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English
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Part 3 of Mafia Blake AU
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2014-05-12
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7,896
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1/1
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Bind

Summary:

What does trust look like when there's a murderer in your bed? Set about a year after Attaque au Fer.

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Weiss was nervous, even if this had been her idea.

The planning was weeks in the making, not only because she barely had time to sleep amidst meetings, foiled sabotage, and the ongoing threat of riots across the Dust quarries of Vale, but because the unknown had a habit of trying to kill her, if not destroy everything she stood for. Perhaps the sentiment shouldn’t have applied to an intimate endeavor, although it was difficult to convince herself of that when Blake had spent so long as a chaotic variable in the center of her life, concealing a dark past in one hand and violent revelations in the other.

She was thankful the Faunus hadn’t protested the delay, content to continue what they already had in stolen moments. So much passed between them in silence, through glances and brief touches, the mornings Blake braided her hair or Weiss picked out a particular tie to make those golden eyes shine. Communication was key; it was what kept them from rattling the windows by shouting across the dinner table, from that hard knowing look in Blake’s eyes that could stop a Grimm in its tracks. They talked in bed before slumber claimed them, in the shower whenever Weiss could stop herself from memorizing those tattoos all over again. Privacy was a commodity she could only buy in minutes when there were so many knives ready to plunge into the ever-growing target on her back.

Yet somehow she had managed to trade a pair of horrifically early mornings for three hours in the evening, more than enough time to spare — she hoped. Even with such a shining window of opportunity, Weiss hesitated as soon as the chef and his assistants disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving a lacquered tray of gunkanmaki as the awkward centerpiece between her and Blake. The Faunus took the absence of small talk in stride, picking up the set of silver-tipped chopsticks provided and starting to partition the rolls out between their plates.

She’d kick herself if she spent the entire meal staring at the arrangement of the food — bright orange roe, oysters from the nearby coast — rather than say something. Weiss had learned to bear Blake’s rejection far better than her own personal hang-ups.

“Do you remember what we spoke of earlier?” A vague opening to be sure, but enough to get the Faunus’ attention.

Blake chewed for a moment, brow raising in curiosity before the bite was swallowed down with a sip of ice-cold water. “Escorting another reporter down to the mines?”

“No, I already made that call. It’s arranged for next week.” Weiss’ teeth worried at her lower lip. “About…what I wanted to try.”

Avoidance and euphemisms had been why it had taken her so long to bring up the subject in the first place. Even flush with afterglow in the Faunus’ arms, her blood quickening with every touch, Weiss found her inhibitions had a habit of asserting themselves at just the wrong moment. Blake spoke very frankly about sex — just like every topic — and while Weiss liked to think she had taken to the Faunus’ education with aplomb, there were still a few gaps that went undiscussed between them. She understood why; the more complicated the logistics, the more she felt the need to control the situation, and some acts were less forgiving of that than others.

Blake’s upper ears twitched, the reflex Weiss had learned to associate with surprise. “Of course. I thought you might have changed your mind.”

“No, I—” A hint of heat rose to her face. “—I handled the details more than a month ago.”

The Faunus’ smile was a rare gift. Even when the White Fang had ceased the worst of their assaults on Schnee property and retreated to lick their wounds, Blake’s general mood remained much the same, rarely wavering away from blunt stoicism except to indulge in bouts of melancholy. Weiss knew it was simply the state of things while Blake lived openly as a traitor; spending too much time accustomed to the idea of being executed would put a damper on anyone’s warmer feelings. So she drank in that split second flash of white teeth, eyes bright with what seemed like mischief, and felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders.

“Whenever you’d like.” Blake said, plucking another seaweed-wrapped roll from the tray.

“This evening’s free.” Weiss followed the words with a long sip of tea, hoping she didn’t appear overly eager. “I made sure of it.”

The Faunus frowned. “I thought you had a conference call with the copyright lawyers.”

“It’s been rescheduled.” Weiss picked up her chopsticks, avoiding the urge to stare down at her plate instead of Blake’s face. “I wasn’t trying to make it a surprise. The timing just fell together.”

“As surprises go, I’ve had worse.” Blake replied wryly.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, but Weiss felt the growing thread of expectation between them. Blake kept eye contact for a few seconds longer than necessary every time their stares aligned, and she had to wonder what thoughts — or images — were running wild through the Faunus’ mind. Weiss couldn’t help but watch when Blake licked a drop of dark sauce from one thumb, all too aware of what could be done with that tongue. She might have abandoned the idea of dinner halfway through, if not for the consideration that the rest of the night was sure to work up an appetite.

Once the dishes were cleared and they started to go up the stairs, Weiss was surprised by the gentle press of Blake’s hand against her back. The Faunus was very careful with displays of affection outside the confines of her room, as their relationship wasn’t something either of them could afford to see publicized. There were already enough accusations of bias from the media and other companies who were benefiting from non-human labor that Weiss was taking bribes or under duress from the Faunus rights front without them knowing she had a top-ranking officer of the White Fang in her bed. Forcibly retired or not, Blake’s body was still covered with the evidence of a long, illicit career, and Weiss didn’t believe there were any plans to be rid of the offending ink any time soon.

She didn’t mind. For all the violence and mistakes implied in the darkly etched lines, there was a beauty to their stark design, in the way the images on Blake’s arms blended together and the sheer perplexing detail in the crown and flowers adorning the Faunus’ torso. Weiss had traced the scar where one tattoo had been cut out until she had its boundaries committed to memory, just like the claw marks inked above. She knew the jagged tissue as well as she knew the delineations in every muscle, the sensitive spot at the base of Blake’s violet-lined ears.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, the locks resetting themselves, Weiss felt another anxious stab low in her stomach. It was a character flaw, she knew, to expect herself to be proficient in everything, especially that which she hadn’t tried, but the thought of failure in whatever intangible way it might present itself was nerve-wracking. Blake knew her more intimately than anyone else and had yet to shy away, even at the edges where they didn’t fit together perfectly. There were fights and frustration at times, but never a denial or attempt to force her to change.

“It’s…in the top of the closet.” Weiss said softly, even as she averted her eyes in the opposite direction.

“Do you want to start right away?” Blake asked, turning to face her.

“What else would we start wi—”

She was cut off by the Faunus leaning down for a kiss, the fervor behind it sending a shiver down her spine. The difference in height between them made it a slightly strained endeavor, but Weiss lingered as long as she could, enjoying the simple pleasure of Blake’s lips against hers, the brief interplay of tongue and teeth. It steadied her in a way so many other things couldn’t, she noted with amusement, despite its forbidden nature. Even if Blake hadn’t been a member of the White Fang, Weiss was sure Father would be apoplectic at the thought of his daughter courting a Faunus, much less one that happened to be nearly a decade her senior.

Courting may have been too mild a word for the feelings Blake roused in her, the depths of need and emotion that she warily approached. It had taken Weiss time to become comfortable with the truth that desire could drive her to distraction, that some part of her always hungered for the Faunus’ presence. There was a vulnerability in wanting another person; affection could be denied at will, the leverage they held over her heart used to do unspeakable damage. Yet it wasn’t fear she felt when they finally broke apart for breath — it was heat.

“There’s no need to rush to the finish line.” Blake murmured.

Weiss’ mouth quirked in a smile. “I have every intention of taking my time, thank you.”

“Alright.” The Faunus turned around, taking the last few steps to the closet. Weiss watched as the black box was removed from the uppermost shelf, the golden seal on the side already broken. She hadn’t been able to contain her curiosity or resist the urge to read the instructions. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Blake.” Weiss mulled over the request for a split second before giving in. “Could you keep your suit on?”

She had expected the curious look over one shoulder, although the amusement in the Faunus’ eyes was pure and not malicious. “This is getting very specific.”

Weiss felt a blush starting to climb up her face. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I will.” Blake’s mouth pursed into a tight, inquisitive line. “I’m just wondering how much you haven’t told me.”

There was no simple reply to that, but she was freed from the burden of answering as soon as the Faunus disappeared into the bathroom. Weiss wondered if she should change — the likelihood of any lingerie she wore being torn off and subsequently in need of replacement seemed high. She took a certain ease from the clothes worn for business matters; the designs and style hand-picked and fit together to create a sharp aura of confidence. A quick look in the mirror proved her skirt wasn’t too long to be unwieldy, at least. After another moment of consideration, Weiss settled for undoing the top two buttons of her blouse. If Blake wanted more off right away, they could negotiate.

When the Faunus emerged, black hair flowing over both shoulders after being freed from its braid, she felt her breath catch. It took another long moment for Weiss to find the wherewithal to look down, following the familiar lines of the suit until she reached the very unfamiliar bulge in the front of dark trousers. Blake closed the distance between them in a few steps, but the slant in the Faunus’ hips she was used to had shifted, the self-assured swagger holding a different weight.

“Oh.” Weiss found glancing up even more difficult; it was easy to forget how much Blake outclassed her in size until they were about to become intimate. She assumed it was part of having Faunus blood, considering Adam had towered over her just the same. Height wasn’t the only factor, though. There was the width of tattooed shoulders, the strength Blake wielded with exacting grace. At times, it felt like she had lured someone out of legend into her bed, a fantasy that would vanish the moment it was touched by sunlight.

“Was this what you were going for?” Blake asked, one hand rising to gently cup her jaw.

Weiss leaned into the contact, closing her eyes before she lay a kiss in the center of the Faunus’ palm. “You have no idea. Even looking at you—”

It was intimidating. The word seemed too harsh, implying that Blake would ever bring her to harm, but that wasn’t what Weiss was afraid of. She knew the burden of her inexperience all too well, and despite the apparently endless well of patience the Faunus had for it, the truth remained that Blake could easily demand better from someone else. They never spoke about the specifics of old lovers, the memories too ingrained with the lifestyle of the White Fang to make for comfortable conversation, but Weiss still wondered, and the thought had a habit of gutting her courage at the moments she was most desperate for it not to.

“Weiss?”

“—I can hardly bear it.” She finished, opening her eyes. Blake’s brow had knit, curiosity giving way to concern. “Could you sit on the edge of the bed?”

The lines of worry didn’t fade, but thankfully her request was answered, the Faunus’ hand falling from her cheek. Even sitting down, they weren’t entirely eye level with one another, although the effect was remarkably different. Blake relaxed into the wide-legged sprawl that Weiss knew would make her old governess weep; she personally found something endearing in the slouch.

“This is new to me too, you know.” The Faunus said. “Sort of.”

Weiss approached with a bit more confidence, letting her fingers claim Blake’s tie, lightly tugging at its length. It was black silk, absent any design, bought on a whim after a dinner with an investor. She tried not to shower the Faunus in gifts, concerned that it would imply she was buying affection, but picking something out and seeing Blake wear it later brought her a particular sense of satisfaction.

“Sort of.” Weiss started to undo the knot at Blake’s throat. “You did say you’d been with men in the past.”

The Faunus let out a soft hum of amusement. “A couple. I’m not sure I’d recommend you go to a bar and find one.”

“Even if I was old enough to drink, there’s not much alluring about trading a few martinis and my dignity with a stranger.” Weiss said, pulling the tie free from the confines of Blake’s collar. She looped it gently over her fingers, looking down at the fine weave of the silk. “This is going to be difficult with you watching me.”

“Oh?”

Weiss warily cast her gaze upward. “I can’t shake the thought that I’ll look ridiculous or do something wrong.”

Blake’s head tilted a bit to the left. “I’d be more concerned about you being hurt than what you look like.”

“Bruises to my ego tend to last a bit longer than anything you leave behind, Blake.” She said, continuing to idly toy with the tie.

“I could look away if you wanted.” The Faunus shrugged, sending a few curls tumbling back over one shoulder. “Or close my eyes.”

“That sounds silly and uncomfortable.” Weiss countered, teeth edging against her lip. “Much less because I have…performance anxiety.”

“You could always use the tie.” Blake mused.

“The—” Warmth tapered up her cheekbones. That was certainly an image. “You wouldn’t mind?”

The Faunus leaned back on both hands, considering for a moment. “No, I don’t mind. Whenever you’re used to it, then I’ll watch.”

Weiss thought of asking again to be sure, but the lust in her blood was steadily warring with her concern, and the time they had was steadily ticking away. She drew out the length of the tie before placing it across Blake’s eyes, careful not to catch any stray hairs as she bound the ends together at the back of the Faunus’ head.

Tightening the knot was slow work until the silk was taut enough to conceal that bright gaze, but not enough pressure to bring pain. Weiss let her hands fall away, briefly fascinated with how the black tie nearly blended into Blake’s irascible curls. When she waved her fingers in front of the Faunus’ face, there was no visible reaction. A smile tugged at her lips; this would do nicely.

“I suppose I could have used your ribbon instead.” Weiss said softly. “Although I might have had to wrap it around a few times.”

Blake let out a light chuckle. “I try not to bring weapons into the bedroom unless I have to.”

Her lips pursed. “I don’t think I want to know that story.”

Without the heady weight of that stare giving fuel to her apprehension, Weiss started to unbutton the Faunus’ dress shirt, casually spreading it open to bare the skin and tattoos underneath. She pulled the hem from the tight confines of belt and trousers, tracing the dark crown inked across the curve of one hip once it was exposed. Blake didn’t make any sound save for a stilted exhale, but one hand rose to her shoulder, offering a blind caress before fingers loosely tangled in her hair.

“Is this better?” Blake asked.

Weiss drew her nails in a single slow line across the roses on the Faunus’ chest, listening for the quiet hiss of pleasure that followed. “Much.”

She could have stripped away the shirt and jacket if she really wanted to, but half the point of Blake keeping the suit was aesthetics. The other was that Weiss preferred to do the undressing herself; the Faunus had a habit of slipping out of clothes in an instant, which took away all the enjoyment of watching someone disrobe.

Weiss didn’t like to be predictable. The path her nails took was erratic, sometimes skating over Blake’s skin just light enough to feel, other times biting in just shy of bringing blood to the surface. She absently sketched the Schnee snowflake over one breast, watching as the raised red lines disappeared seconds later. Fingers tensed in her hair, pulling her forward into another kiss. Weiss gasped softly against Blake’s mouth, free hand catching on the Faunus’ lapel and yanking to ensure it didn’t end too soon.

“You’re being a tease.” Blake murmured.

“Am I?” Weiss scratched down the hard plane of the Faunus’ stomach, watching as muscle tightly flexed in turn. “I recall someone who said not to rush to the finish line.”

A low growl rumbled through Blake’s chest when her fingers brushed the silver belt buckle, starting to work it open. “I clearly meant yours, not mine.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. While she couldn't see the familiar glint in that amber stare, she knew the comment was a joke, else the Faunus’ patience would have been frayed months ago. With the belt loose, she shifted her attention to the top button of the trousers, but having the bulge underneath brush her palm was new. So was the choked grunt she heard from above, a glance up revealing Blake’s jaw had tensed, teeth bared after a quick inhalation of breath.

“You can feel that?” Weiss asked.

“That’s the point of the design, isn’t it?” Blake’s lips pursed. “It’s definitely…different.”

Nice to know her Lien hadn’t gone to waste, at least in that aspect. Curiosity bid her to repeat the caress, this time with purpose. Weiss splayed her fingers across what felt like the base, trailing just the tips across the length trapped under the Faunus’ trousers. Blake shivered, shoulders becoming a rigid line as the hand in her hair subtly tightened, but not enough to hurt.

“In a good way?” Button quickly undone, Weiss sought out the bronze tab of the zipper. It took a harsher pull than she expected to draw it down; however, there usually wasn’t anything in its path.

“Very.” Blake said, a bit breathless.

The initial brush of her thumb against warm, solid silicone was a surprise. Weiss had expected the toy to be as cold as when she had first removed it from the box, but between the Faunus’ thighs, it channeled the same remarkable heat. On a whim, she eased her hand further into Blake’s trousers, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and offering a firm squeeze. It gave like flesh, like she imagined the real thing would be, although Weiss had specifically bought it cast in black to sync with everything else the Faunus wore. The intent wasn’t to pretend she was with someone different, it was to have Blake in particular — stoic, fierce, maddening Blake — inside her.

A rush of emotion and arousal, a heady mixture Weiss didn’t spare the time to decipher, followed the thought, matched by a low groan that drew her attention back up. Even while musing, her hand had kept up the pressure, and Blake’s silence was crumbling in the aftermath. It was exhilarating, enough to prompt Weiss to ease the shaft completely out of the Faunus’ pants, watching the head subtly curve back towards the hard, sculpted surface of Blake’s stomach, stopping just short of making contact. She had somewhat underestimated the size of the toy in practice; even with the shorter end resting inside Blake, it was large enough to—Weiss swallowed past a bit of dryness in her throat; she would definitely be taking her time.

The first strokes up the length were slow as Weiss experimented with how firmly she gripped; it was difficult to tell how much sensitivity was projected to Blake’s center, if being subtle mattered at all. “How does this feel?”

“Even better.” The Faunus’ hand stilled in her hair. “This was supposed to be about you.”

“Were you just going to climb on top and ravish me?” Weiss asked wryly.

“You didn’t give me very much time to plan.” Blake countered, but the protest lost its fire when it was followed by a soft sound, the short uncontrolled jerk of the Faunus’ hips up into her hand.

There was something appealing about the fact that Blake could only read her by touch and sound, having to wait until the moment of contact to react. Weiss was used to measured breaths, that guarded amber stare traveling over her body, analyzing every movement she made. This was the first time that she ever had a chance to surprise the Faunus in bed. Weiss couldn’t withhold a smile; if she had taken a blindfold into account, the list of what she wanted to try might have been a lot longer. Something to remember for next time.

Her hand slid back down to the base of the toy, the other moving to rest against Blake’s hips, on the side absent the crown. If the Faunus pushed upward, she didn’t want to be caught off-guard. Weiss had never tried to drop silently to her knees before, but she managed it, feeling when her stockings abraded the carpet. Curious tension rippled through Blake’s body, a few brief flickers of violet-lined ears, but there was no verbal response until she tilted her head down, running her tongue up the shaft.

“Weiss, wh—” The words were cut off by a gutteral growl. “Nn.”

It didn’t taste like anything in particular, which Weiss supposed was a good thing, but certainly a switch from when she usually went down on the Faunus. After the first time — the first time she’d gotten it right, rather than having to relent due to a sore jaw or a crick in her neck — Weiss had spent the rest of the night flushed, caught between pride and chagrin about having Blake’s slick heat smeared down to her chin. This was easier at least in one sense; she didn’t have as much to directly focus on.

Weiss had no idea what the appropriate rhythm or ratio of mouth to hand was, but for the time being, it didn’t really matter. She wasn’t trying to get anywhere in particular, simply indulging in the rumbling purr that emanated from Blake’s chest with faster strokes, the ragged gasp when she drew the head of the toy completely between her lips and sucked. Going much further seemed out of the question when Weiss felt her throat tighten, rebelling against the intrusion and threatening to make her cough. She knew it was technically possible to ease her mouth all the way down the thick shaft, but the thought of gagging in the process made her recoil.

It wasn’t until Blake’s other hand had settled beneath her hair, gently massaging the tense lines of her neck instead of trying to guide forward or back, that Weiss sat back on her heels, letting out a moan. The Faunus knew exactly where to touch her, every point of pressure and tension to ease, and it was marvelously distracting. She could sink into the sensation, let Blake play with her hair and trace over her pulse for hours, wrap those calloused fingers around her throat and squeeze just enough for her to feel—Weiss shivered, shaking her head before gingerly easing both hands away from her skin.

“Is something wrong?” Blake’s voice was strained, a lower register than usual.

“You’re making it very hard to focus.” Weiss admitted, glad that the blindfold kept her blush from being apparent.

“Am I?” The sight of the Faunus leaning forward, hair spilling over both shoulders, the subtle flex of the toy — wet and shining from her mouth — that followed the movement would have taken Weiss’ knees out from under her, if she wasn’t already on them. Being bound couldn’t dim the aura of power Blake projected; it was like putting a bell around a panther’s neck and calling the beast tame.

It could serve another purpose, though. Weiss tugged at the Faunus’ belt until it was freed from the tight loops of the trousers, polished leather smooth in her grasp. The buckle was deceptively simple, but if the belt was twisted right, it could be bound into tight coils against itself — crude, but effective.

“Put your hands behind your back.” There was no command in the words; Weiss couldn’t manage that with the ache steadily rising between her thighs, but she could gamble on breathless need tipping the scales her way.

Blake’s obedience was paired with a toothy smile, the movement forcing both jacket and shirt even wider. “If that’s the belt, you know I can tear right through it, don’t you?”

Weiss ignored the comment for a moment, focusing on working the belt into a rough approximation of cuffs without being able to see over the Faunus’ body. She had to lean forward to set the buckle in place, feeling the hard press of the shaft against her breasts long enough to turn another deeper shade of red. Blake wisely said nothing, even if she could feel a feel a brief tremble in the muscle-bound thighs on either side of her.

“I’m not trying to keep you still.” Weiss eased back, somehow finding her footing and the wherewithal to break away from Blake completely. “It’s just a reminder to keep you from touching me.”

“Mm.” The Faunus’ head tilted up; Blake’s ability to sense her presence even without sight was nothing short of uncanny. “So you’ve never pictured this before?”

There was no accusation behind the question, only curiosity, but there was little Weiss could offer as an excuse. Disheveled and half-dressed, blind yet eager, that strength that could force her against a wall and spread her legs in an instant barely held in check, Blake did look like a figure torn from fantasy, albeit one Weiss never had the courage to have. Taking control of the Faunus was a step beyond novelty, it was trampling right past her comfort zone, leaving her without any known boundaries.

They still had the safeword, she supposed. Sable. It served just as well for Blake as herself.

“No, I haven’t.” Weiss said aloud, reaching for the zipper on her skirt, purposefully opening it with enough force to be heard before letting the garment drop to the floor. She stepped out of her heels next, abandoning them further back where they wouldn’t be tripped on. “But you are always encouraging me to try new things.”

By the time her stockings were tossed aside — any patience for putting away her clothes before sex had vanished after their first month together, especially when Blake countered it by refusing to remove more than her underwear — Weiss could see the anticipation building in each breath the Faunus took, a faint hint of sweat visible in the gap between collarbones. She eased her panties down, letting gravity guide them past her knees. There was little need to spare a glance and confirm she was wet; it wasn't in question.

When Weiss closed the distance between them again, it was with a kiss, pouring every bit of desire she could muster into it. Blake drank her down like wine, heedless of the clash of tongues and teeth. She heard leather creak when she finally withdrew, a single drop of blood painting the Faunus’ lower lip with crimson. Weiss took advantage of the split second daze to place her hands against Blake’s chest, nails biting into hollow rose petals before she gave a forceful shove. With both arms bound, the Faunus fell back like a lead weight against the bed, hair fanning out across the sheets in a dark halo.

Blake’s next exhale was paired with a low sound as Weiss climbed onto the mattress, careful not to let her hips press down against the length of the shaft — yet. This was the first time she ever felt steady on all fours; usually her arms were buckling under her, thighs weak with exertion as the Faunus’ fingers spread her open, giving and taking until Weiss had no choice except to scream, praying the pillow she buried her face in would mute the sound. The difference in their size meant her knees were splayed wide to find purchase on the bed, but it was much different with Blake underneath rather than pinned atop her, leaving bite marks like brands across her back.

Weiss shivered at the memory before regaining her composure, leaning down to kiss the fabric across Blake’s eyes, just gentle enough to be felt. That earned a nearly-hidden smile before her attention turned elsewhere, primarily the juncture between the Faunus’ neck and shoulder, the curve where Weiss could graze her teeth or bite down hard at will. She let her hand trail between Blake’s breasts, offering a ghost of a caress before it descended over flexed muscle once more, halting when her palm bumped against the head of the toy.

“This I have thought about,” Weiss whispered, fingers curving around the underside of the shaft, “what this will feel like.”

“Take it slow.” Blake said, sincere despite the sudden hitch of breath.

Weiss wanted to insist she wasn’t made of glass, but deep down she knew the Faunus could break her, bend her in half, split her in two, a hundred dark violations she’d visited in dreams, only to wake up with those powerful arms cradling her with all the tenderness of any lover. The Shadow of the White Fang, who carried her with kindness when she deserved nothing but spite; it was fantastical, as if she had played a trick on the universe. Instead Weiss let her tongue outline Blake’s collarbone, tasting salt and skin, grounding herself.

Tilting her head forward gave her just enough of an angle to see what she was doing, even if it happened to be upside-down. Weiss bit back a whimper as she eased the end of the toy just past her entrance; it was a bit thicker than Blake’s fingers pressed together, less forgiving when her hips shifted to work the shaft deeper. A groan rumbled through the Faunus’ chest, the contralto chorus to her short litany of gasps as Weiss’ fingertips brushed against the base. Somehow there was a few inches of it outside her, and positioned as she was, there was no graceful way to compensate.

After drawing in a breath, Weiss placed both hands on Blake’s chest, moving her body up and back at the same moment her arms pushed down. The moment she sat up, knees digging harshly into the bed, their hips were forced flush together and a thoroughly undignified sound, high enough to be called a whine, escaped her mouth. Weiss winced at the stretch of the shaft inside her, just shy of pain until she raised her hips up that last inch again and adjusted, slowly settling back into place. The initial sting was swept away by a jolt of pleasure, feeling herself instinctively tighten, the shock of it going straight up her spine.

When Weiss glanced back down, Blake’s face was turned against the sheets, ragged breaths making their way past flared nostrils and a tightly clenched jaw. The Faunus’ hips were trembling beneath hers, fighting the desire to move as sweat gathered along the divot of sculpted abs, shoulders straining outward as if willing the belt to snap in two. Her shove, the brief scrape of nails that came with it, had left reddened marks within the petals of Blake’s chestpiece, the color swelling out to the edges of the roses. Weiss had seen them nearly crimson before, the heat of exertion interplaying with the blood her teeth drew just shy of the surface. There was nothing endearing about being possessive, but she still wanted her touch inked as deep into the Faunus’ body as those tattoos, owned and owning in turn.

“I suppose I should stop telling you to be careful.” Blake rasped.

Weiss started to rock her hips, experimenting with drawing her body higher until she felt the toy nearly slip from inside her, only to slide back to the base once more with a moan. It was a different, fuller sensation, nothing like the overwhelming bursts of pleasure when the Faunus worked lips and tongue between her thighs, the twist of calloused fingers thrusting deep. “The truth is, Blake, I love it the most when you forget to be gentle with me.”

There was no response at first to the bold words, not until her fingers tensed against their perch on Blake’s chest. “…love?”

“Shut up.” Weiss muttered, desperate to ignore the blush rising across her cheeks. “And move already. I’m not doing all of this myself.”

Blake let out a soft hum, mouth curving in an unusually wicked smile. “Being on top suits you, Weiss, but control’s a fickle thing.”

She had no time to answer before the Faunus’ hips rolled up, driving the shaft to its limit. Weiss let out a sharp cry, the counter-movement of her body pushing down making it feel that much deeper. Finding a rhythm was more difficult when she didn’t have complete command of the motion; Weiss noted a faint ache in her calves until she applied more pressure to Blake’s chest, taking some of the weight off her legs. There was no complaint at the shift, nothing but the grunts and breathless noise that accompanied every steady, insistent thrust.

It felt good, if not entirely what she expected; Weiss supposed imagination really could only carry her so far. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Blake; surely that suit would be ruined from the combination of sweat and sex, the belt rent past the point of ever being worn again, but perhaps some emergency dry-cleaning could save the tie, if only to hang in the Faunus’ closet as a keepsake. Leaning down for a kiss made Weiss gasp as the angle of her hips changed, Blake refusing to relent even when their lips met; she tasted iron, like so many other nights.

“I needed this.” The confession was barely a whisper, too quiet to be set in stone. It could be forgotten, the syllables mangled between breaths. “Needed you.”

“Weiss—” Her name was all Blake could form, the words to follow lost to a growl.

She let her nails sink in deep; the previous marks were already gone, the Faunus healing by instinct as the heat between them became nigh unbearable. Weiss’s next moan was raw, desperate. The pleasure was too much and yet not quite enough, not until she worked a hand back down between their bodies, seeking out the slick bud of her clitoris. It only took a few erratic strokes before Weiss collapsed against Blake’s chest, biting down wherever her teeth could find purchase to stifle a scream as she trembled in ecstasy, whatever pain she provoked making the next thrusts that much harder.

It was only when she could hear over the sound of her own heartbeat again, over a dual symphony of ragged breaths that Weiss realized she had closed her eyes somewhere in the midst of release. They opened slowly as she found the strength to sit back up, grateful that at least for the moment, Blake’s hips had stilled. An aftershock of pleasure made her tighten around the shaft again, its presence a dull yet gratifying ache inside her. Weiss had to brush some of her hair out of her face, feeling where it was sticking absently to her back. A shower was certainly in order, at some point.

“Can I see you?” Blake asked, the question surprisingly quiet.

Weiss’ eyes widened a little; in the middle of things, she had all but forgotten Blake was bound, anxiety washed away in the wake of their coupling.

“Of course.” Weiss answered, not even bothering to undo the knot in the tie before tugging it from around the Faunus’ head. She threw it aside with no regard to where it fell, pushing black bangs damp with sweat away from Blake’s eyes. They were still the same golden hue, even if the corona surrounded dark pupils blown from excitement. “Did you—”

“Not yet.” Blake exhaled sharply. “You look gorgeous.”

Despite the lingering heat of her orgasm suffusing her body, Weiss felt herself blush. A surreptitious swipe of her tongue over her lips and the sight of the deep crimson marks decorating Blake’s collarbone like a necklace made it clear she had drawn blood at least once. She had to appear close to feral; glassy-eyed, hair askew, mouth wet and red, but the Faunus was staring up at her with all the devotion of a cleric, like one of the lost worshippers who left offerings outside Vytal’s broken temples.

“You’re a fool.” Weiss murmured, tilting her head to offer a gentle kiss. “Do you want to finish like this?”

“Yes.” Blake nuzzled her cheek. “Although I’d like my hands free.”

“I can—”

Her words were cut off as she heard the clatter of the buckle, a protesting groan from strained leather before the coiled belt appeared from behind the Faunus’ back, pushed off the edge of the bed with all the care Weiss had given the tie. It had only taken seconds; an idle thought trailed through her mind, curious if Blake could shatter one of her glyphs through physical prowess alone. That was a battle she wouldn’t mind winning or losing.

“Are you ready for me?” Blake asked, slowly rolling back both shoulders in a stretch. “Or do you need a moment?”

“Have you so little faith in my endurance?” Weiss teased. “Take what you need.”

No matter how often she experienced it, the sensation of her entire body being lifted was still a surprise. Blake had switched their positions in one fierce movement, laying Weiss on her back against the bed. The Faunus settled between her knees, the sensation of the shaft sliding all the way back inside earning a whimper. Weiss watched as Blake hurriedly stripped off both shirt and jacket, heedless of the sound of tearing fabric. The trousers remained trapped around smooth, bare calves, but they weren’t exactly in the way.

She drank in the sight of the designs that began just past the muscular curve of each shoulder. There was always something new to read in the lines of the ink that tapered off at the juncture of hand and wrist, an entire history laid plain for the world to see. Hooking her legs around Blake’s hips, Weiss looked up at the Faunus, the desire she expected echoed tenfold in a sharp, hungry stare. This she could bear; surrendering to Blake was easy, easier than Weiss ever wanted to admit aloud.

When calloused hands moved to seize her hips, Weiss blinked, realizing there was a cuff of aggravated red remaining around Blake’s wrists, about as wide as the belt. “Did I have that buckled too tight?”

“No.” Blake purred. “Just tight enough. Trust me.”

And she did. Trust was even more fickle than control, so tenuous and fragile, but it was the thread that bound them so close together, no matter what they suffered. Weiss held Blake’s stare, ready to ask for more, but the words weren’t needed as the Faunus began to move, the initial thrusts slow and measured. When Blake’s fingers tightened in the hollows of her hips, Weiss let out a moan, starting to rock into the rhythm. The first orgasm had left her absolutely dripping, able to accept the full length of the shaft without any complaint.

“Harder, Blake.” All the blood was going to rush to her face at this rate, modesty be damned. “Please.”

Weiss whimpered in protest when Blake froze instead, the Faunus’ expression indecipherable for a long moment. She discerned the details piece by piece; the worry that drew heavy lines between Blake’s brows, fighting gallantly against the lust that set that jaw hard with tension. There were softer feelings too, ones Weiss refused to name, lest there was a chance she was reading too deeply for the sake of her own heart. Were they even capable of such a thing together? That would be the greatest fairytale of them all.

“You’ll use the word if you need it?” Blake finally asked.

“Yes.” Weiss insisted. Sable, that purest tincture of black, meant to adorn shields and armor, the signs of a protector. She held it on her tongue with the promise, ready to cry out if Blake’s fears somehow came to life. “I will.”

The pause that followed was maddening, spanning only a matter of seconds but feeling that much longer as Blake took a steadying breath. A fractional tilt of the Faunus’ head was Weiss’ only warning before Blake’s hips surged forward, burying the shaft to its hilt, forcing a gasp from her throat. Each thrust felt faster than the next, Weiss pressing her heels tightly into the small of the Faunus’ back to keep herself from being shoved backwards into the pillows. The hands on her hips were tight as a vise, sure to leave a wealth of color behind as Blake fucked her without a hint of mercy, pulling her into every thrust so the full force was impossible to escape.

Weiss couldn’t do anything but squirm, hands clawing at the sheets since she couldn’t sit up, couldn’t grasp at the shoulders that flexed with untold strength every time Blake plunged back inside her. She was begging with meaningless words tied to the Faunus’ name, no longer caring how it sounded as long as Blake didn’t stop again. A drawn-out groan signaled release, the aggressive tempo falling slightly off-kilter, becoming shorter, instinctive thrusts, but Weiss moaned when the Faunus recovered in a matter of seconds, shaking that wild hair over one shoulder before resuming the same demanding pace.

“Blake—” Weiss gulped down a breath, pleasure robbing her of anything more than those broken syllables, the single word she was still holding in her mouth like a prayer.

“I want you to come again.” Blake rasped. “I want to see you.”

How could she refuse? She wanted to give the Faunus everything, forge the keys to her soul and force them into Blake’s hands for safekeeping. It was a mistake, it was all such a mistake,  but Weiss didn’t care. They bled together, fought together, fit together like two sides of a coin. If the world was fair, they would live as a pair should, making this damned and hollow mansion a home, but at least they had this. She would stake her claim in flesh and blood, in pleasure and pain, and destroy anyone who dared to oppose it.

“Anything you ask,” was all Weiss uttered aloud, pulling one hand from its tangle in the sheets.

She felt her back arch as soon as her fingers sought out her clitoris again, quick circles beneath the hood bringing that final euphoric pulse Weiss needed to let go. There was nothing to mute her shout or the snarl Blake gave in answer, swept away in the primal rhythm until the Faunus’ fervor began to cease, a few more even thrusts drawing out the echoes of release until they were both still, save for the slightly frantic need to breathe. Sweat trickled down Blake’s body, and each time a droplet passed over a line of ink, Weiss almost expected the design to blur, like the designs weren’t real. Like this wasn’t real.

The Faunus’ withdrawal was a firm enough counter to that particular line of thought, a shiver going through Weiss from head to toe as the shaft slid out of her completely. Blake gripped the toy by its base and firmly pulled to remove it, letting out a heady groan the moment it slipped free. There was a sigil inscribed in gold on the shorter end, powering whatever mechanism allowed sensation to transmit through the length; Weiss would have to research the details of it further, later.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Blake said, setting the toy just out of reach. Weiss wrapped her arms around the Faunus’ back the moment Blake laid back down, running her fingers over the snarling wolf emblazoned there. She knew its outline without having to look. “Although when comparing ways to go—”

“Don’t talk about death.” Weiss interrupted, shifting one hand into Blake’s hair and pulling the Faunus down against her breasts. “Just be with me.”

She felt the frown that followed, but there was no argument. Weiss was aware they needed to clean up, lest their morning schedule became even more crowded, but the ability to stand would have to come after the weakness left her legs, after her heart stopped pounding like a mallet against the drum of her chest. Every breath felt a fraction too short, time trying to steal this moment from her, but Blake was warm, the weight of the Faunus’ body on hers well worth any discomfort.

“You’re going to be sore tomorrow.” Blake mumbled against her skin.

Weiss let out a startled laugh. “What use is that massive chair in the conference room if I can’t use it to sit during meetings?”

“No use at all, I suppose.” Blake said softly. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Weiss’ brow knit, even knowing it was concern and not pity that drove the Faunus’ words. “Of course I’m alright. You’re not a monster, you know.”

At that, Blake’s head rose up, enough for their eyes to lock. “Just a beast, then.”

“No, Blake.” Weiss shifted so one hand could cup that stolid jaw, stroke away the tension there. “You’re far more than that.”

When they kissed, it was bittersweet. Weiss knew the Faunus didn’t — couldn’t — believe her, not yet. So much was left to be undone, so many scars that would never heal clean. She would wash the blood away when it came, honor the bruises before they faded away. They would be more someday, and never settle for less again.

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