Title: Indulgence
C/CP: Reno/Yuffie
Prompt: Selfish
Summary: Bite me.
Word Count: 392
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: There's implied sex and a very mild blood-play kink. Oh. And run on sentences like you wouldn't believe. Not beta'd.
Disclaimer: If I owned FFVII, you think I'd be writing fanfic at 3am? No, I don't own Final Fantasy VII nor any of it's characters. No profit made, damnit.
A.N: I'm tired and I haven't written for ages. As for this particular fandom or these characters, well, I've never written them, so we'll see how flamboyant I can make this train wreck, shall we? Lets. // Constructive crit welcomed. Please.

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Tifa would probably faint if she knew. Faint and then scold you. A lot. (Ugh.)

Vincent would give you that look - the one you hate, but get a lot of the time anyway, like when you borrow his materia and then 'forget' to give it back . . . or like, 'lose' it.

Cloud would whip out his giant, shiny sword of doom and--- oh, oh wow. Okayokayokay, you don't care what Cloud would do right now. You shudder beneath him and then you're not thinking any more. And your head's filled with helium and your stomach's filled with knots and your lungs are filled with thick, warm honey as you gasp for breath while his lips work over your stomach and up, up, up towards your faintly parted lips. You're ready (maybe), able (probably) , and willing (gods, yes) and father time ceases to exist as he bites down on the flesh surrounding your collarbone.

Your eyes snap open, the sting of pain shooting it's way up your neck and through your flat-footed nerves, and suddenly you're both face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye and he has your blood smeared across swollen smirking lips and your taste on his tongue. You want to giggle since it bears an uncanny resemblance to lipstick but you don't because you also note that it matches his hair, his scars, his stains - and you find you kind of like that.

You don't know if it's because you're possessive or if it's because you've always been kind of selfish (according to Shake who obviously isn't familiar with your oh-so-changed self) or if it's because you just look so damn good on his lips but you see his tongue dart out to lick off the crimson and suddenly you figure no because that's yours (you?) and you want (demand) it back. Now.

His undisguised snicker is muffled and lost in your mouth, your tongue, your taste (which you've so rightfully claimed back) and when you bite down - none too gently - on that crooked lower pout of his (serves him right), you figure that somewhere along the line you've crossed the border between selfishness and downright greed.

But hey - you deduce as his teeth once again play on your supposedly fair skin, tongue soothing recent bruises and bites - it's not like you're with mister altruistic, himself.

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