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Fwd: [Dylan_Femslash] Fic: Fight...NC17 F/B (1/1)

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  • Desirata43@aol.com
    this is almost eerie.... For my girl, as requested by her. Just a little something. Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, unfortunately. They are
    Message 1 of 2 , Nov 17, 2006
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      this is almost eerie....
    • Dylan
      O_o Ahem...I don t think I gave anybody permission to throw this onto other groups. This is a little weird. Somebody needs bending over ;) Dylan
      Message 2 of 2 , Sep 26, 2007
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        Ahem...I don't think I gave anybody permission to throw this onto
        other groups. This is a little weird. Somebody needs bending over ;)



        --- In Beta_Unlimited@yahoogroups.com, Desirata43@... wrote:
        > this is almost eerie....
        > For my girl, as requested by her. Just a little something.
        > Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, unfortunately.
        > They are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and whoever
        > the hell else owns them. I make no profit from this.
        > Fight
        > by
        > Dylan
        > She gets me so fucking angry I wanna throw stuff, and break stuff, and
        > scream until my lungs are raw. Nobody else has ever gotten me so mad.
        > It only takes one word from her, one push and I'm tearing at my hair
        > and climbing the walls.
        > She doesn't get it though, and gets all judgmental and snooty, like I
        > can't have feelings. I'm not allowed get pissed off when she tries to
        > make me change who I am. I have to nod and listen and go along with
        > everything she says, but some days I don't wanna do that. I've never
        > listened to anybody my whole fucking life. I've always done what I
        > wanted, when I wanted. She gets it fucking easier than she'll ever know.
        > I could just get up and walk away forever sometimes, just to keep my
        > sanity, but in reality. . .I know I could never do that. I get to the
        > street, then feel completely lost without her. I just wanna fall to
        > the floor and cry my heart out, cause I need her, and it hurts so much
        > to need like that.
        > Today, it's another day that she's telling me to go to college, to get
        > myself an `education'. I don't get it. . .I don't see the point and
        > don't wanna waste my time on crap like that when I could be dead by
        > the end of the night from some lucky vamp or demon.
        > She tells me I should have more pride in myself. That I'm smart and
        > should use it. Fuck. . .I do use it, every fucking night. I'm still
        > alive cause I use it. I don't wanna go spend my days sat in a stuffy
        > classroom, reading shit I don't care about, just to `fit in' with what
        > society thinks I should do.
        > I never spent much time at school, and I'm not about to start now. .
        > .so we fight. We yell, I storm off, and she gets wicked pissed off at
        > me for leaving, while I'm pissed off at her for pushing me into doing
        > what I don't want to.
        > It's like a never ending roundabout, where we're clinging on cause we
        > can't let go, but it's driving us insane at the same time.
        > This is us though. This is me and Buffy. We love so much that we hurt
        > each other with it when we don't need to. It's hard loving and needing
        > and wanting that much. It's hard to compromise. It's hard to take a
        > step back. It's hard to not cling so much you're suffocating each
        > I'm sat outside the house right now, waiting for my fists to unclench,
        > waiting for my lungs to stop burning, my heart to stop pounding. Once
        > the pounding settles, that's when the ache begins. I know at that
        > point that I can't stay outside much longer and not break down. I
        > can't be away from her, not knowing what she's doing, how she is. .
        > .for too long. My heart needs her. I need her.
        > * * *
        > Faith is sat out there right now in the cold night air, I can see her
        > by the tree, sat on the grass with tears streaming down her face. I
        > want to go out there and hold her, but it's my fault she's like that.
        > I did it. I push when I know I shouldn't. I ask when I know the answer
        > already. I wish I could stop myself, but it seems we're always stuck
        > in the same loop. . .and I don't know how many more times we can do
        > How much longer is she going to put up with me? How many more times
        > can I drive her out of the house in a rage?
        > I try to hold back and not say the wrong thing, but she gets so
        > sensitive when she thinks she's being told what to do. She jumps on
        > the defensive when all I want to do is help her, give her advice or
        > encouragement. I always get it wrong.
        > I'll stay in here, crying too. My heart so swollen with love for her
        > that I can't feel it beat unless she's near. Unless I know we're safe.
        > I worry that we're not, though. I worry that I'm gonna screw it up
        > because I can't keep my mouth shut and just let her be who she is.
        > I fell madly in love with who she is, so I don't even know why I want
        > to change that. Why I want to make her see more in herself. Maybe
        > because I see it, and I want to share it. I can't force her to do
        > that, though. . .I think I've finally come to realise it. She is who
        > she is. She's flawed.
        > She'll always leave the toothpaste lid off. She'll always put the milk
        > back in the refrigerator when it's sour. She'll never fold her clothes
        > away. She'll always want to party when I want to sleep. She'll always
        > prefer to sit and watch cartoons rather than go to college. She'll
        > forever have so much potential, but I can't force her to use it.
        > She'll forever be the love of my life, and I'm risking it because I'm
        > so damn stubborn with her.
        > I'll put it right, though. It's my turn to apologise. It's my turn to
        > put right the wrong.
        > * * *
        > I guess I should head back in. I hate to think of Buffy crying, and I
        > know she will be. We start with harsh words, but we always end up
        > sobbing for each other, just wanting it to be right. To be ok.
        > I'll keep storming off, and I'll always end up back in her arms,
        > slowly, tentatively. . .just trying to piece things back together again.
        > I get up, my limbs stiff from being held so taut. My eyes blurred from
        > the tears that I hate to cry. I don't like spilling my emotions so
        > visibly, but she gets me doing it so easily. Love is like a double
        > edged sword for me. On one side of the blade it's heaven, it's
        > perfect, it fucking blows me away. She blows me away. But on the
        > other. . .it cuts, it pierces my heart so deep I can barely breathe,
        > it turns into hell when we fight or misunderstand each other.
        > I wouldn't change it, though. I couldn't. Not know. She has a grasp of
        > my heart, of my soul, and I'll never be free from it. I never want
        to be.
        > I push the front door open slowly, my eyes searching the room ahead
        > for her. I don't see her and start to panic. No matter how tough she
        > is, or how much her pushing causes this, I know. . .it makes her
        > crumble just as much as me.
        > I call her name, a crack in my voice from all the tears.
        > "Buffy?" I call out, shivering as I finally realise just how cold it
        > was outside.
        > She doesn't answer, and my heart pinches in my chest. I head to the
        > back door to make sure she didn't leave by it. I can't lose her. Not
        > like this. Not ever.
        > I know I'm over reacting, but we hurt each other so much with these
        > stupid fucking arguments. It cracks us, marks us. . .and though we fix
        > each other, replace the lost pieces with more love, it still makes me
        > worry. Worry for how long we're gonna last like this. How long I can
        > get away with being an ass, and she can get away with treating me like
        > one.
        > I close the back door, having looked outside, and stand in the kitchen
        > just trying to calm my breathing down. Trying to get my brain
        > together. I hear a bang from upstairs, and fly into full on dread
        > mode. She's told me on many occasions that she can't live without me.
        > . .maybe she thought I'd gone for real this time.
        > I run to the stairs and fly up them, heading straight for our bedroom.
        > She's not there, and the tears start flowing from me once again. I
        > know it's insane to think she's done anything stupid, but our love is
        > so fucking all consuming. It's all we have. I have nobody, and now
        > with her mother dead, Dawn gone to college, the Scoobs scattered
        > around after the fall of Sunnydale. . .Buffy is pretty much alone too.
        > So we cling to each other and our love, and we harm each other with
        > words that are unnecessary, and I fear that it might all fall apart
        > because I can't seem to hold it together.
        > "Buffy," I call out again, my voice so shaky you can't even tell that
        > it's me.
        > I launch myself into the bathroom at the same time, and see her. My
        > beautiful Buffy. My heart and my soul.
        > "B?" My heart is fighting to leave my chest as she lays lifeless in
        > the steaming bath water.
        > "Faith. . ." she says quietly, "don't say anything, just join me."
        > I look down at her, barely able to see for the tears in my eyes. She's
        > covered in bubbles. Her hair piled on top of her head so it doesn't
        > get wet. She hates it getting wet in the bath.
        > I smile despite the anguish, the pain, and the remnants of the
        > argument. I can't help but smile at her. She'll always be my angel. My
        > saviour, despite everything we do to mess it up. We've hurt each other
        > so much in the past, so much with silly words even now. . .but we're
        > meant to be together.
        > I peel my clothes off, my skin chilly and sore from the cold. From the
        > fear of losing the most important thing in the world to me. The only
        > thing in my world.
        > Buffy watches as I strip, her eyes travelling over me with such love.
        > Such adoration and desire. I feel like blushing, and I'm not the
        > blushing type. She just looks so deep within me. She sees so much.
        > * * *
        > I love Faith's skin, it's so soft, so delicate, even with the hard
        > muscles and her few scars. The fact is. . .I love to just look at her,
        > then touch her with my fingertips, whispering them over her so I can
        > feel every little dip and curve. So I can memorise everything about
        > her. All the things I love and cherish.
        > This is how it is when we fight. At some point we just stop. We come
        > to a head and realise there's nowhere else to go. We can't part. . .so
        > we find our love for one another amongst the hurt, and we crawl back
        > to each other.
        > I smile a little in answer to her own smile. She steps out of her
        > panties, throwing them onto the pile of her clothes, then she steps
        > into the warm water of the bath. I move my legs for her to sit in
        > front of me, my eyes not leaving hers for a moment. Not wanting to
        > because her eyes make me feel so loved. So whole.
        > I sit up to meet Faith half way, my hands finding hers in the bubbles
        > all around us.
        > "I thought you'd be cold," I say, as I look down, suddenly unsure of
        > myself, trying to explain why I ran a nice hot bath full of bubbles
        > for her.
        > "I was," Faith answers, her voice low and gravely, her eyes snagging
        > mine again in the shimmering candle light.
        > "I love you," I whisper, as our fingers twirl around each other in the
        > water.
        > "And I love you," she says, another tear escaping to roll down her
        > We lean towards each other, our lips meeting so gently. I can feel her
        > hot breath tickling over me as we kiss so slow, so tenderly, all our
        > love exposed. She slips her tongue over mine and I taste her. Taste
        > her fear, her need, her desire.
        > My hands move up her arms, cascading water over them and warming her
        > up. Warming us both.
        > Faith pulls me a little closer, her strong hands on my hips, holding
        > me solid but with such care. I moan a little into her mouth, unable to
        > hide how much she moves me. How much she sweeps me up with every touch
        > and kiss.
        > I slip my hands, my fingers, over the hard curve of her collar bone,
        > then down. One hand resting over her heart, I wait to feel the power
        > of her heartbeat through her skin. I feel it strong against my palm,
        > beating for me as mine is beating for her.
        > I've never been so sure of love. Never known this pure feeling. This
        > need. Craving and desire. It's overwhelming, but I love immersing
        > myself in it. I love immersing myself in Faith.
        > I whisper against her lips, "I love you so much."
        > She whispers back, and I feel it throughout my entire body. It hits my
        > very soul. It protects my very soul.
        > As I leave one hand pressed against her heart, our bodies close and
        > hot in the steaming water, I move the other further down. Dipping it
        > into the water. Brushing my fingers over her pussy.
        > She sighs, her kisses becoming deeper, her right hand moving between
        > us. I feel her part my lips with her fingers, my arousal seeping out
        > over them. My need for her truly evident.
        > I slide one of my fingers over her clit, pressing down just a little
        > as she does the same to me. Our actions in unison, our breathing
        > quickening in the rising heat.
        > We've made love a thousand times. We've fucked a thousand more. Every
        > time feels new, feels special. It's like our little secret between us.
        > Only we know how good it feels to love each other. Only we know that
        > it feels like we're carrying each other to our own private heaven, to
        > adore each other. To cherish and to worship.
        > Our fingers press harder, move quicker in the slickness of our desire
        > for one another. She rubs right on my swollen clit, knowing that it
        > gets me quivering for her. I gasp, pressing against her, my palm still
        > feeling the drumming of her heart.
        > She breathes my name against my forehead as I lean into her, my
        > fingertip swirling fast around her pussy, touching her everywhere she
        > likes to be touched. Pushing her to the edge with me.
        > We both start to shake, little moans escaping. Our bodies hot and
        > pussies wet for each other. She clings to me, and we both come, every
        > ounce of love and longing pouring out.
        > I can feel tears on my face, and I don't know if they're mine or
        > Faith's. Probably both.
        > We love so much, we need so much, and sometimes we forget that we're
        > two separate people, with different ways of thinking. Different ways
        > of being. We're both driven by how much we mean to each other,
        > however, and that will always keep us strong. Keep us together.
        > We've fought in the past, to the death. . .yet still we cling. Still
        > we want more.
        > I couldn't live without her now. She's my other half. She's my
        > heartbeat. My need to stay alive with every vampire we come across. My
        > need to keep hold of what we have, no matter how much we can hurt each
        > other when we lose sight of what's important.
        > I love Faith, and she loves me, and until death decides to part us. .
        > .we're destined to be together through thick and thin.
        > "Thank you," Faith breathes softly into my hair.
        > I move back a little and kiss Faith's nose, then look deep into her
        > beautiful eyes. "Thank you, Faith, for being mine."
        > "I was always yours, and always will be," Faith assures me.
        > I feel it completely, and I feel it for her just as completely.
        > I was always hers. I was always waiting for her to rescue my heart.
        > The End
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