Hostage, part 11
Jun. 24th, 2007 08:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thatotherpervyes, an honest-to-god update, though it could probably benefit from more polishing than I gave it. thanks to everyone for being so patient waiting for an update of this story. it was appreciated!
it was delayed because I got oddly stressed out over the plot, such as it were. which is stupid, as I reminded myself, because the WHOLE POINT of this fic was my old fandom kinks. period. that is its merit, haha. it just happens that the plot is one of the kinks. so I told myself to chill out, and here we are.
this still isn't new material, actually. this was all written before the Writer's Block hit. *shrug* I keep a lot of stuff packed away for safe-keeping. it's kind of deceptive, for me posting does not equal writing.
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vamptastica
Title: Hostage
Author: Author: Mel (thatotherperv
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 unconscionable things to her. elements of non-con. Daddykink. 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:
Angelus was tired of hearing Dawn complain about his boy, when he had given her one mild physical punishment six weeks ago. He was tired of secreting Spike away in another bedroom, when he belonged in Angelus’ bed.
It was especially tiresome to walk all the way down the hall to take the boy, when he should have been able to just roll over.
And he wouldn’t admit it to Spike, but he missed his company.
Angelus was done being patient. His plan was a rather blunt one, because he no longer saw the need to be subtle.
Part 11
Angelus was daft.
‘I’m growing tired of the way she complains about you,’ he’d said. ‘She liked you well enough before. She just needs to be reminded how much. Besides, she worships the ground I walk on and licks my bloody boots and wouldn’t dream of kicking up a fuss about who I tell her to shag—’
Okay, maybe Spike was embellishing on that last bit. Point was, Angelus thought he could just throw Spike into bed with Dawn, decree their differences resolved, and it would be so. Spike had narrowly avoided snorting in his face, because after a century or so, he had learned that if you were going to go behind Daddy’s back about something, it was best to not give him a tip-off ahead of time.
Or else getting your bum paddled wasn’t really the thing you had to look forward to.
The trouble was, Angelus could mindfuck with the best of them, but manipulation of the benign sort was a bit of a novel practice. He didn’t really know how to bend women without breaking them. He just thought he did.
Lucky for both of them, Spike excelled at his true role in Angelus’ life…to save him from himself, long before he knew he needed saving.
So Spike held his tongue (mostly) while Angelus revealed his bloody brilliant plan, and bided his time till the master of the house absented himself for the evening.
Then he slipped into the bedroom that was strictly, expressly off-limits. Frankly, he was shocked he hadn’t snuck in here before now.
The room was very dark once the door shut behind him, but Spike could still make out Dawn, curled into the middle of the mattress, breath even with sleep. She was keeping vampire hours now, for the most part, but her ticking human clock still demanded a nap in the night, while Angelus was hunting. Helped that he usually tumbled her before he went out.
Spike drew close to the bed and studied the soft rise and fall of her bare chest.
Pretty little thing. She looked tousled and peaceful, pale skin glowing softly against the dark sheets, and she smelled of Angelus, which really, in the end, meant that she smelled of them.
She was theirs. It satisfied something deep inside him.
When Spike slipped carefully into the bed and brushed her hair gently from her face, she stirred and nuzzled close to him like a puppy.
She was warm and bare and oh-so-sweet, and he enjoyed the boon of her sleepy affection while it lasted.
Because inevitably, her heartbeat sped and her muscles tensed and her eyes opened already glaring.
She pushed away from him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her voice was rough with sleep, and when she squinted into the dark, unable to make out his features, Spike clicked on the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over them both.
Immediately, she pulled the top-sheet up to her neck and hunkered down, as if he’d never seen all her bits. Pity.
He leered anyway. “Miss me, did you?”
His grin was answered with a scowl. “About as much as you miss the electric chair.”
He tipped her a look, eyes drifting pointedly to her collar and back. “Exaggerating just a bit, aren’t we?”
“What do you want.”
Anger flattered her. The flush of her cheek, the flash of her eyes. The flex of her jaw. Spike reached out to stroke his knuckles over soft, heated skin, and she lashed out. Hit him, mad kitty, fuming when he took a firm but painless grip on her wrists. A short battle of wills ensued.
When he got around to answering her question, his tone was mild. “Missed you, is all.”
Dawn made a very un-lady-like snort, but Spike could be very dense when it suited him.
“What’s the matter, luv, you don’t believe me?”
She wriggled further under the sheet. “No.”
He studied her face until she looked away. “Well you’d be wrong. Thought about you, sweet, not just that lovely body. Though….” His eyes wandered away, to the figure poorly concealed from him. “Might have thought about that a time or two as well.”
When Dawn tried to yank her hands away in a fit of pique, he shut her down.
“That was meant to be a compliment,” he clarified.
“Fuck you.”
“Now, now, let’s not go making offers we’re not willing to follow through on. ‘S not nice to tease a bloke.”
The tenseness of her body gave out abruptly. “You hurt me.”
Her voice was small, and the sweep of her lids did nothing to conceal from him the tears gathering in her eyes.
Spike sighed through his nose. This was the downside of their approach with Dawn—treating her gently, granting her some small measure of respect. She retained illusions about who and what they were. The conviction that affection and pain were mutually exclusive, for one. While it benefited Dawn in the long run that Angelus reign himself in, that particular notion would not most certainly not.
So he’d best correct it now.
“I’m not going to apologize.”
Dawn’s eyes rounded and she tried to jerk away from him again. “Get out.”
Rage smelled so bloody good on her. She’d be a lovely demon, someday.
“No, I don’t think I will.” Her heart skipped even faster when he shifted his hold on her, the pad of his thumb running softly along her pulse. “Why do you think I’m not apologizing?”
“Because you’re a dick.”
He smiled at that, all teeth. “My, my, the lady’s got such naughty language. But as it happens, that’s not the case this time. I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry.”
“And that’s what makes you a di—”
“What exactly am I meant to be sorry over, hmm? Wanting you? Lying to you? Bringing you here to be with me? Not a chance, pet.” He leaned closer, eyes locked on hers. “Maybe I’m meant to be sorry for exacting a little discipline that leaves no mark, in order to protect you in the long run. Well, I’m not sorry for any of those things. Doesn’t work that way, luv.”
She stiffened considerably at the word ‘protect,’ chin lifting defiantly at the last. “Oh yeah, and how does it work, asshole?”
His grip tightened on her wrist until she winced. It would mark, but he was through playing. “For one thing, you don’t call me names like that. Ever.
“For another: I want you. I have you. Simple as that.”
She stared at him, speechless. Probably too pissed for words. There was a protracted period of silence.
“You’d better get all those human notions of love and sex out of your head quick, pet. They won’t serve you well here, and it’s only going to make this difficult and painful. We’re demons. We don’t ask permission, and we don’t give consideration, and we like to hurt things. We get off on inflicting pain, and we don’t like it when the food gets uppity. You’re property now, get it? And no amount of affection for you is going to change any of that. All those ideas you have planted about how a man is meant to treat you mean fuck-all here. I’m not a man. Neither is Angelus.”
Spike felt a twinge of sympathy for the tears that welled up, loosening his grip on her wrists to something more like affection. “You think I don’t know that?”
“No,” he said quietly, “I don’t think you really do. How’s Angelus treating you, luv?”
The change of subject threw her visibly. “He’s fine. He’s not the one that likes to hurt me.”
He actually laughed at that, out loud. Had a good laugh at that. Christ, she really didn’t get it. “Oh, he loves hurting you, pet. Has you begging for it, I’d wager. What he does best, really. Does he spank you, pet?” There was no resistance this time, when he brushed the back of his hand over her heated cheek. “Or yank your hair…bruise this pretty skin with a hard grip. How long does he make you wait to come?” he murmured. Her eyes had long since dropped from his. “Has you doing exactly as he likes, hasn’t he? Still think he’s Prince Charming?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were, luv. But he’s the expert.”
She was silent for a moment, and he let her be. Stroked her skin, letting his fingers follow the line of her arm, now that she’d forgotten to be hostile.
“I’m not…. Just because I….”
“No, I don’t think less of you, kitten. Never crossed my mind.”
Her eyes met his in a flicker of surprise.
“Let me ask you something, now that we’ve established Angelus’ impure motivations. What would have happened, do you think, if you’d gone on as you were before I taught you that harsh little lesson? If you’d kept mouthing off and running off and generally fighting him at every turn?” He was assaulted with a distinct wave of fear as she thought it through. “Yeah, precisely. There wouldn’t have been snuggling in your future, that’s for sure. He breaks people for fun, luv. I can tell you stories if you like.”
“No.” She was quick on the draw, though he’d had no intention of doing so. It was better, for her to be afraid but not terrified. Better if Angelus was not reminded that he liked the smell of fear a bit too much, for these circumstances.
“Look, I’m not trying to scare you, pet. Or maybe I am. These are lessons I want you to learn quickly, so that you don’t do something you’re going to regret. You’re lucky Angelus has taken a liking to you. He can be very dangerous. But just because he fancies you and is amused by your metaphorical knackers doesn’t mean you’re safe from him. And just because I’m not the one making the scary faces…you’re not safe from me either.”
Spike searched her eyes, trying to gauge if he’d gotten through to her, but it was hard to tell beyond the fact that he’d overwhelmed her. If it was possible, she’d curled in smaller on herself. He curled his fingers loosely around one bruised wrist and brought her palm towards his face, kissing it and soothing over the force he’d used with a light touch.
“I’m not sorry that you’re mine, kitten. You can’t ask me to be that. And I’m not sorry that I did whatever was necessary to get you here. But I do regret that I scared you.”
She took a deep breath and watched him silently, confused and troubled and just a little hopeful, though she’d clearly rather not be.
“And I do regret making you feel less than precious to me.”
Surprise, chased away quickly by more jumbled emotions. But she let him kiss her—briefly and sweetly, though he wanted to take more, once he’d had a taste of her.
When he sat up and folded her hand towards her chest, she pulled it under the covers with the rest of her, all cocooned in fine linen. His hand strayed one last time to her hair, fingering a lock. Then he stood to leave.
“We didn’t have this conversation. Take a shower ‘fore he gets back. He’ll know, but there’s no use rubbing his face in it.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
“What did you do to her?”
Never mind that Angelus could smell Spike all over the bed…the lingering presence of smoke and bleach and family. The girl herself was acting very odd. Withdrawn, and strangely agreeable.
Spike blinked up at him innocently, which they both knew was such utter bullshit. “Who?”
Angelus snorted and didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“Just had a little chat, is all. If you think she’d just let me shag her, mad as she was, you’re daft.”
“That is not a girl who just had a little chat. She’d being all….” Angelus gestured with disgust. “…obedient. And quiet.”
There was a ghost of a smile on Spike’s face. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”
“What did you say to her, Spike? If you fucked up all my hard work—”
“Oh, leave off, Angelus. It’s fine. Your little game is intact. Maybe even a bit farther along. You should be thanking me, really.” He waited a beat, smug smile spreading over his face. “Not that I did anything at all, because I wouldn’t dream of disobeying a direct order.”
Angelus glared at him a while longer, made a sound of disgust, and retreated back into the bedroom.
mmm? what's that? you want threesome sex?
it was delayed because I got oddly stressed out over the plot, such as it were. which is stupid, as I reminded myself, because the WHOLE POINT of this fic was my old fandom kinks. period. that is its merit, haha. it just happens that the plot is one of the kinks. so I told myself to chill out, and here we are.
this still isn't new material, actually. this was all written before the Writer's Block hit. *shrug* I keep a lot of stuff packed away for safe-keeping. it's kind of deceptive, for me posting does not equal writing.
banner by the fantastic and talented
vamptasticaTitle: Hostage
Author: Author: Mel (
thatotherpervPairing: 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 unconscionable things to her. elements of non-con. Daddykink. 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:
Angelus was tired of hearing Dawn complain about his boy, when he had given her one mild physical punishment six weeks ago. He was tired of secreting Spike away in another bedroom, when he belonged in Angelus’ bed.
It was especially tiresome to walk all the way down the hall to take the boy, when he should have been able to just roll over.
And he wouldn’t admit it to Spike, but he missed his company.
Angelus was done being patient. His plan was a rather blunt one, because he no longer saw the need to be subtle.
Part 11
Angelus was daft.
‘I’m growing tired of the way she complains about you,’ he’d said. ‘She liked you well enough before. She just needs to be reminded how much. Besides, she worships the ground I walk on and licks my bloody boots and wouldn’t dream of kicking up a fuss about who I tell her to shag—’
Okay, maybe Spike was embellishing on that last bit. Point was, Angelus thought he could just throw Spike into bed with Dawn, decree their differences resolved, and it would be so. Spike had narrowly avoided snorting in his face, because after a century or so, he had learned that if you were going to go behind Daddy’s back about something, it was best to not give him a tip-off ahead of time.
Or else getting your bum paddled wasn’t really the thing you had to look forward to.
The trouble was, Angelus could mindfuck with the best of them, but manipulation of the benign sort was a bit of a novel practice. He didn’t really know how to bend women without breaking them. He just thought he did.
Lucky for both of them, Spike excelled at his true role in Angelus’ life…to save him from himself, long before he knew he needed saving.
So Spike held his tongue (mostly) while Angelus revealed his bloody brilliant plan, and bided his time till the master of the house absented himself for the evening.
Then he slipped into the bedroom that was strictly, expressly off-limits. Frankly, he was shocked he hadn’t snuck in here before now.
The room was very dark once the door shut behind him, but Spike could still make out Dawn, curled into the middle of the mattress, breath even with sleep. She was keeping vampire hours now, for the most part, but her ticking human clock still demanded a nap in the night, while Angelus was hunting. Helped that he usually tumbled her before he went out.
Spike drew close to the bed and studied the soft rise and fall of her bare chest.
Pretty little thing. She looked tousled and peaceful, pale skin glowing softly against the dark sheets, and she smelled of Angelus, which really, in the end, meant that she smelled of them.
She was theirs. It satisfied something deep inside him.
When Spike slipped carefully into the bed and brushed her hair gently from her face, she stirred and nuzzled close to him like a puppy.
She was warm and bare and oh-so-sweet, and he enjoyed the boon of her sleepy affection while it lasted.
Because inevitably, her heartbeat sped and her muscles tensed and her eyes opened already glaring.
She pushed away from him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her voice was rough with sleep, and when she squinted into the dark, unable to make out his features, Spike clicked on the bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over them both.
Immediately, she pulled the top-sheet up to her neck and hunkered down, as if he’d never seen all her bits. Pity.
He leered anyway. “Miss me, did you?”
His grin was answered with a scowl. “About as much as you miss the electric chair.”
He tipped her a look, eyes drifting pointedly to her collar and back. “Exaggerating just a bit, aren’t we?”
“What do you want.”
Anger flattered her. The flush of her cheek, the flash of her eyes. The flex of her jaw. Spike reached out to stroke his knuckles over soft, heated skin, and she lashed out. Hit him, mad kitty, fuming when he took a firm but painless grip on her wrists. A short battle of wills ensued.
When he got around to answering her question, his tone was mild. “Missed you, is all.”
Dawn made a very un-lady-like snort, but Spike could be very dense when it suited him.
“What’s the matter, luv, you don’t believe me?”
She wriggled further under the sheet. “No.”
He studied her face until she looked away. “Well you’d be wrong. Thought about you, sweet, not just that lovely body. Though….” His eyes wandered away, to the figure poorly concealed from him. “Might have thought about that a time or two as well.”
When Dawn tried to yank her hands away in a fit of pique, he shut her down.
“That was meant to be a compliment,” he clarified.
“Fuck you.”
“Now, now, let’s not go making offers we’re not willing to follow through on. ‘S not nice to tease a bloke.”
The tenseness of her body gave out abruptly. “You hurt me.”
Her voice was small, and the sweep of her lids did nothing to conceal from him the tears gathering in her eyes.
Spike sighed through his nose. This was the downside of their approach with Dawn—treating her gently, granting her some small measure of respect. She retained illusions about who and what they were. The conviction that affection and pain were mutually exclusive, for one. While it benefited Dawn in the long run that Angelus reign himself in, that particular notion would not most certainly not.
So he’d best correct it now.
“I’m not going to apologize.”
Dawn’s eyes rounded and she tried to jerk away from him again. “Get out.”
Rage smelled so bloody good on her. She’d be a lovely demon, someday.
“No, I don’t think I will.” Her heart skipped even faster when he shifted his hold on her, the pad of his thumb running softly along her pulse. “Why do you think I’m not apologizing?”
“Because you’re a dick.”
He smiled at that, all teeth. “My, my, the lady’s got such naughty language. But as it happens, that’s not the case this time. I’m not apologizing because I’m not sorry.”
“And that’s what makes you a di—”
“What exactly am I meant to be sorry over, hmm? Wanting you? Lying to you? Bringing you here to be with me? Not a chance, pet.” He leaned closer, eyes locked on hers. “Maybe I’m meant to be sorry for exacting a little discipline that leaves no mark, in order to protect you in the long run. Well, I’m not sorry for any of those things. Doesn’t work that way, luv.”
She stiffened considerably at the word ‘protect,’ chin lifting defiantly at the last. “Oh yeah, and how does it work, asshole?”
His grip tightened on her wrist until she winced. It would mark, but he was through playing. “For one thing, you don’t call me names like that. Ever.
“For another: I want you. I have you. Simple as that.”
She stared at him, speechless. Probably too pissed for words. There was a protracted period of silence.
“You’d better get all those human notions of love and sex out of your head quick, pet. They won’t serve you well here, and it’s only going to make this difficult and painful. We’re demons. We don’t ask permission, and we don’t give consideration, and we like to hurt things. We get off on inflicting pain, and we don’t like it when the food gets uppity. You’re property now, get it? And no amount of affection for you is going to change any of that. All those ideas you have planted about how a man is meant to treat you mean fuck-all here. I’m not a man. Neither is Angelus.”
Spike felt a twinge of sympathy for the tears that welled up, loosening his grip on her wrists to something more like affection. “You think I don’t know that?”
“No,” he said quietly, “I don’t think you really do. How’s Angelus treating you, luv?”
The change of subject threw her visibly. “He’s fine. He’s not the one that likes to hurt me.”
He actually laughed at that, out loud. Had a good laugh at that. Christ, she really didn’t get it. “Oh, he loves hurting you, pet. Has you begging for it, I’d wager. What he does best, really. Does he spank you, pet?” There was no resistance this time, when he brushed the back of his hand over her heated cheek. “Or yank your hair…bruise this pretty skin with a hard grip. How long does he make you wait to come?” he murmured. Her eyes had long since dropped from his. “Has you doing exactly as he likes, hasn’t he? Still think he’s Prince Charming?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were, luv. But he’s the expert.”
She was silent for a moment, and he let her be. Stroked her skin, letting his fingers follow the line of her arm, now that she’d forgotten to be hostile.
“I’m not…. Just because I….”
“No, I don’t think less of you, kitten. Never crossed my mind.”
Her eyes met his in a flicker of surprise.
“Let me ask you something, now that we’ve established Angelus’ impure motivations. What would have happened, do you think, if you’d gone on as you were before I taught you that harsh little lesson? If you’d kept mouthing off and running off and generally fighting him at every turn?” He was assaulted with a distinct wave of fear as she thought it through. “Yeah, precisely. There wouldn’t have been snuggling in your future, that’s for sure. He breaks people for fun, luv. I can tell you stories if you like.”
“No.” She was quick on the draw, though he’d had no intention of doing so. It was better, for her to be afraid but not terrified. Better if Angelus was not reminded that he liked the smell of fear a bit too much, for these circumstances.
“Look, I’m not trying to scare you, pet. Or maybe I am. These are lessons I want you to learn quickly, so that you don’t do something you’re going to regret. You’re lucky Angelus has taken a liking to you. He can be very dangerous. But just because he fancies you and is amused by your metaphorical knackers doesn’t mean you’re safe from him. And just because I’m not the one making the scary faces…you’re not safe from me either.”
Spike searched her eyes, trying to gauge if he’d gotten through to her, but it was hard to tell beyond the fact that he’d overwhelmed her. If it was possible, she’d curled in smaller on herself. He curled his fingers loosely around one bruised wrist and brought her palm towards his face, kissing it and soothing over the force he’d used with a light touch.
“I’m not sorry that you’re mine, kitten. You can’t ask me to be that. And I’m not sorry that I did whatever was necessary to get you here. But I do regret that I scared you.”
She took a deep breath and watched him silently, confused and troubled and just a little hopeful, though she’d clearly rather not be.
“And I do regret making you feel less than precious to me.”
Surprise, chased away quickly by more jumbled emotions. But she let him kiss her—briefly and sweetly, though he wanted to take more, once he’d had a taste of her.
When he sat up and folded her hand towards her chest, she pulled it under the covers with the rest of her, all cocooned in fine linen. His hand strayed one last time to her hair, fingering a lock. Then he stood to leave.
“We didn’t have this conversation. Take a shower ‘fore he gets back. He’ll know, but there’s no use rubbing his face in it.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
“What did you do to her?”
Never mind that Angelus could smell Spike all over the bed…the lingering presence of smoke and bleach and family. The girl herself was acting very odd. Withdrawn, and strangely agreeable.
Spike blinked up at him innocently, which they both knew was such utter bullshit. “Who?”
Angelus snorted and didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“Just had a little chat, is all. If you think she’d just let me shag her, mad as she was, you’re daft.”
“That is not a girl who just had a little chat. She’d being all….” Angelus gestured with disgust. “…obedient. And quiet.”
There was a ghost of a smile on Spike’s face. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”
“What did you say to her, Spike? If you fucked up all my hard work—”
“Oh, leave off, Angelus. It’s fine. Your little game is intact. Maybe even a bit farther along. You should be thanking me, really.” He waited a beat, smug smile spreading over his face. “Not that I did anything at all, because I wouldn’t dream of disobeying a direct order.”
Angelus glared at him a while longer, made a sound of disgust, and retreated back into the bedroom.
mmm? what's that? you want threesome sex?
