Warnings: This contains what could be construed as semi-nonconsensual sex between a woman (Willow) and a 15 year old girl (Dawn). So yes, it's femslash.
Disclaimer: I don't own the TV show Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. I'm just playing around.
So now, enjoy! I actually wrote this in 2004 and am only getting around to posting it now. :p
Dawn didn't tell.
It wasn't that she didn't want to. It wasn't that she never thought about it. And it wasn't that the opportunity had never come up… because it had. It was because what would have happened if she had. It would have acknowledged something that she didn't want to think about – in herself, in others, in the person that it had to do with…
When Willow had gone all evil-magicky that day, going to Rack's place instead of the movies, Dawn's heart had pounded faster than it ever had before. Willow had been so intense, the magick weaving around her making the air around her charged. She had an almost feral expression on her face, one that reminded Dawn of her Vampire Counterpart (sure, she hadn't really been there, but the memories the monks had given her made it seem like she had). And, although Dawn had been fearful of her old friend, she had also been excited.
Willow had been hitting on her. On her. Dawn Summers, the younger sister of the Slayer. Willow had run her hands through her hair, leaning in to whisper giggles and flirty statements in her ear. The feeling of the redhead's breath on her skin had made goosebumps erupt over her body, and made a hot flush tingle its way onto her scalp, making her shiver.
Through her fear, Dawn had been turned on.
She felt so guilty. Willow and Tara, although they were apart at the time, had been Dawn's picture of a stable relationship. Buffy could never seem to keep a guy, and Xander and Anya were always bickering, barely the image of a blissful couple wanting to get married. Great things to look up to, right?
But there had been Willow and Tara. They were light. So perfect for each other that Dawn shivered with jealousy each time she saw them together, aching inside for a love so pure. But somehow, she couldn't seem to hate them for their love; she sought them out, wanting a piece of that love for herself.
And then they had broken up. Dawn couldn't believe that Willow had thrown away her chance for love. Dawn loved Tara. Dawn loved Willow. But she loved them better together. And Willow had ruined it.
She had been so happy when Willow had asked her to go see a movie with her. She had seen Tara earlier in the week, but the whole happy feeling she got around the two wasn't fulfilled. When she went on a movie date with Willow, the two pieces in the puzzle would unite, and she would have an experience with both of the women. And seeing both of them sad, pining for the other, would bring her a twisted version of happiness. Even though her friends were apart, they were connected in their sadness. It was a deranged way for Dawn to find happiness, but Dawn wasn't a normal girl.
First of all, she was about as old as time itself, stuck in a 15 year old's body, and she was just coming to terms with the fact that she was attracted to girls. If Buffy ever assumed that Dawn's fixation on Willow and Tara was because she had grown up with it, or her mutual admiration for the two Wiccans, her sister would have only been half right. Dawn saw in the two her goal for her own relationship. She wanted to find her own girlfriend.
In Dawn's almost obsession with her friends, she had lived through alternating crushes on both Willow and Tara. There were times where Tara's smiles would send her stomach flip-flopping; where watching Willow pour over one of the many texts in the Magic Box, reaching up to casually brush a bang away would make Dawn's breath catch. There were also times where watching the both of them interacting would cause such a rush of emotion and feeling that she would have to run up to her room, citing homework to do to safely run away, where she would collapse on her bed, holding one hand to her heart, feeling it beat so fast she thought it would punch its way through her chest.
Willow would lay her hand on Tara's arm; Dawn's mouth would dry. Tara would turn to her girlfriend, her mouth quirking into a half-smile, happiness evident in her eyes; Dawn's hands would grow so sweaty that her pencil would slip, flying over her Geometry book, clattering to the ground. With a red face, she would mumble an excuse, pick it up, and resume her work, managing not to look at her secret fascination for five minutes. And then the cycle would start all over again, until Buffy would get so annoyed with her odd squeaks that she'd send her into the training room or up to her room just so she could continue talking about her lack of boyage without interruption.
But that day, Willow had flirted with her. Made her skin tingle so much that, if she hadn't felt like something was following them, that if she hadn't thought about Tara, Dawn would have answered back so much quicker…
Willow had cornered her. Pushed her up against the wooden fence, moving into her space. With her coal black eyes, feral smile, and leather jacket, Dawn had been able to smell Willow's shampoo, the other woman's hands tightly gripping her shoulders, moving to keep her hands caught, her dark-red hair brushing against her bare neck. Dawn had been cold to begin with, so feeling Willow's body pressed against hers just heightened the goosebumps. She felt so warm where Willow's skin met hers. She could feel acutely where Willow's thighs shifted against her, the older girl's hip slightly digging into her to stop her from moving away.
Willow had all the power. Her breath washed over Dawn's lips, and they parted almost without her meaning to. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid that Willow had felt it where their chests were pressed together. Willow had looked into her eyes, her irises so black she felt like she was drowning, and leaned forward. In a honeyed tone, her voice still so high, Willow had taunted, smirking, "You want this, don't you, Dawnie? The innocent one." She snorted. In a sing-song voice, she continued, running her fingers up her jaw line; Dawn was experiencing too much sensation to speak or move, "I've seen the way you look at me n' Tara. You're a dyke, aren't you? A cute, innocent, baby-dyke."
Willow's eyes suddenly narrowed, and she thrust into Dawn with her thigh, pushing herself in-between Dawn's legs, rubbing against her, causing her to moan almost against her will. A wave of wetness spread through her, centering in her core. She was on fire. Pushing against Willow's hand which held down her wrists, digging her sensitive skin into the wood, she made an inarticulate noise as Willow thrust into her roughly again.
She wanted this so much. Wanted to feel Willow against her, lust overwhelming her fear. She forgot about Tara, forgot about where they were, who could see them. All she wanted was for Willow to continue thrusting against her, keep her causing all the pleasure that was running through her body. She wanted Willow's lips on her own.
Finally wrenching her hands away from her captor, Dawn grabbed the back of Willow's head, intoxicated by her smell and the smell of both of their rising desires, her fingers latching tightly into the redhead's hair, crashing their mouths together. They both moaned, Willow's more of a guttural growl, and Willow's hands grasped the side of Dawn's hips, jerking her forward, urging her so close Dawn could feel her warmth through both of their pants.
"Oh God, Dawnie, I want you so much," Willow tore her mouth away, and Dawn gasped as, in a lustful and high rage, the Wiccan forced her shirt up, over her head, almost tearing the fabric of her long-sleeve shirt. Before Dawn could even react, Willow had quickly pulled down her bra; brought out into the night air, her nipples peaked, aching so sweetly. She didn't even have time to feel embarrassed at all, showing her teenage body to the experienced Willow. Willow had already hungrily attacked her right breast with her mouth, her hands around Dawn's waist, urging her to arch and moan, grasp at her hair and neck and shoulders with weak hands.
Dawn had never felt so alive, so warm, so much passion. It was all happening so fast. Willow's mouth was so wet and hot that it seared her skin, chilled by the slight wind but warmed by the sweat Willow had made her bead before. Willow surrounded her. Her hands seared on her waist. Her teeth nipped, lips sucked, never stopping moving, and Dawn could feel something inside of her burgeon, almost becoming overpowering. Her legs trembled; perhaps sensing that Dawn was having trouble staying up, Willow smirked, moving away for a second to tease, "Aww… Poor Dawnie. Inexperienced, is she?"
Dawn flushed, but Willow had moved again, reaching up to an iron bar that was atop the fence, the perfect height to hold onto with her hands. She made Dawn wrap her arms around her sides, under her arms, crushing her to her, the redhead's clothes shockingly cold against Dawn's heated skin, urging her to wrap her legs around her right leg and waist, which she had bent up. In a flash of almost sane thought, Willow forced Dawn's shirt back down to protect her against the wood of the fence, and with a grunt, she started to thrust rapidly into Dawn.
Dawn gasped into Willow's shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck as Willow pounded against the crotch of her jeans, rubbing an even hotter flame inside of her, all the while showing an amazing power of strength. Her back rubbed against the wood, almost painful, but all Dawn could concentrate on was the rough motion happening against her. She gasped and choked, her breath so ragged as she uncontrollably bucked against Willow. Willow moaned into her ear, and Dawn's arms tightened.
She could feel something happen. Something she had only dreamed about. Something inside of her was tightening and releasing, tides and waves of wetness pouring out of her. Locking her legs around Willow, she humped against her wildly, rocking her head back and forth, the sweat pouring off of her, her and Willow's hair getting stuck against her skin.
Willow smelled so wonderful, felt so wonderful, the pressure making her so delirious. Thrust after thrust, gush of wetness and pleasure, so rough and primal that Dawn knew Willow was fucking her. Fucking her here, outside, in the alley, night and public. That realization, and the friction, the material of her jeans and the sharp bite of her zipper made her mewl in pleasure at every stroke.
Willow's arms quivered around her head, her muscles locked, and for the first time, through her sex-filled mind, Dawn was getting concerned about the Wiccan hurting herself, high or no.
Then, suddenly stopping, Willow straightened herself, grabbed Dawn's belt loops, said a muffled magick spell, and her jeans and underwear slid around her legs. Spinning her around, Dawn almost off balance, Willow steadied herself against the fence, holding Dawn to her chest, her breasts pushing against her back. Shocked at the sudden motion, Dawn felt Willow's hips roll into her buttocks, and then Willow's hand was suddenly between her legs.
"Mmm… My Dawnie…" Willow murmured into the sensitive skin on her neck, Dawn pushing violently into Willow's hand, latching her eyes shut and mewling at the contact of hot skin against her most intimate of regions, "You feel so gooood…"
She teased Dawn's lips, moving through her wetness so slowly Dawn could have screamed. If it wasn't for Willow's arm around her waist, her legs would have given. It felt so much more than when Dawn had ever touched herself. So much wetter and hotter. Willow was moving so teasingly, just circling her center, just barely touching her bundle of nerves, giggling almost madly into her neck, nipping with blunt teeth every time she skimmed Dawn's clit.
"You want this, don't you Dawnie? You want to be a bad girl. A bad baby-dyke. You want me to devirginize you, don't you, Dawnie?" With a flick of her finger, she drew herself up Dawn's labia, spreading her leaking wetness everywhere. "What would Buffy say if she saw us now? Huh? Her little baby sister being so naughty… Getting fucked outside."
Dawn shivered at Willow's words, her loins burning. She thrust against Willow's invading fingers, wanting her so badly she was almost crying. "Please, Willow!" she cried, "I want you! I want you inside of me!" All of her rational thought had fled downwards.
Willow's breath hitched. Murmuring so low in Dawn's ear, "Your wish is my command," she thrust sharply inside of her, so deep and hard. Dawn froze.
Willow thrust again and again. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through Dawn's body, a little bit of pain getting swept away. Willow's arm around her waist was rock solid, and her hips were rolling into Dawn's back, even as Dawn was jutting her hips up and down, willing the feeling of Willow inside her to never stop.
She moaned, panting, shaking her head back and forth, digging into Willow's clavicle, spreading her legs wider and wider to allow Willow access. Willow pinned her to her. Her breath washed over Dawn's cheek, the redhead's chin pressed tightly on her shoulder.
It was building building building. Pleasure, heat; all feeling was between her legs as Willow fucked her. And, as Willow stilled behind her with one last thrust of her fingers so deep, so deep, her thumb slipping down from her waist to twist her clit, Dawn bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming, wave upon wave of wetness trickling down her legs as she came.
Light exploded in her eyes, and she could barely breathe, her body trembling and shaking. Willow bucked behind her, and, with one more thrust of her center against Dawn, she stilled, her own moan filling the brunette's ears.
Willow hadn't looked at her as she stumbled away, leaving Dawn to dress herself and follow on shaky legs. They didn't look at each other, and didn't say anything, Willow off in her own world, giggling to herself. Dawn felt empty. Hot. But she didn't have any time to reflect on what had happened because at the end of the block, the demon had appeared, and hell broke loose. There was pain, fear, and heart-pounding terror. And the hospital. And then the night was over.
As Dawn's broken arm healed and she could look at Willow with only a hint of a blush and a quickening of her heart, having forgiven her for the car crash, they were beginning to try and build their friendship back up again. However, the teenager was terrified that Willow would touch her, even in passing. It would start the heat all over again.
Willow had admitted to both Buffy and Dawn that she did not recall everything that had happened to her when she had been high. Only flashes, bits and pieces, most of them centering on running and steering the car remained to her. Dawn would have walked away from the conversation feeling totally bereft if Willow hadn't, at the end, caught her eye, her green eyes clouded, and looked down, swallowing. "Some things, feelings…" she whispered, and clenched her hands into fists. She licked her lips, looked at Dawn apologetically, and Dawn knew – she knew – that, although Willow didn't remember all of the intimate details, she probably had a hint of what had happened between the two.
And Dawn was content on never telling her… no matter how much she ached to feel Willow's fingers on her skin, feel her lips clash against hers, have her take her, be inside her, taste her again.
She wouldn't.