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