counterfeit - final fantasy vii - final fantasy in general - 44 in drag
final fantasy vii, cloud strife/tifa lockhart.
"they have to have their illusions."
nc17, crossdressing, sex, for the prompt "in drag" (44).
cloud has learned to wear dresses with some degree of dignity. it amuses tifa now to think of how tentative he was, how he wouldn't do it for aeris. he was just hiding his secret longing for it and now tifa has him in silk and satin whenever she wants. whenever she asks. it brings out the insecurities - even more than usual, anyway. it reminds him he is not, never was, a soldier, not really. it reminds him that he doesn't have to be that way with her.
she smoothes her hand over his side, carefully, imagining a bigger curve to the hip under her hand. he's watching her; she doesn't look up. lets him watch her as she looks him over, touches the curves, real and counterfeit.
strip, she tells him, a hint of command in her voice for the hint of the soldier in the way he stands there. she hears him clear his throat, masculine, and then catches his hesitation; feminine. he pulls the dress off then and she watches. she takes it from him and puts it away and then moves over to him. kisses him, tasting lipstick, and presses against him.
she closes her hand around his wrist and guides it where she wants it to go, his fingers thicker than a woman's. she doesn't let that ruin the fantasy as his fingers slide up inside her. his breath catches and he whimpers, feminine, eager. she pushes closer to him. moans coaxingly, her hips tilting.
yeah, that's right, tifa whispers. cloud's breath catches again and his fingers push deeper, rougher. yeah.
she reaches behind him to undo the bra, carefully sliding away the illusion. he whimpers again.
her fingers curl around his cock carefully, holding. squeezing. and then stroking as his fingers push deeper into her, making her draw in a deep breath and fight for composure. it's ridiculously easy to please him, to make him moan. she does it with a feeling that she's being generous in diverting her attention from the feeling of his fingers filling a measure of the emptiness.
she doesn't always want him like this. most of the time she doesn't have the time to waste on illusions and counterfeits. but now - this is something for her, as the smile is for him. they have to have their illusions.
"they have to have their illusions."
nc17, crossdressing, sex, for the prompt "in drag" (44).
cloud has learned to wear dresses with some degree of dignity. it amuses tifa now to think of how tentative he was, how he wouldn't do it for aeris. he was just hiding his secret longing for it and now tifa has him in silk and satin whenever she wants. whenever she asks. it brings out the insecurities - even more than usual, anyway. it reminds him he is not, never was, a soldier, not really. it reminds him that he doesn't have to be that way with her.
she smoothes her hand over his side, carefully, imagining a bigger curve to the hip under her hand. he's watching her; she doesn't look up. lets him watch her as she looks him over, touches the curves, real and counterfeit.
strip, she tells him, a hint of command in her voice for the hint of the soldier in the way he stands there. she hears him clear his throat, masculine, and then catches his hesitation; feminine. he pulls the dress off then and she watches. she takes it from him and puts it away and then moves over to him. kisses him, tasting lipstick, and presses against him.
she closes her hand around his wrist and guides it where she wants it to go, his fingers thicker than a woman's. she doesn't let that ruin the fantasy as his fingers slide up inside her. his breath catches and he whimpers, feminine, eager. she pushes closer to him. moans coaxingly, her hips tilting.
yeah, that's right, tifa whispers. cloud's breath catches again and his fingers push deeper, rougher. yeah.
she reaches behind him to undo the bra, carefully sliding away the illusion. he whimpers again.
her fingers curl around his cock carefully, holding. squeezing. and then stroking as his fingers push deeper into her, making her draw in a deep breath and fight for composure. it's ridiculously easy to please him, to make him moan. she does it with a feeling that she's being generous in diverting her attention from the feeling of his fingers filling a measure of the emptiness.
she doesn't always want him like this. most of the time she doesn't have the time to waste on illusions and counterfeits. but now - this is something for her, as the smile is for him. they have to have their illusions.