Broken, part 3
Oct. 30th, 2005 06:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpireokay, finally part three. it's kind of short, but i wanted to go ahead and post before people completely lose interest. i've already gotten a lot more written (never fear!) but it didn't seem to belong to this part, so... it's going with the next part. :)
Title: Broken (part three)
Author: girlpire
Rating: I'm calling it NC17, but so far it's pretty tame.
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred released Angelus from his cage, and now she's his hostage.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting.
Author's Notes: This is the third part of my series Broken. The first part is here. Broken is the sequel to Breakable, picking up soon after that left off. I recommend reading Breakable first, but don't worry, it's short. :) This is set during season four, AU after the episode "Calvary." No beta, so all mistakes are mine.
banner by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
frimfram because she is awesome!
*
The bed was shaking. Her first coherent thought as she opened her eyes was that it was a tiny earthquake. She wouldn't have been surprised; they happened all the time in Southern California. But as her body began to wake up a little more, she realized she could feel Angelus moving behind her, and that he was the one causing the bed to tremble slightly beneath them.
She started to turn over to look at what he was doing, but he immediately caught her shoulder and pushed her back, holding her there as he continued to... oh. He was... oh. Oh. Was he really...?
She stared straight ahead of her, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Her thoughts were still somewhat muzzy from several hours of surprisingly blissful unconsciousness. She hadn't been expecting to be able to sleep at all, having spent most of the previous couple of days doing just that, but for some reason, lying naked in the arms of a demon in an unfamiliar hotel room, she had found a kind of peace that welcomed sleep. It was the peace that comes from letting go of everything you have ever cared about and willingly giving the responsibility of your life to someone else. Nothing left to worry about, nothing you have to think about at all if you don't feel like it. It was almost like being a child again, only having less to lose - because this time you don't have the whole rest of your life to look forward to. You have maybe a couple days, a week or two tops, before he kills you.
The bed was bouncing in an even rhythm, steady and barely perceptible, like a heartbeat. She probably wouldn't have even noticed except that the mattress was kind of old and the springs were squeaky and wow, he really was masturbating right next to her. She blinked again. If he hadn't been holding her firmly by the shoulder so that she couldn't move, she'd probably be watching.
She didn't really need the visual to be mesmerized though. She could hear his movements, the sound of a slick fist sliding over flesh. She listened intently for his breathing, conspicuous due to its absence. She pictured his face, eyes closed, lips parted... or maybe he was biting his lower lip. Perhaps his head was turned toward her as he held her down with one hand, lying on his back with his other hand on his hard cock, eyes trained on the long braid he'd carefully twisted for her the night before. Or maybe he was looking at her neck.
She swallowed, her own breath becoming shallower as she imagined him simply rolling her onto her stomach and pushing into her from behind. She wouldn't fight it. Her body was practically calling out for him to fuck her, bite her, make her his. No talking, no thinking, just passion. She wanted it so bad, and she knew he knew she wanted it, yet there he was, near enough to take her but choosing instead to use his own hand to bring himself off. She wanted to scream. She pressed her legs together tightly.
She'd always been a little bit fascinated that masturbation actually... well, worked. It didn't seem like it should be possible for a person to have a self-induced orgasm - not that she was complaining about that, of course, but if you can stimulate your own body to orgasm, why can't you tickle yourself? And for that matter, why can't you kill yourself without using some sort of external tool? It is physically impossible to hold your breath until you die. There's a self-preservation instinct buried deep down inside that forces you to take a breath at the last second, even if you don't want it. But still, if you did somehow manage to reach that last second without breathing, your body would slip into a state of unconsciousness before you actually died, and you wouldn't have control of your lungs any longer. Your body would just start breathing again without your permission, and -
His grip on her shoulder was getting tighter. Did that mean he was about to... and he wouldn't even let her see. She tried to think about something else. What was the origin of the phrase rude awakening?
The bed was shaking a little faster, but he still wasn't making any noises. She knew her heart was pounding, that he could probably hear it above the squeaky springs, and which face was he wearing right now? Was he thinking about biting her? She'd probably have marks where he was squeezing her shoulder so hard.
She stealthily slipped a hand between her thighs. If he cared to look, he'd be able to see that she was also touching herself, quietly curled on the bed with her back to him. The covers were bunched below her ass; he'd probably pushed them down for better access to his cock. Just lying next to him, knowing what he was doing even though she couldn't see had made her wet down there, and she closed her eyes as she slid one slick finger slowly back and forth over her clit, sending little tingleshocks through her body.
After a few moments, she realized that the bed had stopped shaking. She ceased her tiny movements, leaving her hand clamped between her thighs as she listened for him, wondering why he had stopped. Had he come already? Surely she would have known... He was still gripping her shoulder, but not as tightly. She swallowed. She had just decided to try turning over again when he moved.
He rolled onto his side behind her, his cool body not quite close enough to touch her skin, although she could feel him there anyway. His hand felt heavy on her arm, and his face was close to her ear when he spoke.
"What are you doing, Fred?" he asked.
His voice sounded pleasant enough, but she could still hear that kind of amused sarcasm that was unique to Angelus. She opened her mouth to reply but could think of nothing to say to him. She had a feeling that "masturbating" wasn't the answer he was looking for here. Or maybe that's just exactly what he wanted to hear her say?
He squeezed her arm tight, and she gasped. It hurt. "I asked you a question. I think you'll find I don't like to repeat myself," he said. He still sounded pleasant. "Tell me what you're doing."
"I don't know," she breathed, and for a moment the truth of it struck her; she really didn't know what she was doing.
He let go of her arm finally, and she felt the pins-and-needles of circulation returning to her fingers. She would definitely have marks. Then he was reaching around her body and down, and his hand was sliding between her legs to cup over her own hand still there, and he was pressing her fingers hard against herself, and it turned out that even now she could still be surprised enough to make involuntary "eep" sounds.
"Still don't know?" he asked as he started to grind her hand back and forth.
Her mouth was wide open in surprise, and when she realized that, she was secretly glad that he couldn't see her face. She tried to answer this time.
"I'm - I was - ah - touching myself," she managed. Saying it made her cheeks flush, and she wondered if he could smell the blood going to her face.
"Naughty girl," he scolded, still moving her hand. "Tell me what you were thinking about." He shifted behind her, and she suddenly felt his erection being pressed against her ass, the damp tip sliding across her skin, leaving a wet little trail.
Her breathing had become slightly ragged, but she still managed to say, "You, I was thinking about - about you."
She could hear him smiling. "Thinking about me and touching yourself," he mused. "I really get you hot, don't I?"
She nodded, turning her face to the pillow.
"Say it," he told her.
She swallowed. "You... you make me hot, Angelus," she said.
"Call me Angel," he immediately whispered in her ear.
"Angel," she repeated. She started to move her hips a little. Technically, she was thrusting against her own fingers, but the illusion of his hand on her down there was very convincing. When she moved, she could feel his cock sliding against her behind.
"What were you thinking about me?" he asked her. His cool breath on her ear made her shiver.
"Your face," she confessed softly. "I was thinking about your face."
"Which one?"
"Both... And - and whether you were looking at me when you were - when you were - while you jerked off." If she could have blushed more, she would have.
"Do you like thinking about me touching my cock?" he whispered.
"Yes," she breathed. "I was... listening to you..."
"What else?" He was moving her hand faster now.
"I wanted you to - to fuck me, Angel," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I want to feel you - to feel your... teeth... ah!" She bit her lip as she felt the tiny beginnings of an orgasm start to form, tension building inside. She heard his features shift.
"Where do you want to feel my teeth?" he asked her, his voice low and gravelly.
"Everywhere," she gasped. She was close.
He pressed his face to her neck, breathing deeply. "Do you want to know what I was thinking about, Fred?" he asked.
She could feel his lips move. She barely nodded, not bothering to open her eyes, heard herself murmur, "Yes." Any second now...
He moved his mouth up right next to her ear. "Not you," he whispered.
Her eyes flew open as she felt him pull his hand away from hers. With no further movement, her body began to calm down, the beginnings of her orgasm slowly fading away. She lay completely still on the bed as he stood up, stretched, and went into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the shower come on.
She blinked. She knew she must be awake because her arm hurt where he'd held her so tight. She moved her hand quietly away from her body, then turned, buried her face in the pillow.
You can't hold your breath until you die. Have to use something external. Doesn't seem right.
*
She was still lying face down when he came out of the bathroom, but she had dragged the covers back up to her shoulders. It's not like she had any dignity left, but the room was a little too cool to be lying around naked.
She could hear him walking around the room, the sound of clothes being pulled on, a zipper zipped. She wondered again where he'd put her clothes. And where was he keeping his? The room had looked to her yesterday as if no one were actually staying there, aside from the shoes tucked neatly beneath the desk. But she hadn't bothered to open the closet, so maybe that's where their stuff was. She made a mental note to look in there when he left the room for the night. She turned her face just enough so that she could see the window. Dusk. He'd probably be leaving soon. She turned her face back into the pillow.
Water. Teeth-brushing sounds. Did he have to brush his teeth in both faces? And then footsteps to the side of the bed.
"Fred. Look at me."
She slowly turned her face towards him, one eye looking up from the pillow. She hated him a little bit. He was dressed all in black, hair perfectly done - how did he do it? just by touch? - and looking exactly like... Angel. He smiled gently down at her, just like...
"I'm going out for a few minutes. I'll be right back. If you try to go anywhere, I won't kill you, but I will tear off your ears. Do you understand?"
She nodded at him.
He reached down and smoothed back a wisp of hair that had come out of her braid. Then he ran his fingers lightly over her cheek. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, he pressed down hard and pain shot out across her face. She winced in surprise, having forgotten about the bruise that must still be there from when he'd knocked her down yesterday. Her mouth fell open.
"When I ask you a question, I want you to answer me," he said. "Do you understand?"
"I understand," she immediately replied.
He looked pleased, then thoughtful for a moment before pressing the bruise again. She fought not to jerk away from his hand. "Have to get something to cover that up," he said. "We don't want people looking at you funny when we go out."
"We're... going out?"
He walked away and picked up his jacket, pulling it on as he spoke. "You know. Out. As in outside. Beyond the door of this hotel room." He gestured toward the door. She looked at it. "I want you to be ready when I get back," he said.
"Where are we going?" She sat up in the bed, watching him as he walked toward the door.
"Shopping," he said without looking at her.
A gust of even cooler air came in through the doorway when he opened it, and she shivered beneath the covers. Only after he'd closed the door behind him did she wonder again where her clothes were. She really hoped he didn't expect her to go somewhere naked.
She got up after a moment, went to the bathroom. When she came back out, she stood in front of the mirror in the dressing area for a long time, studying her reflection. Had it really only been three days since she released Angelus? She remembered standing in front of the mirror in her room at the Hyperion, assuming it would be the last time she ever saw herself. And now here she was, naked, hair pulled back and a bruise on her face, fingerprints on her shoulder, but she was still the same Fred, nothing much different, not any more satisfied with life than she had been. The only thing that had changed was that now she was one of the bad guys. She thought about that. What would Charles, Wesley, Connor, Cordy... what would they do with her if they found her? She hadn't actually killed anyone, but she'd knowingly set free a monster who would. And apparently, it was for nothing. He didn't even want her.
Yeah, he'd said it, but she hadn't really believed him until today. When he was in the cage, he'd said things to her... things that made her think he wanted to touch her, made her believe he could do things to her that no one else could... Of course, he could have been trying to get her to let him out. But then why would he be keeping her naked if he didn't want her? Unless he was just trying to humiliate her. God, that was it, wasn't it? Why was she so stupid?
She swallowed back a lump in her throat. Okay, Fred. No more feeling sorry for yourself. If that's how he's going to play it, you can play this too.
She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and began undoing the braid, running her fingers through her long hair until it was all down and wavy. Not a bad effect. Now... how do you get an evil thing to want you? He kept saying she was too easy. She could stop being easy. She could fight him... be a little spitfire like Cordy. He would like that, right? And if he decided he didn't like her that way, he could kill her and that would be that. ...Except that she really wanted him. God, did she have to stop wanting him for him to want her? This was so stupid! Where were her clothes?
She slid the door to the closet open and looked inside. Her skirt and tank top were there, hanging up neatly alongside the clothes Angelus had brought for himself. All in all, there wasn't much there, which was presumably why they were going shopping when he came back. Also, there was a dead body lying across the floor.
Fred took her clothes from the hangers and closed the closet door again. She stepped into the skirt, pulled it up, zipped it, then put on her tank top. She walked over to the desk, got her sandals from underneath it and put them on. She sat down on one of the beds.
After a moment, she stood again and walked over to the closet. She opened the door. Dead body. Right. Okay. She closed the door again and went to sit on one of the beds.
Vampire fangs. External.
*
continued here.
Title: Broken (part three)
Author: girlpire
Rating: I'm calling it NC17, but so far it's pretty tame.
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred released Angelus from his cage, and now she's his hostage.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting.
Author's Notes: This is the third part of my series Broken. The first part is here. Broken is the sequel to Breakable, picking up soon after that left off. I recommend reading Breakable first, but don't worry, it's short. :) This is set during season four, AU after the episode "Calvary." No beta, so all mistakes are mine.
banner by
frimfram because she is awesome!*
The bed was shaking. Her first coherent thought as she opened her eyes was that it was a tiny earthquake. She wouldn't have been surprised; they happened all the time in Southern California. But as her body began to wake up a little more, she realized she could feel Angelus moving behind her, and that he was the one causing the bed to tremble slightly beneath them.
She started to turn over to look at what he was doing, but he immediately caught her shoulder and pushed her back, holding her there as he continued to... oh. He was... oh. Oh. Was he really...?
She stared straight ahead of her, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Her thoughts were still somewhat muzzy from several hours of surprisingly blissful unconsciousness. She hadn't been expecting to be able to sleep at all, having spent most of the previous couple of days doing just that, but for some reason, lying naked in the arms of a demon in an unfamiliar hotel room, she had found a kind of peace that welcomed sleep. It was the peace that comes from letting go of everything you have ever cared about and willingly giving the responsibility of your life to someone else. Nothing left to worry about, nothing you have to think about at all if you don't feel like it. It was almost like being a child again, only having less to lose - because this time you don't have the whole rest of your life to look forward to. You have maybe a couple days, a week or two tops, before he kills you.
The bed was bouncing in an even rhythm, steady and barely perceptible, like a heartbeat. She probably wouldn't have even noticed except that the mattress was kind of old and the springs were squeaky and wow, he really was masturbating right next to her. She blinked again. If he hadn't been holding her firmly by the shoulder so that she couldn't move, she'd probably be watching.
She didn't really need the visual to be mesmerized though. She could hear his movements, the sound of a slick fist sliding over flesh. She listened intently for his breathing, conspicuous due to its absence. She pictured his face, eyes closed, lips parted... or maybe he was biting his lower lip. Perhaps his head was turned toward her as he held her down with one hand, lying on his back with his other hand on his hard cock, eyes trained on the long braid he'd carefully twisted for her the night before. Or maybe he was looking at her neck.
She swallowed, her own breath becoming shallower as she imagined him simply rolling her onto her stomach and pushing into her from behind. She wouldn't fight it. Her body was practically calling out for him to fuck her, bite her, make her his. No talking, no thinking, just passion. She wanted it so bad, and she knew he knew she wanted it, yet there he was, near enough to take her but choosing instead to use his own hand to bring himself off. She wanted to scream. She pressed her legs together tightly.
She'd always been a little bit fascinated that masturbation actually... well, worked. It didn't seem like it should be possible for a person to have a self-induced orgasm - not that she was complaining about that, of course, but if you can stimulate your own body to orgasm, why can't you tickle yourself? And for that matter, why can't you kill yourself without using some sort of external tool? It is physically impossible to hold your breath until you die. There's a self-preservation instinct buried deep down inside that forces you to take a breath at the last second, even if you don't want it. But still, if you did somehow manage to reach that last second without breathing, your body would slip into a state of unconsciousness before you actually died, and you wouldn't have control of your lungs any longer. Your body would just start breathing again without your permission, and -
His grip on her shoulder was getting tighter. Did that mean he was about to... and he wouldn't even let her see. She tried to think about something else. What was the origin of the phrase rude awakening?
The bed was shaking a little faster, but he still wasn't making any noises. She knew her heart was pounding, that he could probably hear it above the squeaky springs, and which face was he wearing right now? Was he thinking about biting her? She'd probably have marks where he was squeezing her shoulder so hard.
She stealthily slipped a hand between her thighs. If he cared to look, he'd be able to see that she was also touching herself, quietly curled on the bed with her back to him. The covers were bunched below her ass; he'd probably pushed them down for better access to his cock. Just lying next to him, knowing what he was doing even though she couldn't see had made her wet down there, and she closed her eyes as she slid one slick finger slowly back and forth over her clit, sending little tingleshocks through her body.
After a few moments, she realized that the bed had stopped shaking. She ceased her tiny movements, leaving her hand clamped between her thighs as she listened for him, wondering why he had stopped. Had he come already? Surely she would have known... He was still gripping her shoulder, but not as tightly. She swallowed. She had just decided to try turning over again when he moved.
He rolled onto his side behind her, his cool body not quite close enough to touch her skin, although she could feel him there anyway. His hand felt heavy on her arm, and his face was close to her ear when he spoke.
"What are you doing, Fred?" he asked.
His voice sounded pleasant enough, but she could still hear that kind of amused sarcasm that was unique to Angelus. She opened her mouth to reply but could think of nothing to say to him. She had a feeling that "masturbating" wasn't the answer he was looking for here. Or maybe that's just exactly what he wanted to hear her say?
He squeezed her arm tight, and she gasped. It hurt. "I asked you a question. I think you'll find I don't like to repeat myself," he said. He still sounded pleasant. "Tell me what you're doing."
"I don't know," she breathed, and for a moment the truth of it struck her; she really didn't know what she was doing.
He let go of her arm finally, and she felt the pins-and-needles of circulation returning to her fingers. She would definitely have marks. Then he was reaching around her body and down, and his hand was sliding between her legs to cup over her own hand still there, and he was pressing her fingers hard against herself, and it turned out that even now she could still be surprised enough to make involuntary "eep" sounds.
"Still don't know?" he asked as he started to grind her hand back and forth.
Her mouth was wide open in surprise, and when she realized that, she was secretly glad that he couldn't see her face. She tried to answer this time.
"I'm - I was - ah - touching myself," she managed. Saying it made her cheeks flush, and she wondered if he could smell the blood going to her face.
"Naughty girl," he scolded, still moving her hand. "Tell me what you were thinking about." He shifted behind her, and she suddenly felt his erection being pressed against her ass, the damp tip sliding across her skin, leaving a wet little trail.
Her breathing had become slightly ragged, but she still managed to say, "You, I was thinking about - about you."
She could hear him smiling. "Thinking about me and touching yourself," he mused. "I really get you hot, don't I?"
She nodded, turning her face to the pillow.
"Say it," he told her.
She swallowed. "You... you make me hot, Angelus," she said.
"Call me Angel," he immediately whispered in her ear.
"Angel," she repeated. She started to move her hips a little. Technically, she was thrusting against her own fingers, but the illusion of his hand on her down there was very convincing. When she moved, she could feel his cock sliding against her behind.
"What were you thinking about me?" he asked her. His cool breath on her ear made her shiver.
"Your face," she confessed softly. "I was thinking about your face."
"Which one?"
"Both... And - and whether you were looking at me when you were - when you were - while you jerked off." If she could have blushed more, she would have.
"Do you like thinking about me touching my cock?" he whispered.
"Yes," she breathed. "I was... listening to you..."
"What else?" He was moving her hand faster now.
"I wanted you to - to fuck me, Angel," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. "I want to feel you - to feel your... teeth... ah!" She bit her lip as she felt the tiny beginnings of an orgasm start to form, tension building inside. She heard his features shift.
"Where do you want to feel my teeth?" he asked her, his voice low and gravelly.
"Everywhere," she gasped. She was close.
He pressed his face to her neck, breathing deeply. "Do you want to know what I was thinking about, Fred?" he asked.
She could feel his lips move. She barely nodded, not bothering to open her eyes, heard herself murmur, "Yes." Any second now...
He moved his mouth up right next to her ear. "Not you," he whispered.
Her eyes flew open as she felt him pull his hand away from hers. With no further movement, her body began to calm down, the beginnings of her orgasm slowly fading away. She lay completely still on the bed as he stood up, stretched, and went into the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the shower come on.
She blinked. She knew she must be awake because her arm hurt where he'd held her so tight. She moved her hand quietly away from her body, then turned, buried her face in the pillow.
You can't hold your breath until you die. Have to use something external. Doesn't seem right.
*
She was still lying face down when he came out of the bathroom, but she had dragged the covers back up to her shoulders. It's not like she had any dignity left, but the room was a little too cool to be lying around naked.
She could hear him walking around the room, the sound of clothes being pulled on, a zipper zipped. She wondered again where he'd put her clothes. And where was he keeping his? The room had looked to her yesterday as if no one were actually staying there, aside from the shoes tucked neatly beneath the desk. But she hadn't bothered to open the closet, so maybe that's where their stuff was. She made a mental note to look in there when he left the room for the night. She turned her face just enough so that she could see the window. Dusk. He'd probably be leaving soon. She turned her face back into the pillow.
Water. Teeth-brushing sounds. Did he have to brush his teeth in both faces? And then footsteps to the side of the bed.
"Fred. Look at me."
She slowly turned her face towards him, one eye looking up from the pillow. She hated him a little bit. He was dressed all in black, hair perfectly done - how did he do it? just by touch? - and looking exactly like... Angel. He smiled gently down at her, just like...
"I'm going out for a few minutes. I'll be right back. If you try to go anywhere, I won't kill you, but I will tear off your ears. Do you understand?"
She nodded at him.
He reached down and smoothed back a wisp of hair that had come out of her braid. Then he ran his fingers lightly over her cheek. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, he pressed down hard and pain shot out across her face. She winced in surprise, having forgotten about the bruise that must still be there from when he'd knocked her down yesterday. Her mouth fell open.
"When I ask you a question, I want you to answer me," he said. "Do you understand?"
"I understand," she immediately replied.
He looked pleased, then thoughtful for a moment before pressing the bruise again. She fought not to jerk away from his hand. "Have to get something to cover that up," he said. "We don't want people looking at you funny when we go out."
"We're... going out?"
He walked away and picked up his jacket, pulling it on as he spoke. "You know. Out. As in outside. Beyond the door of this hotel room." He gestured toward the door. She looked at it. "I want you to be ready when I get back," he said.
"Where are we going?" She sat up in the bed, watching him as he walked toward the door.
"Shopping," he said without looking at her.
A gust of even cooler air came in through the doorway when he opened it, and she shivered beneath the covers. Only after he'd closed the door behind him did she wonder again where her clothes were. She really hoped he didn't expect her to go somewhere naked.
She got up after a moment, went to the bathroom. When she came back out, she stood in front of the mirror in the dressing area for a long time, studying her reflection. Had it really only been three days since she released Angelus? She remembered standing in front of the mirror in her room at the Hyperion, assuming it would be the last time she ever saw herself. And now here she was, naked, hair pulled back and a bruise on her face, fingerprints on her shoulder, but she was still the same Fred, nothing much different, not any more satisfied with life than she had been. The only thing that had changed was that now she was one of the bad guys. She thought about that. What would Charles, Wesley, Connor, Cordy... what would they do with her if they found her? She hadn't actually killed anyone, but she'd knowingly set free a monster who would. And apparently, it was for nothing. He didn't even want her.
Yeah, he'd said it, but she hadn't really believed him until today. When he was in the cage, he'd said things to her... things that made her think he wanted to touch her, made her believe he could do things to her that no one else could... Of course, he could have been trying to get her to let him out. But then why would he be keeping her naked if he didn't want her? Unless he was just trying to humiliate her. God, that was it, wasn't it? Why was she so stupid?
She swallowed back a lump in her throat. Okay, Fred. No more feeling sorry for yourself. If that's how he's going to play it, you can play this too.
She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and began undoing the braid, running her fingers through her long hair until it was all down and wavy. Not a bad effect. Now... how do you get an evil thing to want you? He kept saying she was too easy. She could stop being easy. She could fight him... be a little spitfire like Cordy. He would like that, right? And if he decided he didn't like her that way, he could kill her and that would be that. ...Except that she really wanted him. God, did she have to stop wanting him for him to want her? This was so stupid! Where were her clothes?
She slid the door to the closet open and looked inside. Her skirt and tank top were there, hanging up neatly alongside the clothes Angelus had brought for himself. All in all, there wasn't much there, which was presumably why they were going shopping when he came back. Also, there was a dead body lying across the floor.
Fred took her clothes from the hangers and closed the closet door again. She stepped into the skirt, pulled it up, zipped it, then put on her tank top. She walked over to the desk, got her sandals from underneath it and put them on. She sat down on one of the beds.
After a moment, she stood again and walked over to the closet. She opened the door. Dead body. Right. Okay. She closed the door again and went to sit on one of the beds.
Vampire fangs. External.
*
continued here.
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Date: 2005-10-31 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 07:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 07:05 pm (UTC)thanks for the comment! :D
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Date: 2005-10-31 08:11 am (UTC)I'm so hooked on this story it's going to kill me.
*purrs at you*
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Date: 2005-10-31 07:15 pm (UTC)i'm so glad you like my (het!) story! your comments make me excited about writing it. *pets you*
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Date: 2005-10-31 05:08 pm (UTC)That's because it's so beautifully written and pscyhologically fascinating of course. I'm on tenterhooks every time I read a chapter because I really, really don't know what is going to happen.
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Date: 2005-10-31 07:24 pm (UTC)actually, i got an idea that i'm pretty excited about while i wrote this chapter, but i think it's going to take many, many parts to write the whole thing. hopefully i can make it interesting enough for people to stick around until the end!
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Date: 2005-11-01 09:47 am (UTC)I don't think there's much danger of that not happening. I was glad to see Fred beginning to sort of stick up for herself, btw. Even if what she wants from Angelus is scary and disturbing, I'm glad she's determined enough to get it that she won't stay passive.
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Date: 2005-11-01 12:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-01 03:21 pm (UTC)i think the problem is that i still want him to be kind of sexy, and he can't really be sexy if every other paragraph is just a graphic description of him maiming someone, you know?
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Date: 2005-11-01 03:45 pm (UTC)Fred's extreme passivity must be an odd challenge for Angelus - as you brought out earlier, Fred's broken to begin with, so he can't break her unless he fixes her up first. Shudder.
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Date: 2005-11-01 07:59 pm (UTC)He sees that there's no fight in Fred, so there's not much sadistic pleasure to be had in beating the crap out of her.
this is what i'm hoping comes across, but i still worry that people might think he ought to be more violent. just about every fic i've ever read about angelus has him cutting people's noses off and stuff.
disfigurement = not. sexy.
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Date: 2005-11-01 09:32 pm (UTC)Well, I think you're getting it spot on. People do know he has that violence, so it makes him read very threatening here.
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Date: 2005-11-01 01:43 pm (UTC)His voice sounded pleasant enough, but she could still hear that kind of amused sarcasm that was unique to Angelus.
But also very chilling.
She swallowed back a lump in her throat. Okay, Fred. No more feeling sorry for yourself. If that's how he's going to play it, you can play this too.
I really like that – you’ve got Angelus at his worst (and really the way you write him is so spot-on and also really very creepy) but somehow you do manage to swing the pendulum back and we see some of the fighting spirit that has kept Fred strong. Except, now of course, her focus is sorta somewhat different.
Still quite mesmerising!
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Date: 2005-11-01 07:48 pm (UTC)i'm really glad you like my angelus. even though the main character here is fred, i'm more worried about my characterization of angelus than i am about her... which i guess makes sense because fred's not her canon self here, whereas angelus is supposed to be. i was just telling
ha, "somewhat different." you could say that. :D
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Date: 2005-11-02 05:14 pm (UTC)Yeah, he's not overtly evil is he? He kind of lulls you into a false sense of security, enjoys toying with you and then bam! turns on you.
So I suppose if you've got the build-up, the tension working then the bam will too ;)
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Date: 2005-11-04 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-04 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-15 03:12 am (UTC)He pressed his face to her neck, breathing deeply. "Do you want to know what I was thinking about, Fred?" he asked.
She could feel his lips move. She barely nodded, not bothering to open her eyes, heard herself murmur, "Yes." Any second now...
He moved his mouth up right next to her ear. "Not you," he whispered.
OUCH! Wow this line was sooo perfect and sexy in a weird way. Makes me think of a pick up line for masochists.
Loved this chapter like I did the lasts three, really wonderful haunting writing.
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Date: 2006-08-15 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-22 04:53 pm (UTC)What can I say I have issues *shrugs*
*heads off to next chapter*
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Date: 2008-03-08 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-03-08 07:44 pm (UTC)Some more than others;) Me included.XD
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Date: 2008-10-27 06:25 pm (UTC)I felt so bad for Fred when Angelus told her he wasn't thinking about her. At the same time though, it was delicious making.
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Date: 2009-07-13 06:08 am (UTC)