You're My Obsession [FFVII, Cloud/Tifa, NC-17]
Title: You're My Obsession
Author/Artist: sekiharatae
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex...
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII, Cloud/Tifa: Obsession. Cloud has a fixation.
Word count: 1800
Summary: A look at Cloud's motivations.
A/N One: This is a day late, and I'm terribly sorry. I blame the puppies, because they are as demanding as they are cute.
A/N Two: I had definite plans for this prompt, but now I fear I may have tried to do too much, and have failed rather horridly at all of it.
“Cloud...”
His name was a soft thread of sound sighed against his ear. It sent pleasurable thrills along his spine, prompting him to turn his head and capture Tifa’s hot, seeking mouth in a deep kiss, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone as his other hand skimmed lazily over her curves. He murmured wordlessly in response, the sound low and deep, soothing yet vaguely hungry. Controlled, even if that control was merely a facade.
Tifa liked when he was in control.
The pretense that he could wait indefinitely for his own release drove her wild. Her body tensed and trembled with want when he whispered heated instructions in a voice that was incongruously calm. She shuddered and whimpered and begged for more when he took her slowly; went completely soft and wanton and needy if he used his greater strength to restrain her hands or motion.
It was something he’d discovered inadvertently, their very first time together. The thought of leaving her unsatisfied was and always would be unwelcome. Wanting it to last, determined to make it good for her, he’d kept a stranglehold on his own desires. Doing so had necessitated keeping control of her, preventing wandering hands and writhing hips from finishing things before they began. He’d had one hand wrapped around her wrists, gently pinning them down, when he realized her heartbeat had sped up, the burgundy in her eyes was brighter, and the scent of her arousal stronger. Her unexpected response had been almost enough to undo him.
As with everything else, their preferences meshed perfectly. Where Tifa enjoyed relinquishing control and trusting him to see to their mutual satisfaction, Cloud relished the role of the more dominant, giving partner. In part because it soothed the latent fear that he would forget himself and hold her too tightly, press too hard, use more of his mako-given strength than he intended; but even more so because he genuinely reveled in using his hands and lips and body to demonstrate how very important she was to him.
“Cloud.”
A gasp this time, louder and more emphatic, her fingers threading through his hair when he released her mouth to slide his down the column of her throat. His teeth scraped teasingly over the jut of her collarbone before settling at her breast, carefully worrying the nipple as he laved it with his tongue. His hands sought hers, tangling their fingers together before moving his palms to her hips and then lower, cupping her bottom and urging her mound against the taut muscles of his stomach. Their twined fingers splayed over her lower back, the position forcing her elbows to bend and her body to arch, pressing ample curves against hard planes.
“Soon,” he whispered when she whimpered, legs moving restlessly on either side of his. His tone betrayed nothing of the effort he made to keep his voice level, to control his breathing, to bite back the moan that sought to escape at the feel of her wet slit pressed so tightly against him.
Sometimes he would yield just enough self-restraint to show her everything she did to him, ensuring she knew that her merest touch or glance or word could have him hard and more than eager. Only rarely, and only if it was what she needed. If Tifa wanted it - wanted the visceral pleasure of him losing control more than the physical one of losing herself - she could have it. Whatever she needed, whatever she wanted, whatever heightened her pleasure... that’s what he’d do. Because for him it was always about her. Everything he’d ever done or would do was about her. About keeping her safe and happy and satisfied. Even when he’d made mistakes, they’d been made with the best of intentions, and the desire - the bone deep, instinctual need - to take care of her, someway, somehow.
Even though she didn’t need it.
As he slowly kissed a line down her flat stomach, slender fingers clenched around his, their tight grasp assuring him that this she did need. He smiled, brushing his lips back and forth over soft skin, letting her feel his pleasure and satisfaction in that simple fact. Drifting lower, he shifted his grip until she rose up on her heels, allowing his shoulders to slip between and under her thighs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he lifted her lower body off the bed, letting her fingers go in order to part her folds with his thumbs. A soft exhale had her moaning, hands fisting in the covers, and he forced his answering groan into a chuckle.
Tifa shivered at the sound, her head falling back. “Please, Cloud!”
She was warm and slick and ready, but experience told him she could be needier still. That with a little more teasing, and a few more judiciously placed touches, she would come apart in his arms, the small explosion making her all the more eager to be taken.
In this he was an expert. He knew exactly how and where to touch to make her absolutely crazy, how to ensure that her orgasms were long and intense. How to make her come using his fingers, his tongue, his body, his voice, his cock. How to give her the most satisfaction. And he gloried in doing so. More than just a considerate lover, he was absolutely fixated. Giving her pleasure was in many ways more gratifying than taking his own. He loved to make her come repeatedly, time after time, waiting until she was tired and sated before accepting his own release.
Tifa teased him about being insatiable, and he was: starved for her. He’d always loved the sound of her voice, yet found it even sweeter when she was moaning or whimpering or screaming his name. Had always thought her beautiful, but in the throes of release she was exquisite. Had always known she was strong, but found a new appreciation for it when her arms and legs and body clenched tight around him as she came.
“Reach for it, Tifa,” he murmured as he traced faint, teasing patterns over her clit, touch almost non-existent. Her heels dug into his back as she arched against his hand, wanting more. Shifting, he reached up to rub his thumb over her nipple, and stretched long fingers down to give her a shallow semblance of penetration.
“Oh, oh Gods.” Dark hair snaked across the pillows as she tossed her head, one hand pressing his more firmly against her breast, the other curling around his wrist.
The fact that she didn’t use her nails told him she wasn’t as far gone as he would like. Lowering his head he laved her navel, then began mimicking the motion of his fingers, his tongue repeatedly stabbing into the beguiling and over-sensitive dimple. Tifa’s breathing stuttered and her hips lurched as she tried to hold back, wanting release but still savoring the pleasure of the climb. Unable to center herself under the constant and varied barrage of sensations, she broke.
Cloud stroked and caressed her through her orgasm, gaze intent upon her face. Cheeks flushed, she bit her lip and held her breath for a few heartbeats, then gave a panting mewl when the first rush of pleasure abated. Head and arms shifted languidly, almost stretching, and then the latent tension he’d built rushed back, filling her awareness, changing her faint sound of content into a whimper for more.
“More what?” he asked, knowing what the calmly voiced question would do to her. The implication that he would withhold what she wanted if she didn’t answer was an empty, teasing threat - at worst, he’d make her wait a shade longer for release. But in the heat of the moment, the suggestion emphasized her need and his control, and made her just a bit more frantic. Long fingers stroking inside her, dancing over her sweet spot, finished the job, sending her over the edge a second time.
This was his obsession. He’d never tire of watching, hearing, feeling her come. He loved knowing he was the only one who ever would.
He used his mouth to give her release a third time, then surged inside her, setting a steady rhythm that had her pleasure cresting again almost immediately. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to hold out just a bit longer, wanting to feel her wet, clinging heat rippling around him at least once more before he surrendered to the inevitable. Wanted to stay inside her forever, drowning in sensation.
Tifa was mindless, head back and mouth working soundlessly as she gasped for breath and ground her hips against him almost violently. “Need it!” she panted, and he knew she wanted to feel him swell and harden that fraction more, followed by the hot rush of his ejaculate, the uncontrolled jerking of his shaft as he came. Whether it was him or her or them together, the sudden flood of sensation was always enough to send her over again.
“Mmmm,” he played the wordless sound of approval against her throat, trailing his lips from the curve of her shoulder to the nape of her neck, the contact feather light and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “Persuade me,” he urged, voice a low, teasing growl as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear.
“Cloud!” It was a petulant moan, accompanied by the feel of her nails digging into his shoulders, insistent and demanding. His hands found her hips and snugged her tighter against him, adjusting their angle so that each thrust filled her in exactly the right way, each movement of his hips applied much needed friction to her engorged clit.
“Yes,” she breathed, and then, as her body tightened and convulsed, she repeated it in an almost shout: “Yes!”
In that moment, she filled every one of his enhanced senses: the sound of her voice, the sight of her transported expression, the taste and scent of her skin, the feel of her limbs and passage all locked tightly around him. It was heaven. No fabled Promised Land could compete with this, with being surrounded by Tifa in every way as she succumbed to the pleasure he gave her.
And then he let himself go, following her over the edge, and it was even better. He groaned, releasing everything he’d held back with a single hoarse shout, and distantly heard her voice raise in a brief scream as his climax triggered one last orgasm of her own.
Cloud kept them locked together as he rolled to his side, hands stroking over her back as they both panted for air. He folded her close in protective arms, both of them sated and content; yet even as he shifted from passionate to tender, he was contemplating the next round.
For the fixation was mutual and consuming, and neither had any urge to overcome the obsession.
Author/Artist: sekiharatae
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex...
Prompt: Final Fantasy VII, Cloud/Tifa: Obsession. Cloud has a fixation.
Word count: 1800
Summary: A look at Cloud's motivations.
A/N One: This is a day late, and I'm terribly sorry. I blame the puppies, because they are as demanding as they are cute.
A/N Two: I had definite plans for this prompt, but now I fear I may have tried to do too much, and have failed rather horridly at all of it.
“Cloud...”
His name was a soft thread of sound sighed against his ear. It sent pleasurable thrills along his spine, prompting him to turn his head and capture Tifa’s hot, seeking mouth in a deep kiss, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone as his other hand skimmed lazily over her curves. He murmured wordlessly in response, the sound low and deep, soothing yet vaguely hungry. Controlled, even if that control was merely a facade.
Tifa liked when he was in control.
The pretense that he could wait indefinitely for his own release drove her wild. Her body tensed and trembled with want when he whispered heated instructions in a voice that was incongruously calm. She shuddered and whimpered and begged for more when he took her slowly; went completely soft and wanton and needy if he used his greater strength to restrain her hands or motion.
It was something he’d discovered inadvertently, their very first time together. The thought of leaving her unsatisfied was and always would be unwelcome. Wanting it to last, determined to make it good for her, he’d kept a stranglehold on his own desires. Doing so had necessitated keeping control of her, preventing wandering hands and writhing hips from finishing things before they began. He’d had one hand wrapped around her wrists, gently pinning them down, when he realized her heartbeat had sped up, the burgundy in her eyes was brighter, and the scent of her arousal stronger. Her unexpected response had been almost enough to undo him.
As with everything else, their preferences meshed perfectly. Where Tifa enjoyed relinquishing control and trusting him to see to their mutual satisfaction, Cloud relished the role of the more dominant, giving partner. In part because it soothed the latent fear that he would forget himself and hold her too tightly, press too hard, use more of his mako-given strength than he intended; but even more so because he genuinely reveled in using his hands and lips and body to demonstrate how very important she was to him.
“Cloud.”
A gasp this time, louder and more emphatic, her fingers threading through his hair when he released her mouth to slide his down the column of her throat. His teeth scraped teasingly over the jut of her collarbone before settling at her breast, carefully worrying the nipple as he laved it with his tongue. His hands sought hers, tangling their fingers together before moving his palms to her hips and then lower, cupping her bottom and urging her mound against the taut muscles of his stomach. Their twined fingers splayed over her lower back, the position forcing her elbows to bend and her body to arch, pressing ample curves against hard planes.
“Soon,” he whispered when she whimpered, legs moving restlessly on either side of his. His tone betrayed nothing of the effort he made to keep his voice level, to control his breathing, to bite back the moan that sought to escape at the feel of her wet slit pressed so tightly against him.
Sometimes he would yield just enough self-restraint to show her everything she did to him, ensuring she knew that her merest touch or glance or word could have him hard and more than eager. Only rarely, and only if it was what she needed. If Tifa wanted it - wanted the visceral pleasure of him losing control more than the physical one of losing herself - she could have it. Whatever she needed, whatever she wanted, whatever heightened her pleasure... that’s what he’d do. Because for him it was always about her. Everything he’d ever done or would do was about her. About keeping her safe and happy and satisfied. Even when he’d made mistakes, they’d been made with the best of intentions, and the desire - the bone deep, instinctual need - to take care of her, someway, somehow.
Even though she didn’t need it.
As he slowly kissed a line down her flat stomach, slender fingers clenched around his, their tight grasp assuring him that this she did need. He smiled, brushing his lips back and forth over soft skin, letting her feel his pleasure and satisfaction in that simple fact. Drifting lower, he shifted his grip until she rose up on her heels, allowing his shoulders to slip between and under her thighs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he lifted her lower body off the bed, letting her fingers go in order to part her folds with his thumbs. A soft exhale had her moaning, hands fisting in the covers, and he forced his answering groan into a chuckle.
Tifa shivered at the sound, her head falling back. “Please, Cloud!”
She was warm and slick and ready, but experience told him she could be needier still. That with a little more teasing, and a few more judiciously placed touches, she would come apart in his arms, the small explosion making her all the more eager to be taken.
In this he was an expert. He knew exactly how and where to touch to make her absolutely crazy, how to ensure that her orgasms were long and intense. How to make her come using his fingers, his tongue, his body, his voice, his cock. How to give her the most satisfaction. And he gloried in doing so. More than just a considerate lover, he was absolutely fixated. Giving her pleasure was in many ways more gratifying than taking his own. He loved to make her come repeatedly, time after time, waiting until she was tired and sated before accepting his own release.
Tifa teased him about being insatiable, and he was: starved for her. He’d always loved the sound of her voice, yet found it even sweeter when she was moaning or whimpering or screaming his name. Had always thought her beautiful, but in the throes of release she was exquisite. Had always known she was strong, but found a new appreciation for it when her arms and legs and body clenched tight around him as she came.
“Reach for it, Tifa,” he murmured as he traced faint, teasing patterns over her clit, touch almost non-existent. Her heels dug into his back as she arched against his hand, wanting more. Shifting, he reached up to rub his thumb over her nipple, and stretched long fingers down to give her a shallow semblance of penetration.
“Oh, oh Gods.” Dark hair snaked across the pillows as she tossed her head, one hand pressing his more firmly against her breast, the other curling around his wrist.
The fact that she didn’t use her nails told him she wasn’t as far gone as he would like. Lowering his head he laved her navel, then began mimicking the motion of his fingers, his tongue repeatedly stabbing into the beguiling and over-sensitive dimple. Tifa’s breathing stuttered and her hips lurched as she tried to hold back, wanting release but still savoring the pleasure of the climb. Unable to center herself under the constant and varied barrage of sensations, she broke.
Cloud stroked and caressed her through her orgasm, gaze intent upon her face. Cheeks flushed, she bit her lip and held her breath for a few heartbeats, then gave a panting mewl when the first rush of pleasure abated. Head and arms shifted languidly, almost stretching, and then the latent tension he’d built rushed back, filling her awareness, changing her faint sound of content into a whimper for more.
“More what?” he asked, knowing what the calmly voiced question would do to her. The implication that he would withhold what she wanted if she didn’t answer was an empty, teasing threat - at worst, he’d make her wait a shade longer for release. But in the heat of the moment, the suggestion emphasized her need and his control, and made her just a bit more frantic. Long fingers stroking inside her, dancing over her sweet spot, finished the job, sending her over the edge a second time.
This was his obsession. He’d never tire of watching, hearing, feeling her come. He loved knowing he was the only one who ever would.
He used his mouth to give her release a third time, then surged inside her, setting a steady rhythm that had her pleasure cresting again almost immediately. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to hold out just a bit longer, wanting to feel her wet, clinging heat rippling around him at least once more before he surrendered to the inevitable. Wanted to stay inside her forever, drowning in sensation.
Tifa was mindless, head back and mouth working soundlessly as she gasped for breath and ground her hips against him almost violently. “Need it!” she panted, and he knew she wanted to feel him swell and harden that fraction more, followed by the hot rush of his ejaculate, the uncontrolled jerking of his shaft as he came. Whether it was him or her or them together, the sudden flood of sensation was always enough to send her over again.
“Mmmm,” he played the wordless sound of approval against her throat, trailing his lips from the curve of her shoulder to the nape of her neck, the contact feather light and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “Persuade me,” he urged, voice a low, teasing growl as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear.
“Cloud!” It was a petulant moan, accompanied by the feel of her nails digging into his shoulders, insistent and demanding. His hands found her hips and snugged her tighter against him, adjusting their angle so that each thrust filled her in exactly the right way, each movement of his hips applied much needed friction to her engorged clit.
“Yes,” she breathed, and then, as her body tightened and convulsed, she repeated it in an almost shout: “Yes!”
In that moment, she filled every one of his enhanced senses: the sound of her voice, the sight of her transported expression, the taste and scent of her skin, the feel of her limbs and passage all locked tightly around him. It was heaven. No fabled Promised Land could compete with this, with being surrounded by Tifa in every way as she succumbed to the pleasure he gave her.
And then he let himself go, following her over the edge, and it was even better. He groaned, releasing everything he’d held back with a single hoarse shout, and distantly heard her voice raise in a brief scream as his climax triggered one last orgasm of her own.
Cloud kept them locked together as he rolled to his side, hands stroking over her back as they both panted for air. He folded her close in protective arms, both of them sated and content; yet even as he shifted from passionate to tender, he was contemplating the next round.
For the fixation was mutual and consuming, and neither had any urge to overcome the obsession.