Title: BTVS FF: Never Saw It Coming
Author: Melanacious
Email: bardlyone@gmail.com
URL: Demented Oracle_Looking Into the Abyss
URL: Hell Fire Dreams: The Twisted Prophet
Rating: NC 17 Not suitable for readers under 18. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: *** All BTVS characters owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I own nothing***
Distribution: Feel free to email me if you like it.
Pairing: Willow/Buffy
Summary: Smut (Not beta-ed. Just had to get this out of my head.)
FEED BACK: Yes, please.

Never Saw It Coming


WILLOW

"Oh god." Willow's blunt nails dug into the shoulders that her hands gripped in desperation. "Please don't stop."

Her hips bucked, writhed and circled with no hint of rhythm only a desperate dance for completion as each deep thrust of two determined fingers practically lifted her off her feet.

"Never gonna happen." The growled reply was accompanied by the sharp nip of teeth in the juncture between the left side of her neck and shoulder. The nip elicited a cry of pleasure. Immediately after, the harsh suckle of the bruised flesh aroused a moan as heat swept from the nerve endings there to join the tingle in her pebbled nipples. "Never," was harshly panted into her ear, and then eager lips were firmly attached to her own.

Their first kiss since this began and Willow blissfully gave herself over to its blunt domination. The kiss was not gentle at all. Teeth nipped sharply at her lips; a forceful tongue demanded entrance into her mouth and then took ownership of it, suckling Willow's own tongue and wrapping around it as though it sought to fuse the muscles together. The kiss was hungry, devouring, all consuming. And nothing at all like Willow expected, not that she had been expecting it.

The kiss ended with both of them panting raggedly, blue eyes fierce and predatory, dragged themselves down the length of her body, the ripped bodice of her blouse, barely clinging to the pale freckled shoulders, the bra now torn in half baring the small breasts peppered with bruises and teeth marks, nipples that were hard and swollen from worshipful and rough attention.

Willow felt seared by the inspection, exposed inside and out. That gaze moved steadily downward, to the hem of the skirt tucked into its own waist band, to where part of a tan arm and a wrist disappeared down the waist of green bikini briefs, moving up and down, as the slender fingers of that arm and hand moved in and out and swirled.

"Oh god." Twin fires seemed to blaze behind the blue eyes that returned to study Willow's face, an expression of astonishment and stunning desire had settled on the woman's face. "This is us," the woman breathed out the words. Thumb circling with maddening precision on Willow's clit, dragging more soft cries from the redhead's lips. "This should have always been us."

"Oh... oh." Willow's eyes remained opened, gaze locked upon the face of the benefactress of her pleasure in a daze of lust, shock and quiet begging that this was not some sort of strange, twisted hell mouthy version of a wet dream. Because honestly, she never saw it coming. But now that it was here she didn't want it to go away.

Soft fingers caressed her cheek, her brows, her lips a paradox to the fingers thrusting hard inside her, but that gentle touch burned her just as deeply and felt like branding marks on her flesh as the soft litany of her new found lover reached her ears.

"Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yes. Yes."

It bubbled up and over, that heat scorching her inside and out, spreading from her well fucked cunt to the tips of her fingers and toes until her climax erupted, and crashed over her, making her dizzy, and lightheaded. A powerful arm held her up, and close. The fingers inside remained within milking the last of her orgasm.

"Oh god!" Willow whimpered, dazed and still a little confused, over what had just happened, and that it had happened. Her head rested in the crook of her lover's neck. The fingers inside of her gently withdrew and then that arm was wrapped tight around her, in a never-gonna-let-you-go embrace. "I love you, Buffy."


BUFFY

She couldn't say when it began.

But it couldn't have been sudden. Maybe it had festered for awhile and had been long ago tossed in with the pile of emotional muck she kept in a mental over stuffed closet of stuff Buffy can't deal with right now.

But when it broke free ... now that had been sudden ... visceral. Springing to the fore with a mental slayery bellow of "Mine!" It had left her shaken and a little frightened of herself moreso than usual. The things she wanted ... wanted to do, imagined doing, dreamed of doing kept her brain misfiring with dangerous signals and barely controlled urges.

And left her constantly on the edge, if it were possible to be more on the edge than she had been since her death and resurrection.

She never saw it coming.

Hadn't been prepared for it ... but now that it was here out of the proverbial bag, she knew herself well enough to know there was no stuffing it back. And if she didn't act. Didn't do something about it then she would ... act out or lash out to be more precise at a particular dark-haired Potential who was just a little too arrogant, a tad too lippy, and reminded Buffy just little too much of a Faith wannabe.

That particular Potential was now leading a hesitant and uncertain redhead out to the dance floor. That particular Potential had her hands on the redhead's hips and was pulling her close much too close while leaning in for a kiss.

Do's and Don't's warred through Buffy's mind. 'Why-I-shouldn'ts' held her immobile, as she took a mental look at every failed, botched, truly fucked up relationship that had left her empty, aching and longing. This could be one more in a string of disastrous mistakes, all the more fatal for its potential to kill a long standing friendship if things ended badly ... potential.

Potential

Buffy's gaze zeroed in on the unworthy roaming hands, on the way the redhead seemed to be enjoying but not quite enjoying the attention as though she were struggling to make things fit. Only the piece she was working with was to an entirely different puzzle. She drained the remainder of her drink and just barely refrained from slamming the glass down on the bar counter.

"Fuck it." Not this time. She recognized her past mistakes for what they were, and in a moment of clarity learned form them. She wasn't letting go.

She stood, made her way across the bar to the dance floor. And maybe she began channeled a little bit of Spike the moment Willow glanced up at her, a puzzle expression on her adorable face when she realized Buffy was walking toward her and her dance partner. But she couldn't stop herself from grabbing Willow's arms and yanking her from the Potential's undeserving possession.

"Hey!"

Buffy didn't spare a glance for the indignant whine. She growled a harsh, "Bugger off," and shoved the girl away. Her eyes were on Willow, taking in the quizzical and shocked expression, mixed with concern and honest affection, for Buffy. The redhead never once looked at the young Potential.

"Hey!" the brat snarled again.

"Buffy," Willow drew closer, close enough that Buffy could smell her skin, the light bath oil she used. "Are you okay?" Her hand rose, tentative unsure. Things had been so strained between them since Willow had returned from the coven in England that Buffy knew the redhead wasn't sure the touch would be welcomed. But Willow always the brave, followed up, cupping Buffy's cheek. The touch burned and snapped the taut remains unraveling control. Buffy leaned her face into the touch, her eyes locked on the woman who without reason or understanding, Buffy had decided was hers.

"Buffy?" Willow whispered. Something flickered in the redhead's eyes, recognition ... understanding ... the final puzzle piece locking into place. And then there was a small hint of fear and disbelief.

"Come with me." It wasn't a request or a question as Buffy gave her no opportunity to answer.

She gripped the hand she held tighter and led the woman from the Bronze, ignoring the calls from friends and family. The concern inquiries. Once outside she said nothing and was grateful that Willow had left the babble and questions behind.

She held on to the slender hand in her grip possessively, marched down the dark streets of Sunnydale, her bearing much like when she stalked and hunted the demons on the night. But there was no slaying on her mind. She was not going in for the kill. But Buffy was just as determined that for once in her life she would have what she wanted, now that she'd decided, now that she knew, exactly what that was ... who that was.

The house was silent, having left the others at the Bronze. And no doubt they were back there trying to decide the more prudent choice, to follow and find out what was up or to stay and let her and Willow hash out whatever their friends were imagining was wrong. And she didn't care.

For once it wasn't about what others might think or what they wanted from her, and it wasn't about protecting their feelings.

She lead, pulling Willow behind her firmly. Until they were behind the closed door of Buffy's room. Buffy had pulled the redhead just inside and closed the door, her closeness backing Willow against the shut barrier to the rest of the house.

"Us." Buffy simply stated. "Say yes."

"Buffy what ..." Buffy expression was intense, studying reading the face she'd long ago memorized, the friend who'd brought her more happiness than any other in her life ever had, the same friend who'd caused her more pain then anyone else Buffy had ever known. The woman who''d lost her confidence in herself and yet who Buffy knew with a certainty was once again going to save them in the end. Her Big Gun. She stalked forward until Willow was pressed against the door. Waiting for signs of fear and panic and was only met with more confusion and concern. "Buffy ..."

"Say yes." Buffy held Willow's gaze looking deeply into the soft green eyes, remembering with vividness those same eyes once bled through with black. The strength that had matched her own, the power in the magic and in the wielder. She felt the chill of excitement ... and soft voice in her head guttural and reassuring whispered to her that this woman was finally strong enough. And maybe some part of her had been constantly coiled, lurking and watching behind seemingly unobservant eyes, waiting for Willow to be the one.

"Say yes." She moved in closer until they were merely a breath away. Her hands pressed against the door on either side of Willow's head. She observed the slight mar of the brow, the eyes wide and staring as that tireless brain tried to process and understand, the heat building between them. Buffy leaned in and suckled the pulse point at Willow's neck and reveled in the intake the breath, the sound of Willow's heart hammering wildly. She peppered kisses along slender column of flesh lightly nipping at the jaw-line.

"Buffy," the soft murmur was ragged with arousal and conflict ... "I don't unders ..."

"Say yes." Her hands lowered from the wall to rest on Willow's slender hips. She caressed with her fingers, while assaulting the flesh of her neck and throat with kisses and suckles.

"Buffy," Willow shuddered, arching so that her flesh was more accessible. "Yes."

A single word broke the damn, and there was the ripping of fabric. Buffy's body pressed against the slenderer one and slightly taller warm flesh, her mouth latching on to a pebbling nipple. They hadn't kissed. They would. But first, Buffy needed to mark, claim, possess what was hers.

She moved with feverish determination tasting, touching and then tucking the hem of the skirt into its own waist and sliding her hands into the waist of Willow's cute panties without preamble. She roared inwardly with satisfaction as Willow accepted her deep inside with hot, wet, pulsating want.

This was what she needed, who she needed. Wanted.

"God, Wills," Buffy moaned into her best friends ear. "I love you." She felt the quiet shock ripple through her friend at the admission. Felt that copious moisture multiply at the confession. And it felt like she'd waited a hundred years to fuck her best friend. To say those words. "I want you so much," she groaned and it felt like the words had been waiting, poised on her lips for an eternity.

Her fingers dipped in and out of slick heat, instinct setting her rhythm as she scored and mark flesh as her own. Sucking fleshy nipples, biting the roundness of the small breasts, sucking and biting until bruises formed. And she was so wet, just from touching Willow, just from fucking her that it felt like she was fucking her self, mirroring every grunt, every pant, every moan.

"Dear God, you feel so damned good." She would never get enough. "The things I wanna do to you."

"Oh god. Please don't stop."

"Never gonna happen." She was Buffy Summers the Slayer. And she was fucking her best friend against the door, imagining bending her over a gravestone, fucking her in a bathroom stall at the Bronze, tasting her in the rain. "Never."

When Buffy gave into her need to kiss her, the Slayer couldn't be tender ... had to own those lips, that mouth, that tongue. Make it all hers. Make Willow hers.

"Mine. Mine. Mine."

"Yes. Yes."

She laid claim to every part of the woman with her eyes. Body, flesh, heart and soul. Mine. And when she met those still confused eyes, glazed with passion and the awakening of truth, lips bruised and parted with pleasure sounds. Buffy felt the cold numbness that had settled within her soul give way to heat and warmth and comfort. She never saw it coming ... but it was here and it was hers and she'd be damned if she let it go.

Much later in the shower, her ministrations so much more tender but no lacking in passion, she kissed every single bruised, and marked flesh until her Witch was left with no doubt that she was loved, wanted and owned.


Aftermath

Morning saw new lovers awaken in each others arms, startled at finding themselves in such intimate position, but only for a moment, questions and uncertainties arising without voice as they met gazes a little shyly, waiting. Finally, they both smiled ... and then giggled, and then laughed until their sides ache as the held onto each other.

"Well ..." Willow finally spoke ... "That was ..."

"Unexpected?" Buffy teased. "Yeah," she confessed, "For me too."

"Buffy how ...?"

"Don't know." Buffy straddled her lover's waist, "Don't care. No looking back. 'K?" She glanced down at the teeth indent in Willow's breast. "That ... says you're mine." She smirked. "Don't even think of backing out now."

Willow chuckled, raising her finger to trace a similar bruise on Buffy's shoulder. "Wouldn't dream of it." They kissed lightly. "What are we gonna tell them."

"They'll figure it out." Buffy stood, held out a hand. "Come on, they're probably down there thinking one of us, if not both is either dead or in the hospital."

"How do you know?"

"Nobody's yelling about who's hogging the bathroom or who ate the last of the fruit loops."

So they dressed, wandered down the steps together a little lighter in steps than either of them had been in a long time. Shocked and relieved faces greeted them as they 'good morning-ed' the somber group. Xander rushed toward, looked both women over for damages, grabbed them up in a hug.

"Oh, thank god... we thought ... the way you left ... we were afraid ... we looked all over for you." He pulled back glaring at them in mock light scolding manner.

Buffy shrugged. "We've been here all night. Where the hell else did you expect us to go?"

"I don't know?" Xander studied them both, seeming a little hesitant about whatever he saw in their eyes. "The grave yard, maybe? Easier to bury the loser's body after the Wicca/Slayer Smack-down." Xander grinned but his expression was clearly one of relief and curiosity. "Want to clue us in on the 911? I mean you made a pretty intense witch-grab." He gestured at Willow with a nod, "And then made with the quick Slayer-exit." Xander waited. "If it wasn't a confrontation, which I'm ecstatic to here, then it must have been some hellmouthy trouble, right?"

Willow giggled. Ducked her head to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. She couldn't quite meet anyone's eyes not after what she and Buffy had spent the night doing ... and all the different ... who knew Buffy could be as creative in the girl-on-girl type girl-on-girl stuff?

And Willow could feel Spike and Kennedy burning holes through her, accusatory holes which were ... well the silent accusing type things was right on.

"So?" Xander waited. "Do us lowly troops get a clue in?"

Willow felt Buffy tense for a moment and then relax.

"Yeah," Buffy smiled. "You even get a vowel." She glanced over at Willow, linking an arm around the redhead's waist and then used her free hand to lift Willow's chin. Buffy stared into the most amazing eyes she'd ever seen, rejoiced in the return of life and vividness in them and the return of the sparkle that was so much a part of her bubbly friend. "We had some issues to settle."

"Issues?" Xander said the word the frown

"Uhm hum." Buffy drew the witch closer, her eyes on those soft lips. "A few decisions I've come to."

"Decisions?"

"Is there an echo?" Buffy smiled all the while pulling Willow closer until they were pressed front to front.

She moved her hand from Willow chin to grip a fist full of red hair at the back of her Witch's head and heard the soft moan as she tugged gently prompted the slightly taller woman to lower her head. Their lips met fusing in a kiss that would clear up any confusion over what exactly they had been doing the previous night or talking about. Buffy's mouth conquered and devoured and Willow's accepted and surrendered.

Want bloomed once again. Wet, heated, passionate. Fiery.

And Buffy found herself dangerously close to fucking her best friend again, in front of her other best friend, her former vampire lover, sister and Watcher and other Potentials.

She broke the kiss. Panting as harshly as Willow who was now flush from arousal. And Buffy felt a little dizzy over having that type of power over her friend.

She held Willow tight. And turned her intense gaze on Xander and then on the others as though expecting a challenge.

"Willow's mine. Deal." At that comment she directed her gaze at Spike and Kennedy. "And I'm ..." She turned a gentle smile to the redhead. "...I'm hers."

She dragged the redhead back up the stairs, leaving the others to stare at the spot they'd just vacated, each of those left behind shared the same thought, though none said it out loud.

Never saw that coming.