Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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Fic for viciouswishes's Femslash Ficathon

Crimson and Clover
By Snow

Written for chicken_cem
Beta by viciouswishes
Don't own them. Don't know them.
Simply playing with them.

... i wanna do every thing
what a beautiful feeling ...

It had only been two weeks since Gwen had been wearing the device. Since Gunn had placed it on her back and it climbed under her skin. She hadn’t been the same since that moment. She hadn’t been able to stop casually touching people; men, women, strangers. Shaking hands and pats on the back, brushing through crowds with shivers of excitement. Sweat dripping down the back of her neck and she would have to stop. Press herself against a wall or the glass front of a store and pinch the tender skin on the inside of her wrist until she quit trembling. Until her heart rate slowed and her breathing became normal again.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was wonderful and it was everything she always wanted, had longed for … forever. And Gwen knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. She lived on stolen assets and paid with cash that didn’t belong to her. She hid inside of her anonymous building, in her gorgeous, huge apartment and turned off her phone. No contacts. No jobs. Nothing to do but wait until the urge grew too strong, until her courage was bolstered with vodka and gin and she’d go out. To an art gallery. To a shopping mall. To a movie theater or a grocery store and be normal for an hour. For an afternoon … until she couldn’t anymore. And then Gwen would run back to her elegant cave, throw the locks and turn off all the lights and sit in the middle of her bed. Huddled on velvet and silk and hug herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, crying until the tears soaked her shirt. Shake until her muscles hurt. Hating her life and herself endlessly.

Music pounded around Gwen; lights flashed with the same primitive rhythm and dry ice fog slipped around her feet, wet and cool, as she walked to the bar and ordered. She didn’t need another drink. She was already buzzing with the amount of alcohol it had taken to get her out of her apartment and into the nightclub but it didn’t matter. She clung to the liquid courage like a lifeline tossed to her in a raging sea. Her time was almost up. She knew it. The prototype wasn’t designed to last and Gwen was desperate.

Men and women swirled around her, Dancing, laughing, flirting, talking and she hated every single one of them for that. Hated them and … wanted them. So fucking bad. A low, hot burn in the pit of her stomach, a tight, throbbing clench between her legs. The crotch of her red leather pants already soaked. The temptation was too much. The desire was too strong. She had to have it.

Feel a cock push inside, strong hands on her shoulders, on the back of her neck. Kiss lips that were softer than hers, lick skin that tasted of perfume and lotion and be touched.

God, yes. Please.


Gwen jumped, spilled her drink when hands grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman. “Come dance with me.”

“No, I-" Gwen’s answer was automatic, falling from her lips before she could think. “I don’t dance.”

“Bullshit. A body like that? You dance. And you’re dancing with me.”

Breasts rubbed against hers, glossed lips and breath that smelled like bubble gum and whiskey. Long hair that curled where sweat had made it damp, almost black eyes ringed with heavy kohl and mascara. She appeared to be the same age as Gwen, with an edge that seemed familiar. A look in her eyes that said I can kill you or I can fuck you, take you to the grave or to the moon … your choice. And Gwen, despite herself, was intrigued. Attracted. Of course, at this point, on this night, Gwen realized she was enticed by everyone here. By the very smell of sweat and perfume, cologne and pheromones that filled the air. But there was something about the dark eyes, the dark hair, the way the woman in front of her moved in place, swayed to the music even as all her concentration was focused on Gwen.

“Faith.” She held out her hand and Gwen took it carefully, gently. Still not at all used to the feel of skin touching hers. Every time was new. Every touch was incredible, even something as casual as this. As erotically charged as this.

“Gwen.” She spoke just loud enough to be heard over the pounding music.

“Great. Now that we know each other, let’s dance.” Faith held her hand tightly, dragging Gwen out to the middle of the packed dance floor and Gwen was almost overwhelmed with the heat and press of skin on skin. Faith let go and began moving to the drowning beat that surrounded them. Lights flashing over her face as her eyes closed, her tongue slipping out to lick over her shiny lips. Gwen moved slowly at first, feeling exposed, as if everyone was staring at her. Faith shimmed and shook and moved closer, her fingers sliding up the sides of Gwen’s silk shirt. Skimming over her arms, those dark eyes opened; Faith smiled and Gwen relaxed, let the music take her. Her hair falling over her shoulders in waves as she dances. Not even noticing if anyone was looking at her, that she was bumping into and being brushed past as if she was normal … as if she was simply human and nothing else.

The music was endless, the beat intoxicating. Sweat rolled from Gwen’s hair as she danced, watching Faith move in front of her. Watching as she’d tease the men that moved around them. Grinding her hips into theirs, rubbing her ass across their groins and yet she always, always returned to Gwen. Leaning up against her and into her, getting closer as the night grew later, as the music became slower. Gwen licked her lips and found the pink taste of gum there and wondered when she’d been kissed and why she didn’t remember it.

Faith pressed into her one last time and Gwen shivered. Suddenly tense again. She smiled weakly at Faith’s expression.

“You are interested, right?” Faith asked, pulling Gwen over to a small table and signaling a waiter.

Gwen nodded, not trusting her voice. The waiter brought their drinks and Faith held hers up. “Knock it back, baby. And let’s go.”

For a breath, the length of a heartbeat, Gwen was sure that Faith had meant leave the club. Which she was not willing to do. But no, their glasses moved together with a sound that couldn’t be heard over the music and both were empty before they hit the table. Gwen’s head swam with the added alcohol and the heat that was building inside of her body. She was terrified. She was excited. She was fucking horny. Faith held her hand tightly as they returned to the crowded dance floor and Gwen followed her willingly, feeling the heavy bass beat through the heels of her sandals, it vibrated up her legs and settled in her crotch.

Faith danced in front of her and Gwen felt a hand between her legs, the press of a palm on her breast, a thumb flick over one hard nipple. She focused on Faith’s eyes, on the secret smile that was only inches from Gwen’s own mouth. Leaning into the softest of kisses, slick lips against lips. Bubble gum tongue soaked in whiskey and gin slipping into her mouth.

“Come here.”

Gwen could see Faith’s lips moving and even though she couldn’t hear the words. She got the meaning, and her heart tripped in her chest. Faith pulled her into the empty ladies room and a stall, slamming the door behind them and pushing Gwen against the cool metal. It was dim, suddenly quiet and smelled of mixed perfumes and strong air fresheners. A warm, yellow glow from the lights around the mirrors crept over and under the stall doors.

“Jesus, you’re on fire.” Faith’s voice sounded muted and hoarse to Gwen after the loud music of the club. Faith’s hands pulled at Gwen’s shirt, untucking the silk and sliding up to palm over a low-cut lace bra. Gwen stiffened, her body tense and tight again. The familiar feeling of nerves being pulled to the breaking point inside of her.

“What?” Faith asked, not moving her hands. Not removing them, either.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen whispered. “I’ve never …”

Faith smiled. “With a girl?”

“No.” Gwen shook her head, long curls moving over her shoulders.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Faith laughed and Gwen was mortified. Naked and open and a tremor ran through her as Faith’s fingers slipped inside of her bra. Pulling the cups down to ring under her breasts, soft touches over the hard peak of her nipples. “You’re not kidding.”

Gwen closed her eyes as Faith took the last few inches that separated their mouths and licked gently over Gwen’s lips. Faith’s tongue was hot and wet and warm flashes of desire ran down Gwen’s body from her brain to her crotch.

“Hold onto something, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Gwen felt her shirt lifted and her back arched at the touch of Faith’s mouth on one nipple, the light pinch and twist of fingers on her other. She reached up blindly, hanging on to the top of the metal wall that Faith was pushing her against. Hands on the button and zipper of her leather jeans, the cool of steel on the skin of her ass as her pants and red thong panties were pushed down to her knees.

“So wet, baby … so fucking hot …” Faith whispered and Gwen shivered as Faith’s fingers rolled between her legs. The scrape of long nails over her clit and Gwen was writhing against the wall. It had been so long since anyone … touched her there … nothing but her own hand, toys that shorted out after one use … never the unexpected feel of fingers and nails and oh, my god … lips pressed there. The flick of a tongue and Gwen spread her legs as open as she could.

“Please … please …” Not even hearing her own voice as she begged for something, for anything, for more.

Faith hummed as she kissed and licked, teasing and biting tenderly. Sucking and pushing two fingers deeper inside of Gwen. Coated with smoke and honey, riding over silk skin and ridges inside that made Gwen’s hips buck and twist when she pressed right.there. They slid, passed and up and further in until Gwen’s hands tangled in her hair and held Faith’s mouth close and she could hear her own voice echoing in the small bathroom.

Women walking in and out, moving passed them. Laughing and talking and Faith and Gwen existed inside a vacuum, alone. Not hearing, not caring about anything other than touching each other. Taking each other higher and higher until they were both sweating, breathless. Kissing and tasting and fucking standing up. Rolling against the walls of the small space where they were trapped. Orgasm after orgasm, no where left untouched, no place that hadn’t been tasted, no entry that hadn’t been taken with fingers and tongue and teeth and when they were done they clung to each other. Gasping and laughing. Lip gloss and eye shadow smeared, mascara caught by tears of passion and running in droplets of sweat.

Faith reached over and wiped Gwen’s cheeks clean.

“It was good?”

Gwen opened her eyes at the sound of Faith’s low, husky voice. She smiled, her arm slung low around Faith’s waist. Pulling her closer and breathing in the scents of lust and sex, amazed at finding the smell of her own body on the skin of someone else.

“It was everything.”

Hours later, Gwen was still awake. Sitting in the middle of her big bed, in her usual position. Her arms wrapped around her knees, unconsciously rocking herself. But this time, for the first time in so very long … there were no tears running down her face. Her silk night-shirt was not wet around the collar and she couldn’t stop smiling, even as she felt the familiar, hated heat, the sizzle and snap of electricity moving inside and through her body.

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