Fic
But What We Make
Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Faith Lehane/Dawn Summers, NC-17, questionable legality on Dawn's part.
Dawn’s breath comes hot and fast in Faith’s mouth. She digs red-lacquered fingernails into Faith’s shoulders, gasping in exaltation as Faith strokes her cloth-covered pussy. Her hands move, rhythmically, under Dawn’s rucked up skirt, one teasing the line of her hip and the other firmly petting her crotch.
Dawn, up against the wall of a darkened alley outside a club, skirt around her hips and alcohol on her breath, is so much more vulnerable than Buffy ever was.
Faith licks along her throat and hooks her thumbs in the edges of Dawn’s panties, yanking them down around her knees. She keens and shakes as one of Faith’s fingers slides down and in, kneading and parting damp flesh. Faith spares only a second of breath and thought for the fact that Dawn is so young, and that should bother her more than it does.
And then she’s stuffing a fist in her mouth to muffle her shout as Faith licks inside her, tonguing her clitoris and sliding her hands around to grip Dawn’s ass, tease her anus, slide down around the backs of her thighs to nudge her open wider. Dawn’s head slumps back against the alley wall, and the hand not covering her screams works up her shirt. Faith already unhooked her bra, and it takes a few tenuous seconds to push her hand under it, until she’s cupping one of her breasts and stroking the nipple with every thrust of Faith’s talented tongue.
Faith shifts back until her breath is just raising gooseflesh along Dawn’s thighs. The girl above her is taking gasping breaths and still trembling like crazy, and the way she looks, dazed and aroused and her pussy shiny and slick with fluid, makes Faith want nothing more than to push her onto a bed and fuck her with fingers and hips and mouth and teeth - ooooh, teeth. She wants to bite Dawn all over, screw her senseless, do things to Dawn that she could never dare do to Buffy.
She wonders, as Dawn wheezes and trembles and struggles to catch her breath, how Dawn would take it. She’s fairly sure that in her current state, Dawn wouldn’t object to anything she wanted, and that’s a hell of a turn-on.
“C’mon,” and she takes Dawn’s hand. It’s not the first word she’s said all night, but it feels like it. Her voice almost cracks in a whimper when Dawn nods and pushes down her skirt - still barely short enough to cover her ass, Faith notes, as Dawn tugs her panties up from her knees. She nods again and squeezes Faith’s hand and follows her out of the alley.
*
Dawn looks clean against her apartment walls, and Faith wants to dirty her. Dawn is fresh and bright and pretty, and Faith wants to take her so hard she sees stars, finger fuck her and tongue fuck her until she’s open and panting and she screams. Doesn’t matter what - Faith’s name, Buffy’s name, hell, even Anya’s name would do.
Dawn may look clean against her apartment wall, but biting her lips as Faith leisurely slides her fingers in as deep as they will go, she looks anything but.
When her hips jolt and dive, and sobs wind up her throat and pour out on Faith’s shoulder when they move, Dawn looks like blood and fire, spread open for the taking under Faith. Dawn’s legs are wide for her, and Faith takes and takes until Dawn stops screaming, until she’s wound her limbs around Faith’s body and just clings to her, rocking with every thrust of fingers and gasping every time Faith traces patterns in Dawn’s shoulder with tongues and teeth.
After that it doesn’t take long, only a quick brush of a warm mouth along her lips and Dawn’s body tenses and squeezes and she -
Collapses, gasping and panting like a racehorse, limp in the circle of Faith’s arms. “Oh, oh, oh,” seems to be all she can say, and Faith just cradles her there, Dawn’s hair tangled over the pillows and her breath wavering against Faith’s throat.
“Hey.” Faith slides down and presses her face into Dawn’s ribs, holding onto her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay.” Dawn’s voice is hushed and sweet, not reacting in the slightest to the harsh red semi-circles faith’s fingernails are pressing into Dawn’s belly. “We’re okay,” she croons.
Faith sees, for a fleeting moment, a flash of gold in Dawn’s hair and a hint of green in her eyes, and knows inside of her that they really, really aren’t.
Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Faith Lehane/Dawn Summers, NC-17, questionable legality on Dawn's part.
Dawn’s breath comes hot and fast in Faith’s mouth. She digs red-lacquered fingernails into Faith’s shoulders, gasping in exaltation as Faith strokes her cloth-covered pussy. Her hands move, rhythmically, under Dawn’s rucked up skirt, one teasing the line of her hip and the other firmly petting her crotch.
Dawn, up against the wall of a darkened alley outside a club, skirt around her hips and alcohol on her breath, is so much more vulnerable than Buffy ever was.
Faith licks along her throat and hooks her thumbs in the edges of Dawn’s panties, yanking them down around her knees. She keens and shakes as one of Faith’s fingers slides down and in, kneading and parting damp flesh. Faith spares only a second of breath and thought for the fact that Dawn is so young, and that should bother her more than it does.
And then she’s stuffing a fist in her mouth to muffle her shout as Faith licks inside her, tonguing her clitoris and sliding her hands around to grip Dawn’s ass, tease her anus, slide down around the backs of her thighs to nudge her open wider. Dawn’s head slumps back against the alley wall, and the hand not covering her screams works up her shirt. Faith already unhooked her bra, and it takes a few tenuous seconds to push her hand under it, until she’s cupping one of her breasts and stroking the nipple with every thrust of Faith’s talented tongue.
Faith shifts back until her breath is just raising gooseflesh along Dawn’s thighs. The girl above her is taking gasping breaths and still trembling like crazy, and the way she looks, dazed and aroused and her pussy shiny and slick with fluid, makes Faith want nothing more than to push her onto a bed and fuck her with fingers and hips and mouth and teeth - ooooh, teeth. She wants to bite Dawn all over, screw her senseless, do things to Dawn that she could never dare do to Buffy.
She wonders, as Dawn wheezes and trembles and struggles to catch her breath, how Dawn would take it. She’s fairly sure that in her current state, Dawn wouldn’t object to anything she wanted, and that’s a hell of a turn-on.
“C’mon,” and she takes Dawn’s hand. It’s not the first word she’s said all night, but it feels like it. Her voice almost cracks in a whimper when Dawn nods and pushes down her skirt - still barely short enough to cover her ass, Faith notes, as Dawn tugs her panties up from her knees. She nods again and squeezes Faith’s hand and follows her out of the alley.
*
Dawn looks clean against her apartment walls, and Faith wants to dirty her. Dawn is fresh and bright and pretty, and Faith wants to take her so hard she sees stars, finger fuck her and tongue fuck her until she’s open and panting and she screams. Doesn’t matter what - Faith’s name, Buffy’s name, hell, even Anya’s name would do.
Dawn may look clean against her apartment wall, but biting her lips as Faith leisurely slides her fingers in as deep as they will go, she looks anything but.
When her hips jolt and dive, and sobs wind up her throat and pour out on Faith’s shoulder when they move, Dawn looks like blood and fire, spread open for the taking under Faith. Dawn’s legs are wide for her, and Faith takes and takes until Dawn stops screaming, until she’s wound her limbs around Faith’s body and just clings to her, rocking with every thrust of fingers and gasping every time Faith traces patterns in Dawn’s shoulder with tongues and teeth.
After that it doesn’t take long, only a quick brush of a warm mouth along her lips and Dawn’s body tenses and squeezes and she -
Collapses, gasping and panting like a racehorse, limp in the circle of Faith’s arms. “Oh, oh, oh,” seems to be all she can say, and Faith just cradles her there, Dawn’s hair tangled over the pillows and her breath wavering against Faith’s throat.
“Hey.” Faith slides down and presses her face into Dawn’s ribs, holding onto her. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay.” Dawn’s voice is hushed and sweet, not reacting in the slightest to the harsh red semi-circles faith’s fingernails are pressing into Dawn’s belly. “We’re okay,” she croons.
Faith sees, for a fleeting moment, a flash of gold in Dawn’s hair and a hint of green in her eyes, and knows inside of her that they really, really aren’t.