cloud is very reserved when you first start dating him. he's a bit intimidated by a relationship, as he's worried he might not be good enough for you and that, if he messes up, he'll lose you again
he loves affection, but he's too awkward to make the first move. he never wants to overstep any boundaries, so he's usually just pouting and waiting for you to give him a kiss, hug or some sweet words
due to his insecurities at first, cloud has a bit of a jealous side. he doesn't like seeing you with other guys (unless he knows them well) and he usually just pouts and sulks when you're with other guys
however, he's very protective of you as well! with so many people after him and sephiroth being a huge threat, cloud can't risk putting you in danger! he wants to help you defend yourself a bit, but he always throws himself into danger whenever your safety is on the line
the longer you date cloud, the more he begins to open up to you and the more he becomes himself as well. you learn more about him and his past, while cloud grows more comfortable with who he is
slowly, he begins to get more affectionate and loving. he'll still tremble when grabbing your hand for the first time, but with each subsequent time, the trembling becomes less and less, until it feels perfectly natural for him to make the first move and show you his love
you start to see cloud smile more often around you as well. first it's a small smile hushing over his lips here and there, but over time, he seems to be genuinely happy and content around you! he's at peace when you're near…
warnings: dom reader/sub character, honeymoon fucking, porn with plot, angst, old people fluff, emotionally stunted vincent my beloved, blowjob, deepthroating, praise, body worship, handjob, alcohol and cigarette consumption, mentions of past failed relationships & slight body horror, drunk sex, reader is around vincent’s age and was a former SOLDIER, not exactly married, just two dumbasses playing around their feelings so sort of an accidental confession?
w.c: 3.5k
notes: this was actually supposed to be with barret but then my favoritism won. im sorry yall😔
“are you two married or something?”
the question popped up out of nowhere and the way aerith just dropped the question, paired with a cute smug face, was not helping the situation at all. the young woman seemed ready to dive into your personal life and learn all about the 30 years of long history between you both, eagerly awaiting an answer while tifa sighed and shook her head in the background.
when vincent first joined avalanche with a personal grudge in mind, he was the most silent person around besides him. sitting at the far back, in the corners, hiding away whenever he could and only holding a conversation with barely handful of words used. and yet when you decided to tag along for “the shits and giggles” as you said, vincent had been more… social.
mostly with you or cid, but the fact vincent valentine started to hold conversations more, not linger in the background and even actively stay in the main room to share drinks together after an ass-kicking was undeniably present. the broody man seemed to just hover around you, perpetually hunched hunk of a mass lingering near you like a shadow, always ending up reminiscing of your old days of working for shinra.
it was a surprise to the team to find out you were once a soldier for shinra around the same time vincent was a turk. someone who was as wild, carefree and rebellious like you bending to the will of a greedy corporation just felt… out of character. peculiar. unlikely. but the faded black and white photo you pulled out from your wallet proved it. you and vincent, side by side, much younger and softer without the cold glare life had planted in your eyes and certainly breaking the rules by not wearing the standard issued uniform.
either way, the second most silent member of avalanche had noticed something else on the two of your persons. a red piece of cloth — eerily similar to the material and color of vincent’s bandana — wrapped around the handle of your ōdachi style sword, and three headed dog keychain jingling from the butt of vincent’s gun.
the red cloth around your weapon handle, that could be explained by the simple “you being you” and your love for eccentric, popping bright colors. but the keychain on vincent was one that was hard to explain. the man was as dead as a corpse rotting away at the nearest hole in the earth and perhaps even as cold as one, if not colder, yet here he was donning a charm on the end of his threatening weapon, letting the weirdly cute thing jingle around whenever he whipped the weapon out to twirl it in the air with a dramatic flourish before firing with a loud BANG!.
there were just small pieces of you two on each other so much to the point that a drunk cid had accidentally mistaken one of you for the other at the bar. not so surprising considering the both of you enjoyed wearing a seemingly matching shades of red, long outer wears. something aerith and cait sith cooed out about it being ‘old couple cutesy-dudesy’. words vincent grunts loudly at while you merely grin and play along, goading the younger ones into believing you could very much potentially be an item and not just some old work buddies. the younger ones eat it up every time.
standing atop the roof of the chocobo farm, you enjoy your privacy as the thin cigarette in your hold warms your cold fingers. the sky was clear this night, indicating a good clear, sunny day all day tomorrow. it would be a good day to head out in your opinion. to make way towards the next town. even with the door leading to the stairs that took you down to the second and first floors of the farm house was closed shut, you could hear some of the music blasting, the loud cheers and calls for singing along to the party song. they sure as hell had a lot of stamina when it came to partying, you have realized. something good ol’ vinnie and you can’t exactly seem to keep up with now that you were both pushing your 60s.
“i thought i told you to drop that bad habit of yours” the low timbre of vincent’s voice scared you for a moment, making you jolt where you had been leaning against the rails.
”by the dead, make some noises when you’re creeping around next time, will you? nearly made me drop my cigarette and start a fire” you complained under your breath, leaning back away from the railings so at least you won’t be dropping the lit ciggy to the grass. the fright left quickly, replaced by some anxiousness and the need to defend yourself filling its spot as vincent raised a brow at you, staring at the cancer stick in your hold and to your face. there was slight pink on your cheeks — either from the alcohol you’ve chugged earlier when competing against barret or from the chill winds, he doesn’t know — a pink that he uncharacteristically found endearing.
”a whole decade of scolding your ears off about your stupid habits and yet you still have yet to let it go. are you really this dumb or should i scold you for a few more decades as well?” the former turk grumbled, clearly disappointed to see you with a lit cigarette in hand. and yet he reached out all the same, taking the stick from your loose hold to take a slow inhale himself. the warm orange glow lit his face in warm colors, giving more eerie colors to the lone red glow of his right eye. but the effects of hojo’s doings or chaos being infused into his body never scared you. in fact, you liked him even more with the eerie eye glows and uncontrollable growls and rare purrs.
”you say that yet look at you, doing the same mistakes as me” huffing at the unfairness he brought to you, you wait as he puffs out the smoke in one slow exhale, taking the cigarette away from you when you held out a hand expectantly. his refusal to hand you your cigarette back left you huffing at him, the petulant look on your face making vincent grin as he dodges your attempts to take the tobacco back. sooner or later, you would start ranting about the unfairness of his long limbs and stealing things that were not his.
4, 3, 2 —
“vinnie, i swear by gaia” ah, there it was. that little grumble of a ’threat’ you give him before full on out throwing your body at him to get back whatever it may be that you had lost to him.
”you’re going to ask for your cigarette back, and if i say ‘no’ — which we both know that i will — you’ll throw yourself at me?” and there it was again, that little twitch in your brows and the way you run your tongue over your fangs in hopes of holding back your words. he had you all figured out, after all. a whole 30 years had passed since you went your separate ways and yet you still act the same way. nothing about you had changed except for the few strands of grey from stress of shinra and having to deal with the young ones at avalanche now, and the smile lines around your eyes and lips.
you had already gotten grey hairs and yet he wasn’t around to witness them, vincent realized, feeling a sense of failure at the way he had just seemingly left you out of nowhere to deal with life and shinra all alone by yourself. what good was there to him in the first place? first failing to keep lucrecia safe, then failing to keep her son safe and now failing you. he always failed those closest to him, didn’t he? choosing to run and hide away because he was dealing with some shit, forgetting that those around him were dealing with their own demons too.
such a failure—
“vincent” blinking, shaking his head to clear out his thoughts at least for this night, the lone glow of his eye turned to look at you. you had your cigarette back in hand, but the tobacco roll seemed to be the least of your worries as you stood by his side, holding him by the arm as if to stabilize him. or had you heard his inner turmoil? that would be embarrassing. you were already dealing with the drawback symptoms of mako injections and yet his selfish idiocy would force you to look after him as well. no, this time, he’ll be the one to look after you. this time, you can lay your head on him and rest.
gloved hand grasping at your bare one, his bigger hand wrapped like a protective embrace around the scarred and marred one of yours. burnt from years of handling lighters and zippos, scarred from the decades of serving under shinra, left calloused from the countless battles. squeezing your hand as if to convince himself, vincent took his time to drink in your visage.
ah, how much you had changed and yet how so little as well.
there was a certain heaviness in your gait now, a droop to your shoulders that did not fit someone as bright and confident as you, and shadows that seemed to cling even with the full moon shining down just for you. you have changed, but vincent wanted to be by your side all the same.
”i’m fine, [name]” grumbling low at the back of his throat, the former turk’s gaze never leave the sight of you in all your current glory, taking his time to stare at every stress lines, every laugh lines, every strand of hair that was on the process of going grey greedily for he had not seen you for the past near 30 years. and he had remembered with a sudden start that yes, he had missed you. he had missed his closest friend, his companion, the only one who had been the one constant in his life.
vincent valentine had missed his [name].
”just… reminiscing” another squeeze to your hand, but this time, you returned his shy touches back at him, holding his hand tighter in your hold as if he would leave you again, just like that day 30 years ago.
”mmh.. either way, i’m glad to have you back here with me, vinnie”
”…i’m glad to be back by your side too, [name]”
“you know that you don’t have to do this unless you really want to, right? i wouldn’t want you growing uncomfortable around me just because we’re a little tipsy and ditzy right now”
“i know that, [name]” vincent muttered against your lips when you pulled back just enough to make sure for the nth time that he was okay with doing this, chasing afterwards to silence your charming drunk rambles. you would have never guessed how touch starved your idiot was until now, with him climbing up to straddle your lap, the golden claws of his gauntlet leaving bits and pieces of tears in your shirt, right where they fisted at the collar of your clothes.
”i’m just…” mumbling against your lips, the chapped lips of his stole a few more kisses before reluctantly puling away from your lips, looking down at himself where the clasps of his cloak had been undone to give you more skin to gnaw at. fingering one of the many buckles that held the leather skin tight around himself, vincent hesitates about what to do or say to you.
of course, you had already seen the horrors hojo had left behind on his skin; the healed autopsy scar with its thick stitches and bunched up flesh, inner elbow of his where the old scars of hundreds or so needles had pierced to keep him tethering to life while his body is cut open again and again to force chaos and protomateria inside him. you held no qualms about the scars he carried, saying that you had your own scars too and all didn’t matter in the end because vincent was still vincent to you. scars and all.
but, he still felt a sense of reluctance when it came to taking the leather off. something about baring himself whole to you again, in such a vulnerable state, made him feel… something. anger at having shown you marks of his weakest moments? shame for letting your sharp mind realize that he is still yet to come to accept the changes chaos made to his body? embarrassed because he was so desperate to feel your touch on him?
vision spinning and rolling around, vincent didn’t realize his bigger physique had been successfully flipped around so that he would be the one to lie on his back atop the soft cushions of your room until he saw your stupid grinning face shining down on him. ah, he had let down his guard again, and you had taken the chance to make a fool out of him. but if this happens every time only when he is with you, vincent held no complaints.
”how about we take it one step at a time, v? let me take the lead this time and we’ll figure out what you like, yeah?” leaning over him, you pepper kisses on his flushed cheeks, making chaos rumble deep in his chest like an overgrown spoiled cat under your care.
humming instead and telling chaos to shut up in his consciousness, vincent helps you takeoff his pants when your finger tugged at its hem. lifting up his hips, allowing you to take off the leather clothing, followed by his boxers that had an embarrassing small spot of wetness on the front, valentine hid his face behind his hands at the look on your face. one filled with so much love and tenderness, it made his stomach grow warm and mind grow dazed. he couldn’t bring himself to look down at you, not when you were peppering old gun shot wounds on his thighs with such care.
“you’re so pretty, vinnie. it makes me jealous sometimes, looking at your gorgeous figure and handsome face” mumbling words against his skin, dragging your lips over the new and old wounds, there was heat on his cheeks and ears. he knew he was flushing red like some idiot, swayed by some few words that you whispered against his flesh as if carving your convictions of his beauty into his soul.
”don’t—“ breath hitching, the former turk curses himself out in his mind at how whiny his words came out just now. you were a disease to him, did you knew that? even worse than chaos or the materia in him, like some tiny sentient liquid of poison that traveled into his heart whenever you wanted.
”don’t say useless things like that” swallowing down the moan that threatened to escape, vincent fists his hands into his hair, hoping the tugging pain into his scalp would distract him from the shameful feeling of his cock slowly twitching to life.
”but i’m being genuine here, vincent. you’re beautiful to me and i appreciate every moment we’ve spent together. and i would never regret anything that is between us” trailing kisses down his rising and falling stomach, he could feel you paying closer attention to the end of the autopsy scar there before turning to kiss the tip of his cock. the embarrassment he felt could be enough to kill him at this point, and vincent low-key wished it would choke him to his early grave right here and now.
”i will never regret you”
a sharp gasp tears through the tortured man’s mouth, letting go of his hold on his hair to look down at you between his legs, mouth swallowing his now hard cock slowly, inch by inch until he could feel his own tip nudging your throat all the way inside. choking on his saliva, vincent wanted to push your head off of himself. too tight, too warm, vincent was sure he was losing his mind and that his cock was melting into a puddy in your throat if it hadn’t been for the small outline he could see through your hollowed out cheeks.
”d-don’t! speak with your mouth full you-oughh.. mmhg ffffuck—!” throwing his head back, the soft bounce of the mattress made his head swim. paired with how you hummed around his dick, making his legs twitch violently, vincent was already growing short on breath as he panted like a dog. the choked out groans and the occasional breathy whimper that left him didn’t sound like him at all. vincent sounded like a stranger to his own ears.
“nnngh.. ha-aaagh [n-name], sloouwwh.. slow down a-a bit..♡︎~” whimpering, he hadn’t even realized that he was letting out the most pathetic sounds of his life when your hand patted against his own, lacing your fingers together. he could only choke on his noises, briefly raising his head up to look down at where you had gotten yourself so comfortable between his thighs. that soft look in your eyes while you damn near milked his soul dry made his ears burn up again, hiding behind his free arm just as quickly as he had peered up to stare at you.
vincent can’t bring himself to look again, in fear that it would be the last push, making his already weak will against you crumble entirely and cum down your throat. in shame, the old friend of yours tries to hold himself back as much as he could. stomach rising and falling in quick repetitions, the hand you’ve laced together squeezing around your fingers tightly, tugging and legs jerking in threat of closing around your head. a strange tasting pre dripped down your mouth, leaving behind trails of himself inside you already. had he known he was already breaking in your hold, you’re sure your idiot of an old co-worker would have made a sweet noise that did not fit his image.
trying to speak his name, to try and comfort him that it was okay to lose himself, you caress the inside of his thigh with your free hand. the constant vibrations your mouthful of talking made around his cock was the last straw. pulling his leg away, feeling himself sweat under his leather top, the red eyed man choked on his own moan when he felt his tip nudge against your throat, spilling himself down your mouth with a weak, pitiful whine that could be mistaken as your name.
perhaps it had something to do with him not longer being a human, but when the former turk came, he spilled a good amount of load. enough to make you pull away without being able to swallow all of them. cooing out some words of encouragement, your tight fist strokes him through his high, making his legs shake under the sudden strain.
”e-enouughh.. [n-name], that aagh hagh.. that’s enough..” pawing weakly at your wrist, you hum at his words before eventually letting goof your grip around his softening dick that spurted out the last few drops of his cum.
”feel better?” you ask him quietly, lying down on top of him with your full weight, knowing that he liked the heaviness that helps to ground his mind to reality. vincent’s breath was still jittery, yet to truly come down from his orgasm high. until he does, you decide to just wait for him, peppering more kisses on the small slip of skin where his top clasp that was undone.
”..y-yeah… uuhmg. all go-ood”
“has everyone packed everything? we will not be coming back if one of you forgot something behind, y’all know that right? gasoline is expensive around these parts” cid does his own little version of a roll call, standing on the top of the stairs that led to the inside of his aircraft.
some of the group called back out full of energy, some merely grunted groggily, their last night party hangover still yet to leave. some dug through their bags, mumbling under their breaths about making sure everything was indeed packed. you were of the last group, brows furrowed as you felt that empty feeling in your head that just screamed you forgot something. whatever it may be.
”uhhh, i think i might be missing something. let me just check my room real qui—“
”your gloves” vincent called out from behind you, the pair of old, worn out leather pair in his own gloved hand that he held out for you. ah, you probably left it behind while packing your things in your early morning haze. the leftover alcohol in your system clearly didn’t help.
”ah, right. sorry” holding your hand up, you feel the slight weight it gives as vincent places it in your grasp, his hand wrapping your fist around them and lingering for a moment bit too longer.
”if you leave it again, i’ll find them for you” the glow in his eye seemed to burn just a bit brighter when he said his promise, gloved hand pulling away from yours with the warmth left wrapped behind yours still.
and you made sure to glare at a few of the younglings who snickered at the background.
Tags: fluff, kissing, public display of affection, cuddles, being protective, hand-holding, dates
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions
A/N: Trying to branch out a bit with my Final Fantasy writings. Tell he how it is!
Cloud sees you as his everything, his reason for fighting, his reason for coming home, his reason for trying to hard. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for your happiness, no matter how small or grand it may be. He shows you affection any time he can. Every night you're in bed together, cuddling, he makes sure you never go to sleep without him telling you how much you mean to him.
Sephiroth never wants you to feel alone even when you are alone. He wants you to know he is constantly thinking of you, no matter where he is or what state of mind he is in. When you're together there is no getting away from kissing him or getting your hand away from his. It's not just a display of affection for him, it's about showing to everyone that you are off the dating market because he is your boyfriend.
Zack wants to spend as much time with you as possible, which includes dates that go on for the whole day. If he can't take at least one day to dedicate it to you then he has to be doing something wrong, at least in his view. While you're out together he will tell you, as many times as he can that he loves you. Makes sure to take pictures of every date you go on.
Angeal is the perfect gentleman to you whenever you're together, alone or in the company of others. He's always kissing your hand, kissing your cheek, making sure you're comfortable above all else and that you're having fun. Rarely lets go of your hand or goes too long without praising you. Loves spoiling you when he can, even if it's just small gifts for you to put around the house.
Reno claims he's not in love with you when he is in fact head over heels in love with you. He pouts and mumbles to himself about how soft you are when you kiss his cheek or hug him all the time when you're in public. That will earn you more than a few stern looks but he also won't push you away, secretly he loves it. When you're alone he will return all that affection and so much more.
Hi!!!! I was wondering what you think ffvii men would be like before reader and them got into a relationship? Like, how would they act around reader if they had a crush on them and just couldn't find the time somehow to express their feelings to themヾ(≧▽≦*)o?
Thank you for reading!<33
⋆˚꩜｡ cloud strife . . . at the realization of his feelings for you, will become the most awkward guy on the planet. honestly, it’s a little frustrating — and whether it’s more frustrating for him or you is unclear. you have half a mind to think that he’s avoiding you because he hates you, and meanwhile he’s just trying to find a way to suppress the ache in his chest whenever he sees you :( .
to see you is a blessing and a curse, he thinks. he wishes he could just quit the crap and tell you rather than having to endure sweaty palms and the constant itch pricking at the back of his neck.
but once he’s actually in front of you to tell you about it, he’s stunned. at a bat of your lashes and a quick smile thrown his way, it feels like molasses dripping inside his chest and clogging up his heart. by the time you call his name again and ask what he’d been meaning to tell you, he honestly can’t remember.
make no mistake, cloud is sooo whipped .. it’s almost comical. tifa and aerith giggle at him from behind the counter as they see the way he’s trying to chat you up.
a small laugh bubbles past tifa’s lips. “smooth, cloud,” she teases. “very smooth.”
he makes a small choked noise, looking back at her. she grins slyly at him. with that, he scoffs with a furrowed brow. “c’mon, we have work to do.”
even after you get together, he’ll never tell you but sometimes, he’ll lay awake and think of you. eyes piercing through the darkness, he can almost piece together your visage in his mind. the words are choked on his tongue, but he’d rather grieve than be without you.
zack fair . . . is a sweetheart through and through, whether he likes you or not. same with cloud but on the opposite side of the spectrum, you might never know if he likes you or not unless he tells you himself. zack’s a very “yolo” guy! he thinks that if he likes you this much and he has a feeling you like him back, why not go for it?
he takes the time to talk with you about your interests and to get to know you. if you reciprocate, he’s got absolute heart eyes for you and he has half of a mind to tell you how he feels right then and there.
he’s not nicknamed ‘zack the puppy’ for no reason. even before he realizes he’s got it bad for you, he’ll be following you around everywhere. his chin hovering around your shoulder when doing something, walking alongside you to go to the market, ringing your cell when he’s off training to see if you wanna hang out. any chance he has with you, he takes it.
“is today a good time?” you hear zack ask through the muffled screen of your phone. you had both wanted to check a store out downtown and he decided to ask if you wanted to go as soon as he was free.
a smile paves its way onto your face. “perfect,” you say, tone sweet and dripping. you can practically hear the way zack’s lips curl into that familiar, boyish smile you always know him to wear once he parrots, “perfect.”
he is nothing if not the prime example of a lover boy. sighing and clutching his chest as a cartoonish thought bubble appears with rose tinted images of you.
sephiroth . . . is much more poised and probably the least obvious about his crush on you overall.
he’s often very quiet and observant when it comes to you — spotting you from across rooms, watching the way you talk to people. when he does talk to you, he’s always very cool and collected, maybe even a little teasing sometimes with his clever remarks.
beneath his exterior, if you really look closely enough when he’s caught off guard, you can see the way his eyes soften at the mention of you. he seems to smile a little more and a little longer, a small and catlike simper appearing when he sees you coming up to him. nonetheless, he doesn’t treat you that much different. if youre associated with shinra or being a SOLDIER, he won’t take it easy on you while training.
you huff, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as you put a hand on your hip, the simulation dissipating around you two. “you,” you swallow. “you really don’t let up, huh?”
his eyes narrow with his half-smile, slit pupils dilating against azure irises. “why would i?” he purrs. his voice is practically like velvet against skin. “you’re more than capable?”
his way of showing it is odd and quite esoteric but he means well. he knows it’s not exactly obvious, but it buys him time into thinking about when he’ll tell you. when he does, it’ll most likely be random and you may not ever see it but it’s nonetheless genuine and heartfelt.
genesis rhapsodos . . . is quite mysterious about it too, although in a more verbal way. he seems to snake his way into interacting with you or your environment like sephiroth does except he actually talks to you.
he might be a bit of an attention whore .. teasing and bickering with you to get a reaction just so you’d pay him some mind. other than that though, he can be quite a romantic. you’re not sure whether he’s serious or not with the way he recites epics to everybody, but it seems like he picks and chooses which poems to read aloud to you. for you.
“.. for you are beloved by the goddess. hero of the dawn, healer of worlds,” you hear genesis finish act ii of loveless, his voice thick to your ear. his eyes back flicker up to you as he closes the small book with a satisfying clap in the palm of his hand, long lashes splayed.
you smile sweetly. “that’s a nice one,” you tell him.
he exhales sharply and his lips curve into something a little more sincere. more real. “yes,” he says. “i suppose it is.”
deep down, he loves you way more than he’d care to admit. he knew that the moment he met you — and in his own way, he’ll try to show it the best he can. he’d give you the whole world if he truly could. but in the end, he’s only a man sickly in love.
angeal hewley . . . believes he doesn’t treat you different compared to how he first did when he met you, but in a way he does. softened around the edges, checking up on you just barely more than he would with others.
angeal’s oftentimes generous and observant just like his two friends. he’ll make sure you’ve eaten if you seem sluggish and always asks how you’re doing.
he’s not as serious with you, especially if you’re more relaxed. you might even be able to get him to crack a smile at your antics or comments if you try hard enough.
“did you see that?!” you asked, practically with stars in your eyes.
the corner of his mouth lifts mirthfully as he takes note of your excitement. he shakes his head fondly, determined not to let it show too much. “that’s enough,” he manages. “come along now, we have work to do.”
angeal’s a sweetheart and he’d be forever grateful if you did choose him. he tries not to let his feelings show but when you see how they try to take ahold of him, you do him the honor of asking him out much to his surprise. his reaction will forever be worth it and so is the moment your lips meet his.
H h heloooo I was simply wondering if you could write a headcanon about Cloud where he lwk yearns for the reader >\\\<!!
Yearning!
𝔄/𝔑: My first Final Fantasy rq! I love this game so much and I love Colud too!! Hope I did him some justice with this post! (๑>•̀๑)
𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰: Yearning!Cloud x Gn!reader
𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: insane amounts of yearning
✮Cloud knew from the moment he felt something warm in his chest that you were different, he was never good with words, so he always watched from a distance; didn’t want to scare you off of course! Not because he knew that he would start stuttering and the calm and collected SOLDIER façade would fall… not at all!
✮At some point he just accepts that he will always feel like this around you, like a boy finding out what love is for the first time… even if it’s been months of longing looks across the room. Eventually, in due time, he starts talking to you more.
✮Everyone around you always has something to say when you two done talking, something along the lines of “man he isn’t even trying to hide it!” and “the way he looks at you is something I envy”… huh wonder what that means!
✮It always makes you concerned when people talk about Cloud to you, they always say he’s more on the silent side, calm and seems indifferent to things happening around him; which is odd considering that when you speak to Cloud he always seems nervous in small ways, like the way he keeps wiping his hands and only making eye contact with you for short moments before looking away with a slight tint of pink on his ears, that’s normal right?
✮Cloud feels like he can’t think about anything other than you, even when he’s speaking to other people he’s thinking about you… what would you say? What would you do in this situation? He’s only snapped out of his lovesick trance when the person he’s talking to realizes Cloud isn’t listening to a thing that they’re saying, how rude.
✮Whenever he sees something you might like or something that reminds him of you he gets all flustered, c’mon Cloud it’s just a song! No need to be sucha’ sap… He will buy these things for you, best believe he’s gonna hold it out to you and attempt to play it off as something he just bought on a whim… Cloud this is the third trinket this week, you’re getting a bit obvious now!
✮He feels embarrassed when he thinks about you at night, even if he tries to think about anything else his mind runs back to you. When will he see you again, is it tomorrow? Just thinking about it makes him feel all giddy, which is odd considering he has a reputation for being hard to read.
✮Cloud hopes you don’t see the small slip ups he makes around you, stuttering over words he shouldn’t be. And the way he looks at you, he’s sure you can just feel the absolute restraint he has around you; his eyes seem softer around you, like you’re something he’s been looking forward to, something he doesn’t want to scare away, something he wants to cherish.
✮And when Cloud finally tells you how he feels, how you’re the one thing he can rely on, how your someone he genuinely trusts, he feels like a weight has been lifted off of him; like someone let him breath again after not knowing he was even drowning himself, seems like that person was you. Oh how grateful (and pink) he was when you told him the feeling was mutual, he’ll never forget the day you graced him with a kiss, there’s just no way you weren’t made for him!
I adore sephiroth x readers where he thinks he’s lost the reader like he thinks they’re dead for a sec and then they show up and he’s just all clingy and relieved. Or he has a nightmare that they’re dead in his arms and wakes up and they’re alive. I can’t find a lot of those kinds of Sephiroth fics and I think its absolutely criminal.
sephiroth x gn!reader
warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of blood
ooo anon i adore these types of fics too! i hope i was able to provide and help towards this injustice for these type of fics hehe thank you so much for requesting, i really hope you enjoy it<3
“sephiroth..”
he looks around for the two voices calling his name, each one familiar and bringing about very different and distinct feelings, but there’s nothing around him that he recognizes and neither you nor hojo are anywhere to be seen despite both of you sounding so close. something that puts sephiroth on edge as is, never wanting the professor to be anywhere near you if he could help it.
surrounding him lies only walls of dark petrified ice that keeps the world in a frozen stasis, the deepest glacier blues sparkling with the same mako of his eyes. the cold doesn’t bite at his skin but he knows it’s there by the clouds his shallow breaths make. masamune feels light, ready, in his left hand, awaiting her wielder's command. above him is what looks like a starless night sky and is seemingly just as endless in its depth but it feels as though as encased with no way out.
utterly alone he stands in the middle of it all, searching for who he loves and who he loathes.
“sephiroth!”
it’s only you he hears this time and at the sound of your distraught voice crying out for him in a way he’s never heard from you before, full of pain and pleading, he’s quickly on his feet to turn in the direction it came from only to be met with a sight specially crafted for his nightmares and that his own hands would make worse still.
with tears rolling down your cheeks and blood dripping from a cut on your cheek, you’re on your knees an arms length away from him, struggling through every breath, but not taking your gaze off of him. the way you draw your brows together and the deep frown to your lips might have made anyone think you were angry, and perhaps you are, but the anguish behind your eyes is undeniable. deep enough he feels it in his own chest.
“you have to stop this! please! ” you beg of him, your beautiful eyes trembling with more tears than before.
he wants to sooth you, take you into his arms and promise you that everything is okay, that you’re safe when he’s here to protect you, but he can’t move. it's as though his body isn’t his own, every command he tries to give it to bring him closer to you or say anything unwilling to obey.
sephiroth can only watch as crystalline tears freeze upon touching the icy ground at your knees and when droplets of your blood join them, his head starts to hurt, an aching pressure behind his eyes that he’s felt many times before and conjures images of raging flames and a pool of blood he knows is yours.
when he’s able to open his eyes again, there’s a split second of relief that he feels when he sees you still in front of him before it’s replaced with an emotion he couldn’t put a single name to. he only knows that his very soul is being ripped in two and set a blaze at the sight of blood dripping from your mouth and masamune sinking into your chest, his bare hands driving the blade deeper into you. your pleas quickly turning into a cry of pain that rings in his ears, unrelenting and heart breaking. through masamunes hilt he can feel the way it breaks through your bones and cuts the soft petaled flesh he’s kissed countless times. deeper his blade goes, effectively skewering through you all while his muscles scream out in agony as they’re pulled each way in his attempt to stop himself.
he has to stop - he can’t - he won’t - but inevitably it means nothing.
you’re so close he can taste the metaliciness of your blood in the air, can feel your fleeting warmth kissing his chilled skin and the weight of your body growing heavier on his sword. sephiroth can only stare helplessly at the way you bleed and grasp onto your life. behind him, echoing along the icy crystals, is hojos amused laugh. the same one he often used watching sephiroth hurt just as the professor had warned him he would if he didn’t his warnings.
“i told you,” hojo says, his prideful smile painted in his words telling of just how much he’s enjoying being right. “there was never any chance of saving them from you.”
hojo says more but sephiroth can’t hear him through the rapid drumming of his heartbeat in his ears as your trembling hand reaches out for him, your other being used as leverage to help bring you further down masamunes long blade, closer to him.
at the touch of your fingers grazing along his cheek, covered in blood and losing heat so quickly, whatever had hold over his body gives enough way that he doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of in order to reach for you in return but as soon as his hand is on your arm, trying to pull you into him, the aching in his head surges tenfold.
without letting go of you, his vision blurs, the entire world vibrates violently, but rather than seeing any of the mirage of images he had before, it’s only you that distorts between how you had looked mere moments ago to your skin turning different shades of splotched gray and deep purple veins spread everywhere; your head hung lower as you fight for life viruses the tender expression that’s worn by your visage but isn’t truly yours. not like he knows it to be.
each shot of pressure behind his eyes makes you blur back and forth but your words ring clear and soft, kinder than he ever deserved and with all the love you hold for him. “it’s okay seph. as long as you’ll get to be with j -”
the touch of your forehead to his chest feels more like the entire planet of gaia is crashing into his rib cage and makes him take in an unsteady gasp for air that burns his lungs as though it was his first breath ever -
sephiroth is forced awake, the discomfort in his chest mirroring how it was in what he knows was a nightmare. he’s had so many before, for as long as he can remember, but it had not made it easier to swallow the effects they had on him; the way it could blur reality and dreams even after waking.
surely that was why he could still feel the cold of that frozen place and the thickness of blood on his hands despite being half covered by the duvet and the pale skin of his hands looking completely clean as he sits up and stares down at them like they had truly taken the life of the person he cherishes the most. he could still feel it all, down to the way he felt masamune - a very extension of himself - cutting through you without mercy and the ringing in his ears that mingled with your resounding sobs.
everything only seems to grow worse when, like a child afraid to wake their mother in the middle of the night, he wordlessly reaches out for you and is met with a cold, empty, place where your body should have been curled up next to him. and when sephiroth sees he is utterly alone, the world seems to move painfully slow. gravity growing heavier and making it more difficult to shift onto his knees and for his hands to clutch at the sheets on your side of the bed as if searching for an ounce of your warmth, any reminder of your presence, within the threads.
but there's nothing. no warmth, no comfort, no you and the longer he tries to find you there, the more it feels as though the entire planet is devoid of your love and light. all because of him and before he knows it, he’s dragged further into darkness.
his hands are shaking, his breathing painfully ragged and his chest aching with a crushing pressure. he’s endured much discomfort before but nothing like this. nothing like the agony of being without you after finally letting himself have you. not after swearing to protect you with his very life.
silver strands of hair stick to his sweat beaded skin and catch in his blurry vision with every heavy blink of his eyes that sephiroth swears are deceiving him. they must be when he can feel your blood on him despite not being able to see it. it’s there, he knows it is, staining his soul, flooding his lungs, sitting heavy on his heart. ready to break him.
he finds comfort in the sweet cruelness of his own mind when it betrays him further and makes him see your hands reaching for him in the dark. he expects them to go right through him before they’re gone once more, nothing more than a ghost of a touch he hadn’t deserved in the first place, that his own hands had snuffed out, but no - he feels the warmth of your fingers, the unreal softness of your skin, that travel down his palms, the benevolence of your touch that always seemed accompany the way you handled him, washing away the sticky feeling of blood he thought might never leave, and sees them wrap around his wrists as if to tether him to this world. to you.
“sephiroth..”
it’s not the only time you’ve called out to him since reentering the bedroom and finding him on his knees, hunched over, the broad expanse of his back rising and falling with quick, uneven, breaths and clinging to the sheets on your side of the bed like they were a life line but with the way he looks up at you now, mako eyes seemingly glowing in the dark, pulsing with a mix of torment and realization, you think he’s finally heard your voice.
“love, what’s wr-” you don’t get the chance to finish before his arms are around you and you’re being pulled onto the bed, into his embrace, in a dizzying display of his strength and gentleness. but it’s easy to find your bearings when you’re quickly pressed flushed to his chest and your legs settle on either side of his like this is exactly where you belonged.
he’s burning up, hotter than he normally runs, barely breathing and trembling all over. the parts of his skin that touch your own damp with cold sweat but you don’t let it stop you from wrapping your arms around his neck, maneuvering under his hair, and pulling him as close to you as possible.
sephiroth whispers your name, broken and wavering and followed by his arms around you growing tighter, nearly crushing but it doesn’t hurt and you only encourage it more when you return it in kind, bringing one of your hands to hold the back of his head and keep him pressed, hidden from the world, in the crook of your neck.
“i’m here,” you promise and wonder if perhaps it’s exactly what he needed to hear when his hands bunch up the fabric of your shirt - one of his old training shirts you’ve confiscated as your own.
the thundering of his heartbeat can be felt throughout your whole body and you hold him like he’s something precious. as gentle as thin glass and as close to your heart as a cherished locket. your voice is a mirror of your emotions and meant to sooth him, remind him that he’s as safe in your arms as you are in his. “it’s okay seph. i’ve got you.”
he doesn’t speak or say anything but he doesn’t need to. you know by the way he holds you like you may slip through his grasp, like maybe this isn’t real, that he’s had a nightmare. one of so many you’ve been around to see him have, but this is also different than anytime before. he must have seen something truly horrible and it breaks your heart, brings unshed tears to your eyes.
your body had picked the wrong night to be so restless. you thought you were doing him a favor by slipping out of bed and waiting for tiredness to wash over you in the living room before returning to where you normally slept curled against him. he’d fallen asleep so quickly, needed the rest, and the last thing you wanted was to disrupt that but you’d have stayed if you knew what was going on behind his closed eyes.
he’d be vehemently against it, you know he would, but you’d have happily taken all of his bad dreams and dreamt them yourself if you could.
wordlessly you hold each other for an amount of time you don’t care to count. you’d stay here till the sun rose and fell again so long as he needed it. as time ticks by, slowly but surely, his heartbeat steadies, falls in line with your own, and each deep breath he takes that’s so full of you helps to relax the muscles of his body. your fingers run through his silken hair, careful in the way they untangle little knots that are proof of his fitful sleep and provide a comfort he isn’t sure he deserves. sephiroth has never been sure he’s deserved you but that would never make him let you go. especially tonight when his mind continues to echo hojos words, ‘there was never any chance of saving them from you.’
despite the calmness that has washed over him in lulling waves, his hold is unrelenting, unwilling to let you go, a silent vow that he’d never let anything happen to you. nothing and no one, not even himself, could harm you. he’d use every single ounce of his power and strength to ensure that. anything could happen to him so long as you were safe.
you’d never be as strong as he is, never know the other worldly power he holds and is forced to use for the sake of those who use him, but that would never stop you from feeling and doing everything to keep him safe too. many times it has made you wish you were stronger but at times so little do you understand that all you do for him, the way you protect him, has nothing to do with strength. the love and care you have for him, that you show him every day, is more powerful than any physical prowess. and right now, as you continue to hold him, love him, he thinks it to be more true than ever.
when he finally moves, neither of you being able to bear letting the other go far, it’s just enough so he can look into your eyes, remind himself that what he saw in his dreams was truly only a dream.
just a dream. he repeats to himself as he stares at you and brings a hand up to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. as you lean into his palm, the smile you give him is both calming and radiant and proof that there’s no trace of how you were in his nightmare. no blood, no tears, no pain, no discolor of greys and purple to your skin. you’re beautiful. very much alive. his.
“everything’s okay,” you whisper, as if you could read on his face what was running through his mind. “what you saw in your dream wasn’t real, i promise.”
“you’re okay,” he says aloud, reassuring himself, his vocal cords crackling with the remnants of being unable to speak or have control over his body, even in his dream.
“i’m okay,” you echo without missing a beat, not needing him to elaborate. “safe and sound with you.” the last of his discomfort vanishes at the weight of your forehead on his, a distance you close, and the way you rub the nip of your noses together. “just like you’re safe and sound with me, my love.”
with a sigh of relief that you feel the heat of on your mouth, his fingers tangle into your hair and pull you closer till your lips meet in a long, soft kiss that seals your promise into his heart and soul.
i know i already wrote a nightmare fic for him but idgaf. poor baby has too many nightmares
SUMMARY : cloud gets back after a mission goes sideways and notices the bartender he’s never quite spoken to before knows every one of his favorite drinks by heart.
# drabble.ᐟ⸝⸝ acquaintance!cloud strife ⸝⸝ opening up ⸝⸝ canon compliant ⸝⸝ closed off cloud ⸝⸝ sfw ⸝⸝
the usual quiet shift at 7th heaven had settled in. the place wasn’t packed, just a midweek slump after another reactor run that left half the crew nursing bruises and egos. tifa was in the back sorting stock, barret’s booming laugh had already faded out the door an hour ago with the others, and you, the humble bartender, were wiping down the wooden counter for the third time. calm and consistent, that was your role here. you poured the drinks, listened to the stories if anyone felt like telling them, and stayed out of the crossfire.
you’d noticed cloud the first week he started showing up with the avalanche crew. spiky blond hair, that ridiculous sword propped on his back like it weighed nothing, and eyes that glowed just a little too blue under the dim lights. you’d asked tifa about him once, casual and nothing pushy. “ex-soldier. mercenary type. good in a fight.” she’d said it with that soft smile of hers, but the way she glanced at him told you enough. there was history there. you quickly figured he wasn’t the chatting kind. a brick wall had better odds, probably.
so you didn’t push. you just watched and memorized.
he always took the same stool at the far end, back to the wall, shoulders tense like he expected a fight to break out over cheap beer which was ridiculous. there were rarely ever fights at the 7th heaven. tonight was no different. the door creaked open, cool and smoky slum air slipping in behind him, and there he was, boots heavy on the floorboards with the buster sword on his back like always. he looked worn. the mission had gone sideways again. you could tell from the faint blood on his knuckle and the way his jaw was locked tight.
you didn’t wait for him to speak. that was pointless. you grabbed a glass, poured two fingers of the cheap whiskey, neat with no ice, the way he took it when the weight of whatever shit he carried sat heavier than usual. the bottle clinked softly as you set it down and slid the glass across the counter right as he dropped onto the stool.
cloud’s gloved hand stopped it without looking up. a beat of silence. those mako eyes flicked to the glass, then to you. not surprised exactly, but something close to acknowledgment. most you’d get out of him anyway.
“…thanks.” his voice was low. gruff. like the word cost him effort.
you nodded, keeping your expression easy, and polished another glass to give him space. no big smiles, no small talk. that wasn’t how you played it with him. but a few seconds later you couldn’t help yourself and curiosity got the better of you. “rough one out there?”
he took a slow sip, staring into the amber liquid. “not interested in rehashing it.”
you nodded and shrugged. fair enough. you’d heard that tone before, the cool merc front he put up like armor. you let the quiet stretch, the faint hum of the jukebox in the corner filling the gaps. he didn’t leave though. he never did right away on nights like this. he just sat there, drinking in measured pulls, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit with each one.
a couple regulars filtered in and out. you served them the same way you always did, but your attention kept drifting back. cloud wasn’t brooding at the floor this time. his gaze kept sliding your way, brief and almost reluctant, like he was trying to figure out your angle.
you mixed another without asking when his glass got low, a splash of the darker stuff this time with a twist of whatever cheap citrus tifa kept behind the bar. it matched the mood shift. still guarded, but less “leave me to die in the wastes” and more “i’ll handle it myself, thanks.”
he noticed immediately when you slid the fresh one over. one eyebrow twitched, the closest thing to surprise you’d ever get out of a man like him.
“you’ve been paying attention.” it wasn’t a question. still flat as ever, but not annoyed. that was progress, at least.
you shrugged, casual, leaning on the counter a bit. “kinda hard not to when someone orders the same rotation every time. bad day gets the straight whiskey. coming down from a fight gets the sour edge. figured it was easier than making you ask.”
cloud huffed, almost a laugh but drier than the deserts outside midgar. he spun the glass once in his hand, watching the liquid swirl. “don’t need babysitting.”
“didn’t say you did.” you kept your voice light, no challenge. “just doing my job. and you tip better when you’re not completely wrecked.”
that got a flicker. the corner of his mouth twitched, barely there. he took another drink, then set the glass down with more care than usual. the bar had emptied out again. you lost track of how long it’s been. slow night.
for a long minute, there was silence while you organized the drinks on the self with your back turned to him. then—
“you’re not like the rest of them.” his voice was quieter. not exactly softer, but it was less edged. he didn’t look at you, staring at the shelves instead. “you don’t push. don’t ask stupid questions about SOLDIER crap or the planet.”
you smiled faintly, polishing a glass and setting it down. “pushing a brick wall gets you nowhere. learned that quick.”
he glanced over then. his eyes held yours for a second longer than necessary. something unspoken passed there. recognition, maybe. or just the exhaustion cracking through the facade.
“…yeah.” he finished the second drink, pushed the glass back. stood up, rolling his shoulder like all that talking had tired him out somehow. but he paused, gloved fingers drumming once on the counter. “next time… whatever you think fits. saves me the trouble.”
it wasn’t much. but coming from cloud? it might as well have been a full conversation. he headed for the door without another word, the bell jingling behind him as the door swung shut.
you stared at the empty glass and the cash underneath it, a small warmth settling in your chest despite yourself. brick wall, sure. but even bricks had cracks if you waited long enough.
imagine that Sephiroth became so self-aware he ends up believing that there was something beyond Jenova and that this entire game was a lie.
They were all just codes to him the moment he realizes that the strangers acted flat and repetitive, saying the same dialogue all the time when he interacts.
Then he realized something, there was someone watching all of this, someone higher than Jenova and someone that's capable of controlling the events of the game.
Once he dies his body was back, fully rigged only to be killed again. He was aware of all of this and yet he has little to no control. It was insane at first, it was more shocking than the reveal that he was actually Jenova's 'child'.
He wants to know more, more about who is controlling the game and who is putting him into this endless loop. It led to him moving through the codes, studying every time you appear and every time you disappeared. He even tried the libraries but they hold no information within books, so he had to do it himself.
You were in fact playing the game again, including Crisis Core and the remake version of the game.
But the more you played it, the more you noticed strange things with the code. Cloud's character kept glitching out, Sephiroth's dialogue changes the moment you encounter him in Crisis Core and interact with him as Zack.
"Are you satisfied yet?" Sephiroth asked, glaring at the screen instead of the character. All the other characters dialogues continued as normally, almost as if they couldn't hear what Sephiroth was saying.
Perhaps his interest of trying to figure out who you are spiralled down into an obsession until eventually one day at the post credit scene of any final fantasy seven game you played. A hand reached out from the screen.
One that wore black leather gloves, one with long silver hair. One that smiled in a way that wasn't soft, gleeful, or warm at all.
