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iliektehhaxs · 6 months

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A Commander and His Second

“Cidolfus Telamon, Lord Commander of the Royal Waloeder Army.” He introduces himself, a smile upon his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” His lips greet your skin tenderly, a gentle caress. You nod in his direction. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Commander.” You pray he doesn’t sense how tense you are. “Oh, none of that,” He replies cheekily, head tilted in amusement. “My enemies call me the Lord Commander. You may call me Cid.” Feeling bold, you ask. “And who is allowed to call you Cid?” He lets your hand go and rises from his spot, arm slung over his sword once more. With a grin, he replies. “You’re a smart woman, I’ll let you figure that out.”

Pairing: Cidolfus Telamon/Reader Rating: Explicit, MDNI Word Count: 9.8k Words Warnings: Smut, like really really long smut. Read On AO3! Author's Note: Let's pretend like I haven't been MIA for two months! I've had this in the backlogs for a while and I wanted to try and make this the best it could be, but then life stuff happened. Hopefully the quality made the wait time worth it!

You first met The Lord Commander within the hallowed stone walls of Waloed.

Lord Tharmr expected—no, demanded absolute loyalty and perfection from all his soldiers, you being no exception; Those he found promising were offered a place beneath his wing, a status sought after by the many men and women of the Waloed army. It is after many years of servitude that your actions caught the eye of the war-hungry king, making a name for yourself as an effective assassin.

Silent as she is deadly, the bane of any who dare become an enemy of the state. A tool, and an effective one at that. It is after many years of servitude that your actions caught the eye of the war-hungry king.

An invitation was sent to your quarters, a private meeting amongst his personal garrison. Finely decorated as it was, you knew the letter for its true nature; Recruitment to become one of his personal men.

It is at that same meeting, surrounded by others of equal rank, that you meet the Dominant of Levin for the first time.

You enter the room and bow at the sight of King Tharmr, head bent until you hear his command to rise. Only then do you see Lord Barnabas in all his glory, the very image of absolute power.

Beside him is another man, dark hair and even darker clothing. The Lord Commander, you assume. When he turns to look at you suddenly you’re nervous for a whole new reason.

He’s handsome, unfairly so.

An arm slung lazily around the two swords at his hip, a charming smile stretched across his face. Your eyes trail down to the exposed valley of his chest beneath his tunic, and it takes every bit of willpower to force yourself to behave.

Oh no.

“So, you’re the young lady who’s caught the attention of our king.” He asks confidently. You feel yourself swoon.

Oh, he even sounds divine, gruff and husky in the best kind of way. You could listen to him speak for hours.

Your body visibly stiffens, an unfamiliar feeling in your chest blossoming at the sight of his pretty green eyes, the same eyes that move quickly against your figure from afar.

You feel like a young girl again, skittish, naive. You almost forget where you are.

Your attention is only brought back by the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate. With a gentle grasp, he takes your hand in his and places a kiss against it.

Fuck me, this is seriously a problem.

“Cidolfus Telamon, Lord Commander of the Royal Waloeder Army.” He introduces himself, a smile upon his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

His lips greet your skin tenderly, a gentle caress.

You nod in his direction. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Commander.” You pray he doesn’t sense how tense you are.

“Oh, none of that,” He replies cheekily, head tilted in amusement. “My enemies call me the Lord Commander. You may call me Cid.”

Feeling bold, you ask. “And who is allowed to call you Cid?”

He lets your hand go and rises from his spot, arm slung over his sword once more. With a grin, he replies. “You’re a smart woman, I’ll let you figure that out.”

You’re frozen in place, not daring to move in the presence of His Highness. You listen, but your attention is elsewhere, your hand still burning from his touch. You chance a glance in his direction and don’t miss the not-so-subtle wink he sends your way.

Gods above, if I don’t meet my end on the battlefield, he will be the death of me.

You would’ve hoped that your schoolgirl crush would end the moment Cid became your commander.

It did not. If anything, it only became more intense the longer you spent time together.

Eikon of Ramuh, you had initially thought that his high ranking was simply due to his status as a Dominant, but longer exposure proved that wasn’t the case. He did wield the power of the gods, but Cid proved himself a masterful tactician as well as a danger on the battlefield, perhaps through Ramuh’s blessing or his own experience. A keen eye able to discern even the most minute weaknesses in the worst of situations, that was the Lord Commander.

But in the same breath you can admit that a good portion of “strategic escapes” are anything but. Gods know how many times you’ve had to bail him out of a tough spot only to have him look up at you with that radiant smile and forget why you were even mad at him in the first place.

The man had an aura about him that could only be described as magnetizing. Strong, not only due to his talents as a Dominant but to his compassion, full of a love for life and knowledge you haven’t seen in ages, if ever.

It also didn’t help that he had a visage blessed by the founder; Moss green eyes full of vigor that could bring you to your knees, and threatened to do so every time he glanced in your direction. In the back of your mind you knew that your feelings had no place on the battlefield, but you didn’t care. For once you let yourself be dictated by emotion, no matter how stupid of an idea it may be.

It was maddening, and yet you invited it all the same.

“Someone’s off with the faeries.” A deep voice mutters behind you. “What’s got your head in the clouds, little miss?” Ah, speak of the devil. Cid teases you from his little spot in the corner as he supervises the new recruits. You stand next to him, broken from your trance. “Am I not allowed to think sir?” You answer sarcastically.

This banter, this back and forth cat and mouse game was familiar, a battle of wits neither of you have been willing to back out from in all the time you’ve known each other. He shakes his head with a grin, turning his attention away from the soldiers in training and onto you. “You’re thinking so hard I’m afraid you might hurt yourself.” He speaks, feigning concern.

“Nothing wrong with some quiet contemplation,” you add with a shrug. “You should try it sometime, maybe then your escape plans won’t always go so pear-shaped.”

He scoffs, that damned grin still painted on his features. “A bit of excitement never hurt. Besides,” he places a hand on your shoulder. “I keep you on your toes.” You look up at him accusatory. “I cannot begin to count the amount of times I nearly had an intimate relationship with the business end of a sword thanks to you.” He lets out a throaty laugh at your annoyance. “Ah, nearly being the operative word—ow!”

He rubs his arm where you’ve punched him, the faintest hint of a glare marring your features. “At least think before you run headfirst into danger!” You hiss. “I swear, if I wasn’t at your side you would’ve died by now.” He hums in agreement. “And I thank the gods every day that you are.”

The same hand on your shoulder squeezes a bit, and you do well to ignore the butterflies in your chest. “In any case,” he waves away your complaints with a shrug. “You love me. If you didn't, you would’ve asked to leave by now.” He’s right, but you’d rather him not know that. So you cross your arms in defiance, returning to watch the poor soldiers being used and abused. “I just enjoy watching the shitshow, that’s all.” The faintest smile graces your features. If you were paying attention, you would see that same smile mirrored on Cid’s as well.

“So? Your opinion?” You gesture to the men-in-training vaguely. Soldiers who were hoping to garner the good graces of the king. “Sloppy and uninspiring, I fear.” He watches as a man brings his opponent to his knees, lauding over his own victory. “No one here has that spark about them, not like you…” His voice trails off in remembrance. “...Now that was exciting.” It’s easy enough to know what he’s thinking about, you being unable to forget it as well. The day of your “recruitment”. Moving through endless bolts of levin, forced to dodge in an enclosed arena while also evading Cid’s masterful swordplay, a task difficult enough without being under the king's scrutiny. Watching, waiting for any mistake on your part. But his opinion didn’t register to you at the moment, considering all you could think of was how handsome Cid looked mid-battle. That, and the trail of magic nearly connecting with your face. It’s a miracle you didn’t meet your end that day. A huff of air escapes you. “Exciting isn’t the word I’d use.” He laughs, leaning back as he does. “And what word would you use?” “Something more appropriate for nearly dying, I suppose.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. “You could have killed me, so forgive me if I don’t sound very excited.” “Oh please,” he fixes you with an easy smile. “I wouldn’t have killed you. You’re too pretty for that.” Your eyebrows jump in surprise. “What did you just—” He’s already walking away from you by the time you turn your head. He looks behind him with that godsdamned smirk before winking at you and turning the corner, returning to coach the amateur soldiers. “Smug bastard…” You mumble to yourself, ignoring the heat rising in your chest. You’re starting to wonder if it’s even a crush at this point.

The tavern is filled to the brim with battle-weary soldiers, hoping to be comforted by one of many of the dames serving their drinks, Loud, raucous jeers of orders fill your ears, the young women struggling to keep up with both their constant cries and wandering eyes.

“Barmaid, more ale!” One yells, his body slowly leaning off his stool.

“Come ‘ere, promise I won’t bite!” Another says to a passing waitress, too inebriated to try to hide how his eyes are glued to her body.

You don’t usually go to after-battle celebrations, specifically for this reason. Too loud, too rowdy, too wild. Liquor brings out the worst in people, and you’d rather not be there to see it.

Of course, the only way you would be caught dead in here is because a certain dark-haired commander had invited you.

“Come now, you always disappear the moment it’s time to celebrate,” he complains, gesturing to the bar in front of you. “Loosen up for a change, promise you’ll like it.”

He senses the incoming argument and before you can let a word out he quickly follows up with: “And if you don’t, I’ll clean the chocobo stables for a week.”

A week is a very long time, so you relented. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol yet but Cid already finished his first cup, showing no signs of stopping yet.

He watches your face contort at the debauchery before you, sarcasm evident in his voice. “The pride and joy of the Royal Waloeder Army, ladies and gentlemen.”

You watch a soldier fall flat on his ass, the surrounding tables barking in laughter. “That’s a stretch.”

He puts his cup down to look at you. “They’ve had a long day, how else to blow off some steam?”

“I’m not blaming them, far from it actually, it’s just…”

You search for the words, scanning the room full of people. “...this is not my idea of relaxation.”

“And what is?”

“Not this, that’s for sure.”

A hand falls to your shoulder, shaking you a bit. “Like I said, you need to loosen up. I didn’t invite you just for the hell of it.”

The confusion on your face is evident. “Why did you invite me then?”

He takes another swig before replying. “You’re too stiff. You work yourself to exhaustion every day and expect it not to catch up with you. Insomnia, I take it?”

You eye him suspiciously. He takes your silence as an invitation to continue. “I’ve heard the soldiers gossip about you entering the training rooms late at night. And the bags under your eyes are telling.”

“And you invited me here to watch over me. What was your plan, hope the atmosphere and alcohol would tire me out?” You finish, settling further into the seats.

“You know me so well.”

“Well I appreciate the sentiment,” you sigh, staring at the ceiling. “But I don’t need your help.”

The thud of metal on wood, Cid lowers his cup as he speaks. “If there’s anything you learn from this old sack of bones, it’s that life cannot be all work, you’ll send yourself into an early grave like that.”

He waves a young girl over, drops a couple Gil in her hands and has her return with a full cup of ale. He pushes the cup towards you expectantly.

“Drink, it’s on me. I can’t stand the sight of my right hand ready to keel over at a moment's notice.”

The amber liquid stares back at you accusatory. He’s right, you’ve been having trouble sleeping as of late, throwing yourself into training until your mind can no longer distract you and your body is forced to succumb to sleep. A symptom of your occupation, and based on the somber note in his tone, one he is all too familiar with.

Your fingers curl around the handle. “I didn’t know you paid that close attention to me.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

There’s a silent question hanging in the air, one you’d rather not acknowledge sober. Instead of answering, you put your lips to the cup and drink. The liquid burns on the way down, and you force yourself to swallow, the sound of his laughter ringing in your ears as you gag. “I take it you’re not a drinker then.” He chuckles, watching as you recover from the sharp taste. “And you’ve been drinking that all night?!” You exclaim, interrupting yourself with a cough. “It’s an acquired taste.”

(That same “acquired taste” left you dizzy after a pint, prompting Cid to carry you back to your chambers, much to your disdain. While the hangover was awful, the sight of Waloed’s Lord Commander working the stables was worth the pain.)

“Do you believe in fate?” You two were surrounded by miles of forest, the small campfire in front of you being your only source of light in the dark. A successfully completed mission meant that you two could afford to relax a bit after days of travel and battle, but it also meant you had to deal with the aftermath. It was a particularly hard mission as well, aches in places you weren’t even aware existed. Currently nursing a busted lip and several bruises that are sure to darken by dawn, your mood is less than friendly at the moment. “I swear Cid, if this is another one of your awful jokes I am not in the mood—” “It’s not like that, I’m serious,” He chuckles, repeating himself. “Do you believe in fate?” You look at him quizzically, eyebrows raised. “Surprisingly philosophical of you Cidolfus, what’s brought this on?” “Just answer the bloody question.” He sighs, slightly fed up. “Okay okay! No need to get your panties in a twist,” You sit up slightly, contemplating his question. “It’s tough to say, but I believe that your lot in life is practically impossible to change sometimes. I mean, think of the bearers who are born into a life of servitude just because they can use magic without crystals. Not exactly like they can change that.” He nods in agreement, taking a sip from his canteen. “Spoken like a scholar.” It’s quiet for a moment, and then he breaks the silence. “If that’s the case, do you believe our death is predetermined as well?” His words snap you out of your own thoughts. This is all rather unusual coming from a man who regularly takes life one day at a time. “I’m going to be honest with you Cid, this line of questioning is very concerning,” You say gently, eyeing him up and down. “Is everything alright?” He finds humor in your hesitant tone, but continues otherwise. “No, it’s not. Or rather, this world is not.”

You watch as he speaks, the somber look a far cry from his otherwise dauntless demeanor. “Thousands of men and women die, either on the battlefield or working themselves to death trying to better their lives, and in the end it means nothing.”

He raises his hand, the faintest crackle of electricity in the air making your hair stand on end. “Take me for example. A mercenary blessed by the Mothercrystals, the power of Ramuh at my fingertips and even still I’m a slave to the wheel of fate.”

The violet hue leaves his fingertips just as quickly as it came. “Such is life, I suppose. She’s a cruel mistress.” You don’t miss the creeping of white exposed under his jacket and it makes your heart clench, proof of his burden. “That she is, Cid, that she is.” “What if it didn’t have to be?” Now your attention is grabbed. “What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying,” he leans closer to you, whispering. “What if it didn’t have to be this way? A world where people could be free to die on their own terms, not for the wills of their masters but for themselves?” You have a feeling that you know what he’s implying, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions. “Exactly what do you have in mind, Cid?” A pause, almost like he’s trying to find the words, and then he speaks. “Changing the status quo. A revolution.” Your eyes widen and watch for any signs of jest. They widen further when you find none. “Titan’s tits,” You lean in, voice hushed. “You’re not joking, are you?” He takes another swig from his canteen. “As serious as the sky is blue.” Your eyes dart around, suddenly fearful of any possible prying eyes despite the fact you’re surrounded by nothing but grass and trees.

“What you’re talking about is a crime!” You hiss. “You’d be sent to the gallows for even mentioning the idea, are you insane?”

“Maybe,” he grins, the kind of smile you know is only followed by trouble. “But is it really crazy to want a better life?” “When it results in a one-way trip to the headsman, yes!” He leans back and fishes for a cigar, placing it between his lips and lighting it with a spark from his fingertips. “And yet, I still want to try. Who knows, maybe I am insane.” He finishes with a chuckle. There’s a stillness in the air, the quiet sounds of nature interrupted by Cid exhaling a puff of smoke. “The blight takes more and more of our land each day, thousands of bearers die simply because they were born different, and Dominants are used as weapons and discarded the moment they are no longer useful. Is this the world you want to live in?” Cidolfus is a smart man, an idealist in the best kind of way; The kind of way that could get him killed. He’s as stubborn as he is intelligent, and you can’t help but admire him for it. If it was anyone else you’d call them a hack, but it’s Cid, if there ever was a person who could change the world, it would be him. You reach out, placing your hand over his own, the smallest gesture of comfort. “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you? You’re going to leave.” It wasn’t a question. He nods in response. “I am.” Just thinking about it sends a jolt of despair through you. “If you do, you'll be hunted until the day you die. You’d be fighting for something that isn’t even guaranteed—” “And what’s the other option?” He interrupts. “Sitting and waiting for a peace that will never come?” He shakes his head defiantly. “I’ve seen what this world has to offer, and I’m tired of it. And if I have to give my life so that others can die for themselves, I’m willing to take that risk.” He says between another exhale. Your fingers rack through your hair, not quite able to process all that’s happened. “Who else knows about this little plan of yours?” The solemn look he gives tells you all. “Just you. I trust you, and I want you by my side.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Cid this vulnerable, a man known to be the picture of confidence now sits before you uncertain. He waits for your response with baited breath. You’d be the first to admit that he’s right, about everything, but to become a deserter…it scares you. More than you care to admit. “Cid, this is far, far too much to ask of me,” You speak, voice wavering. “We’re friends unto the grave, but not if you’re purposely trying to dig it…”

That practiced cold exterior is crumbling, revealing the scared women you’ve tried to hide all these years. Cid can see the fear written on your face, and holds your hand in his, bringing it towards him. His touch brings you back to reality, but you can still feel your heart pounding in your chest. “I know that I’m asking a lot.” He runs a gloved thumb against your skin. “Know that if you decline I won’t think any less of you. But I’m hoping you’ll understand.” Your breath is stuck in your chest, caught between two choices. You could either report Cid, reveal his plans to the king and sentence him to a punishment you couldn’t even begin to imagine, or you could leave with him in search of that better life he dreamed of, assuming it does exist. That scared little girl, who spent days on the road with no one to help her and only the little coin in her pocket, who butchered men to fill her stomach, what would she have said? If she had the opportunity, would she have taken fate into her own hands? The answer was obvious, but it didn’t make it any easier to say. As your answer leaves your lips, his eyes light up with a joy you’re almost certain could put the Mothercrystals to shame. “Well, I did swear an oath to die by your side. I suppose this will do as well.”

By some bloody miracle it worked. Perhaps not as Cid said it would, but through no little effort you two officially became deserters of the Royal Waloeder Army.

You traveled by his side, freeing bearers across the far-flung corners of Valisthea. It was hard in the beginning, finding people to recruit to the cause. At first they were confused, mistaking you for bandits until you explained that you were, in fact, here to free them. Many thought Cid was a mad man, and to some extent you did too, but that didn’t stop him, if anything it only fueled his desire for success.

Every person freed was a step forward, no matter how small a step it may have been. One volunteer turned into two, which turned into four, and so on and so forth until you two had managed to garner yourself a small company of those you had helped one way or another. Some were bearers, and some just needed a fresh start, but all of them needed a home and that’s what you specialized in. Soon enough it became evident that a base of operations was needed. The location was Cid’s idea of course, right in the heart of the Deadlands, where no one would go searching for a couple of missing bearers. Inside a large fallen ruin was the beginnings of something grand, and as more and more of the exploited populated the area, the residents gave it a name; The Hideaway. A private sanctuary for bearers to live their lives as they see fit, and just like your old army days Cid led the charge, with you as his second-in-command. It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t honest work, but it felt good. After every grueling rescue mission, when the stench of blood and dirt settled, you could watch the faces of the newly liberated light up with joy and it made your efforts worth it. And when you two were done, a drink would be shared in celebration of a job well done. The slam of your cup against the table is barely heard over the sounds of merriment in the bar, Martha works tirelessly behind the counter on everyone’s orders, the bar packed with old friends and new ones alike. You sit with Cid in one of the quieter corners of the tavern, swaying to the sounds of cheering and song. A familiar dizziness washes over you. “I think that’s enough for me tonight.” you say, placing your glass down.

He chuckles softly beside you, his cup nearly finished. “All these years and you still can’t hold your ale?” “As opposed to you,” You giggle, feeling just the slightest bit more bold. “You drink like a fish!” Not quite drunk, but not sober either. Your head feels just the slightest bit heavy and before you know it you’re fully slumped onto Cid’s shoulder. A dopey grin is painted on your face, either from the alcohol or being this close, you can’t quite tell. He smells of metal and smoke, a constant reminder of his vice. Gods, he’s so fucking warm.

“Enjoying yourself down there?” He teases. His arm snakes around your waist to keep you upright, your body lighting aflame with just a touch. “Mmmm,” you purr, pushing yourself further into his side. “Gimme a couple more minutes like this and I’ll tell you.” He laughs at that, amused at how completely relaxed you are. “You certainly look the part.” Everything is so nice, so freeing. Everything melts away until it’s just you and Cid, and nothing else. Cid finally places his glass to the table, eyeing you up and down for a moment. His gaze softens at your form, focused on you and you alone. You bite your lip, attempting and failing to suppress a smile. “What are you looking at?” He returns the gesture, giving you a pointed look. “I’m looking at you, dear.” The nickname never ceases to fluster you, but something about the way he says it now has you rooted in place, intimate in a way you haven’t heard from him before. You hope you’re blessed to hear it again.

Before you know it he’s holding your chin between two fingers, raising your head to look up at him. Were his eyes always this inviting? You can’t seem to pull yourself away. You’re not sure if you want to. His thumb brushes the skin of your cheek and you tilt your head into the gesture, as if to ask for more. He lets out a shaky breath in response. Leaning in, closer and closer. His lips look so nice. You wonder if they feel as good as they look. “You…” He whispers, closes his eyes before stopping whatever thought he had with a shake of his head. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you home.”

As if awoken from a spell, your senses return to you. “‘M not drunk.” “A blind man could tell that you’re plastered.” He muses. “I’m a grown woman!” You whine in defiance. “Do I look like I need a bloody babysitter—!” Cid drops a bag of gil on the table and your view is suddenly much higher than before. On further inspection you’re in someone’s arms. Cid’s arms.

“You can get angry at me in the morning.” He grins, before stepping outside. Any protest you had dies on your tongue as he carries you out of the tavern and into the nearest inn.

It’s been a week since that night, and your mind still recalls how gently he raised you in his arms. Restless, you close your eyes at night and without fail, your thoughts wander to him.

Visions of skin on skin, hands touching where they shouldn’t, kisses that steal your breath and your sanity all at once—

You cannot live like this. It’s why you quickly left your room and made your way to the practice dummies as a hopeful distraction.

It helps a little bit, but just barely. The stone walls and empty air help clear your mind for a moment, until that peace is interrupted.

“Thought you kicked this bad habit ages ago.” You whip around, poised to strike. The motion is quickly stopped by a hand on your wrist, followed by another at your shoulder. “Calm down my dear, it’s just me.” A familiar deep voice rumbles beside your ear. “Surprised it took you this long to notice, getting sloppy are we?” You want to reply, but his chest against your back turns your tongue into lead. You tilt your head back to find Cid looking rather amused. “What are you doing here?” You muster, eyes locking onto him. He gives you a charming smile in return.

“Gav mentioned he heard someone in the training rooms, thought I would check it out.” He purrs beside you. “Didn’t expect to find you here though. Still having trouble sleeping?”

Your body relaxes, but Cid still holds you close. Uncertain if you should pull away, but he makes no move to do so and neither do you. “I thought everyone would be asleep by now…” You trail off, acutely aware of how his thumb rubs circles against the exposed skin of your shoulder. He shakes his head. “Couldn’t sleep either. Was hoping to tire myself out on the dummy, but since you’re here now…”

A devious grin stretches across his face. “Suppose you could help me?” You nod wordlessly, missing the heat of his body as he walks away from you. He gestures towards you. “After you, my dear.”

You hold your hands in front of you, rolling your eyes as you take a step forward. “Such a gentleman.” A subtle smile passes between you two and you begin, falling into a familiar rhythm. Foot forward, hands at your front, just like you were taught.

You two often sparred as part of your training, but there was something different this time, a lingering tension that filled the air.

Maybe it was the setting, closed off from the rest of the world, where it was just you and him in a confined space.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, your heart beating in time to the movement of your fists.

Maybe it was the flashbacks of your less-than-appropriate dreams that plagued you with each jab. Or maybe it was the way he stared at you like a beast with each move.

It’s all training of course but his hungry gaze, his jab at your awareness before, it all makes you feel like you’re back in that throne room again trying to prove your worth. As you dodge another blow his smile widens and in turn, so does yours, a dance of fists between two opponents.

Eventually you get the upper hand and wrestle him to the ground, your full body weight against his.

The image of Cid below you is alluring. Hair disheveled, chest heaving, docile beneath your own body as your hands pin him to the floor. “Who’s getting sloppy now? Perhaps your age is catching up to you.” You tease him.

“Ah, you never cease to amaze me.” He grins below you, not making any attempt to release himself from your hold. “Seems like you’ve defeated me this time.”

“Why doesn’t it feel like I did?” You huff in response. You can feel his wrists beneath your palm, relaxed and pliant. You give them a squeeze and his smile widens. “Who knows? Maybe I just wanted to look at you.”

You force yourself to ignore how deep his voice gets as he speaks.

Not one to back down from a challenge you reply. “Gaze as long as you wish, I don’t mind.”

A grunt, and suddenly your grip on his arms is pried apart. He surges forward, his newly freed arms snaking around your torso, bringing you even further onto his lap. The smile on his face is impish. “What was the first rule I ever taught you in battle?” “Never let your guard down.” You recite. But you always seem to do so around him.

He nods, pleased with your answer. “That’s twice now i’ve caught you by surprise tonight, mind telling me what’s gotten you so distracted as of late?” You do. You with your stupid jokes and pretty eyes and your smooth voice— “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He raises an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

You try to wiggle out of his hold with no avail. If anything the attempt only amuses him even further. He hums, his free arm tapping against his chin as if he’s thinking. “You won’t mind if I wager a guess, would you?” You’re already trapped, it’s not like you could stop him anyway. “Ask away.” “It wouldn’t happen to be about me, would it?” Oh, so this is what death feels like. Cid laughs upon witnessing your wide eyes, the sound echoing in your ears. “Well now, that seems to be one mystery solved.”

You want to deny it, but every attempt is met with only half-finished sentences and incoherent words. “I—I mean, that’s not exactly—”

He watches you from lidded eyes, a fond smile on his face. A finger against your lips silences you, trailing down, down, down, until you can feel his hand against the side of your neck, caressing. “You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed.” Your brain turns to mush. You turn your eyes away but his hand gently brings you back towards him, thumb reaching out to draw circles against your cheek.

“I never took you to be the shy kind,” he says, holding you in place. “Come now, look at me.”

You chance a glance at him, expecting some sort of mockery but you’re met with a gaze full of adoration.

“There she is,” he breathes. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t need to hide herself.” You lay your hands flat against his chest, his heart beating faintly underneath it. “Do you mean that?” A nod. “Every word.” There was a growing heat pooling inside you. “If this is some kind of joke—” “About you?” He says, leaning forward. “I’d never dare.”

The atmosphere suddenly intensifies, nearly suffocating. He looks at you with those moss green eyes and it all makes sense now. He planned this. This meeting was not an accident. You feel like an idiot.

“How long?” You ask, settling into his arms.

Chest to chest, you can feel the soft rumble of his voice move through you. He hesitates for a moment, staring at your lips before they return to your face. “I want to be modest, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want you since the moment I saw you.”

He noses at your cheek, just barely brushing at your face. You chase the feeling of his stubble, closer and closer, the faint smell of nicotine filling your nose with each breath.

The tension that had once been playful had evolved into something undeniable, something that demanded exploration. Uncertainty crackles in the air, weighs heavy on your chest the longer the two of you wait.

An impasse. An invitation. You let out a shaky breath, unaware that you were holding it. “Fucking hell Cid—” “Gods,” He growls, hands splayed possessively against your back. “Say my name again, just like that—”

So you do, his eyes darkening when your hand rests on his exposed chest. You’re not quite sure who moved in first, but in that moment you found out what his lips felt like against yours and you wondered how you had lived with anything less up until that point. The unrestrained drag of his lips against your own remind you of the very same levin he commands on the battlefield; Calculated and forceful, unyielding in its ability to bring you apart. The glide of his hands at your sides serve to put you back together again with a practiced ease.

A rush of emotions grips you tight, taut. A sense of longing, followed by an increasing want, a need to be closer than you’ve ever been with another man. You feel yourself coming undone in his embrace, every touch leaving you aching for more, greed seeping from your very being. “Cid—” You beg, holding onto the front of his shirt like a lifeline. Any other time you’d laugh at yourself for your desperation but right now you can’t bring yourself to care. His timbre echoes between your bodies, breathless as he mumbles against you. “I know darling, I know,” He gasps, pushing you impossibly close, his lips buried against your neck. “But not here, you can make it back to my quarters can’t you?” You nearly tell him no, that you’ll die if you don’t feel his touch right this moment, but what little sense you have left lets you nod your head as he drags you back to his room hurriedly, neither of you giving care towards being subtle in the slightest. The moment you walk through the entrance of his bedchambers he doesn’t hesitate to press himself behind you, keeping you in place with a hand around your front. An airy laugh escapes you, his lips burning a trail against your exposed skin as he turns you around, pushing you against the nearest wall roughly. “What’s so funny?” He mumbles, slotting his pelvis against yours. His hands continue to explore your body excitedly, never stopping. “Liked you too, Cid—” A moan leaves your lips, hips grinding against each other. “Liked you, for a while—could’ve been doing this the whole time.” “I figured—thought you were too pretty for me,” He whispers against your lips. “Didn’t think you’d want someone like me—” You scoff. “Me? Too pretty for you?” Your hands cradle his face, foreheads touching. “You’re an idiot.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes full of tenderness. “I’m your idiot.”

It’s sweet, far too sweet for your current position. The words pierce your heart with striking accuracy. My idiot indeed. In this moment of serenity you stare up at him, doe-eyed, saccharine. “Do you want to know a secret?” His hands are firm against your hips, lightly squeezing. “By all means, do tell.” You gently turn his head, whispering coyly into his ear. “If you had asked, I would’ve let you fuck me the first day we met.” A range of emotions flash across his face. You think it’s the first time you’ve seen Cid so awestruck. It’s also the first time you’ve seen him so hungry. “By the Gods—” He growls, his hands moving again with renewed vigor. “You’ll kill me woman, you know that? Can’t tell me shit like that or I’ll go mad—”

You feel it, the shift in the air, the way Cid pulls you flush against him and grinds himself against your thigh, a promise of things to come.

“I mean it,” You gasp, tugging his shirt away from his body. “Would let you take me on his majesty’s throne if you wished it.” “Fucking hell woman—” Everything moves by in a blur, a mess of lost clothes and lost sanity. You’re not quite sure when you ended up on the bed, but far be it from you to complain.

He stands above you, a man possessed. You lie beneath him, equally as desperate. It’s unlike your years before, chancing glances at Cid during training in hopes he didn’t see. No, It’s here you can fully appreciate him in all his glory, a stature refined from years of combat, the occasional faded lines from various encounters that only enhance his natural beauty. Spots of white creep up his forearm, a sight he tries to hide behind his back before you grab his wrist, hold him there and watch his eyes soften when you trace invisible shapes into the marbled skin.

There’s a look shared between you and he understands, doesn’t resist when your fingers move higher until they meet the separation between skin and stone.

“Have I ever told you you’re beautiful?”

He chuckles at that, deep and whimsical. “You could stand to say it more.”

He sucks in a breath as your hands reach to trace his abs, the hard plane of muscles rippling under your touch.

He grabs your wandering hands, keeping it still as he speaks. “Why, see something you like?”

You nod, your nails lightly scratching at his skin to incite the most beautiful reaction from him, eyes fluttering shut. “I do.”

You ogle him shamelessly, as he does to you. You don’t miss how his eyes are glued to your legs. “Been waiting for this for a long time,” His palms gently run against your thighs. “Be good and let me see you.” Your legs open under his guidance, a sinful noise spilling from his lips. His eyes never leave your body for a second, as if memorizing every dip and fold before he comes closer, moves in until you can feel his breath fanning across your skin. You feel exposed under his gaze, moving to close your legs before a hand stops them, stern looking at you with disappointment. “No need to be shy, I’ll take good care of you.” A kiss to your inner thigh has you breathing just that bit heavier. “Let me do all the work, yeah? Just lay back and enjoy yourself.” He finishes with a wink before removing your underwear, fully exposing you to his watchful eyes. Laid bare, vulnerable, he groans at the sight of you spread open for him, and only him. Reverence in his embrace, he holds you firmly as he speaks, sings praise between your legs before he’s even had a taste.

“Better than I could have imagined,” He groans, hands splayed possessively on your legs. “Could stay here for the rest of my life, just like this—”

The bed dips under his weight, tracing his fingers everywhere except where you need them.

He takes his time, admiring the mess you’ve made of yourself with bated breath. Teeth nibble at the soft flesh of your thighs, your squirming body held in place as he leaves his mark upon them, gazing at the reddening skin in fondness before repeating the cycle all over again. He pays no heed to the slick that slowly flows from you, nor does he when you try to push him closer, begging for more. Your hand finds his dark locks, attempts to pull him closer only to be swatted away, a particularly harsh bite leaving you whimpering as he speaks.

“I know she’s needy, I know,” he coos, kissing away the pain before moving back to his torturous cycle. “I can see her twitch, just waiting for me to fuck her.”

Confusion, followed by a realization that sends you reeling when his hand splays right against your pubic bone. He’s talking to your pussy.

He doesn’t stop, a single finger reaching to play with the wetness that’s already leaking from your understimulated cunt. “Look at her, barely even touched and she’s crying out for me—“

He taps lightly at your mound, laughing as your hips rise involuntarily. You glare at him, a mix of frustration and want before he finally pulls you towards his face.

“Alright, enough of that,” he breathes. “Let me finally have a taste.”

Only when you’re fit to burst does he indulge you, placing his lips against your sex. Hot and wet, his tongue laps at you, your body relaxing into the sheets as he drinks from you like a man parched. The languid pace he takes feels like heaven, mind-numbing in all the best ways. Toes curl, your voice growing more and more high pitched as he works miracles between your legs, his own grunts joining in as he savors your taste.

“You look good like this,” he chokes, forcing his thick tongue into your weeping hole as you shake. “Taste even better.”

You bring your head from the sheets to look at him between your legs and the sight could’ve had you coming undone right then and there. Both thighs firmly in his grasp, Cid moves against your cunt with a practiced ease, making no attempt to hide just how much he’s enjoying your taste. Verdant eyes darkening, you watch as his thoughts seep out of him, filled with a drive to bring you to pleasure, instinctual and mindless, wanting nothing more than to witness you fall apart under him. Your lust-addled brain can barely decipher his muttered words, singing your praises against the warm embrace of your sex.

“So good, fucking delicious,” A hand presses below your stomach, keeping you still as his mouth moves faster and faster. “A meal all to myself—“

Your head falls against the sheets once more, arching into his touch, legs gaining that telltale tremble that signals your end. Without warning he stops, sits back on his haunches and before you can protest you’re pulled further down into the bed, legs dangling on his muscled shoulders. A noise of shock escapes you, followed by a high-pitched cry as Cid absolutely buries his face against your pussy, giving little care to the mess he makes against your thighs. You can feel him smiling as he does so, not looking away from your shaking form for a second.

Your fingers snake through his hair, tugging at the dark strands to bring him closer, an action he makes no attempt to stop. The drag of his stubble leaves your thighs raw, the slight burn both comforting and torturous as he sucks your clit.

The way he goes at you almost hurts, legs pushing away uselessly against the strength of a Dominant, a choked-off laugh escaping him before he returns to his ministrations. His name becomes a personal mantra, the only thing you can say when faced with such insurmountable bliss.

“Cid, Cid, Cid—“

“Mm, I know love, I know, fuck—“

He shushes you, soothes your aching pussy with a kiss, goes back to lapping at your heat and starts the cycle all over again.

The filthy sounds of his tongue against your slick fill the room, a long finger curling inside you, followed by another that makes your vision blur and your back arch. Ecstasy flows through your body, a sensation that has you falling apart, succumbing to Cid’s talented mouth. You can’t help the whines that leave you, nor can you stop your legs closing around his head.

He seems to enjoy it though, moving even more enthusiastically—as if the pressure encourages him. “Lemme hear you love—let me hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your orgasm ripples through you, leaving you limp against the sheets. He doesn’t stop the abuse for a second, wringing every last bit of pleasure he can greedily. Locked in a vicious cycle, every moan of his name forcing his fingers deeper and deeper until you’re forced to beg for a reprieve, whimpering for a mercy that doesn’t come. He laps at your wetness, only stopping when he’s satisfied you’re a trembling mess.

Dazed and lethargic, you mutter under your breath, trying to recover from the mind blowing orgasm you just had. You chance a glance between your shaking legs and there lies Cid, looking far too much like the cat that ate the cream.

Red faced and heaving, he wipes any remaining juices from his face, locking eyes with you as he licks your essence from his fingers. A growl escapes him as he messily laps at his fingers, taking no care in being civil. “Knew you’d taste heavenly dear.”

Words fail you, following the movement of his mouth as he finishes with a groan. He laughs at your reaction, a gravelly sort of noise before crawling on top of your weakened body.

Full of fire and passion, he attacks your senses, the taste of yourself on his tongue, the welcome feeling of his hands against your body, the drag of his clothed cock against your drenched pussy—

It’s too much, it’s all too fucking much, and you need more.

You separate yourself with a gasp, tugging at his underwear impatiently. “Off, now.”

He does so wordlessly, freeing himself. His cock stands at attention, twitching, waiting, flushed a pretty pink as he sits back and slaps it against your folds, a salacious grin at his lips. “This what you wanted, right?”

The words rattle in your head, every memory you have of Cid flashing before your eyes.

Your answer is hastily whispered between kiss-bruised lips—Yes, please—before Cid descends on you once again.

You pull him closer, a leg at his side as you grind yourself against his naked form, a shudder escaping the both of you when the head of his cock just barely catches at your entrance. The air rings heavy with anticipation but he still finds the time to hold you close, bite at the skin of your neck and hiss when your nails scratch at his back. “Impatient little thing aren’t you?” He huffs, but his hips move enthusiastically against yours, so close and yet so far. Your pathetic whines hit his ears, a sick satisfaction blooming in his chest when you pull him close.

“Cid, please, just fuck me already.” you mewl.

“I don’t know dear,” He pulls away to tease your entrance, the flared tip catching at your overstimulated clit in a way that makes your breath hitch. “You haven’t exactly shown me you deserve it.”

Another thrust of his hips and you swear you see stars.

He whispers against your skin. “Ask nicely and I’ll give you what you want.”

It’s painful how much he teases you, and yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. “Please, Cid—“

Another sharp press of his cock against you. “You’ll have to try harder than that. Makes me think you don’t want it.”

You cry out in frustration. “I need you to fuck me, need you to fill me up, please—I fucking need you.“

He grins, satisfied with your answer. “There now, was that so hard?”

You move to reply but any thought you have is left unfinished when he finally gives you what you’ve been craving, that increasingly fullness that has your words die in your throat. Inch by tantalizing inch, he sheathes himself into your heat, grunting as he does so. When he bottoms out you cry, hands reaching to grab at his arms, his back, anywhere they can reach in hopes that it can somehow steady you from just how good he fucking feels. He responds in kind, head bowed, leaning on his forearms to cage you in and take your wandering hands in his own.

A moment passes, but it feels like eons. He looks at you like you’re the sun, as if your radiance threatens to consume his very being.

“You should see yourself right now,” He presses his lips against your neck. “It’s hard to keep myself in control when you feel this fucking good—”

As if on queue your pussy hugs him, the sensation of you squeezing around him forcing a moan to pass his lips.

You shake your head. “Don’t—wouldn’t want you to—” “Filthy mouth on you,” he grunts, kissing at your face, your lips, anywhere he can reach. Breathless, it becomes harder and harder to think as his hips shallowly press against yours, the slow drag of his cock driving you insane.

A cheeky smile graces your features. “Perhaps you should shut me up then—” You’re interrupted by a hard thrust, and whatever you were going to say next is replaced with a wail. “Not when you sound like that.” He growls.

Another hard thrust has you fully arched from the bed, followed by another, more and more. Cid holds your squirming body with both hands and with only a single nod as a warning, grips you firmly as he fucks you with abandon.

There is little restraint in his actions, brow furrowed together in concentration. He uses you like his personal toy, watches in delight as your face contorts with pleasure, encourages you further when your pussy leaves a ring of white around his cock.

“Shameless aren’t you?” He says, his own breathing ragged. “Look at you, spread open for me.”

You can only moan in response, far too lost in your own world to truly respond. Even thinking feels like too much effort.

A choked noise leaves him at the sight of your cock-drunk expression, nearly sending him over the edge. Your legs grow tired and fall to his hips, pulling him even closer as if on instinct, mindless ramblings of his name followed by pleas.

“More, more—“

“Greedy fuckin’ thing ain’t you?” He rasps, but your blissed out sight is enough to have him pressing you into the mattress until the bedframe begins to creak. He’s lost in the feeling of your slick walls hugging at his cock, the urge to possess you taking over. You’re breathless, unable to mutter a single word that isn’t his name or a broken attempt at speech.

You’re the first one to feel a jolt of euphoria, white-hot as it licks up your spine, followed by an uncontrollable quake in your thighs. Tears brim your eyes, unable to tell him but Cid knows, pressing his thumb against your hard nub.

“That’s it, there you go,” he hisses between clenched teeth, talking you through another earth-shattering orgasm. “Don’t hold back, show me how good it feels darling—“

You sob, coming for the second time that night. Your voice gets the highest it’s been, so engulfed in pleasure it blinds you. He fucks you through it all, you try to push away but he pulls your weakened body back towards him with a heavy hand.

“Oh no, you get back here, we’re not done.” He growls. Wrists captured, he continues his assault on your senses once more, this time with no chance of escape.

His own body shakes with the weight of exhaustion but he doesn’t, no, won’t acknowledge it. Not when you’re so pretty lying below him, not when your pussy is so inviting, stuffed so full that he can feel his outline when a hand reaches to press at your navel.

When your eyes glaze over he takes you by the chin, waking you from your lust-based stupor.

“Come on darling, keep those eyes on me,” he says, thrusting slowly into your warmth. You nod your head weakly, too gone to speak.

“That’s my girl,” he says, pausing to sit back on his haunches. He enjoys the sight of you limp before speaking again. “I’m gonna be a little rough darling, but you can take it can’t you?”

Your eyes rolling back, a chorus of no, I can’t spills from your lips before Cid takes your face with both hands.

“Yes you can,” he mumbles at your bruised lips. “I know you can take me pretty girl, I know it.”

He smoothes over your hair, kisses your tears away, gives you a moment of reprieve after what felt like hours.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he exhales, letting his thumb stroke your cheek ever so gently. “I’ll make you feel good, promise.”

You’re distracted by his gentle words, a noise of surprise escaping you when he begins to bear down on you, this time with more ferocity.

You’re both obscenely loud, neither of you giving a damn if you get complaints the next morning.

His hips slap against yours, the result of years of pent-up tension echoing off the walls. His lips attach to yours, swallowing every noise you make greedily, barely parting for air before assaulting them yet again.

His presence is suffocating, his entire weight forcing you further and further into the sheets. Your body aches with exhaustion, and even your voice has gone hoarse with how much you’ve sang his praise between the four walls of his bedchambers. Carnal, frantic you can feel the need in every movement, how his cock throbs inside you, the beginnings of another orgasm creeping up on you. You’re both shaky, head pressed into your shoulder whispering both filth and reverence under his breath.

“Gods, your pussy is divine—“

“I can’t believe I’ve gone this long without it—“

“Might have to fill you up and make you mine.”

That last sentence makes your toes curl, your cunt throbbing at the thought. An achingly slow grind of his hips, he slows down just enough to let you speak.

“That excited you huh?” He husks. “Want me to come in this pretty little pussy?”

Your answer is a moan, nodding your head as you hold the sheets between shaky fingers.

“Okay then, say it,” he murmurs into your skin, resuming his brutal pace. “Say you want me to come in you, say you want me to make a mess of you—“

Sweat drips from his brow. He’s so close you can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way his hips slowly stutter and start again, if only to draw your pleasure just that bit longer.

You stare back at him, voice quivering. “Yes, yes, please—come in me Cid.“

Your words give him the permission he needs, his body curling over yours. “Fuck, fucking hell—“ he cries your name, a searing warmth filling you as he cums, the action making your legs shake once again as another orgasm catches you by surprise.

He collapses at your side, exhaustion finally taking hold. You feel your legs shake once again, staring into his verdant green eyes. You can see the love that shines through them, and it’s evident that your bond is something beyond just physical, something that puts the word “love” to shame. He is yours, and you are his.

There’s a long stretch of time where it’s just you and him, basking in each other’s warmth. Chest to chest, skin sticky with sweat where you simply exist.

It’s calm. You could get used to this.

A breath escapes you with a smile. “This whole time.”

You feel Cid smile into your shoulder in turn. “This whole time.”

Another silence.

“Cid?” You ask.

He turns to look at you, a smile on his face. “Yes darling?”

“I can’t feel my fucking legs.”

His laughter is infectious, turning to watch as you give him a pointed look that eventually turns into your own giggle fit.

Cid attempts to sympathize with a half-hearted kiss to your shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I can’t feel mine either.”

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi smut #cid telamon #cidolfus telamon #cidolfus telamon smut #cidolfus telamon x reader #robo writes #reader insert #cidolfus telamon/reader

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gloomyswritings · 9 months

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the ties that bind | joshua rosfield x fem!reader

chapter I - the beginning

Read this instead story on hiatus

warnings : none

note : this story will have nsfw content at some point. story will have spoilers for the game and the game lore will be changed some as to fit the story i want for the reader. the reader will have some traits i give them just for the sake of making the story flow better (ex: eye color, hair length, etc). please ignore spelling and grammar mistakes i’ll at some point probably fix it all. this is a slow burn fan fic

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Mornings were always dreaded by you, it meant that you had to get dressed and attend the boring classes that royals were forced to. Etiquette, politics, foreign affairs, literature, and the most dreaded mathematics. But today was different you’d be taking a break from your usual routine and instead you’d be going to Rosaria with parents. It was on the pretense of it being for solely political matters but of course you’d be taking advantage of it fully being able to see your most bestest of friends—Joshua Rosfield. Oh, and of course there was Clive and Jill there also but then we’re just your friends no one had the bond you and the Phoenix shared. It didn’t take long before the maids fluttered in quickly pulling you out of your soft warm bed.

“Lady _____, must you sleep so crazily? I had braided your hair to perfection last night and now your hair looks like a wild chocobos nest!” The middle aged maid scolded as she began to run a brush through your tangled hair. Wincing as the brush got caught on a knot you whined, “Miss Tatiana you’re being too rough!” You cried but the maid known as Tatiana ignored your pleas. “You’ve always had the wildest of hairs ever since you were a baby, so you should be used to it by now.” She clicked her tongue. Finally after some more pain you were relieved from the torment of having your hair brushed, “You need to look presentable for the Rosfields _____.” Tatiana said as she finished your pigtail braids tying a dainty white ribbon to the ends. Jumping out of her grasp you spun on your heel facing her, “It’s a three day wagon ride anyways! My hair well look like a mess by tonight.” You said matter of factly a proud smirk playing your plump lips. But the greying maid ignored you as she began to pull out a dress from a wardrobe, “Come child put this on.” She said motioning you with her hands to come to her.

Finally you were dressed in a simple yet elegant pale pink dress that fell a few inches below your knees paired with leather boots it was time to go find your parents. Tatiana waving you off so she could finish packing for the trip. Humming contently as you walked down the halls searching for your parents. “Excuse me, have you seen me father and mother ?” You asked a branded man. “O-oh yes Lady _____, they are outside in the courtyard!” The nervous branded man said. You never understood why branded acted so scared of you. Surely you weren’t that mean or ugly, right? You nodded a frown replacing your smile, “Alrighty thanks! Also I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?” You asked curiously. The man shifted uncomfortably his eyes darting across the corridor as knights watched him closely from afar though you were oblivious to it all. “It’s..it’s Da-“ but before he could answer you shouting was heard from down the hall.

Your mother’s screeching echoed through the corridor, “_____ get here this instant!” She stormed towards you placing a strong grip on your arm as she yanked you away from the branded man, “And you why are you just standing around! Go you have a job to do!” She shouted at the branded who quickly scurried away bowing and apologizing the whole time. Your mother’s grasp was tight and you let out a cry, “Mummy stop you’re hurtin me!” You whimpered pulling away from her grip. Your mother turned to face you a look of fear on her face, “He didn’t hurt you right or say anything to upset you?” She asked leaning down to wipe the corners of your watery eyes. Her intense amber eyes stared into yours thin black brows knitted together in concern. Shaking your head you pushed her hands from your face, “I’m okay mum, I was jus askin him his name and where you two were. Please don’t punish him he didn’t do nothin’.” You pleaded with your mother. She sighed standing up, “Nothing will happen to him. But you shouldn’t speak to bearers dear it looks bad.” She scolded you half heartedly. But why was it bad weren’t they just people also?

~•••~

You laid your head against the glass window of the carriage, pale grey eyes staring absentmindedly out the window eyelids heavy due to boredom. You hated road trips and wished you could just teleport to Rosaria. traveling from the Crystalline Dominion all the way to the other side of Storm was boring all the scenery looked the same, the random Imperial checkpoints the caravan would be forced to stop at it was boring. How much longer was it until you’d arrive? Until you could see your dear friends. Then without notice the carriage abruptly stopped, your head bouncing off the window. Wincing you rubbed your temple your mother already quickly wrapping her arms around you, “My dear are you okay?” She asked. Reaching over she slid down the window sticking her head out, “You bearer, conjure some ice for me.” She commanded snapping her fingers. “Yes Lady Marianne!” the bearer soldier said quickly conjuring a small shard of ice and handing it to your mother. She placed the ice against your temple, the sudden coldness sending a shiver down your spine she replaced her hand with yours telling you to hold it in place and stay put while she investigated.

Muffled talking was all you heard, you looked out the window once again looking at the scenery. Huh this was a knew route…you thought to yourself. Curiosity took ahold of you as you slid the carriage door open, your bare feet hitting the rough gravel road. Turning your attention towards your mother and father talking at the front of the caravan you then noticed there seemed to some hold up. “…I don’t care that a carriage was overturned were already a day behind let’s move on. Leave some soldiers with them and we get a move on.” Your mother said obviously annoyed at whatever had happened up ahead. Your father smiled rubbing the back of his head as he took on your mother’s wrath, “My dear Marianne we can’t do that…” you stopped listening at that point uninterested in their banter. It seemed like you’d be here for some time so you might as well walk around for a bit, you wouldn’t wander far. Grabbing you boots with one hand you used your feet to slip the shoes on your hand still grasping the slowly melting ice shard. Glancing around you made sure now one was looking before you trotted off just barely out of sight of the caravan.

You sang quietly to yourself as you rummaged through the foliage near a riverbank. You could still faintly hear chattering and cooing from the chocobos from the caravan so you weren’t too far. The ice had completely melted now leaving your hands wet but you didn’t mind as you plucked a few wildflowers from the ground. It was then something caught your eye from further down the riverbank, a shiny object glistening in the sun. Quickly you rushed towards the object, paying no mind to the lingering danger just beyond the brush. “Ah ha!” You mumbled under your breath as you came upon the shiny object. It looked as if it was something from the Ancients whatever it was you were pleased quickly shoving it in your pocket. Joshua is going to be so jealous! You thought to yourself a content smile playing on your lips. As you turned around to make your way back to the caravan before anyone noticed you heard a twig snap catching your attention. Goosebumps littered your skin as you froze in place. “Hello?” You called out quietly scanning the tree line. A primal like fear overtook your senses but before you could run away a wild lone hound raced out from the tree line making its way towards you. A scream left your mouth just as the hound pounced on your swiping it paw across your cheek but just as quick as the hound jumped on you it was thrown off of you.

“______! Are you okay?!” You heard your father shout as he finished off the hound he rushed towards you dropping his sword by his side as he wrapped his arms around you. “Fuck ______ your face!” He grimaced pulling a handkerchief out of shirt pocket dabbing your face. It was then you felt the stinging sensation and then warm liquid run down your cheek. This truly was an unlucky trip for you.

next chapter ->

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imjeralee · 8 months

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Can’t believe I forgot to cross post this against tumblr and I am 6 chapters into my Clive x F!reader fic. Enjoy!

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Clive Rosfield/Reader, Clive Rosfield/You Characters: Clive Rosfield, Reader, You, Carbuncle, Original Characters, Cidolfus Telamon, Sleipnir Harbard, Barnabas Tharmr Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Romance, Protective Clive Rosfield, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Fluff, Freeform, Slavery, Sexual Themes, Slow Build, Farmer!Clive, Sub!Clive, Clive Rosfield fanservice, beta-read by ToonyTwilight, Pining, Slow Burn, Pre-Canon, Wet Dream, Masturbation, Smut Summary:

Set before the events of FF16. Clive is sentenced to eight months of labor in a farming village after he is wrongly blamed for an accident. There, he meets a mysterious girl who is forced under his care but she is not who she seems.

#final fantasy xvi #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #clive #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #ff16 clive #reader insert #reader #you #fanfic #ao3

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ruukina · 8 months

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FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least.

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat.

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced.

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world.

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms.

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway.

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid.

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart.

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process.

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home.

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants.

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there.

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh.

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core.

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain.

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan.

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either.

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.”

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body.

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you.

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #clive x reader #clive rosfield #🌙.txt #🌙 seren's writings

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fictionparadiso · 10 months

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Welcome to my Eden's Garden

Hello, you may call me Paradiso, and I welcome you to my Tumblr blog where I will share with you my brainrot, character adoration and general ravings about fiction. (Note: This blog WILL contain NSFW stuff, which I will both tag and write in the title, so you can be almost 100% sure you will find it). Now, to the basics:

DNI Information

Please, if any of the following groups apply to you, do not interact with this blog:

Minors - I am sorry, but I do not feel comfortable interacting with minors with a blog like this. So I would kindly ask you to interact with me if you are under 18.

Haters - I know this term is VERY ambiguous, but basically - if you do not like the content this blog focuses on OR you are not comfortable with any of my identities or styles or whatever - feel free to block me. Both you and I will spare our sanity.

I'm sure there are other groups or traits that I do not feel comfortable with which I have not mentioned. In any case, I just want to clarify that I reserve the right to block you without indicating a reason. If I do not feel comfortable interacting with you or your content, I will either ignore or block you, it isn't necessarily personal and I will not give any warning, just wanting to put that out there.

What you can expect

Now, this blog will heavily focus on the characters that I like and my headcanons or short fics of them (usually in general, other characters or with a self-insert reader). If it is self-insert the reader will be either M or GN coded (sorry, not comfortable with F!Reader).

If you want to share your enthusiasm about any of the characters or franchises you see on my list (or even don't see, but just want to scream at someone about them), I may be your guy~

When I write NSFW you can expect a listing of the kinks and such somewhere at the beginning so you know if it is or is NOT for you. Some of my kinks are pretty out there, so don't feel bad for not sharing them.

My F/O list

While I would not label myself as Fictosexual, I do tend to develop feelings towards characters in media and think up a lot of different scenarios. I also do not get jealous about my F/Os, so if you like any of the one's I like, feel free to rave about them with me! (if you're comfortable, of course)

💖 Main Romantic F/Os 💖

Iwai Munehisa - Persona 5 - #I call Shotgun

Maruki Takuto - Persona 5 - #No more Tears

Harumi Takeda - My Senpai is Annoying - #My Senpai is Lovable

Diavolo - Obey Me! - #Deal with the Devil

Drayden - Pokemon Black/White - #Under your Scales

Unabara/Neptune - Heaven's Design Team - #In Heaven

Alistair - Dragon Age Origins - #Be my bastard king

🌹 Other Romantic F/Os 🌹

Gladiolus Amicitia - Final Fantasy XV - #Shield for a Shield

Rengoku Kyojuro - Demon Slayer - #My Heart is Ablaze

Bryce - Jock Studio (NSFW source) - #Party Teddy bear

Derek - Jock Studio (NSFW source) - #Gentleness personified

Uzui Tengen - Demon Slayer - #Flamboyant Party Animal

Dojima Ryotaro - Persona 4 - #Dad and Idyll

Leon - Pokemon Sword/Shield - #Champion of my Heart

Archie and Matt (poly) - Pokemon Alpha Sapphire/Omega Ruby - #Waterbound Trio

Lysandre - Pokemon X/Y - #Whatever Boss says is true

Lt. Surge - Pokemon (he's in too many games) - #Sparks are Flying

Lucifer - Obey Me! - #Prim and Proper

All Might - My Hero Academia - #You are my Hero

Gentle Criminal - My Hero Academia - #Gentlemen Bonding

Rider/Iskandar - Fate/Zero - #Conqueror of my Mind (purely aesthetic, I have NOT consumed any Fate media yet)

Clive - Final Fantasy XVI - #Raven-haired heartthrob

Hawke - Dragon Age II - #Hawke Fever (purely aesthetic, I have NOT consumed any Dragon Age II media yet)

Hjalmar an Craite - Witcher - #Rage of the Islands

Jacques de Aldersberg - Witcher 1 - #Burnt Rose (very morally incorrect)

Siegfried - Witcher 1 - #Ideal Knight

Graves - League of Legends - #Mutual Coin Fever

Sett - League of Legends - #Kneeling for the Boss

Garen - League of Legends - #For Demacia's Hero

Dion - Final Fantasy XVI - #My only true Emperor

Akira Konoe - Persona 5 Strikers - #Heroes don't wear capes

Fatgum - My Hero Academia - #Bubblegum dreams

Zayne - Jock Studio (NSFW source) - #Fanclub for the king

🍀 Main Platonic F/Os 🍀

Kanjori Mitsuri - Demon Slayer - #Mochi Breathing

Kocho Shinobu - Demon Slayer - #Butterfly in the Night

Bayonetta - Bayonetta - #Let's Dance on the Moon

Cynthia - Pokemon Diamond/Pearl - #Domineering Companion

Kirijo Mitsuru - Persona 3 - #Two in Harmony

Yennefer of Vengerberg - Witcher - #Obsidian Star

Geralt of Rivia - Witcher - #The White Wolf

🌊 Other Platonic F/Os 🌊

Triss Merigold - Witcher - #Magic Allergy

Ahri - League of Legends - #Nine-tailed Charms

Lux - League of Legends - #Prism in the Rough

#info #basics #pinned #dni #my f/os #links

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lovehotelreservation · 10 months

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Throw Your Weight Around And Behind Me - Let's Rip It All to Confetti

Summary: With lands as grand and vast as Valisthea's, it was understandable to feel alone.

Yet as long as the presence of that man was close by, you would never have to bear the burden of loneliness.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: R

Pairing: F!Reader/Joshua

[Previous Piece - Cidolfus]

ur honor i'm in amore with the anti-carrot ikemen 🧎‍♀️

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You were in love with a deceptive man.

Of course, while he would never lie to you out of cruel malice, Joshua always knew how to take you by surprise.

A strong heart that bore so much fiery passion was encased within a body of porcelain.

Beautiful yet so delicate.

His inherited resilience was boundless, up until his persistently accursed fatigue had him rendered to the floor, his breath lost, his body strained.

As always, you were ever by his side, potions and salves at the ready to soothe his ache and comfort his pain all while you cradled him close to your chest, your voice a mix of loving concern and exasperated desperation while you urged for him to step away from further exertion in favor of the resting comfort of a bed.

The world needed to be saved, yes–but the world meant nothing to you if he was not there to witness the hard fought salvation.

And of course, he was grateful to receive your attention, yet you knew all too well what your constant fussing and worrying cultivated in his heart.

I am not a boy.

He was used to this all of his life, denied freedom to roam around with his brother during his youth because of his frail stature–which in turn only drew an even stricter monitoring from that wretched mother of his.

Now, for him, having well matured into adulthood, it was your continued fretting that drew him to action.

He was at his most weakened state before he found himself drawn into your arms, but it was by the sensation of your embrace that granted him the strength to break free.

Only so he could be the one to take you into his arms.

For as much as you worried about him, all he desired was to calm your storm in your heart with the warmth of his love.

At once, you were helping him to bed, your voice in a sigh over him pushing himself needlessly once again, his arm slung around your shoulder, your hand guiding him by the waist.

In minutes, that fragile grip snapped with a surge of power, your wrist suddenly finding itself seized before you were the one to first take the bed while Joshua claimed his place above you, strawberry blonde locks shadowing over his eyes, glimpses of darkened sapphire beneath that conveyed one message in particular.

I am a man.

He was never rough with you–never! He was raised to be a gentleman and he would never handle you with brutality.

But he was thorough.

His lips smothering yours with yearning hunger, his tongue eager to plunge into your mouth, all while he teasingly hummed over who was the more delicate one as his fingers journeyed down to between your thighs.

From once needing all the support you could provide so he could sit up to keeping you anchored down to the bed by the relentless rhythm of his hips barreling down onto yours, all while his lips marked his presence on your neck–a declaration of the role he gladly served in your life.

For while Joshua’s delicate stature may be deceptive to the strength he possessed, his love for you was anything but.

#joshua rosfield x reader #Final Fantasy XVI #final fantasy xvi spoilers #ffxvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #reader insert #Throw Your Weight Around And Behind Me #Fic #super freaknasty writing

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lovehotelreservation · 10 months

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Hunting for Sport

Summary: He was seen as The Outlaw to many. But to you--especially after what you’ve done to him--he was your hunter.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: F!Reader/Clive

i was up until 4 am yesterday to finish ff16 🚬🚬

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There was a bounty on your head.

A piece of parchment with your face illustrated across, a hefty lump sum of gil stamped right beneath.

Who could resist trying their luck for such a splendid prize?

But being wanted so much was why you were currently meandering through the bustling streets of Kanver. Grand boulevards lined with shops and stalls offering the finest wares and goods in all of Valisthea, enticing big crowds to peruse–which, in turn, allowed for you to blend in easily without being noticed, especially with the hood of your cloak drawn over your head.

Even in the case of drawing suspicion amidst the hubbub, a quick turn into a nearby alleyway or striking up conversation with an earnest merchant was enough to shake off any attention.

Of course, there was one point to be made: Why go through such lengths when you could seek comfort in the shadows?

And the answer to such a question was simple.

It was as you were approaching a busy intersection at the heart of one of Kanver’s beloved marketplaces when a shadow loomed above you from behind, a soft yet gruff “Pardon me” uttered before you felt someone shift beside you to move on ahead.

The calm expression on your features broke into mischievous glee as you immediately took a few steps back.

That towering herculean physique, clothes, cape and armor of fine crimson and sturdy obsidian, the fine brisk hairs of a beard along his chiseled jaw that barely masked the strikingly distinct scar on his cheek, a grand and gorgeous sword sheathed on the scabbard that hung on his back, and–most captivatingly of all–those darling deep blue eyes that stared out ahead, narrowed ever so slightly in focus.

The Outlaw.

By his infamous renown, he was the only man you would ever entertain the thought of being apprehended by.

You readied to disappear back into the crowds.

That would have to wait for another day, another city, however.

But as you stepped back once more, it was right when you turned that you realized that those captivating blue eyes were no longer facing forward.

They were facing directly to your direction, straight right into your eyes.

His gaze thinned and his eyebrows furrowed as he shifted into a far more hawkish stance while his mouth uttered one word.

A word that made your eyes glitter with thrill and your lips curl into a wide grin.

Your name.

Your instincts roared at you to flee and so you did.

The hunt was on.

Kanver’s streets were to be the playing grounds while The Outlaw was to be your predator.

And as appealing as it sounded with how utterly handsome he was, you were in no mood to be easy prey.

Prior to this encounter, you had your means of discretely slipping back into the shadows. Yet for every moment you heard the heavy thuds of his armored boots a bit too close for your liking, you went from trying to slip back into the crowds to barrelling yourself through as much as you could, for ven a moment’s hesitation could result in being seized by the clawed grip of The Outlaw.

Forward, onward.

A sharp turn around a corner.

Kicking at a barrel to obstruct a path.

Weaving in and out from street to shop.

The threat of his hand finally grabbing at the back of neck felt closer with each attempted swipe.

It was as you rushed through the empty storage hall of an abandoned store front that you then decided to tear off your cloak, tossing it back behind you as one last effort to hold him up before you would try to find refuge elsewhere.

Not that you needed your cloak to begin with.

Even with your hood on, The Outlaw had gazed upon your hunting bill far too long much within his personal quarters to mistake you.

After all, you were the one to send the parchment to him in the first place.

Your fingers immediately tugged at the front tie and clasp of your cloak just before tossing it back behind you while you dug deep into the well of your energy to sprint as fast as you could.

And then, you heard a burst of flame behind.

The cool seaside air behind you was replaced by the brush of scorching heat, soon replaced by the natural warmth of flesh as a big sturdy arm immediately wrapped around your waist before pulling you back against a broad and chiseled chest, an action that was more smooth rather than brutish.

You barely could get a gasp out, your eyes wide and jaw slack in surprise.

The hunt was over but The Outlaw was far from done.

Your name was uttered once more right as you were drawn into a turn, your eyes soon finding themselves gazing right up into his.

All while your lips were soon claimed by his own.

So hungry, so yearning.

Passion was in the heart of its ferocity.

One that you were happy to reciprocate in return.

Yet as the two of you pulled away for air, you finally got a few words out in a huff.

“Using magic? That’s not fair, Clive…!”

You were met with a small grin in response.

“Did you expect an outlaw to play fairly?” He chuckled just before kissing you once again, all while his hands reached to grab at your backside. “Then again, I’d say we’re eye to eye on this after what you did…”

Your pout was replaced by a satisfied smile as you recalled the last night you spent together, just before you took off for a mission towards the Easternmost coast of Storm.

You and him at his study, his desk a mess of paperwork and letters. His wrists were bound behind him while he remained seated, his teeth gritted tight as he fought back to groan and snarl too loudly while you rode his cock, bouncing up and down his lap. You made sure to brush your breasts right against his chest, knowing fully well that all he craved was to have his hands on you, to please you as much as you pleased him.

Though, you were more of the mind to be far more wicked, for it was as he was ready to release that you suddenly got off of him, breaking your kiss with him to instead bring your lips to his ear while your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to bring him to orgasm, his seed staining your fingers instead of spilling inside of you as he so desperately wanted.

The devastation on his face was too precious for words.

Joining you, being close to you, being one with you–that was what he cherished most.

It was teasingly cruel, you knew.

Yet how could you resist wickedness around him?

Witnessing those deep tender blue eyes of his become stormy with burning desire was a sight you were simply addicted to beholding.

And thus, if he wanted to receive what he wanted from you, he would just have to hunt you down, as you sweetly murmured into his ear.

You were gone before the last knot of the ropes around his wrists unraveled.

Now you were here, caught and caged against him while he kissed your mouth, his hands caught between pulling at your clothes to outright tearing at the fabric, urgency in his pace and touch.

What a joy it was to be hunted by him.

Your body, his bounty.

Your heart, his prize.

You, his.

#clive rosfield x reader #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi spoilers #ffxvi spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #ff16 spoilers #reader insert #Fic #super freaknasty writing

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lovehotelreservation · 10 months

Text

Burn Without

Summary: For nothing else could quell the heat that was possessing Clive other than you.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: F!Reader/Clive

DICK REALLY MAKE YOU DO SOME CRAZY SHIT LIKE I CAN’T BELIVE I’M MASTERING PRECISION DODGE FOR CLIVE FF16 😭😭

-------------------

Your leader was on fire.

A gnashing of teeth, snarls and growls howled into the air, toned and chiseled naked flesh slick with sweat, iron chains clashing with the might of a beast made into man, a glow of white crystal from metal cuffs subduing the fiery roar of an Eikon.

Cid the Outlaw was Clive the possessed.

The powers of Ifrit had to be called during a recent clash on the sands of Dhalmekia. While the priming was successful, it was returning to his mortal form that was the crux of the present dilemma, the flames and primal instincts of his Eikon form still coursing through his body, leaving him his human will at war with his Dominant powers.

In other words, your leader was on fire and you had a duty to douse him out.

While you were but an assistant to Tarja, you were assigned with the task of providing Clive succor for this particular ailment. By your unique relationship with magic and willingness to literally ride through the flames of hell and back, it made you the ideal candidate to approach him during these times of torment.

Here, as the day fell into the depths of dusk in a room located at the furthest and lowest segment of the Hideaway, you inspected over the state of your leader while he continued to thrash about right as you allowed the last of your clothes to fall to the floor.

The first time this occurred, you were petrified with nerves, wondering if you could bring him back to his senses.

Now, you couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly as you stepped towards the bed he was currently bound upon, your voice in a soothing coo while you spoke,

“Let’s cool you off then, shall we, Clive?”

And as his glowing sapphire eyes immediately locked right onto you, your smile widened all the more while you joined him in bed.

It was a wonder how the solution to bringing peace to raging hellfire was to have such flames mingle with the heat of your own body.

A man in dire need to be freed from his own inferno finding comfort in the form of your bare skin pressed right onto his, to have his sturdy hips straddled by your thighs, the slick and velvety warmth of your core squeezing around his thick cock to encourage him to flood you full and stuffed with his seed while you bounced up and down his long length.

The abrupt jerks and twists of his hulking form would eventually source not from possessed rage but out of needy desperation, of which was heightened all the more when your hands cupped his stubbled jaw to bring his face towards yours for a kiss.

By the Founder how he loved being kissed!

So much so that a brush of your lips on his mouth and the soft sigh of his name was enough to send him bucking his hips wildly up into you for release, with much more left in store with a long night ahead for the both of you.

Not that you minded.

There was something about witnessing your mighty leader left at the mercy of your touch that appealed to you ever so deeply.

Though, there was also another means of satisfaction when at one point, you became alarmed at the sudden sound of metal snapping, the sight of broken chains lost to your gaze, for you soon found yourself damn near pounced by a wall of pure muscle.

Clive’s arms wrapped around you tightly, protectively, keeping you in place beneath him as he readied to pummel into you relentlessly. His lips hungrily sought your grinning ones for more kisses, his desire far from satiated.

But not before his mouth fell by your ear, his voice low and raspy, his tone weary yet enamored while those familiar stormy blue eyes gazed affectionately into yours.

“Please. Allow me to give thanks.”

#clive rosfield x reader #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi spoilers #ffxvi spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #ff16 spoilers #reader insert #Fic #super freaknasty writing

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lovehotelreservation · 10 months

Text

Throw Your Weight Around And Behind Me - Keep It Quiet, Go Steady

Summary: With lands as grand and vast as Valisthea's, it was understandable to feel alone.

Yet as long as the presence of that man was close by, you would never have to bear the burden of loneliness.

Rating: R

Pairing: F!Reader/Cidolfus

[Next Piece - Joshua]

SUMMERTIME MEANS I’M BUMPING UP PHOENIX’S “FIOR DI LATTE”

WE ARE ALL CURRENTLY BALLS DEEP IN THE SUMMER OF XVI

IF 1 IS THERE, 2 IS RIGHT OVER

THEN THE SOLUTION IS VALSTHEAN 69 PLS ENJOY

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A man at rest.

To the rest of the Cursebreakers, such a phrase seemed so far removed to describe Cidolfus.

Yet under your ever observant gaze, it was as accurate as could be.

The day you joined his cause was years ago by this point, but it did not take long for you to notice his habit of resting his left hand atop of his hilt of one of his swords while he sauntered around and about.

Much like his instinct to grin and wink your way right after proposing the riskiest plan of sabotage known to man, all while you felt the mightiest of migraines begin to take hold of your temples.

It was a constant clash of his risky ambition against your mindful approach, but these back and forths never amounted to anything that left a true fissure in your bond together.

Rather, this contrast only served to draw the two of you ever closer, which in turn lead to another tendency of his that you were quite familiar with:

The way his face would nuzzle against your neck while staggering up against you upon returning from a fierce fight, the weight of his battered body slumping haphazardly onto you while the grip of his arm around your waist was tight.

“Pardon my missteps for this waltz, darling. I’ll need for you to take lead on this one yet again…”

He would chuckle jokingly. You would gape in horror.

It was habit at this point. He couldn’t help himself.

And neither could you, your tongue sharp as you hissed at his recklessness all while fighting back the sting of tears in your eyes while hurriedly hauling him over to Tarja for immediate care.He was a man at rest because he was always on his feet.

A slight slouch and lean here and there, his arm ready to gesture around and about, his fingers itching to grab another cigarette–stylized posturing, truly, but he was always standing so tall, unwavering.

Thus was why–conflicts of approach aside–you had no qualms and no issue with letting him rest against you.

His heavy head on your lap, cheeks flushed and lips grinning in a drunken daze while he fondly recalled drawing the fury of the king during his last few days at Waloed.

His gloved hand on your thigh, all while he adjusted his cloak as the two of you sped out from the outskirts of Rosaria with a carriage full of freed Bearers, his voice prideful as he celebrated yet another successfully executed plan.

His sturdy hips on your bared bottom, rutting slowly while he had you pinned beneath him on his bed, his teeth teasingly nipping at your neck, his lips uttering filth and affection into your ear.

Caressing his hair, lacing your fingers with his, melding your body against his–it was simply instinct for you just as much.

After all, Cidolfus had his reasons to lean against you, but god how you would support him until the end of time.

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if my habit of doing collections per series starts acting up again then pls consider this work to be the receiver with continuations featuring other xvi mfs >:)

#cidolfus telamon x reader #final fantasy xvi #reader insert #Throw Your Weight Around And Behind Me #Fic #super freaknasty writing

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iliektehhaxs · 9 months

Text

Masterlist

(Updated as of 3/23/2024) I always post under the Robo Writes tag on my blog! Requests are currently open! Feel free to send an idea over ❤️

Final Fantasy XVI

All Thigh Riding with the FFXVI Boys ♡ Clive Rosfield Words Unspoken, Actions Taken (18+) Summary: After Clive returns from another mission battered and bruised you finally give him a piece of your mind. He doesn’t take too kindly to your words. Spoken Beneath the Stars Summary: After sleeping with Clive things become tense, and you want answers, even if he doesn't want to give them. NSFW Alphabet (18+)

Sweet Longing (18+)

Summary: Clive’s hopelessly in love with you, but you’re already in love with someone else.

Clive pegging ask (18+) ♡ Cidolfus Telamon NSFW Alphabet (18+) Lady-in-waiting ask (18+) A Commander and His Second (18+)

Summary: You’ve had a crush on Cid for years, little did you know he felt the same.

Cid jerking off to his crush (18+)

Sweet Knowing (18+)

Summary: Cid becomes aware of the attention you seem to draw from a certain Rosfield, and uses it to his advantage. ♡ Barnabas Tharmr NSFW Alphabet (18+)

Vampire! Reader ask (tw//bloodplay)

Bladesmith! Reader ask

♡ Joshua Rosfield NSFW Alphabet (18+) What happens after the fight with Ultima Call of Duty ♡ Captain Price

Soldiers With Benefits (18+)

Summary: You’re interested in the Captain, and he’s interested in you.

Unhinged Sex with Price (18+) tbh not even sure I should put this here

Domestic thoughts (suggestive)

♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Domestic thoughts (suggestive)

Sex Tape (18+)

Toxic!ex boyfriend Simon

♡ Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Untitled Ask ♡ John "Soap" MacTavish Thanksgiving Celebrations (18+) John and his pretty neck (18+)

Pro!wrestler soap

Body Worship

Body Worship Pt. 2 (suggestive)

Chubby Johnny Appreciation 1 2

Summary: Johnny comes back from deployment, and you help him find peace.

So close, and yet so far (18+)

Summary: Johnny’s got a new obsession, in the form of a pretty camgirl.

♡ All

Teaching you how to ride (18+) Resident Evil ♡ Carlos Oliveira Under Cover of Night Summary: A midnight rendezvouz leaves Carlos with more than he bargained for.

Resident Evil Headcanons (18+)

Resident Evil men and their favorite acts with their S/O (18+) Mortal Kombat 1 Baker AU- Kuai Liang, Smoke, Bi-Han, and Liu Kang

♡ Bi-Han One Year Later (18+) Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend for your first year anniversary, needless to say he enjoys your gift very much.

NSFW Alphabet (18+)

♡ All

Cockwarming with the MK1 Boys (18+)

Summary: You tell the boys your newest idea for the bedroom.

Overwatch

♡ Cole Cassidy

Shaving his beard (13+)

Peacemaker (Discontinued) ♡ Adrian Chase Sick Leave (18+)

#masterlist #reader smut #robo writes #reader insert #final fantasy xvi #peacemaker #call of duty #overwatch

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iliektehhaxs · 8 months

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If you are still taking requests for FFXVI stories, could I request one of Cid in Waloed with one of the ladies of the court there? ; v ; <3 You're free to characterize her as you wish, tho I am partial to him being a loveable rogue and she's much more prim and proper. QvQ Thank youuuuuuuu

Hey anon, I'm a chronic overwriter. I could've had this done within an hour, but guess what? I have no self control. I loved the idea so much that, well, I made this. Pairing: Cidolfus Telamon/Reader (female pronouns) Word count: 2.4k Rating: 18+ Warnings: fingering, cunnilingus

Cidolfus Telamon, Lord Commander of Waloed; A man far beyond your reach, and yet he still admires you from across the hall.

His eyes burn a hole into you from across the room. Dark clothes and even darker hair, he watches, a coy smile stretched across his face as you tend to your mistress’ needs.

You want to look, but you don’t. You force your eyes forward instead. It would be inappropriate for a lady to lust after a man such as him.

But then again, your thoughts of him are anything but appropriate.

“Your mind is far away,” your mother admonishes. “I can see it in your eyes.” You bow, mumble an apology as she walks away. You follow faithfully, and know in your heart that as you leave, his eyes follow you with every step.

“What is your name, my lady?” he asks, a rare moment where your mother is nowhere to be found.

The thought of silence crosses your mind, perhaps if you ignore these feelings, ignore him, then maybe he would no longer haunt your mind. A single look at his charming face tells you no, that he would still find a way.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it back, grins through each syllable.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Your face heats up, and you turn to watch the flowers sway in the breeze.

He chuckles softly at that. “You’re even prettier when you’re shy.”

You turn back to him, not quite sure what to say at that. “Thank you, Lord Commander.” A shake of his head, flashing you an almost boyish grin. “Only my men call me that. I would much rather you call me Cid.” Cid. It’s informal, personal. You move to argue, but a hand at your shoulder stops you.

He leans in and your eyes dart around nervously. You’re in the garden, anyone could see the two of you, if the mistress knew-

His fingers squeeze at your shoulder, and your mind is silenced. For a moment, it’s just the two of you.

His voice cuts through the silence, deep, heady. “I insist, my lady.”

You nod wordlessly, and he moves away, satisfied. “Good. I think we’ll get along just fine.”

A final pat and he leaves you to your flowers. A part of you wishes he didn’t.

When you return to your chambers and find a bouquet of flowers, the same ones from the garden, you’re quick to stash them away. When your mother returns and asks about them you lie and say a suitor sent them to her, but you know the truth.

Your feet move with a practiced ease to the sound of music.

One step, then another, co-ordinated. You move across the floor gracefully, your mistress’ instruction in the back of your mind.

Back straight, arms extended, chest forward. Keep your head high, be confident.

Hand in hand, you move in tandem with another nobleman, absentminded. It’s for formality more than anything, but it doesn’t mean it’s not important.

Back and forth, side by side. It’s stiff, formal, businesslike. He speaks, something about his fortune or his estate, you’re not quite sure. After enough Gala’s they all sound the same, and it wouldn’t matter anyway, since your mind is occupied by another. Boredom possesses your very being. A bow, and the dance is finished, the nobleman leaving to dance with one of many fair ladies in the room. You bow in turn, and sigh internally. Remember, you are a lady. Behave as how ladies should behave.

You watch him walk away, and for a while it’s peaceful. Stood by the way, you wait with the other women hoping to catch the eye of a fine gentleman. They gossip among each other, idle chatter of whatever bachelor of the day has caught their eye. You half-heartedly reply, not truly paying attention until a hushed whisper moves through the crowd, everyone looking at the entrance.

You turn, and your eyes widen.

Stood by the doorway is none other than Cid. His head on a swivel, he searches the crowd for something, the crowd slowly moving aside for him with each step.

His verdant eyes catch your own, mischief on his face. A quick stride, the ocean of people parting for him, and he stops in front of you, watching you up and down.

You forget yourself for a moment, speaking without a thought. “You’re not supposed to be here.” “Am I not?” He smirks, adjusting his tunic.

The motion brings your eyes to his exposed chest before you correct yourself. “I didn’t-” You pause, considering your words carefully. “Why have you graced us with your presence, Lord Commander?” He tilts his head, looks at the crowd of people that watch you two, and grins. “I came to see you.” You can hear several women gasp behind you.

“Me, sir?” You question.

A nod of his head. “Yes, you.” “Have I offended you in some way?” “Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.” He says upbeat. Everyone is listening in at this point, and there is a visible change in atmosphere when he holds your hand between his leather-clad fingers.

Back bent, he bows before you. “May I have this dance?” Your heart stops for a moment, unable to believe anything that has happened in the last minute. You ask, meekly, “I beg your pardon, sir?” “Oh, did I say it wrong?” He looks up at you, curious. “I would very much like to share a dance.” It’s hard enough to believe, much less see. Even as his thumb rubs against your skin you have trouble believing it yourself.

“Y-Yes.” You answer, stammering before remembering your mistress’s training. “Yes, I should like to have this dance.” “Wonderful then,” He pulls you closer, whispering into your ear when your hands hold his own. “Be gentle with me now, I’m out of practice.” A wink, and your knees nearly buckle.

He moves not with practice but with confidence, unlike you, who’s been taught a routine from the day you were born. Dancing with Cid is unlike anything you’ve done. It’s as if he moves with you, not alongside you.

The crowd has fully separated for the two of you, everyone halting their own dances to watch the Lord Commander waltz with a lady-in-waiting.

They chatter away and you hear not a single word, too lost in the feeling of him.

“We seem to be drawing quite the attention dear,” he speaks lowly.

You bite back a laugh, whispering in turn. “That tends to happen when you interrupt a formal event.”

“Interrupt?” He says confused. “I believe there has been a misunderstanding.“

A spin, and you’re pulled right back to him, far too close to be anything but intimate. His breath fans against your face, eyes falling to your lips, and back to your eyes.

“I’m not interrupting, I’m courting you.”

The words rattle in your brain. You understand what he says, but you don’t, not in the slightest. Amusement is written on his face, just as disbelief is written on yours.

“That’s—that’s impossible.”

“Is it?” He chuckles, moves your body against his own. “I’m doing it right now, I would say it’s pretty possible.”

“You’re second in command to the king!” You whisper through your teeth. “You have your choice of any woman in the land!”

“I do. And I choose you.”

The song ends, but he still holds you close. This kind of embrace is improper, but he couldn’t care less.

Slowly, he lets you go, but not before leaving you with a final message.

“I hope we can do this again.”

Your mother is a cruel woman, sharp gaze and an even sharper tongue. Word has reached her ears of what happened, and she is less than pleased.

You feel the anger before you enter the room, and when you do her brow is already furrowed.

“The Lord Commander?” She scoffs. “A mercenary, only afforded a position in the castle due to his Eikon.”

She spits venom, tongue lashing. “You would do well to ignore his advances. A nobleman is much better suited for a lady of your ranking.”

“Of course ma’am.” You nod, apologize, anything to placate her. You know she speaks the truth but a nobleman is not what you want. What you want is far more untamed than any nobleman could provide.

As punishment you are to stay in your room. This doesn’t deter Cid, if anything it only spurs him further. A flower sent to your door, then two, then a whole bouquet. A comb, modest but still decorated finely. A bracelet, with a note attached. You smile when you read the reason behind the purchase; it reminded him of your eyes.

He sends more gifts, and you deny them all. Boxes of chocolate, flowers, even a dress. That one hurt to turn away, the fabric attractive and soft against your hands, but your mothers orders were clear.

Still, he doesn’t stop. He sends more to replace them, and when your mother isn’t looking, you chance a taste of the chocolates he’s sent you now, delighting in the sweet taste before noticing a note hidden beneath the lid.

Meet me at the castle rooftop tonight, at midnight.

You shouldn’t. But your heart tugs at the sight of it, your fingers snatch the small piece of paper before throwing the box in the trash, rubbing circles against it as you go about your day. It feels heavy in your hand, a reminder.

The sun hangs low in the sky, shades of gold and red that fall into darkness. You tug at your nightgown, slip into your shoes and leave once your mother is fast asleep.

You shouldn’t. But you do anyway.

Just as he said he would, he stands on the roof, waiting. He notices you before you speak, voice calling out in the darkness.

“You’re here.”

“I am…” you say. “How did you know I would come?”

He strokes his chin in thought. “I didn’t, the same way I didn’t know you would dance with me.”

He tilts his head, and smiles. “I tend to take gambles like this often.”

“But I denied every one of your gifts…”

“You did, but a gift means nothing.”

He walks towards you and you don’t move. “You danced with this old sack of bones, and that means more to me than any gift.”

“Unless you mean to reject me in person,” he sighs dramatically, hand over his heart in a pious gesture. “Then you’d really break this old man's heart.”

He says it with a smile, but there’s still a lingering emotion in his eyes. Doubt?

It’s gone the moment you shake your head. “My mother does not want us to be together.”

“And what do you want?”

The question throws you for a loop, eyebrows raising. “No one’s ever bothered to ask.”

“That’s a damn shame now, isn’t it?” He clicks his tongue. “But that’s what I’m here for.”

He repeats himself, his hand reaching to hold your face. “What do you want, my lady?”

A bird in a gilded cage, and the man offering her freedom. He makes you feel seen, for the first time in your life.

You nod, wordless, the smell of tobacco and leather overtaking your senses. “I want you.”

His eyes light up, and he meets you in a scalding kiss, cradling your head between his hands.

He sneaks into your room when no one notices, hushes your protests with a press of his lips.

“What if the guards catch you?” you sigh. He laughs at the notion, moves you with him as he caresses you. “Then we’ll have to give them a show, won't we?” “Cid!”

He expects the swat to his chest, but it doesn’t make his statement any less true. He could not give a damn if he was caught, because any punishment is worth seeing you.

The bed sinks with your combined weight, his legs straddling your own. You bite your lip at the view, his eyes darkening as they pass over your form.

“You haven’t been waiting too long, have you?”

He’s teasing you, and you know it. You don’t need to answer, he can see how desperate you are, he just wants to hear you say it.

“You’re incorrigible,” you whisper.

Your skirt is hiked up, exposing your underwear. Without warning his fingers trace against your clothes heat, a wicked look on his face as his fingertips find your wetness staining the fabric.

“Evidently, you love it.” he muses, your hips rising as he rubs circles against your pussy. Slow, sensual, he makes no move to give you more.

He looks at you, waiting. “Come now, don’t be shy.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly he can take control over you, and how easily you let him.

A low whine, your hand holding his wrist. “Please.” His fingers press harder, but it’s not enough. “I don’t know darling, you’re not very convincing.” A sharp intake of air, and then you moan for him. “Please, Cid.” In a flash your underwear is pulled down your legs, a single finger entering you as you gasp.

He visibly shudders at the sigh, kissing you as his finger moves inside you. Your lips part for him gratefully, his tongue moving against your own.

There’s a faint squelch, the sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out. He adds another finger and you moan into his mouth.

Faster and faster, they move inside you. Your hands hold onto his jacket, closing your eyes and surrendering yourself to his deft fingers. When he finds that spongy part you cry out, bring your hand to your mouth as he watches your juices run down his hand.

“Keep going, that’s it,” He murmurs into your neck, kissing the expanse of skin offered. “I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t stop, not until he’s certain he’s wrung out every drop of pleasure from your body. His thumb meets your clit and you keen for him, his name leaving your lips helplessly.

You look so sweet, so depraved for him. Anyone would have a hard time believing you were a noblewoman, not with the way you beg for him, tears rimming your eyes. You tremble against his hand as you come and the image nearly drives him mad.

He pulls his fingers free, spreads your cunt with two fingers and watches mesmerized as the mess you’ve made. So tantalizing, a single finger gathering your essence.

He decides then and there that he can’t help himself, lowering himself to press a sloppy kiss against your cunt. You plead for him, a moment of reprieve, but he just can’t stop himself.

“One more time darling,” he grunts between your legs, holding them down in a strong grip. “One more time, promise—”

In a way, he got his wish. This is a dance, just not the kind you perform in front of others.

#cidolfus telamon #cidolfus telamon smut #reader insert #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi smut #robo writes #ask

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