Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIII; any characters, events or locations belong to Square Enix and their affiliates. No money is made off this work of fiction. There, properly disclaimed, no?
Rating: NC-17, for mature content; femmeslash and handcuffs.
Pairing: Flight; Fang/Lightning
Original Prompt: Fang/Lightning; angry wall sex, with Fang initiating—Lightning and Fang are a couple, but Lightning seems to be holding back. "You don't even care, do you?"
Author's Note: Hm, one of my better works, if I do say so myself. Although it's a bit…nonsensical in some parts, not as flowing as I would have liked, I'm still proud of it. For my first sex scene between two women, or in general, I think I did okay—although it's maybe not as descriptive as most of you would have liked. Written for the FFXIII_Kink over on LJ; maybe not exactly what they were asking for (it turned more vanilla-y towards the end), but oh well.
Dissonance
Lightning could not be sure how or when it happened. One moment, she was passing Fang in the hallway of their shared apartment in Bodhum, the next she was pressed against the wall, her girlfriend's hand wrapped loosely around her neck, wrists pinned to the wall above. There was nothing loving or sexual about the tight hold—just south of painful, enough to make Lightning squirm uncomfortably—just ferocity.
"Fang, what—"
The Pulsian huntress cut her off with a forceful, dominating kiss. Again, there was nothing tender about the way their lips clashed, bruising in intensity, the insistent tongue levering her mouth open. As Fang's tongue plundered her mouth, lapping at every hidden crevasse, Lightning felt her vision begin to blur. The hold around her throat was tightening, and black was slowly swelling across her sight.
Abruptly, Fang pulled back, gazing seriously, heatedly, at the soldier. "Nothing. Not a damned thing," she mumbled to herself.
"F-Fang…" Lightning coughed, her arms tugging at the hold, her eyes watering. "Can't…can't breathe."
The hold lessened ever so slightly, enough for the eldest Farron to get in a few gasps of air. Fang forgotten as her head collapsed back against the wall, desperately attempting to fill her deprived lungs. Her throat was burning, and her chest was heaving, but Fang had yet to let go. Anger began to rise in her, at Fang's callous treatment.
"What the hell was that?" she growled lowly, still gasping.
Fang was lording over her, the few inches she had over Lightning suddenly turning to what felt like a few feet. Lightning could not be sure when Fang had gotten a hold of her military-issue handcuffs; the sound of them clicking closed, of steel on skin, binding her wrists together, was unmistakable. Looking up, she found her assessment correct.
Blue eyes turned practically glacial, redirecting her eyes to her girlfriend. Then again, after this was all over, Lightning wasn't so sure if she would be able to call Fang that anymore. This was unacceptable, and Fang knew that.
"Stop it."
Fang's eyes met hers once more, narrowed. "No, you stop it. Cut that crap, Farron."
"The hell are you talking about!" Lightning shouted, in a rare show of anger. Usually, she could only muster up a sense of annoyance at half of the things Fang did, but fury was slowly building in her every pore. Her arms strained to break Fang's grip, and she tried to push Fang off her, but it was a useless effort—Fang was, always would be, physically stronger. For all she had speed and grace, it was nothing if she was pinned.
"You don't even realize…" Fang sounded frustrated. "Won't even tell me. So I'll make you."
Lightning flinched as Fang's head came closer, expecting another painful kiss. Her eyes narrowed to a mere squint, tension building even further in her already stony muscles. But, Fang surprised her simply passing her lips by, placing a long, lingering, almost gentle kiss on her cheek.
Fang toyed with the lobe of the soldier's ear, relishing in the small quivers rolling through Light's body. Now, for once, she was finally in control. She hated that it was only when things devolved down to sex that Lightning would truly let her take over, but if that was what it took to get it through her Maker damned skull, then Fang would do it. She would take the soldier so hard, she wouldn't be able to walk properly for weeks.
"I'll show you."
Lightning didn't have time to process Fang's words, or the meaning behind them, as the Pulsian woman's head descended to her neck. She tried to struggle away, but Fang's grip was immovable, iron. Her bound wrists jerked fruitlessly, and Fang's grip around them tightened a fraction. Lightning whimpered as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her, her bones creaking in protest.
"I'll show you."
Fang didn't nip or tease her girlfriend's neck, no. This time, it wasn't about teasing or dancing around things. This time it was about proving herself, her claim over her younger lover. And that's exactly what she did. Teeth upon skin, like her namesake, broke ruthlessly through, lapping up the blood as it was wept; it was erotic in a completely new way, a taste Fang was instantly addicted to, latching her mouth onto the certainly bruised skin.
Pinned between the wall and the warm body, Lightning let out a startled, pained gasp. Her mind was a whirlwind, unable to keep up with the events as they unfolded. She had never seen Fang so angry before, not even when Orphan tortured Vanille. In some ways, it was amazing to know she held this much influence over the huntress, and in others, it was completely and utterly terrifying. She'd never held that measure of control before, not even with her sister.
"You bitch…" Fang snarled lowly, tearing herself away from Lightning's neck. "You complete bitch. You don't even care how you make me feel, how much you make me want, need. Do you? Do you!"
Lightning didn't answer. Her cornflower eyes locked with dark ones.
Fang's pupils had expanded with her fury, cloaking the green she knew they were, and it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger, of a monster, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect. Instincts, honed by years of hunting monsters, called her fight or flight system into being. However, the look Fang was giving her…Lightning could no longer even think of fighting. It was like she was prey, and Fang was a hungry Behemoth.
"Fang…I—"
It was sharp, stinging, and Lightning felt her head whip back, painfully colliding with the wall as Fang slapped her. Her eyes were hurt as she gazed up at her lover, who in the past had always been playful, yet gentle with her. Eyes cold, hair wild, snarling—this was not the Fang she knew.
"No." Fang commanded. "You don't talk."
In all her past relationships, which had been few and far between, Lightning had always been the one in control. Yet, there was something about what Fang was doing to her, in her dominance. She was ashamed to feel a low burning, churning through her stomach like warped butterflies. It was a tingling she knew, one Fang had often inspired in her.
Lightning felt the pain spring in her cheek, and felt her eyes water slightly, though not from the slap. She pushed her tears back, like a true soldier. The thought that she was…she was getting off on this, it was repulsive to her. Lightning had never thought herself a masochist, but her body was responding in traitorous ways, like it always did with Fang. In much the same fashion that her control over Fang could terrify her, Fang's control over her was equally as confusing, as scary.
"Oh," Fang cooed, trailing a tongue up to her ear again. "You're gonna squirm."
In one swift movement, her shirt was torn from her. The sound of seams ripping, coupled with the cool air hitting her torso was an abrupt shock to Lightning's senses. Low and drawn out, Lightning moaned despite herself. Fang had never been this rough before. The remains of her shirt were ripped from her, thrown carelessly over a toned shoulder.
"Ah!"
Her bra, an inky number that she knew Fang loved, was quick to follow.
Lightning was painfully aware of Fang's gaze on her exposed breasts, the predatory stare from earlier multiplied tenfold once the huntress actually set eyes on her supple flesh. Fang had always loved watching her, touching her; her chest had always been one of Fang's favorite parts, or so the huntress had told her.
With each of her breaths, the creamy breasts rose up and down, rosy nipples erect and begging for attention. Attention being exactly what Fang had in mind, the Pulsian snaked her arm down from where it had come to rest on Light's shoulder, tracing a searing path towards the enticing globes. It was with baited breath that Lightning watched, past struggles forgotten, shivering as a long-fingered hand trailed through the valley between them both.
Slowly, a thumb whispered across the underside of a waiting nipple, barely even there.
"Shit."
Fang tilted her head, her hand stopping. "Hm? Did you say somethin'? Because I distinctly remember telling you not to talk."
Lightning threw her head to the side, asymmetrical fuchsia hair flying around her face, as she let out a loud cry. Her fringe flopped further down her face, blending with the soft flush that had spread across her cheeks. It was not easy to get the soldier to blush, and Fang noticed with a grin, twisting a nipple further, enough to be called harsh. Who knew Sunshine got off on pain?
Fang could see the soldier slowly melting in her hands like putty. Gazing deep into cornflower eyes, Fang snarled quietly. Lightning was relaxing, though there was still noticeable tension in her muscles, still a wall in those beautiful eyes. Now that just wouldn't do. Smirking to herself, Fang dipped her head down, taking the other bud into her mouth, giving a rough suckle.
Lightning gave a sharp gasp, her body jolting forward. "Oh…"
It was so easy to arouse the young woman, for all she was stoic in other ways, Fang reflected. Foreplay was usually something Fang loved, teasing the soldier until she was ready to burst—that wasn't what she was doing now. If asked, Fang would have called it preparing. Ensuring Lightning was ready for her punishment. It was just a precursor to the main event, more of something for herself then for the soldier.
"You okay there, Princess?" Fang purred. "Sounds like you're enjoying yourself."
Lightning didn't respond, and through a curtain of pink hair, Fang caught sight of a set of glazed eyes. It was like Lightning was both there and in another world entirely. Another wave of irritation and bitterness swept Fang up as she realized the technique she was using. It was taught to soldiers to distance themselves from reality, to take themselves to a mental "happy place" if they were under a lot of mental strain. She had seen Light use it a lot, back during their days as l'Cie, just leaving her body on a sort of auto-pilot.
It, Fang decided, was definitely not enough.
Releasing the nipple she had been continually tweaking, Fang reached her hand up to give the woman a hard backhand—the effect was immediate. Glassy eyes came back into focus, blinking rapidly, watering against the pain Fang was dishing out. The possibility her cheek would be bruised by the end of it all was very high.
"Don't," Fang's voice was dark. "You can't run from this, Princess. Not anymore."
Lightning felt the soldier inside her react to the tone, and her fingers, still pinned above, twitched towards her sheath, where Omega sat. If only she could break out of the woman's grip, if only for a second. Fang seemed to catch the motion, and the downward tilt of her eyes, and the dark eyes narrowed.
"Still got some fight left in ya, I see." Fang's frown turned into a chesire grin. "Well don't worry. We'll get rid of that soon enough."
Lightning had nothing to lose. "Fang, don't do this. Please."
"Don't even go there. I've had more then enough of your bullshit."
Lightning wanted to cry out her confusion, her anger, but she just let her head flop uselessly to the side. "It's time for you to finally be honest with yourself, and if this is the only way…"
Slim fingers, nimble from years of using a lance, danced down and around the hem of her too-short skirt. It wasn't as if Fang hadn't been there before, but with the sudden violence of the encounter, despite her arousal, Lightning felt a certain sense of violation flow through her. She had heard all the horror stories at work about rape, though admittedly it was usually at the hands of a male, but these events in mind, Lightning could sort of sympathize with those victims.
Before she knew it, Fang was at her ear again, hissing like an angry snake.
"I'll make you feel," she growled, every bit the feral beast. "Maker help me, if you won't admit it willingly, I'll make you."
Lightning let out a quiet, low cry. Fang had hooked her hand into her skirt, tugging it ruthlessly down, and with it her shorts and panties went. It was like before, shivers racking her body as cool zephyrs hit her heated skin. It was unexpected, so unlike the Fang who usually took her time teasing, toying with the soldier until she was ready to beg—it was the work of this seemingly new personality, of the anger and betrayal Fang had slowly built, unbeknownst to her.
Callous hands settled firmly on the back of her right thigh, squeezing just a little too roughly. Like her victim's namesake, Fang was upon her in an instant, tongue delving into the crevasse between Light's neck and shoulder, where blood had pooled in the brief moments of inattention. A culmination of pain and pleasure rose in the soldier, and she let out a choked moan, her voice breaking.
"You say I'm your girlfriend, that you're committed to this," Fang murmured against pale, bruised skin. "Yet, I feel like you barely pay me any mind. I think you've said three words to me today."
Lightning struggled, though weakly. "Look, Fang, I'm sorry."
"Maybe you are, maybe not," Fang smirked against a pale neck. "But either way, you've been a little neglectful, Princess. So lay down and take your punishment like a good girl."
"You can't do this to me—"
"—says who? The law?" Fang guessed. "Because, you know, I've never been good at followin' those."
Almost as if to show her defiance, Fang's hand slowly made a winding trail up Light's thigh. Nails, curved and sharp, scratched a pink path until it came to rest against the most intimate part of her, the part she had only shared with three others her whole life. There, it almost seemed to hesitate for a second, before diving right in.
The soldier wasn't as moist as Fang would have preferred, as usual, but under the circumstances, it was expected. So, with a barely audible grunt of annoyance, and not further pause, the Pulsian hammered her hand straight inside Light's center.
A scream rung out through their semi-private Bodhum home, and Fang was glad that their neighbours were at work, too busy to come over and interrupt what may be a vital moment in their lives. Especially considering Lightning was a well known Sergeant, and was definitely screaming bloody murder. Fang could feel a few small blobs of blood dribble over her fingers, but pushed away the heavy guilt. This was for a greater cause.
It had shone through when Lightning had help her fight Bahamut, had kept her from giving up. It had been there when she became Ragnarok. It had been there when she had come back, ready to start a new life. Lightning loved her, Fang knew, and yet…the soldier wouldn't show it, stoic to the end.
It's all for her own good, Fang told herself. There's no other way.
Barely allowing the soldier a moment to adjust, Fang set off at a gruelling pace, her insides twisting as whatever struggles Lightning may have had faded, her strength sapped. She hung there like a ragdoll, simply allowing Fang her cruel wants, needs.
"Go ahead, Sunshine," Fang hissed. "Tell me this means nothing to you. That I mean nothing to you!"
Lightning looked away, her expression twisted. Pain and pleasure rushing through her in equal amounts, as loath as she was to admit it. Another moan tore itself from her throat.
"But you can't, can you?" Fang continued, hands slamming harder inside, ruthless. "You never could lie, Princess. Not to me."
Fang had coaxed one of Lightning's muscular thighs between her own, grinding down hard and fast. She pressed her body tighter against Light's, smooshing her between herself and the wall. The arm holding Light's wrists to the wall tugged them down, looping them over her shoulders, no longer fearing a violent reaction.
She panted against the soldier's smooth skin, her tongue swiping out every now and then to have a taste. Around them, the scent of sweat and sex filled the hallway. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside the soldier because, after one particularly nasty mark was left on her neck, Light began to react again. Her moans rose higher and higher, and her hips pumped into the hard thrusts.
Fang's fingers twirled and danced inside her continuously, slickened by arousal and blood, and soft noises were made with each movement. Despite the brutality of the penetration, Fang's movements were carefully considered, made to produce the most pleasure. It was as if everything had turned from fight to sex, all in a single instance.
"What do you feel, Light? Tell me."
Lightning just moaned, her voice breaking. "Ah, Fang…"
Above her, the Pulsian huntress was grinding harder than ever on her thigh. She could feel the heat of Fang's skin, of her arousal, moving along her thigh. It was slowly making everything inside her reach a fever pitch. Through the rush of blood in her veins, like fire, it took her a moment to understand Fang's words.
"Say it. Say it!"
Lightning shuddered briefly, desperate to achieve the release she oh, so craved. The need overrode all else, all logical thought, as Fang brought her to the precipice, dangerously tilting—all her fears, worries and misgivings were gone. In thought's place was feeling, swelling within her like an ocean, all consuming. In one moment, it had all become clear. She knew exactly what Fang wanted from her.
"Fang, I…" Lightning lent in close. "I—oh, Maker—I love you."
And just like that, the damn built over Fang's emotions overflowed, and she let out a wild howl, burying her teeth in Light's neck once more. It hit them both, hard and fast, true pleasure built and released, running rampant in their quivering bodies. For what felt like eternity, it burned through them both, scorching through their veins.
Ripping, tearing, pain. A hand slammed into the wall. Lightning winced as the drywall gave way under Fang's fist, buckling and shattering mere inches from her head. It was not like her, but as Fang buried her head into the curve of her neck, Lightning could not repress her whimper, amongst the waves of pleasure still flowing. There was a lot of things going on that night that were not like her, like either of them.
"Oh, Maker, Light…" Fang groaned.
Together they slid down the wall, Fang's fist tugged painfully from it, and collapsed together on the creamy carpet. Fang allowed Light to move her arms from around her shoulders, though they were still bound by the handcuffs. The huntress rested her head against Light's sweaty, naked stomach, trying to calm her breathing.
Lightning grimaced at the pain flowing through her, could feel droplets of blood leaking onto the ground, no doubt to leave a stain. Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to care. In fact, she didn't even care that she had no doubt missed work for that day—Amodar wouldn't care, he would probably rejoice.
They laid there for a long moment, collapsed across the ground together, motionless except for the erratic rise and fall of their chests. It was Lightning who moved first, shuffling so Fang could see her bound, rubbed-raw wrists.
"I hope you realized that, once I get out of these, I'm going to separate your head from your body."
"I love you?" Fang grinned.
Lightning shook her head. "Idiot."