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snoggedFirstly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cafedemonde
Secondly, hope you like your present!
Title: Road to Redemption
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Spike/Connor
Word Count: 1918
Rating: NC-17/FRAO; violence/punishment, masturbation, facials, dub-con, adult language, sexual slurs
Summary: Set during Angel Season 5 “Origins” because I have a twisted sense of looking at life.
Beta:rockstarpeach. Any other mistakes are mine.
A/N: written forcafedemonde who wanted to see a fic where Spike punished Connor for pushing Angel into the ocean. Hope this suits you, hun!
On the road to redemption, there are rocks to make one trip and fall.
Spike lunged at Illyria, the rage inside him burning a hole, charring him from within. He was a champion. Had taken down the pouf with flying colors, had taken on the demons of the world, had turned Sunnydale into a crumbling pile of dust.
But the ancient god barely noticed, barely flinched whenever he got a punch in. She easily dodged him and could knock him flat on his back with a single punch. And today was no exception. The hard wood against his cheek, the bruising ache in his bones, and the stiletto heel of her boot digging into the base of his neck reminded him of that failure.
He could hear the double doors swing open and after a lingering second, Illyria released him, training her cold eyes on Angel and the little twerp he had brought in with him.
Spike rolled to his feet and took in the new presence, a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. The twerp was surprisingly cute. Dark eyes. Nice muscle tone. Shaggy brown hair that framed his face just right. Made him look kinda like…Angel.
Fuck!
Kid was a perv like Angel too from the way his cock was tenting his khakis. And all from the sight of Illyria in her body armor. Not that Spike wasn’t willing to admit that the God of bitches was a looker but lately, feminine wiles just weren’t doing it for him. And it would have been a nice burst of pride if the kid got a hard-on from looking at him too.
Even when he was bruised and bloody, he was still hot shit. Buffy. Drusilla. Darla. Angelus. They had all licked his wounds. They had all impaled themselves on his throbbing cock. Well, Angelus didn’t really do the impaling so much. But the point still stood. People lined up for a taste of what he had to offer and this brat should be no exception.
When Lorne walked in with news from Wesley, Spike knew he had to take the opportunity to borrow Connor Riley and test his theory about this kid being Angel’s son. Because if it were true…the little shit would have a lot of explaining to do.
Spike knew all the stories about Angel’s son. How he was a fucking psychopath who had been hell bent on destroying everyone and everything in his path. How he had nailed Cordelia as fire rained down from the sky. How he had locked up Angel and thrown him into the Atlantic Ocean.
That last bit irked him the most. It had made him want to lash out at this strangely familiar bloke, make him feel pain, make him feel punishment. Didn’t matter that Connor really didn’t look like he fit the psychopath description. Looked more like a horny college kid with a strange aura of innocence.
“Angel, mate, how ‘bout you leave the whelp here while you tend to business? I promise not to let Big Blue lay on finger on his pretty head,” Spike said, taking a step forward to grab Connor by the wrist. A flash of excitement burned in Connor’s eyes and the smell of adrenaline pumped through his heart. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Connor was all about the action and craved the rush.
“Not a whelp,” Connor murmured under his breath, before turning to look at Angel. “But can I?”
Angel glowered at Spike, nostrils flaring and lips twitching. There was a deep sense of protection in his chestnut eyes. One that went beyond the standard call of duty when helping the helpless. It was a look that Spike knew well and stirred up the sense of possession he still felt from being Angel’s childe. There was no question in his mind that this kid had deep ties to Angel. Ties that went as deep as the blood in their veins. There was also a sense of warning. A warning that clearly said: ‘you hurt him and not only will I stake your ass, I will rip you wide open with my cock before I do it.’
Naturally, Spike rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “It’d be good for him to learn some fighting skills. And you know, no one can take a punch better than me.”
A low chuckle escaped Angel’s lips and Spike smirked, pleased with the result of his subtle manipulation. Sometimes, Angel was just a little too easy to convince. Even when it came to things he cared about most in life.
“You can take Madam Leather Pants with you,” Spike offered, crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t take long for the whole room to clear out.
Illyria frowned, her fist tensing, fingernails making half crescent moons in the material of her gloves. She had clearly hoped to play with her pet more but instead of fighting it, walked out the door with Angel and Lorne.
On the road to redemption, there are cracks that will swallow one whole.
Spike was lightning fast, pushing the boy against the wall. He wrapped his hands around his neck, and felt the hard flutter of Connor’s pulse beneath his palm.
“What the-?” Connor shrieked, not expecting a sudden assault.
“Daddy didn’t teach you to fight, huh?” Spike hissed, blunt teeth nipping at Connor’s ear lobe.
Connor pursed his lips, frowing, he knew damn well how to fight. He had proved that last night when he had thrown the demon six feet into the air. But the way Illyria had made him feel, the way Spike was making him feel, he couldn’t seem to recall how to even close his fist. It was like being horny and stupid had triggered a sense of motionless, had made him stop dead in his tracks.
Attacking Connor like this hadn’t been Spike’s plan but knowing just how close Angel was him triggered some sort of sibling rivalry within him. And the fact that Angel had forgiven everything Connor had done just seemed bloody unforgivable. The kid had locked Angel in a coffin and didn’t even get a smack on the wrist. But, Connor wasn’t going to escape punishment today. Spike intended to make Connor squirm and writhe beneath him as he got drilled for answers. Sounded much more entertaining that just a simple conversation over tea and crumpets. Sounded a lot hotter too.
Connor struggled to bring his leg up between them so he could get a knee to Spike’s groin but Spike blocked him by pressing himself tighter to Connor’s wiry frame. Connor’s erection bulged against his and Spike crowed with delight. Looked like the whelp had a thing for him after all.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Connor breathed, angry eyes locked on Spike’s. “I thought you were going to teach me how to fight.”
“Nah,” Spike said, chuckling low in his throat. He pressed his lips to Connor’s cheek and could smell sweet, fear-drenched blood tingling against his nostrils. “Actually got a bone to pick with you. You see, I don’t like having my family fucked with.”
“I didn’t…” Connor whispered. “I don’t know anyone in your family.”
“Yes you do,” Spike hissed. “You know them very well. Just appears you’ve forgotten. Convenient little trick, I’d say. Who did it for you? A warlock? A demon? I’d be happy to rip their throat out so you can remember again.”
Connor gulped. He felt truly afraid, felt weak against the pressing strength of the blond vampire on top of him. It was not a feeling he liked one bit. “Please…please, don’t hurt me.” He was surprised by how much this was turning him on. The violence of it, the depravity of this demon’s cock pressed against his thigh. His brain felt muddled, confused by the thoughts swirling in his head. Things that were this fucked up shouldn’t make him feel hard.
Spike tightened his grip on Connor’s throat, feeling a surge, a thrill as brown eyes widened and breaths sounded choked. The soul wasn’t even interfering. The soul was letting him cause pain without giving him a twinge of guilt, without making him feel like he was stepping out of the bounds of morality. Maybe it was because deep down in his gut, he was doing this because he loved Angel and that this was just one more hurdle on his road to redemption.
Tears burned against Connor’s cheeks and Spike took that moment to throw the whelp to the ground. Letting him feel the ache in his bones, letting him feel the hard grain of the wood against his back.
This was punishment. His punishment. Punishment for a crime Connor didn’t even remember committing. But amnesia was no excuse for all the shit that Connor had done. Past lives were always great for biting one in the ass. Spike had his day with the Slayer and the First and Angel. He had been punished for his sins. And now it was Connor’s turn to pay.
“Had enough, Connor?” Spike asked, fingers manipulating the zipper of his black jeans. The metal teeth rapidly clicked open and Connor turned his head towards the wall, not daring to look as Spike’s turgid cock fell into his hands.
The blond vampire stroked his dick, his hands tugging with short, eager strokes. He ran his thumb across the thick blue-grey veins, grunting from the sensations. Spike stepped forward until he was on either side of Connor, squeezing the boy’s legs between his calves.
“Open your mouth, boy.” Spike ordered, feeling heady from the power trip he was getting from this. “Wouldn’t want you to stain those preppy college clothes of yours.”
Connor gulped loudly and slowly spread his jaws wide, acquiescing to Spike’s command. He would never verbally admit to it but he was completely into this. No matter how sick and twisted it was. No matter how screwed up it made him. It was what his body craved, what it needed.
He wanted Spike to punish him. Wanted to feel forgiveness. Wanted to feel the calm from having his unnamed guilt wash away.
Spike’s balls tightened and a white, hot spray of come erupted from the tip of his prick baptizing Connor’s forehead, nose, and mouth with spunk. Connor’s tongue darted passed his lips, lapping up what he could, feeling like he was swallowing down some strange, slick mixture of tapioca and motor oil.
Spike wiped his wet hand on his trousers, leaving a small white stain on the inside seam. He knew Angel would spot it but the other wankers in the office were likely to be none the wiser. He imagined Angel would pull him across the desk and smack his ass ‘til it was red and raw before fucking him into a delicious, debauched oblivion.
“I feel better,” Spike said, hips swaggering as he made his way to the other side of the room. “How ‘bout you?”
Connor got to his feet and Spike expected he would follow. Instead, Spike was surprised when the boy took off in a sprint, barreling through the double doors, cheeks heated from embarrassment.
He considered following the boy in the hopes of getting a little more action but found himself opting against it. If Connor wanted to come back, he would. And at some point or another, they always did.
On the road to redemption, temptation is always lurking in the shadows, offering its sweet apple from the pits of hell.
cafedemondeSecondly, hope you like your present!
Title: Road to Redemption
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Spike/Connor
Word Count: 1918
Rating: NC-17/FRAO; violence/punishment, masturbation, facials, dub-con, adult language, sexual slurs
Summary: Set during Angel Season 5 “Origins” because I have a twisted sense of looking at life.
Beta:
rockstarpeach. Any other mistakes are mine.A/N: written for
cafedemonde who wanted to see a fic where Spike punished Connor for pushing Angel into the ocean. Hope this suits you, hun!On the road to redemption, there are rocks to make one trip and fall.
Spike lunged at Illyria, the rage inside him burning a hole, charring him from within. He was a champion. Had taken down the pouf with flying colors, had taken on the demons of the world, had turned Sunnydale into a crumbling pile of dust.
But the ancient god barely noticed, barely flinched whenever he got a punch in. She easily dodged him and could knock him flat on his back with a single punch. And today was no exception. The hard wood against his cheek, the bruising ache in his bones, and the stiletto heel of her boot digging into the base of his neck reminded him of that failure.
He could hear the double doors swing open and after a lingering second, Illyria released him, training her cold eyes on Angel and the little twerp he had brought in with him.
Spike rolled to his feet and took in the new presence, a smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. The twerp was surprisingly cute. Dark eyes. Nice muscle tone. Shaggy brown hair that framed his face just right. Made him look kinda like…Angel.
Fuck!
Kid was a perv like Angel too from the way his cock was tenting his khakis. And all from the sight of Illyria in her body armor. Not that Spike wasn’t willing to admit that the God of bitches was a looker but lately, feminine wiles just weren’t doing it for him. And it would have been a nice burst of pride if the kid got a hard-on from looking at him too.
Even when he was bruised and bloody, he was still hot shit. Buffy. Drusilla. Darla. Angelus. They had all licked his wounds. They had all impaled themselves on his throbbing cock. Well, Angelus didn’t really do the impaling so much. But the point still stood. People lined up for a taste of what he had to offer and this brat should be no exception.
When Lorne walked in with news from Wesley, Spike knew he had to take the opportunity to borrow Connor Riley and test his theory about this kid being Angel’s son. Because if it were true…the little shit would have a lot of explaining to do.
Spike knew all the stories about Angel’s son. How he was a fucking psychopath who had been hell bent on destroying everyone and everything in his path. How he had nailed Cordelia as fire rained down from the sky. How he had locked up Angel and thrown him into the Atlantic Ocean.
That last bit irked him the most. It had made him want to lash out at this strangely familiar bloke, make him feel pain, make him feel punishment. Didn’t matter that Connor really didn’t look like he fit the psychopath description. Looked more like a horny college kid with a strange aura of innocence.
“Angel, mate, how ‘bout you leave the whelp here while you tend to business? I promise not to let Big Blue lay on finger on his pretty head,” Spike said, taking a step forward to grab Connor by the wrist. A flash of excitement burned in Connor’s eyes and the smell of adrenaline pumped through his heart. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Connor was all about the action and craved the rush.
“Not a whelp,” Connor murmured under his breath, before turning to look at Angel. “But can I?”
Angel glowered at Spike, nostrils flaring and lips twitching. There was a deep sense of protection in his chestnut eyes. One that went beyond the standard call of duty when helping the helpless. It was a look that Spike knew well and stirred up the sense of possession he still felt from being Angel’s childe. There was no question in his mind that this kid had deep ties to Angel. Ties that went as deep as the blood in their veins. There was also a sense of warning. A warning that clearly said: ‘you hurt him and not only will I stake your ass, I will rip you wide open with my cock before I do it.’
Naturally, Spike rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “It’d be good for him to learn some fighting skills. And you know, no one can take a punch better than me.”
A low chuckle escaped Angel’s lips and Spike smirked, pleased with the result of his subtle manipulation. Sometimes, Angel was just a little too easy to convince. Even when it came to things he cared about most in life.
“You can take Madam Leather Pants with you,” Spike offered, crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t take long for the whole room to clear out.
Illyria frowned, her fist tensing, fingernails making half crescent moons in the material of her gloves. She had clearly hoped to play with her pet more but instead of fighting it, walked out the door with Angel and Lorne.
On the road to redemption, there are cracks that will swallow one whole.
Spike was lightning fast, pushing the boy against the wall. He wrapped his hands around his neck, and felt the hard flutter of Connor’s pulse beneath his palm.
“What the-?” Connor shrieked, not expecting a sudden assault.
“Daddy didn’t teach you to fight, huh?” Spike hissed, blunt teeth nipping at Connor’s ear lobe.
Connor pursed his lips, frowing, he knew damn well how to fight. He had proved that last night when he had thrown the demon six feet into the air. But the way Illyria had made him feel, the way Spike was making him feel, he couldn’t seem to recall how to even close his fist. It was like being horny and stupid had triggered a sense of motionless, had made him stop dead in his tracks.
Attacking Connor like this hadn’t been Spike’s plan but knowing just how close Angel was him triggered some sort of sibling rivalry within him. And the fact that Angel had forgiven everything Connor had done just seemed bloody unforgivable. The kid had locked Angel in a coffin and didn’t even get a smack on the wrist. But, Connor wasn’t going to escape punishment today. Spike intended to make Connor squirm and writhe beneath him as he got drilled for answers. Sounded much more entertaining that just a simple conversation over tea and crumpets. Sounded a lot hotter too.
Connor struggled to bring his leg up between them so he could get a knee to Spike’s groin but Spike blocked him by pressing himself tighter to Connor’s wiry frame. Connor’s erection bulged against his and Spike crowed with delight. Looked like the whelp had a thing for him after all.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Connor breathed, angry eyes locked on Spike’s. “I thought you were going to teach me how to fight.”
“Nah,” Spike said, chuckling low in his throat. He pressed his lips to Connor’s cheek and could smell sweet, fear-drenched blood tingling against his nostrils. “Actually got a bone to pick with you. You see, I don’t like having my family fucked with.”
“I didn’t…” Connor whispered. “I don’t know anyone in your family.”
“Yes you do,” Spike hissed. “You know them very well. Just appears you’ve forgotten. Convenient little trick, I’d say. Who did it for you? A warlock? A demon? I’d be happy to rip their throat out so you can remember again.”
Connor gulped. He felt truly afraid, felt weak against the pressing strength of the blond vampire on top of him. It was not a feeling he liked one bit. “Please…please, don’t hurt me.” He was surprised by how much this was turning him on. The violence of it, the depravity of this demon’s cock pressed against his thigh. His brain felt muddled, confused by the thoughts swirling in his head. Things that were this fucked up shouldn’t make him feel hard.
Spike tightened his grip on Connor’s throat, feeling a surge, a thrill as brown eyes widened and breaths sounded choked. The soul wasn’t even interfering. The soul was letting him cause pain without giving him a twinge of guilt, without making him feel like he was stepping out of the bounds of morality. Maybe it was because deep down in his gut, he was doing this because he loved Angel and that this was just one more hurdle on his road to redemption.
Tears burned against Connor’s cheeks and Spike took that moment to throw the whelp to the ground. Letting him feel the ache in his bones, letting him feel the hard grain of the wood against his back.
This was punishment. His punishment. Punishment for a crime Connor didn’t even remember committing. But amnesia was no excuse for all the shit that Connor had done. Past lives were always great for biting one in the ass. Spike had his day with the Slayer and the First and Angel. He had been punished for his sins. And now it was Connor’s turn to pay.
“Had enough, Connor?” Spike asked, fingers manipulating the zipper of his black jeans. The metal teeth rapidly clicked open and Connor turned his head towards the wall, not daring to look as Spike’s turgid cock fell into his hands.
The blond vampire stroked his dick, his hands tugging with short, eager strokes. He ran his thumb across the thick blue-grey veins, grunting from the sensations. Spike stepped forward until he was on either side of Connor, squeezing the boy’s legs between his calves.
“Open your mouth, boy.” Spike ordered, feeling heady from the power trip he was getting from this. “Wouldn’t want you to stain those preppy college clothes of yours.”
Connor gulped loudly and slowly spread his jaws wide, acquiescing to Spike’s command. He would never verbally admit to it but he was completely into this. No matter how sick and twisted it was. No matter how screwed up it made him. It was what his body craved, what it needed.
He wanted Spike to punish him. Wanted to feel forgiveness. Wanted to feel the calm from having his unnamed guilt wash away.
Spike’s balls tightened and a white, hot spray of come erupted from the tip of his prick baptizing Connor’s forehead, nose, and mouth with spunk. Connor’s tongue darted passed his lips, lapping up what he could, feeling like he was swallowing down some strange, slick mixture of tapioca and motor oil.
Spike wiped his wet hand on his trousers, leaving a small white stain on the inside seam. He knew Angel would spot it but the other wankers in the office were likely to be none the wiser. He imagined Angel would pull him across the desk and smack his ass ‘til it was red and raw before fucking him into a delicious, debauched oblivion.
“I feel better,” Spike said, hips swaggering as he made his way to the other side of the room. “How ‘bout you?”
Connor got to his feet and Spike expected he would follow. Instead, Spike was surprised when the boy took off in a sprint, barreling through the double doors, cheeks heated from embarrassment.
He considered following the boy in the hopes of getting a little more action but found himself opting against it. If Connor wanted to come back, he would. And at some point or another, they always did.
On the road to redemption, temptation is always lurking in the shadows, offering its sweet apple from the pits of hell.
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on 2009-03-10 03:39 pm (UTC)*hugs*
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on 2009-03-10 03:41 pm (UTC)Thanks hun
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on 2009-03-10 03:58 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-10 04:30 pm (UTC)AWESOME piece hun!!!!!!!!!!!
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on 2009-03-10 04:32 pm (UTC)Spike is excellent at dishing out a fitting punishment. Those two together are just...hot ;-)
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on 2009-03-11 04:22 am (UTC)I'm so glad you approve
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on 2009-03-10 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-11 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-10 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-11 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-10 08:03 pm (UTC)It's a GREAT name baby! *Winks*
--Fetish, Cheapen the Moment & Road to Redemption team.
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on 2009-03-11 04:17 am (UTC)That is funny.
Glad it made you laugh and that you enjoyed it
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on 2009-03-10 08:10 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-11 04:16 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-10 08:33 pm (UTC)Gabrielle
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on 2009-03-11 04:16 am (UTC)So I'm thrilled you decided to read it :)
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on 2009-03-11 02:42 am (UTC)*smooches* xxx
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on 2009-03-11 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-12 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-16 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2009-03-17 10:12 pm (UTC)xxx
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on 2009-03-18 12:42 am (UTC)I'm thrilled this worked for you, hun