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

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  • 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 1 of 2 , Sep 26, 2007

      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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