Prompt: A Highland Fling with a Monstrous Thing (angst)
Prompt: A Highland Fling with a Monstrous Thing
Setting: S3 "Lovers Walk AU", following Part Two
Rating: I'm upping the rating to R for the rest of these prompts. It turned out darker than I expected.
Words: 550
A/N1: Part 3 of 8 (so far)
A/N2: The individual parts of this story are not always Spuffy-centric, but the overall story is. So I hope that's okay...
A/N3: This is going darker than I expected. Some hints at dubcon/noncon. Read with caution.
When Faith wakes up, it’s to find she’s been hogtied, and not in the fun way. Also not in the no-problem-I’m-a-Slayer way. Whoever did this to her knew what they were doing.
“Fuck,” she says, giving up the attempt to burst free from her bonds. Brute strength isn’t going to be enough. Panic threatens, but she tamps it down and wiggles until she has a better view of the dimly lit room she’s in.
She wrinkles her nose, wishing she hadn’t tried for the better view. It looks to be a burnt-out husk of a building, littered with trash and animal droppings and empty bottles. Along with - great. A corpse. Faith cranes her head a little farther, ignoring the feel of the filthy, ripped sheets beneath her cheek.
Make that two corpses.
“About time,” the more animated of the two corpses says, using the bottle in his hand to emphasize his point.
The smell of spilled alcohol hits her. Wonderful. As if she didn’t have enough with Boozy the Librarian, now she’s got Sloshy the Vampire to deal with. What vengeful god had thought she deserved a life filled with alcoholic wastes of space? And this Spike asshole, what’s his deal? She vaguely remembers some stories about the other Slayer’s run-ins with him last year, but the details are skimpy. The Watcher barely even pretends to do his job, and while Xander and Willow do their best to fill her in, they’re too busy moping about their lost friend and their dead schoolmates to be helpful.
Wherever this Buffy chick is, Faith hopes it’s hell. The bitch deserves it for the way she’s abandoned everybody who cared about her and left the wreckage to Faith.
“Let me go,” she says in her most dangerous voice.
Spike rubs his chin, making a show of thinking about it. He ambles over and plops down on the bed beside her, sending up a cloud of dust, and throws his arm around her shoulder. “No,” he says cheerfully. “The only chance you have is if they trade Buffy for you, and even then, it’s only a chance. You know, I really don’t think the odds are in your favor, pet.” He leans down to whisper in her ear. “But don’t fret, I’ll make it special for the both of us.”
Faith shudders, and then freezes when he leans even closer. Oh, god. Is he... sniffing her?
He is. He’s sniffing her.
“That smell... Your neck...” Spike says, his voice turning ragged. “I haven’t had a woman in weeks.” He brushes her hair away from her neck. “Maybe you’d do. Dozy bint probably wouldn’t even notice the difference which Slayer I brought her.”
Faith wants to throw up. She wants to spit in the vampire’s face. She wants to not ever again have to be the girl who had to pretend to want it because she was too weak to say no. Instead, she does her best to arch her body in what she hopes is an alluring way. She figures he’ll have to untie her legs to fuck her. It’s her best shot.
Whatever it takes to get out of this, whatever it takes to stay alive, she’ll do it. It’s what she’s always done.
(But, please God. Let them find Buffy first.)
Setting: S3 "Lovers Walk AU", following Part Two
Rating: I'm upping the rating to R for the rest of these prompts. It turned out darker than I expected.
Words: 550
A/N1: Part 3 of 8 (so far)
A/N2: The individual parts of this story are not always Spuffy-centric, but the overall story is. So I hope that's okay...
A/N3: This is going darker than I expected. Some hints at dubcon/noncon. Read with caution.
When Faith wakes up, it’s to find she’s been hogtied, and not in the fun way. Also not in the no-problem-I’m-a-Slayer way. Whoever did this to her knew what they were doing.
“Fuck,” she says, giving up the attempt to burst free from her bonds. Brute strength isn’t going to be enough. Panic threatens, but she tamps it down and wiggles until she has a better view of the dimly lit room she’s in.
She wrinkles her nose, wishing she hadn’t tried for the better view. It looks to be a burnt-out husk of a building, littered with trash and animal droppings and empty bottles. Along with - great. A corpse. Faith cranes her head a little farther, ignoring the feel of the filthy, ripped sheets beneath her cheek.
Make that two corpses.
“About time,” the more animated of the two corpses says, using the bottle in his hand to emphasize his point.
The smell of spilled alcohol hits her. Wonderful. As if she didn’t have enough with Boozy the Librarian, now she’s got Sloshy the Vampire to deal with. What vengeful god had thought she deserved a life filled with alcoholic wastes of space? And this Spike asshole, what’s his deal? She vaguely remembers some stories about the other Slayer’s run-ins with him last year, but the details are skimpy. The Watcher barely even pretends to do his job, and while Xander and Willow do their best to fill her in, they’re too busy moping about their lost friend and their dead schoolmates to be helpful.
Wherever this Buffy chick is, Faith hopes it’s hell. The bitch deserves it for the way she’s abandoned everybody who cared about her and left the wreckage to Faith.
“Let me go,” she says in her most dangerous voice.
Spike rubs his chin, making a show of thinking about it. He ambles over and plops down on the bed beside her, sending up a cloud of dust, and throws his arm around her shoulder. “No,” he says cheerfully. “The only chance you have is if they trade Buffy for you, and even then, it’s only a chance. You know, I really don’t think the odds are in your favor, pet.” He leans down to whisper in her ear. “But don’t fret, I’ll make it special for the both of us.”
Faith shudders, and then freezes when he leans even closer. Oh, god. Is he... sniffing her?
He is. He’s sniffing her.
“That smell... Your neck...” Spike says, his voice turning ragged. “I haven’t had a woman in weeks.” He brushes her hair away from her neck. “Maybe you’d do. Dozy bint probably wouldn’t even notice the difference which Slayer I brought her.”
Faith wants to throw up. She wants to spit in the vampire’s face. She wants to not ever again have to be the girl who had to pretend to want it because she was too weak to say no. Instead, she does her best to arch her body in what she hopes is an alluring way. She figures he’ll have to untie her legs to fuck her. It’s her best shot.
Whatever it takes to get out of this, whatever it takes to stay alive, she’ll do it. It’s what she’s always done.
(But, please God. Let them find Buffy first.)