Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Succubus ❯ Succubus ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Succubus
Author: GuiltyRed
Rating: NC17
Warnings: supernatural het with just a hint of xeno
Word count: 975
Summary: Zack finds himself entertaining a most unexpected visitor.
Prompt: Sephiroth/Zack: gender-switch, seduction - How did you know it was me?




He wasn't exactly sure what woke him. Some small sound, or a movement without sound perhaps. Zack kept his eyes shut and pretended to sleep as he tried to identify what was out of place.

The air itself seemed different somehow, thick with waiting and utterly still.

Zack listened until his own heartbeat drowned out anything else that might have been there. Deciding that it would be better to act too soon than not at all, he vaulted from his bed to crouch beside it, ready for anything.

The room was empty.

Dragging in a deep breath, Zack chided himself for an over-active imagination. He had a room to himself, no insomniac new recruits or seasoned, snoring SOLDIERs to break his sleep. The window let in a pleasant breeze and -

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as Zack realized he hadn't left it open. “Who's here?” he demanded of the darkness.

The shadows shifted, and for one panicked moment Zack thought It's a ghost! Then a figure materialized out of the gloom: a tall and slender woman shrouded in black, face and even hair covered by wispy material. A rich, smoky scent wafted on the breeze, filling Zack's senses and making it very difficult to think.

“Are you some kind of sorceress?” he asked, blinking and shaking his head against the effects of the perfume. He crouched again, bracing for a fight. “What do you want?”

He felt the answer as if it had been spoken directly into his brain: “I need something from you.” The voice seemed at once regal and hollow, genderless, ageless. A hand lifted, silhouetted within the folds of the sleeve. “Please, Zack.”

Zack had been about to ask what she needed when he heard his name. “How do you know -?”

“I know many things.”

The scent of the perfume was making Zack dizzy now. He staggered a little, sat down awkwardly on his bed.

The apparition knelt swiftly at his feet. Long, pale fingers caressed his thighs before easing his cock free from his underwear; Zack noted in a disconnected way that he was already hard.

“I know - I'm still asleep, and this is a dream,” Zack mumbled, the last word coming out on a gasp as a hot and skillful mouth closed around his flesh. He'd heard of beings who visited men in their sleep and stole their seed, though he hadn't believed until now. The vigilant portion of his mind shouted at him to wake up and stop her, but his body no longer listened.

He allowed himself to be laid back on his bed.

The strange woman teased his cock with her tongue, tasted his skin with little nips among the hard, demanding kisses that were sure to leave bruises. She suckled briskly at the head, careful not to scrape with her teeth and just as careful to pull back before he got too close.

Zack groaned. If this is a dream, it had better get on with it! Lacking the will to fight, he reached out his hand, imploring her to continue.

The mattress shifted as she climbed onto the bed. Skirts raised to fall across Zack's belly, she straddled him, guiding him with one hand as the other braced against her own thigh for balance.

Zack's eyes flew open at the sensation of wet heat squeezing tight around his cock. He thrust upward, craving more; the pleasure owned him, body and soul, and he knew with a tremor of dread that he would do anything to have it continue. The smoky scent took on a feral muskiness, and Zack realized that it was no perfume: it was her scent, thick with sex and likely to remain on his sheets for weeks. He laughed softly, painfully excited by the thought that he could keep some part of this encounter for himself.

“Only once,” she whispered into his mind. “And then you would do well to forget.”

He wanted to argue, to beg, but she rolled her hips and took him in deeper, clenching down with silken muscle, and he forgot how to speak.

Zack heard his own breath rasping sharply in his throat, his heartbeat pounding like a jackhammer in his head as mako-heat began to answer the tidal call of sex. His hands clenched around the woman's hips, pulling her down onto him harder with each thrust.

She responded in silence, fingernails etching her claim into his chest as she accepted his rough need and answered it with her own.

As the first hard jolts of her climax rippled around him, Zack's world went mako-bright. He lurched upward with the force of the surge, clinging to her and holding her just there, where she squeezed him just so as she came in crashing waves above him.

Fuzzy silence rolled through his brain, bringing with it a profound weariness. Zack felt as though he were floating in a bale of spun cotton, though his limbs felt as heavy as stone. The last thing he saw before sleep claimed him was a tiny flash of pale and gleaming green.

* * *

The next morning, Zack tried to puzzle out what he'd been dreaming. His sheets told him it had been one hell of a wet one, but how they'd gotten that wildcat smell he really couldn't begin to guess.

And the scratches…

“Watch where you're going, Fair!”

“Ah! Sorry, Sephiroth!” He dodged aside, barely avoiding a collision.

“No problem.” Sephiroth waved the issue away. “Everyone's entitled to a little absent-mindedness now and then.”

“Yeah, guess you're -” Zack froze, staring as his commander's hand.

Under the fingernails, a narrow band of crimson.

“Uh, sir?” Zack whispered, barely breathing.

Sephiroth turned to face him, a predatory smirk on his sculpted lips and his eyes flashing pale green fire. “You would do well…to forget.”