Aaand to finish off Vincent week, here's some complete filth for the prompt Glint.
18+ Shibari. Dom/Sub Dynamics and Bottom!Vincent. (Reader is neutral but has a cock/strap)
Vincent was beautiful, trussed up in knotted, red silk. He stared up at you with complete trust in his eyes, breathing heavy with anticipation as his body had trembled with want.
The red rope was a stunning contrast to his pale skin, outlining lithe limbs and haunting scars. He shuddered, bit at his lip as you'd drawn rope tight across his chest and back, dressing him in a harness of your own creation and adoration of him. You had dragged knots over his nipples, used your mouth on them, settled the rope in position, forced them to stay hard and protruding. Lines draped over his waist and hips, restricting his movements, forcing his arms back and pushing out his chest, muscles straining. Patterns knotted over his balls, tight, holding them drawn out and in place as your rings spiraled up the shaft of his impossibly hard cock. You'd watched with a smirk as the anticipation leaking from him had stained the colour dark.
He's even more beautiful now though, mouth held open in a silent scream as wild, sweaty hair falling in a tangled mess down his back. He's strung from the ceiling, knees a whispered touch above the mattress as you fuck him completely senseless. He takes your cock like he was born for it, squeezing around you, the resistance making your hips work harder as his pleasure builds. You hold him tightly, hands on his hips as you fuck into him from behind while his torso swings from the suspension.
He's struggling to handle it as you hit his prostate, tears staining tracks down his pretty face. You yank his head back and he hisses, moaning at the strain of his bowed out chest as the angle rubs you perfectly deep inside of him. You lick the tears from his cheeks, praising him, biting at his jaw as he gives in to the pleasure. The usual spark in his eyes, that glint of worry and overthinking he always wears in his expression is gone completely, replaced by the desperation of his complete submission to you. He's yours in mind and body, every single part of him begging for you even though you've overwhelmed his conscious thoughts.
So when you finally take pity on him and tell him to come, the command purred by his ear as you bite down hard on the back of his neck. He screams, introducing your name to the entire neighbourhood as he trembles, shuddering in your grasp, growing limp against your ropes as pleasure blanks out his body, mind and soul, and he becomes yours completely.
To make up for the tease yesterday, here’s some actual Monster Stuff 😜😅.
18+ Partial Transformation Monsterfucking, written for the prompt Rake. I'm using it as the creature, but also as in raking claws down your back, hehehe.
Vincent is changing as you ride him, teeth elongating into snarling fangs before your eyes. His head twists from side to side, hair a wild, tangled mess that's quickly growing longer, while his eyes flash. Flickering between red, orange and yellow as his pupils shudder from circles to slits while you move back and forth on his cock.
There's something different about this time, you're not sure what's causing this, but you don't want to stop. You like watching him change, a physical manifestation of his desperation and need. He had been moaning your name but the sound is even sweeter now, syllables leaving his lips in a jumbled hiss, formed by a tongue that's too long and a mouth that's far too wide.
You don't stop, your arousal continuing to build. His cock pulses and throbs inside of you as you move faster, pretty sure that's actually growing larger inside of you, your body stretching to accommodate him. His hips buck up into you roughly, sharp bones pressing to your skin as he forces you to grip tightly to his heaving chest.
His pectorals widen underneath your fingers, chest barrelling as his heart beats too strongly. His lungs heave, chest expanding too much for his skin, ribs pressing outwards, bulging through his chest.
A sudden pain grips your hips and you tilt downwards as black claws prick at your skin. His grip is strong, forcing your pace, not allowing you to stop. The pain feels good, enhancing the sensation and you trust him enough to not worry about him hurting you, even when he's like this.
"Are you alright Vincent?" you ask, out of breath, trying to slow down to allow him to reply, but his claws don't relent.
He growls in response, the sound so deep and animalistic that it vibrates through your entire body, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. His head thrashes, hips pushing upwards. You bounce roughly, almost folding off him, but his pricking claws hold you down. He holds you steady, setting a brutal pace and you do your best to keep up while he hits every spot inside of you. His cock is throbbing, changing size inside of you and it's addicting, the size knocking the breath from your lungs.
His claws are starting to hurt now, pushing past the line from enticing pain to distracting. You reach down and place your hands over them. They're so much bigger than they should be, pale, veins and tendons prominent and flexing. He drags them down your hips, raking lines into your skin as you hiss, skin burning.
"Too much," you call out. His hands leave you immediately. They slap down on either side of the mattress, shredding and tearing at the sheets, ripping through them with his claws like butter. The sound only turns you on more.
You try to ride him, to pick up the pace you were at before, but his hips are bucking too much. Without his support you're almost flying off him, struggling to keep yourself upright and keep up your rhythm on his cock.
Vincent is still tearing through the sheets, he's shredded them down to the mattress now and foam flies around you. He's growling, hissing as his mouth is forced wide open around fangs that no longer fit in his mouth. Lifting up his too large hands, the black claws wicked sharp and so much longer than they were before, he presses them around your hips. He grips you carefully, skin against his huge palms, longer fingers not touching your skin.
He flips you over roughly, crawling on top of you, cock somehow not leaving your body as you grip onto him for support. He looks down at you with his changing eyes, yellow, red and slitted. Hair that is far too long and thick, ends tipped with blood red covers you, blocking out all the light. He's all you can see, your perfect ethereal and sometimes monster of a boyfriend.
His hands are by your head, claws already shredding the mattress as he pushes his hips forward. The strength in them is incredible, every part of your body oversensitive and singing for him, stretched and hot and wanting more. If this kills you, then you'll die happy.
You reach out and cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over a protruding fang as he nuzzles into your touch softly in a complete contradiction to how hard he's fucking his cock into you. "Vincent, fuck me, I want it," you grin, bracing yourself, and preparing for him to lose control.
Finally, it's time for the next part of Call Me Chaos!
Check out the previous parts on Ao3 if you wanna catch up.
18+ Partial Transformation Monsterfucking
You shouldn't have said that, holy fuck should you not have said that. Your subconscious mind is a traitor and your body is far too curious to be trusted. Yeah sure, you've fantasized about similar things to this before, late at night, both before and after you met Vincent. But this is insane.
You can't take that tiny word back. Well, maybe you could. You think the creature currently wearing your boyfriends skin would respect your consent, but you also know that Chaos would be relentless in its pursuit of you, now it knows a part of you wants this.
It's had been too easy to say yes, to just give in to what is usually such a normal give and take. You're sitting in Vincent's arms, wrapped up against the familiar warmth of his chest with the flutter of his cape around you. In this position, you would normally always say yes to him. Maybe he just has a cold and that's why his voice is so strained, why he's hissing out some syllables. From your position, looking straight ahead, you can't see the black markings dragging down his face, or the shadow of wings and horns sprouting from his body.
"I will make it worth your—wait—yes??" Chaos exclaims, words starting purring and seductive before morphing into a frantic, animalistic chirp of surprise that's far too cute. "Yes? Yessss?" it hisses, excitement clear in its approximation of Vincent's voice. Your entire body starts to shake, vibrating slightly as wings begin to flutter behind you in anticipation.
The monstrous hand at your chest rises slowly to your chin. It's Vincent's normal arm, so you don't react with any apprehension, even though the black claws that usually tip his fingers are somehow retracted. Chaos takes your face in its grip and carefully tilts your head, forcing you to look up at your lover's twisted face. His demonic horns have grown more corporeal, hair falling wildly around them. Black marks run from the corners of his eyes to his cheeks, outlining his sharp jawline and contrasting pale skin. Elongated fangs peek from lips that are slightly too red, while the corners of a mouth spread too wide turn upwards in a twisted, inhuman smile. Yellow, slitted eyes flicker, observing your every movement, tracking you like prey. You hate how much your traitorous body and mind is into this.
Chaos kisses you hard, tugging at your hair and dragging you upwards. you're forced to stretch out, body tense so you can reach its lips. It kisses so unlike Vincent, overly eager and sloppy with little finesse and far too much tongue. The kiss tastes right though, feels right, even as a too long tongue tries to ease its way down your throat. This creature clearly isn't Vincent even though it's so much like him, eager in a different way that makes your heart race all the same.
You choke as Chaos teases at the back of your tongue and you pull away spluttering. It laughs, Vincent's laugh, a full bodied, humoured chuckle that lowers your guard. You force it back up.
"I have conditions," you state quickly, firmly, before Chaos can distract you again, not that you've thought of anything just yet.
"Anything for my human," Vincent's voice purrs by your ear, split tongue licking up your cheek while an arm bands tighter around your waist.
"You will stop immediately if I ask you to."
"Of course, My Sweet."
"And you will answer all of my questions honestly."
Chaos nods, heading tilting to the side with curiosity.
"Out loud."
Chaos' grin splits Vincent's face in two. "I will answer my curious little human's questions as honestly as I can."
You nod, knowing that's the best you're going to get. "My first question," you sigh, taking in a deep breath. "Will Vincent be alright with this?"
Chaos cackles, a manic, animalistic thing, much more like a hyena that a human. "He does not need to know."
"He is my partner," you snap back, "and you are not."
Chaos sighs, eyes slightly downcast. "He is a prude and frustratingly unobservant, however, my sweet human, even he has noticed the way your eyes wander when you are faced with the Galian Beast. Your thoughts are not subtle, little one."
You balk, feeling suddenly flushed and overheated. You had hoped that he wouldn't notice, that no one would notice. Galian is huge, strong, muscled, imposing and protective, and he looks so much like Vincent. He's sweet, open with his affection on the rare occasions that he's not overcome with bloodlust, and you have definitely stared. You know that thoughts about a creature like that should repulse you, but it's Vincent so it doesn't, and Chaos is making you feel the same way.
"The Galian Beast feels arousal when you scratch the base of his horns," Chaos cackles, shifting behind you. Shadowy wings come around you, blocking out the light and warmth from the fire. They're crosshatched with red veins, dark and bat like. "You already belong to all of us, my sweet degenerate of a human," Chaos laughs, pulling you into a bruising kiss.
Chaos' tongue is everywhere, sloppy and slightly sweet tasting as it pushes between your lips. Vincent's monstrous arm slides down your chest and starts to grope roughly at your breast. The fabric of your shirt is still slightly wet, the texture cool but harsh against your skin. Heat pours off Vincent's fingers, warming your chest even as your bra blocks most of the sensation.
Chaos gropes roughly, tugging, moaning into your mouth as you push your chest against eager fingers. The wings around you shift, cocooning you until the only thing that you can see is Vincent's face and the monstrous markings on it that show you Chaos is in control.
Chaos pulls back from your kiss, long tongue hanging from its mouth. Both ends of it move independently, swirling as it shifts to lick at your neck and the junction of your shoulder. Vincent's breathing shudders, a rush of heated air over slick skin as it continues to grope at your chest, fingers squeezing tightly as it plays with your flesh.
"More," it whines against your skin as it begins to squirm underneath your body. The rough grip leaves your chest and you immediately mourn the loss. Chaos lifts you up effortlessly, standing you on your feet. You squirm, struggling but barely feeling any strain as it keeps you steady.
Chaos whips Vincent's cloak off effortlessly with a flurry of red, leaving him covered in black and gold. He looks different underneath his cloak somehow, chest and shoulders broader, waist narrower, hips flaring out further to highlight the obvious and much larger than normal bulge at his crotch. Chaos throws Vincent's cloak to the floor, laid out straight; you realise with a start that it's for you to lie on, to protect you from the ground.
"Lie back," Chaos purrs, channelling Vincent's voice to encourage you. At this point, you don't mind the hissing strangeness of Chaos' voice, and that frightens you a little bit. Chaos stares at you, eyes darting across your whole body, looking at you with appreciation and lust, it makes heat pool between your legs.
Suddenly feeling apprehensive, you're not quite sure how to proceed. Chaos has reassured you that Vincent will be alright with this, that apparently all of the creatures inside of him have agreed to share you, but you're still unsure. Vincent hates his monsters and all of the inhuman parts of himself, but you also don't think he would have a problem if you were intimate with Galian. He knows how you feel, apparently. Surely he would have said something if he didn't want you to act on those feelings.
"Hurry human," Chaos purrs, interrupting your thoughts. "I am starving."
You expect to feel like prey when you turn, but Chaos' expression is completely different. Tongue hanging from Vincent's mouth, curled up as the split ends of it move, swirling, licking and tasting. Chaos is going to eat you, but it's not in any way that you won't enjoy.
"What about fiends?" you ask, not wanting to be interrupted, not wanting to be undressed and vulnerable, you're still in a fucking cave in the middle of a storm for fuck's sake.
"If any are stupid enough to appear then I shall gift you their heads," Chaos growls in response, clearly growing impatient.
You lie down on crimson fabric, on your back, the fabric soft underneath you. It's not incredibly comfortable, but it's more than enough cushioning from the uneven dirt of the floor. You hang your feet off the edge of the cloak, settling in the centre of it. It's more than wide enough to fit your entire body.
Chaos stands above you, seeming so much taller than Vincent's already impressive height. The shadow wings sprouting from his back add bulk to his frame, and the horns must add at least an extra foot of height. He looks like a monster, like the skeleton of him is Vincent, but everything else making him up is wrong. It looks like something is wearing his skin, essence seeping through the cracks. You should be repulsed, but there's something so fucking wrong with you, because you don't feel that way at all.
Chaos folds down between your legs, the movements unnatural and forced. It moves too smoothly while simultaneously using its limbs in ways that humans are not supposed to bend. Vincent's face grins manically, black lines splitting wide. Wings flutter behind Vincent's back with excitement, casting flickering shadows across the cave.
Chaos reaches out carefully, manoeuvring you effortlessly as it removes your pants, managing to not rip any of the material, or damage your boots. Immediately you feel self conscious, in a way that you certainly wouldn't feel with Vincent. You use that feeling to give you strength, to fight through your unease as wings, horns and that tongue move closer.
Chaos' tongue darts out, scenting the air like a snake might. It licks its lips, moaning like it can taste you. Yellow eyes narrow to slits, face contorting with hunger. It's going to eat you, hunt you down and then swallow you whole. Arousal drips from between your legs.
"I need to taste you, sweet human." Chaos rumbles. "Your scent in the air is maddening."
You nod slowly.
"Out loud pretty little thing," it taunts, face moving closer between your legs, that fucking tongue barely millimetres away from you.
Hot and heavy breath fans across your far too sensitive folds as large hands grab your thighs, forcing your legs apart. The slitted yellow eyes staring out from Vincent's body gaze directly down at your intimacy, at the bare, wet heat of your core. You squirm as a sudden oppresive prescence heats the air.
"B-be gentle," you stammer, suddenly so fucking apprehensive but you're not going to back down.
Chaos laughs and looks up from between your thighs, an animalistic grin on Vincent's face. "Gentle? You are mistaken Sweetling. I will make you scream until you forget his name, remembering only mine."
For the prompt Sunrise. SFW for once, don’t judge meeee.
I really wanted to put a scene like this in Chaos Theory from Vinny’s pov, buuut the timelines just don’t work 😭. So here it is for this week anyway
For the first time since Vincent decided to ignore the world, he found that he couldn't sleep. The metal floor of the Bronco had been comfortable enough—the group stuck because they hadn't been able to repair the plane before the sun set—but there had been too many people and they were all far too loud.
There was snoring, the flickering of a tail on fire, fitful tossing and sleep talking. It was too much. He was used to complete quiet, sealed away in the darkness of his coffin. Thick wood had kept out the rare sounds of pipes creaking or concrete settling during his slumber.
No one on this plane could hurt him, not even the Cetra with her bright smile. But it would be awkward if he awoke with a knife embedded in his chest, because he would have to explain why it didn't kill him. Vincent didn't want to deal with that.
So he moved quietly, almost floating, crept between deeply slumbering bodies and then up the stairs, carefully jumping up to the roof of the plane.
The sun was rising, muted oranges and pinks snaking across the sky, rising above endless water. It was the first sunrise Vincent has seen in over 27 years, and it was beautiful. The sound of the waves was soft, the temperature cool, wind low. He could still see some stars, though they were slowly being blotted out by the myriad of colours, somewhat heightened by his better than human senses.
He stared up at the sky, trying to commit the view to memory. He had slept for far too long, missed so much of the beauty that the world has to offer. He wondered, staring up at barely twinkling lights, if maybe all of this could be a new beginning for him, the sun rising on a new chapter of his frustrating, endless life.
"Let me help, Vincent," you say carefully, voice low and right by his ear, trying not to wreck the somewhat precarious mood between the both of you.
He says nothing, replying with just a grunt as his fingers continue fiddling with their current, apparently futile task.
You lean forward and kiss at his jaw and neck, pressing just below his ear as you grind your hips down against his lap, trying to heighten the tension and get him to give in.
"There is rust on my gauntlet," he explains, stammering slightly, voice catching in his throat. "The fingers don't have full range of motion."
"Really?" you tease, pressing your lips to his jugular as he swallows heavily. "I think it might just be your skills that are rusty."
He buries his face into your neck, sighing against your skin with defeat. "Fine," he mumbles, kissing at the junction of your shoulder, pulling away as his fingers slowly slide down your back to hold your hips.
You smile softly, trying to be reassuring and show him that you don't mind that little snafu. Leaning upwards while reaching behind your back, you watch his hungry eyes roam across your form. That's much better. You push out your chest, smirking as his gaze gravitates there, eager and wanting. Moving slowly, so he can watch, you adjust your position effortlessly; blindly, easily and one handedly undoing the pesky clasp on your bra.
Vincent has almost lost count of how many times it's been. He can handle it, because you're enjoying yourself and he could never bring himself to tell you to stop. You'd been worked up when you'd accosted him as he'd walked through the door, pushing him back against the wood, leaning up to kiss him while tugging him down roughly by the collar.
You'd been grinding yourself against his thigh at the door, working yourself up enough that by the time he'd managed to drag you into the bedroom, pulling your heated body on top of his on the bed, you'd come just from grinding on his clothed cock. You had soaked his pants, shaking and moaning while somehow managing to press the heat of your release hard enough against him that he too, had lost himself.
You've been together for long enough that he's not particularly embarrassed. You seem to enjoy his oversensitivity tremendously and your heightened excitement over his sometimes premature affections, combined with his stamina means that he has never really worked on improving himself in this regard.
You'd just moaned against him and sunk down to lick his release from dirty fabric, freeing him from his restrictive prison and taking him down your throat until he'd spilled again with a shuddering call of your name and a tangle of his fingers in the sheets.
That had gotten you going again, clothes hastily and messily discarded until you could rub the wet, leaking head of his cock roughly against where you're most sensitive, grinding on his shaft until you'd bitten down on the junction of his neck and shoulder hard with pleasure, forcing Vincent to hiss out something pathetic as his cock had traitorously spurted weakly against your skin.
You'd just rubbed his release into yourself as lubrication and then sat on his cock, enveloping him in tight heat as you shifted and shuddered around him. You've gotten off twice while he's been inside of you, he thinks, brain barely working. He can't focus and the only reason he's not completely incoherent is because of how many times he's managed to come so far.
Except now you're begging to be filled up, pleading for him, voice hoarse and breathless from how you've been yelling out his name. He doesn't think there's anything left for him to fill you with, you've milked him dry, but he increases his pace anyway, cock spasming as he loses himself again inside of you with a moan of your name and a stutter of breath.
Request was - Hi! Was wondering if I can have a Vincent or Sephiroth (its upto you) Sleeping Beauty AU fanfic where he kisses and saves the reader (a princess). Thanks so much!
Wutia Princess
You found yourself a long way from home. A Princess of Wutia, sister of Yuffie, but a little less energetic and a little more… Regal. You’d gone to Nibelheim to look for Materia, an idea that you and your sister Yuffie had. Look for Materia, make Wutia great again. ShinRa had to pay for their crimes.
So, when you came across the ShinRa mansion, you were sure that inside was a great treasure, lots of materia. After all, Ritch people had Materia. Though you had to admit the mansion was looking very… dilapidated.
Pushing the door open, you began your search. Cupboards stripped bare, bookshelves filled with mouldy old books half eaten by moths and other creepy crawly things. It was nothing but soul-destroying. You started ripping into the furniture and checking for cracks in the walls. Small spaces were where material or other weapons could be hidden.
Finally, you find a safe with a key inside, and guessing the key probably leads to something amazing. You spend the next few days looking for where it fits. Finally, you find a door that leads to a set of steps.
You raced down and, hitting the bottom step, became even more excited, finding a tunnel. Yes, of course, they would hide the best materia down here. During your search, you were repulsed by finding coffins but elated when you found a laboratory and more books.
“This must be where they make the materia,” you mutter lifting items and looking through papers, “Woops…” You mutter when you accidentally drop a glass vial.
“Oh, I feel… really weird,” You drop like a stone to the floor.
| |
Vincent, who at the moment of hearing running feet, emerged from his coffin. He stood by the door and listened for a while before opening wider to see what was happening. He approached the lab and watched as you searched through, muttering to yourself. The glass smashing and “oops” made him roll his eyes a little.
Quite calmly, Vincent walked to your limp body, picking you up and carrying you from the room and the basement altogether. He already knew what you had smashed on the floor and knew the antidote. His own white blood cell. He bit his lip, bent down, and kissed you full on the mouth. Within moments, you opened your eyes and punched.
Vincent staggered back, holding his nose, and chuckled a little. “I’ll take that as a thank you for saving your life,” he said in his gruff voice.
“More of a what the fuck do you think you're doing. You don’t just go around kissing people, you creep,” you snapped, glaring at the stranger.
“You’d poisoned yourself. My altered white blood cells have neutralised the threat…” He replied, turning to go.
“Hey, wait! You can’t just kiss and run!” You shout after him, scrambling off the bed and walking at a quick pace after him, “Do you live here?”
“In a sense… More trapped here,” He replied, continuing to walk.
“Trapped!? Now I really am interested!”
“Lucky me…” Vincent replied.
“Well, you kissed me. Congratulations, you’ve caught yourself a princess,” you say, holding out your hand.
He looked down and slowly shook it, “So I can call you Sleeping Beauty?”
“Very funny. No, you can help me look for Materia as an apology for invading my privacy.”
“Lucky me…” Vincent replied.
“Yep today is your lucky day.”
I'm sorry this is a bit later than Planned.
I was stupid and agreed to do two Christmas Fairs and now I'm racing to create god knows how many crochet toys and UKCA test ones I haven't tested yet >.<
"Sooo... what was with all the candelabras, anyway?"
Vincent looked up from his book to where you perched across from him, a faint furrow of confusion drawing his brows together. You smiled at him, clarifying after a moment, "In the basement of the manor! You had a lot of them. Like a weird amount. C'mon, what was up with that!"
He blinked, then let out a soft snort. "It was merely for lighting."
"No one needs that many candles just for lighting! And there were already electrical lights installed! Vinceeent!"
You pouted at him, and he raised a brow in return. When you held fast in your pouty expression, he finally gave a slight sigh. "I prefer the ambience of candlelight. Man-made lighting is... difficult on my eyes."
"Ohhhh. I guess that makes sense. Then wait, how come you're always squinting outside? That doesn't seem like it's any easier on your eyes than indoor lighting is!"
He was clearly resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, already turning his attention back to his book. "You may spend as much time as I have indoors, and then return to me with an answer of your own."
"Wh- no way! Vincent! Come on!"
Despite your fussing he didn't look up again, though the faintest of smirks tugged at his lips as he read. He could never resist the mystique of a simple question left unanswered.
"Sooo... what was with all the candelabras, anyway?"
Vincent looked up from his book to where you perched across from him, a faint furrow of confusion drawing his brows together. You smiled at him, clarifying after a moment, "In the basement of the manor! You had a lot of them. Like a weird amount. C'mon, what was up with that!"
He blinked, then let out a soft snort. "It was merely for lighting."
"No one needs that many candles just for lighting! And there were already electrical lights installed! Vinceeent!"
You pouted at him, and he raised a brow in return. When you held fast in your pouty expression, he finally gave a slight sigh. "I prefer the ambience of candlelight. Man-made lighting is... difficult on my eyes."
"Ohhhh. I guess that makes sense. Then wait, how come you're always squinting outside? That doesn't seem like it's any easier on your eyes than indoor lighting is!"
He was clearly resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, already turning his attention back to his book. "You may spend as much time as I have indoors, and then return to me with an answer of your own."
"Wh- no way! Vincent! Come on!"
Despite your fussing he didn't look up again, though the faintest of smirks tugged at his lips as he read. He could never resist the mystique of a simple question left unanswered.
There wasn’t time for words, so you gave Vincent a quick nod without hesitation. A heartbeat later he had you wrapped tightly, safely in his arms as he leapt.
You could hear the groaning of steel, the stony crack of concrete failing and buckling as the building now behind and beneath broke under the assault of the Deepground machine crashing into it. Anything to take out Vincent Valentine it seemed, and collateral on either side be damned. All you could see in the moment was Vincent's cloak whipping around wildly around both of you, his arms anchoring you firmly in spite of the winds rushing past that threatened to pull away anything that wasn't held onto tightly enough. Your grip on your pistol was white-knuckled.
As always, his landing was precluded by a moment of hovering, all of the momentum lost safely to avoid giving you whiplash. His arms unwound from their protective embrace, and you stepped back, peering around him at the heap of steel beams and concrete chunks that still shook as the machine now trapped beneath them attempted to free itself. A helicopter whirred in the distance, but it was too soon to tell whether it was from Deepground, or the WRO.
"That won't hold for long. We need to keep moving," Vincent spoke, interrupting your thoughts. You looked to him with a nod, holding your gun up by your shoulder in a show of readiness.
"Right. The sooner we get back to HQ, the better. Lead the way - I trust you."
He blinked at the belated answer to his question, then ducked his head just a little to hide his slight smile behind his cloak collar. You didn’t hide yours at all, and fell in behind him as he turned to hurry towards your destination.
You wouldn't have followed him this far if you didn't trust him.
He's heard the words too many times today, with far too many well wishes and gifts that he truly has no use for. They'll get put in a box, which you'll put in your apartment, and eventually all the jokes and odd picks that came from a place of good intentions but ultimately unawareness of what the gunslinger really wanted would be dispersed, one way or another. He rarely kept any of it, trusting you to handle the clutter.
But those words hit in a very different way here and now, breathlessly whispered by his ear before your lips press a kiss there.
It's not as if he has the capacity to focus on them anyway when you're grinding against him so perfectly, slick rubbed all over the tight bulge of leather with a blending of pleasure and pain. He needs out of the damn pants, but neither can he interrupt you enjoying yourself - all he can do is lean his head back atop the couch and try not to cling to your hips too tightly, a groan vibrating in his throat.
"Tell me what the birthday boy wants," you whisper again, nibbling along the shell of his ear. You're asking him to say things now? That's just unfair when he's so utterly distracted.
"You. Always. Please," he manages to utter those words without whining, and he can feel the excited shiver that runs through you.
"You've got me, always."
Perhaps that promise is the only gift he truly wanted.
warnings: dom reader/sub character, honeymoon fucking, porn with plot, angst, old people fluff, emotionally stunted vincent my beloved, blowjob, deepthroating, praise, body worship, handjob, alcohol and cigarette consumption, mentions of past failed relationships & slight body horror, drunk sex, reader is around vincent’s age and was a former SOLDIER, not exactly married, just two dumbasses playing around their feelings so sort of an accidental confession?
w.c: 3.5k
notes: this was actually supposed to be with barret but then my favoritism won. im sorry yall😔
“are you two married or something?”
the question popped up out of nowhere and the way aerith just dropped the question, paired with a cute smug face, was not helping the situation at all. the young woman seemed ready to dive into your personal life and learn all about the 30 years of long history between you both, eagerly awaiting an answer while tifa sighed and shook her head in the background.
when vincent first joined avalanche with a personal grudge in mind, he was the most silent person around besides him. sitting at the far back, in the corners, hiding away whenever he could and only holding a conversation with barely handful of words used. and yet when you decided to tag along for “the shits and giggles” as you said, vincent had been more… social.
mostly with you or cid, but the fact vincent valentine started to hold conversations more, not linger in the background and even actively stay in the main room to share drinks together after an ass-kicking was undeniably present. the broody man seemed to just hover around you, perpetually hunched hunk of a mass lingering near you like a shadow, always ending up reminiscing of your old days of working for shinra.
it was a surprise to the team to find out you were once a soldier for shinra around the same time vincent was a turk. someone who was as wild, carefree and rebellious like you bending to the will of a greedy corporation just felt… out of character. peculiar. unlikely. but the faded black and white photo you pulled out from your wallet proved it. you and vincent, side by side, much younger and softer without the cold glare life had planted in your eyes and certainly breaking the rules by not wearing the standard issued uniform.
either way, the second most silent member of avalanche had noticed something else on the two of your persons. a red piece of cloth — eerily similar to the material and color of vincent’s bandana — wrapped around the handle of your ōdachi style sword, and three headed dog keychain jingling from the butt of vincent’s gun.
the red cloth around your weapon handle, that could be explained by the simple “you being you” and your love for eccentric, popping bright colors. but the keychain on vincent was one that was hard to explain. the man was as dead as a corpse rotting away at the nearest hole in the earth and perhaps even as cold as one, if not colder, yet here he was donning a charm on the end of his threatening weapon, letting the weirdly cute thing jingle around whenever he whipped the weapon out to twirl it in the air with a dramatic flourish before firing with a loud BANG!.
there were just small pieces of you two on each other so much to the point that a drunk cid had accidentally mistaken one of you for the other at the bar. not so surprising considering the both of you enjoyed wearing a seemingly matching shades of red, long outer wears. something aerith and cait sith cooed out about it being ‘old couple cutesy-dudesy’. words vincent grunts loudly at while you merely grin and play along, goading the younger ones into believing you could very much potentially be an item and not just some old work buddies. the younger ones eat it up every time.
standing atop the roof of the chocobo farm, you enjoy your privacy as the thin cigarette in your hold warms your cold fingers. the sky was clear this night, indicating a good clear, sunny day all day tomorrow. it would be a good day to head out in your opinion. to make way towards the next town. even with the door leading to the stairs that took you down to the second and first floors of the farm house was closed shut, you could hear some of the music blasting, the loud cheers and calls for singing along to the party song. they sure as hell had a lot of stamina when it came to partying, you have realized. something good ol’ vinnie and you can’t exactly seem to keep up with now that you were both pushing your 60s.
“i thought i told you to drop that bad habit of yours” the low timbre of vincent’s voice scared you for a moment, making you jolt where you had been leaning against the rails.
”by the dead, make some noises when you’re creeping around next time, will you? nearly made me drop my cigarette and start a fire” you complained under your breath, leaning back away from the railings so at least you won’t be dropping the lit ciggy to the grass. the fright left quickly, replaced by some anxiousness and the need to defend yourself filling its spot as vincent raised a brow at you, staring at the cancer stick in your hold and to your face. there was slight pink on your cheeks — either from the alcohol you’ve chugged earlier when competing against barret or from the chill winds, he doesn’t know — a pink that he uncharacteristically found endearing.
”a whole decade of scolding your ears off about your stupid habits and yet you still have yet to let it go. are you really this dumb or should i scold you for a few more decades as well?” the former turk grumbled, clearly disappointed to see you with a lit cigarette in hand. and yet he reached out all the same, taking the stick from your loose hold to take a slow inhale himself. the warm orange glow lit his face in warm colors, giving more eerie colors to the lone red glow of his right eye. but the effects of hojo’s doings or chaos being infused into his body never scared you. in fact, you liked him even more with the eerie eye glows and uncontrollable growls and rare purrs.
”you say that yet look at you, doing the same mistakes as me” huffing at the unfairness he brought to you, you wait as he puffs out the smoke in one slow exhale, taking the cigarette away from you when you held out a hand expectantly. his refusal to hand you your cigarette back left you huffing at him, the petulant look on your face making vincent grin as he dodges your attempts to take the tobacco back. sooner or later, you would start ranting about the unfairness of his long limbs and stealing things that were not his.
4, 3, 2 —
“vinnie, i swear by gaia” ah, there it was. that little grumble of a ’threat’ you give him before full on out throwing your body at him to get back whatever it may be that you had lost to him.
”you’re going to ask for your cigarette back, and if i say ‘no’ — which we both know that i will — you’ll throw yourself at me?” and there it was again, that little twitch in your brows and the way you run your tongue over your fangs in hopes of holding back your words. he had you all figured out, after all. a whole 30 years had passed since you went your separate ways and yet you still act the same way. nothing about you had changed except for the few strands of grey from stress of shinra and having to deal with the young ones at avalanche now, and the smile lines around your eyes and lips.
you had already gotten grey hairs and yet he wasn’t around to witness them, vincent realized, feeling a sense of failure at the way he had just seemingly left you out of nowhere to deal with life and shinra all alone by yourself. what good was there to him in the first place? first failing to keep lucrecia safe, then failing to keep her son safe and now failing you. he always failed those closest to him, didn’t he? choosing to run and hide away because he was dealing with some shit, forgetting that those around him were dealing with their own demons too.
such a failure—
“vincent” blinking, shaking his head to clear out his thoughts at least for this night, the lone glow of his eye turned to look at you. you had your cigarette back in hand, but the tobacco roll seemed to be the least of your worries as you stood by his side, holding him by the arm as if to stabilize him. or had you heard his inner turmoil? that would be embarrassing. you were already dealing with the drawback symptoms of mako injections and yet his selfish idiocy would force you to look after him as well. no, this time, he’ll be the one to look after you. this time, you can lay your head on him and rest.
gloved hand grasping at your bare one, his bigger hand wrapped like a protective embrace around the scarred and marred one of yours. burnt from years of handling lighters and zippos, scarred from the decades of serving under shinra, left calloused from the countless battles. squeezing your hand as if to convince himself, vincent took his time to drink in your visage.
ah, how much you had changed and yet how so little as well.
there was a certain heaviness in your gait now, a droop to your shoulders that did not fit someone as bright and confident as you, and shadows that seemed to cling even with the full moon shining down just for you. you have changed, but vincent wanted to be by your side all the same.
”i’m fine, [name]” grumbling low at the back of his throat, the former turk’s gaze never leave the sight of you in all your current glory, taking his time to stare at every stress lines, every laugh lines, every strand of hair that was on the process of going grey greedily for he had not seen you for the past near 30 years. and he had remembered with a sudden start that yes, he had missed you. he had missed his closest friend, his companion, the only one who had been the one constant in his life.
vincent valentine had missed his [name].
”just… reminiscing” another squeeze to your hand, but this time, you returned his shy touches back at him, holding his hand tighter in your hold as if he would leave you again, just like that day 30 years ago.
”mmh.. either way, i’m glad to have you back here with me, vinnie”
”…i’m glad to be back by your side too, [name]”
“you know that you don’t have to do this unless you really want to, right? i wouldn’t want you growing uncomfortable around me just because we’re a little tipsy and ditzy right now”
“i know that, [name]” vincent muttered against your lips when you pulled back just enough to make sure for the nth time that he was okay with doing this, chasing afterwards to silence your charming drunk rambles. you would have never guessed how touch starved your idiot was until now, with him climbing up to straddle your lap, the golden claws of his gauntlet leaving bits and pieces of tears in your shirt, right where they fisted at the collar of your clothes.
”i’m just…” mumbling against your lips, the chapped lips of his stole a few more kisses before reluctantly puling away from your lips, looking down at himself where the clasps of his cloak had been undone to give you more skin to gnaw at. fingering one of the many buckles that held the leather skin tight around himself, vincent hesitates about what to do or say to you.
of course, you had already seen the horrors hojo had left behind on his skin; the healed autopsy scar with its thick stitches and bunched up flesh, inner elbow of his where the old scars of hundreds or so needles had pierced to keep him tethering to life while his body is cut open again and again to force chaos and protomateria inside him. you held no qualms about the scars he carried, saying that you had your own scars too and all didn’t matter in the end because vincent was still vincent to you. scars and all.
but, he still felt a sense of reluctance when it came to taking the leather off. something about baring himself whole to you again, in such a vulnerable state, made him feel… something. anger at having shown you marks of his weakest moments? shame for letting your sharp mind realize that he is still yet to come to accept the changes chaos made to his body? embarrassed because he was so desperate to feel your touch on him?
vision spinning and rolling around, vincent didn’t realize his bigger physique had been successfully flipped around so that he would be the one to lie on his back atop the soft cushions of your room until he saw your stupid grinning face shining down on him. ah, he had let down his guard again, and you had taken the chance to make a fool out of him. but if this happens every time only when he is with you, vincent held no complaints.
”how about we take it one step at a time, v? let me take the lead this time and we’ll figure out what you like, yeah?” leaning over him, you pepper kisses on his flushed cheeks, making chaos rumble deep in his chest like an overgrown spoiled cat under your care.
humming instead and telling chaos to shut up in his consciousness, vincent helps you takeoff his pants when your finger tugged at its hem. lifting up his hips, allowing you to take off the leather clothing, followed by his boxers that had an embarrassing small spot of wetness on the front, valentine hid his face behind his hands at the look on your face. one filled with so much love and tenderness, it made his stomach grow warm and mind grow dazed. he couldn’t bring himself to look down at you, not when you were peppering old gun shot wounds on his thighs with such care.
“you’re so pretty, vinnie. it makes me jealous sometimes, looking at your gorgeous figure and handsome face” mumbling words against his skin, dragging your lips over the new and old wounds, there was heat on his cheeks and ears. he knew he was flushing red like some idiot, swayed by some few words that you whispered against his flesh as if carving your convictions of his beauty into his soul.
”don’t—“ breath hitching, the former turk curses himself out in his mind at how whiny his words came out just now. you were a disease to him, did you knew that? even worse than chaos or the materia in him, like some tiny sentient liquid of poison that traveled into his heart whenever you wanted.
”don’t say useless things like that” swallowing down the moan that threatened to escape, vincent fists his hands into his hair, hoping the tugging pain into his scalp would distract him from the shameful feeling of his cock slowly twitching to life.
”but i’m being genuine here, vincent. you’re beautiful to me and i appreciate every moment we’ve spent together. and i would never regret anything that is between us” trailing kisses down his rising and falling stomach, he could feel you paying closer attention to the end of the autopsy scar there before turning to kiss the tip of his cock. the embarrassment he felt could be enough to kill him at this point, and vincent low-key wished it would choke him to his early grave right here and now.
”i will never regret you”
a sharp gasp tears through the tortured man’s mouth, letting go of his hold on his hair to look down at you between his legs, mouth swallowing his now hard cock slowly, inch by inch until he could feel his own tip nudging your throat all the way inside. choking on his saliva, vincent wanted to push your head off of himself. too tight, too warm, vincent was sure he was losing his mind and that his cock was melting into a puddy in your throat if it hadn’t been for the small outline he could see through your hollowed out cheeks.
”d-don’t! speak with your mouth full you-oughh.. mmhg ffffuck—!” throwing his head back, the soft bounce of the mattress made his head swim. paired with how you hummed around his dick, making his legs twitch violently, vincent was already growing short on breath as he panted like a dog. the choked out groans and the occasional breathy whimper that left him didn’t sound like him at all. vincent sounded like a stranger to his own ears.
“nnngh.. ha-aaagh [n-name], sloouwwh.. slow down a-a bit..♡︎~” whimpering, he hadn’t even realized that he was letting out the most pathetic sounds of his life when your hand patted against his own, lacing your fingers together. he could only choke on his noises, briefly raising his head up to look down at where you had gotten yourself so comfortable between his thighs. that soft look in your eyes while you damn near milked his soul dry made his ears burn up again, hiding behind his free arm just as quickly as he had peered up to stare at you.
vincent can’t bring himself to look again, in fear that it would be the last push, making his already weak will against you crumble entirely and cum down your throat. in shame, the old friend of yours tries to hold himself back as much as he could. stomach rising and falling in quick repetitions, the hand you’ve laced together squeezing around your fingers tightly, tugging and legs jerking in threat of closing around your head. a strange tasting pre dripped down your mouth, leaving behind trails of himself inside you already. had he known he was already breaking in your hold, you’re sure your idiot of an old co-worker would have made a sweet noise that did not fit his image.
trying to speak his name, to try and comfort him that it was okay to lose himself, you caress the inside of his thigh with your free hand. the constant vibrations your mouthful of talking made around his cock was the last straw. pulling his leg away, feeling himself sweat under his leather top, the red eyed man choked on his own moan when he felt his tip nudge against your throat, spilling himself down your mouth with a weak, pitiful whine that could be mistaken as your name.
perhaps it had something to do with him not longer being a human, but when the former turk came, he spilled a good amount of load. enough to make you pull away without being able to swallow all of them. cooing out some words of encouragement, your tight fist strokes him through his high, making his legs shake under the sudden strain.
”e-enouughh.. [n-name], that aagh hagh.. that’s enough..” pawing weakly at your wrist, you hum at his words before eventually letting goof your grip around his softening dick that spurted out the last few drops of his cum.
”feel better?” you ask him quietly, lying down on top of him with your full weight, knowing that he liked the heaviness that helps to ground his mind to reality. vincent’s breath was still jittery, yet to truly come down from his orgasm high. until he does, you decide to just wait for him, peppering more kisses on the small slip of skin where his top clasp that was undone.
”..y-yeah… uuhmg. all go-ood”
“has everyone packed everything? we will not be coming back if one of you forgot something behind, y’all know that right? gasoline is expensive around these parts” cid does his own little version of a roll call, standing on the top of the stairs that led to the inside of his aircraft.
some of the group called back out full of energy, some merely grunted groggily, their last night party hangover still yet to leave. some dug through their bags, mumbling under their breaths about making sure everything was indeed packed. you were of the last group, brows furrowed as you felt that empty feeling in your head that just screamed you forgot something. whatever it may be.
”uhhh, i think i might be missing something. let me just check my room real qui—“
”your gloves” vincent called out from behind you, the pair of old, worn out leather pair in his own gloved hand that he held out for you. ah, you probably left it behind while packing your things in your early morning haze. the leftover alcohol in your system clearly didn’t help.
”ah, right. sorry” holding your hand up, you feel the slight weight it gives as vincent places it in your grasp, his hand wrapping your fist around them and lingering for a moment bit too longer.
”if you leave it again, i’ll find them for you” the glow in his eye seemed to burn just a bit brighter when he said his promise, gloved hand pulling away from yours with the warmth left wrapped behind yours still.
and you made sure to glare at a few of the younglings who snickered at the background.
here is a list with everything australia is banning for minors under the age of 16.
Lego Play and Steam among the unexpected additions to the list that includes Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and X
some kids won’t be able to contact their parents with the loss of whatsapp. they are banning basically all socials for kids. strict parents? you will only be able to stay at home and do nothing because there’s no way you’ll go outside. there’s no way you’ll talk to your friends /dir
they are banning LEGO PLAY. that is unnecessary.
if you are an australian citizen PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION
e-petitions
social media apps are rolling out ai age detection. do you think they want to go through the hassle of getting everyone to sign in with their correct ages? NO. they want you to upload photos of your face, and photos of your passport.
you know social media apps have the ability to send your data to third party companies, why would they not do it for this?
a world where kids’ information is easily accessible on the internet, even just the statement that they are under a certain age DOES NOT PROTECT THEM AT ALL.
they will have filtered access to recent news only. they will have no variety in their opinions. whatever the australian government provides them will be their only information to rely on.
if you are NOT an australian citizen, reblogs will help. thank you.
here is a list with everything australia is banning for minors under the age of 16.
Lego Play and Steam among the unexpected additions to the list that includes Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube and X
some kids won’t be able to contact their parents with the loss of whatsapp. they are banning basically all socials for kids. strict parents? you will only be able to stay at home and do nothing because there’s no way you’ll go outside. there’s no way you’ll talk to your friends /dir
they are banning LEGO PLAY. that is unnecessary.
if you are an australian citizen PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION
e-petitions
social media apps are rolling out ai age detection. do you think they want to go through the hassle of getting everyone to sign in with their correct ages? NO. they want you to upload photos of your face, and photos of your passport.
you know social media apps have the ability to send your data to third party companies, why would they not do it for this?
a world where kids’ information is easily accessible on the internet, even just the statement that they are under a certain age DOES NOT PROTECT THEM AT ALL.
they will have filtered access to recent news only. they will have no variety in their opinions. whatever the australian government provides them will be their only information to rely on.
if you are NOT an australian citizen, reblogs will help. thank you.
you ever read smut so good your coochy just clenches hard as hell automatically and it feels like a punch to the uterus? Like yoooooo, wtf you doing in there hosting a galla?
