Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Cell Division	By : Savaial Category: Final Fantasy VII > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2025 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy. It belongs to SquareEnix. I do not make any money from these writings, nor do I wish to. The original creators have all my respect, from game designers to voice actors.

Chapter List
- 1-Cell Division
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 12
- 13
- 14
I respectfully credit all Original Creators, namely Squaresoft, which became SquareEnix,for these characters. In this way, I pay homage to my Fandom's Original Creator, and illustrate my Community's belief that Fan Fiction is "fair use". I do not claim to own these characters. I do not make money or gil from using these protected characters, nor do I wish to make money or gil from them. In other words, I am borrowing these characters to entertain the adult fanfiction community, but I am doing so with the highest degree of respect to the engineers, game designers, music makers, and voice actors.

So well fed we were sleepy, we staggered back out into the bleak, concrete cityscape. Only Hojo seemed unaffected by his meal, but he�d eaten fresh fruit with cream and a few slices of baked clove ham.
�Hey, sweetness,� a man called out, his eyes upon Alison. I judged him about six feet, seven inches tall and at least three hundred pounds. He rippled with muscle. It bulged out of his tank-top and pushed the fabric out on his thighs. He had a hard-on.
Hojo let his hand drop away from the car door. His entire body went still, waiting.
Alison, barely paying attention, kept moving for her own door. �Get lost,� she said, her face scornful.
�Bitch,� the man said.
Hojo looked across the top of his car at Jean, who vibrated with rage. �It�s your call, Jean,� he said, giving clear permission.
With a roar, Jean launched himself onto the man.
We all four leaned against the car to watch Jean beat the immortal hell out of his opponent. Sickened at first, I still found I couldn�t look away. I couldn�t help but appreciate Jean�s speed and strength, and his unholy glee in whipping the guy. He got three strikes to every one the man managed to land. Blood sprayed the parking lot, us, the car and even the neighboring vehicle.
Hojo looked at his watch. Like he might be retrieving a phone, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, single barrel pistol of bright chrome. I saw him frown and tilt his head to aim, his hand raise�
Pffft.
Not a bang, not an explosion, just a pneumatic rush of air. Jean�s adversary collapsed.
�Not bad, Jean,� Hojo said, putting the dart gun away. �But, you�re still swinging too wide. Come from your center.�
�Yes, sir,� Jean said, looking more alive than I�d yet to see him. His eyes positively sparkled. He spat a tooth.
�Jean,� Hojo reprimanded lightly, stooping to pick up the tooth.
Jean obediently allowed Hojo to put his tooth back in.
�I believe he�ll go in the trunk,� Michael said, hovering over the felled ox. �It�ll be a tight fit, though. Might have to push the back bench up a little.�
�Oh, twist my arm,� Hojo said, finishing with Jean and opening his door. �Be quick.�
Alison ran over to Jean and began fussing over him as Michael popped the trunk. I got in the car and belted in, slightly stunned by the knowledge we were abducting someone. We were putting a body in the trunk.
We were putting a body in the trunk.
It deserved more than one nod.
I felt the chassis rock as Michael dumped the unwise bodybuilder behind me. The lid slammed. Everyone else entered the car, same positions as before. Compelled to meet those eyes I felt staring at me from the mirror, I gave in.
I have questions, I said silently. If he could read me so well, he�d know what I was thinking.
He smiled.
Again we experienced another adventure on Midgar�s Murder Main. Hojo evaded five more accidents, commenting about the advantageous extra weight in the back. It seemed he got better traction with a body back there. I could believe it. He executed maneuvers to make clever, car-crash television show writers envious.
Once back on the lot, Jean slung his enemy�s body over his shoulder like a war trophy. �Pod, sir?� he asked Hojo eagerly.
�Pod, Jean,� Hojo confirmed. �Good boy. You�re back on orderly duties as of Monday.�
�Thank you, sir,� Jean said, preceding us. Alison followed, then Michael, then me, then the man himself.
�Label the pod and occupant, Jean,� Hojo called out once we began parting ways at the main lab hallway. �Standard UV print on the wrist.� He didn�t wait for a response but kept walking for his office. I stayed just behind him, intent on lying down awhile.
Hojo locked the door behind us. He unplugged the phone from the wall and crossed to his couch. Stretching his lean body out upon the deep, red cushions, he slung an arm over his eyes and went still.
I hesitated. I was supposed to be his attendant, or assistant, or whatever.
What the hell. If nothing else he deserved a little attention for his amazing driving. I�d have admired even the worst serial killer for moves such as his.
I went into the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in very cold water, wringing it out. Shaking two aspirin from a bottle in the cabinet, I then walked back out to him. He jerked when I touched him, but moved his arm away. I put the cloth on his forehead, placed the aspirin on the little side table beside him, and searched for a glass. Making a deduction, I checked his drinks cabinet. Inside were clean glasses, bottles of liquor and sparkling water. I poured him a little water and put it down beside the aspirin.
�Sir?�
�Yes?� Hojo sat up and grabbed both water and aspirin. To my horror he just chewed the aspirin up and washed them down. Almost immediately he dropped back to the couch.
�Why do you take us out if it hurts you?�
Hojo laughed, showing his teeth. �Taking you all out isn�t the problem, my dear,� he answered. �I forgot my sunblock.�
�But, you aren�t burned, sir,� I said.
�I don�t burn, but sunlight gives me a headache.� Hojo coiled his midsection, bringing himself upright once more. �Be a dear and remind me to wear the sunscreen the next time we have an outing.� He sighed. �I really miss sunbathing. Ah well; you can�t have everything.�
�Would you like me to find some classical music, sir? It might soothe.�
�Yes, Miss Grey, please.� He tilted his head. �If I fall asleep, wake me after twenty minutes.�
Oh, double hell. This was his room. He was supposed to be the one sleeping in here. I doubted he�d slept the whole night.
Why did I feel compelled to help a man that held my leash?
Don�t they all, in one manner or another? My mind whispered.
�Sir, there�s a bed,� I pointed out as I fiddled with his radio. I found harp music. That would suit, surely.
�Indeed there is a bed, Miss Grey.� He opened his eyes and let the cloth drop into his hand. �Are you offering its use?�
�Yes, sir. If you need a nap, take one properly.�
�I accept your generosity.� He arose and after making one, clumsy step, walked gracefully into my room. He pivoted, falling onto his back in the middle of my bed. The squishy mattress promptly swallowed him, except for his legs from the knees down.
I looked at his heavy, chemical-impervious boots. Headaches could be eliminated by foot massage.
No. No, no, no. Why would I even think about offering myself in such a way? I was his slave, for Shiva�s sake!
But, it might buy me favor. Favor led to smoother time with him. And, since I wouldn�t be separated from him for awhile, likely, it behooved me to gain goodwill.
I sat in the floor and untied his left boot. Again he gave a little jerk of surprise, but he then stilled. I suspected he anticipated I would just remove his footwear so he could sleep better. He remained still as I removed his sock and went on to his other boot.
He had elegant, highly arched feet. His long toes ended in a neat, square pedicure.
Gently, I applied myself to his left sole, rolling my knuckles down the center. He groaned. I heard his arm flop down to the bed. Encouraged, I massaged his heel. More groaning. He groaned loudest when I manipulated the ball of his foot, getting right at the base of his toes.
Power.
I did have a little of it.
I worked on him for fifteen minutes, each foot. I shook his ankles out and cracked his toes for him, which made him sigh. He fell asleep the moment I finished, making me think he�d held onto consciousness just to experience the foot rub.
I covered him with my blanket and went into his office to give him peace, my eye on the clock. I�d wake him in twenty minutes, like he said, but I thought he needed rather more time than that.
For the first time since arriving in this office, I really looked at my surroundings. This room told me more about the occupant than I�d originally seen.
He liked red. He liked dark, arterial red and wine red.
He liked books; he had shelves and shelves of them. One shelf had books with the bindings all alike.
He liked leather.
He liked a good drink.
He listened to classical music. He opted for a radio instead of a television, showing his age.
He liked heady incense and to smoke while he worked.
The facts aligned.
Hojo was a sensualist.
I thought about it. It made sense, actually. His daily work life revolved around figures and findings and apparently being in two places at once. Here, in his sanctuary, he adopted a slower way of doing things. He looked at leather and velvet and dark red instead of stainless steel, granite and white melamine. He smelled good incense instead of detergents and sterilizers. He drank liquor instead of water while in this room. He ate in here. He read in here. And, until my arrival, he occasionally slept in here.
This was his home.
I could bet his apartment away from Shin-Ra looked uninhabited. Lonely.
There was that word again.
Like I had a force pulling me, I went into the bedroom and stood beside the bed to look down at Hojo.
He seemed no less dangerous asleep, just�still. If I made even the slightest sound he�d probably awaken instantly.
He really had perfect skin. I saw sort of an olive tint to him in this light. His blue-black hair gleamed darkly. His long, straight nose lent an almost delicate dignity to his angular face. The lips underneath, thin and full by division, twitched as I stared at him. He had no lines on his skin except for the crinkle marks at the corners of his eyes. Laugh lines. He needed a shave and he needed to take his lab coat off.
My eyes traveled his body.
Ninety years old, my enslaved ass. In the spirit of being honest, I admitted he possessed a very attractive build. Flat stomach, long arms and legs, broad shoulders, narrow hips and plenty of wiry muscle�
The dirty woman that rented space in my head just chuckled, urging me to climb on for the ride of my life. Feeling hot inside, I let her entertain me.
�could fuck you for hours and not stop�
�complete, delicious servitude�
�put you on your knees and make you love it�
I left him, telling myself I only checked the time but feeling defeated.
He had five more minutes.
Damn it, so what if I felt an attraction to him? It didn�t mean anything. Human beings felt attraction for all sorts of reason. The only real reason his allure bothered me was my inability to say �no� to him. It hurt my pride. Still, had he asked me to do anything I wouldn�t have done in the same circumstances, free?
No.
Goddamn it.
I went into the bathroom and prepped a razor and shaving cream for him, running a sink full of hot water. Taking a clean towel, I put it within easy reach. He still had a toothbrush in here, so I rinsed it and put toothpowder on it, setting it on the empty soap dish.
�pin your arms down while he thrusts hard�
I groaned and told my dirty tenant to fuck off.
Reasoning this was his room and he ought to still have clothes stored here, I checked my dresser. In moments I discovered pants and shirts, but no underwear, socks or ties. Better than nothing. I carried these into the bathroom, stacking them onto the closed lid on the toilet.
Time to wake him up.
Leaning over him, I slowly put my arm out. �Sir?� I whispered, putting my fingers on his shoulder.
Groaning, Hojo turned his head to the side. �Miss Grey,� he answered me, awake but not aware.
�Do you want more than twenty minutes?� I asked.
He shivered all over, just once. �No.� His voice sounded raspy and quiet. �I have work to do.�
�It�s Saturday, sir,� I reminded him.
Hojo rolled to a sitting position and took out his hair tie, sighing. �I don�t have any such thing as a weekend, Miss Grey,� he answered me, his slick, dark hair spilling over his shoulders. �My slavery is twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.� He dragged himself from the bed and stretched. �Not that I expect your sympathy.�
Rumpled and sleepy, he began patting his pockets for something.
And, just like that, no warning whatsoever, I found that I did care. I wouldn�t jump in front of a car for him anytime soon, but I did care.
�To an extent, you have it anyway, sir,� I said, trying not to look at him. �You might feel better if you freshen up.�
�Hm,� he replied, finding his cigarettes. He stuck one in his mouth and lit it. �Probably right.�
Staving back instinctive leeriness of getting close, I took him gently by his arm and turned his unresisting form toward the bathroom. He let me walk him all the way there and sort of half-shove him inside. I took his glasses just before shutting the door on him.
As I heard the shower start running, I looked through his lenses. His prescription was so weak I knew he could easily do without them. However, they were a chosen affectation and very dirty, so I went into the office and cleaned them with a little sparkling water and one of his stray handkerchiefs.
�black hair falling in my face�
�lips on my neck�
Shuddering, I sat down. My breakfast had been drugged. That stood as the most logical reason I would think this way. He hadn�t given me much sexual innuendo, nor had he dosed me with an aphrodisiac�
I didn�t think so, anyway.
I tried to picture what he looked like, water falling all over him, hair slicked down, eyes closed to the spray. Unfortunately, with a memory like mine, my imagination could piece together realistic images. I saw him easily.
Arousal wracked my body. I clenched up to the torturous, delicious wave of lust. My last man hadn�t fulfilled me. My last man stood four years in the past. He�d had a small penis, a big head and appetite, but no staying power. Ten thrusts, two squirts and it ended. Little foreplay, never an orgasm I didn�t create. Just sad.
It's not enough
It's not enough
It's more than will ever be enough
I�m getting off
Goddamn song! I stood up and began to pace. Why didn�t I think to buy a vibrator while in town with Michael yesterday? I had a great one at home, and used it often in lieu of a decent boyfriend.
I couldn�t think about home. Not now.
I�m getting off
I�m getting off to you
Hold my knees
Lick my treat?
Fuck I�m coming
Fuck I�m coming on you
Like lightning, I saw myself on my knees before him, his hand in my hair. That gentle touch, warm and patient with his pet�
I wished he would get out of my damn bathroom. I needed relief or I�d never be able to deal with him.
Like he�d heard me, he came out. With effort I looked up at his cleanly shaven face, his wet hair and dark eyes. He halted. Tilting his head, he smiled very slightly. �Feeling�anxious, Miss Grey?�
�Have I been drugged, sir?� I asked, still gripping the back of a chair like a life preserver. Screw dignity. Screw him.
Yes, yes, screw him.
�No.� He gave a short little laugh. �It�s the lab. I burn incense in here to combat the pheromone vapor. Smoking cigarettes helps, too.� He approached with a slow, steady gait. �But, you don�t smoke. No incense has burned in here for twelve hours.�
Please, I thought. Please don�t get close enough for me to smell you.
�So, want to tell me who you�re thinking about?� Hojo stopped before actually reaching me. �Michael, perhaps? Jean put on an impressive display, maybe you�ll give Alison competition?�
�No, I don�t want to tell you, sir,� I whispered, looking back at the floor. �I find this humiliating.�
�You find your sex drive humiliating?� Hojo�s hand closed over my chin, drawing my eyes back. �I can�t believe that. You were a marriage counselor, Miss Grey. You understand fully that humans find mates, just like any other animal.� He released me slowly. Putting out his hand, he found a box of incense and shook out a few sticks.
I watched as he lit them and pushed the ends down into the soil around his potted plant. �Thank you for taking care of me, my dear,� he said softly. �I�ll return the favor.�
Suddenly, he grabbed me, whirling me to face the bookshelf. Hands firm but careful, he gripped my upper arms. I felt that lean body behind mine, pressed to me just slightly. �It won�t be as humiliating in here,� he told me. �In your current state you�ll disobey me by accident, and since we�re going out to the lab��
Warm breath stirred the hair at my ear.
�I order you not to think about sex, Miss Grey.�
I stiffened at that dark voice.
The orgasm built hot and fast, melting my pelvis and incinerating all thought. I heard myself sobbing as if from very far away, and Hojo�s voice a coaxing murmur of seductive nonsense. My legs buckled, but he held me flush to his body. On and on I rode waves of brain-melting pleasure, feeling my juices soak my underwear, feeling his erection against the top of my ass. I kept bucking, thrashing against that hardness, seeking him with primitive need.
Blackness edged my vision.
Hojo lifted me in his arms and carried me to the couch, still shuddering. �Beautiful,� he murmured. �A private show to die for.� I felt tender, warm fingers brushing tears from my face. �Again?� he asked softly.
�No, sir,� I panted, face and body burning.
�No?� He took my face in his hands, his careful touch almost reverent. �I think you�ll sleep with just one more. It would give you time to fight the pheromones.�
I groaned, torn between pleasure and pain. At least I knew now, at least I could be assured I hadn�t lost my mind. There was a reason for all my obsessive thoughts about his sexual aptitude. I didn�t have to be ashamed of that. But, to come for him just because he wanted it�
�I�ve never been able to deny myself beauty,� he told me quietly, �or, I�d spare you my eyes.�
I felt him lean closer to me. His heat and scent made it all so much worse. Or better. I didn�t know which.
�Don�t think about coming in front of me, Miss Grey.�
This orgasm ripped me apart. I shrieked with the force of it, my legs reaching for him. Everything shook. I tugged, pulling his body down to mine. That hard, lean frame, so heavy and powerful, covered me. I rocked against him, grabbing at his shoulders and back, desperate. I melted, collapsed, screaming his title, his name and a plethora of curses.
In seconds, when the roar of blood subsided in my ears, I heard my own panting and felt ashamed.
My god, I was clinging to him.
I opened my eyes to the blackness of his hair. My head left like concrete; I couldn�t move it from his shoulder. Each ragged breath I drew only brought his scent into my brain and lungs. Somehow I�d gotten my hands under his shirt. My nails felt imbedded in his smooth back.
�I think another-.� He began.
�No!� I thought I would cry. �Please, no, sir.� If he did it to me again, my heart would stop.
�Mmm,� he murmured, gathering me and lifting. �Of all the people that call me �sir,� it means the most coming from you, because you, my dear, don�t mean it.�
I was only half-aware of him putting me on the bed and crouching to remove my shoes. Staring at his white, linen-clad shoulders, at the dark curtains of black falling all around them, I shivered. Red smudged the colorless fabric. Slowly, I raised my hands and looked. Crusting blood under my nails� �I�m sorry,� I blurted.
�I�m not.� Hojo stood up. �Scoot back, my dear.�
I obeyed and he covered me. �Sleep awhile,� he said, his tone kind. �I�ll do paperwork until you awaken.�
I already obeyed, though because of sheer exhaustion, not his command.
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Cell Division