Author's Note: Hey all, there were a lot of fanfiction ideas running through my head last month, and now that the semester's winding down I have more time to write them.
This one took some time to polish. I wouldn't call myself the best at lemons, though I've written the theme quite a lot over these past ten months. What was also hard about this was that it's dom!Blake. I can hardly take dom!Blake seriously in the slightest. Therefore, this story slipped into OOC territory, something veteran readers know I try desperately to avoid. Regardless...enjoy.
UPDATE 12/12: You guys, I couldn't take a few of the things in here. Minor changes have been made, and looking at the fic now it's even more ridiculously OOC than I'd previously thought.
UPDATE 1/6/15: This story was driving me crazy. I gave it another revision. Still wouldn't call it good, but it's an improvement.
UPDATE 4/1/15: o MG you guys, I revisited this in a masochistic mood. This is without contest the absolute worst story on my account. This isn't even an April Fool's prank, I really mean it. I can't take it. It's like, straight out of a bad romance novel, seriously.
FORGIVE ME, FANFICTION GODS
PS: Changed a lot in attempt to salvage.
Blake was restless.
It was something she didn't have trouble keeping secret, until the time was right. If there were an opportunity for her and Yang to steal away somewhere she'd lend the tiniest touch to the blond's arm, flick her head, or lay upon her a look so strong and sudden it only meant one thing. Most of the time, Yang obliged. The rest of the time, Blake could expect it sooner or later.
The unconventional locations were a bonus. More than once she and Yang had found themselves pressed close together, lips tight as they waited for the people who'd wandered into earshot to move on. It was terrifying, the idea of being caught, but also wickedly delightful.
And oh, was Yang wicked. Sometimes she'd keep going, pinning Blake's hands in place and looking on with a grin that gleamed in the dark as Blake fought to hold down the whimpers. It was a loss of power both infuriating and liberating, and it was just what Blake wanted at that very moment.
Her other teammates were absent due to a study session for an upcoming test. Blake had thrown Yang a look once they'd left, one Yang strangely winced at before nodding. Blake turned in response, drifting her fingers over her partner's arm before leaving. At the dorm room she'd fussed in front of the mirror for a few seconds, then went to wait on her bed. She hoped her hair fell over her shoulders in a way that would make Yang stagger, crashing onto Blake and first biting hard enough to leave a mark.
Someone stopped outside the door. Blake lay patient, palm under chin, gaze fixed on the doorknob turning to the left…
…and Yang stumbled in, the door slamming when she fell onto it. She certainly staggered, to the dresser, and flopped over it with an arm bent over her back. "Ugh," she said, and Blake paused.
"What is it?"
"My back," said Yang. "God, it hurts."
"The reason being…?"
"Come on, Blake," said Yang, her teeth grit. "I'm not exactly a thirty-two A, now am I?"
She'd tried to say it in good humor, but her pain strangled the effort. "I gotta get up to my bed." She moved her other arm to join the first, hands trailing beneath her top. "There," she breathed when her bra unlatched, and Blake's eyes widened at the effect it produced. "Help me up, okay?" asked Yang a moment later, lifting from the dresser.
"No," said Blake.
"What?"
"I want you to sit with me."
"Blake, please, I can't today, it's really acting up—"
"I said," repeated Blake, "I want you to sit with me."
It was a tone she'd never used before, and it surprised her. Yang hesitated before starting toward their bunk.
She settled gingerly on the bed, turning onto her side. "Sorry," she muttered again, after Blake sat up.
"Where does it hurt?" said Blake.
"Here," she said, hand on the spot where her bra would connect. "And here," at the end of her spine.
She felt Blake's hands on her shoulders. "What're you doing?" she said as Blake moved her on her stomach. The answer came a second later, when Blake's thumbs dug into her back. Yang cried out in surprise, then relief, when the rest of Blake's fingers started to ease her discomfort. Blake carried on silently, watching her partner sink into the sheets.
It wasn't enough. Blake leaned in to concentrate, and a blink later realized she'd slowly fallen all the way onto Yang. She looked at the tiny pinpricks of sweat that had formed on Yang's neck. Blake left a nip on her ear, ever so slight, and returned to her area of focus. A moment later she took off the scarf, then unzipped Yang's top and, when met without resistance, slid the whole thing above her arms. The bra went with it, leaving Yang exposed beneath her.
"Blaaaaake," she said, making their minds cloud, "it still hurts."
Blake kept going. Yang melted under her, rumbling deep into the pillow. She'd be lost if she weren't kept awake. Blake leaned down again and, casting another gaze at Yang's neck, kissed her right where it hurt.
"Blake. Oh my god," said Yang, and at that moment Blake knew she had power.
She held down Yang's shoulders to continue the kiss. Yang lifted from the pillow, her voice much lower than usual. "Blake. The rest."
First she brushed below Yang's sides, treading over her breasts to check for progress. They were round and plump and ready. Blake felt them, amazed at the suppleness. Then she went slowly down Yang's front, distantly savoring the tautness of her stomach.
She paused at Yang's waist. Should I do it? And when Yang wriggled she did, slipping under her shorts to play with her core. Yang arched into her, already pulsing enough to soak through the fabric. Blake kept her other palm on the sheets, new to this.
"Blake," groaned Yang. She'd lifted on her hands and knees. "Blake, you're so heavy."
Blake pitched, gasping. She grabbed at the sheets, bending hard with her elbow to lean back up. "Blake," said Yang, with a hint of a grunt, "not so fast."
Blake reined in, letting them compose. They eased into a rhythm. When Blake slowed again to adjust herself, Yang whimpered. A rush of heat flew over the Faunus, and she realized she was sweating under her clothes.
Her legs remained around Yang's as the blouse came off. She dropped it near the headboard where Yang could see, satisfied when Yang moaned.
"Take it off," she said, though Blake was ahead of her, peeling down those purple leggings.
She waited before taking off the rest of Yang's clothes. The sight made her shake, and she fought away her every instinct in order to first knead out the pain in Yang's lower back. Yang buckled, making her jump. Shakily Blake put one hand between her own legs.
"Blake. Harder," said Yang, feeling the pressure lighten from her back.
Blake was done taking orders. "Wait your turn," she said, eyes shut.
"But Blaaaaaaaake—"
A hand clamped around her mouth. Yang cried out. There was a sweet scent nearby, and when her gaze trailed down she saw something dripping down Blake's fingers. Her head turned to look Blake in the eye, both of them smiling.
She felt a tap from those narrow nails. Yang felt her breath on Blake's palm and put her tongue out for the tiniest lick. Blake pushed into her, silent. After Yang made the most muffled of grunts, Blake parted her lips and slowly probed inside.
Yang's mouth was warm, wet, and soft. Blake felt the tips of her teeth grinding on her, gently, and she was gentle in return. Still, she couldn't help but smirk at the situation. Yang Xiao Long, brawler extraordinaire, outgoing party girl, and Blake had her at the heels of her feet.
Blake slid out, savoring the pull of Yang's lips as she exited. She curled the arm that was under Yang's ribs and leaned down again. This time her eyes were closed when she spoke.
"I'm gonna make you sweat."
She seized Yang and started shoving. Yang tried to quell her sounds, with little success; despite the fervor Blake noted her better capability to remain quiet. The smugness made her claw into Yang's sides.
The air was growing dense. By this time Blake would normally have been flipped on her back, clamping onto Yang as the blond ravished her. She'd feel the weight of skin on skin, hear the words from Yang's lips that made her so shocked and so excited. Now it was her hair draping over Yang's face, and the only words were Blake's name, over and over, lost along with Yang's thoughts.
Blake heard a strange low noise, and she realized she'd been growling. After one final, long thrust she dropped, making Yang buckle. The blond's breasts smacked her arm and Blake washed over. Her arms clenched into fists until she regained the poise to turn Yang over without hurting her. She was still rough, and Yang yelped. For a split second Blake paused at the vulnerability beneath her.
"Blake," said Yang.
It was a whine, one that rippled all the way down Blake's spine, and she lunged. She stopped an inch above Yang's neck and didn't move. "Blake," Yang said, an airy, rasping squeak.
Blake wedged into the crook between Yang's ear and shoulder, biting down. She was deep and controlled, but not constrained. Yang twitched as lips made their way down her neck, her collarbone, the top of her chest….there they were, right above her, and when she looked up she saw a gaze so penetrating she could not help but squirm.
"Please," she whispered.
Blake put her hands down. Yang gripped the sheets. They waited another second, and then Blake dipped.
The noise Yang made when Blake enveloped her was sheer naturalism, something from deep inside her. The thumps she made were slow and heavy. Blake watched Yang's face when she licked the nipple, running her hands lightly over as she went. "Oh god, Blake, Blake," Yang said, and Blake edged closer. Her arms went under. Yang groaned loudly at the pressure on her back, the sound of her muscles creaking into place.
Blake was finishing up the other breast. She buried her nose between them, felt the perspiration she'd promised. She breathed in, and a moment later Yang's hand rested on her back.
"Turn over," Blake commanded, shifting Yang onto her knees once more. She got into place and started shoving faster and more furiously than before. She smiled, showing all her teeth, while Yang bucked and kicked and surrendered.
"Blake—" she crashed onto her elbows, and Blake grabbed her hair.
"I didn't say I was done."
Yang pitched into the sheets. Blake ground in more, loving to see her compromised. She threaded farther into Yang's hair, not too roughly, and brought her head back by the roots.
"Good girl," she said.
This was the last, and they collapsed. A long exhale left Yang's mouth. The mattress sank as they relaxed.
Blake's fingers were still around Yang's hair. She spoke from between her teeth, "Are you feeling better?" and Yang nodded.
They weren't rested enough to say any more. Blake kissed Yang and slowly rose. Dimly she was beginning to feel an exhausted satisfaction.
They heard a click. Blake looked back to see Ruby and Weiss standing in the hallway, completely speechless.
Yang's hair fell from Blake's fingers. The Faunus had not lowered her hand. Yang didn't move either, and Weiss silently closed the door.
Blake turned back to Yang. They stared at the wall, and heard Ruby's voice come muffled from the other end of the door.
"I told you."