#vincent valentine is so hot i have nothing appropriate to say

[softgh0stbites]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Where Desire Slumbers

Rating: Suggestive 18+ Pairing: Vincent x Reader Summary: Vincent has nightly thoughts about you, always the gentlemen to never act on them though. ⋆˙⟡Notes: I'm pretty new to tumblr in general and I'm usually only here to self indulge in fanfiction and the occasional art piece. I might drop ideas or ramblings that just come to my mind- currently that being of final fantasy vii characters as well as other video game characters that capture my hyperfixation. Enjoy~ · · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · · A man bleeding from the inside, quietly so it disturbs no one. But you see it—you’re the first to cup your hands around these invisible wounds. You’re there at every corner, a soft, benign malice beginning to grow for you. You’re annoying in every sense of the word. Your smile is too bright, your eyes still lit with a radiance untouched by the darkest nights. When he’s around you, he often thinks of himself even more—how it would feel to go all the way back to secret whispers in the night and naps in the sunlight. There’s a longing for that euphoric dream, where he replaces the unsightly with visions of you in his waking hours, when sleep is far from his thoughts.

He imagines pulling that smile from your lips with his fingers, brushing your bottom lip with just a caress of his thumb, while you fall apart above him.

You wear your innocence so thin, the dusting of rouge on your cheeks like the sunset when you’re caught staring. He remembers these stolen glances, observing you now more than ever. He wonders if you’d bite down on your own hands and fingers, silencing melodies he so desperately wants to hear. Would you act shyly, perched above him in your night chemise? Would you let him in so close, so easily, if he only murmured a soft, “Please”?

Oh.

How would you act if he were to beg? If he gave in to every carnal desire, would you fear the embers—or are you afraid of being burned? He pictures you so sweetly in the night. He shouldn’t; he can’t fathom being the one to taint you so badly. But a part of his guilt revels in it. It would cause him so much misery, so much self-doubt, but he would enjoy it. He wouldn’t falter. He wouldn’t let your lithe hips escape when it became too much. He would still you, murmuring endearing words like a sedative poison.

“So good. Don’t steal away from me yet.”

Of course, if you wanted none of this, his hands would remain forever untouched by you. But the days that blend around you wind him to believe that you think of him sometimes—perhaps in your makeshift bed during your travels, sweetly trailing your hands between the apex of your thighs, while the candescent glow of a candle is your only audience and the thin walls of an inn do little to hold back your hushed gasps and cries.

He would wait for you to approach him. Always. He couldn’t allow himself such a luxury—a taste of something so sweet. Instead, he would sink deeper into his thoughts, where he always had you, cherished you, devoured you. And in return, you marked him back with golden smiles and reassuring caresses through his long hair. He wanted love so bittersweet it stung and left him breathless.

He does his daily tasks of cleaning his section of the Highwind. It isn’t much, but it keeps his mind busy when mornings feel bleak. After landing to gather resources or take on small jobs, he finds a quiet place to brood. Normally, he wanders into ruins or shrouded places to feel the first rays of the sun fall across his pale lids. He could watch the kaleidoscope colors forever if time allowed. He’s warming up to the idea of naps in the sun, after all.

“Vincent?” A gentle, quivering voice calls out to him. He can almost hear her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt without even needing to look. She pushes through when he finally exhales and offers a glance, accompanied by a slight tilt of his head.

“Want some company?”

And it begins.