#sephiroth final fantasy

[koasku]

[v0odo00]

*⁠.⁠✧

[midgarangel]

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.”

— ʚɞ

a · aftercare

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.

b · body part

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.

c · cum

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.

d · dirty secret

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.

e · experience

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.

f · fav position

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.

g · goofy

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.

h · hair

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.

i · intimacy

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.

j · jerk off

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.

k · kink

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.

l · location

He has a preference for your place, because it smells and feels like you. Never in public.

m · motivation

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.

n · no

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.

o · oral

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.

p · pace

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.

q · quickie

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?”

r · risk

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.

s · stamina

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.

t · toys

Big fan of them. Especially since he loooooves overstimulating you.

u · unfair

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?”

v · volume

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.

w · wild card

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.

x · x-ray

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.


y · yearn

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.

z · zzz

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.

— ʚɞ

i hc sephiroth as a sub most of the time but i love picturing him this way too.

[mechwolf-art]

Did some coloring practice ~

[kunoia]

aerith why are you letting him out vent you :(

[fuwafuwafig]

like father like son

[icycoldninja]

A lot of times, you wonder what you are to Sephiroth. His friend? His worst enemy? Just a person he tolerates?

It’s hard to say; your relationship is something undeniably weird, cultivated mostly on the battlefield and in Shinra training rooms. It’s by no means toxic—or is it? Because sometimes you find yourself pulling mean pranks on him just for the sake of it. His confused expression always cracks you up without fail. Of course, he makes sure to get you back twice as hard, because the great hero Sephiroth could never let his reputation be tarnished by the likes of you.

It’s very clear to all—even Zack, who just joined—that the two of you are very close. Your actions, the way you just seem to relax whenever Sephiroth walks into the room, and the way he just seems so light when he talks to you, all that proof points to a loving relationship. But is it true, romantic love or just a close, platonic friendship where Sephiroth finally feels comfortable enough to tell a dry joke for once in his life?

No one in Shinra knows.

Not even you know how he feels.

But you know how you feel about him, and you know that he is quite literally, your everything. Your best friend. Your closest confidant. Your worst enemy. Your sparring partner. The guy who always has an infinite supply of hair ties. And of course, your biggest crush, but that part is a secret.

So, when you find yourself in the middle of a burning village, with Sephiroth standing in front of you, the blade of his sword coated in the blood of countless unidentified individuals. You’re naturally afraid. But then he holds out his hand and offers you the world, but you’re not interested in the world, the world can suck it for all you care. He knows that.

You’re interested in him.

He’s your everything.

How could you ever deny him?

[emmyc0z]

just for me

pairing : sephiroth x fem! reader

cw : smut, semi public, drinking, reader is tipsy but not intoxicated.

a/n : hi guys…. i finally wrote part 3 of this sephiroth series (mini series idk). thanks for all the requests for part three, and all the love on the first two parts. i hope i did y’all justice. felt right to get this out during kinktober too.

part 1 - not so subtle

part 2 - impressive woman

divider by @cursed-carmine

An invitation sits in your mailbox. A company party. Celebrating some sort of anniversary. It’s not like the idea of a get together of your predominately male coworkers appeals to you but the promise of alcohol does. And you would feel so bad if you left Zack to be there on his own, following Angeal like a lost puppy because the boy, as charismatic as he is, doesn’t really have anyone else. Maybe you’re just telling yourself because you don’t have anyone else.

And even though the idea of a company party has you feeling overwhelmingly sick, you can’t wait to see the tall man who you have been meticulously centering your life around for the last two months. You train together. You eat together. You spend so much time together that many people have started to assume that you’re together romantically. Yet, the situation between you two hasn’t progressed beyond your hands brushing when he passes you a towel after training.

You’re beginning to think he’s no longer interested in you. You’ve trained yourself not to stare because it feels so pathetic that his gaze is never on you. He’s caught you so many times, and you’ve caught him staring at his sword with more affection than he ever casts your way.

When you arrive in the evening, the Shinra company lobby is buzzing with sound. A consistent chatter fills the large space, the quiet hum and bump of over priced and underutilized speakers hanging underneath the voices of hundreds of SOLDIERs and company workers.

You’re dressed in your best dress, if not your only dress, and even though everyone is dressed similarly you feel out of place. It’s been months, maybe years, since you’ve worn something so nice, used to the roughened fabric of SOLDIER garb.

You gravitate to the bar, and try not to think about Sephiroth, where is he? Who cares? If he even likes you he should come find you, why’re you always the one who’s searching for him? You order yourself a drink and look for the only other man in your life, the best brotherly figure a woman could ask for, Zack Fair.

“Long time no see,” He speaks with teasing spite, acknowledging the time you’ve spent with Sephiroth and not with him, “I didn’t know you could clean up so nicely.” He rises from his seat, standing a few inches taller than you, a goofy smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

“I could say the same thing about you, Fair.”

“Where’s the silver fox?”

“He’s not old enough for you to call him that. And I would keep impulsive nicknames to yourself if you find yourself in conversation with him.” You brush his question off with scolding, plopping pathetically into the nearest chair and sipping your drink. A heavy sigh pushes from your chest, and if your words weren’t enough to alert Zack of your annoyance, that certainly was. He takes the seat beside you, clocking in for his shift as your best friend.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” You grumble out and trace the rim of your glass with a manicured finger, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“To be honest, I’ve been avoiding him since the beginning of this week.”

“Why would you do that? I thought things were really good?”

“So did I,” You sit a little straighter, voice louder, “But, I’m not even sure he still likes me. I can’t bring myself to talk to him because I’m scared I’ll say something stupid and ruin whatever shred of attraction he feels for me. If even a shred.” You speak fast, looking at Zack with furrowed brows, pulse quickening as you verbalize your feelings for the first time. Albeit to the wrong person.

He doesn’t respond. He stares at you like you have five heads. And it makes you nervous so you keep talking.

“I mean, the man kisses me in a hallway, he basically implies that we should have sex sometime and now he won’t even look at me. Things are so platonic that I feel like I'm with Angeal whenever we spend time together, I genuinely think I’m getting more interaction from Angeal in the cafeteria lunch line than I do from Sephiroth when we’re with each other almost every day. I feel like he’s just letting me stick around because he thinks I'm too weak to take the rejection.”

“You are.”

“Hey.”

“Well..”

“I definitely am. But, he doesn’t need to know that.”

Zack laughs, and some of the tension in your chest settles, “Listen, you’re blowing this completely out of proportion. This is just a case of crazy, stress induced anxiety that you seriously have to start working on.”

“Please, how would you know if it’s just anxiety? He practically hides me away whenever we’re together.”

“Are you perhaps blind? Or predisposed to see things completely wrong or something?”

“What?”

“He does not hide you. The man parades you around Shinra like a prize chocobo.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Hello? What? I’ve never seen him walk around the Shinra building as much as he has been, and he is always with you. Like he takes you with him everywhere he goes. I’m pretty sure he would pick you up and put you in his pocket if he could. Or paste a big sign on your back that says ‘property of Sephiroth’.”

“Zack, please, we’re basically just friends, if that. Sometimes friends kiss and then never talk about it and that is completely okay.”

“Okay for who?”

“For me. For him.”

“Is it? Because you’re clearly upset about it and he clearly likes you.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “The way he looks at you is disgusting and the only person who can’t see it is you! He’s not even hiding whatever emotion he’s harbouring for you and you still can’t see it. Hey, by the way, please don’t ever tell me about implicated sex between one of my mentors and my best friend ever again. I felt a real shiver go through me, like I am not kidding my entire stomach turned when you said that.”

“Grow up, Zack.”

“You first.”

You stick your tongue out.

“Listen, you need to talk to him. Tonight, tomorrow, next week, it doesn’t matter but you have to tell people how you feel or they’ll never know. You can’t just rant to me and assume that will fix things, even though I do love to listen to the insane ways your brain turns nothing into something. Now, I’m pretty sure the man in question isn’t even here tonight. Angeal told me he might be off on a job, so let’s forget about him and enjoy this bad office party! ‘Kay?”

“.. ‘kay.”

“That’s the spirit. Let’s get you another drink.”

And he does. And another. And another. Until you no longer have that nauseous feeling in your stomach at the thought of Sephiroth, if even the thought at all. The two of you use the under-appreciated dance floor and he forces you to have fun you didn’t expect to have here.

But with the two of you being apart in age, even if it’s a minuscule amount, you find the dancing catches up to you much faster then him and you have to excuse yourself. The lobby is too hot, the mixture of alcohol and food in your stomach is sloshing from all the movement, and you have to step away from all the action just to breathe. You retreat to an empty hallway, the sound still audible but muffled.

“I thought I saw you dancing out there. Too much excitement for you?” His voice is calm and cuts through the silence of your hallway, and the nauseous feeling comes back much stronger than before. You turn your face to Sephiroth, hands resting on your stomach, anxiously rubbing at the fabric there.

“Something like that,” you smile weakly, “I thought you were on a mission tonight?”

“Keeping tabs?” He steps closer, a grin small but evident on his lips, and he seems to notice you’re not amused so he changes his answer, “I was.” He looks unfairly handsome, not in his usual SOLDIER garb but in a suit, jacket hung open casually, the first buttons undone. You fight the urge to blurt out how nice he looks, which proves an incredibly hard feat with all the alcohol in your system making you feel loose-lipped, and instead focus on being subtle, being ‘chill’. Being a friend instead of a crazy person with a crush. “But I finished up quickly so I could make an appearance.”

“How generous of you to grace Shinra with your presence for one night.”

“I wouldn’t call it generosity, it was purely out of my own self interest that I decided to come.”

“Didn’t take you for a drinker.”

“I’m not.” Another step closer to you, his grin still placid and calm.

“What interested you then?”

“You.”

You don’t mean to scoff directly in his face, but the sound comes before you can catch it. His stupidly sexy smirk falters and for a moment it feels exhilarating to catch this man off guard, to assert yourself as above him. But it also fills you with unmistakable dread. Weren’t you just complaining that you were worried about ruining the shred of attraction he has for you? So you scoff.. in his face when he expresses desire to see you?

“You didn’t want to see me?”

“No!”

“No, you didn’t..?”

“No! No, as in I did, not that I didn’t..”

“I see. Then something else bothers you? You don’t have to pretend like it’s not true, if only for right now. Tell me why you sound distrustful?”

“Do you like me? Or- I mean, do you feel attracted to me.. romantically?” You wobble on your heels, looking down proving to be a dizzying mistake. But he quickly fixes that for you. He steps close, close enough that you can smell the subtle undertone of his cologne and the scent of smoke that always seems to follow him. He tilts your chin up with familiarity and ease, rubbing his thumb over your lip before retracting his hand.

“Silly girl, do I not make my affections clear to you?” He tilts his head expectantly, like he wants a verbal answer but continues on when you do not offer one. “Hm? Do I need to shout my feelings for all to hear so you will understand? I was not aware that I needed to be so bold to prevent you from feeling neglected. Is that what you feel? That I’ve neglected your feelings?”

You’re too tipsy for this, his voice is so smooth and your body feels like butter dripping to the floor. You place your hand on your arm to steady yourself and his large ones move to your waist to aid in your balance.

You nod and he mimics your movements, lifting one warm palm to cup your cheek, forcing you to watch as he copies the humiliatingly slow movement of your head, “It seems I have.. Then, allow me to correct my error and prove my affections to you once and for all, so that you may never have to doubt them again. Hm?”

Once again he mimics your dazed nod, and leads you gently by the waist to the nearest door. Inside is a training room, you’ve never used this particular one and it appears to be a place for Professor Hojo’s records rather than one to track personal growth in strength. But you doubt you’ll be using it for training, maybe physical activity, but not the monitored kind.

Sephiroth ushers you back, crowding you against the panel console, buttons and switches digging into your back. But his nose brushes against your neck and you have a hard time focusing on them, instead hyperfixated on the way his smirked lips brush against the warm skin of your neck and the way his breath only serves to heat you further. He nips at your flesh, planting a kiss against your visible collarbone, then rises to meet your face. His hair cascades against his chest, tickling against the neckline of your dress. “You smell good.. Really good..”

You gasp against his lips as he takes yours, messy and uncoordinated. You have to force your half-lidded eyes to focus to really make sure you're kissing the same Sephiroth who was meticulous in every detail of his life. His tongue swipes against your lip, wanting in, and you let him. He thanks you with a hum, invading your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours in a way that has you thankful for your uncomfortable seat on the panel console. He forces your head up, controls your movement with a strong hand on your jaw, while the other slides up the side of your thigh, fabric bunching up.

He pulls away and your head reels, a whine ringing from your throat, and he looks at you with that same stupid smirk that has heat pooling between your legs. “Your dress is pretty too, did you wear it for me?” He pushes his hand up higher, long thumb swiping at lacy fabric, “What about these? These for me too? S’okay, you don’t have to answer, pretty.”

He doesn’t even allow you a moment to respond, dominating your mind with a simple quirk of his lips, capturing yours against his once more as his hand delves between the depths of your thighs. His fingers work against you, teasingly slow then too fast for you to comprehend. He pushes against your entrance, fingers slowly pushing in and leaving you gasping against his lips, a gasp he swallows with pride.

He doesn’t have to ask if it’s good. He doesn’t have to ask how it feels. He knows, you give it away with your whines, with your lips against his kiss-swollen lips, with the way your hips desperately drag against his rough palm for friction against your clit. And just when you’re about to reach your peak, faster than any man, woman, or piece of plastic has delivered you there, he pulls his hand away. You gasp, frustrated and whiney, “Wha- why did you-.”

But he drops to his knees before you finish your sentence, silencing your whiney protests as his teeth sink into the pillowy flesh of your thigh, swiping his tongue over to soothe the indent of his canines. He kisses his way up your leg, head disappearing beneath the silky fabric of your dress and your head falls back as his tongue drags across your skin. This is where he takes his time, slow and sensual, knowing exactly where to use his tongue to have you seeing stars. One palm rests on his head, fingers buried in his silver locks, while the other slips and slides against the surface of the console, unintentionally pushing buttons and moving sliders you shouldn’t be.

He pushes the wriggly muscle inside your walls, thumb pushing against your clit to keep you reeling. He’s never wanted to be anywhere more than where he is right now, buried between the soft walls of your thighs, face slick with your juices as you ride out your high on his long, rigid nose. He keeps you upright through it all, knee rested over his shoulder while his other grips your hip to keep you upright through the tremors and shakes of your orgasm.

Sephiroth rises again, only once he knows your legs are steady, not that you’ll be on them much longer anyways. He catches your lips again, smearing your own slick against your face, and he has you moaning into his mouth. You need to catch your breath before you completely lose yourself, and you push him just enough to separate your lips.

Finally, it’s your turn to look at him, pulling away just enough to ogle his features, sweaty palm on his cheek. For the first time ever, you are seeing a truly disheveled Sephiroth. His hair is messy, unkempt beyond repair, flyaways stuck to his porcelain forehead. His pupils are blown wide, dilated like he’s on a high he won’t be coming down from for hours. Lips swollen and red, covered in a glossy shine. Even his suit has become messy, tie loosened, the first few buttons undone. The only reason you don’t feel his shaky hands is because they grip your hips so hard they’ll be leaving red indents, but not bruises. Never bruises. “You’re beautiful, like an angel..”

“Mm.. You flatter me, but it’s you who is the angel, my angel.” He disguises his war

He hikes your leg up to his hip, pushing your back against the panel, desperately clashing his lips to yours. His behaviour is strange, new, crazed, and you love it. You love this newfound desperation, his devotion unspoken but shown through his depravity and uncouthness.

You help him unzip his slacks, dazedly pulling him out. Your palm slides along his length and his head drops into the side of your neck, letting out shaky breaths. Like he’s trying not to moan. But when he does, it’s small, desperate and he muffles it by kissing your skin. Brushing your hand away, he nudges against your thighs. He doesn’t care to be touched right now, he wants to feel you, to show you his true devotion.

“You okay?” He checks in. And you nod vigorously, hips pushing forward to find him, but he stops you with a firm hand on your thigh. “Tell me to stop, and I will, at any point.” You nod again, slower, bringing his hand from your hip to your lips to kiss his knuckles. A slow, reassuring kiss and a gaze full of adoration.

He slips in with a groan, your own lips parted in a gasp. He’s big, long and reaching every nerve inside you. He doesn’t move, not until you give him the go ahead, then he’s pushing in and out in gentle waves. Slow and languid. Sensual. Devoted.

He’s making it clear that every inch of your, inside and out, he wants, he needs. His hips snap against yours, gasping against your neck, and you whine against his ear. Your hands claw at his suit, and you realize that you will most likely not be making a return to the party because you both look a mess. Not that you want to part from this moment.

Sephiroth’s pace picks up, silenced and reduced to a grunting mad man within your squishy walls, heavenly and soft, unlike anything he’s ever had before. And he plans to keep this feeling, he wants nothing different ever again. No one could ever compare to you. He’s lost in you. His depraved, panting against your neck, fueled by your mewls and moans, the way your nails scratch his skin through the fabric of his suit.

He snakes his hand between your legs as he thrusts, toying with you. Pushing you closer to release. He’s usually so calm, composed, but he’s coming undone between your legs and he knows he won’t last much longer. “You gonna come, hm? For me, baby, c’mon..”

And the circles from his thumb on your clit, and the way he reaches that spongy spot that has your back arched, has you pulling him in close, tight and unrelenting. Pulsing around him, whining against his shoulder, legs shaking against his hips. He finds himself unable to hold out any longer, the moment he feels your release he’s spilling into you with a pathetic groan that only has you wrapping around him tighter.

He slowly lets your legs down, kissing his way from your bust up to your lips. “You okay?” You can only nod, smiling in a daze, twirling his hair around your shaky finger.

He lets you find yourself again, to come down, safe in his arms. He breathes you in, helping you back to your feet once he knows you're ready. On your feet, you feel the liquid slide down your legs, yours or his, you're not sure, but it has your face red. Especially when he suggests returning to the party.

“Together. For everyone to see, I’ll parade you around how you want. But you have to keep it inside, something secret, just for me, hm?