A couple Angel drabbles
Sep. 24th, 2006 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iceminkI forgot to post these in my journal. These were my entries into the last to rounds of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jos_las. For some reason they both ended up being about Angel.
The genre for the first one was dark and it's set during the episode "Angel"
It shouldn't have been difficult, waiting. He was good at waiting, he was a predator, he was patient. But spending the day in Buffy's room, waiting for her to come back, or for the sun to go down was driving him a little crazy.
Maybe it was her scent? It was intoxicating to Angel the man, but also aggravating to the demon inside. The demon she didn't even know she'd invited into her home the night before.
It made him cringe to think about it because it had been so easy for him, a vampire, to gain entrance into the Slayer's house. How many times had he tricked a victim into inviting him in? He knew a hundred ways to get someone to issue those magic words that would take down the barrier that kept his kind from killing anyone they wished.
But he was different now. He had the soul. He wasn't going to hurt Buffy. He was here to help her.
The sound of an approaching heart beat sent him back into the closet to hide.
"Buffy?" a young girl's voice called out.
Her sister Angel thought.
"Score!" Dawn said as she realized that Buffy wasn't home from school yet.
Through the slats of the closet door Angel could just make out the silhouette of the child as she ran over to her big sister's dresser and began riffling through Buffy's jewelry box. He could see little more than long light brown hair.
Just like Kathy's.
The thought made his stomach clench. He didn't think about Kathy. Sweet innocent Kathy, who'd invited him in.
"Liam!" her screams ripped though the air. "Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it," she cried over and over again. But Angelus didn't stop. He tossed aside his mother's body as he turned towards his sister.
Angel's hands rose to his ears, as if he could block out the screams from hundreds of years ago. He could smell his sister's terror as she saw what had come back from her brother's grave. And her screams went on and on and on. No matter what he did, he could never block out his sister's screams. He could never get away from them.
Kill her, the demon whispered. They stop screaming if you snap their necks. So thin, and brittle. She won't ever even know you're here. Not until she feels your fingers around her neck. Snap it! Drink! She's young and tender and sweet, and it's been so long. If you kill her, she'll stop screaming. They always stop when you kill them.
Angel's hand was on the closet door when he heard an actual scream.
"Dawn! I've told you don't come in my room!" and angry Buffy yelled from the hallway.
Angel's hand snapped back. He realized all of a sudden that he'd let his features slip into that of the demon. He closed his eyes and shut off his lungs to keep himself from breathing in the Slayer's scent, and slowly he shoved the demon back down where it belonged. He couldn't let Buffy see him like this. She would never understand. And Angel would do anything to keep her from knowing what it was he was truly capable of.
The End
And the genre for this one was PwP. I don't have a name for it but it's set right after the 50's flashback sequence in "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?"
Darla licked the last stray drop of blood from the corner of her mouth as she exited the apartment building. Now that she had gotten herself a place to stay during her excursion to Los Angeles, it was time to have some fun. There was no where else on earth where you could sup on young hopeful dreams like you could in Hollywood. And maybe she would find just the right young man to take back with her to Sunnydale and keep her entertained while her brethren tried to free the Master.
She was so rapt up in her hopes for the night's perversions, that she didn't notice she wasn't alone until she was pushed into the alley and her cheek rubbed up against a brick wall.
There was no mistaking the feel of the hard body that was pressed against her back. She knew it as well as her own.
"Angelus?" she asked. Her whole being was suddenly alert. She didn't know how she'd missed his presence, but now her every sense was aware of it. He didn't smell like rat, instead fear and despair clung to him. That, and the rough way he was treating her, gave her hope that her boy was finally back.
His hands roamed up and down her body, learning her curves as if she were a new conquest, not a woman he'd fucked for over a century, and the thought of having him back was making her wet.
"You'd have been proud," came his corse reply. The emotion in his voice told a different story. The soul was still there, but at the moment she didn't care. She was far more interested in the hard cock pressed into her ass.
"I left them all to die," he continued as his hands reached forward to rip her blouse open.
She gasped as one hand reached inside her bra to tease her nipple.
"How. . ?" she moaned as his other hand began to fumble with her skirts. "How did they die?"
"Shut up," he barked, although his voice trembled with guilt.
She obeyed, not because she had to, she knew that after half a century feeding on rats, she would be stronger than him, but because she missed this, she missed him. There was no one other than Angelus that she would submit to, let dominate her. And if he wasn't truly her boy, he was close enough.
And then she stopped worrying completely as two of his fingers thrust into her. Her fingers gripped the brick of the wall, causing bits of it to crumble away as he began to thrust in and out of her pussy.
He knew how to touch her like no one else, and he hadn't forgotten any of it since China. His fingers worked her pussy, as his thumb moved in familiar patterns over her clit. Before she knew it she was crying out to him, begging him for more. She was just on the verge of her orgasm when he pulled his fingers out and took a small step back.
She whirled around, her eyes glinting gold, only to see him pulling his cock out of his pants. She snapped apart the front of her bra, leaving her breast bare to his eyes, knowing how much he loved her looking disheveled.
She was greeted by a look of pure lust in his eyes, and then everything went blank as the thick head of his cock pushed deep inside her. By the time she had come down and regained some of her senses, he was pumping in and out of her in a delightful rhythm.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, and with every thrust her weight bore her clit down on his pelvic bone, sending a new set of sparks through her body.
She could hear him grunting with pleasure, but his face was pressed against her shoulder. And that's when she knew, she knew how to get him back, how to make him hers again.
Her hand reached up to tear away at the chiffon scarf around her neck, and she tilted her head to offer it to him.
"Drink," she told him. "Drink baby, and it'll be all right. I'll make it better, all you have to do is drink."
But instead of sinking his fangs into her neck he buried his face deeper in her shoulder and started thrusting harder.
Her nails clawed at his back, tearing at the thin fabric of his shirt to get to the tender flesh underneath. She let the scent of his own blood fill the air, hoping that would tempt him to taste hers.
She almost thought she could hear him whimper but his resolve remained firm. Instead he concentrated on brining her off one final time, following her over the edge as both their bodies convulsed with passion.
When they were still, he held her for a moment, and then backed away, refusing to look her in the eyes.
She ran one of her nails across her chest, letting the blood run down her breasts the way it had the night she'd turned him. He backed fruther away and she offered her fingers coated with the few drops of blood to him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he continued to retreat. "I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry."
He looked up for just a moment, and their eyes met. She could only wonder how such a little think as a soul could fill her beautiful boy with such shame. He turned and ran from her.
"Angelus?" she called after him. "Angel?" she said more weakly. "Come back. . ." she whispered in the darkness.
When she finally admitted to herself that he wasn't coming back she pulled her blouse shut, and headed back to the apartment she acquired that night to get her things. There was no point in staying in L.A. the city had nothing else to offer her.
The End
jos_las. For some reason they both ended up being about Angel.The genre for the first one was dark and it's set during the episode "Angel"
It shouldn't have been difficult, waiting. He was good at waiting, he was a predator, he was patient. But spending the day in Buffy's room, waiting for her to come back, or for the sun to go down was driving him a little crazy.
Maybe it was her scent? It was intoxicating to Angel the man, but also aggravating to the demon inside. The demon she didn't even know she'd invited into her home the night before.
It made him cringe to think about it because it had been so easy for him, a vampire, to gain entrance into the Slayer's house. How many times had he tricked a victim into inviting him in? He knew a hundred ways to get someone to issue those magic words that would take down the barrier that kept his kind from killing anyone they wished.
But he was different now. He had the soul. He wasn't going to hurt Buffy. He was here to help her.
The sound of an approaching heart beat sent him back into the closet to hide.
"Buffy?" a young girl's voice called out.
Her sister Angel thought.
"Score!" Dawn said as she realized that Buffy wasn't home from school yet.
Through the slats of the closet door Angel could just make out the silhouette of the child as she ran over to her big sister's dresser and began riffling through Buffy's jewelry box. He could see little more than long light brown hair.
Just like Kathy's.
The thought made his stomach clench. He didn't think about Kathy. Sweet innocent Kathy, who'd invited him in.
"Liam!" her screams ripped though the air. "Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it," she cried over and over again. But Angelus didn't stop. He tossed aside his mother's body as he turned towards his sister.
Angel's hands rose to his ears, as if he could block out the screams from hundreds of years ago. He could smell his sister's terror as she saw what had come back from her brother's grave. And her screams went on and on and on. No matter what he did, he could never block out his sister's screams. He could never get away from them.
Kill her, the demon whispered. They stop screaming if you snap their necks. So thin, and brittle. She won't ever even know you're here. Not until she feels your fingers around her neck. Snap it! Drink! She's young and tender and sweet, and it's been so long. If you kill her, she'll stop screaming. They always stop when you kill them.
Angel's hand was on the closet door when he heard an actual scream.
"Dawn! I've told you don't come in my room!" and angry Buffy yelled from the hallway.
Angel's hand snapped back. He realized all of a sudden that he'd let his features slip into that of the demon. He closed his eyes and shut off his lungs to keep himself from breathing in the Slayer's scent, and slowly he shoved the demon back down where it belonged. He couldn't let Buffy see him like this. She would never understand. And Angel would do anything to keep her from knowing what it was he was truly capable of.
The End
And the genre for this one was PwP. I don't have a name for it but it's set right after the 50's flashback sequence in "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?"
Darla licked the last stray drop of blood from the corner of her mouth as she exited the apartment building. Now that she had gotten herself a place to stay during her excursion to Los Angeles, it was time to have some fun. There was no where else on earth where you could sup on young hopeful dreams like you could in Hollywood. And maybe she would find just the right young man to take back with her to Sunnydale and keep her entertained while her brethren tried to free the Master.
She was so rapt up in her hopes for the night's perversions, that she didn't notice she wasn't alone until she was pushed into the alley and her cheek rubbed up against a brick wall.
There was no mistaking the feel of the hard body that was pressed against her back. She knew it as well as her own.
"Angelus?" she asked. Her whole being was suddenly alert. She didn't know how she'd missed his presence, but now her every sense was aware of it. He didn't smell like rat, instead fear and despair clung to him. That, and the rough way he was treating her, gave her hope that her boy was finally back.
His hands roamed up and down her body, learning her curves as if she were a new conquest, not a woman he'd fucked for over a century, and the thought of having him back was making her wet.
"You'd have been proud," came his corse reply. The emotion in his voice told a different story. The soul was still there, but at the moment she didn't care. She was far more interested in the hard cock pressed into her ass.
"I left them all to die," he continued as his hands reached forward to rip her blouse open.
She gasped as one hand reached inside her bra to tease her nipple.
"How. . ?" she moaned as his other hand began to fumble with her skirts. "How did they die?"
"Shut up," he barked, although his voice trembled with guilt.
She obeyed, not because she had to, she knew that after half a century feeding on rats, she would be stronger than him, but because she missed this, she missed him. There was no one other than Angelus that she would submit to, let dominate her. And if he wasn't truly her boy, he was close enough.
And then she stopped worrying completely as two of his fingers thrust into her. Her fingers gripped the brick of the wall, causing bits of it to crumble away as he began to thrust in and out of her pussy.
He knew how to touch her like no one else, and he hadn't forgotten any of it since China. His fingers worked her pussy, as his thumb moved in familiar patterns over her clit. Before she knew it she was crying out to him, begging him for more. She was just on the verge of her orgasm when he pulled his fingers out and took a small step back.
She whirled around, her eyes glinting gold, only to see him pulling his cock out of his pants. She snapped apart the front of her bra, leaving her breast bare to his eyes, knowing how much he loved her looking disheveled.
She was greeted by a look of pure lust in his eyes, and then everything went blank as the thick head of his cock pushed deep inside her. By the time she had come down and regained some of her senses, he was pumping in and out of her in a delightful rhythm.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, and with every thrust her weight bore her clit down on his pelvic bone, sending a new set of sparks through her body.
She could hear him grunting with pleasure, but his face was pressed against her shoulder. And that's when she knew, she knew how to get him back, how to make him hers again.
Her hand reached up to tear away at the chiffon scarf around her neck, and she tilted her head to offer it to him.
"Drink," she told him. "Drink baby, and it'll be all right. I'll make it better, all you have to do is drink."
But instead of sinking his fangs into her neck he buried his face deeper in her shoulder and started thrusting harder.
Her nails clawed at his back, tearing at the thin fabric of his shirt to get to the tender flesh underneath. She let the scent of his own blood fill the air, hoping that would tempt him to taste hers.
She almost thought she could hear him whimper but his resolve remained firm. Instead he concentrated on brining her off one final time, following her over the edge as both their bodies convulsed with passion.
When they were still, he held her for a moment, and then backed away, refusing to look her in the eyes.
She ran one of her nails across her chest, letting the blood run down her breasts the way it had the night she'd turned him. He backed fruther away and she offered her fingers coated with the few drops of blood to him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he continued to retreat. "I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry."
He looked up for just a moment, and their eyes met. She could only wonder how such a little think as a soul could fill her beautiful boy with such shame. He turned and ran from her.
"Angelus?" she called after him. "Angel?" she said more weakly. "Come back. . ." she whispered in the darkness.
When she finally admitted to herself that he wasn't coming back she pulled her blouse shut, and headed back to the apartment she acquired that night to get her things. There was no point in staying in L.A. the city had nothing else to offer her.
The End
