Summery: Sephiroth encounters Aerith on her church, but rather than leaving a threat he leaves an impression.
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A/N;
Welcome my fellow Rebirth seekers to the first ever aeriseph fic of the game!! Ugh talk about an honor to bring forth this trash everyone desires upon. You know who you are Unfortunately this is NOT plot heavy. YET. However-I have many other plans/ideas in store for Rebirth that are ideally BOTH smutty and plotty. So something to look forward to. Also a quick note TST (The Sweet Taste) WILL NOT be abandoned now or in the future, it is simply on hiatus but i do still write onto it from time to time so please don't get discouraged my TST fans.
This, having possibly no symbolic alternatives to the Rebirth plotline, takes place after the church scene in chapter 14 so you know, SPOILERS!!
Hope you all enjoy, I truly tried to write something plotty and romance-y, but alas my brain chose an alternate route in spite of my need to satisfy the lacking I felt over my aeriseph expectations in Rebirth. So...yeah smut ensued.
Happy reading!!
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Aerith's smile faulters to the ominous heaviness of the church doors and she turns to the newcomer. She's not in the least surprised to see it was Sephiroth that welcomes her, shrouded in the white haze of the world's destruction behind him. Cockily there's a cold vigor of a grin on his lips as the door shuts behind him, caging her in with a monster of great strength. However, Aerith knows better, they've been through this so many times already, and the results were always the same; she would forever hold the power to escape him. At this point in their little game, she's the mouse that favors the thrill of his cat's chase, and today wouldn't be any different. Nothing about this man scared her.
Sephiroth closes the distance between them with a raging vortex of victory's cry, his heavy footsteps echoing the hollow walls of her crumbling church's structure. His face displays the joy of catching his prey in the very webs of his plans.
Unbehst to him, however, he couldn't have been any more wrong.
Upon reaching her rooted self, the attention of his green mako gaze shifts behind her to the remnants of flickering light so warm and pure. His sinister lips frown thinly.
Standing whatever ground she had left before the inevitable happened, she met his face bravely. "You're too late, Sephiroth." Aerith says in a skip of pride, yet his face shows no signs of defeat and it begins to unsettle her. Sephiroth merely hums knowingly deep in his throat, his eyes thinning in a way indicating mocking denial. She makes the horrible decision of remaining calm and comfortable around him that she isn't prepared for the abrupt move on his part. It takes him no more than a second to invade what little space was left between them and grab her forearm. He yanks her forward and her breath escapes past parted lips with shock. It's bold to say the least, he hadn't ever been so brash in their many other confrontations. It's an understatement to acknowledge how caught off guard she was by it.
"Silly little Cetra, you really think that puppet can save you?" He boasts so effortlessly, like he knew more than she could ever begin too, but that's not possible, Aerith has always been ahead in their little game. With an unforgiving flush of embarrassing defeat of protection, Aerith's eyes widened over the foreign closeness of his mocking voice.
She swallows despite herself, an act to remain strong, albeit upfront. Her chestnut brows furrow, and she meets his face. "I do. My faith has always been with Cloud, he will succeed where he had failed many times before. Your influence can be manipulated, degradation will not take him so long as I remain at his side."
Sephiroth laughs, and Aerith is dumbstruck. How can he be so callous of the downfall of his schemes? She's beaten him at every turn, yet he still remains belligerent to the truth. What is his gain? Did he find a way to tether her plans to his will without truly giving herself away on just what those are? Aerith suddenly finds herself fearful of such an accusation. "I don't believe you! Let me go!" she exclaimed with a fear unleashed, attempting to pull her arm from his tightly leather grasp, but she finds he only encased her further.
With a harsh tug he turns her around, her back pressed to his chest. Sephiroth releases her long enough to find purchase upon her throat instead. The strength behind it is threatening and immobilizing. She swallows shakily beneath it, watching in horror as he grabs her hand with his left and brings it up before them, pin-pointing with her finger to the glow of sereinity's earthy power of hope. Their green eyes, so different from one another, intently study the gentle pale shine he indicates.
"You think you've won is that it? Now that you've saved that insufferable fool from the fate becoming of you all? You think that now upon his return the cogs of time's clock will tick again, don't you? Oh, poor Aerith, it's almost laughable how wrong you truly are." Sephiroth murmured low and husky in her ear from behind her, his breath the very embers of darkness' embrace. She finds the tickling of her heart's heavy thumps pick up in the cavern of her chest. "Such a feeble fool you've become. Cloud has become my puppet, he cannot save you, with or without your materia. He may try, and he will fail. Not only the world, but you too. I, however, can release you of such humiliation."
It didn't take Aerith a translator to understand the grasp of his flaccid mercy. The words alone bring forth the sting of unbecoming tears to her eyes, throat tight with words lost on her. Still she manages to croak out a strained replay. "Are you asking me to give up?" She scoffs flatly. "You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? My surrender? After all these years chasing me-from world to world-soul to soul of our other selves this small feat would undoubtedly give you the most satisfaction. There's no point denying it, we both foresaw the fate of our conclusion and yet you remain constructed with only my defeat. If that's the case, why not just do it already? You clearly have no use for me, yet you hesitate? Why must I beg first to be given such mercy?"
Sephiroth's fingers suddenly slide between hers, involuntarily or purposefully, Aerith couldn't discern. She tries not to notice the perfect symmetry their hands evolve upon when bestowed this vision that's so tragically unwritten. "Your death would be greatly satisfying to all enemy parties, however even so, you're not wrong. Despite the calling of your obvious homecoming, I find myself...entranced by this festering strength you harness, the one that grows in positivity no matter how many times I've brought you to your knees. I've altered timelines and killed for you, Aerith, and yet you defy me reprieve still... Perhaps it's my stupidity to see if you're up to the challenge of matching me in battle, if this godly aura you try to invoke is but a farce to the skill you truly possess. Or maybe...something else entirely-something forbidden? You too feel it, don't you?" His voice drops octaves deeper and she swears she feels his lips caress her ear in a mock kiss. In order to rid such a disgusting thought she shakes her head, forcefully ignoring the emptiness of her struggling breaths.
Sephiroth grins against her skin, "In time, you'll realize it...my oblivious little Cetra. Regardless of which you come to believe in the end matters not, whatever halts me beckons reluctance stronger than even I can fight. You're more than welcome to take it as you will, but I will continue to consider it the simplicity of need to aid my puppet in remaining as emotionally stable as possible. Only you seem to affect him so, and for that reason alone, I don't deem to sever that connection just yet."
Aerith finds herself at a loss of words, clenching her jaw. Was that truly all? From the suddenness of the situation, she thought naught. Sephiroth's declaration spoke forth so much more to her than he could've let on. And in all honesty it confused her. It mattered not what his reasons for keeping her alive were. All Aerith could deem to conjure in the present time was, since when did their chase warrant the proximity they were currently in? Could she dare think the reason was out of jealousy? She had just been with Cloud after all. Could she allow herself to think he no longer saw her as prey, but rather a possession? Did she even wish to compile his forbidden after thought?
Her emerald gaze shifts reluctantly to the linking of their hands and she concluded that this reason enough was the fruit of his suggestion. She hated him, she realized that years ago, he'd done so much harm and unforgivable acts to the people she loves, yet at the day she'd come to ask herself: how could something so terribly bad influence something so beautiful? Why did she wish to consider his proposal? Was it the weakness of her surrender? A sacrifice for the people back home who deserved to live free of Sephiroth's lacking empathetic gain?
Aerith turns her head slightly, listening selfishly to the low silent breathing of Sephiroth behind her. She knew he wasn't real, this person was but the figment of a shadow possessed, and yet she thinks its too coincidental for her to think otherwise. If she really tried, she could feel the weight of his hard body, smell the intoxicating scents of leather and pine emit off him. Her eyes dip, lips parting for the sweet sorrow of her neglected action of fight. Just this once she unforgivably allows herself to bask in this moment.
Why has she suddenly become so vulnerable in his presence? Why now? Was it the solitude of their location the reason she felt so open to dive into uncharted waters of danger? To allow herself a slip of control and let loose to a part of herself left closed under lock and key?
When did this unbecoming instance of herself bear fruit? Could it have been possible that over the years their innocent little game bloomed something else? Even now as she remained shrouded in the fear of unknown varieties, she found herself acceptable of the dilemma of her capture. Perhaps deep down the reason she no longer feared Sephiroth was because she grew used to his immoral company. The stalking and entrapment of her every move wasn't a means for displeasure anymore, rather expected. Dare she even cross the line and admit that perhaps she began to enjoy it unconsciously?
Aerith bites her lip, and she thinks she hears Sephiroth's breath hitch low in his throat, but she concludes that her hearing only hopes it had. Just as full lips part so sinfully for something, she returns her gaze to the glimmers of fate's radiance, her flowers bathed in its heavenly glow. Everything about this is wrong, her wandering thoughts, his presence so close behind her, radiating comfortable heat his soul shouldn't initiate given the cruelty of his actions. Lips so close and itching to dress her own is a coat of darkness blight.
Its unfathomable to think such haphazard daydreams. Granted it wasn't inhuman, she was simply a woman after all. She knew what attracted, and Sephiroth wasn't excluded. He too is human, albeit to the extent of appearance, everything else, however, was an otherworldly monstrosity. Begs the unamonious question why she hadn't tried to escape? Why is she allowing him the privilege to touch her so? To breathe the same sinful sweet musk the thickening air had become between them? She knows more than any that she shouldn't be here like this with him. She should be with Cloud back in the comforts of their world. She should've joined him soon thereafter welcomed to the warmth of her friends' arms. And yet...she wasn't. She was here pondering thoughts unkind.
"I think it's more than that, Sephiroth." she whispered if only to herself. "Something you don't label correctly because not even you understand."
Sephiroth chuckles softly, his chest vibrating lowly with the sound. He leans even further into her, long silver hair falling over her shoulder, down the valley of her breast. She tries to ignore the peaking of her nipples upon the devil's caress of it to no avail. With a jerk of his hand, he tightens his grip around her throat, drawing her head back, the mako of his eyes greatly heavy and dark as he forces her to meet them. "You give yourself far too much credit... You've misunderstood, you will always be nothing, something holds selfish account within me that you possess power, but I remain unmoved to believe it until proven. I desire power-strength in the matters of your folly insinuation. One such that could rival even my own and you do not match that criteria, so don't go thinking I'd ever give you the time of the day otherwise."
Against her better judgement, Aerith's face falls at the pitifulness of those words and her lips curl with the great strain to itch the comeback caught in the constricted muscles of her throat. "Is that so? Then do us a favor and prove it...leave and never return. You need nothing more from me, I'm insignificant and worthless to you, its as you just said and yet you refuse to aid in my demise on my terms? Consider me concealed with misunderstanding. After all my fight, despite having control over your influence upon Cloud, will forever remain fruitless would it not? I am a soul lost and defeated, no matter the outcomes I provide, I'm still to perish under your guiding hand. Just what more is to be evaluated? You win, I lose. Isn't that what you've been boasting about?"
"And give you the satisfaction of allowing you the safety of defying your fate? To slither under the radar and bear your influence deeper into my schemes without my knowledge? Afraid not, Aerith. It's about high time you accept your leash will never break until I rid this planet the disgust of you pathetic humans. I will transcend even your limited birthright and bring a destiny worthy of mother's greatest vision. I dare say, even in death you'll never be free of my wrath of vengeance. So, no I decline your flimsy proposal."
With that said, Sephiroth roughly releases her from his person and turns away. Aerith immediately exhales breathlessly, eyes closing overly thankful for the breach of the oncoming suffocation of space.
"Try as you might, Aerith, carry on, give up, I could care less, but If you knew what was good for you, you'll do what you do best: pray. Those feeble words are all you'll ever be remembered for once I'm finished with you." Sephiroth threatened, the cold venom of his voice the very stab to her resolve and she shifts her head towards him only to be greeted to the feathers of his departure. They fall carelessly around her, mocking and condescending to the plight of her newly discouraged heart.
...
Sephiroth doesn't visit Aerith in the lives of her equals anymore, it's been weeks and she found that unsettling to say the least. She finds his linger non-existent, his following a foreshadow of an untimely scheme. Perhaps she shouldn't consider it bad news. She should take this time into account and spend it shadow-free. To allow her reprise and acceptance in the comings of her written fate. She could continue to think this was his way of finally respecting her demands for peace, alas, she knew better than. Those festering though were just her ignorance peaking, he's arrogant enough to think such folly of her mental state given the circumstances but she isn't, nor was she stupid enough to provide him the satisfaction. However, as the days pass Aerith wonders if she was already breaking such internal vows.
She refuses to admit it to anyone let alone herself that in her moments of betrayal, her mind would unconsciously slip to him and their last encounter. Something about it gets her a flustered mess of hormones as she recalls far too vividly the closeness of their bodies. She could ask herself when she grew to enjoy his touch, but that'll be pointless because she didn't hold the answers to warrant her curiosity. Rather what she should ask is why she began thinking of it at all in the solitude of her vulnerable mind?
This instance being but one of those times.
Evidently, Aerith blames it on just being lonely, deprived of the compassion of a man's strong touch. She could pursue the obvious choice of her desire, but that wouldn't be fair to herself or the mentioned supporting party. So she does what any woman in their own state of control would; release the tension herself. She had the perfect opportunity, her death wouldn't be marked for the next couple days so she figured she best relive these last strips of pleasure achievable before she's devoid of it permanently.
So Aerith finds herself doing just that, dressed down to her dress and hair hung loose from its once tightly braided state across the pillows as she aims to satisfy the flame of desire that overwhelms her to the very core of her being. She closes her eyes, thoughts fueled by the very structure of her licking flames of deceit. The man in play would revel in the mourning of her unspoken pleasurable fury if he ever found out. With a timid and forward hand, Aerith travels her touch down her body enamored with want, tracing the curves of her petite breasts, enforcing the image of silver bathing her in the flutters of distressed caress.
It's sick, she realized thinking of him of all people, the domain of pure disdain of a man. Not even that; a disdain of a monster. Call Aerith cheap for seeking the mindset of his image, the weakness of her attraction to the opposite sex of her passionless desire. Sephiroth unfortunately matches the vision of handsome in her sights. At least this discovery will follow her to her grave, the scorn mild only in her own residing soul.
Aerith travels further past peaking nipples beneath the thin material of her attire, lifting her knees and spreading the valley of her legs to the musk of her fernal pleas of need, the dress rising up with the movement revealing creamy unblemished skin. Her breathing picks up as she skims her fingers down the inside of her thigh, chasing the image forth of leather opposed to her skin. Her teeth nibble at the bottom of her lip when she finds purchase upon the soaked core of her cotton barrier.
It's been so long since she's had the touch of her own fingers, but the skill remains ever vivid. With a slip of her finger she presses a digit to the bud of her arousal, her head leaning back into the pillows as she applies pressure to achieve heightened peak. Her moan is foreign, forgotten as the length between these episodes is vast. She strokes herself with blatant ease, spreading her bent knees farther apart, back arching. Behind the glaze of her closed eyes she pictures one daunting hero, the very vision of an angel fallen from grace. However when that isn't enough mental addition, Aerith slides her protective panties to the side, gliding her fingers through the depths of her unfaithful essence, coating the exploratory digits entirely. She cries out beautifully when the slickness of her desires guide her inside her aching walls. She furrows her brows with pleasure, using her other hand to knead her neglected breasts. "Ahh," she hums with gratitude, pumping herself slowly in time with her palming.
She slips out, circling her clit with the soaked digits, purring along with the obscene wetness of her own making echo in the quiet room. Her body quivers in praise to her touch, but even in her delirium state of consciousness, this treatment would never amount to what she truly wanted. "Sephiroth..." his name rolls off her tongue like it was born to. She pants in tune with the rhythm she'd set for herself, circling and thrusting, envisioning a touch unkind to her own, one that threatens her past the boundaries she can only dream of. She wants to feel him break her mentally in ecstasy, to wipe her very existence until nothing but them remain, she craves the touch of the fallen gods of his power. She curses when she thrusts into herself rather deeply, matching a strength unknown but overwhelmingly complimentary.
Her back bows off the bed, head thrown back, her hair kissing her cheeks and if she tries hard enough she could imagine the caress to be his lips, his fingers as they pound her to delicious oblivion. He'd be the type of freak that'll fuck her with his gloves on, to taste the leather after she comes with a strength unexplored. She nearly screams in wanton disgust. Since when has she been this kinky? Or rather, when had she become someone who craves the touch of predatory euphoria? She always wished for a lover that was gentle and sweet, one that'll shower her with slow lovemaking and aftercare. Sephiroth would give her neither of these, and yet she finds she anticipates that scenario more than being someone's vanilla.
It's their chase, he's been unconsciously rubbing off on her and she's evolved into a woman who favors the thrill of danger. This entire journey since leaving Midgar only added to the simmering fuel of it. She may have accounts of her future, but the danger of the world was new and exciting. And Sephiroth...only enforced the realization with his unlawful closeness.
Aerith's hand picks up at the thought of him, purposefully seeking that release to the winding coil of her orgasmic barrier. Her green eyes slip open with a comfortable heaviness and she turns her head, imagining with all her might that he was here with her to watch what the taint of his actions had done to her. That he curtain her with those fallen impossibly beautiful onyx feathers he always leaves behind to mark his presence.
She fantasizes him leaning smugly against the wall, tall and beautiful, his green mako-kissed eyes blown with arousal to match her own. She bites her lip in a silent gasp when it becomes too much and he's forced to release the tightness of his budging trousers. He'd be an asshole and stroke himself outside the material first, his face full of cruel intention of torture, yet still ever breathtaking. His lips would part sinfully as the strain grew too intense, his cock begging for more than just his selfish treatment.
Aerith whines dirty as the thought takes hold, unable to be stopped now that she'd allowed it passage into her disturbing mind. Sephiroth's breath picks up as he continues to watch her undo herself, his eyes raking down the length of her welcoming body, further on to the jerks of her hand between her legs, the bangles on her wrist creating a symphony in their rings of action. "You should see yourself." He points out darkly, breathlessly. "A woman unhinged with the shadow of my influence." Even in her head his voice his condescendingly sexy. "Shall I reward you despair for your impurity?"
"Fuck," she mewled, stroking her swollen clit more feverishly to unbidden the ache of negligence, but its not enough! She slows in reluctance, turning her attention to Sephiroth who proceeds to undo the buckles of his attire. The belt slips apart from his waist, the heaviness of his coat drawing the curtains back to the expanse of his torso. She moans, her eyes practically starving to eat up the very treat of lustful desert before her. He smirks arrogantly, moving down to the bindings of his greatest discomfort. She can trace the very definition of his package that begs attention and release. She licks her lips, mouth watering with impatient need.
Sephiroth groans lowly when he frees his cock from the confinement, pushing the material down enough to expose both parts of his manly counterpart. She almost wants to cry at the sight of him, he was unfairly beautiful, silver hair wondrously blanketing his pelvis in a unholy trinity of protection and perfectionism, indefinitely endowed to please and make any woman writhe to pieces beneath him. Aerith being such woman that craved that delirious ineptitude. He grips himself in a way that would make even angels cry in bliss, giving a couple languid tugs as he glides the foreskin back, spreading the exquisite pre-cum from tip down the junction of his impressive length until fingers shrouded with leather prevented further descent.
"Oh God!' she exclaimed at the teasing of that man, drowning in a mess that was her unquenchable favor.
"No God will not give you what I can, Aerith." He moans, and she fucking believed him, her pussy aching in dreadful anticipation.
"Please, oh please, I need more. I can't..."
Sephiroth hums, grown slightly disheveled the more he enhanced the pleasure of his hand's tempo. "Not yet...I like hearing you beg..."
She could play that game. She removes her hand from her panties, sighing sharply at the loss, but it's acceptable given Sephiroth cock jerks triggered by her sounds. She quickly lifts her hips and hooks her fingers beneath the waistband before pushing them down her legs. She cares only enough to untangle one leg, readjusting herself once more, her dress bunching up around her hips, exposing her sex completely to his hungry gaze. Aerith's jaw falls slack when she immediately thrusts her finger past her entrance, moaning noisily as her inner walls welcome her back with a pulsing embrace. "I-I bet I can break you before then." She declared shakily with rapture, adding a second finger to join the other. "You can try to withstand, but you won't be able to deny my cries of pleasure, Sephiroth."
As expected, Aerith perceived the heaviness in his eyes, the grip on his cock as he tried to replicate the hug of her inner sanctum. But he'll never be able to, because unknown to him her pussy remains pure of the penetrating thrusts of a man. With death knocking on her doorstep there's no time to wait for a man who loves her. Tonight she doesn't want a happy ending, she wants the very brink of despair and hate, to be fucked blind of the devastation of life around her. If only in a daydream, she hopes to escape the reality of her destiny and let loose, to be free to embrace this hidden valley of her soul that forever would remain unseen by her peers and herself.
Aerith relinquishes the familiar rhythm of her fingers, displaying herself fully to Sephiroth's keen predatory eye like a priceless artifact, and perhaps she was-the last of her kind in accounts to blood at least. She's willingly giving herself something to boast about, to taunt and flair his ego worse than he does already. However, she'll come to admit his ego is justified, albeit enhanced with help from a malignant source. Aerith grinds her hips against her hand, lifting her ass to drive deep the smallness of her fingers, but its useless she can't reach what his could with ease. She merely foregoes that and focuses on her clit instead. It wasn't nearly the same pleasure, but it was enough to get her screaming in the denial of her climax. She knows he'll give in, and she wants to withhold until then-to be rewarded the orgasm worth dying for.
Her heavily-lidded eyes seek his, her senses hot and readily explosive, the quiver of her legs, the curling of her toes the very definition of her peaking end, yet Sephiroth remains ever unchallenged, his own desperate act of release in tune with hers. just as the flood of white enters her vision, she halts her risque dance, whining aloud at her own willing denial. Sephiroth follows, his groan melting the core of her awaiting blossoming flower. Never will she deny the deliciousness of his euphoric sounds of passion, they will remain and haunt her for eternity.
In an act of checkmate, Aerith brings that hand from between her legs up her body to her lips. They part and she willingly slides them past, moaning honesty upon the musky sweet taste of herself. She grins internally to the bliss of Sephiroth's crumpling composure, his pants of restraint uneven and begging for what only she could provide.
Her jaw loosen as she releases the mingled digits of her silky wetness, trailing them down her outstretched neck. She cups the petite mounds of her breast in a mock tease to herself, unashamed by their lack of fullness. Unhooking the buttons of her dress as slowly as she could manage, she pulls apart the material coverage containing them, her nipples peaked and hungry from the teeth that were tightly clenched across the room.
Only when she continues her journey south, does Sephiroth finally move. She grins mischievous at the success of her winning game when the bed dips to the weight of her partner. "About time, I thought I'd have to come before I got you over here."
He ignores her, lifting her from the small of her back effortlessly into his lap. She shrieked unattractively surprised, green eyes widening and she immediately encircles her arms around his shoulders for support. Internally she fails at retaining her composure, her lungs suffering in the capture of air as his masculine scents overwhelm more than her nose. She means to lean in closer to the free invitation that was his neck, but he pulls her back by the tangle of his hand in her chestnut hair. She whimpers in unexpected ecstasy, catching the abused swell of her lip. He glares at her with unabashed greed, the green mako of his eyes clouded with the intentions of pure unrestrained lust. It's a look of sin, a beg to be ravished and taken and Aerith wanted nothing more than to do just that.
"I've underestimated you, Aerith, you're an undisclosed minx." He reaches between them, guiding his cock to the sodden entrance that begs his stroke of penetration. "I'd bother to ask if you were ready to accept your untimely fate, but I can see there's no need." He gives Aerith no warning other than that and thrusts fully into her, bottoming out in one fluid jerk of his hips. Her pussy screams in tandem with her voice, the discomfort far worse than she might've told. Sephiroth circled her back with his other arm. Aerith, despite the somewhat affectionate gesture, struggled to withhold her tears that were threatening to spill.
Gripping her a bit tighter to his chest, Sephiroth glides his hips back, relishing in the tightness with a broken curse before slamming back in just as carelessly as the first. She whined tearfully opposed to his pleasure, her body tense and unwelcoming of the pace he was setting. "Fuck, you're tight... Relax, Aerith."
She's trying, truly, her body just simply cannot accommodate his unforgiving lack of detection over her traumatic state. Let alone the size comparison to her petite frame. She burned mildly upon the stretch of their union. "If...If you show some care I might be able to."
"Oh? What's this? Can the Cetra not handle what she dished out? It was you that asked upon me, what made you think I would be gentle?" He purposely powered his words with a brutal ground of his hips into hers and she clenched her teeth, brows furrowed.
"Oh god.. please it hu-" he cuts her off with another rough jerk forward and she cried out in pain. "I'm a virgin, asshole, please..." She blurted out, her pleas so tragically pathetic even in her own ears, cheeks stained with the warmth of her fallen tears. Sephiroth meets her face almost dumbstruck, but his movements cease regardless. He stares at her openly, possibly seeking the deceit of her statement, but she declares he'll find none. His current motive reveals nothing as to what was on his mind, if he genuinely didn't know or didn't care.
In all honesty, she'd ask to be pinched awake from what Sephiroth does next, if it weren't for the pain she presently felt in her core already. Leading a gesture unbecoming of his demeaning nature, Sephiroth releases her hair, pushing the wavy strands to the side as he moves to cup the nape of her neck instead, burying his face against the thumping of her erratic heartbeat. Her emerald eyes widened for only a second before comfortably fluttering closed, utterly gratified to the press of his soft lips. He kisses her with such care, holding her like she truly deserves his unconditional attention of pleasure. However, even she knew no dream could ever be so unselfishly wonderful.
"Sorry... I...hadn't realized." He confessed hotly across her skin, and she hums in disagreement, shaking her head, she won't let this fever dream get sappy. There was no way Sephiroth would show such care in the real world so she best not disgrace him in her own. "This is...fine..." She exhaled breathless, her body melting with the throes of his experienced touch, craning her neck further for his exploratory tongue.
Soon she begins to relax, her pussy no longer throbbing in the after effects of pain, but rather pleasure. Aerith sighs in the sweet release of it, growing bold to the screams of her blind desires. With a forward hand she threads her humble fingers through Sephiroth's hair, following along with his movements as he trailed open-mouth kisses down the valley of her breast. His gloved fingers curl into the arching of her spine, and he takes a forgotten nipple in the warmth of his mouth, teasing the bud with the gentle swirls of his tongue's stroke.
"Ahh..." She compliments, his cock that remains snug within her jerks with pride at the noises of her very encouragement. She willingly rewards him for his beautiful attempts of relaxation, boldly taking control of their connection and rocking her silky folds against him. They both follow with a series of risque moans, Sephiroth's body grown taut to the expanse of pleasure unrecognizable. She guides him away from her chest, cupping the sharpness of his jaw, nuzzling his cheek. "I don't know why, but thank you..." She expressed lowly, keeping in time with his responding body, his strong hands dug into her hips, bunching up her dress as he restrains himself from ravishing her. But at this point, that's all she wants to experience. "Please," she begs him, "I need more... I want it..."
He panted sultry across her flushed skin, "Tell me...Aerith, what do you want?" He finds her face easily, both drugged up on the euphoria of each other's touch. He holds the nape of her neck in his warm palm, gazing into her emerald eyes for answers unspoken.
She rolls her hips once more, enjoying more than she should, the fullness of his cock within her. Aerith's lips part for the uncharacteristic words of her inner demons. "You... I want you, Sephiroth. Fuck me, break me, kill me, I selfishly want it all..."
Sephiroth groans deeply, his vulnerabilities slipping. He too falls out of the character of his image and leans in to press his lips to hers. The crease of her chestnut brows is deep and she whimpered in tow to his silent gasps of wanton. He sought her permission with the swipe of his tongue and she gladly welcomes him in. Their bodies meld with compatibility of one another, Sephiroth regaining control of the pace of his hips, thrusting up into her silken walls, they no longer showing resistance-eagerly accommodating his sweet stroke of passion.
Aerith moans into him, the warmth of his hard body against her soft the very escape she never could've realized she needed. Ever slowly, Sephiroth gradually builds up his graceful poise, diminishing the languid pace for one of chosen favor. Aerith welcomes the change, her inner walls seeking the hard comforts of his cock's lewd tango. She listens ever eagerly to the slapping of his balls against her ass, the sound the very illustration of heaven's symphony. In an act she'd dare live without, Aerith's lips slip from Sephiroth's first, the stolen breaths needed to return before her head gets any more clouded with thoughts unwelcome. Their labored pants mingle as effortlessly as their tongues had, the electrifying taste of him still buzzing in her veins like the very stream of the lifestream itself.
Aerith could detect her oncoming descent to madness, her orgasm the very limit of her control for when she does her dream will fade to the depths this sexual fever dream arose from. She almost didn't want it to end, her mind conjured up the Sephiroth of her greatest desire, she doesn't think she was ready to give him up yet to be replaced with his far evilier counterpart.
As if sensing her troubling muses, Sephiroth nibbles at her jaw, throwing her out of the awful state of events unwarranted. "Stop... It won't matter..." He forced out through the thickening of his hazy mind. He sought her lips once more, and she couldn't bring understanding to the meaning of those words behind the guise of his distraction. Aerith moans into the cavern of his skilled mouth, his tongue the very peak of perfection in driving her past the boundaries of her pleasurable downfall. Her hand tightens upon the nape of his neck, thumb stroking the soft crevice of skin behind his ear, holding him pressed against her mouth until they either pass out or finish this unforgivable dance of rapture
She's the first to break free again, drowning in the overwhelming heat of her orgasm as it nears its boiling point. She digs crescents into his skin, rocking her hips in tandem with his, her clit gliding perfectly against the mingle of their conjoined bodies. Seemingly understanding her body language, Sephiroth reaches for her knee, lifting it up over his shoulder. She leans back, holding onto him for support. He watches her like a man possessed, and she throws her head back upon the respectable force of his wonderful hips he gives her in return. In this position he hits all the right spots that have her a sopping puddle in his arms.
Aerith comes with a strangled cry of dislocation of her wits end, erupting in screams unfamiliar. Sephiroth chokes out a similar noise of contempt, eyes screwed shut to withstand the taunting struggle of her beckoning trembles. She isn't given the chance of recovery, however, for he leans her onto her back, towering over her like a blessing from God, bathing her in his black and silver aura. He grits his teeth, nostrils flaring with the strength of resistance. The length of his impossibly long lashes kiss his defined cheekbones before they open to reveal the distress of something rarely breathtaking. "This is wrong..." He admits weakly, staring her down as though she was the fault.
She isn't given anymore insight to his inner turmoil as he keeps the distinction of his focus on reaching his own blossoming peak. He leans down further, shifting onto his elbows, and without warning he kisses her roughly, going so far as to bite her lip. She groaned in retaliation, sliding her hands beneath the suffocating warmth of his loosened coat, nails dug into hard muscle. She lifts her hips for the deepened heart of his thrusts, one of his hands trailing down to palm the plump softness of her ass.
Sephiroth lasts not nearly a minute with the help of her pulsing encouragement, his mouth immediately breaking free from her own. Jaw hung slack, his strong unbreakable body trembles with the cry of his release, hips bottomed out within her, as the ropes of his essence encase her walls in the pale shade of his reminder. Exhausted and unable to breathe correctly, Sephiroth rests his sweaty forehead against hers-the contrast of chestnut and silver gorgeously otherworldly.
"I hate you," he panted, his voice deeply broken with passionate ecstasy.
She laughs just as dislocated, her green eyes defining the nature of her chosen words that follow behind. "Good, I hate you too."
...
Aerith wakes sometime later, she couldn't discern when she'd fallen asleep let alone for how long. She briefly remembers her pleasure-triggered fever dream, but slowly as any dream, the stripes of her oncoming consciousness removes the vividness of what truly transpired. Disregarding that distastefulness of her fragility, Aerith pulls herself out of bed, the soreness of her body but one of the transgressions of her betraying state. As she prepares to rinse her sins away with a needed shower, she's oblivious of her surroundings of the desolate room. The air catches as she walks past the bed and unbeknownst to her, a lone feather, onyx in dimension follows behind from the pillow of her once slumber, indicating the tears of unexplored alternatives.
...
A/N:
I feel like I should apologize for writing this, so leaving my condolences here.
I honestly have no excuses for writing this trash besides the fragments of my mind and the unquenchable need to express my aeriseph love somewhere. It's honestly a roulette of ideas that'll form, whether it smut or romance. Smut won this roun if you hadn't guessed.
Truth be told I was going to add more onto this in the end, perhaps her finding out the truth and realizing it wasn't simply a pleasure-induced hallucination but I felt it should end somewhat ambiguous. I mean, I can't please everyone, including myself. So after many rewrites I chose this for my conclusion. Hopefully its still enjoyed amongst my readers.
Hope you all enjoyed, please if you have anything to share don't hesitate, I'm prepared for all the hate and love I'm sure this will receive. As always love you all, you are the sunshine that lights up my inspirational train to continue writing and improve.