nsfw alphabet dom!sephiroth
contents: unhinged sephiroth hc’s, dom!sephiroth x sub!reader, protective/possessive seph, p*rn w feelings, somnophilia, marking, yandere/stalker archetype mentioned in “j.”
It usually goes like this. You remain pressed together, him inside you, above you, gentle kisses dropped onto your oversensitized skin. He is the only thing that exists, your entire world, all-encompassing, a universe of comfort and love and searing heat. You are far beyond words, and even your tears have stopped running, but it doesn’t matter, because he feels his heart beat in tandem with yours, your soul intertwined with his. Your cunt occasionally clenches around his still somewhat hard cock, but he doesn’t move, careful not to hurt, but loathe to leave your warmth. He wants you to feel how much he loves you, because words will never feel good enough. And right now, after loving you so thoroughly that you are both still shaking, he slowly pulls out, slipping two of his fingers inside you to help you slowly close up, minding the whines that tumble out of your mouth, minding your clit, oversensitive from his abuse. “i’ve got you.” and he settles on his side, facing you, pulling you into him, to kiss and caress and hold you until you fall asleep in his arms.
Sephiroth likes his body more for functionality than aesthetics. That can’t be said for his hair though. At first, he liked that he was strong, big, and tough enough to deal with the abuse his father and his shitty environment threw at him. He likes how he’s always been so agile and fast. Always catching others by surprise, their incredulous eyes when his masamune is in their throat before they even see him move. He loved when he could finally fight back and win. Then, he came to love and hate in equal parts the way others looked at him, trying to gauge if they wanted to talk to him or run from him. He knows how tall he is, and that his muscles are packed, the width of his shoulders. He likes his dexterous hands, he likes his strong jaw and smooth voice, how it makes anyone shake a little bit. He loves that he can pick you up and manhandle you so easily, like his body was made to worship and adore yours. He likes his cock too, even though you were weary of it at first, not sure if it would fit. He lives for the way it takes everything in you to take him. How he breaks you apart every time, threading the line between pleasure and pain, between worship and desecration. He goes insane for your pussy, his own personal heaven, made for him to lick and fuck and breed. Loves your thighs and covers them in bite marks, your legs wrapped around him, loves your pretty tummy and the way it goes all taut when you’re on your hands and knees as he presses on your back until your arms give out. He loves your dainty hands in his. He loves your neck with his teeth and his kisses, holding your life in his hands. He’ll sometimes possessively grope your ass out of nowhere, just to make you jump, and he loves fondling your tits in the crudest, most vile way possible, to make his good girl squirm and blush, reminding you that your his. A contrast to when he lays on your chest to listen to your heartbeat, your hands running through his hair, making delicious little shivers run down his spine, his hips and into his cock. And what makes his heart burst and his eyes twitch, what makes him so unbelievably hard, is your face, all of the thousand different smiles you have, your plush lips and your delicate teeth, your sweet tongue, your nose he can’t stop kissing, your jewel-like eyes he has to make himself look away from, your elegant cheekbones and the curve of your jaw. The little beauty marks in random places. Can’t forget about your voice, soothing him and exciting him in turn. Sometimes it almost makes him hate himself, that he was born to kill and ruin and destroy, that this is what he is the absolute best at, when all he wants to do is worship your beauty and your life. He’ll have to settle for sex, to make up for all he cannot say.
He’s only a man, isn’t he? It’s natural to want to come inside you all the time, he reassures himself. It’s biology. He loves when you swallow him down too, begging for his cum down your throat, on your face too sometimes. He had to pull out of you (ignoring your frustrated whines) to make himself come on your stomach so many times when you were just starting to mess around. Now that he knows the absolute ecstasy of emptying himself deep inside you, of filling you up, making you utterly his, he’s never, ever pulling out again.
His intelligence and terrifying laser-focus, his ability to strategize and predict an exact outcome. Mind tricks and invincibility, combined with his physical abilities and talent for violence, it made him a dream for shinras science department and would have made him a nightmare for such a sweet girl if he didn’t love you so much. Being on the receiving end of his full, undivided, eternal attention feels like standing in the eye of an omniscient god who just really, really wants what’s between your thighs, what’s behind your ribs, what’s inside your skull. His frequent deployments and ventures mess even more with his need to claim you, and your need to be claimed, to be held and possessed by him, and because you’re so smart, you do some research and shyly suggest that he give you a toy only he could control. His brain fully stops functioning for a moment, especially since you bring this up during a fully clothed conversation about your mutual feelings. You take his silence for hesitation, or even worse, rejection, so you give him some more arguments, about how you both love and crave when he orders you around and you obey him perfectly, the relief and sense of rightness that floods you both when you’re at his mercy. How he gets off on telling you you’re his, his and only his, making you repeat it back to him. When his hand rests around your throat at all times without squeezing, just because he needs to feel you with him. When he rewards you endlessly for being such a good girl for him, for keeping yourself safe like he taught you, for sucking his dick when he told you to, for showing him how wet his voice makes you. You say all that, and he says “Anything for you.” in that voice of his, desire burning in his eyes.
Not much but that doesn’t mean he can’t fuck. Sephiroth was primarily focused on his goals and his connection to Jenova, not on romantic relationships. But then you came along. In a way you helped guide eachother. He hears your wants and needs, turning them into realities. You learn from eachother.
He loves it all, with a preference for anything that allows him to see your face, all of your blushing, see how you look up at him in pure adoration and love. He needs something that allows him to cage you in, hold you against him, all safe and sound, for him to position however he wants. He’s a big fan of fucking you on your back with your ankles crossed behind his neck, folding you until you’re completely at his mercy, opened up for him to take. Really loves fucking you on your side as well, especially in the middle of the night, under the covers, with you all tangled in his arms, your leg high on his waist, every inch of you pressed against him. Prone doggy works really well too, especially when he covers you with his heavy body, better than any weighted blanket, to take away all your anxieties and help you focus on nothing else than receiving his love, and giving him all of yours. Sometimes he takes you against a wall, when he wants to show off his strength, but your height difference can make it somewhat awkward.
Sephiroth = very dry, and dark, sense of humor. He can be witty at times. When you first began your relationship, he tried so hard to make you laugh even if the jokes were awkward, so you’d relax and feel safer with him. He allowed you to make little jokes in bed, because he knew the tension was hard on your poor nerves. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous either. The nervousness melted away eventually.
Sephiroths not very hairy on the rest of his body, courtesy of his light hair. The hair on his head is a different story. Sometimes during sex you’d pull on it without realizing, earning a graon and a, “Do that again.” from above you.
Any sort of relationship with Sephiroth will need a stupendous amount of trust and intimacy to even exist in the first place. He, just like you, is far too intense, too odd, too traumatized to allow for regular human feelings and relationships. Sex with him feels like you could drown if you aren’t careful. If he didn’t keep you conscious and swimming in his arms, in the tsunami of feelings and sensations you bring to each other. It feels like a declaration of love every time, and you cry under him more than a few times (he’s always so proud of you for giving him so much). Everything about living with Sephiroth is intimate, the s necklace around your neck, the ache between your legs, his scent in your bed, his kisses whenever he’s close to you, his voice permeating your dreams. When you bring him a glass of water while he’s doing reading, and he loops an arm around your hips to bring you closer. He looks up at you just long enough to kiss your hip in thanks, and you curl up with your own book on the couch opposite to him, not prying in his business, but still present. He takes you to bed twenty minutes later. When he makes you strip in front of him while he sits with his legs spread. When you both wake up in tandem at three on some random thursday night, overcome with love, even though you already had each other not five hours ago, you lift your leg over his hip he can slide inside of you. Your face pressed against his throat, while he mumbles insane words about how much he loves you, thanking you for letting him inside you, that he knows it hurts, and you’re his little slut and he loves you to death.
Sephiroth has this uncanny ability to dominate his environment, to use every single piece of sensory information, of material component for his own purposes. He remembers every sensation, every ache, every movement. He remembers every pleasure, every taste, every feel. When he’s deployed, thousands and thousands of miles away from you, the only thing that can put him to sleep is to drown himself in every sensory memory he has of you. When he’s sharing living areas with his fellow soldiers, he sometimes contents himself with remembering the silk of your skin and the weight and texture of your muscles when he gives you a massage, or the sound and light pulsing of your heart when he lays his head on your chest. Most of the time though, he needs more. He can’t help it, he’s only a man. He’s real good at risking his life, at killing, at being a strategist, analyzing, at manipulating intel out of every person and item around him. He’s also a healthy young guy with a really hot girlfriend and very high libido. He needs the release so he doesn’t go insane again, so his aggressiveness won’t make him do something stupid when he’s out on the field, with dangerously high levels of testosterone thrumming through his blood and his brain reminding him of what you look like bent over. He’s always rough with himself, the way he usually is with you, because he doesn’t know of any other way to express his love for you. Other than to utterly ravage you and himself. He usually thinks of something absolutely depraved, like of being a deranged stalker slipping into your bedroom at night, while you’re sleeping naked and feeling all safe, unaware of the predator looking at you. His hand tugging at his cock faster as he imagines standing over you, pulling your covers down and kneeling over you so he can stare directly between your legs, jerking off on top of your dreaming body, until he comes all over your sex, your inner thighs, your lower belly. A terrifying gift for you to wake up to, so you know there’s a monster watching over you. It makes him so hard to think you’ll always have his claim on you.
Panty thief? maybe. Definitely has a scent kink, obsessive/possessive, slight stalker tendencies. Light somnophilia. Very into marking and soft restraints. Wants to know everything about you, all the time. Cannot get enough of hearing you whine and blabber “I love you” when he’s inside you, making you come. Feeling safe to be so utterly needed and worshipped by one he worships also. He knows he likes being in control. he also knows how grateful he is that you give yourself to him. Shibari makes sense then and it makes him go berserk. Nothing else exists in his big brain other than the ritual of tying you up, taking you both into this other space, and you, all bound and pretty, at his mercy, it makes him want to spoil you rotten, want to make you come until you pass out. His whole life, his day to day, his work is a continuum of violence and domination. He’s only ever getting more dangerous, endless potential where most men his age have already reached their prime. It feels sane/normal for him to be in command, to know exactly where he is going, to hurt and kill and destroy in favor of a larger objective. Or maybe the opposite when he actually saves someone. It’s just in his nature, and then he comes home to his partner and takes her as he should.
He has a preference for your place, because it smells and feels like you. Never in public.
He’s heavily touch-starved, touch-desperate, touch-ravenous. Sephiroth cannot get enough of your hands all over him, caressing his face, tangling in his hair, massaging his scalp, his neck, all over his chest, digging into his back, grabbing his ass, caressing his cock. Even just holding hands gets him going, or when you touch his forearm, trace his muscles and veins with your fingers, and he’s got a thing for you kissing his arm when you’re out in public. It makes him feel so wanted by you, helps him understand you truly do love him. Praise. You praising him. You begging for him. Him providing for you. “Sephi, I love you so much,” with tears running down your flushed face, followed by a little hiccup of pleasure, as he methodically ravages you. “You feel so good inside me, so big, perfect fit.” When you finger yourself open and make yourself take four of your dainty fingers in front of him, dripping wet, begging him that you’re ready, that you can take it, and it’s still a stretch when he fills you up. You telling him you need him, can’t live without him, need his cock, need his cum. Giving yourself to him. He loves protecting you, keeping you safe and sound. Making sure you have everything you need. He needs to be your reason for living, the one you want entirely. He needs you to take his love, take his cock, take his teeth on your neck and his hands all over you. Any show of intimacy gets him going, from you crying in his arms to falling asleep curled up next to him, showering together, whispering your deepest secrets. He also has a (barely) hidden wish to get you pregnant, make you fully his. I should’ve added that to kinks. Breeding kink.
Not a strict no at first, but he doesn’t really like being penetrated. He’s tried it and it just doesn’t do it quite right for him, though it does make him more considerate towards his partner he tops. A bit of spanking is okay in his book but he’d never want to take it further than that when it comes to violence. He’s rough, and strong, and big, and passionate, but he’d never hurt you for real. You feeling safe in his arms, being needy for his touch is what he craves.
Oral is a whole topic for Sephiroth. Its very own category of sex he could spend hours on. He loves eating pussy. He loves giving because it feels so intimate, so good, he wants you on his tongue with your thighs shaking and squeezing around his head. He loves to bite your inner thighs, to make you spread your legs wider. Loves to fuck his tongue inside you and feel you clench, feeling you dripping. Gently sucking on your clit until you go from tense and thrashing to soft and crying his name, begging him to stop, but he knows better, right? This pretty pussy belongs to him, and he’ll lick it for as long as he wants. And you sob out a “Yes, Seph..” that makes his cock throb. He adores making you sit on his face, ready to worship you like the little goddess you are. His offering to you white and sticky on his skin where he came untouched, just from the ecstasy of being surrounded by your body. He loves it as much as you love sucking his cock, taking him on your knees with your aching throat stuffed full. You’ve spent just as many hours licking his cock, the two of you training your mouth, your jaw, your throat to open up enough for him to slide deeper, and deeper, like you cannot get enough of him no matter how much it hurts. He learns you need it as much as he does, and as your dynamic progresses, he learns to use it as a way to center you and himself, to fulfill your mutual craving for obedience. When he comes home and tells you to get on your knees before he even kisses you, tells you to keep his cock warm while he’s reading through a debrief. He never knew there would be so much intimacy in fucking your pretty mouth, holding you down, coming down your throat as there is in licking you open, having his face all drenched in you, feeling every fold of your pussy on his tongue. He also really, really loves to 69.
Sephiroth naturally tends towards the rough and fast, but he learns to be soft, to be slow, to be gentle not only because he’s concerned about the stretch he imposes on your sweet cunt, but also because you teach him to explain his feelings without violence. It’s hard for him, but he tries, really hard. He’s especially good at going slow and soft when he’s already come once, or when you’re the more assertive one. He’ll usually be softer when you’re particularly fragile and vulnerable, broken down by whatever troubles your mind and the harshness of the world, to remind you that he’s here and always will be. He’ll protect you against everything but himself, and you can let go of everything else if you just hold onto him.
Penetration with no prep is difficult at best, impossible at worst, but he knows exactly how to take care of you when you suddenly get needy for him and he has no time. Gathers you in his arms, “Spread your legs for me.” and kisses you while his long fingers work you open, mercilessly hitting every single nerve inside you without the slow buildup you prefer, and it feels like electricity running through you, too much, too fast, too strong, and he pulls an orgasm out of you before you can get your bearings, putting you in this fuzzy headspace where he rules everything. Sephiroth loves you all out of sorts and fucked out like this, allowing him to take your body, and to take your mind into a place where you don’t need to think. “I need to leave soon, so you just need to open your pretty mouth and let me fuck your throat, can you do that?”
His life is molded around risk and danger. He never risks you, but sometimes the heat of battle, of absolutely dominating during a mission , of danger, it makes him hard, makes him see red, and if you were there, he would do things to you he would not be proud of in the morning.
It took months of continuous sex and of you repeating to him that you loved him and needed him, for his dick to finally occasionally get soft after his first orgasm. It’s better now, but he can still spend the night between your legs, overstimulating you both to tears, coming half a dozen times until he physically cannot get hard anymore, and you can’t even sit up.
Big fan of them. Especially since he loooooves overstimulating you.
He’s not that big of a tease, preferring to overstimulate you until you’re sobbing. He knows it hurts to not have anything inside you when you’re turned on, but it also hurts when he forces his cock inside you without any preparation. So he settles for shushing you, gathering you in his arms so he can make out with you while fingering you open, the delicious stretch of his fingers so satisfying. You writhe and moan and curl in his arms like a kitten in heat, and he kisses you endlessly, pressing his weight against you to pin you down, not giving in to your pleas for his dick just yet, “need to stretch you a little more, okay?”
Sephiroth is vocal for sure. His voice drops an octave when he’s turned on, he can’t help it. When he tells you dirty things it often ends in animalistic sounds, he’s a growler. He tries to muffle those sounds at first, afraid of scaring you, because you’re so pretty and sweet, you don’t deserve to get fucked by someone who can barely keep himself from sinking his teeth into your pretty throat. Then he understood that you like the gravel in his voice, and his breaths, his moans, his whines, his breathless little growls that rumble in his chest. He learns to be a little louder for you. Most of all, he learns how wet his voice makes you, and that his pet names, loving and degrading and praising you. It makes you go insane. He loves making you whine, cry out, and sob his name. Loves when he manages to break through your self consciousness until you forget everything but him and scream.
Can occasionally be submissive, usually when emotion is breaking him down, and your love is the only thing keeping him from drowning, the only light at the end of the tunnel. That usually means you overstimulating him like he does you, telling him you love him while kissing his forehead, and he whines and comes and comes and comes. Will send you dick pics, and videos of himself jerking off, especially when he’s away. He has a secret folder in his phone cause he just misses you. You make him hard even when you’re not there. He keeps a stash of slutty pictures of his love.
Sephiroth is big everywhere, and he knows it.
“F-fuck Seph, you’re so biiiig” makes his head spin, and when you add “it’s too big, I can’t take it” with wet eyes brimming with tears, looking up at him in adoration, he has no choice but to reply: “It’s not even halfway in, honey. I know you can take it, though, can’t you? Just trust me, baby, give yourself to me.” He shows you he can split you open without pain, bigger than anything you thought was possible for you, taking you to a place beyond ecstasy. It takes all of your focus each time, feels more like a religious experience than anything else, like receiving a god inside you. But for him you’ll do anything. Rearrange your body however he wants, loving him as intensely as he loves you.
Ready to go at a moment’s notice, ever eager for your touch, your kisses. Sephiroth is a frozen abyss of thought and feeling that never learned how to express anything other than what he needs to accomplish, specific objectives. There’s a presence inside him howling for love, bleeding for your attention. He’d like to have you every morning and every night. Have you preen under his caresses during the day, and allow him to do awful things to your body while you sleep. Trusting him like he’s some kind of knight instead of a wild animal.
Sephiroth has had trouble sleeping for years now, never really having a truly safe place to rest at night has messed with his brain. In your cozy little place though, in your plush bed, his body closest to the door, you curled up in his arms, he slowly learns to relax and let go of constant vigilance. Sex helps too, especially when he allows himself to use you until he’s come once, twice, sometimes thrice or more. Then after you’re both cleaned up, he wraps you up in his arms and kisses you until you both drift off. You usually wake up with his arms around your throat and face, pressing you fully against him, an iron embrace you’d have trouble breaking from if he didn’t wake up at the same time as you.
i hc sephiroth as a sub most of the time but i love picturing him this way too.
