FIC: Break
Title: Break
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Fandom: Angel
Ship: Faith/Angel, shades of Faith/Dru, Dru/Spike/Willow/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You don't break him by turning him into an animal. You break him by showing him he's a man. Pure smut, but with violence and torture!
Spoilers: The Wish
Warnings: Violence and sex, baby. Violence and sex.
Notes: Written for spikesredrose for the Wishverse ficathon the lovely voleuse orchestrated. Request was for Angel/Vamp!Faith or for Evil!Spike/Dru/Vamp!Willow/Vamp!Xander, NC-17 and light on angst. Um. It's light on angst for Faith! And... you know Puppy!Angel likes it.
Props to siviusx and nifra_idril for rocking my fucking world with the betas and the "Amy, are you on crack?"s.
Lunar Satellite-ites, see, this is what we're missing because we got outbid. Aren't you sad now?
Apologies for the lateness.
1,792 words
Fun thing about being a vampire: you get to be evil.
Not just a little evil, not playing on the edge of gray.
Not fucking the boy next door when he had big plans to be a priest.
Not kneeling between the girl's thighs and licking til her head falls back and she squeals your name.
Not watching silently while Kakistos mauls your Watcher because you're too fucking terrified to do anything.
No, once you're vamped, you're not worrying about the little details. You're really evil.
Evil-evil, the kind of evil that leaks blood and tears.
The kind that Faith loves.
Drusilla turned her because she was pretty, because she'd be a wonderful new doll. And Faith can be her doll, if that's what she wants. Dru's got a mommy kink to end all kinks, and she delights in mothering while fucking, this way of crying out little daughterly endearments while scissoring her thighs around Faith's neck and thrusting (god, how Dru enjoys thrusting) and coming, hard.
Faith loves her like she is the mother she never had. A pretty mother, one who's never too drunk to listen to her, one who gets her off if she plays nice enough.
Hey, it's a thing.
Being Dru's means you are also the property of all of the following, alphabetically: Darla (when she's around), Spike (ditto), Willow (when she bothers to pay attention), Xander (when he's not torturing innocents).
It also means you're to answer to the Master.
Faith's relationship with the Master is wicked strange. On the one hand, he fucking loves her, loves that one of his girls got a Slayer, fucking turned a Slayer. It's the achievement to end all achievements. He's almost in awe of her, like she's the best fucking Barbie in Toys R Us and he's a six-year-old girl.
On the other hand, he seems fucking terrified of her. Which makes no sense, because he's like her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, vampirilogically speaking. And he's the Master, so he shouldn't be afraid of fucking anything.
Sure, it's a little isolating, never getting asked to stay at the Master's hand, pick out the best food, slaughter with the best of them. But, well, at least he's ugly. Faith would rather belong to Dru anyway.
Being Dru's also means that, if you're very very good, in all the right ways, you get to play with the puppy.
Puppy's real name is Angel. Angelus. Scourge of Europe. Whatever the fuck he was, he's broken now. Just the puppy.
Just the ride.
Dru likes playing with everyone, one big orgy, and right now she's playing with them, the rest of them, Willow and Xander and Spike all over each other in one giant doggy pile of incestuous vampiric fucking. Faith is the baby, the youngest, and she never fucking gets to be on top with them. What the shit's the point?
So she's sitting in the cage again, squatting down on her heels, and waiting.
Just waiting.
"Hey," she says quietly.
He probably sees the glint in his eye, because he edges backwards.
She smiles wider.
"I always wanted a dog."
Her voice is casual, conversational. She sees him shudder, just a little. Good.
"Mom wouldn't let me get one. She was too busy. Drinking, passing out..." She laughs. "A dog and toys. It's nice, the way I have both now." She looks straight at him. Speaks almost gently. "Look at me."
He looks at her.
"How does it feel?" she asks him. "To not have hope."
He stares back, unspeaking.
"See, this is where they have it all wrong," she says, laughing just a tiny bit. "You don't break someone by turning him into an animal. You break him by reminding him he's supposed to be a man." She bounces to her feet, slayer agility and vampire agility and being at the top of your fucking game agility as a nice bonus. "When I'm here, you're going to answer to Angel. And you're going to speak to me. Is that clear?"
He nods, a little bit, and looks kind of terrified. Which is good.
Except he's not talking. So Faith goes over and grabs his head with both hands, the top part of his skull like it's a goddamned bowling ball with one hand and his jaw with the other. "I could rip these apart," she reminds him. "I don't think the Master would even be that angry, if I told him it was an accident. You'd heal eventually. If I didn't keep separating them."
He nods more fervently. He's sweating, which is kind of neat, because Faith hadn't realized that vampires who haven't fed in as long as they haven't fed him could have any excess liquid to let go of.
"I will pour holy water on your tongue and watch until the new one grows back. And I will enjoy it. But I'd rather just have you talk to me, baby." Her voice is almost pleading, almost sweet, and she expects him to see right through it but he doesn't. Which is, well, bizarre, but does make things a bit easier.
"Do you prefer Angelus or Angel?" she prompts.
His voice is rusty. Hasn't been used much of late, except for screaming. But he manages "Angel".
"Well, that's ironic." She frowns. "I think. Not really sure on the whole irony thing. It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is some blood, right?" At his blank stare, she laughs. "Guess you never heard that song, what with being locked up in a cage, hmm?"
He doesn't know the right answer. He's trembling. Shit, this is easy.
Faith moves up to him, so close she could kiss him if she wanted to, but why the fuck would she want to do that? "Take off your pants," she murmurs.
"I can't." And she sees for the first time that his hand is bandaged.
"What happened?" Her voice is almost gentle.
"Willow. Xander."
Faith's hand closes around his bandaged hand and he winces. "I asked you what happened," she says through clenched teeth. "Not who did it. What happened."
"They- they broke it. To remind me. That-" He swallows. "That I'm theirs."
"Well, that's not really fair," murmurs Faith. "I mean, you're mine too, aren't you, Angel?" Her grip tightens.
He gasps but manages to strangle his scream and nod.
"Told you to talk, Angel. I'm starting to think you want to be punished. That it?" She grins. "Need me to absolve you of all your sins, Angel?"
He's standing still, just where she wants him, but somehow he's still managing to cower before her. Which is all well and good, but damn, already.
"God, I thought you were the Scourge of Europe, not a six-year-old girl." She laughs. "It's okay, Angel, I'm not going to hurt you." A glance down at his hand. "Well, except for that. But that was mostly the big kids in the playground, you know? I'm the baby of the family. I'm not going to hurt you." She cozies up to him, tits pressed against his chest, and through the leather she can feel the scars left by the rest of the family. "Well, unless you want me to," she teases, and she pulls back to run a finger down his chest.
She watches his Adam's apple bob as he forces himself not to react.
"It's okay, Angel, I got it." She slowly, painstakingly, unzips his pants, folds them, puts them at the edge of the cage. He's not wearing anything underneath them.
He's rock-hard. Of course he is. How long has Willow gone without getting him off?
She ponders asking him, but she really doesn't care.
She stares at him for a moment, all cuts and bruises and scars and truth. Faith hasn't kept a scar for a while now. First with the Slayer healing, and now with the vampire thing. Guess he hasn't been feeding too much; he's not healing so well.
And what little blood he does have is rising to his cheeks under her careful examination of him. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.
Faith strips quickly, efficiently, until she's as naked as he is, Adam and Eve in the god-damned garden (and, well, aren't they?), and he's watching her, needing her.
He's been so trained by Willow. So trained. She barely moves her legs and he's between her thighs, licking and sucking like his life depends on it. Which, with Willow? Pretty much does.
He's good and he's talented and it would normally take longer to get her off but there's something about being the newest member of the family: you're never the fucker. Always getting fucked. And he's talented enough that she comes screaming.
Okay, so the fact that he's kind of hot doesn't hurt either.
"You know, best thing about vampires?" she murmurs. "You don't fucking need protection."
No warning, no time for him to prepare, and she's on him, he's in her, and she's riding like it's the Kentucky fucking Derby. Slayer muscles are totally slamming and he's going to break his other hand if he keeps twisting it into a fist it like that.
She can feel his orgasm. Must have been a long time; if she were a normal human girl... well, that's why Superman needs a Kryptonite condom, you know?
It's enough to set her off again.
He's lying back and gasping for unneeded breath. Faith climbs off him. Considers having him clean her up, but uses a towel instead. Small mercies. He's a man, not a dog.
Then she smiles. "Angel."
He freezes, looks up at her.
"Did I tell you you could do that?" She grabs his cock roughly. It's already hardening again. Of course it is. "Because I don't remember giving you permission."
A look of absolute terror across his face. She hasn't tortured him yet. She's been good.
Sometimes the best rewards are the ones you wait for.
She slips over to where she left her pants and pulls out a pocket knife.
"Come here, Angel," she murmurs. "We're going to play a little game. Learn a little lesson." She brushes some hair back out of her face, straddles his chest so that she's rubbing against him, just a little, just enough to make him moan, as she runs the blade gently over his chest. It's sharp enough that she barely needs to press; a hint of red bubbles to the top a few seconds after the blade passes.
She watches it. It's pretty.
"And you're going to talk to me the whole time, okay?"
Another cut.
"Tell me about your mother," Faith instructs as she makes another cut.
And it's the man, not the animal, who is forced to answer.
Author: Amy (alexia@innergeekdom.net)
Fandom: Angel
Ship: Faith/Angel, shades of Faith/Dru, Dru/Spike/Willow/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Summary: You don't break him by turning him into an animal. You break him by showing him he's a man. Pure smut, but with violence and torture!
Spoilers: The Wish
Warnings: Violence and sex, baby. Violence and sex.
Notes: Written for spikesredrose for the Wishverse ficathon the lovely voleuse orchestrated. Request was for Angel/Vamp!Faith or for Evil!Spike/Dru/Vamp!Willow/Vamp!Xander, NC-17 and light on angst. Um. It's light on angst for Faith! And... you know Puppy!Angel likes it.
Props to siviusx and nifra_idril for rocking my fucking world with the betas and the "Amy, are you on crack?"s.
Lunar Satellite-ites, see, this is what we're missing because we got outbid. Aren't you sad now?
Apologies for the lateness.
1,792 words
Fun thing about being a vampire: you get to be evil.
Not just a little evil, not playing on the edge of gray.
Not fucking the boy next door when he had big plans to be a priest.
Not kneeling between the girl's thighs and licking til her head falls back and she squeals your name.
Not watching silently while Kakistos mauls your Watcher because you're too fucking terrified to do anything.
No, once you're vamped, you're not worrying about the little details. You're really evil.
Evil-evil, the kind of evil that leaks blood and tears.
The kind that Faith loves.
Drusilla turned her because she was pretty, because she'd be a wonderful new doll. And Faith can be her doll, if that's what she wants. Dru's got a mommy kink to end all kinks, and she delights in mothering while fucking, this way of crying out little daughterly endearments while scissoring her thighs around Faith's neck and thrusting (god, how Dru enjoys thrusting) and coming, hard.
Faith loves her like she is the mother she never had. A pretty mother, one who's never too drunk to listen to her, one who gets her off if she plays nice enough.
Hey, it's a thing.
Being Dru's means you are also the property of all of the following, alphabetically: Darla (when she's around), Spike (ditto), Willow (when she bothers to pay attention), Xander (when he's not torturing innocents).
It also means you're to answer to the Master.
Faith's relationship with the Master is wicked strange. On the one hand, he fucking loves her, loves that one of his girls got a Slayer, fucking turned a Slayer. It's the achievement to end all achievements. He's almost in awe of her, like she's the best fucking Barbie in Toys R Us and he's a six-year-old girl.
On the other hand, he seems fucking terrified of her. Which makes no sense, because he's like her great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, vampirilogically speaking. And he's the Master, so he shouldn't be afraid of fucking anything.
Sure, it's a little isolating, never getting asked to stay at the Master's hand, pick out the best food, slaughter with the best of them. But, well, at least he's ugly. Faith would rather belong to Dru anyway.
Being Dru's also means that, if you're very very good, in all the right ways, you get to play with the puppy.
Puppy's real name is Angel. Angelus. Scourge of Europe. Whatever the fuck he was, he's broken now. Just the puppy.
Just the ride.
Dru likes playing with everyone, one big orgy, and right now she's playing with them, the rest of them, Willow and Xander and Spike all over each other in one giant doggy pile of incestuous vampiric fucking. Faith is the baby, the youngest, and she never fucking gets to be on top with them. What the shit's the point?
So she's sitting in the cage again, squatting down on her heels, and waiting.
Just waiting.
"Hey," she says quietly.
He probably sees the glint in his eye, because he edges backwards.
She smiles wider.
"I always wanted a dog."
Her voice is casual, conversational. She sees him shudder, just a little. Good.
"Mom wouldn't let me get one. She was too busy. Drinking, passing out..." She laughs. "A dog and toys. It's nice, the way I have both now." She looks straight at him. Speaks almost gently. "Look at me."
He looks at her.
"How does it feel?" she asks him. "To not have hope."
He stares back, unspeaking.
"See, this is where they have it all wrong," she says, laughing just a tiny bit. "You don't break someone by turning him into an animal. You break him by reminding him he's supposed to be a man." She bounces to her feet, slayer agility and vampire agility and being at the top of your fucking game agility as a nice bonus. "When I'm here, you're going to answer to Angel. And you're going to speak to me. Is that clear?"
He nods, a little bit, and looks kind of terrified. Which is good.
Except he's not talking. So Faith goes over and grabs his head with both hands, the top part of his skull like it's a goddamned bowling ball with one hand and his jaw with the other. "I could rip these apart," she reminds him. "I don't think the Master would even be that angry, if I told him it was an accident. You'd heal eventually. If I didn't keep separating them."
He nods more fervently. He's sweating, which is kind of neat, because Faith hadn't realized that vampires who haven't fed in as long as they haven't fed him could have any excess liquid to let go of.
"I will pour holy water on your tongue and watch until the new one grows back. And I will enjoy it. But I'd rather just have you talk to me, baby." Her voice is almost pleading, almost sweet, and she expects him to see right through it but he doesn't. Which is, well, bizarre, but does make things a bit easier.
"Do you prefer Angelus or Angel?" she prompts.
His voice is rusty. Hasn't been used much of late, except for screaming. But he manages "Angel".
"Well, that's ironic." She frowns. "I think. Not really sure on the whole irony thing. It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is some blood, right?" At his blank stare, she laughs. "Guess you never heard that song, what with being locked up in a cage, hmm?"
He doesn't know the right answer. He's trembling. Shit, this is easy.
Faith moves up to him, so close she could kiss him if she wanted to, but why the fuck would she want to do that? "Take off your pants," she murmurs.
"I can't." And she sees for the first time that his hand is bandaged.
"What happened?" Her voice is almost gentle.
"Willow. Xander."
Faith's hand closes around his bandaged hand and he winces. "I asked you what happened," she says through clenched teeth. "Not who did it. What happened."
"They- they broke it. To remind me. That-" He swallows. "That I'm theirs."
"Well, that's not really fair," murmurs Faith. "I mean, you're mine too, aren't you, Angel?" Her grip tightens.
He gasps but manages to strangle his scream and nod.
"Told you to talk, Angel. I'm starting to think you want to be punished. That it?" She grins. "Need me to absolve you of all your sins, Angel?"
He's standing still, just where she wants him, but somehow he's still managing to cower before her. Which is all well and good, but damn, already.
"God, I thought you were the Scourge of Europe, not a six-year-old girl." She laughs. "It's okay, Angel, I'm not going to hurt you." A glance down at his hand. "Well, except for that. But that was mostly the big kids in the playground, you know? I'm the baby of the family. I'm not going to hurt you." She cozies up to him, tits pressed against his chest, and through the leather she can feel the scars left by the rest of the family. "Well, unless you want me to," she teases, and she pulls back to run a finger down his chest.
She watches his Adam's apple bob as he forces himself not to react.
"It's okay, Angel, I got it." She slowly, painstakingly, unzips his pants, folds them, puts them at the edge of the cage. He's not wearing anything underneath them.
He's rock-hard. Of course he is. How long has Willow gone without getting him off?
She ponders asking him, but she really doesn't care.
She stares at him for a moment, all cuts and bruises and scars and truth. Faith hasn't kept a scar for a while now. First with the Slayer healing, and now with the vampire thing. Guess he hasn't been feeding too much; he's not healing so well.
And what little blood he does have is rising to his cheeks under her careful examination of him. You'd think he'd be used to it by now.
Faith strips quickly, efficiently, until she's as naked as he is, Adam and Eve in the god-damned garden (and, well, aren't they?), and he's watching her, needing her.
He's been so trained by Willow. So trained. She barely moves her legs and he's between her thighs, licking and sucking like his life depends on it. Which, with Willow? Pretty much does.
He's good and he's talented and it would normally take longer to get her off but there's something about being the newest member of the family: you're never the fucker. Always getting fucked. And he's talented enough that she comes screaming.
Okay, so the fact that he's kind of hot doesn't hurt either.
"You know, best thing about vampires?" she murmurs. "You don't fucking need protection."
No warning, no time for him to prepare, and she's on him, he's in her, and she's riding like it's the Kentucky fucking Derby. Slayer muscles are totally slamming and he's going to break his other hand if he keeps twisting it into a fist it like that.
She can feel his orgasm. Must have been a long time; if she were a normal human girl... well, that's why Superman needs a Kryptonite condom, you know?
It's enough to set her off again.
He's lying back and gasping for unneeded breath. Faith climbs off him. Considers having him clean her up, but uses a towel instead. Small mercies. He's a man, not a dog.
Then she smiles. "Angel."
He freezes, looks up at her.
"Did I tell you you could do that?" She grabs his cock roughly. It's already hardening again. Of course it is. "Because I don't remember giving you permission."
A look of absolute terror across his face. She hasn't tortured him yet. She's been good.
Sometimes the best rewards are the ones you wait for.
She slips over to where she left her pants and pulls out a pocket knife.
"Come here, Angel," she murmurs. "We're going to play a little game. Learn a little lesson." She brushes some hair back out of her face, straddles his chest so that she's rubbing against him, just a little, just enough to make him moan, as she runs the blade gently over his chest. It's sharp enough that she barely needs to press; a hint of red bubbles to the top a few seconds after the blade passes.
She watches it. It's pretty.
"And you're going to talk to me the whole time, okay?"
Another cut.
"Tell me about your mother," Faith instructs as she makes another cut.
And it's the man, not the animal, who is forced to answer.