Resisting Temptation [FFVII, Cloud/Tifa, M]
Title: Resisting Temptation
Author/Artist: sekiharatae
Rating: M
Warnings: Innuendo, references to sexual activities, but no graphic details.
Prompt: Final Fantasy 7, Cloud/Tifa, The trick (an action/catchphrase/item/cue that prompts immediate (sexual) action)
Word count: 1100
Summary: Cloud and Tifa have to set some boundaries.
A/N: There are references to several of my other Cloud/Tifa NC-17 stories in here, which -- if you get them -- will probably make things more fun, but if you don't, I think it still makes sense on it's own.
Bananas, Cloud had decided, were evil. Especially in Tifa’s hands. She’d once teased him with the inherently innuendo-laden fruit for three days straight before he’d snapped and taken her on top of the bar.
The sex and been fantastic. So had the mess of broken glass and spilled daiquiri.
Now all she had to do was start peeling one and he’d be hard and ready and seriously contemplating dragging her away for a little private time. And she knew it, too. He’d never believe her story about banana drinks suddenly being all the rage - and if they were, surely that was what banana liqueur was for?
After Denzel and Marlene nearly got a very inappropriate eyeful, he banned her from even touching the things if he were around to see. She laughed, teasing him about having no self-control, after which he slung her over his shoulder cave-man style and carried her upstairs to show her exactly how much control he had.
“Cloud! I wanted a banshee!” she protested, still laughing.
“So do I,” he agreed, closing the bedroom door with his foot, “but the kind I want is louder, sweeter, and results in a much bigger buzz.” Minutes later he was kneeling on the floor between her legs, and she was biting the blanket to muffle her screams of completion.
He figured he’d won that one, even if he did catch her petulantly slicing a banana ‘for garnish’ the next day. As the sight was in no way a turn-on, he merely raised an eyebrow, feigned a wince, and continued on through the kitchen.
Shortly thereafter, Tifa decided that Cloud was no longer allowed to drink things in front of her. Especially if they contained ice. Even if it was just a bottle of water - especially if it was a bottle of water. In fact, she might have to quit offering bottle ice to her customers on the go, since the mere sight of it made her knees weak and her nipples hard.
And it was all his fault. The man could be ridiculously and deviously inventive when it came to sex.
They worked and lived in a bar, for Shiva’s icy sake! It really wasn’t fair that he could sit down with a glass of pretty much anything, and have her pulse racing just by running his finger around the rim! The clink of ice in his glass made her shiver, and gods forbid he should offer to share, or touch her with condensation-cooled fingers to ask for a refill.
He had to know what it did to her. It explained why he’d suddenly taken to sucking on his ice when the glass was empty, going so far as to slip her melted slivers when she stopped by his seat to claim a kiss.
The way she climbed in his lap the minute the coast was clear might also have been a blatant clue.
The third time Marlene brought her a sweater - Tifa having blamed certain changes in her anatomy on being cold, as explaining sexual arousal to a six year old was definitely not happening - she refused to serve him anything that wasn’t in a can, and smacked his arm for the smugly knowing look he gave her in response.
When Barret came to visit, he quickly decided that both Cloud and Tifa were insane. What kind of a bar didn’t serve banana daiquiris, or denied a man a glass of ice with his canned drink? He later changed his mind, abruptly dropping both subjects after an afternoon with the kids. Denzel had helpfully explained that bananas made Cloud tired, requiring Tifa help him to bed; and Marlene had innocently remarked that Tifa was always cold after Cloud had been drinking things with ice in them. “She never remembers to wear a sweater, either,” his baby girl had continued, “so it’s a good thing Cloud doesn’t mind letting her snuggle up to him to keep warm.”
He really didn’t need to know anymore, and neither did the kids.
However, canned drinks and banana bans were just the start. Over time, the teasing prohibitions came to include skirts or shorts above mid-thigh (it was far too easy for Cloud to join her behind the bar, and then oh-so casually slip his fingertips inside to explore) and jeans that had been through the dryer one too many times (Tifa objected to anyone else being able to make out details such as length, girth, or which side he dressed on... even if she were to blame for those things being obvious).
Tifa, flushed as red as Reno’s hair, threatened to break Cloud’s fingers if she ever caught him fondling materia in her presence again, and no protests to the contrary - “I wasn’t fondling. You have to touch them to figure out what they are!” - could get her to change her mind.
They unanimously agreed to avoid popsicles after Tifa teased him by eating one slowly, with lots of sucking and licking and attention to the very tip; and he retaliated by demonstrating that popsicles were every bit as effective as bottle ice when it came to make-shift sexual aides. The lesson left them sticky and satisfied, and in agreement that sex on the roof was probably far too public.
Despite all their rules, though, there was nothing to be done about the effect her scent had on him, or his gaze on her. About the fact that he could sidle up behind her and breathe her name, not touching her in any other way, and still have her instantly grinding back against him in response, completely uncaring that someone might see. That she could whisper his while eyeing him from across the room, and find herself lifted off the floor, back pressed against the nearest surface, both of them ready to go further with scarcely any need for foreplay.
Yuffie had caught them enough times - recently - to wonder aloud if there was a single surface they hadn’t christened with their activity. Cloud’s smirk had the ninja protesting that she could never eat at the Seventh Heaven again, and that there was such a thing as TMI.
Tifa, after straightening her clothes, stopped the whining with a simple retort: “You’re the one who kept pestering me for details, Yuffie.”
“Well, sure... details. Not actual demonstrations.”
Blushing only slightly, Tifa linked arms with the younger woman and hauled her off toward the kitchen. “You should have been more specific, then,” she teased. “Besides,” glancing back at Cloud, she winked, “some temptations are just too good to resist.”
Author/Artist: sekiharatae
Rating: M
Warnings: Innuendo, references to sexual activities, but no graphic details.
Prompt: Final Fantasy 7, Cloud/Tifa, The trick (an action/catchphrase/item/cue that prompts immediate (sexual) action)
Word count: 1100
Summary: Cloud and Tifa have to set some boundaries.
A/N: There are references to several of my other Cloud/Tifa NC-17 stories in here, which -- if you get them -- will probably make things more fun, but if you don't, I think it still makes sense on it's own.
Bananas, Cloud had decided, were evil. Especially in Tifa’s hands. She’d once teased him with the inherently innuendo-laden fruit for three days straight before he’d snapped and taken her on top of the bar.
The sex and been fantastic. So had the mess of broken glass and spilled daiquiri.
Now all she had to do was start peeling one and he’d be hard and ready and seriously contemplating dragging her away for a little private time. And she knew it, too. He’d never believe her story about banana drinks suddenly being all the rage - and if they were, surely that was what banana liqueur was for?
After Denzel and Marlene nearly got a very inappropriate eyeful, he banned her from even touching the things if he were around to see. She laughed, teasing him about having no self-control, after which he slung her over his shoulder cave-man style and carried her upstairs to show her exactly how much control he had.
“Cloud! I wanted a banshee!” she protested, still laughing.
“So do I,” he agreed, closing the bedroom door with his foot, “but the kind I want is louder, sweeter, and results in a much bigger buzz.” Minutes later he was kneeling on the floor between her legs, and she was biting the blanket to muffle her screams of completion.
He figured he’d won that one, even if he did catch her petulantly slicing a banana ‘for garnish’ the next day. As the sight was in no way a turn-on, he merely raised an eyebrow, feigned a wince, and continued on through the kitchen.
Shortly thereafter, Tifa decided that Cloud was no longer allowed to drink things in front of her. Especially if they contained ice. Even if it was just a bottle of water - especially if it was a bottle of water. In fact, she might have to quit offering bottle ice to her customers on the go, since the mere sight of it made her knees weak and her nipples hard.
And it was all his fault. The man could be ridiculously and deviously inventive when it came to sex.
They worked and lived in a bar, for Shiva’s icy sake! It really wasn’t fair that he could sit down with a glass of pretty much anything, and have her pulse racing just by running his finger around the rim! The clink of ice in his glass made her shiver, and gods forbid he should offer to share, or touch her with condensation-cooled fingers to ask for a refill.
He had to know what it did to her. It explained why he’d suddenly taken to sucking on his ice when the glass was empty, going so far as to slip her melted slivers when she stopped by his seat to claim a kiss.
The way she climbed in his lap the minute the coast was clear might also have been a blatant clue.
The third time Marlene brought her a sweater - Tifa having blamed certain changes in her anatomy on being cold, as explaining sexual arousal to a six year old was definitely not happening - she refused to serve him anything that wasn’t in a can, and smacked his arm for the smugly knowing look he gave her in response.
When Barret came to visit, he quickly decided that both Cloud and Tifa were insane. What kind of a bar didn’t serve banana daiquiris, or denied a man a glass of ice with his canned drink? He later changed his mind, abruptly dropping both subjects after an afternoon with the kids. Denzel had helpfully explained that bananas made Cloud tired, requiring Tifa help him to bed; and Marlene had innocently remarked that Tifa was always cold after Cloud had been drinking things with ice in them. “She never remembers to wear a sweater, either,” his baby girl had continued, “so it’s a good thing Cloud doesn’t mind letting her snuggle up to him to keep warm.”
He really didn’t need to know anymore, and neither did the kids.
However, canned drinks and banana bans were just the start. Over time, the teasing prohibitions came to include skirts or shorts above mid-thigh (it was far too easy for Cloud to join her behind the bar, and then oh-so casually slip his fingertips inside to explore) and jeans that had been through the dryer one too many times (Tifa objected to anyone else being able to make out details such as length, girth, or which side he dressed on... even if she were to blame for those things being obvious).
Tifa, flushed as red as Reno’s hair, threatened to break Cloud’s fingers if she ever caught him fondling materia in her presence again, and no protests to the contrary - “I wasn’t fondling. You have to touch them to figure out what they are!” - could get her to change her mind.
They unanimously agreed to avoid popsicles after Tifa teased him by eating one slowly, with lots of sucking and licking and attention to the very tip; and he retaliated by demonstrating that popsicles were every bit as effective as bottle ice when it came to make-shift sexual aides. The lesson left them sticky and satisfied, and in agreement that sex on the roof was probably far too public.
Despite all their rules, though, there was nothing to be done about the effect her scent had on him, or his gaze on her. About the fact that he could sidle up behind her and breathe her name, not touching her in any other way, and still have her instantly grinding back against him in response, completely uncaring that someone might see. That she could whisper his while eyeing him from across the room, and find herself lifted off the floor, back pressed against the nearest surface, both of them ready to go further with scarcely any need for foreplay.
Yuffie had caught them enough times - recently - to wonder aloud if there was a single surface they hadn’t christened with their activity. Cloud’s smirk had the ninja protesting that she could never eat at the Seventh Heaven again, and that there was such a thing as TMI.
Tifa, after straightening her clothes, stopped the whining with a simple retort: “You’re the one who kept pestering me for details, Yuffie.”
“Well, sure... details. Not actual demonstrations.”
Blushing only slightly, Tifa linked arms with the younger woman and hauled her off toward the kitchen. “You should have been more specific, then,” she teased. “Besides,” glancing back at Cloud, she winked, “some temptations are just too good to resist.”