In A Not Too Distant Future
folder
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Buffy
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,261
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Buffy
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,261
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Epilogue
Epilogue
So where will this end
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around
I know that it won't stop
Til I step down from this for good
I never thought I'd end up here
Never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kinda thought that it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more time
Sick Cycle Carousel by Lifehouse
When Angelus returned to his bedroom, he found Buffy curled into a ball on one side of the bed. Her breathing steady and even, he could tell she was asleep. It was clear that she was angry and hurt with him, that she didn't want him to touch her. Shaking his head at her futile attempts, he disrobed and climbed into the bed. He drew her tiny body close, wrapping his arms around her in a confining embrace. She would be angry when she woke up, but he would deal with that when it happened, and not before. He let his eyes drift shut.
He woke to someone kicking and thrashing against him. Opening his eyes, he saw Buffy in the throws of yet another nightmare. She was screaming and fighting, and if he didn't know better, he'd assume she was awake and pissed at him. But her eyes were screwed shut, and her body was far too lax for her to be awake. Her movements were wild, uncontrolled. Angelus pulled her tighter against him until she stilled. Then her eyes shot open with an audiable gasp. She pushed away from, am, and he allowed it.
"Leave me alone," she muttered, crawling to the side of the bed farthest from him.
"You going to sulk?" he commented, raising an eyebrow.
"Sulking would imply pouting, I'm angry," she corrected.
"And wouldn't angry imply that you're going to give me the silent treatment?" Angelus smirked. Buffy grunted and turned away from him, pulling the edge of the coverlet with her. "I guess that means I'm right then?" She didn't respond to that barb either.
*
For several minutes after Angelus left the main hall, Tanith sat stunned on the cold marble floor. When she finally collected her enraged mind, she picked her nude body up off of the floor and made her way back to the room she shared with Nahara. She pulled an outfit off of a hanger in her closet and slipped it on. Usually she would've taken painstaking hours to make sure she looked her best to please the master. Now all she cared about was putting his human bitch into the ground and making sure she stayed that way.
How dare he? How could he just use her and throw her to the ground like she didn't mean anything. She was his childe, for christsake. There was supposed to be some mystical bond between them, he was supposed to love her, not some blonde tramp who just happened to be a white hat at the same time he had been. Especially not since the demon was back in charge and he was ruling Sunnydale.
That Slayer whore was going to pay for taking her master away. She was going to pay with her life. And Tanith would be the one to take it, smiling as she wrung the last breath out of scrawny little body. She would take great pleasure in destroying that filthy little do gooder. And she would do it soon or loose her marbles from loathing the girl so much. She sighed as she gave herself a once over, and smoothed her white demask dress before walking out the door. There was some club in town called 'The Bronze' where a few of the fledglings were going to gather tonight for a little feast and music. She was hoping to inlist a few for help.
The night was dark, the new moon overhead declining to shine her rays. She made her way to the club using directions she'd obtained from some imbicile tourist out for a night run, he'd tasted a little bitter going down, but left a great aftertaste. Starting tonight, the Slayer's days were numbered.
*
He was loosing patience with Buffy's attitude rapidly, the last of his good will was fading away until he snapped. Angelus lunged foward on the bed and forcibly pushed his lips against hers, roughly tasting her mouth with his tongue. Hungrily he feasted upon her body, worshiping it like a holy man at an alter. She moaned and whimpered as he kept up his assault of pleasure. Her head thrashed about on the feather pillow.
"I hate you," she grumbled, even as he lowered her back onto the mattress.
"Whatever," he retorted, his large hands parting her thighs.
Buffy's neck arched in a silent scream as he drove himself inside her body to the very hilt. No matter how many times they completed this union, danced this dance, she would never get used to this feeling. It was utter completeness, like a part of her had been missing for years that she didn't even know about. And it came home each and every time she lay with Angel. The soul didn't matter, it was something mystical that this being possessed that she craved. If it took the demon's total lack of inhibitions for it to happen, so be it.
She wasn't startled, when his human contenance lapsed, and the harsh ridges and sharp fangs of his vampiric person burst forth. It wouldn't be the first time, and she knew it was far from the last. He'd explained the intense feelings trigger behind the whole thing years ago. But when he lunged for the juncture of her throat and shoulder, she was a very surprised. He tried very hard to keep blood play out of their sexual relationship, citing that it would be too much of a temptation. The pain of his razor sharp fangs slicing through her soft skin like a knife through hot butter was almost unbearable.
Oddly enough, she found the sensation of him drawing blood from her veins highly erotic, and embarrassingly discovered herself becoming quite hot from the process. When she felt faint and he still showed no signs of stopping, she began to panick. He was finally doing it, he was going to kill her...
The world around them was fuzzy when he finally pulled back. She felt something warm sliding down her throat, and instantly realized what it was. The Slayer in her began to fight him, to try and stop him from doing this to her. But she felt him force her down, ripping her jaw open and bleeding himself down her throat. She could feel her heartbeat slowing down, and tears formed in her eyes. She was really dying, and he was going to drag her back yet again.
And the room faded to an emotionless black...
So where will this end
It goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around
I know that it won't stop
Til I step down from this for good
I never thought I'd end up here
Never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kinda thought that it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more time
Sick Cycle Carousel by Lifehouse
When Angelus returned to his bedroom, he found Buffy curled into a ball on one side of the bed. Her breathing steady and even, he could tell she was asleep. It was clear that she was angry and hurt with him, that she didn't want him to touch her. Shaking his head at her futile attempts, he disrobed and climbed into the bed. He drew her tiny body close, wrapping his arms around her in a confining embrace. She would be angry when she woke up, but he would deal with that when it happened, and not before. He let his eyes drift shut.
He woke to someone kicking and thrashing against him. Opening his eyes, he saw Buffy in the throws of yet another nightmare. She was screaming and fighting, and if he didn't know better, he'd assume she was awake and pissed at him. But her eyes were screwed shut, and her body was far too lax for her to be awake. Her movements were wild, uncontrolled. Angelus pulled her tighter against him until she stilled. Then her eyes shot open with an audiable gasp. She pushed away from, am, and he allowed it.
"Leave me alone," she muttered, crawling to the side of the bed farthest from him.
"You going to sulk?" he commented, raising an eyebrow.
"Sulking would imply pouting, I'm angry," she corrected.
"And wouldn't angry imply that you're going to give me the silent treatment?" Angelus smirked. Buffy grunted and turned away from him, pulling the edge of the coverlet with her. "I guess that means I'm right then?" She didn't respond to that barb either.
*
For several minutes after Angelus left the main hall, Tanith sat stunned on the cold marble floor. When she finally collected her enraged mind, she picked her nude body up off of the floor and made her way back to the room she shared with Nahara. She pulled an outfit off of a hanger in her closet and slipped it on. Usually she would've taken painstaking hours to make sure she looked her best to please the master. Now all she cared about was putting his human bitch into the ground and making sure she stayed that way.
How dare he? How could he just use her and throw her to the ground like she didn't mean anything. She was his childe, for christsake. There was supposed to be some mystical bond between them, he was supposed to love her, not some blonde tramp who just happened to be a white hat at the same time he had been. Especially not since the demon was back in charge and he was ruling Sunnydale.
That Slayer whore was going to pay for taking her master away. She was going to pay with her life. And Tanith would be the one to take it, smiling as she wrung the last breath out of scrawny little body. She would take great pleasure in destroying that filthy little do gooder. And she would do it soon or loose her marbles from loathing the girl so much. She sighed as she gave herself a once over, and smoothed her white demask dress before walking out the door. There was some club in town called 'The Bronze' where a few of the fledglings were going to gather tonight for a little feast and music. She was hoping to inlist a few for help.
The night was dark, the new moon overhead declining to shine her rays. She made her way to the club using directions she'd obtained from some imbicile tourist out for a night run, he'd tasted a little bitter going down, but left a great aftertaste. Starting tonight, the Slayer's days were numbered.
*
He was loosing patience with Buffy's attitude rapidly, the last of his good will was fading away until he snapped. Angelus lunged foward on the bed and forcibly pushed his lips against hers, roughly tasting her mouth with his tongue. Hungrily he feasted upon her body, worshiping it like a holy man at an alter. She moaned and whimpered as he kept up his assault of pleasure. Her head thrashed about on the feather pillow.
"I hate you," she grumbled, even as he lowered her back onto the mattress.
"Whatever," he retorted, his large hands parting her thighs.
Buffy's neck arched in a silent scream as he drove himself inside her body to the very hilt. No matter how many times they completed this union, danced this dance, she would never get used to this feeling. It was utter completeness, like a part of her had been missing for years that she didn't even know about. And it came home each and every time she lay with Angel. The soul didn't matter, it was something mystical that this being possessed that she craved. If it took the demon's total lack of inhibitions for it to happen, so be it.
She wasn't startled, when his human contenance lapsed, and the harsh ridges and sharp fangs of his vampiric person burst forth. It wouldn't be the first time, and she knew it was far from the last. He'd explained the intense feelings trigger behind the whole thing years ago. But when he lunged for the juncture of her throat and shoulder, she was a very surprised. He tried very hard to keep blood play out of their sexual relationship, citing that it would be too much of a temptation. The pain of his razor sharp fangs slicing through her soft skin like a knife through hot butter was almost unbearable.
Oddly enough, she found the sensation of him drawing blood from her veins highly erotic, and embarrassingly discovered herself becoming quite hot from the process. When she felt faint and he still showed no signs of stopping, she began to panick. He was finally doing it, he was going to kill her...
The world around them was fuzzy when he finally pulled back. She felt something warm sliding down her throat, and instantly realized what it was. The Slayer in her began to fight him, to try and stop him from doing this to her. But she felt him force her down, ripping her jaw open and bleeding himself down her throat. She could feel her heartbeat slowing down, and tears formed in her eyes. She was really dying, and he was going to drag her back yet again.
And the room faded to an emotionless black...