The Soulmate Series
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Willow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
49
Views:
10,096
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Willow
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
49
Views:
10,096
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Guilty Pleasure, Guilty Pain
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.
Guilty Pleasure, Guilty Pain
Angel is inside her.
That’s the only thing that Willow can understand right now. Everything else is terrifying and confusing. So she tries to shut her thoughts down, just as she did when Angel’s presence inside of her brought pain and fear, instead of the intense pleasure that is just as frightening as the agony right now. But she can’t, and her mind continues its frantic attempts to make sense of what is happening between her and Angel.
She can feel him, both inside her body and her mind, the connection between their souls creating sensations she’d never imagined feeling. Things she’s never felt when Oz touched her, even though she loves him and had always intended for him to be her first lover.
Lovers. Is that what she and Angel are now? She doesn’t love him, no matter what connection her well-intentioned soul restoration spell has created between them. Even as her body responds enthusiastically to Angel’s touch and her mind is overwhelmed by the feelings engendered by the connection to his soul, she still loves Oz. And she doesn’t understand why Angel claims to love her. Why doesn’t he remember that Buffy is the one he loves? Perhaps it’s because of his time in Hell.
Nothing makes sense, nothing except the feel of Angel’s cock as he thrusts into her shamefully welcoming body, the weight of him pressing against her, and the feel of his fingers on her clitoris, building an unbearable ache within her, a need for something only Angel can give her.
Yet buried within all this want and sexual fervor is anguish and self-hate. Willow can see Oz’s face in her mind, even as she looks into Angel’s eyes, and the guilt that vision brings is overpowering. She knows that none of this is her fault. Even now, as she teeters on the edge of ecstatic release, her channel grasping Angel’s cock within her as if it belongs there, she knows that, in a way, this is no less rape than the brutal assault that had been her first encounter with the dark-haired vampire who claims her as his own. She never chose him, never wanted to be his. And it’s not her fault that he has used the connection of their souls to break down her body’s ability to resist his advances. But she still feels unbearable anguish. She’s enjoying this, reveling in it, at least physically, and that’s wrong to her in every possible way.
She wishes with all her heart that she could stop herself from achieving release once more at Angel’s hands, but even as she attempts to stave off her orgasm, she knows her efforts are in vain. Soon, just as she fears, her body betrays her with brutal intensity, exploding in glorious ecstasy, as Willow closes her eyes, trying to hold back the shame-filled tears that spill from behind her eyelids.
At the same time, she hears Angel roar his own release and bury his fangs in her neck. It is ironic that the knowledge that he isn’t going to drain her, filtering to her through the bond, isn’t the comfort that it should be. Willow’s never been one to think of death as a way out, but a part of her feels that anything that takes her out of her current situation might be a blessing, even death. But it’s not going to happen, at least not now. Angel’s fangs in her neck are there to mark her, not murder her, and he soon withdraws them, lapping tenderly at the wound he’s created as he pulls out of her body and draws her into his cool embrace.
At first, as he lays beside her, his arms binding her to him like chains, she can hear him purring contentedly. But then it stops. She feels confusion from him again. She knows she’s not feeling what he expects her to, and she knows that’s upsetting to him. But right now, she doesn’t care. Right now, all she knows is that she hates him, hates herself, and is too tired and anguished to deal with any of this. All she really wants is to go home and cry. Alone. But there’s no chance of that. So she seeks the only refuge there is, and draws away from the vampire holding her in his arms into the comforting abyss of sleep.
Tbc...
Guilty Pleasure, Guilty Pain
Angel is inside her.
That’s the only thing that Willow can understand right now. Everything else is terrifying and confusing. So she tries to shut her thoughts down, just as she did when Angel’s presence inside of her brought pain and fear, instead of the intense pleasure that is just as frightening as the agony right now. But she can’t, and her mind continues its frantic attempts to make sense of what is happening between her and Angel.
She can feel him, both inside her body and her mind, the connection between their souls creating sensations she’d never imagined feeling. Things she’s never felt when Oz touched her, even though she loves him and had always intended for him to be her first lover.
Lovers. Is that what she and Angel are now? She doesn’t love him, no matter what connection her well-intentioned soul restoration spell has created between them. Even as her body responds enthusiastically to Angel’s touch and her mind is overwhelmed by the feelings engendered by the connection to his soul, she still loves Oz. And she doesn’t understand why Angel claims to love her. Why doesn’t he remember that Buffy is the one he loves? Perhaps it’s because of his time in Hell.
Nothing makes sense, nothing except the feel of Angel’s cock as he thrusts into her shamefully welcoming body, the weight of him pressing against her, and the feel of his fingers on her clitoris, building an unbearable ache within her, a need for something only Angel can give her.
Yet buried within all this want and sexual fervor is anguish and self-hate. Willow can see Oz’s face in her mind, even as she looks into Angel’s eyes, and the guilt that vision brings is overpowering. She knows that none of this is her fault. Even now, as she teeters on the edge of ecstatic release, her channel grasping Angel’s cock within her as if it belongs there, she knows that, in a way, this is no less rape than the brutal assault that had been her first encounter with the dark-haired vampire who claims her as his own. She never chose him, never wanted to be his. And it’s not her fault that he has used the connection of their souls to break down her body’s ability to resist his advances. But she still feels unbearable anguish. She’s enjoying this, reveling in it, at least physically, and that’s wrong to her in every possible way.
She wishes with all her heart that she could stop herself from achieving release once more at Angel’s hands, but even as she attempts to stave off her orgasm, she knows her efforts are in vain. Soon, just as she fears, her body betrays her with brutal intensity, exploding in glorious ecstasy, as Willow closes her eyes, trying to hold back the shame-filled tears that spill from behind her eyelids.
At the same time, she hears Angel roar his own release and bury his fangs in her neck. It is ironic that the knowledge that he isn’t going to drain her, filtering to her through the bond, isn’t the comfort that it should be. Willow’s never been one to think of death as a way out, but a part of her feels that anything that takes her out of her current situation might be a blessing, even death. But it’s not going to happen, at least not now. Angel’s fangs in her neck are there to mark her, not murder her, and he soon withdraws them, lapping tenderly at the wound he’s created as he pulls out of her body and draws her into his cool embrace.
At first, as he lays beside her, his arms binding her to him like chains, she can hear him purring contentedly. But then it stops. She feels confusion from him again. She knows she’s not feeling what he expects her to, and she knows that’s upsetting to him. But right now, she doesn’t care. Right now, all she knows is that she hates him, hates herself, and is too tired and anguished to deal with any of this. All she really wants is to go home and cry. Alone. But there’s no chance of that. So she seeks the only refuge there is, and draws away from the vampire holding her in his arms into the comforting abyss of sleep.
Tbc...