Title: Dream It, And the Heart Will Follow
Author: Onlyanne aka anneb
Rating: NC-17(a real warning)
Spoilers: After all the Darla stuff, but no trip to Pylea. And no Buffy dying.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made. Also, any info that Cordelia may spout about dreams, didn’t come from a book, but the Dream Catcher website……(cool site)
Distribution: Please ask
Feedback:is requested, please- okay, big fat beg…
Cordelia could feel the cool hands teasing at her flesh. The strong fingertips massaging into her skin, swirling into her pleasure points. Cordelia had no idea she had so many.
She squirmed further into mattress, her legs and arms thrown wide to give the hands greater access. Cordelia’s breathing became rough as she felt something wet and moist lapping at her center. Then the tongue moved, trailing up her body, tenderizing the flesh around her neck. A silent scream caught in her chest as the most incredible sensation shot through her body.
Her nerves exploded, short circuiting her brain causing her mind and body to shut down. Cordelia’s shallow breaths became stronger as her body restarted itself. Cordelia gasped out loud and awoke.
Cordelia’s eyes were drawn to the empty space next to her on the bed. Why did she even bother to look? Angel wasn’t there. He was never there and never would be. No, he was just in her dreams; torturing and tantalizing her body, doing things that she didn’t even know were possible. Cordelia groaned and flipped over on the bed, punching at the pillow in frustration. She didn’t understand why this kept happening. And that last dream, it had been way too intense. This was getting out of hand.
The first dream had occurred the night before her birthday. She had been thinking about Angel and wondering whether he would remember the event not.
Earlier that day, actually the whole prior week, Cordelia had resisted the urge to leave major hints. No, she had wanted to see if he would remember on his own.
So, that night before her birthday, she had gone to bed, planing her revenge if Angel did forget. Then came the dream. Angel touching her, loving her. She had woken up, flushed, satisfied and freaked.
But she had managed to calm her self down, rationalizing that the dream meant nothing more than her desire for Angel to do something nice for her on her birthday. Granted, she had been thinking more on the lines of a nice dinner or sweater from the vampire, not the ultimate orgasm. But that could have been just because she was sexually frustrated, after all she hasn’t had sex since that Wilson debacle. And she did see Angel every day, he was hot, and she had been thinking about him before she went to sleep. Maybe it wasn’t that unusual that he appeared in her dream.
So, Cordelia had gone to work, deciding that it was time for her to rejoin the dating world. Of course, the first time she caught a glimpse of Angel she was a little embarrassed. The dream had been pretty lurid. But, she calmed herself and smiled brightly at the vampire.
After all, Angel didn’t know what she had dreamed. Now that would’ve been embarrassing. And she decided that she wouldn’t say anything about the missed birthday. She just didn’t want to be reminded of the dream.
That had been three weeks ago and she had that same dream every night. Well substantially the same dream, each starred Angel and in each he was touching, kissing, and manipulating her body to ecstasy. And each morning she would wake up feeling wonderful for about a second, before she realized that she had been dreaming and remembered who and what she had been dreaming of.
Cordelia groaned again and reached over into her bedside table. She pulled out a notebook and pen. As the dreams had progressed in frequency and intensity, Cordelia had resorted to researching dream interpretation. All that she read suggested that she should write down the contents of each dream. So, that she could remember them and try to find their meaning. She glanced through the numerous scribbled pages to find a new page. She grumbled as she started to write.
Cordelia didn’t know why she kept doing this. It wasn’t like she couldn’t remember each and everything Angel did to her in the dreams. It was plaguing her. She could barely look at Angel without her face turning beet red. Every time he moved or picked up some thing, she found herself staring at his body, his hands, reliving what his dream self had done to her the night before.
Cordelia had even tried masturbating before she fell asleep, imagining every sexy actor or handsome man she had ever seen, anybody but Angel. Hoping that if she gave herself pleasure, then she wouldn’t need the dream Angel to show up to cure what sexual frustration that she must be experiencing. But she stopped after the first couple of times.
It hadn’t worked. As soon as she fell asleep, Angel appeared. Doing things, making her feel things that only mocked at the pleasure she had given herself.
And the interpretation stuff was just nonsense. All she got out of that was that sex dreams could mean almost anything. They could be in compensation for a lack of sex in daily life. Well, duh, that wasn’t a hard one to figure out.
Or they could be about power, control and manipulation. She didn’t get that part, unless that fell under the heading of the dream where Angel had tied her to the bed and did amazingly delicious things to her. Cordelia hadn’t been able to look at Angel all the next day at work after that dream. Another interpretation was that it was a wish fulfillment or a memory.
No. She didn’t want to have a sexual relationship with Angel; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. And it sure in hell wasn’t a memory. No one had ever touched her like her dream Angel did. No one definitely hadn’t tied her up or sucked her blood while creating the most exquisite pleasure throughout her body. Oh god, Cordelia’s eyes widened as she read what she wrote, Angel had fed off her in her dream. And she liked it. Cordelia shrieked out loud, that was just sick.
This had to stop. Self-pleasuring hadn’t worked, she would just have to go find someone hotter than Angel, someone who could give her as much, no more pleasure than Angel, someone that wouldn’t bite her. Someone to stop her dreams. Cordelia looked again at what she wrote, she grumbled and threw the notebook on the floor. Cordelia wasn’t at all sure that such a person existed. Blood-sucker or not.
She couldn’t go to work today. She just couldn’t. There was no way she would be able to face Angel.
The gym. She would go to the gym. There were always hot guys there. She would find one.
“Where’s Cordy,” Angel asked Wesley.
Wesley looked up from his books. “She’s not coming in today. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“What do you mean not feeling well?”
“I mean not well as in not being well,” Wesley said returning to his books.
“Is she sick, how sick? As in vision sick? Is she hurt? What’s wrong with her?” Angel demanded.
Wesley sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face. He had hoped that he could get through the tomes today. He had thought he had an excellent opportunity, with Cordelia staying home. The young woman had been acting all nervous and jittery lately. It was very distracting.
Especially, when every time, she acted fidgety, Angel got fidgety. Definitely making the atmosphere in the hotel tense and nonconducive to quality research. But, it seemed that Cordelia being absent was not having the calming effect, he had hoped for, Wesley thought, noting the vampire’s anxiety.
“Angel, Cordelia said she was just a little under the weather. Tired. Cordelia contemplated that she may be getting a cold. A cold, Angel, not any type of fatal or painful calamity. If it makes you feel better, call her, let her tell you.”
Angel nodded. He would call Cordelia. It’s not that he didn’t trust Wesley. But sometimes, Angel thought that Wesley didn’t fully appreciate delicate nature of his seer and the effects that her visions had on Cordelia. Besides he wanted to hear her voice.
Angel waited as Cordelia’s phone rang and rang. Finally, he heard the phone pick up. “Cordelia,” he started, then stopped as her answering machine babbled on it’s greeting. Frustrated, Angel waited for the beep. “Cordy, Um, Wesley says you’re not feeling well. Do you need anything? What’s wrong with you? Oh, this is Angel. Call us if you need anything” Angel hung up the phone.
“She didn’t answer.” His tone accusatory, somehow blaming Wesley.
“She is probably at the drugstore.” Wesley reasoned.
“She shouldn’t be out if she is not feeling well.”
“Of course, she is probably just asleep.” Wesley corrected, rolling his eyes at the vampire.
“Right,” Angel went back to the phone.
“Angel, what are you doing?”
“If Cordelia is sleeping, then she’ll answer.” He picked up the phone again.
“Angel, if she is sleeping, then it is because she needs to sleep,” Wesley emphized. “Cordelia doesn’t need to be awoken just for you to tell her that she needs to sleep,” he chided.
Angel wanted to argue, but Wesley was right. Angel hung up the phone. And paced. “What are you researching, do you need any help?” Angel asked hopefully. He was restless, he needed something to do other than think about Cordelia. Angel wished that there was a demon to kill. But it had been pretty quiet lately.
“I’m researching the hupnos demon.”
“The demon that liked to put people to sleep before it ate them?” Angel questioned. “Why? That was more than a couple months ago and I thought you were satisfied that its ability was similar to that of an animal’s that paralyzed their victims before killing them. Anyway, we killed it.”
“Yes, but after further reflection, I feel I may have jumped to hastily to that simplistic conclusion. The victims we found, the live ones, of course, were more in a trance state than one of paralysis. There is a distinction. So, “ Wesley picked up the book.
Angel took the book, Wesley was holding. “This isn’t a text on demonology. It’s ancient Greek…..Mythology.”
“Yes, well, I may have gotten a little sidetracked.” Wesley confessed, grabbing the book back.
“A little,” Angel raised his brows, a small smile appearing on his face.
“The hypnotic aspects of the demon’s ability, is somewhat related to the mythological abilities of Morpheus,” Wesley justified.
“One of the sons of the sleep god. His abilities were geared more to dreams, rather…….”
“Dreams?” Angel questioned, not listening to the rest of Wesley’s statement. “Dreams,” Angel repeated his mind no longer on the former watcher or his research. Angel wandered towards the stairs.
“Angel?” Wesley called after him, annoyed at the retreating vampire. Angel was being rude.
“I’m going upstairs. Um, if…….if Cordelia calls.” Angel added, going up the stairs.
“I’ll let you know,” Wesley shook his head. Both the vampire and Cordelia were acting strangely of late. But, their behavior didn’t seem to be dangerous or of the evil nature, so he wouldn’t be concerned. Wesley turned back to his text on the spells and dreams of Morpheus.
Wesley was quite excited as far as he could tell the tome was authentic. Written thousands and thousands of years ago by true Greek scholars. Wesley had already managed to translate one of the spells. It was very interesting. And it was amazing that Wesley had found it hidden in that old bookstore.
Angel sat in the chair by his bed. He pulled out his sketchpad and with several broad strokes, the picture was complete. The finished drawing joined a stack of sketches he had done over the last few weeks.
His hands quickly pulled at another clean page, moving and creating a new picture.