#and idk it resolves very sweetly like they manage to get out and they have a nice dinner altogether after all and they get to meet his frien | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

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Kiss Me, Sub!Ivar (250 Drabble)

250 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: A breathy demand: “Kiss me”, and what the other person does to respond

Word Count: 1185 (sorry!)

Warnings: 18+. My attempt at smut, D/s power dynamics, Sub!Ivar, passing mentions of blood, edging.

A/N: This is a sequel to Basorexia, which you can find right here. And because I am an indecisive mess, I made two versions of this, one where Ivar comes out on top, and one where he surrenders. The other one will be uploaded alongside this one.

You force yourself to part your mouth from his skin, not being able to stop yourself from leaving a small bite before you do so. Without his mouth to claim with hungry kisses, you still have left the rest of his body, naked and pliant, underneath yours.

The sight of Ivar’s head tilted back, neck baring the mark of your work, chest rising and falling quickly under the soft touch of your hand as you trail lower, it makes a pang of heat travel all the way to your core, and it takes all your strength to keep yourself from claiming his mouth.

It is with a smile that you put a finger on his chin and guide his face to meet yours, silently command your eyes to meet yours. Your free hand continues trailing down his chest, pointedly slowing down when you get close enough to his cock.

His eyes meet yours with a hint of defiance you want nothing more than to break. And so you lean closer, breaths almost one.

He could end this silly game right now, just by leaning closer and kissing you. So could you.

But neither of you do.

“Do you surrender, my love?” You ask, as sweetly as you can manage when there’s a hungry smile curving at your lips.

And just like within you, there’s two sides of him at war, and they both reach the same answer.

“No.” Ivar’s answer is proud, stubborn, and exactly what you expected.

Because the part of him that wants to remain in control refuses to kiss you, to give you what you want, since you haven’t surrendered and accepted to let him win.

And because the part of him that craves to surrender control to you resists the urge to give in, since he wants to get what he wants without having to let you win.

“Very well,” You intone slowly, before trapping one of his wrists in your hand. “But if you refuse to let me kiss you…I won’t allow you to touch me. Hands over your head, my love.”

You lose track of time in all the ways you’re able to make him cry out with but a twist of your hand wrapped around his cock, in all the ways your name leaves his lips when you move down and tease him your mouth where he wants it most but not quite like he wants it.

You count the times, even if time eludes you. You count the times you bring him so close to the edge his arms are straining and his knuckles are white where he holds on to the headboard, you count the times he gives a hoarse shout of your name, his back curves and he’s right there before you take your hand or your mouth off him.

You count the times you watch him sink back into the bed, skin glistening and eyes squeezed shut, the broken sound that with each of those times becomes closer to a petulant sob leaving his lips.

It is torture for you as much as it is for him, when you decide to straddle him and take him inside you, feeling him stretch you and fill you; when you start moving up and down on his cock with the steeled resolved to stop if -when- he gets too close.

But all is fair in war and love, right? And this is a war you want to win.

You refuse to give him what he wants, what he needs, as long as he refuses to surrender.

And so his hands remain gripping tight at the headboard, and your movements remain torturous and teasing.

When you slow down yet once again, Ivar’s head tilts back, and he swallows hard before pleading,

“S-Stop.”

You immediately still, and eye him carefully for a moment, gauging whether he is trying to truly stop this, whether he truly needs this to end. After a breath, reassured this is nothing but desperation speaking, you smirk,

“Do you truly want me to stop?”

There’s the clear tell of gritted teeth, but you wait patiently until he admits,

“No. But...you are-...this is-...”

His breath is still laboured, his skin is still flushed, and he’s on the brink of being overwhelmed, of the spell of mindless yearning and pleasure you love to put him under. And words ellude him, so you help.

“All you have to do is beg, my love.”

You are startled when you feel his hands, rough and familiar on your legs, greedily stroking your thighs. You pull back, and your breath quickens at the prospect of being allowed to punish him.

“I told you,” You still offer, because you’re nothing if not soft-hearted when it comes to him, “As long as you refuse to surrender, you cannot touch me.”

He meets your eyes and his hands still don’t move from your skin, one of them even moving higher and his thumb barely-there, teasing at between your legs, where you’re connected.

Your hand on his throat is a threat, a warning, but Ivar remains compliant under your touch, and his eyes shine with something familiar, something you have earned and something you treasure.

Surrender.

His lips part, and his eyes never stray from yours as he whispers, “Kiss me.”

And you torture yourself as much as you torture him, when you refuse to claim his lips yet, when you start moving above him again, building up his -your- pleasure again.

You do kiss him. You kiss at an already marked neck, you bite at already bruised collarbones. Because those two words aren’t enough, and he knows it.

Two bruises later, and he’s begging.

“Please,” It sounds wretched and hoarse and Gods, how could you not crave his surrender, when he’s so beautiful like this? You start moving faster and faster over his cock, angling your body just so that you almost don’t need the skillful fingers he brings to your center to bring you closer to the edge, with him. “Please.”

And each drag of your body against his, each twitch of his cock inside of you, it takes you further under the rip current that threatens to drag you away.

Your nails are making new and redder trails over the ink of his chest, and with each movement of your hips Ivar cries out louder, hoarse moans and desperate pleas of your name.

And with every touch you threaten to shatter, your spine curves inward, your breath catches. Ivar doesn’t take his eyes off you, desperate and awed, answering each buck of your hips with a tightening of his hands on you, keeping you moving above him.

Your whole body shudders as pleasure takes you higher, and higher, and…

“P-Please, please, please…” Is a litany leaving his lips, devastated eyes still on you, surrender shining in them alongside the faint shine of tears.

And you’re dissolving, but your sex still clenches around him, and finally you lean down and kiss him, capturing his mouth on yours, greedy for the ragged moans that leave his lips as Ivar lets go in your arms.

____ ____ ____

This is my second time writing smut, idk how I feel about this tbh. I hope I did okay! Would love to hear your thoughts on this, thank you so much for reading!!

If you’d like to see her/you surrender, the alternative is right here.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @1950schick @ietss @peachyboneless @encounterthepast @xceafh @maggiescarborough @chibisgotovalhalla @fae-sedai @zuxiezendler @crazybunnyladysworld

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #250holyfuckthankyou #250 holy fuck thank you

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bigwriterenergy · 4 years

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DIO x reader

anonymous asked: “Hellooooo omg I’ve been waiting for requests to open! May I request DIO with a s/o who gets flustered easily, but is normally really fierce and strong”

haha i am pretty sporadic when it comes to opening the inbox ... maybe i’ll have a set time for opening? .. mm idk .. but anyway ty for the request!! :)

the recruitment of his favorite servant was not based on her beauty. although she possessed it, dio thought she’d be a better asset based on her undeniable skill and resolve within combat. even at the beginning of your interactions with the blond, there would be a small bit of respect lining his words; different from how he spoke to most women that occupied his mansion.

regardless, this is your lord dio we are talking about. his prominent sensuality is expressed openly, hardly contained by the flaunting of both feminine and masculine qualities. he smiles too sweetly. he purrs to lowly. dio hardly ever tried to speak to you with such delicious words, but when they escaped, you were entirely mush in his palm.

a comment about your choice of apparel or how beautifully your skin shines when reflecting moonlight -- offhand comments that are mostly used to manipulate and appease the party he’s speaking to. the “god” watches, ultimately surprised, as one of his best assassins become a puddle before him, based on words that lacked any of his true persuasiveness.

he’ll stare at you for quite a while after the first instance of your somewhat infantile bashfulness. though, there would be no anger. no, you just piqued his interest.

dio would be a liar if he stated that he did not find you uniquely attractive afterward. being exposed to your adorable behavior was very enlightening. it was permanently pushed to the forefront of his mind whenever you directed your attention to him. it was far too tempting to try to elicit more reactions from you.

you were a strong, dedicated ally with your own coat of beauty. a rose that had yet to be dethorned. how fun.

you immediately notice the change. his touches will linger, his voice had an added sweetness whenever he spoke to you. you were now his “bodyguard” rather than an assassin that went out to thwart the stardust crusaders.

his pretty little plaything who thought she was so tough. he saw through you.

“come -- sit with me, (y/n). allow me to hear all the thoughts that run through your mind,”

loves to just listen to you ramble and become like putty before him whenever he lays on his god-like charm particularly thick. low, longing laughter usually follows when you finally manage to close your mouth.

#sdc dio brando #dio brando x reader #jjba x reader #sfw #anonymous

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gothic-safari-clown · 3 years

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The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 18: Unstoppable

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

Word count: 2011

This chapter is really dumb and cheesy just a heads up 😂 I wanted to dabble in old school fanfic while I wrote this one I think. Idk, it’s kinda cute

El had come to hate the weekends. There was no substance to her days off now that she knew the thrills offered by the wretch of a city. Jonathan wouldn't let her run his underworld errands with him; an attempt to keep her safe from Falcone, he said. While she understood and appreciated the sentiment, the result was dreadfully long and slow weekends. They couldn't go to Arkham to supervise the project, lest they draw suspicion, and if Jonathan wouldn't take her with him to meetings, it left her with very little to do in the apartment.

Luckily, the day after her nightmare Jonathan had no reason to leave the apartment. On the other hand, he had spent his day worrying over her incessantly. Well, as much as Jonathan could "worry incessantly" in his own subdued way.

He had let her sleep in for hours, made her breakfast when she woke, and she was currently curled up on the couch next to him with the softest blanket from his linen closet. He had even let her pick the movie they were watching.

"Hey, Jonathan?"

"Mm?"

"Am I dying or something?" He looked across the couch at her, confused. "You're being really nice today. Are you still 'being me,' or am I dying?"

"Oh. Neither." He fell back into silence rather than offering the explanation that El was looking for. She waited patiently for a minute or two, giving him the opportunity to explain himself of his own volition before sitting up with a huff and pausing the TV, moving to sit next to him.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" El watched as Jonathan set his jaw firmly, releasing a long slow breath, all the while staring inscrutably at the coffee table. By the time he finally looked at her, the anticipation had made her too anxious even to admire the hue of his eyes as she normally would.

"Last night, you..." he trailed off and let out another sigh before continuing, "it made me worry. I've been thinking all day, and I'm wondering if maybe you would be better off leaving Gotham now and going somewhere without me." Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it. Her brow furrowed, and she struggled to organize her thoughts enough to argue as he spoke again. "I know you, and I know that that wasn't normal, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten you involved."

"So what?" she sputtered. "Jonathan, you got me involved, but if I didn't want to be still involved, I wouldn't be. Don't worry about me. You're not responsible for my decisions."

Her words did little to soothe him, and he leaned against the back of the couch with his head tilted all the way back to look at the ceiling. "No, I'm not, but this is clearly taking a toll on you. I just think it might be better if-"

"I understand what you're saying, but you're wrong," interrupted El. "If I were to leave now, I would just worry about you more. Without me, you're on your own here, and it's going to take a lot more than some stupid bad dream to make me abandon you. I know that you can handle all of this on your own, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to keep supporting you in whatever ways I can."

He was technically right, to an extent; it wasn't normal for a nightmare to break her like that. But the fact remained that it was only a dream, and the fact that it had immediately followed a dosing of fear toxin only served to solidify her point further. It would never have affected me like that if I hadn't insisted on a second toxin trial.

Jonathan mulled over what she said for what seemed like ages, to the point that Elianna wasn't even sure where his train of thought may have taken him. Regardless, she knew that he must have been trying to come up with some absurd reason why she should leave anyway. Deciding to let him think (and knowing that she would win this debate with this move), she pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and lifted his arm to slot herself against his side.

He looked down at her as she settled his arm around her back, only to find her already looking up at him patiently with big green eyes. Shit. He could never argue with her when she looked at him like that, and she knew it. He did his best to steel his resolve, but then she blinked at him so sweetly that he had no choice.

"Fine," he sighed, finally looking away from her. "But no more toxin. From now on, you're just helping me supervise, understood?" He felt her nod fervently and wrap her arms tight around him. How did she always manage to get under his skin so well?

"I can't believe you thought you could get rid of me that easily," she scoffed. "I'm here to stay, love. I left you behind once, and I'm not going to do it again." Jonathan was amused by the childish notion behind her words but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

He was silently glad that she had pushed against him on this particular issue. While he still believed that she would be safer away from the city, he really didn't want her to leave. She was too...important. As proven by how easily she could get him to concede just by looking at me, for fuck's sake.

"You know I would never try to get rid of you." Jonathan still faced difficulty coming to terms with her effect on him, but this time he didn't have the energy to fight it. Deep down, he knew that he had let her win, selfishly wanting her to stay. Unwilling to resist, he let his cheek rest against the top of her head. "Sometimes I might think about it, but I'm not stupid." He felt her laugh.

"Understandable." She tilted her head back to look at him, and he lifted his head from hers to mirror her gaze. A soft smile spread over her face. "One of these days, I'm going to get you to admit outright that you love me." She said smugly, undeterred by his impassive expression.

He could tell by the look on her face that she had begun speaking absentmindedly, but Jonathan found himself more focused on the conversation in his head; naturally, Scarecrow had his own opinion on what El had said.

She's got a point. We should just get it over with now.

That isn't what she means.

Sure it is! See the way she looks at us? Come ooonnn, what's the harm? If it goes south, I'll just take care of it.

You absolutely will not.

I still don't see why we shouldn't get rid of her anyway. Loose ends, Jonny. If she's dead, she can't snitch.

She isn't going to. She would have done it already, and she's never told anyone about everything else we've done; why would she start now?

Yeah, and why do you think that is? Principle? Honesty? She likes us, Jonny. If you don't take care of it now, then I will.

With that, the straw man retreated to the back of Jonathan's mind in smug silence. The ambiguity of Scarecrow's ultimatum made him nervous, as he was unsure of what Scarecrow's version of "taking care of it" might be. But Jonathan knew ultimately that his alter was actually right this time. All of the jokes, the affection, the trust, and when she looked at him the way she had done just a minute before...

It was almost terrifying to think that the woman he had held so dear for so long might harbor feelings for him, and the true rush of the unknown exhilarated him. As strange as it would be, Jonathan knew what he wanted to do and resolved on the spot to act upon it before he could talk himself back out of it as he was wont to do.

"Not verbally, necessarily," she spoke up again, "but one of these days, you're going to do something, and I'll kno-"

The rest of El's sentence was cut short by something that could not have caught her more off guard, and while some part of her seemed to process it immediately (judging by how hard her heart was beating), it took a moment for her brain to catch up.

Jonathan had interrupted her by cupping the side of her face with his free hand and, in one fluid motion, had tilted her head back more and kissed her full on the mouth ever so softly. Her mind hadn't yet finished racing with unanswered questions when her internal monologue switched abruptly to, "oh, fuck it."

At that moment, she didn't need to understand anything. By way of response, she lifted her own hand to close lightly around his wrist, keeping his hand against her face and returned the tentative kiss with one of her own.

Both of their stomachs exploded into butterflies, but for vastly different reasons. Jonathan felt a rush of relief from the reciprocation and a flutter of nervousness caused by sudden instability for the future that it implied. In the same moment, Elianna found an emotional release and a thrill caused by the same unclear future, eager to build something new, powerful even.

Whatever her motivation, when El kissed him again, Jonathan was more than eager to return the action, and all of his apprehensiveness began to melt away. It was a rare moment of clarity for him, as he found himself truly in the moment. She had kissed him. Things that had been so important to him only minutes before were suddenly irrelevant, and when El pulled away and buried her face into his neck, holding him so tight, he was all too glad to squeeze her closer.

He thought that he had never been more determined to do anything as he was to keep her safe previously, but having finally given in to the impulse that he had been repressing since their teen years, Jonathan realized his previous resolve had been trivial. This, with all of its implicit devotion attached, changed everything so drastically. Nobody would ever hurt her again; not Zsasz, not Scarecrow, not anybody.

It was a good feeling, if a bit overwhelming. Following his new theme of letting himself enjoy the things he wanted, Jonathan allowed himself to feel at ease, content. He even cracked a smile when a small voice chimed, "I told you so," from somewhere near his collarbone.

"Yes, you did." He stroked back her hair and left a lingering kiss on top of her head, and felt her delighted smile split her face as she hugged him tighter (if that was even possible).

"Now you're really not getting rid of me. You know that, right?"

"I know. That's what I wanted." El hummed happily in response, breathing in the smell of his clothes. Being wrapped up against him like this felt...right. Like this was what their entire friendship had always been leading to, and now that it had been fulfilled, nothing could stop her.

Ever at the whim to her desires, and knowing that Jonathan couldn't be relied on to do the same, El straightened back up to stand on her knees and captured him in another kiss, deeper than before. With no protest, Jonathan locked his arms securely around her waist to keep her close and responded in kind.

Everything else forgotten, the new couple passed the day away in a world of their own making, testing the limits, and exploring new possibilities. Totally focused on each other, they both forgot everything about the killing of the city, the crimes they were committing together, the hells they had been put through, all of it wiped away; with every kiss, every gentle touch, every movement erased every atrocity, past and future. The new, stronger nature of their companionship made them unstoppable.

#the mind's power over the body #Attraction To The Insane #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #Elianna Montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #scarecrow x ofc #slight au #fanfiction #multi chapter fic #scarecrow fanfic #fic series #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #tmpotb chapter 18

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randomfandomimagine · 7 years

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You’re A Jerk (Noctis x Reader)

Character: Noctis Lucis Caelum

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader

Title: You’re A Jerk

Suggested by anon:

during a fight Noctis gets angry at his s/o (who has a crush on Noct but have yet to confess) because they weren't focusing, and didn't trained as much as Noctis and the boys (idk i guess Gladio) have told them, like he's very hard on them and scold their s/o who end up feeling embarassed and guilty but then later on he make up for it?

Suggested by @wennbergbabe:

A fluffy one where Noct spends all day teaching you how to sword fight and it ends with you guys cuddling on the beach

He was late, but he was there. As attractive as usual as he walked my way.

“Sorry I’m late…” Noctis sighed, his brow furrowed.

Just that told me that his day hadn’t gone too smoothly and his duties as prince were irritating him deeply.

My boyfriend walked closer and barely even looked at me as he passed me by and went to pick up his sword. He tossed me my own wooden sword, which I immediately caught first try. I sighed as I feebly glanced at it and loosely held it, letting my arm fall at my side.

Noctis never allowed me to use real swords when we trained, allegedly too scared that we would hurt ourselves during our sparring.

As he positioned himself in his fighting stance, I knew there was something wrong. Something had upset him during his meeting, he was different that day.

There was no playful and flirtatious smile or glance as he prepared to train, there were no silly comments, no nothing.

Perhaps his duties as prince were far too great for him, perhaps he was overwhelmed and he was just fed up. Whatever the case, that was not the mood I usually saw Noct in.

Reluctantly, and hating to see him in such a mood, I acquired my own fighting stance. He didn’t even give me time to blink before he swung his sword at me.

Squeaking because of the sudden movement, I moved my weapon in a reflex to block his attack. I frowned as I stepped back, taken aback by that aggressiveness.

Our swords collided with one another, time after time, until Noctis finally managed to see a flaw in my attack as my movements were too open, and he took advantage of that by pointing his sword to my neck menacingly. He had won.

I still carried my sword in my hand, but in a real fight he would kill me before I could swing my weapon at him.

“Again” Noctis blandly said, impatiently as he retreated his sword and waited for me to get ready.

I took a deep breath, not really enjoying our training anymore, and acquiring an alert stance once more.

Noctis immediately attacked, nimbly moving and advancing as tough we were fencing. The sound of wood hitting wood echoed around the spacious room, along with our elaborated breaths and our shoes squeaking against the marble floors.

“C’mon!” Noct yelled in frustration. “Wake up, Y/N!”

I was doing my best, but I was no match for Prince Noctis himself. After all, I was just now starting to learn how to use a sword and he had known for years.

Also, he had never been so hard and demanding of me before in any of our training sessions. I was starting to regret asking him to teach me.

I gasped when Noctis pulled the same move from before, using my open movements to win the fight. Except for the fact that this time, he hit his sword against mine with so much strength that it knocked mine away from my hand.

He had also hit my hand when he did, making me yelp in pain and clutch my sore hand to my chest. Noctis was still too agitated to notice.

“Focus, Y/N!” He shouted at me, upset about my poor skills. “If this were a real fight, you’d be dead!”

“I’m learning!” I defended myself, embarrassed and slightly guilty that I couldn’t be as good as he was.

“Well, maybe you should try harder so you can finally learn!” His eyes harshly pierced me, almost disappointed. “I can’t always be there to save your ass!”

I furiously kicked the sword and gave him my best glare before angrily facing my back to him.

“You’re a jerk!” I shouted at him, storming off outside the building.

I sat at the long staircase outside the palace, trying to get over the scene. I was more sad than angry, to be fair. I only stared at my reddened hand and wondered what would happen between Noctis and me after that.

I was actually waiting for him to come back and apologize, and even then I would play hard to get. He hard embarrassed me and hurt my feelings and wouldn’t get away with it so easily.

Trying to see his perspective, I could understand that being a prince was stressful. That he could sometimes lose his temper and burst like he did.

But that didn’t mean he could leash out on me like that when I had nothing to do with it!

“Hey” Noct’s voice said behind me, just as he sat down next to me.

I didn’t reply nor look at him, pretending he wasn’t even there. I was so mad, he had no right to act like that. Even if he was angry because of something, it didn’t involve me and he shouldn’t have taken it out on me.

“How’s your hand?” At least he had noticed after all.

I wanted to make him feel bad and say ‘it hurts’ but I resolved to keep giving him the silent treatment.

Noctis leaned forward slightly to take a look at it himself. I caught a glimpse of a wince in his face when he noticed the area between my thumb and my index finger had reddened there where it hit me.

“Sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to hit you” The guilt was tangible in his voice as he spoke slowly and cautiously. “I just wanted to disarm you and…”

I remained strong in my silence, not even bothering to look at him still.

“I’m a jerk…” He sighed, allegedly annoyed with himself.

I still didn’t reply, but I vehemently nodded to let him know he was right.

“I was angry because of that meeting, and watching how you still aren’t ready…” Noctis made a pause in which I supposed he was trying to find the right words to express himself. “I just want you to learn because I’m so scared that something might happen to you”

Finally, I looked over at him in spite of myself.

His expression was one of regret and filled with apology. His eyebrows knitted together, a small pout in his lips and a sad expression in his blue eyes.

I wanted to forgive him, but I also wanted him to learn the lesson. So I stood up and started to walk away.

“Look” Noctis quickly held me back by my wrist not to hurt my hand. “I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again”

I didn’t move, standing completely still. Truth was, I didn’t know what to do anymore, how to act. Noctis was the one that kept trying instead.

I allowed him to place a hand in my waist, setting it there and slowly sticking closer to him until our sides were resting against each other. His prudent and cautious gestures told me that he was analyzing my reactions first.

Seeing as I didn’t really object, he leaned to the side and placed an arm under my knees. I frowned, wondering what he was doing, and opened my mouth to ask.

Before I could, whoever, he had swept me up into his arms so he was carrying me bridal style. I found it an endearing gesture, until I remembered something.

“Noct, what are you doing?” I exclaimed, holding on to him the best I could. “Your-your leg! Noct, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

I knew that ever since he was younger his leg was sensitive due to an old injury, which explained why he walked funny. And also why he couldn’t carry too much weight.

Staring at him, I analyzed his expression as I absently wrapped my arms around his neck to have some support. His face was an expressionless one, mysterious and baffling.

“Noct!” I shook him, earning a glance from him at last. “Put me down, why are you carrying me?! Your leg-“

“There are more important things than that, Y/N” He said, with the most loving glance he had ever given me. Which was saying something. “And you are one of them, one of the most important things to me. Now shut up”

Even though I was nibbling on my bottom lip, trying not to melt at the romantic statement, I shook my head in frustration.

He could be so… so… ugh! That boy, he got on my nerves as much as he made me fall in love with him.

I knew he was so pigheaded that he wouldn’t put me down until we did. He was determined to show that he cared more about me than himself in that silly but romantic gesture that would probably hurt his leg a little.

Resigning myself to be carried by him, I sighed and rested my forehead against his cheek. Noctis leaned into the touch as well.

He took us both back inside and only put me down once we were back at the spot we were in before, carefully putting me to my feet and lovingly staring at me. We were back where we had been sparring and I had stormed off from.

Once we were both standing, facing each other with matching questioning looks, my boyfriend piped up.

“I’m sorry” His hands sneakily grabbed mine, moving finger by finger until they completely wrapped my own. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that”

“You must have been really fed up with that meeting to get so angry” I frowned, trying to put myself in his shoes and allowing myself to forgive him at last.

I knew how much Noct struggled with his royal duties, how much he hated them sometimes. I was still a little angry at him, but I understood his situation.

“That’s no excuse” He held my glance as he shook his head in disagreement. “You should always be treated like the princess you are to me”

Chuckling a bit, I pecked his cheek tenderly before resting my head on his shoulder.

“That’s right” I paused for a moment, yet I bent down in spite of myself to pick up my sword. “C’mon, let’s continue”

“No we won’t” Before my hand could touch it, Noct’s got in the way and held me instead. “We’re gonna take a break, you’ve earned it”

I sweetly smiled at him, intertwining our fingers and letting him take me to the other side of the room. There, he casually plopped down on the floor and tugged at my hand so I did too.

Not even giving me time to get comfortable, he had already wrapped his arms around me as soon as my butt touched the floor.

“See?” Affectionately and lazily, he nuzzled his nose in my neck. “This is much better”

Gingerly and charmingly, he took my sore hand and lay the softest and lightest kiss on the reddened spot that sent butterflies to my stomach.

“I love you, Noct” I tenderly caressed his hair, also leaning my head on his.

“Of course you do” He simply replied, and I could picture how a smirk grew on his lips even if I couldn’t see it.

“You’re a jerk” I had to laugh, no traces of anger or hurt in my voice that time.

“I love you too, Y/N”

We spent the rest of the afternoon sitting down on the floor of the training room, cuddling and chatting. It was the best time we spent in that room ever.

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