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softgh0stbites · 3 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🔥‧₊˚ ⋅A Symphony of Embers [part 1]

Rating: Slight NSFW 🔞

Tags: sloppy and heavy makeout, undressing, semi-public sex, mentions of assaults (very light), mentions of death, scars, mentions of mutilation.

Pairing: Reader x Vincent Valentine

Synopsis: After Yuffie has stolen your materia and passed off the group, you've gone through he'll chasing her around wutai. Everything seems to work out until it doesnt- Don corneo and his goons wind up kidnapping Yuffie and Reader. Vincent is the first to find and rescue them, but is frantic in hiding Reader away to selfishly check her himself and make sure she's as she was before she was stolen away without him by her side.

Notes: This took me forever, and I'm afraid it is very little proofread or edited, so it might just be word vomit. I was also in a rough place while writing, so Vincent might be very OOC here. I wanted to split it into two parts because I do want to make their coupling pretty deep and poetic for the most part as I feel Vincent really deserves that in this mini series. I'm sorry for the large gap in my posting but here's a small treat ♡ ALSO thank you all so much for the continous love on this series and my rambles in general ♡ I had so many notifications and it made my brain buzz seeing so many of you clicking through all the mini writings ♡♡♡♡♡

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The cave is quiet except for the dripping of water somewhere in the back. Every third drop breaks you from your spiraling thoughts, your body all too aware of his hands on your waist. You can hear his breath, shaken—not as if he is exhausted, just ragged.

There is no need for words as you cling to each other. You had thought you were going to die; Vincent had obviously thought the same. The sight of you tied up in such a vulnerable position, hanging off of the cliff face. He could still remember the fury that wracked his body, then the ice cold resolve to kill after.

His body backs you up into the wall, your back digging into the stone a bit further. His hands slip over your chest, your pulse catching as he flexes his fingers over the spot above your heart. His tepid fingers are gliding over the top of your breast. He is waiting, listening—it makes you feel all the more vulnerable.

"Vincent—" You whined.

"Let me listen." He demanded, voice ragged.

His sound is dry, the delivery stern, but there is a tremble ever so slight. In the dim light from the crack above, you can barely make out his rigid expression. He is entirely focused on your heartbeat. His breathing begins to slow even as your heart continues to pulse rapidly.

Here is your one and only beloved, holding it together as he listens to your inner clockwork. His eyes roam over your face, capturing your reddened eyes, the paths of tears long dry upon your cheeks. The glowing embers of his own are burning into your memory, as if you could ever forget. You don't realize you are shivering until his other hand rubs your arm soothingly, warming the skin under it.

Your teeth chatter this time, the adrenaline of the moment giving way to the chill of the night. Your body seeks the heat radiating off od your partner.

"If you don't pull me closer, I'll never forgive you." You smile weakly, trying not to let your desperation show. You just need him as much as he needs you, you need his breaths, his voice, his lips, his taste. You want to be unburdened by your night of misery.

He seems to agree, wrapping you up instantly, a long shudder running through him. His arms go under yours, picking you up so your legs are dependent on his waist. He crushes you together, his cowl and hair covering parts of your vision in a scarlet hue. One hand is cupping the back of your head as it rests against the stony wall. Always protecting you even in the smallest ways.

"I was so scared," you admit, your hands tangling in the fabric as he buries his face deeper into your hair. "But I knew you would find me, I knew you'd come." Your hands move to unbundle his cloak, not caring if he will refute. You need to feel his skin against yours—some part of it, even if it is the tip of his nose.

He lets it fall to the ground without making a fuss. His mouth immediately kisses your pulse, lingering there as if to feel the beating with his lips. There's a pause in his kiss, tongue lavishing over the point before he stills.

"I was so angry, I almost lost it." His arms tighten around you. "I wanted to torture him, for putting his hands on you—" A growl leaves him; you can feel his teeth being bared. Your hands go to his hair, rubbing, soothing, doing anything to douse the anger.

You tug to pull him away from your throat, looking into that malice-filled gaze. It softens for you as you cup his face, trailing his features with your thumbs. He takes in a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

"I couldn't bear it if you had been hurt, it would simply seek to destroy whatever is left of me." The light in his eyes flicker, as if imagining such an ending.

He readjusts your form in his arms, ready to set you down.

"We should go back...it's cold-" Something in Vincent's face screams reluctantance and you latch onto it.

"Warm me up, here." you cut him off, "I missed you, even if for a night..." You face flushed in the darkened room.

His eyes burn into you, but his lips inch closer to yours without debate. Your eyes flutter shut as his breath ghosts across your face—you can still feel his gaze on your mouth. It makes you swallow, wondering what expression he could possibly have. You crack your eyes open to see, the glint of his bright eye trained meticulously on the trembling of your bottom lip.

Maybe it is wrong, maybe it is weird, but you drink each other in by gaze as your lips touch, not wanting to miss each other in the cloak of darkness already. It feels a different sort of intimate as he slowly devours you, his fingers orchestrating your chin, whispering against your mouth,

"Mouth...open... more."

Your gaze breaks from his eyes to see his own mouth part, his tongue peaking out and the sight a lone makes heat pool in your belly. The idea that you're deranged enough in this moment to stare at him while he ravages your lips, locks at the saliva inside of your mouth— it's a different kind of intimacy.

You do as you've been demanded, the strings of saliva on your lips from his prodding tongue begin to stretch as you open to accommodate. Your flushed face under his scrutiny as you leave your mouth agape for him to explore. His tongue, his scent, his taste—you are sinking deeper into it all. He is your intoxication, a new brand of liquor yet to be discovered. You finally close your eyes, unable to handle that intense stare of his.

You'd be lying if you didnt want him to tell you what to do more often. You'd do anything he requested, anything at all. You wanted the words, "On your knees for me," to leave his mouth just once. A quiet moan rose from your throat at the idea. He unmatched your tongues, breathing heavily as his hands skimmed over your sides, the back of your thighs as well.

"Did they touch you… anywhere?"

"They talked about it… in detail… but they didn't have time to do anything," you explain while he lets you breathe, your soft pants hitting his cheek. You can feel his body softening slightly, hands becoming more gentle and less desperate.

You should be trembling, you should be scared, you should be crying. But you can't. You had known the moment you were taken that he would come for you, and in some way, that makes all the other experiences melt away.

Vincent continues to hold your chin, inspecting your jaw and neck. There is a small lingering trail of bruises down your collarbone where you had been handled roughly. Your hands had been bound, so they often grabbed you by your shoulder or the back of your neck and shoved you where they pleased. You feel his eyes raking over it like hot coals, feel his lips as he pauses over them, hesitant to touch.

"No one who marks you like this should live," his growl returns, the shaking in his arms intensifying. "I should go back and make sure that descent down the canyon really finished that pathetic—" He cuts himself off with a sneer.

Your eyes widen as his trembling picks up again. "Vincent, I'm okay. Truly, I'm okay. Please." You reach for his face as he unwinds your legs from his waist. He's stronger than you—easily able to set you aside, but you cling to him regardless, your arms still locked around his neck as you stretch onto your toes to stay close.

"Please, I'm sure Cloud is checking right now," you argue, voice unsteady. If he leaves you alone here, you'll lose the comfort, the stability. His hands remain on your forearms, as if still considering prying you off. Your safety is his priority, and any lurking threats must be dealt with first. It’s always been like that and Vincent needs vengeance the way a plant needs the deep embrace of good earth.

His crimson eyes narrow in the dim light, a finger ghosting over your nose, tracing along the bridge. His other hand threads through your hair, the motion soothing not just for you, but for himself.

"I don't like when you say his name like that."

"Vincent—" The quiet jealousy in his voice startles a laugh from you, and you catch the slight dip of his lips into a frown.

"Well, you are the reason I'm breathless," you tease, stretching up to capture his lips, pulling his hand away from your face in the process. "Shouldn’t you take more responsibility instead of being jealous?"

A smirk finally tugs at Vincent’s lips. "Mmh, I have conditions."

"And?"

"Say your name for me," he whispers.

You giggle at first, eyes glimmering with amusement. Wasn’t that silly? Saying your own name in front of him? You can’t even remember the last time you called it out yourself. It’s not something you go around announcing.

But then, the smile on Vincent’s face shifts into something softer, something more thoughtful, and you swallow nervously. Was this some kind of test?

Tentatively, you murmur your name, a bit shy, the moment suddenly feeling less playful and more like something unspoken unfolding between you. His eyes darken, thumb gently parting your lips, trailing over your bottom teeth—not quite touching your tongue. Heat creeps up your jaw, slow and aching, as if your obedience itself is being acknowledged.

"Again."

This time, with his thumb in your mouth, pronouncing it is harder, but you manage. He exhales softly, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, rewarding you with a slow rub along the wet muscle in your mouth.

"Listen to you," he purrs, sharp teeth flashing as he presses another kiss to your nose, this time biting down lightly. It’s playful—unexpected from him. Your face is hot, chest rising and falling as warmth coils low in your stomach.

"I-It sounds funny," you murmur, flustered.

"Does it?" Vincent tilts his head, his hand slipping beneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your stomach before trailing higher. His knuckles brush teasingly along the underside of your breast, featherlight.

You tense, back arching slightly, aching for more.

"Say it," he coaxes, voice laced with amusement.

But you shake your head—you don’t want to play this game without getting something in return. He clicks his tongue, a soft sound of disapproval, before his hands suddenly tighten around your chest, squeezing firmly.

A gasp rips from your throat, your name tumbling out in the process.

Vincent captures your lips the moment it leaves.

"Your voice is my undoing, now do you see why simply saying a name in that tone....it's unfair." He was unbuttoning your jeans before you could catch up, his hand stuffing itself in the tight fabric. Fingers rubbing at your clit as you moaned his name.

"I need you, Vincent, please.... all of you." You begged, your own hands were exploring his narrow hips. You wanted to grab him without the barrier of clothes. Without the sting of belts on your inner legs as you rutted together. You were tugging at his belts as he groaned, not quite pushing you away.

"All of me..." He seemed to promise, "You may have...but it's not—"

"Vincent, I want everything, whatever is there under your clothes will not change how much I want you." Your frustrated sigh makes him stiffen a bit as your hand pauses on his last buckle.

"You're mine...." You murmur, your eyes locking as his flare.

"Yours." He almost whimpers, the sound alone sends sparks down your spine, "All yours."

You don't remember how you got fully undressed. You don't remember being able to pull off his clothes. It was like a whirlwind, hot and hazy. One moment you were astride him, grinding down on his briefs as he played with your chest— the next you were lying on his cloak, legs wide for him as you stared up at his panting face. His chest was riddled in scars, a large on bisecting his chest and traveling to his navel. He was configured in a way like he had been starving for a good long while. You always wondered what his stomach had looked like, it was normal but far too small for someone of his stature.

He was watching you watch him, you couldn't let anything show that would make him uncomfortable.

"The scars are..." His voice quivered, "I needed to warn you first.."

You chastised him with a broad stroke of your tongue over the large scar tissue just under his ribs. Your mouth lavished it, hands gliding over the other scars as you took your time kissing the large ones. They felt cold under your tongue, your mind could only imagine how much pain these must've caused.

"Should I have warned you about my bruises and freckles?" Your lips turn down at the corners, it was extremely bizarre and quite frightening. But you weren't repulsed in the slightest. This was the body of the man you loved, a body he fought to hold together lest he succumb to the beasts inside. He was doing his best, who were you to add layers onto his burden.

"Absolutely not," Vincent's teeth grit, "But this is different, he gestures with one hand, sitting back up on his knees and running that hand through his hair, pausing so it sheltered over his eyes. "You couldn't possibly understand what it is,"

"Hey," You reached out with your hand, fingers resting at his navel, the furthest you could reach without sitting up. Your heart ached then for this man, this gentle soul who had never asked for this. He had probably been so shocked to recieved this amount of pain, to be experimented on like he didn't have a say.

"Stop prying, please."

"Vincent," Your tone grew more worried at the sight of his shaking shoulders, you instantly shot up, hands on his shoulders now, "Hey, don't hide from me," You pleaded.

"I didn't mean to compare or to pry-" You struggled to apologize, your heart heavy, "I just meant that, of course I would accept you." You tongue grew heavy with words.

"I love you, Vincent," Your voice trembled as you tried to move his hand, he let you lower it slowly,

You continued, frantic to get your point across, "I love you so much, I care about your scars, your past, but it doesn't shake my foundations." Your eyes flickered between his, trying to read his stormy thoughts.

"Maybe I'm the only one of us who feels this strongly so fast," Your eyes flicker down to your naked lap, "I just think you're beautiful and I've always thought that. Since the day we met I-I've always looked at you, I'm sorry." The tears were building in your eyes too as you remembered all the hurdles you had to overcome to get close to him.

Now you've just gone and fucked it up maybe by saying something stupid. Of course he would get upset about you comparing his mutilation to something akin to sunburn. Your wounds have always been temporary, there's never been a scar that wasn't smaller than a pebble. You got bruises from falling down, running into things.

"Love?" He was back to pushing you down into his cloak, his hands on either side of your head as you lowered yourself back down, fingers gripping his shoulders for support along the way, "How could you love someone bereft of humanity- akin to a monster?" A snarl, his eyes held a bit of anger, but never towards you, never.

Your tears came out even harder at the sight, your hands sliding up his neck, cupping his face. The tension in his face eased as he watched your tears for his plight.

"Because my monster is ruthless, but gentle. He is sad," You traced the shape of his cheek bone with your thumb, "He is so contempt with himself that it hurts me." Your breaths shuddered.

"I love him," Your lips trembled but you continued, pressing further into him, legs wrapping around his hips as you pulled him into a clumsy embrace, "Even if it hurts, please bear it."

As your voice fades to murmurs, his chin nozzles into your shoulder, claiming your comforting embrace as you continue to stroke his hair with your fingers.

Your heart ached to be with him, your hunger for his body to join with you had ebbed but sparks of it were still there. You tested the waters by wriggling your hips. A grunt left him, his head dropping to your shoulder. He whispered apologies in your ear, eyes full of sorrow and something you couldn't quite place when he pulled back. You wordlessly slipped your fingers down to slide off your remaining garment, showing yourself bare, eyes looking over him again.

His hair was tousled, dirty, tangled, but beautiful against his pale skin. His right arm was fully uncovered, his claw like hands settling on your collarbone. You took time to calm down, your breaths returning to normal. He was staring so intensly at you that he didn't seem to mind you tugging at the waistband of his underwear. He wiggled out of it as well, finally slotting himself between your thighs.

"You're sure?"

"Are you?"

Vincent breathed out shakily, nerves alight as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet but chaste kiss. You had both decided long ago to follow each other into whatever dark abyss lingered around you. You were entangled in the coals of his agony, a simmering fire that refused to sleep; a bed of coals you would rake across for one touch of his breath against your cheek. You knew in that yearning sunlit eye that stared back at you, that he felt similar.

One hand traveled to caress your face, pulling your lips back together into something deeper, a kiss that felt more like breathing.

You would take from him, he would take from you this night.

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