Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ For My Emperor ❯ For My Emperor ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Title: For My Emperor
Author: GuiltyRed
Rating: NC17
Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism
Word count: 490
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus, Weiss/Shelke: voyeurism - sixteen going on seventeen.
Summary: Young woman trapped in a child's body, Shelke can only imagine the things she wants, though it never hurts to watch.
Author: GuiltyRed
Rating: NC17
Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism
Word count: 490
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus, Weiss/Shelke: voyeurism - sixteen going on seventeen.
Summary: Young woman trapped in a child's body, Shelke can only imagine the things she wants, though it never hurts to watch.
She doesn't know if he knows that she watches him, and she's not sure what would happen if he did. She suspects he would forbid this, that he would banish her from his company, but it has never come to the test. Every time, his eyes have remained closed.
Shelke pauses mid-step, cautious as a cat. She scans the room for any hint of Restrictor. Finding none, she skirts the perimeter of the room until the massive throne - or more precisely, its occupant - is in plain view. Shelke bites her lip softly as she verifies that her ears had not deceived her.
Trousers pushed down only as far as absolutely necessary, Weiss has himself in hand. He strokes deliberately, not too fast though definitely not slowly; his breath is quick and sketchy.
Shelke stares at his bare chest as it rises and falls with his breathing. The man who never seems to break a sweat in combat is straining against his own rhythm as though daring himself to go faster. Chains at his arms and throat whisper like muted bells.
Careful to make no sound, Shelke peels off her right glove, then slips her hand inside her battle suit, aiming for heat. She almost whimpers as her fingers brush across her too-sensitive clit, then she repeats the touch more firmly.
Her gaze never leaves her Emperor.
Powerful muscles bunch and flex as his hand glides over his cock. He tightens his fist around the head and tugs gently; as though surprised at the pleasure of his own touch, his lips part in a soundless gasp and he arches forward only to be held firmly in place by the collar around his neck.
Shelke licks her lips, her eyes focused on his erection. She fidgets until she gets her hand fully beneath her, curling the fingers upward and in; she can just manage three fingers before her wrist starts to cramp. For a moment she shuts her eyes and imagines what he would feel like, so much larger than her hand, thrusting with all the power of mako-enhanced muscles and all the lust of a caged beast.
Frustrated with the awkward angle, Shelke pulls her hand back to rub furiously at her clit. The sound of wet gives her a thrill of fear: her own hearing had led her to witness Weiss' most private moment; what if Azul or Rosso were passing by and heard her?
What if Nero heard?
Shelke freezes, fingers pressing hard against the throb of her orgasm. Mako fire sparks through her body, beginning in her cunt and radiating outward until the very world turns blue-white. She stands unmoving as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocks her to her core, then lingers in that stillness for several moments trying to catch her breath.
Blinking, Shelke tries to pull things back into focus.
The first thing she notices is the silence.
Then: the unmistakable glimmer of blue-gold eyes.
Shelke pauses mid-step, cautious as a cat. She scans the room for any hint of Restrictor. Finding none, she skirts the perimeter of the room until the massive throne - or more precisely, its occupant - is in plain view. Shelke bites her lip softly as she verifies that her ears had not deceived her.
Trousers pushed down only as far as absolutely necessary, Weiss has himself in hand. He strokes deliberately, not too fast though definitely not slowly; his breath is quick and sketchy.
Shelke stares at his bare chest as it rises and falls with his breathing. The man who never seems to break a sweat in combat is straining against his own rhythm as though daring himself to go faster. Chains at his arms and throat whisper like muted bells.
Careful to make no sound, Shelke peels off her right glove, then slips her hand inside her battle suit, aiming for heat. She almost whimpers as her fingers brush across her too-sensitive clit, then she repeats the touch more firmly.
Her gaze never leaves her Emperor.
Powerful muscles bunch and flex as his hand glides over his cock. He tightens his fist around the head and tugs gently; as though surprised at the pleasure of his own touch, his lips part in a soundless gasp and he arches forward only to be held firmly in place by the collar around his neck.
Shelke licks her lips, her eyes focused on his erection. She fidgets until she gets her hand fully beneath her, curling the fingers upward and in; she can just manage three fingers before her wrist starts to cramp. For a moment she shuts her eyes and imagines what he would feel like, so much larger than her hand, thrusting with all the power of mako-enhanced muscles and all the lust of a caged beast.
Frustrated with the awkward angle, Shelke pulls her hand back to rub furiously at her clit. The sound of wet gives her a thrill of fear: her own hearing had led her to witness Weiss' most private moment; what if Azul or Rosso were passing by and heard her?
What if Nero heard?
Shelke freezes, fingers pressing hard against the throb of her orgasm. Mako fire sparks through her body, beginning in her cunt and radiating outward until the very world turns blue-white. She stands unmoving as pulse after pulse of pleasure rocks her to her core, then lingers in that stillness for several moments trying to catch her breath.
Blinking, Shelke tries to pull things back into focus.
The first thing she notices is the silence.
Then: the unmistakable glimmer of blue-gold eyes.