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F E A T U R E D F I C O F T H E M O M E N T
INDEX
BRE'S ARCHIVE
AUTHOR'S ARCHIVE
INTERACTIVE
AUTHOR
SITE
 R O S E S W A T E R E D W I T H B L O O D S E R I E S B Y B R E P A R T T H R E E Buffy looked up the instant the door opened and her sobs stopped when she saw who was at the door. The smirking blonde stared back at her and she bit the inside of her cheek. "Spike," she greeted mockingly, her voice full of a mixture of anger and growing hatred as he closed the door. "Hello, Buffy," he said with a sigh as she leaned against the wall. "And how is my little whore doing?" "Go to hell," Buffy snapped. "Who the fuck do you think you are, taking me?" "Who the fuck do you think you are, fucking your captor?" Spike demanded of her. Pushing away from the wall as Buffy’s eyes widened, he watched her remove her gaze from his and direct it towards the bedspread. He cocked his head. "Yeah... guilty as charged, eh?" "Shut. Up," Buffy bit out as she looked back to him. "What... did you guys trade sex stories out in the hall? Taking turns, are we?" Spike snorted. "Like I would. Angel does this with everyone. He gets off on it. But as far as you’re concerned, I wouldn’t feel too special. I wouldn’t touch you. Even if you had a knife to my throat, begging me." Buffy glared, ignoring the tinge of jealousy that reared its ugly head inside of her at his comment about Angel. Did they do this that damned often? Ignoring his blatant barb, she responded, "Why did you take me? Why are you keeping me? Why aren’t I dead?" "Now where would the fun be in that, love?" Spike asked, pushing his hands in his pockets from where he stood next to the bed. "When I could torture you all the live long day?" "How could I forget... I know Faith didn’t." Buffy felt a deep pain in her chest at her friend’s name, at the mere thought of her. She remembered the night she didn’t come back ever again. Keeping her gaze level with his, she clearly saw the bright blue of his eyes darken almost instantly. "What?" he asked quietly. Buffy stood from the bed, walking around to stand before him. She looked up at him, her face shuttered as she spoke, "I said... Faith didn’t." His hand struck out faster than she could react and her head snapped to the side, her cheek exploding with pain as he roughly grabbed her arms, hauling her closer to him as he forced her to look at him. His face a mere inch from hers, she felt his spittle as he spat, "Don’t you fucking say her name." "Why the fuck not?" Buffy demanded. "You were the one who hurt her." "Shut up!" Spike roared, throwing her to the bed. Buffy gasped in anguish as she landed on her hand, causing pain to spike through her arm as she instinctively rolled off her arm to relieve it of her weight. Sitting up as quickly as she could, she moved to scramble across the bed only to be stopped by his large hand cupping her ankle and pulling her back to him. Buffy cried out as her top rode up to expose her midriff as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the heavy bulk of her former boss rest on her body, forcefully spreading her legs to make room for his hips. Buffy cried out in resistance as she moved to push him away, her nails digging into his shoulders. He merely grunted as he ripped her hands away from his body, forcing them above her head where he held her wrists together in one of his large hands. Buffy gasped in shock and disagreement as his hand slipped under her top. "Stop it, dammit!" "Oh, little Buffy," Spike said with obvious amusement and scorn. "Why would you want that? If you can spread for that dick out there, I’m sure you can for me." "Fuck you, Spike," Buffy spat, ignoring the hot tear that ran down her cheek. "Get the hell off of me!" Spike growled angrily, pressing his free hand against her ribs painfully, pushing down in an attempt to stop her squirming. Buffy released a whimper as the pain in her body increased instantly and she allowed him to push her into the bed. Buffy closed her eyes as he smirked. "Now that’s a good little girl," Spike said, removing his hand and cupping one of her breasts. "Don’t you fucking move, now... understand?" Buffy didn’t reply as he fondled her breast, but she could feel his heavy gaze on her face. Buffy shuddered. A moment passed in complete silence, Buffy’s rigid body refusing to respond to his ministrations. Another silent moment hung in the air until Spike squeezed her wrists, his thumb pressing roughly into her temporary cast. The only sign Buffy showed that she acknowledged him was her face crinkling slightly from the slight pain that streaked through her arm. It didn’t help that her arm was forced into the awkward position. "C’mon, you stupid bitch," Spike growled against her face, his hot breath dancing across her face unpleasantly. Buffy finally opened her eyes and she met his eyes, seeing the slight triumph that clouded his blue orbs. She clenched her teeth before speaking. "Is this what you did to Faith?" she asked quietly and Spike’s amusement with the situation instantly turned into dulled rage as he shuttered his face. Clenching his jaw, he stared down at her. "You’re really are stupid, aren’t you?" Buffy’s eye twitched at his response, but she ignored it. "Well?" she demanded. "Did you fuck Faith like this, you ugly bastard?" "Shut up, Buffy," he said in a low voice and Buffy smirked at him. "Why should I, Spikey?" she asked mockingly. "Did Faith ever ask you to stop?" "Fuck you!" Spike shouted into her face, his hands finding their way to her neck instantly. Buffy’s eyes widened in shock as his thumbs pressed into her throat, her hands coming down to grasp his wrists as he applied horrible pressure. "You don’t know fucking anything!" Buffy’s mouth moved to let a cough out, but the breath wouldn’t come. The instinct for survival overcame her senses as she started bucking against him. But her lack of oxygen only fueled her weakness and Spike easily overpowered her as she struggled against him. He glared down at her, his face set in concentration. A small squeak forced it’s way through Buffy’s lips and her eyes widened in alarm as black spots began dancing around the edges of her vision. Urgent panic flashed in Buffy’s mind as she attempted to fight his strong hold on her. She couldn’t get away. She was stuck here. She was unable to save herself. Her mind blanked on ways to get away from him and she felt utterly helpless as he pushed against her delicate throat. She felt his fingers squeezing her neck, wrapped around it tightly. Her arms became suddenly heavy as did her legs... a feeling of utter despair roared through her system and she wondered briefly why Angel didn’t come in and save her. Where was he? Then Spike’s fingers were gone. Air rushed into her lungs like a dam breaking and she gasped it in, the sudden oxygen making her dizzy as she rolled to her side, coughing painfully. She could still feel his fingers around her throat and she touched her neck gently, her nails scraping against her skin as if attempting to rid herself of the feeling. Then her pants were being tugged off of her roughly. Buffy’s head shot up on instinct and another round of horrible dizziness attacked her as the vision before her blurred, but she knew what was happening. "No," she croaked as Spike ripped her pants from her body, throwing them to the floor. Buffy gasped in pain as he grabbed her thigh, digging his nails into her muscles. "No." "Yes," Spike replied angrily, using her discombobulation against her as he pulled her against him again. He didn’t speak as he pulled her legs apart and he unzipped his pants, pulling his semi-limp cock free. Stroking it evenly, feeling it grow harder, he stared at her face. She had her eyes closed and she was coughing violently, muttering no weakly in between. Spike chuckled humorlessly as he felt hot pre-cum against his fingers. "Spike, please," Buffy whimpered, digging her fingernails into the bedspread around her. He hovered over her, his face emotionless as he positioned his hard dick at her entrance. And then he pushed into her violently, causing Buffy to scream from the hostile intrusion. It felt like his hardness was tearing her apart from within as he sank further into her dry channel. Buffy had never felt such horrible pain and it was all she could not to scream for help. No one would come. The ghost of his fingers around her neck was forgotten as he pulled back out and thrust back into her, grunting. Buffy bucked against him, her head thrashing on the bed as she cried, her nails scratching at his clothed shoulders. Spike seemed to be paying no mind to her actions as he pulled back out. It continued that way, neither receiving pleasure as Spike moved to increase his pace. There wasn’t supposed to be for her, most certainly, but for him it was another story. Spike growled in annoyance as he moved to cup her cheek. Looking into her eyes gently and slowing his pace considerably, he spoke to her, "I know you like this, Buffy. I’ve known you for a long time and you can’t lie to me." Shock colored her features and she shook her head as more tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and down into her hair and the comforter. Spike felt his small level of patience snap as she shook her head and he grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing her face closer to his as he thrust into her harder. "No," Buffy cried. "Please... stop... it hurts so much..." "It will hurt a whole lot more if you don’t get that fucking pussy dripping, you little bitch," Spike snarled against her lips before mauling them, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Buffy moved to bite it but he pulled back quickly, anger clouding his face like an oncoming thunderstorm. Buffy gasped again. "Shut the fuck up, little Buffy, or I swear to God I’ll slit that pretty throat of yours." Buffy’s tears increased. It took several minutes of dry thrusts for Spike to realize that she was muttering something under her breath. Slowing once again, he leaned closer to her. And then he laughed out loud. "Angel... Angel... help... please..." "So that’s it, huh?" Spike asked, his amusement returning ten fold. "You want your pussy of a man Angel, right?" Buffy didn’t respond, a sob escaping her mouth as she moved to escape into her mind. Spike smiled cruelly down at her, before looking over his shoulder towards the corner of the room. He chuckled. "Well this just got a whole lot better." Turning back to her, he saw her bringing her arms up to cover her chest, her eyes shut tightly. He shook his head, moving to grab her arms. "Uh uh. I don’t think so, sweetling. It would appear you’ve opened my eyes to a small revelation." Slowing his pace considerably, he was almost barely moving within her and Buffy’s pained posture relaxed noticeably, almost on instinct. Then she felt his cold fingers on her dry clit. They were slick and moved against her easily and she unconsciously arched into his touch, a small amount of pleasure blossoming within her belly. She immediately felt her hot juices surge forward as he manipulated her clit. And then reality hit her. What was he doing? And she was responding... "No," Buffy gasped, moving to push his hand away. He shot her a hard look as he pushed it away, forcing her to lay back as he held her hand above her head. She struggled weakly as he pushed more insistently against her slick nubbin. "Stop." Spike smirked, moving his hips back before thrusting into her roughly. She was so much wetter and Spike groaned with the physical rush her small body provided for him. "How about no," he grunted as he pulled back once more. "No... Spike, stop it," Buffy whimpered. "Stop..." As Spike’s thrusts increased, Buffy felt the now-familiar panic build in her chest once more. "Stop it!" "Shut the hell up," Spike moaned, closing his eyes. Buffy glared at his shuttered face as some of her energy suddenly returned. Was she really here? Was this really happening to her? Bullshit. "Get the fuck off!" Buffy hissed, digging her heels into the back of his thighs as she pushed her fingernails into his shoulders. Spike’s eyes flew open and he pushed her hands off as his he moved to her legs. Digging his fingers into her thighs, he pulled her legs higher, forcing her to arch her hips into his as he pulled back. He smirked at her as her body contorted to his wishes. "Baby likes it rough, eh?" he asked as his lips pulled back into a mocking sneer as he thrust deeper into her. Buffy gasped in pain and unwanted pleasure before squeezing her eyes shut. Why was this happening to her? Why had she even been in this damned business in the first damned place? "Get... off me!" Buffy barked, bucking her hips against his. "Get the fuck away-" Her words died into a strangled cry of pain as the cool metal of a dagger pressed into her thigh. She hadn’t even felt him reach into his pocket to retrieve it. Hadn’t felt his hand move from her leg. Hadn’t felt anything until the shockingly cold knife pushed into her soft skin. Buffy’s mind once more blanked as he pushed it into her flesh. It wasn’t lost on Spike that there was a camera in the room. It had slipped his mind upon his first entry into the room but he knew that Angelus would watch this sooner or later. It gave him a raw sense of joy to have that tiny bit of knowledge. It reminded him of what happened to Faith. Faith... Pushing the sharp dagger into her muscled leg, Spike used his free hand to grab her chin and force her to meet his eyes as he squeezed it. Buffy gasped in pain as she met his icy eyes. "Now, now, Buffy," he said in a chillingly soft voice. "I don’t think you want this," Spike ran the knife down her leg a short distance, leaving a bloody trail as Buffy released a cry from her throat, "to happen to that pretty little neck of yours." The pained tears rose in her eyes quickly and they spilled free as Buffy closed her eyes. "Right?" Buffy gasped in air as he ran the knife back up her leg, leaving yet another trail of blood as her skin fell open. "Buffy?" "Stop... please," Buffy whispered. "I’ll do whatever... just... stop..." Spike smirked in triumph. "That’s a girl."
Spike sighed in satisfaction as he left the blonde’s current room, locking the door behind him. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans, he walked down the hallway, a smug smile on his face, leaving behind the broken, sobbing form of Buffy Summers.
Angel’s eyes felt heavy. Heavier than they did five minutes ago. And five minutes before that. Slumped in his large office chair, he sat facing the large, curtained windows that overlooked the stone fountain that was the center of the gardens behind the large mansion. Lush green trees threw long shadows on the ground as the sun sank quickly, leaving the dark night sky to overtake the world. But Angel couldn’t see this. He instead chose to stare at the vast darkness that were his heavy curtains. His face was expressionless as he brought the heavy glass bottle in his right hand to his lips, pouring the amber liquid down his throat. He barely winced at the burning sensation. He didn’t take the time to notice the dark shadows befalling the room as his mind replayed the fight in the hall with Spike. Over something he had hoped was far over. But it never was. When would he learn? When would they learn? Faith. His beautiful, dark Faith. With her dark, chestnut hair and stormy eyes. So full of fire and righteousness, something she deservedly got from their father. The only good thing either of them got out of the relationship with their so called dad. Angel could remember the exact events of the night Faith disappeared from his life forever, when Spike had to... Shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, Angel felt the dizziness attack his thoughts. The alcohol was supposed to be killing the pain, not his brain cells. Setting the bottle on the ground, Angel brought a heavy hand up to his eyes, rubbing them roughly as he fought against the overwhelming need to sleep. It would be so easy just to close his eyes and pretend that everything hadn’t gotten so fucked up with the damned blonde sleeping in the room where he kept her prisoner. Whatever happened to just killing the stupid prisoner rather than keeping her for fun? Fun couldn’t be had anymore. Slowly turning his chair around, Angel slumped over his desk, laying his forehead against the cool wood. Several minutes passed of painful thoughts before Angel finally lifted his head and allowed himself to focus on the bright monitors glaring at him. The pictures were blurry at first before they began to clear and it took the large glowering man exactly fifteen seconds to realize what he was seeing before he was up and out of his chair, storming out of the office clumsily. The blinking image he had seen was a stilled picture of Spike thrusting into Buffy, her back arched in what he could only see as pleasure. "Fuck me," he growled to himself as he made his way to her bedroom.
Her cheeks were still wet with the dewy softness of her tears as Buffy stared at the blank wall. She was tired. Physically and mentally. Her entire being literally ached from what Spike had forced her to do earlier. Her leg throbbed with angry pain as she remembered the cool steel ripping into her skin, forcing her in complying with his every request. Buffy felt dirty and used. She felt betrayed. But mostly, she felt sick. Sick that Spike had forced her. Raped her. Threatened her. Made her feel fear. Scared her. Had it really been such a short time ago that she was strong and able and very willing to kick whoever’s ass touched her in the wrong places. Now she was wilting beneath the pounding power of the two men holding her hostage. They were eliciting fear in her. Making her feel it and it made her want to throw up. The feeling was so foreign... Wiping a limp hand across her face, Buffy readjusted her healing hand, sighing in contentment as it finally began to feel normal once more. After Spike had left, the deep throbbing in her hand hadn’t left and only seemed to increase as time went on. The more she thought on it, the more she began to realize that it was probably due to her stress and anxiety. Something she couldn’t really blame herself for. As minutes passed by, Buffy felt her body beginning to relax, sinking deeper and deeper into the soft cotton. Her eyes grew heavier and the idea of sleep grew with a pleasant alacrity. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
Angel unlocked the door softly, careful to keep quiet in case he was interrupting something. He wanted to catch them in the act so he could kill them both. How could Spike do this to him? How could Buffy? The fact that Angel was so zealously jealous over the fact that she might be willingly sleeping with another man made him madder at the thought as he opened the door quietly. He was surprised to hear only silence. Heavy breathing rippled the air, but that was the only sign that there was a living being in the room. Opening the door wider, Angel stepped in and shut it behind him. So Spike left. The bleached blonde was gone. Leaving Buffy all to him. As Angel locked the door, he began to think. What was Spike doing? Was this some kind of joke, this entire situation? If it was something as pathetic as that then Spike would find himself on the receiving end of a very long, sharp sword. Then in very little pieces which he would bury in concrete, keeping his head for a trophy. Closing his mind to the gruesome thoughts, Angel focused on the small lump hiding underneath the comforter. What was this to her? Where did she fit in? His train of thought was cut off as she shifted in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the warmth of the bed. She jerked slightly as she rested on her leg before moving quickly. Not enough to wake her fully. The numb rage building in his chest was welcomed with open arms as he approached the bed. Who the hell did she think she was? Playing him like that? Making him think that there could have been just a little something? Clenching his jaw, Angel stood over her still body, looking down at her. She would learn. She would learn that fucking with him would result in eons of pain. Reaching out with cold fingers, he slowly pulled the comforter back, revealing her lithe body to his eyes. She was covered in a think t-shirt and loosely fitted silk boxers. She was laying at an odd angle, looking wholly uncomfortable yet at the same time unwilling to move. The dark shadows of the room didn’t allow him to see the deep bruises that were slowly beginning to cover her body, marks left by Spike. It was because he couldn’t see the marks that he moved forward, gently sitting on the bed, careful not to wake her. "Buffy," he said in a soft whisper, staring at her face for any sort of reaction. There was none and she merely continued to sleep as if nothing was bothering her. He repeated her name, more aggressively as he laid his hand on her bare arm. She moved quickly, twisting away from his grasp as she continued sleeping. He noticed the deep frown on her face as she whispered no. "Buffy!" he whispered loudly and Buffy’s eyes snapped open, wide and fearful as they darted to the dark figure looming over her. The panic built in her chest too quickly. "No," she whimpered, turning around to scramble from the bed only to have her arm caught in the vice-like grasp of the man’s hand. She shouted in surprise as he twisted back to wrestle free. But he was too strong and she quickly found herself pinned to his bed, his long legs moving to hold her chest down as his long fingers cradled her neck. She opened her mouth to scream but his lips covered hers before she could utter a sound and she whimpered, attempting to pull back from the hard onslaught. As the man’s tongue pushed past her closed lips, she realized that it wasn’t Spike kissing her. It was Angel. She screamed in the back of her throat as he bit her lip. "Shut the fuck up, Buffy," Angel said, his voice colored with deep rage. Getting in close to her, he clenched his jaw. "What the fuck is going on with you and Spike?" At Spike’s name, Buffy’s eyes widened and she looked around the room unconsciously, not noting her fear. That was when his fingers began to tighten. "Angel," she whispered brokenly as he glared down at her. "Don’t you fucking lie to me," he growled breathlessly as he applied pressure to her neck. "Did you really think-" "Plea... se..." she breathed, tears escaping her eyes slowly. "It hurts..." Furrowing his brows, Angel smirked. "If you think that hurts..." His voice trailed off as his eyes ticked down towards the usually pale skin of her neck. Underneath his fingers he could see dark, angry marks. He immediately removed his hands and Buffy moved to cradle her neck as she coughed violently. It hurt to move her hands as his heavy bulk rested on her chest, pinning her to the bed. Angel reached forward to move her hands for a better look but she managed to dart out of his way. "Let me look," he argued as he looked down on her, his rage gone for the moment as the pieces began to fall into place. "What happened?" "Fuck you," Buffy rasped, her voice hoarse with the oncoming tears. "Get off me!" Angel moved off of her slowly and watched as she tugged the heavy comforter back over her body. He saw a flash of blood out of the corner of his eye as her leg disappeared and he moved towards her once more. "Buffy-" "Don’t touch me!" she hissed, turning her back to him. Angel frowned. "Buffy..." She didn’t answer and Angel stared down at her before realizing the dark cloak of night surrounding them wasn’t helping. He crawled off the bed, moving towards the light switch. Flicking it on, the room was bathed in a healthy glow and both occupants winced from the flash before quickly adjusting. Angel walked towards her once more. Buffy didn’t speak as he moved towards the side of the bed she was facing and sat down, tugging on the comforter. "Let me see what’s wrong." "No," Buffy snapped, turning to look up at him, her eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. "What were you expecting, a quick fuck? Well I’m not your fucking sex monkey or your punching bag! For either of you sick assholes!" Pushing away her other words for the moment, Angel glared down at her. "You don’t have a choice! Either you let me see or I make you. Which are you going to choose, you stubborn little..." Buffy glared up at him as Angel returned her gaze just as heatedly. Several minutes passed before he began to reach for the comforter once more. She resisted him once before allowing him to pull it back. She closed her eyes as he took in her body. Her neck had dark finger-shaped bruises that could only mean she had been choked. Her body was littered with the finger-sized marks and as his eyes landed on her leg, he paused. A long, deep scratch surrounded by a dozen smaller ones stood out against her alabaster skin. He sucked in a deep breath. "Spike did this to you," he said, not questioning it. Buffy didn’t respond but Angel could see the fine trembling in her body and her shaking lip as she fought not to cry. "Buffy..." She nodded sadly as she opened her eyes. "Yeah. I let him fuck me and cut me," she said in clipped tones as she fought her tears. "Not so sexy anymore, am I?" Frowning at her words, Angel ignored them as he stared down at her face, a different anger taking shape in his chest. It was then that he realized her had completely sobered. It was an odd feeling, the new rage combined with his sudden sobriety. It made it all the more real. "You thought I slept with him, didn’t you?" she asked. "You thought I fucked him. Well guess what, Angel? I don’t need to fuck the boss to get a better pay." Wincing at her bad attempt at angry sarcasm, Angel stood. "I’ll be back." Buffy scoffed, covering her body once more as she watched him leave. "I don’t need a fucking shining knight in armor," she spat. Angel turned around. "Why don’t you just shut up and take the help when it’s being offered." "Because that’s not what I do!" Buffy cried out. "I take care of myself and when that asshole comes in here, raping me, for fuck’s sakes, I fucking hate it! God!... I just want to go home!" Buffy’s scream echoed in the room and Angel’s face became shuttered as he stared at her. A tear slipped from her eye as she watched him slip out the door.
l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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