Title: Malicious Beauty: Part Three
Summary: What if Faith hasn't fully changed? What if she still feels that she's allowed to practice part of her old rule, 'Want. Take. Have.'? And what happens when all three are pointing at HER golden girl?
Contact: Yahoo! - RedemptionBoundSlayer. (With underscores between Redemption and Bound, then between Bound and Slayer. Stupid edit-thingy.)
Disclaimer: Wish I owned Buffy and all the characters related. If I did, I'd have enough money to hire someone to clone Sarah Michelle Gellar and let the true shippers have peace once and for all with the entire saga. But, I don't. I'm just a poor girl with the obsession of writing. Also, I do not own the lyrics to the song. Everything is copyrighted to the respected owners.
Note: Everything in bold are lyrics. In italic are thoughts. Also, I want to thank everyone for the feedback. It gives me reason to keep continuing knowing you all are enjoying it. I'll make the chapters longer. It's just that at three am, they look longer. With that said, enjoy and review; some more!
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It's still getting worse after everything I tried. What if I found a way to wash it all aside?
God, help me. I really mus' be a fuckin' sucka f'her. Jus' watching her in that little night gown, shiftin' in her sleep, makes me want to... to pin her down and take what -is- mine. To ravish her over and over again. To show her what it was like all that time in jail, not being with anyone. To show her how much I need her. No. How much; She. Needs. Me.
But do I? No! I can't.
I'm changed. Reformed. Different. Better.
Whateva'. All the same. Right? Guess so. Least Red thinks I've changed. But part of me hasn't. No one can -fully- change.
Look at Angel. Sure, he's got a soul, but deep inside, he's still got tha' fucking prick of an alter ego, Angelus. And man, do I hate tha' guy! Son of a bitch. He's one guy with a bite worse than his bark. 'Cos damn. He leaves his mark. That's the thing ain't no one seen yet. His mark on me! Fuck man, I somewhat tolerated it on B's body, but me?! Who the fuck does he think he is anyway? If it wasn't for Angel being connected to the punkass bitch, I'd'a staked the leather clad asshole when I had the chance, and don't fuckin' think I didn't. -I- owned him. Not vice versa. So get tha' outta ya head right now!
See, B's marking is on her right side. Mines on the left. Angel marked Buffy. Figures the cock sucker hadda mark me. But can ya get any -less- creative? Guess vamps with ego-trips don't think so much on the creativity. Whateva'. To each his own, man. Each his own.
Where was I? Oh, yeah.
You can take the man out of the demon, but ya can't take the demon out of the man.
Same as the way I am. This -is- who I am. Through and through. Still livin' in the fuckin' shadow of Buffy Anne Summers. The pretty little wonder girl. The super heroine. The tragic lover. The brave... so on and so on. Kinda hard not to live in her shadow.
Yeah, but as far as marking's go. I made mine better than any vampiric 'claiming'. I -was- Buffy. I marked her while in tha' precious shell. I degraded it in a shit loada ways. Tha' body loved every minute of it. Loved the way I -let- Riley ride it. Let him gently take it, even as I tried to speed the ministrations up. Tha' guy jus' wigs me the hell out. Too fuckin' nice, or was. Guess he ain't in the picture no more? Good. One less ass I gotta kick to get the lucious ass of Buffy in bed.
As I was sayin', or braggin' rather... I had Buffy's body learning -my- techniques. Sure it was her body, but they were my actions. Everything I did, aside from Misfit Islands toy soldier, was from me. Actually, tha' was me too. To an extent. Couldn't show rent-a-soldier jus' how good -I- was. He might've gotten a tad bit suspicious.
But, yeah, when tha' body exploded into orgasms and fucked the tiny digits harder and harder, juices dripping onto the bed, the floor, everywhere I took it, it was because of -me-.
I was teaching it things tha' no man would eva' gotten to do if even given the chance.
Plus, hello! Miss.Puritan wouldn't let them. I don't think she's ever let anyone go down on her. Tha's one thing I hated not being able to do. Lick tha' delicious cunt from top to bottom, and all in-betweens. Given Buffy's flexibility, she ain't tha' bendable.
Mmm, if only she was.
What if she touches with those fingertips, as the words spill out like fire from her lips.
I'm jus' like the fuckin' rest. Captivated by her beauty. She's the flame. I'm the moth and eventually, ya got it, I'm gonna fuckin' get burned. Haven't I already, though? Yup. Too many times and yet I keep comin' back for more. I can't resist. Ya always want wha' ya can't have, but damnit! I -am- going to have wha' I want!
The palms of my hands are sweaty. Sticking with the nervousness tha's crashing through my veins jus' as the surge of lust breaks through. How dark had it been in prison? Too dark. Now here she lay. My beautiful fuckin' sunshine. My golden girl. My sun to my moon. My stars against the never ending black abyss. My Heaven in Hell. My salvation through damnation. My perfection in imperfection. Faith a poet? Jesus, tha's jus' as bad as William The-Fucking-Bloody as a poet before he had the nickname Spike. Jesus, someone shoot me, please.
I can't take my eyes off her. I know there's something primal in them. Always is when it comes to Buffy.
My Buffy tha' was comin' 'round. Her body twisting ontop of the bed I once held her mother captive on. "Tha' a'girl B, jus' come 'round some more." Course I'd encourage her. Why the fuck wouldn't I? I might be a murderer, I ain't no rapist. I want her aware of wha' I'm gonna do to her, and have her aware of just how much she loves it.
If she says come inside, I'll come inside for her. If she says give it all, I'll give everything to her. I'm justified. I'm purified. I'm sanctified; inside you.
My movements stop. My lips suddenly twitch and a devious grin is jus' stretchin' a mile wide, right 'bout now. She's moving to touch herself.
Wonder who it is she's dreamin' of?
It's like outta the blue, my jealousy flares. My skin flushes with color from containing my hatred at her, for dreaming of someone else. Ya might think I have no right, but I do! I have more right than any-fucking-one! There are these thoughts that still flicker through my mind. To jus' straddle her and make her cum. Make her know wha' it truly is like to be someone's. To belong to me, and let her see tha' she does and always will. To see the pleasure flash across her angelic face as she dreams about whoever, but wakes up to see me. And then realize, she hasn't any power to defend herself with. Tha' the last breath she takes in bliss, is death's wish. To snuff out her light.
To snuff out her light that brings -my- darkness some sense of ease; forever.
But I can't. I won't. I'm not going to. Especially not after the way she touches the tattoo, which is still there.
Holy Christ Chex's, I can't breath.
She still has it? I thought for sure it wouldn't be there. Tha' Miss.Goodie-Goodie, would'a removed it. Be too ashamed of it. But she hasn't. It's there for all the world... no, only for me to see. It's mine. She's mine. The only way I was broken from tha' trance is by the way she moaned my name.
I blinked and I blinked, and I blinked. So many times I was sure I'd look like Xander, when he tries to cover tha' lil' twitch of his eyes when given a situation and my name comes up. But back to -my- sleeping beauty. The rose petal lips parted and out it came. A soft mewl of pleasure. At once, the lips of my face were dry, but the lips between my thighs were soaked.
Man, was I was wet.
Heaven's just a rumor she'll dispell, as she walks me through the nicest parts of hell.
But my fantasy quickly fades once Buffy gets up, retreating to the headboard, hissing out my name. I can smell her. Jus' as keen as any vampire would be able to. It was a trait both Slayers and vamps shared. Wonder if Barbie, knew it? Probably not.
That stake was always jammed up her ass too much.
Time to take it out.
Stepping closer to the bed, my fingers curl around the hem of the thin sheet. It felt like silk, but nowhere near the way Buffy's skin felt. Always hot to the touch, even as... Get off? I nearly laughed aloud and so hard, tha' I would've ended up on the floor if I hadn't an ounce of self-control.
Self-control tha' was fading fast. A low growl errupted from deep within my chest.
Guess Slayers have more traits shared with vamps, then we think, huh?
My fingers pulled at the covers. Body coming up on the bed in front of those terrified green eyes, swirling with lust. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. Buffy's nervousness was filled with arousal. I could smell it more than anything, and this time, I hadn't even the need to concentrate.
"I'm not gettin' out, B. I jus' got in. Besides, like ya said..." I let her know tha' I knew. Words sultry and low, jus' wha' wigged the blonde out the most. Being seduced by a woman. She was still the uptight little goddess the Scooby crew worshipped her as. It was time tha' I showed her how a woman of her calling should be worshipped. "...I gotta get off."
I still dream of lips I never should have kissed. Well, she knows exactly what I can't resist.
With a blur of floral sheets, and suntanned flesh, Buffy was pinned under me. Her body tensing up, trying to deny what it so very much wanted.
Nestling my body between her thighs, I can't help but lower my face to her neck, inhaling her scent. Vanilla and brown sugar. A combination tha' could easily send me over the edge.
If she wanted, there was enough power in her to send me reeling off the bed, and wishing she'd finish gutting me years ago. But, she doesn't move. Aside from the obvious wriggle to get in a better spot. "Jus' let it happen, B. Y'know y'feel it."
She had to have. The warmth that always came from being near each other. It died when I left. Seemed the further I was from her, the colder it got inside my body. My blood, and yea', my heart also. Right now, though, I was on fire. Guess tha's wha' she does to ya.
Leave it to her to make everything and anything, complicated. Mostly; myself.
Now tha' the sheet is outta the way, jus' gotta get the nightie outta the way, too. As much as it looks delectable on her, I want her all naked. I want to feel her bare skin against mine. Another growl errupts from my chest, tickling over the sensitive flesh of her neck. She moans again, my hands now grasping both her tiny wrist together. Moving them so only one larger hand held them above her head, keeping Buffy in the spot -I- want her to be.
Keeping her in the spot she knows she wants to be; under me.
For once, this Slayer was ontop. No living in Buffy's shadow. Right now, as my lips fastened to hers, taking in her cries of pleasure, legs parting in welcoming to me, she's finally living in -my- shadow.
-To be continued. Obviously. Send feedback. I promise in the next chapter there will be release for all the tension.