Title: Lighten Up
Pairing: Lightning/Vanille
Rating: T for sexual content and language
Words: 1,601
Song Inspiration: "Acquainted" - The Weeknd
Summary: Vanille gets Lightning to… lighten up.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters presented or mentioned in this work and am I not making money off their use. Just using them for writing practice.
A/N: Short Lanille fic. I'm pretty sad I don't see more of them. I wanted to write to the song so if you listen to that while reading, that'd be awesome. Otherwise, it's just some semi-OOC shenanigans and an overuse of ellipses. This is also posted to my tumblr and AO3. Enjoy!
Bass pounds in her ears, her chest , and eyes saccade to the rhythm. She barely sees anything, feels anything except for the warm body grinding in her lap. Her head lolls onto the back of the chair. Her vision's hazy, but her eyes meet emerald tinged with some red. She isn't the only one feeling it.
The girl atop her; her moves are… practiced but uncoordinated. Everything is just… sloppy at this point, wild, all over the place, yet slow. Yeah, everything's slow. …Why?
"Vanille. What's going-"
"Shhh…" Her hush blends in with a messy kiss. That's uncoordinated too, but it feels good, and Vanille bites her bottom lip. "You're high, Light. And so am I. So shush and enjoy it. And me."
Lightning receives another kiss, a careful one, ending with the subtle brush of Vanille's nose against hers. The rapid movement of her eyes slows, and she's able to focus on her high and the red hair inching away from her face. The grinding in her lap continues, but she doesn't remove her hungry gaze from Vanille's swaying hips, her upper half only clad in a loose plaid flannel and dark bra.
Vanille's hands roam Lightning, starting from her lips and neck and growing bolder the lower they travel. Lightning rolls her hips, sighing as the hand caresses her sports bra-clad chest and down her bare abdomen. Her head swims at how sensitive her skin is. If this was Vanille's ultimate plan of getting her to loosen up a bit, she won't deny that it's working so far.
The music keeps playing and Lightning focuses on that, mentally matching Vanille's gyrations to the heavy beat and lyrics. The song places her in a comfortable trance, her attention kept by a nimble redhead who turns around to grind her ass in Lightning's lap. Fuck.
Her hand reaches out, almost like it has a mind of its own, and rests on Vanille's hip. Vanille grabs it, guides it, times it with the rhythm of her dance. She looks back, pleased, probably happy that Lightning hasn't recoiled by now.
If she's this far in, then why quit? The empty bong and bowl on the side table are already a testament to how far she's gone. Hell, she can't even remember how many times they reloaded in the last… however many minutes it was since their session. Whatever.
Speaking of… gone. The more time that passes, the better she feels. It's a downward spiral – or upward, maybe? – into pure bliss. She feels everything and nothing all at once. Vanille's skin touching hers, how much weight they both put into the chair, just how heavy the air around them is. Jackhammering heartbeats mingling, how long a touch lingers.
Her eyes dart to a clock for confirmation. Barely 10 minutes have passed, and it's seemed like an eternity. The first loop of the song hasn't even ended… or has it? What does it matter, really? She's lax and hungry, and her core throbs, and she's so beyond wanting to fuck right now. And… she's losing rational train of thought.
Vanille's an expert. Keeps her composure. She slows down, bit by bit, probably savoring the satisfied and predatory expression on Lightning's face. She turns, faces the soldier. Her nimble fingers guide Lightning's hand closer to her breasts. Her lips form a lazy smile.
Lightning doesn't hesitate to expose Vanille's perky breasts, already hard from beneath their confines. They fit into her palms well, and she wonders why she's never bothered to do this before. Her mind races a mile a minute, and suddenly she's picturing fucking Vanille in every position over every inch of the girl's apartment, fuck what Fang might say about it. They weren't even dating. And neither were Serah and Snow. But that's beside the point (and, Etro, what did they have to do with Vanille?).
"You gonna stare, or play with 'em?"
Vanille had leaned in, brushing their lips together while Lightning remained lost in thought. She glances at the clock again. Only a minute has passed this time.
"Play," Lightning whispers back. And in seconds, her hands go to work, pinching and kneading and rolling.
Vanille's forehead knocks her own. Eyes flutter shut, nose brushes hers. Hands cover Lightning's. She seems stuck in limbo, between wanting to move and wanting to be at Lightning's mercy. But she chooses submission and allows Lightning to continue worshipping her.
Lightning initiates, and they dance around feathering lips together. No kiss. Not yet. But that's okay. Vanille has more than enough to keep Lightning's attention from roaming again. Maybe enough.
Lightning wanders, mouth trailing down Vanille's chin, her soft neck. Teeth emerge and drag lower. She replaces her hands with an open mouth to one breast, teasing and running her tongue over the nipple. Vanille twitches. A good sign, as she leans further into Lightning's mouth. She presses into the soldier's mane; Lightning feels Vanille gasping against her hair. It's sharp and heavy in her ears. Labored. Eager.
Vanille's grinding starts up again; Lightning moves with her, right on time with the bass of the music. When she's had her fill with one, Lightning shifts her attention to the other breast. But her movements; they're slow, lingering. Her lips drag, saliva marking a trail to the other breast. Her tongue encircles the nipple before she nips at it with her lips.
"Uhn, Lightning…"
Vanille's voice echoes in her ear, in her mind, forever. It's a sweet sound, dripping with hot desire and tinged with want. Every thought she had earlier circulates through her mind once again, and goddess, this needs to go further than it is right now. Lightning's hunger nears its breaking point.
Leaning back, Vanille gathers herself long enough to make eye contact with Lightning. The connection is long and drawn out, feral. Vanille keeps it, and Lightning follows suit, creeping a hand upwards to grasp Vanille's ass. The Oerban flashes a smile. Her own hand reaches up to cup one breast, lingering around to play with one nipple. Even in her clouded state, Lightning can tell she's up to something.
That hand hovers lower, and Lightning follows it with her eyes. It dips down, teasing the waistband of Vanille's panties. She lowers them, a flash, just enough for Lightning to get a glimpse of short auburn hair.
Lightning narrows her eyes. "Tease."
Vanille chuckles, shoving her hand into her frilly, pink underwear. She plays with herself, keeping Lightning's attention.
As much as she'd like to look all day, Lightning isn't one to stop and wait for an opportunity to pass her up. With all the strength she's gained from Guardian Corps., she leans Vanille backwards, one hand at her back to support her. Vanille yelps at the motion (thank Etro she's flexible), but doesn't fight it.
Lightning seizes her chance. Moving forward proves difficult with her altered perception of space, but she makes do to shower Vanille's bare torso with open-mouthed kisses. Vanille's moans register in her brain, saved and damn near bookmarked for later, if she remembers this when she comes down from her high. She dips her tongue into Vanille's navel, eliciting a moan laced with frustration. The lower Lightning travels, the more pissed off Vanille sounds. And goddess is that such a fucking wonderful string of moans to hear.
Vanille finds the strength to lift herself back up. The expression on her face reads equal parts horny and upset. Lightning doesn't care; at this point, all she wants is to fuck this girl back into the old world.
Removing her hand, Vanille rubs her fingers on Lightning's lips, studying her features.
Lightning licks her essence off her finger and cleans her lips. The taste rams her straight into overdrive, and she hopes to Etro that she can still taste it after her high is gone. The hand on Vanille's back lowers to tug on the girl's underwear. It's a hungry and eager pull, gnawing at her own core. She wants to fuck. Now.
"Okay," Vanille whispers, appeasing. And she lifts herself, just enough for Lightning to help slide the garment off both legs (which seems to take forever) and drop it to the floor.
Vanille's heady scent hits Lightning like a damn truck. It mingles and mixes with the already heavy and pungent stench of the room, driving Lightning insane.
Lightning leans back, head resting against the top of the chair, as her eyes rove over Vanille's near-naked and blushing figure. All rational thought was beyond gone at this point. She couldn't settle down and contemplate a next course of action, just admire and worship. Even that sounded like too much thinking.
Images and fantasies flash through her mind on autopilot, taking random room and scenarios and placing them together with Lightning and Vanille at the center of the action. She sees herself bending Vanille over the couch, taking her on the kitchen table, the apartment balcony, the bathroom counter. Even riskier places like the parking garage or her car do not escape the cycling of scenes through Lightning's head.
Lightning feels lips brush against hers again, and of course, it's Vanille breaking her from her clouded reverie. She takes a glance at Vanille's swollen outer lips before returning to bloodshot emerald eyes.
Vanille shifts, attempting to put herself more on display. "You gonna stare, or play with me?"
Lightning glides her thumb over Vanille's clit, catching some of her wetness to bring to her lips. The look Vanille gives – open mouth, narrow eyes, and bit lip – is just enough motivation for Lightning to give her answer.
"Play."