Hi, I'm Demial. Same username on AO3. Main blog is demial4. Header and icon by @fluoxetinehcl
I like to write reader-insert fanfiction and ramble about characters, though occasionally I'll write single-character. I struggle with requests so I usually just write my own stuff.
My current fixation is the FF7 Remake trilogy (though I have played the OG several times), usually Rufus Shinra. I hope I get the energy for multiple fandoms one day again!!
have we considered you grabbing the headboard while riding it? his hands gripping your waist and you gripping the headboard for leverage going from slow experimental strokes of your hips, to slamming your pussy down around his cock over and over, while he curses and moans loudly and your tits bounce in his face ??
At @swiftmaskqueen request, here are some headcanons focused solely on Rufus Shinra! đâ
Rufus hates anything sweet. He prefers very salty dishes and seafood.
Rufus loathes the heat and the scorching sun (he cannot stand sweating or having his clothes stick to his skin). Costa del Sol is his personal Hell.
His favourite colour is not white, but light purple.
Rufus loves dancing, partly because his beloved mother introduced him to the activity when he was young, and he always enjoyed sharing those moments with her.
Rufus despises Midgar, the city created by his father and both the centre and symbol of his power.
He far prefers Upper Junon, where he likes to reside most of the time. He had planned to establish Shinra Cie's new operations centre there, after his appointment as President.
His morning and night routines might intimidate even the most seasoned beauty influencers.
Rufus loves taking care of himself: tending to his skin with luxury beauty products, working out in the Turks' gym, and maintaining his appearance by ordering custom-made clothes from top designers. Vanity is one of the few vices he allows himself.
His mother was an announcer for Midgar's biggest television station, who dreamed of an artistic career and becoming a blues singer.
Rufus adored his mother and still does not know the truth about her death to this day, although he suspects it was a political assassination. He was six years old when he was told of her death.
Rufus' relationship with President Shinra reached the point of no return when Rufus failed to graduate at the top of his class from the Academy of Political and Economic Sciences in Midgar.
To avoid making this post too long, you can find the rest here:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Some self-indulgent smut with smut & female Turk reader đ
You'd been seeing your boss in private for a little while. Sleeping together, mostly. You expect him to cut you loose any week now and give you the news that you're being demoted back down to Just A Turk again. He's asked you to come to his presidential quarters in the evening, as usual, but you have a feeling tonight will be different. Itâs giving you mild shivers on the elevator ride up.
You let yourself into the large quarters with your Turk key card and take a few steps in. The presidential quarters are in the middle of being redecorated. The furniture is more to Rufus' taste but the walls have yet to be changed from the steely black they currently are.
âI'm in the bedroom,â President Rufus calls from farther in.
Okay, maybe it isn't going to go badly. But you're usually greeted by the sight of him holding a glass of something alcoholic in one hand and a report in the other in the living room. You're curious so you follow his voice.
The lights in the bedroom are dim, allowing the dark walls to swallow what little light there is. Rufus stands in front of the king-size bed, in white, like usual. But the similarities end there.
âEvening.â
âSir,â you force through a tight throat when you remember to reply.
You step closer to confirm when your eyes are trying to tell you. And it is; it's a white, lace dress. It's tailored to his body, judging by the way it fits his shoulders and chest perfectly. It fits slim everywhere and then flares at the knee, just enough to be able to walk. It looks like he saw a lace mermaid wedding dress and demanded it be made to fit his body on a whim. He certainly has the money.
He's been silent this whole time as you've walked closer to inspect the lace hugging his body, content to stand there smugly. He knows he looks good.
âYou approve, I assume?â
Youâre already reaching towards him, fingers spread to grab a handful of the lace before you stop and remember to answer. â...yeah,â you force out awkwardly.
âDonât be shy,â he taunts you.
You donât need to be told twice. This time, your intentions are gentle, running your open hand fingers slowly over the soft lace, from the top of his shoulder to down his back, walking around to get a better look. He must have had a hand in designing it, because where normally pearls or round fabric buttons fastening the back closed, there are round silver ones, reminiscent of the zipper tabs on his signature white coat.
Now that you look closer, you see that the lace pattern is big, open mandragora flowers. It continues down both of his arms and up to his chest in a simple, shallow V-neck. The edges of the lace on the backs of his hands are the shape edges of the flower petals. You reach down to fiddle with it, fingertips brushing against his skin.
He chuckles and twists around to glance at you. He's enjoying the attention. You hold both forearms and slide your hands up to his shoulders, and he hums appreciatively, leaning back towards you.
âI take it you like it,â he murmurs lazily.
You suddenly grab his waist firmly, making him jolt in surprise. âI love it,â you purr.
Still holding his waist, it occurs to you that you could throw him on the bed. As a Turk, you're strong enough. You've never thrown anyone in that manner outside of work and sparring practice, though.
âIt was worth the effort to acquire, then.â He rubs his fingertips on the lace of the opposite arm absentmindedly.
You walk back around to the front. There's vertical boning beneath the chest that you didn't notice before. It's very him to want structure in a dress, even if you don't think he needs help with his posture. You spot two dark ovals, his nipples, through the lace on the front, because apparently, a man doesn't need his chest covered. You say a silent prayer in thanks to whoever will listen, trying to imagine how licking them throw lace might feel.
âYou look like you want to rip it off me.â
âNo. I want you to keep it on.â
With parted lips, he turns your reply over in his mind for just a second before he realizes what's going to happen next. Normally, when you sleep with your boss it will be, within reason, on his terms. Tonight, you grab his face and pull him down for a kiss like a woman starved.
When you finally let go, you're certain you both look drunk on desire already. Except his lips curve slightly at one corner, like he wanted this reaction from you, that he was manipulating you from the start.
You're okay with that.
He opens his mouth to say something, probably infuriating, but you pull him back down for another rough kiss, this time nibbling his bottom lip several times until he forgets himself and allows a soft moan to escape into your mouth.
You pull back just enough to say, âSit on the bed,â hoping he's willing to look past an inferior giving him an order just because he's about to get laid.
You let go and he obeys, but the smirk returns. You'll wipe it off his face. He sits but this time, he doesnât cross his legs. Because of the bulge. His cock is already excited, because these nights only go one way.
You kneel down in front of him. Thereâs an eagerness in the way he sits, even if he's trying to hide it. His body is still, almost serene, but his eyes tell a different story. He badly wants this to go further. But you want more of him, before the main event. You stand up just enough to pull him down for another kiss, with fingers hooked in the V on the front of the dress. While your lips and tongues move together, you slowly slide your hand up, pulling the dress with it.
You stop, pulling back. âNo garter.â
His face was still stuck in the expression he had during the kiss, but then he taunts you playfully. âWhat, so I can throw it at you? Youâd like that, wouldnât you?â
Heâs pleased with himself, leaving back on his hands. Instead of pleasing him immediately like a good subordinate, you pull down his underwear just enough to kiss the base, straining to the side to get free of its confines. He puts his hand on the top of your head but you bat it away and instead tickle your nails along the inside of his thighs.
It's apparently a ticklish spot that you weren't aware of, making a chuckle burst out of him and grab your wrists. âNot there,â he protests, but he's smiling.
You're not finished, changing strategies to lick the thick line his straining erection makes.
He groans softly. âThat's unfair.â
âIs it? I can't get your dick in my mouth without my hands free.â
âAnd what a mouth it is,â he growls softly, referring to your choice of language.
You can tell he loves it, letting go of your wrists.
âLie back,â you order, poking his lean stomach.
He falls back, resting the back of his head on his hands. You happen to glance down. On his feet are a pair of sensible, white loafers. He won't be needing those anymore tonight, so you slip them off. You forgo the nails and run your hands up his legs this time. The dress stays on, yes, but you do want to rip his underwear off. You settle for pulling them off, and he helps you out by shifting his hips.
You know he likes it when you start kissing up his length from the bottom. You focus on doing it slowly, rather than give in to the urge to swallow him down right then and there.
As usual, he threads his fingers in your hair. âGood girl,â he murmurs from above.
You grab his wrist, but he ignores your hint. As punishment, you allow your teeth to graze his head when you reach the tip.
He hisses and says, âNot a good girl tonight, I take it?â
You don't answer and take him in your mouth now that you're not being hindered by his hands. You work him like you want him to cum asap, sliding your hand up and down below your mouth. His hands and thigh muscles flex as he fights the urge to grab your head again. Even his toes twitch. His panting is music to your ears. You're tempted to let him cum in your mouth.
But no.
He sits up, face set in a scowl, demanding, âWhy'd you stop?â He sounds a tad frazzled, which turns you on even more, somehow.
You sliding your suit jacket off is your answer. He patiently watches because you take the rest off. Tseng would be upset that your suit is ending up crumpled unprofessionally on the floor but he's not here to stop you, now is he?
âAm I allowed to touch?â
You raise your eyebrows at his sass. He's picked up on your dominant mood tonight, at least. You get on his lap, poking him so that he lies back again. âYes. Just make sure you lie still like a good boy.â
He scoffs at you turning the phrase around on him, but he's no less eager. His hands come up to hold your hips, then they cup your breasts. While he does that, you slide your hands down his lean arms. He tears his gaze away from your body to ask, âWhat if I want to kiss you?â
Your fingers halt just shy of those ovals you spied earlier. âYou have to wait.â
His touches have the entirety of the area between your legs pulsing with need and his wants are not a high priority right now. Once he realizes you're about to ride him, he doesn't exactly complain. You merely have to sit up and his cock springs up to meet your hand. You lower yourself, forcing his cock inside, ignoring the voice in the back of your head telling you to just let him help prep you.
It hurts for a little bit. Rufus says nothing and remains still.
Rufus holds your waist while you gaze down at the beautiful man beneath you. At the dress you never thought you'd see him in. The boning, the lace that covers all yet barely conceals anything at the same time. His usually perfect hair fanning against the mattress. His parted lips and the game of who's-going-to-move-first that he's trying to start with his eyes because he just can't help turning sex into a game at one point. You will make your move first, of course. You have something to take. Him. You firmly caress his front, ghosting your fingertips over his nipples, as they protrude gently through the lace. His hands rest on yours, encouraging you.
You can't help the way you give him a possessive look. âOnly I get to see you like this.â
He doesn't answer right away. You think you see a look behind his eyes, one that is him questioning if he should have shown this dress to you in the first place. He can't control you anymore. But does he care? You don't want to give him too much time to think about and pull his face towards you. You kiss him at the same time that you begin rolling your hips, grinding your clit on him while his cock keeps you full.
He gives a long hum, probably relieved that heâs getting some kind of stimulation, as a man whoâs used to getting what he wants with you.
You grind harder, taking a hand and digging into the lace and his flesh beneath. He groans into the kiss. You're thinking he wouldn't mind if you ripped-
This time, it's him that breaks the kiss. âI canât finish like this.â
Just a little bit; youâre a little tempted to tell him you donât care. But thatâs not true. âOkay, you can move.â
You resume, and Rufus digs his heels into the bed so he can thrust up into you. You can't control your mouths enough to keep them locked on each other anymore, moaning in a mismatched rhythm. It becomes erratic the closer you both are to climax. It was more earth-shattering than usual, and you let out a shameless moan. Rufus followed close behind.
You slid off to his side, still unable to keep your hands off his lace-covered torso.
âHmmm. Iâll have to send this to be dry-cleaned,â he murmurs, pulling the dress away from his body where sweat bloomed in wide, uneven circles. He then says your name, his tone demanding your attention.
âYeah?â
âWe forgot the condom.â
You freeze, then fly off the bed, frantically pulling your clothes on. You hop on one leg while pulling your trousers on to avoid falling, after losing your balance. You hear a laugh behind you, making you spin around to face him, still naked from the waist up.
What you see has you scolding him, president-be-damned. âWhy are you laughing?! What if the chief finds out? He will! If I have to terminate a pregnancy, he'll be notified!â
Turks have an unfortunate lack of privacy when it comes to their health because being in fighting shape is absolutely necessary. You didn't mind before because Tseng would never gossip. But now you have something to keep from him. You can feel the results of the night leaking from your core onto your undies, making you press your thighs together in disgust.
âI need a shower.â
âGo down to HQ and get cleaned up. Iâll tell Tseng youâll be late.â
The way he said that could only mean one thing: that Tseng already knew about your trysts. âSir, did you tell him?â you whined.
He gave you the most serious face of the night. âYou would have gotten in trouble by now if I didnât.â
Realized I havenât talked to you in a while! I havenât been super into ff7 but with the announcement of the third part I want your opinion. I personally think that while Iâll miss Sephirothâs old voice once I get used to the new one I wonât mind it as much. Also Reno is back!!! Very excited to see him again
Same. I'll also miss his previous voice. I enjoyed how creepy, yet sexy it was! But I don't want to dismiss his new one (a third one? or was it the fourth? So many) until I've given him a chance to grow on me. He has so much creeping out Cloud to do.
I am super excited to see Reno. Because that had better mean the rest of the Turks, too! I keep hoping they'll make a reference to the time off they get during Wutai in the OG. Some kind of casual setting like in Junon before parade!! Please!! They aren't 100% our enemies!! đ„șđ
The one second of Rufus still makes me sad yet excited. ONE SECOND.
Ugh. Also looking forward to Matt Mercer as Vincent, too. Gonna be so sexy. Let us save that man!
Summary: âHow about you take me home?â was the only thing you could manage to say. Yet you were well aware of all the ambiguity hanging in your reply.
If asked, you would say you were close to your husband. It was only when alone you would admit sadly to yourself that it wasn't as true as you wished. You told yourself varying kinds of truths to self-soothe. For example, if he wasn't fond of you, he wouldn't have married you. Being a little cold just his way. He wouldn't step closer but neither would you. Could you blame him for being distant if you did the same? Despite telling yourself this on a regular basis, being with Rufus was bittersweet. No amount of lies or rationalization could overcome the ache you had for him.
Rufus came home early from the Shinra building, and you were waiting. He told you a week ago that there was yet another event scheduled at which you had to appear by his side.
âHi, Babe."
He replied by wearily saying your name. He then walked over, car keys jingling in his pocket and sunglasses on the top of his hairâafter taking off his boots, of courseâand leaned down to kiss your temple. You longed to pull him down for more affection but you didn't, and he continued towards the kitchen.
âIt starts at six,â he calls from there. âDo you have an outfit picked out?â
His voice rapidly came closer, and you shifted on the sofa to see him staring at you from the doorway. You answered in the affirmative while he glanced up at the black-painted wooden clock on the wall behind you. You had plenty of time to get ready.
âThen we should try.â
That was his way of asking for sex for the purpose of getting you pregnant. This was initially decided on because You got off the sofa in lieu of an answer. He turned around to switch off the coffee maker he just turned on. You went up the stairs towards the master bedroom, wondering if you were the only one feeling the tension from knowing you weren't a normal couple and yet could be.
He watched you undress. You felt oddly embarrassed, intimacy you werenât used to. âWhat position do you want?â you asked, to distract yourself.
âFrom behind.â He went into his closet to undress.
He seemed to like that position and asked for it a lot. You threw your clothes over the stool in front of your vanity for now and went and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the enduring tension. Sex with Rufus was admittedly awkward but you went through it because you wanted that intimacy you werenât getting, even if it was just rubbing intimate parts together and not for very long with a particular goal in mind.
As soon as Rufus came out of the closet, you gave your attractive husband a once over with hungry eyes before getting into position in the middle of the big bed. You admitted to yourself long ago that a significant reason you were with him was because of how he looked. You thought you should be embarrassed but you liked presenting yourself for your husband. You felt Rufus get on the bed behind you, making you spread your knees wider in invitation. He seemed to be an ass man and immediately put his fingers to yours, starting out light then digging in greedily. He next dragged the head of his cock up and down along your folds, spreading the increasing wetness around.
That was it for foreplay. He pushed inside, forcing through tightnessâwhich burned for youâwhile you opened your thighs even more, hoping it would ease his passage.
âMaybe we should consider lubrication next time,â he suggested.
You had your face pressed into the mattress, forcing your voice to be normal. âYep.â
Rufus reaches his end however-many-minutes later, the silence only disturbed by heavy breathing and the occasional slap to your ass. You joined him there, only because you forced it by rubbing really hard.
Usually, the two of you would lie there silently in the afterglow. He would leave first. This time, you had a little more courage than usual. You have always wanted to cuddle. Every second that passed where he hadn't left yet, you gained a little more courage. Maybe he would be okay with it, you encouraged yourself.
You overcame the fear of rejection and rolled over, pressing yourself to his side, sweat and all. He didn't move but he didn't push you away, either. Progress? Rufus was not a warm man. The drying sweat was already cooling his skin. It still felt right.
Just as you were feeling comfortable with this new little adventure in affection, he murmured, âI'm going to shower,â and got up.
Fair enough. If you felt sweaty and gross, he probably did, too. Plus, you both had to get ready. You waited for him to shower first, in the big glass shower in the master bathroom. It gave you time to think about what kind of hairstyle you were in the mood for. Once he was finished, it was your turn while he blow dried his hair in front of the bathroom mirror.Â
You exited the shower to an empty bathroom. After toweling your body off, you headed to your vanity in the master bedroom to dry and style your hair. You remember feeling more like Rufusâ wife when you first got it because he was providing for you. It was a luxury that you never had room for before you got married. It was easier to ignore the loneliness you sometimes felt when sitting here. Tonight, you decided to blow your hair straight and then flatiron it. You remember how bad you were at it at first, but itâs so easy now that you could let your mind wander as you worked, only concentrating to make sure you didnât burn your fingers.
Just as you were finished blow-drying, Rufus emerged from his closet, wearing his outfit for the night. Itâs another white suit, but this time itâs a tuxedo, and the only black is the bow tie. His habit was to head to his home office in these kinds of situations. You switched to the already-hot flatiron and finished your hair. After doing your makeup, you went and found Rufusâjust as you guessedâin his home office.
Once he noticed your presence, he rose from his desk. âThe carâs ready for us in the parking garage.â
You headed towards the front door, when he said, âWait.â He turned from looking at the tall windows of the penthouse. âLetâs take a picture.â
Occasionally, he would ask for you to play happily married couple so that Shinra could release the photo. The light was soft this late in the evening. You both looked great. A real couple. He put on that confident smirk you found so attractive. You'd go so far as to admit to yourself that you loved it. You hugged him tighter and gave the camera a genuine smile.
The events after that blurred together and went quickly. Youâve done this many times: accompany Rufus to the event, pause for pictures with a smile, make an entrance, and then socialize. Well, Rufus did most of the socializing. You were friendly with a few people but you preferred to sip on a drink or take a bite from the passed hors d'oeuvres, adding to the conversation here or there when appropriate.
You only noticed a man talking to Rufus at one point because he didn't seem to leave and Rufusâ bored expression indicated he didn't want to listen. The man seemed vaguely familiar but sometimes guests at these events blur together. You grew concerned when Rufus' face indicated displeasure as the man continued, even leaning a little closer to say something quietly. Usually, no one pushed him this far. The man didn't get the message until Rufus turned this expression on him.
âDon't make me repeat myself.â
After the man left, you asked, âWho was he?â
When he turned to you, you could see he was still frustrated. His hand closes tightly around your upper arm. âI want to try.â
âOw.â
His fingers relaxed.
âHere?â you asked.
âYes.â
You leaned away, not from him but the suggestion. âNo! Someone could see us. Iâm not into that.â
He turned away with a huff, dropping his arm. âAlright.â He accepted it unhappily.
âAfter?â
âAlright.â
He was quieter from then on but not too grumpy. The night continued. He excused himself to the bathroom, which was just as well because you found someone you liked to chat with after he left. Your friend, not his. Partway through the chat, you saw someone walk by, wearing a dark suit. It reminded you of the Turks, which reminded you of Rufus.
The dark suit walked by a second time five minutes later, giving you an odd feeling. It was probably nothing but you still excused yourself from the conversation and called Tseng, asking for him to confirm Rufusâ exact location. He was the president, after all. Canât be too careful.
âHeâs not answering his PHS,â Tseng replied.
You knew Tseng well enough in a professional capacity that a deviation from his usual tone was concerning.
âHe went to the bathroom last I spoke with him, so Iâll head in that direction,â you replied, walking quickly towards the door leading from the hall that would lead you towards the bathrooms.
You put your PHS in your clutch. Standing in the hallway, you didnât see a white suit among the few guests lingering outside the bathroom doors. You walked closer to the bathrooms, thinking it would help somehow. It didnât, and he didnât magically come walking out of the menâs. You continued walking and glanced around a corner that probably led to rooms for staff, assuming that would also be fruitless.
Itâs strange to see someone else wearing a white suit like that. Usually, only Rufus wears-
âMaâam? Did you find the president?â
Rufus must have heard Tseng talking as he came around the corner to join you. He took his mouth away from the other man's neck and unwrapped his arms from the man's body. It's hard to tell exactly what was going on, but you can guess. Rufus uses the black handkerchief he usually carries with him to wipe his mouth. Then he balls it up and stuffs it back in one of his pockets.
âYou can go,â you said to Tseng, trying to keep the rage from being misdirected at him. This wasn't his business. It was between you and Rufus.
You stood there, staring at him in painful disbelief, barely registering the other man drunkenly shambling away. The muted clamour of the party pushed on you from behind as your thoughts raced, rapidly nailing the coffin shut on the trust you thought you shared. The reality of what you saw and the noise converged within you in an uncomfortable way. There would be no Clair de Lune playing dramatically and a neat transition to the next scene that pushes the story along. This was real life, not a movie. What heâs done is unforgivable, but what now?
You ended up just going home together like usual. You were so angry and hurt you could barely speak on the way to the car, anyway. You were stewing when he finally spoke up in the darkness of the back seat.
âDisgusted, are we? Disgusted with âmy kindâ?â
That was a low blow. You weren't aware that your anger was showing on your face. It could easily have been mistaken for disgust. About to ask yourself if what he said was true and spiral inwardly, your indignation took the wheel instead and you started yelling, not caring if the driver heard you, âYou used me! You didn't even have the courage to tell me.â
âWould you have agreed to this arrangement?"
âThat's not the point! You lied! By omission!â Then your anger deflated. âI thought we were both just afraid of healthy intimacy.â
âWell, now you know,â he muttered bitterly.
And that was it. The death of your marriage.
You went home with him because if you wanted to leave, you had to, to get some things. Rufus didnât comment on your silence the entire way home and up to the penthouse. You followed him though the door andâŠyou just couldnât.
You ended up going to bed with your husband like usual. Tonight left you exhausted and the idea of having to go to your parentsâ place and explain what happened was unappealing. In the back of your mind, you knew it was also because following the routine was comfortable. You were passing off the hard part of planning to move out to the you of tomorrow.
You shouldnât make decisions when youâre emotional, you tell yourself.
Instead of falling asleep like you expected, you end up unable to, mentally wrestling with yourself. How can you be comfortable but also restless? Rufus must have fallen asleep. You rolled over to check on him and he was staring right back at you. You sighed, partly because you didn't want a conversation to spark. It would be easy to be drawn into one; you still love him. Also, it's not surprising to find your excessive movements kept him awake.
No, you pretend he doesn't exist and all but fling yourself out of bed, pushing the blankets aside like a nuisance. He doesnât comment now, either, and you go to the kitchen. Unfortunately, none of the snacks appeal to you. It hurts knowing youâd normally just go to the grocery store with the money Rufus provided. Of course, he never went with you.
You closed the cupboard and turned around to go sit, and jumped. Rufus had appeared silently next to the table.
âYou scared me again,â you sighed in frustration. He had done this before.
âYouâre leaving,â was all he said.
âI understand that youâll keep havingâŠcertain needs.â You hated the idea of being the reason Rufus has to hold himself back from being himself. Trying to imagine how lonely he must be made your heart ache. You leaned back against the counter, arms loosely crossed as a barrier to this situation.
âAnd that disgusts you, soâŠyouâre running away. I knew you would have such a problem with what I am,â he gritted out.
âI don't. But I can't stay, now, can I?â
He sneered. âDon't lie. You can't stand what I am.â
âNo!â you shouted. He sounded so disgusted with you in turn that you had to set him straight. You stood up, almost shaking with frustration. âBecause Iâm a woman!â
He was stunned, then the anger deflated. âWhat? What does that have to do with this?â
â...youâre not into women.â
âI am into women,â he replied, as if thatâs obvious.
âBut you wereâŠâ
âWhat did you think I was doing?â Then he stepped closer, using your name as a question, to urge you to expand on what you said.
âYou were cheating on me.â You crossed your arms tight across your chest and pressed your lips together, finally having said it out loud.
Rufus, about to take another step, pauses with his heel on the floor. You see on his face as he works out what happened. âYou didnât see what happened, did you?â
Now he was denying reality, which pissed you off. âDonât-â
He cut you off with your name again. He reached out as if he wanted to grab your face but then stopped himself, frustrated, and started pacing.
âRufus?â
He stopped and squared himself with you. He was completely closed off except for an unknown emotion in his eyes. âI can tell you the truth. But then I wonât let you go.â
Something about the way he said that makes you suddenly feel like prey standing in front of a predator. That maybe you didnât know Rufus, this powerful man, at all. What would happen if you agreed to hear his words? This is much different from living in limbo fantasy land where you believed he âprobablyâ loved you.
âYouâll understand when I tell you,â he added.
You only took a moment before you sighed. âOkay. Tell me.â
After a short pause, he said, âIâm a vampire.â
His confession was met with silence. You heard the words but you didn't believe it. He took a step closer.
âIâm a vampire,â he repeated, as if that would be enough for you to absorb it.
âI donât understand. Are you joking?â
âDo I ever joke?â
He was right. He hasn't. The idea that he was telling the truth was overwhelming. Because if he was telling the truth, then vampires would have to exist, and you don't know how long he's been one, plus how did he become one� Too many questions.
Rufus said your name softly, like he was hesitant to interrupt your reverie. He was unsure, which rarely happened. So heâs serious, you conclude. Was he telling the truth? If so, what actually happened in that hallway? If he wasnât kissing that manâs neck, thenâŠ
An idea strikes you. âRufus. Your handkerchief.â You don't wait for him to reply and go over to where he left his suit jacket from the event thrown over the sofa in the living room.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks. His tone is curious, yet a touch weary.
You don't answer. After pulling out the wrinkled handkerchief, you go into the kitchen, flicking the light switch on as you go. You rinse the black square in the sink.
The water runs red.
You didnât want to believe him; you already started distancing yourself emotionally when you saw him in the hallway earlier that night. But now that you've seen some evidence, you were wondering if what he was doing was still cheating. Rufus had followed you into the kitchen with a somber expression like he was waiting for a verdict to be passed down. You're not sure if the best choice is to stayâregardless of what your heart wantsâso you turn to him to ask some questions.
He explains that Tseng knows, which doesn't surprise you. Part of his job was to pretend otherwise in front of everyone else. Knowing he helped you look for Rufus as if he didn't know what was going on stung a little. Rufus goes on to explain that he had fed on that man before. He had an arrangement with Rufus where he would feed on the man in exchange for a better business deal with his small company.
The problem was, someone had recently made a passing comment about the favour Rufus was showing that man, and in response, Rufus was distancing himself, hoping to find someone else with which to sate his need. The man tried to corner Rufus about a recent revision in a contract, and the frustration weakened Rufus' resolve. He thought taking out his frustration on you, quickly and out of sight, would help.
You didn't feel guilty about saying no back then. You were upset now because he never told you and wanted to press him further. âHow come you didn't just feed on Tseng?â
âEven after drinking a potion, the other person is sick for several days as if they have a cold or flu. I can't afford for him to take that many sick days.â
You took a step closer. âWhat about me?â It's a little twisted, maybe even selfish, but it pained you that he hadn't even tried to share his burden in that way.
He raised his hand and you thought heâd reach for you, but he quietly curled his fingers into a fist, instead. âI can't. I can't feed on you when you might be pregnant. What if you are and we don't know yet? It could be dangerous.â
You sighed forcefully and turned away, upset that he had a point. There was the time between trying and when the pregnancy test worked. âStill, Iâm your wife. You should have told me.â You said this even though you donât feel itâs true. Despite the legal marriage and living together, keeping secrets from each other would be unsurprising to an outsider looking in. You knew heâd push back on this.
âYou wouldnât have accepted me.â
He stood there with his back straight, chin level, and a straight face, which angered as much as it hurt you.
âYou didnât give me the option!â
Itâs not often that you could get surprise to show on his face; it usually meant you said something he didnât expect. The times when he didnât have a smooth reply or decision ready and turned over what you said in his mind. You felt a little more like an equal in those times. Right now, you just felt hurt and disappointed and also, despite getting an important detail wrong, like your marriage was still on shaky ground.
Again, he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. âWill you accept me now?â
You were hesitant but in his defence, he did make an effort to keep you safe. If you didnât take a risk on him, you couldnât expect him to do the same for you in the future if you needed it. ButâŠit was difficult to admit. Rufusâ default might be cold and distant but youâre used to it, now, too. You canât help but hope that with this revelation, he might agree to let you get closer. Hesitantly, you nodded.
You watched him process how surprisingly easy that was.
That he could have confessed a long time ago and saved you both grief.
âThis is the sort of situation where an apology is necessaryâŠisnât it?â he asked stiffly, crossing his wrists behind his back.
He was obviously uncomfortable but he deserved it. You nodded.
He cleared his throat, but you didnât call him out on procrastinating. Then he put his hand to his chest and bowed slightly. âIâm sorry.â
Itâs clear heâs mimicking Tseng. Has he never had to genuinely apologize?! âRufus, Iâm your wife. Not your boss.â
You get treated to a second surprised Rufus in one night. âRight, right.â
He stepped close enough to hold you by your upper arms and gave you a more genuine apology. Itâs not exactly what you had in mind but you wonât complain for now. Youâre tired of being angry and hurt. But also, curious now. After some reluctance, he agreed to show you his fangs. All he had to do was close his mouth and open it again and there they were.
You hummed thoughtfully, immediately reaching into his mouth. âTheyâre shorter than I expected.â You pressed on one tooth from behind to test how solid they were, careful not to prick yourself on the point. You touched the other one. They felt the same as regular teeth, just longer and sharper. It was fascinating. âDo you cut your tongueâŠ?â
Grabbing your hands, he spoke your name. âWhy arenât you afraid of me?â
âYou would have hurt me by now if you wanted to.â
Still holding your hands, he asked, âIs that all?â He watched, or searched, your face for something.
You frowned, confused. It was the first answer that came to mind. And it was true.
Quickly, he kissed your temple and pressed his cheek to it, his hands coming up to hold your head still so you couldnât turn and see his face. The closeness sped up your heartbeat. âI was hoping you would say you cared about me,â he said quietly.
You were stunned, not answering initially. âBut I do.â
âAre you telling the truth?â
You detected a faint precious hope in the last word of his question. âYes. I thought you were a smart man,â you added.
Your hands had found their way into his clothes at some point, holding the white fabric. He growled at your joke but still, brought his arms down around you, arms and all, and held tight. Again, it felt right to be so close to Rufus. He let go but you immediately pulled him back.
âI need more. You don't hold me long enough.â
He hummed thoughtfully. âIf you're wondering why I never did, it's because you always looked like you wereâŠdelicious,â he said, somewhat sheepishly. âAnd I didnât want to hurt you, in case I lost control.â
You took his answer in silently. Then you asked, âWhat about that guy earlier?â
âHeâs bland,â he sighed. He tucked your head under his chin with a hand to the back of it. âI didnât realize you liked this.â
âOf course I do,â you murmured. It felt right again, but this time without the bit of anxiety in the back of your mind that he might just be tolerating you. Also, your mind naturally drifted, wondering if there were signs that Rufus was different that you missed. Suddenly, you gasped and leaned back. âThat's why you tell everyone you're allergic to garlic! I thought you were just a weirdo that hated the taste.â
He raised an eyebrow at the mild insult. âYes. It's more that it's a poison for me. Which is a shame because I like the smell as much as anyone.â
Next you grabbed his arm to pull up his sleeve. âThat's why you have a cheaper stainless steel watch instead of silver.â
âI helped design this,â he said defensively.
âA watch doesn't make or break a man,â you pointed out. Then you yawned and yawned big.
âIt's late.â
You agreed and the two of you went upstairs to get ready for bed. You continued to pester him about details that might have pointed to what he was during your marriage. Standing next to him while brushing your teeth, you asked if the other Turks knew. No, and they knew better than to pry. Next, was this the reason he leaves early for work and comes home late, when it's dark? Yes and no, because there is just that much work to do as president.
Lying next to him, in the dark and still yawning, you asked, âDo you need to sleep?â
âNo.â He came closer to kiss your temple. âI usually wait until you fall asleep and sneak down to my home office.â
âOkay.â You accepted his answer. But then you said how you really felt. âI wish you'd stay.â
You didn't hear if he replied because you fell asleep.
The next morning, you woke up stiff, with tension from yesterdayâs stress. You barely move before you hear, âGood morning,â murmured behind you. You roll over, pleasantly surprised to see Rufus sitting there with an elevated tray over his lap, piled with reports along with a computer pad on the bed nearby. He spares you a glance before flipping a page over to read the next one.
You wiggle closer. âIs it time to go to work?â
He leans over to plant a kiss on your hair, then returns to the report again. âI was about to leave.â
He wonât get away this time. You pull him back down by the arm to give a smooch on the cheek, and say, âCan you leave a little later?â
He sighs thoughtfully, then agrees to stay. You curl up close to him while he continues to read reports, types on the computer pad, and makes the occasional call to Tseng.
Some time passes and you're so comfortable and relaxed that you nearly fall back asleep. Instead, you interrupt his work and pull him down for another kiss. He could have scolded you for keeping him from his workâyouâve never tried to do this before so you don't know what he would usually do. He didn't; he hummed in appreciation. You kept going, kissing him over and over until the look on his face told you he forgot the reports existed at all. He pushed the tray away to get into a more comfortable position.
In the process of kissing more and more, like youâre making up for lost time, he ended up on top of you. When you needed to come up for air, he frowned mildly, just taking in the sight of you beneath him instead of your usual position. You've never seen him hesitant like this before. It was disconcerting in a way you didn't expect. This must be the small price to pay for no longer letting him just lead you from a distance. Itâs awkward.
Until he glances down.
âYou would look better without this,â he says, referring to what you wear to bed, already smirking at the thought of you being naked.
You know that look. The look all men get when theyâre eager for their women to get naked. Youâre surprised for a second to see it on him, then you remember he admitted to holding back in the past. If heâs being more honest then that deserves a reward.
He helped you pull your clothes off, then he started kissing your chest. Soft kisses, glancing up at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His kisses wandered down your body, while you fought the urge to say, âNo, you don't have to!â Despite being embarrassed, you did want this. It naturally led to his head being between your open thighs.
Rufus had never been down there with his mouth, so you were sensitive. You put your hands to his hair, clutching his head as if he might change his mind any second and stop. You thought you'd be uncomfortable with this and have the urge to retreat back to the distance you were both used to. Instead, your fingers dug into his scalp as he continued. He didn't seem to need to come up for air or rest his jaw and your orgasm surprised you a little when it hit.
He crawled up your body and kissed you again, like before. You paused for a moment to recognize your scent on his breath.
There are certainly worse things to experience.
âMy turn?â he asked, when he lifted his head.
âSure.â
âThen let's try,â he murmured, gliding a hand down your front.
It was different this time when you spread your legs for him, more intimate. There wasn't any pain this time, just a little bit of momentary soreness as you got used to his size. Since you were already quite wet, he began moving immediately. He leaned over you, watching your face.
âYou're blushing,â he said.
Mortified, you slapped your hands over your face, peeking through your fingersâmaybe this wasn't going to be as easy as you thought. He didn't tease you further, merely kissing your hairline.
He slowed his thrusts into something more sensual while his lips found yours again. You gladly slid your tongue into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. ThenâŠyou felt a pinch-like sensation on your tongue, making you flinch back.
âOw, Rufus!â
He, of course, paused to check with a concerned expression. You didn't miss the slight widen of his eyes, nor that his fangs were out.
âYour tongue is bleedingâŠâ He zeroed in on it, lifting a hand to pry your mouth open farther with a thumb inside. He leaned closer andâŠit was somewhat like tongue-kissing but without lips. He swiped his tongue, tasting the blood. Then he pinned you with a narrowed gaze, glancing down towards your neck.
You weren't afraid of him but just in case things did go too far, you nudged him verbally. âRufus, you should finish.â
He shook his head, his eyes clearing. âYou're right.â
From then on, he occupied his time with closed mouth kisses. You didn't concern yourself with coming a second time. The intimacy of that moment was a lot. But it was what you'd been craving for a long time. He gradually sped up until he came with a stuttering groan, fangs peeking from beneath his upper lip, and his hips continuing to move slowly.
âYouâŠfeelâŠsoâŠgoodâŠâ
He pulled out and flopped onto his back beside you, his chest rising and falling as he returned to earth.
âThat's good feedback,â you teased, because you were mind was more clear than this.
He huffed gently through his nose, but smiled faintly. âThat's not fair. I wasn't in the right mind when I said that.â
He was still recovering while you stared at him, realizing that for once this wasn't just about trying to conceive.
Itâs the Sapphire Weaponâs attack on Junon. In the command center, Rufus is at the window watching the cannon aim at the Weapon, fire, and miss.
Heidegger: âReload!â
The cannon reloads, fires, and misses the Weapon.
Rufus: âEnough! Switch to manual mode!â
Heidegger: âBut sir!â
Rufus: âThatâs an order!â
Heidegger: âYes, sir.â
The console switches to manual mode (which probably means it spins around pointlessly but very visually, like in mecha anime.)
Rufus finds himself facing the window, sitting in his chair, hand on the joystick. Focus on his eyes as he concentrates. The Weapon approaches at full speed.
Heidegger: âSir, you have to fire.â
Rufus says nothing, continuing to aim with the joystick
The weapon emerges from the water and begins to charge its ray.
Heidegger: âSIR!â
Rufus fires and pierces the weapon.
Wouldnât that be a pretty cool scene?
(It's @demial4 who notice the title "Attack of the Weapon" in Junon theater)
You dropped to one knee. You had lostâyou knew that full wellâbut you refused to admit it. Not yet; that would have pleased him. You looked up at him; he towered over you. He, too, knew perfectly well that you had lost. His eyes were lowered, watching you. Two blue flames waiting patiently for you to surrender. Then a faint smile touched his lips. That was new.
