diary.
He was pretty darn direct now.
He pulled Dawn’s top over her head without preamble and latched his mouth onto her tit as his fingers slid up under her skirt. She didn’t have panties anymore—had lost those in the theater when he’d…taken them off, and had been more than a little embarrassed about the updraft in the car, sitting next to Spike’s friend. But then she’d had bigger problems, and her lack of underwear hadn’t seemed to matter much.
Spike worried her clit roughly, unzipped the skirt right off of her hips, and tossed it while she spread for him in a way that would have been mortifying if she could have held onto a solid thought. He seemed to have plenty, lewd ones that he growled against her throat—literally, in a rumbling timbre that said ‘predator’ and made Dawn’s hair stand on end.
Made her a little wetter, too.
When Spike tore down the zipper of his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, Dawn expected him to plunge straight into her for one terrifying second. When he simply stroked himself against her without penetrating, she barely had time to register the wash of relief before the slick rub of his cock over her open body had her full and undivided attention.
Oh god, she thought her heart was going to explode, because the rest of her was about to, and he was thrusting against her so damn fast that she couldn’t catch her breath, and when she felt a sharp, searing pain against her throat and then suction like a hickey, she knew she was food. He was moaning like she was dessert, actually, and why was it that sometimes mortal terror translated right into lust—you’d think that trait would have been the first to go, evolution-wise.
But it wasn’t, and Dawn came. Hard. Arching off the bed and keening, fingers scrabbling at blond hair, and Spike clutched her closer and thrust and thrust and then shuddered in a wet, sticky gush. And it all felt so good.
And when he went still on top of her, he went really still, vampire still, not panting to catch his breath. His weight wasn’t unpleasant, but Dawn felt self-conscious now and distantly in need of a shower, as soon as she could feel her feet again.
Spike sniffed at her neck a little and licked at it, and when he finally pulled back to look at her, he looked way too pleased with himself. He looked human. Not just…not-demon, but actually human. If you ignored the way his mouth was smeared with blood, until he licked it from his own lips.
He stroked her cheek and grinned at her, cocky. “I cure what ailed you, Platelet?”
Dawn couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. She had a feeling it was crazy-laughter but it didn’t even matter if she sounded nuts now. He was naming her after a clotting factor, and he was so freaking full of himself that she couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. He started laughing with her, his eyes warm, and she thought maybe he knew she was laughing at him and didn’t really care.
She wouldn’t call him harmless—not after he’d just taken her on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride while using her for a snack, and now expected her to thank him for it—but she wasn’t particularly scared of him, just this second.
Spike caught her up in a laughing kiss, and she tried to ignore that he tasted like pennies. Her pennies.
He nuzzled into her throat, attracted there on instinct. “Sweet to hear you giggle, kitten. Could be just like this, you know. Be a good pet, and I won’t have to use that retched thing on you again.”
Some of the mirth left her. “What thing?”
Spike fished into his jean pocket and Dawn blushed at the view she caught of his penis resting against her own thigh. She’d never seen one in person before. She was flustered enough that when Spike held up a small rectangular box, Dawn didn’t get it.
“What is that?” There was a dial and two buttons….
He gestured at her throat. “Remote control. Electronic leash.”
It took her a minute, but then she understood. Understood and felt abruptly ill. She stiffened. “You did that to me. Made me…you were pushing a button?”
Spike’s eyes went flat, face serious. “I corrected you when you didn’t do as you were told, yes.”
“And you just…. After you….” Dawn huffed in disbelief, eyes wide, and pushed herself away from him, out from under him. She hugged the bedsheet over her body. Her voice was rough and low. “Get away from me.”
“This thing is far kinder than what he could have done to you, believe me. We’re bein’ right lenient with you.”
He sounded righteously defensive. Her voice climbed in volume and pitch. “He didn’t do it, did he? Get out.”
“I know you haven’t really made his acquaintance yet, luv, but when Angelus means business, it’s best not to cross him, and you’ll do well to remember that.”
“Get out!” She shoved at him with her feet, trying to dislodge him from the bed. It was childish, but she was about to cry, and she wouldn’t do that in front of him. Not for a second time. She’d been a fool to trust him. Again.
So she held onto her tears until after he had slammed the door and she’d pulled her clothes on, feeling too naked to be nude. Then Dawn let herself curl up in the middle of the big bed that belonged to a dead woman, and cried her heart out.
~*~*~*~
then Angelus gets home...
A/N: I feel duty-bound to point out that technically, a platelet is not a clotting factor. The term 'clotting factor' refers essentially to hormones that trigger coagulation. But Dawn doesn’t know that, and nobody cares, so I’m just gonna shut up now.
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Date: 2007-04-12 09:49 pm (UTC)glad you liked it!