#final fantasy 16 x you

[gay-dorito-dust]

Headcanons for Clive Rosfield with gn s/o reassuring him that he's a good man who does his best to help people despite everything he has gone through, they're proud of him, and they love him so much? With hugs and kisses too!

Clive Rosfield had to be one of, if not the most strongest man you’ve ever met in your life.

Yet you’ve found that the stronger the man, the more broken they seemed to be in due to certain circumstances that happened within their past.

A past that could still be felt to this very day as it clung onto your beloved’s soul, it’s claws digging in deep into him that you worried that you’d deal him more damage if you were to pull them out raw.

You wanted nothing more then to help your exhausted lover and thankfully a time did come where Clive needed your comfort and sweet words and even sweeter reminders the most in the aftermath of a nightmare;

‘What if I’m an omen of death, destined to leave a trail of dead bodies, friends and foes alike in my wake?’ Clive admitted to you under starry skies. Yet despite how ethereal the sight above was…the topic at hand was anything but. ‘What if by the end of this I wouldn’t have had you gravely harmed, whether it’d be by my hand or others because of me.’ He adds sombrely, clutching your hand when he felt it involuntarily twitch.

‘I don’t want to have to watch that day come to pass.’ Clive was whispering now as though if he raised his voice any louder then something awful would take place, and it wouldn’t even matter whether the inherent danger were to take place five minutes from your conversation or even going as far as five weeks.

For as long as Clive could sense danger, he would always on a subconscious have himself somehow incorporated into it one way or another. He truly felt the one to blame for every wrongdoing that was committed no matter the scale of it, he just felt as though all bad things tie back to him in even the most minuscule ways.

‘Clive,’ you gripped his hand tightly, ‘not everything bad is inherently your fault.’ You told him but you weren’t finished yet. ‘You’re a good man, regardless of what the past speaks of your character. You’ve done a whole lot of good since those dark times and done a whole lot of good for the people who felt as though they had no hope to hold onto, Who felt like they too were deserving of the wrongdoings that have happened in their pasts because they felt as though they didn’t deserve better.’ You raised his hand and pressed a dozen kisses against the skin there as you decided to hold his hand close to your chest.

‘You’re a good man Clive Rosfield and I will not stand in hearing you slander yourself on the pretences of lies and falsehoods.’ You said as you tug him closer so you could bring your arms to hold him against you as you began to speak your words against his ebony locks. ‘For the Clive Rosfield I know is a brave, strong man of many talents, and he’s a beautiful man with a gentle, kind and caring heart.’ You felt Clive relax further into you, as though attempting to drown himself in your warmth and your scent with how he noses it’s way from against your collar bone, and upwards until his head is firmly flushed against your neck where he would then find comfort in your pulse point as his eyes began to drift off at the sound of your soothing voice.

A voice Clive would rather die then to never hear again, whispering sweet enchantments that you call encouragement into his ear.

‘And I am proud, so very proud of my Clive that neither words nor any form of expression can begin to accurately convey of the magnitude of how proud I am of him.’ You whispered sweetly, pressed kisses now and then again his hair or any form of exposed warm skin that was within your lips reach to douse in a plethora of kisses, leaving not a spec untouched by your lips, and even as you pulled away, you could feel Clive’s body writhe as it began to desperately miss your lips; considering how determined your beloved seemed to press himself further up against you, you’d think that he was trying to imprint himself onto you in some form of way.

‘His demons may want him to claim otherwise but I wish for him to remember that he isn’t what they say he is, Clive Rosfield isn’t a monster, nor a death omen, but I know my Clive Rosfield and my Clive Rosefield is anything and everything but those words. He’s generous, brave, bold, and yes I do have to admit, a little stubborn and hardheaded.’ You admitted, chuckling as Clive removed his head from your neck to give you a look. ‘But, even though he may often claim that he’s putting me in danger just for loving him.’

You pressed your forehead against his, nudging your nose against his, smiling when he wordlessly reciprocated the action. ‘I’ve never felt more safer then I ever have then within his arms.’ You muttered against his lips before closing the gap and kissing every ounce of love and affection you held for Clive into that kiss in hopes it’d make its way to his soul. Humming in delight as you felt him practically bruise your lips with the force of his kiss that burned with a fierce passion that at some points you felt as though you couldn’t keep up with him.

You knew Clive had a whole lot of love to give to the point where it became overwhelming and consumed every action he did, from the way he protected others, to the way he was currently holding onto you as though you were the last flicker of light in his life; which you might as well be. His grip was firm and strong but while also being gentle and cautious as not to bring you bodily harm, because god knows Clive would never forgive himself if he was the main reason you were hurt, as proven multiple times where you had gotten hurt saving his ass and you’d awaken up with Clive at bedside, holding your hand within his larger and warmer ones; it felt as though your hand was trapped within the depths of a campfire. Comforting and warm.

‘What have I done to deserve you, my love?’ Clive whispered against your lips upon pulling away but consciously choosing to stay within proximity of you in hopes that your words and love would continue to rub off on him like they have for as long as you both been lovers. You smiled, bringing your hands up to his scruffy jaw, enjoying the prickly sensation that kissed the pads of your fingertips deliciously. ‘You were just yourself my star, I was just merely captivated by your beauty and the way you treated others as equals and fell deeply in love ever since.’

‘What about now?’ Clive asked you.

You pecked his lips, ‘I’m still falling my star, I’m still falling.’

[olessan]

BENJAMIN...

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑱𝑶𝑺𝑯𝑼𝑨 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑫 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑰𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ joshua rosfield x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni | kinktober '24 day 2

tags : pwp (without plot), but porn with feelings (declarations of love) … because it’s joshua, poetic words and prose (again… because it’s joshua), temperature play (fire), inappropriate use of magic, not very realistic in like any sense really (you have been warned), heavy petting, kissing, marking, nipple play, clit play, fingering, orgasm denial, but this is mostly sickly-sweet and soft, praise (lots and lots of it), use of pet names “my love” “my lady” “my darling”. lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 1.8k

an : a lot of liberties were taken with joshua’s usage of the phoenix’s powers here but…… it was about time i wrote for him hfajashjsd this is incredibly self-indulgent i wrote this 100% for me LMAO

taglist : @interstellar-inn @pixelcafe-network @chemiru (SIGN UP HERE)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST / KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

Where you decide to play with fire.

���Mmh… ‘Shua…”

Your neck craned, leaning back into him. Wet, open-mouthed kisses trailed over your exposed skin, hot breath raising goosebumps in their wake… You were laid out open for him, without any choice but to allow him to fondle you as he wished.

…Yet, his touch was so gentle. 

With one arm splayed across your torso to keep you steady against him, the other caressed your naked body, roaming around your skin with feather-light touches as if to ease you into it. He knew exactly what you craved, exactly the sort of things to bring you the pleasure he had always known you deserved. Being cradled in his arms like this was more than you could wish for. You could feel vulnerable, but more than that, you felt… safe.

“How beautiful you are, my love,” he murmured.

His voice rang soft and comforting against your ear.

“A most heavenly demise; one that I would take, and gladly accept for my own. My darling, I could ravish you.”

Despite the moan that edged from your lips as his hand slid deftly between your thighs, his words brought upon you a certain sense of giddiness. Your head tilted back, and you laughed softly through your nose, eyes half-lidded to chase his lips for a kiss—naturally, it was one that he would never deny you of.

“Such words, ” you whispered with a playful roll of your eyes. Your own hand reached up to run through his locks, and when your eyes met, the sheer endearment that had settled in his features was enough to have you drawing a breath.

Again he nudged at you with the tip of his nose, ghosting a kiss, breathing out a laugh to match your own. When he spoke next, there was a teasing lilt to his voice—a grin that you would have heard, had you not been seeing it in front of you in that moment.

“ Ah, but were they not true, my lady, you know well that I wouldn’t have spoken.”

“Hmm? Then, by your words… You would spoil me for your own, Your Grace?”

He nuzzled against your cheek, thumbing the plush of your inner thigh.

“As I have, I will do.”

Simple words.

Simple, yet, from him, they proved enough. 

Your hand moved from his hair to his cheek, coaxing from him yet another kiss. This time, you allowed him to part your legs.

“And as I have ever done, I would surrender myself to you, body and soul,” you murmured. Your lips brushed against his as you spoke, the proximity of you both nearly as intoxicating as the anticipation of what he would give you. “You know that you have me, Joshua. It is I who should be thanking the heavens for the home that I have found in your heart.”

A slow breath fell from his lips, fingers dipping downwards to gather the slick between your folds. The sound of it—such obvious arousal as the squelch of your wetness became a noise that he was drawn to—caused your cheeks to flush. It was unimaginable to you how easily you had submitted to his touch, legs spreading wider, eyes drawn to the sight of his hand at your core. Unbecoming of a lady, one would think; yet Joshua would always call you otherwise.

“Perfect,” he sighed.

A word that he reserved always for you.

Yet even as he said that, the amusement in his voice didn’t quite seem to waver. 

“But you would dare to speak of my words when you could tell me such beautiful things?” he shook his head. “You are a vixen, my lady. I would scarcely be able to keep myself in check should you speak another word.”

Your breathing turned shallow.

His finger dragged upwards, spreading your slick all over your folds, before sliding back down to catch as much as you would leak. He circled your entrance, never quite pushing in, before repeating the motions and moving up once more.

Your clit was throbbing.

He would tease; he always would—lips pressed back against your ear, breath hot against your skin to have you shiver in his hold. He wouldn’t give you attention where you needed it the most, always keen on having you thrashing around in his arms before indulging.

For him to speak of such manners?

You could nearly scoff.

“Joshua, when have you ever?”

Your words were not a complaint, but a mere fact. 

He chuckled at that, a low rumble directly into your ear before darting his tongue out to give it a tentative lick.

“But, my love…”

His hand drew out from between your legs, trailing up over your abdomen in a mesmerizing yet excruciatingly slow motion. Your hips bucked, but to no avail; he would allow no chasing the very pleasure that he had almost just given you.

And then you saw it.

You felt it.

The way the tips of his fingers would glow bright like burning ember, heat emanating off of his hand and directly onto your body.

You gasped, your body arching upwards off of him.

“You like it.”

It was his statement that, this time, proved nothing but a fact.

Your lips parted as you drew in a shaky breath, watching as his hand moved across you.

The pain was there, undeniably—such raw heat was searing.

Yet, Joshua was gentle.

Sparks of his flames would skim all over your skin, hand never staying in one place, almost as if to cover you entirely with his heat—at least as much as he could. Everywhere he moved, his touch was hot, almost searing, sliding up and down every curve of your body. He left a trail behind, the heat of it bubbling a moan from your throat—a beautiful streak of red, nearly glowing against your flesh.

And every essence of him exuded warmth.

A warmth that you were comfortable with.

A warmth he knew you loved.

Perhaps, being with him had always amounted to that—the flames had never scared you. You thrived within them; the home that you had found burned brighter than you could have ever longed for, and there was nothing you would give to change it.

Now, too, was no exception.

“Joshua…” you gasped out his name, feeling both his hands at work on you this time, grasping your breasts, kneading the flesh in a way that made him sigh against the side of your cheek. And it was all the reply you would get before his thumbs rubbed against your hardened nubs, the heat from his touch making you jolt in surprise.

Slowly, as if to soothe, he turned his head to bring you into a tender kiss.

Velvet lips moved against yours in that loving manner that made you melt, your fingers slowly moving back into his hair as if to pull him closer to you— closer to you. Because when he kissed you like this, you wished that he would never stop. That time would stop. That this moment could last forever, and he would be with you.

It worked to distract you, his fingers never stopping. He toyed with your nipples—rubbed and pulled, circled around, just in that way he knew you liked best. He would smile into the kiss every time he swallowed a moan—he knew that he was rendering your breasts sensitive, and swollen, and used, yet he would keep pulling you back onto his lips, sweetly taking your mind off of that slight sting of pain you would feel from him.

And then his hand moved downwards.

This time he pulled away from the kiss, a satisfied smile ghosting his features as he shifted to rest on your shoulder in favor of watching.

Your breath hitched. 

You felt almost feverish, the rush of anticipation having you lightheaded until finally— finally—

“Joshua!”

A cry of his name left your lips as he dipped between your legs, easily making contact with your needy, dripping folds.

The sensation made you shudder.

His fingers slid again through your folds, barely brushing against your clit, allowing that glowing, red heat to radiate against it in a way that had your eyes squeezing shut.

“ Breathe, my love,” he whispered. “I have you. I always have you.”

There was a question in his movements.

His head raised to look at you, chaste kiss placed on your lips, hand lifting off of your mound tentatively.

A raspy moan of encouragement was all that you could offer to him, weakly nodding your head, but it was enough.

“That’s my good girl.”

He didn’t give you time to dwell on it any longer—

His fingers slipped inside you, heated touch dipping into your gummy walls, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Oh!” you cried; a lack of coherency taking over your tongue as you tried, and failed, to properly sound out his name.

Your hands reached to grip at the sheets, at his body, anything —

Joshua continued to move his fingers.

In and out, in and out. Slowly; allowing you to get used to the sensation, yet fast enough to focus on the pleasure it brought. Soft whispers of sweet nothings into your ear had you arching your back, pushing your hips into his hand. He continued to thrust—matching your pace, curling upwards to hit that spot with an added intensity that had you gasping.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice almost sounding like a sigh. “Lift your hips, my love, just like that. Such a perfect, wonderful girl.”

Your lower lip trembled, tears pricking at your eyes. And the warm lamplight illuminating the room fluttered, and the added light from his flames projecting your silhouettes on the wall in a display of passion.

“J- Joshua…” 

You swallowed thickly, choking out a moan.

His thumb shifted to rub against your clit, side to side, a collective pace that matched his thrusts.

Always in the very way that pleasured you.

Always for you.

“Here, my lady?” he smiled as you continued to buck against him. “This spot, right here? Should I…”

Another cry from your lips, head shaking back and forth at your loss of proper words to convey.

The knot in your stomach coiled unbearably tightly, a final cry tearing free from your throat;

“Please, Your Grace, I’m—!”

His fingers pulled out, hand lifting, the glow of his flames dissipating into blue specks of aether that you knew all too well.

Nothing.

Only a gasp.

Your eyes widened and your hips bucked up, walls clenching around nothing as you cried out in protest.

“Joshua!”

You turned to him, aghast, continuing the rhythmic flutter of your cunt as the feeling of your orgasm quickly faded away.

And he smiled.

Still with the audacity to be soft, still with the audacity to look so endearing, he gently pushed you down onto the bed, figure looming over you as you caught your breath.

“Please, my darling, I said I would ravish you, did I not?”

He looked pleased with himself, his voice a melodious hum.

Yet his head lowered, resting against yours. You could feel the flutter of his eyelashes—a different form of a kiss, you recalled. And it was one that he would often use with you to provide comfort.

“You are a tease, Lord Rosfield!” you huffed.

He nuzzled your nose with a soft laugh.

“Only because I couldn’t possibly be done with you yet.”

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[drabblesandimagines]

Prescription

Clive Rosfield x fem reader Fluffy fluff, bit of injury

“Nearly there,” Clive murmurs as you take another painful step towards the infirmary. You think the words are more for his benefit that this ordeal is nearly over. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, he’d offered to carry you multiple times, but you’d refused his offer and, being Clive, he was hardly going to go against a lady’s wishes.

You know he’s probably confused as to why you’d refuse his assistance. You’ve bested men twice your size in battle, so it can’t be that you’re worried you’ll appear weak, that if Otto, Gav or the other Cursebreakers catch sight of you being carried back to the Hideaway in his arms they’ll mollycoddle you for weeks. It’s perhaps more embarrassing than that – it’s the thought of being held in his muscular arms, against his chest that already sets your heart pounding, a flush to your cheeks… And if that’s the sort of effect the thought had on your body, you dread to think what actually being in his arms will result in.

Besides, your injuries weren’t that bad… once Clive had compressed them with bandages from his pouch and you hadn’t even been that far from the docks when it had occurred. You could make it to the boat and then up to the infirmary at the Hideaway without any need to be cradled in your crush’s arms.

Clive had compromised on you leaning against him, your arm around his waist, your fingers gripped into the laces down the side, and his arm hooked around your upper back, taking the majority of the weight off your injured leg and side. You’re just hoping if he can feel your heart pounding, he’ll think it’s the adrenaline from the fight and injury wearing off.

They were injuries you’d taken defending him, to his horror. As the two of you had walked back down the slope towards the small dock where Obolus was waiting in his skiff, a lone Black Shield had lunged out of the undergrowth, his sword straight at Clive’s neck. As you drew your blade from your side, you’d elbowed Clive back, him stumbling down the slope as yours and the assailant’s blade clashed but the momentum he had built sent you spinning, and he’d got a good slice in your hip. Stopping your momentum, you’d managed to get him in his shoulder, pushing him down onto his knees before he got another swipe at your calf and then your blade swiped across his throat. It was all over in a matter of seconds, Clive’s sword only just drawn as he stumbled back up the hill.

Torgal whines, sensing your discomfort. He’d been waiting at the dock as the boat had pulled in, Obolus commenting that he hoped your blood hadn’t stained the timber.

“Oh, Torgal, don’t you start.” You pout down at the wolf.

“What happened?” Jill’s panicked voice comes from the level above, hurrying down the flight of stairs to meet you at the infirmary door.

“It’s not-“

“It is not nothing.” Clive growls, though you know it’s in frustration at himself. “She sustained it defending me.” Jill gives you an exasperated look before pushing the door open, holding it wide for the two of you enter. Tarja is leant over a desk, swiveling her head round at the noise of company.

Her eyes narrow as she sees the blood-stained bandages around your leg and side, before she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Honestly, Clive, you made her walk?”

“I did no such thing. She refused to let me carry her.”

“Well, I’m overruling that refusal.” Tarja comments, pointing to a bed. Clive doesn’t hesitate then – Tarja always got her way - swiftly hooking his arm under your knees, though mindful not to touch your wound, and sweeps you up, resulting in your half-gasped protest. He strides over to the bed in what feels like two steps – your heart hammering - and places you down gently.

“See, wouldn’t that have been much easier?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You say lightly, as he hovers over you perhaps a moment too long. He forces a smile – one you’ve seen when he’s pretending to be care-free.

“Right, Clive – out.” Tarja orders, gathering a tray of medical supplies to bring over to the bed.

“Right. Erm… Take care. Send word if you need anything, or…”

“Out.” Tarja reiterates.

He raises his hand in acknowledgement and strides out – his shoulders sagging as he does.

Tarja makes quick work of removing the soiled bandages, mumbling under her breath – curses at your stubbornness, you suspect, but you leave her to her work and stay still like a good patient.

“Jill, I think these trousers and shirt are done for. Can you see if Hortense has anything spare?”

“Of course.” Jill smiles. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You hear the door shut and continue to stare up at the ceiling, breathing in and out as Tarja moves on to cleaning your wounds with a rather stinging concoction.

“Good news, you’ll live.” She leans back from your bedside and turns to the tray, retrieving some items.

“That sounds like there’s bad news…”

“Well…” Tarja holds aloft the needle and thread. “The bad news is you’ll need stitches.”

“Ah.”

“Deep breath and we’ll get started.”

It shouldn’t, you know it shouldn’t, but the needle piercing into your flesh hurts more than the sword that caused the injury did and you tense.

“Deep breath. First one’s the worst.”

Except it wasn’t, not for you. After a few more reminders to breathe, the healer lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re too tense,” Tarja chides, leaning back. “You need to relax, otherwise the stitches will be too taut and it’ll split the second you take a step.”

“Sorry, Tarja, it’s not exactly a relaxing activity.”

“Do you want me to call for Clive to hold your hand?” The door opens. “Oh, maybe he could unbutton his shirt as a distraction…”

“Who, Clive?” Jill’s voice teases.

“Stop it, it’s not like that.”

“Mm-hm.” The two women are synchronized and you can feel your face burning. Besides, if anything, Clive with an unbuttoned shirt would make you more tense…

“Hortense says she thinks she can salvage your clothes, but she had a spare dress she reckons will fit you until then.” Jill appears above you, holding up a plain blue dress. It’ll do, certainly. You doubt you’ll be out on any assignments the rest of the week.

“Thank you.”

Tarja places the needle down on the tray and gets to her feet, heading over to the apothecary drawers and rummaging through one. She returns with a small vial.

“Right, drink.”

“What is it?”

“It’ll make you relax, that’s all. Non-drowsy.”

You pop the cork off – the thing smells foul – but you know you’re in trouble with Tarja enough now so you do as you’re told, downing it in one.

A minute or so later, you feel your muscles unconsciously relax, releasing a lot of tension in places you weren’t aware you had it. Tarja murmurs her approval and sets to work stitching up your wounds in no time, before applying a salve and new bandages and helping you out of your blood-stained clothes and into your borrowed dress with no protest. Not for want of trying but her look enough when you’d opened your mouth as she told you to put your arms up was enough.

“Stay.” The red-head orders and gets to her feet, taking the tray with her to be sanitized.

“How do you feel?” Jill asks, as kind as ever. She’s by your bedside, folding up your ruined clothes. You can sense she’s itching to get them to Hortense.

“Fine. It’s not a big deal.” You shrug lightly – your tone a little lighter than you’d wanted it to be. “Can’t I go now?”

“No, you need to wait for that relaxant to wear off. You stand up and your legs will collapse under you like a flan.” Tarja calls over. “Stay in bed.” The door opens. “Well, well, well,” Gav’s voice. “I should’ve known you were in here… given the welcome I got from our beloved leader.”

“What welcome?”

“Gav, this isn’t the tavern – this is the infirmary.” The healer chides.

“But it’s not safe at the Tub and Crown.” Gav approaches your bed, placing his hands on his hips. “Clive’s hunting down a sparring partner and it’s not going to be me with that attitude. He’s got the same look in his eyes the last time you got hurt and he splintered all the training swords.”

“Well, the lady here wouldn’t let him carry her.” Jill reveals. “I’ll take these clothes to Hortense.” She heads towards the door, clutching the cloth to her chest.

“Oh, you’ll have wounded his pride with that!” Gav chuckles. “What with his court manners, ever the chivalrous gent. Why wouldn’t you indulge the poor man – I thought he’d caught your fancy, no?”

“Gav, no, that’s not… Shush.” You protest, though the colour in your cheeks betrays you once more.

“You should let him out of his bloody misery – we all know he’s not going to be the first, so you’ve got to be the brave one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tarja joins Gav at your bedside, placing her hands on her hips once more. “Please. The whole Hideaway knows by now. Even Otto asked me what the hold-up was.”

“The Hideaway is wrong.” You bite your lip and the next sentence comes out in a tumble of words before you can even really think about it. “Besides… if I confessed I’d just embarrass myself – he’s Clive Rosfield.”

“And?”

“And I’m me, Gav.” “Yes, you – a former Branded Bearer turned Cursebreaker, defender of the previous Hideaway, scourge of the Black Shields…” Gav lists off your achievements, sounding incredulous with every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Exactly.” You nod. “Me.”

“Not seeing your point. Don’t tell me you’re scared of sharing your feelings but you’ll go stare down a Morbol easy as anything on a morning.”

“You know, I think she is,” Tarja teases.

“Maybe you could send it in a missive, if you’re too scared of face-to-face. Leave it on his desk, like.”

“Or get Gaute to put it in the reports – he’s always checking those.”

“Yeah, or stick it on the bulletin board…!”

“Okay, fine!” Tarja and Gav pause in their banter and stare at you, smiles still plastered on their faces. “How about I walk up to him at the Cursebreakers' intelligence briefing and tell him that my heart pounds wherever he glances in my direction? What about I stand up on a table at the Tub and Crown and tell him about how it feels like lightning is shooting through my veins for days after any touch we share? How about I meet him in the training pit and tell him I would gladly stand in front of an enemy blade every single day if it meant that he was safe and unharmed.” Your voice is getting louder, your emotions bubbling to the surface, your tongue so relaxed it has a mind of its own. You slide over in the bed, hanging your legs off the side. You can tell Tarja wants to interrupt but you’re on too much of a roll.

“How about I walk into Clive Rosfield’s chambers and announce that I’m in love with him, that I have been for years? That when I lay in bed my thoughts are consumed with him and that low-cut shirt, those broad shoulders and how much I wish he’d take me in his arms and…”

“I did offer - multiple times - and you declined.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of Clive’s voice from the door and you freeze. No, no, no.

“I think that’s my cue.” Gav chuckles, slapping his thighs and getting to his feet, Tarja following. Maybe you could faint? That would make Tarja stay…

The healer pauses, placing a hand on Clive’s shoulder. “Be kind, Clive. I gave her a relaxant for the stitches. I think it relaxed her tongue perhaps a little more than she’d like.”

“Noted.” Why does he sound so amused? She whispers something in his ear and you hear her and Gav’s footsteps leave the infirmary.

You can’t move, can’t look up – horrified of what is about to happen.

His footsteps sound painfully slow until you see his boots by the side of the bed and he crouches down in front of you, trying to catch your gaze. His gloved fingers grasp your chin, gently, tilting your head up to meet his eyes when you refuse.

“Shouldn’t you be lying down? I believe Tarja hasn’t discharged you yet.”

He lets go, a soft smile on his face, as you swallow and shuffle back, carefully, lifting your legs back on the bed and resting your back against the pillow.

There’s a moment of silence before you find your voice. “Clive, what you heard…”

“Is that why you wouldn’t allow me to carry you earlier?”

“Kind of. I just… It would’ve been…” You’re completely tongue-tied. How can you get yourself out of this hole? Why is he smiling?!

“I cannot tell you how long my thoughts have been consumed with ones such as you in my arms… my darling.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Though I must clarify not because you are injured, but I’m upset you’d deny me of the pleasure all the same. I do, however, wish it hadn’t taken you getting injured and a concoction of Tarja’s to hear you boldly return my feelings.” You’re still too stunned to speak.

“May I request a kiss of my beloved?”

A realization hits you. “I died, didn’t I?”

“Let me reassure you this is very real.” He leans forward, placing his palm on your cheek and a chaste kiss on your lips. There’s a delicious smirk on his face as he leans back.

“No, I’m… I’m not sure I felt that, you should reassure me again.”

Clive chuckles, taking your hand and rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

“I’m afraid your physician only permitted me the one kiss in your recovery, but once you’re discharged…”

By the Mothers.

--

I love him. Asks are open for requests - FF16 characters hit me up x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[robo-writing]

Words Unspoken, Actions Taken

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader (AFAB, female pronouns. no Y/N) Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Word Count: 1.9k words 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. Read on AO3! Warnings: Dom! Clive, angry sex, elements of degradation, p in v actions, unprotected sex, fluff (if you squint) Author's Note: Hey y'all, the world was sorely lacking in Clive fics, so I'm doing my part to change that. I love this depressed man and his slutty little waist too much to NOT write for him. Spoilers for a certain character's death, so if you haven't gotten that far, don't read ahead. Update: There's a sequel now!

You’re not surprised you ended up like this, quite the opposite in fact. Clive Rosfield, also known as Cid, your faithful leader and the very symbol of hope to every lost soul who found their way under his wing. A beacon to guide them towards a better life, and to change the world for the better. The very same leader who regularly risked his life for the greater good, much to your dismay, without so much as any concern to himself. 

He was already somewhat of an errand boy when you had first met him, but after Cid died it grew tenfold. The hideaway, the resistance, the increase of bearer violence, it was all too much. He told you as much after you found him one night drinking alone in his room, a hushed confession under the cover of night that without you he wouldn’t have made it this far and you’d be a liar if the memory didn’t make you feel some kind of way. Despite that, he kept on shouldering more and more responsibility, to the point that it was commonplace to have him leave for days on end, returning one day only to be gone the next. It was concerning to the other residents, but most of all to you. 

You admired his efforts, truly. It was noble, but eventually it would catch up to him. You tried to tell him as much, but he would just wave you away and reassure you that he can handle himself.

You’ve seen him fight, you’re well aware of his talents with a blade, but all the training in the world can’t substitute a good night's rest. What happens if he worked himself to death, found himself behind enemy lines and never returned? 

You couldn’t stand to think about it. You worried about him, and in your worry you found yourself growing resentful of his apparent ignorance towards his own well-being. But you held your tongue, forced to keep your emotions to yourself because if nothing else, having him worry about you would only serve to be another item on his long list of responsibilities. You tried, you really did. And then he came back from a mission beaten to hell. Tarja, talented as she was, only barely brought him back from the brink. He was in bed rest for weeks before he was allowed to leave, and in that time your resentment grew to anger. Was it immature? Yes. Did you care? Not particularly. Your attitude change was obvious to anyone in the Hideaway, most of all to Clive, but he figured you were just in a mood, maybe something had happened while he was recovering. In any case, you two were close, you would tell him eventually. It was only after he returned from his latest life-threatening mission that he realized that you were mad at him. Again, you tried to hold yourself back, but when you saw how ignorant he was you couldn’t take it anymore. Words were said, some of which came from a place of genuine care. The others, however… “You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you kill yourself—” You hissed at him, pacing around the floor of his office. It was there the two of you stood, a back and forth with no end. “I need to carry on his name, his legacy—” He raises his voice before stopping himself to take a shaky breath. “I need to live up to his dream. Don’t you understand that?” “Oh I understand plenty,” You fume. You’re not quite sure where this malice came from, but it was all consuming, ever burning. “Don’t you know that I—we need you here? Alive?” He shakes his head and he says something about his duty and his obligations and you’re completely over it, obviously anything you say is going in one ear and out the other. “Do you think Cid would want you to work yourself to death?” You ask, concern written on your face. “Do you think he’d be proud to see you take no care to yourself?” He doesn’t even look at you anymore, his head bowed. “If it’s for the good of the cause—” You interrupt him before he can say another word. “If you genuinely believe that then you’ll end up dead, and his sacrifice would’ve been for nothing.” The silence that follows is deafening. His footsteps ring heavy in your ears, moving closer and closer. “What did you just say?” The anger in his voice is apparent. You’ve never seen him like this before, a rage normally reserved for his enemies directed towards you.

You probably should’ve stopped, but you didn’t. “I said, if you truly believe that then you’re wasting the chance Cid gave you.” You look up at him unwavering, consequences be damned. He needed to hear this. Clive stood unmoving, an unknown emotion swirling in those vibrant blue eyes of his. “Be careful of what you say next.” And then it broke. The dam holding everything you held back before shattering into pieces and before you knew it you were awash with emotion. “You’re a bastard Clive, if you truly can’t see how you’re hurting the people around you by acting like a complete fucking idiot, then you don’t deserve his legacy or his name.” You wanted him to get mad, wanted him to feel the way you’ve felt for a while now. What happens next is a blur, limbs entangled and skin exposed, but based on how fast the front of your body met the desk, you met your goal. “Couldn’t just keep your mouth shut, fuck—,” He hisses above you, but you’re too far gone to care. You have been for a while, too lost in the feeling of his hands against your hips, his cock dragging against you deliciously. “Just had to keep testing me—” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you let him have his way with you. Your body completely under his control, every gasp of his name only serving to feed his ego, encouraging him to go faster, harder, more, more, more—

“Clive—!” “That’s right, say my fucking name—” If the squeaking of the old wooden desk he’s taken you on wasn’t already a sign of what was happening in the room, the shameless moans escaping your lips would be. “Let the entire hideaway know whose cock you’re begging for.”

You do, without any thought to how loud you may be.

The force of his thrusts are brutal against your backside, your body aching and yet you can’t stop moving, desperately trying to meet his every thrust. It’s hopeless, but he seems to enjoy your attempts at least, a wicked chuckle escaping him as he watches your body move on his own. “Is this what you wanted, hm? To be used like a pleasure girl?” His body is pressed against your back now, the full weight of him blanketed against you. Your breath catches in your throat, his lips whispering absolute filth into your ear. “Upset you couldn’t have me all to yourself? Don’t worry, I’m right here.” His tone is cruel, mocking. “I’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”

He doesn’t stop moving, how could he when you sound absolutely debauched below him, a picture perfect image of sin to be molded by his own hands. He fucks you just as he fights, ferocious, unyielding, unrelenting, finding every single one of your weaknesses and taking advantage of them until you cry out that it’s too much, that you can’t take it, and doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve. A glutton of your own making. He laughs, a sound so far separated from his normal self that you almost don’t recognize it as him. “Come now darling, you were ready to spit venom at me before, where’s all that fire gone?” He breathes unevenly, a hand moving to push your head further down. He’s taunting you, dangling your own shameful display in front of your very eyes. Even if you wanted to respond you couldn’t, the sound of your hips meeting, echoing through the room proved answer enough. “Clive—fuck—please ‘m sorry—” Your body is racked with shudders, whimpering when he runs a single hand down your spine, forcing you to arch even further and have him reach that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard you.” He sneers from above. You mumble into the desk, unable to bring your head up to speak. “I’m sorry, please, can’t take it, too much, pleasepleaseplease—”

A hand around your throat silences you, his lips grazing against your ear once more. “Oh no, I don’t believe that for a second.”

He lets you go, only for that same hand to grab your face, fingers pressing against your cheeks. He forces your tear-rimmed eyes to gaze at him from below, a contrast to the sinister look in his own. “Can’t take it? Too much? I don’t think that’s true—” Another hard thrust has you keening, back arching, a fog of lust clouding your brain. “—I think you’re going to take everything I give and more.” He’s right of course, and you do, graciously. Your legs threaten to give out, shaking, barely holding on, and in an act of mercy he grabs your weakened limbs with a strong hand. Practically a rag doll at this point, he lays you onto the desk, legs wrapped around his body to bring him as close as possible. You can see him in this position, see the way his brows crease and furrow every time you clench onto his cock, the pleased grin that lingers when you grab onto his arms, seeking purchase. It’s filthy. Clive doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

To watch his advisor fall apart at his hands, to drown in waves of pleasure begging for more, please, I need more—

It’s addicting, sadistic in ways he never thought himself capable of. He can’t get enough. A painful dance of give and take. He gives pleasure and takes your very sanity with it. He takes and takes until you’ve nothing left to give, until you’re a writhing mess of slurred words and half-mumbled promises. He can barely understand you at this point, your mind far away, but he doesn’t need to. He can understand your body well enough. “Clive, please—” You gasp, nails dragging deliciously against his back. You don’t have to speak, he knows what you want before you do. Without another second of hesitation his fingers move vigorously against your sensitive nub, and if he thought you were gone before the feeling of his deft hands working against your sex send you to new heights. The choked noise that escapes you is downright heavenly. “Gods above—!”

He’d be flattered if he wasn’t so busy fucking you into next week. Sweat clings onto your skin, and for a moment he conjures up an image of an angel, the sheen highlighting you in such a way you almost seem to glow. And then he watches your eyes roll, feels your pussy clench against his cock and you fall over the edge with his name on your lips like a prayer, and thinks to himself that you’re more of a devil than a saint.  Your breathing is ragged, completely spent, nearly delirious with desire.

But nearly is not enough for him.

So his hips still grind against you, and you’re far too weak to resist him, not that you would have in the first place. A give and take, and Clive was always a little greedy.

“We’re not done yet, my dear. Not by a long shot.”

[xxladyballadxx]

Open Your Heart

Joshua Rosfield x Reader

Summary: Your lover Joshua Rosfield, the dominant of Phoenix, urges you to open up to him instead of always pushing him away. 

(Note: This is quite similar to the one I wrote ages ago)

~ dividers by @/cafekitsune ~

You were never the type to talk about your feelings to anyone, even Joshua. He has been very concerned about your wellbeing. So is everyone at the hideaway. The other day, Jill knew something was wrong with you and she wanted to comfort you. You pushed her away and gave her the cold shoulder. Which made her upset and more worried. 

Next was Clive coming to try and talk to you, he even summoned you to his chambers wishing to speak to you in private. He said to you once that if you ever feel sad or angry, you can always talk to him or Jill. You did none of that. None. You continued to behave like this and not to talk to anyone about how you’re feeling. 

Clive didn’t have the urge to stop you from leaving his chambers so he just sat there, not knowing what to do. When Joshua came back from his journey, Clive had a word with him talking about you. 

Joshua told his older brother that you have been avoiding him quite a lot these past few days, he wondered why and Clive wasn’t really happy about it. He didn’t appreciate your behavior towards his own younger brother, even to Jill. Joshua promised Clive that he will talk to you. He rushed to your room and beat your door with a knock, “(Y/n)? Are you in there?” 

“Please go away…” You mumbled, urging him to leave you alone. You know Joshua, he’s not going to leave until you tell him what’s wrong. Joshua sighed, having no choice but to open the door and slammed it in anger behind him, “Do you truly mean to hurt me this way, (Y/n)? By pushing me away and not talking to me about the things that are bothering you? ” 

“Joshua, I-” Your words were cut off when Joshua marched closer to you, dropping on one knee and holding your hand, “Please do not continue to hurt me like this, (Y/n). I don’t want you to keep pushing me away…” his gaze was too sad to look at. Even though you couldn’t look away from him. By the tone of his voice, you could tell that he was hurting. Hurting for you. He sat by you on your bed, still holding your hand, “Open your heart to me, (Y/n), don’t keep it shut forever…” 

You heaved a long-short sigh of defeat, finally making eye contact with Joshua by your side. Perhaps you were too aloof towards him, to Clive and everyone. This helped you to realize that you’ve been shutting yourself away from people that care about you, even Joshua….

You buried your face sorrowfully into your hands, breaking down in tears as Joshua held you in his arms, “I’m so sorry…” you mumbled a apology in a low voice, “I’m just so fucking tired…” You looked up to Joshua in the eye with that crying face, “All this bloodshed, the war, everything. I don’t even know where to start. Ever since my family abandoned me of what I’ve become so long ago, I’ve been feeling so isolated and lost. Every night, I get nightmares of everyone I know leaving me… ”

Joshua felt a sting of pain deep in his heart, he hates to see you like this so much that it saddens him whenever you feel like the whole world is falling all around you. Tearing you apart piece by piece, bone by bone. “I wonder if I deserve to live or not. I asked myself that every day. I even wonder if people will care if I’m gone…” your words were deeper than a sword, it became a poison to Joshua. It wounded him mentally and physically, his heart shattered when you said those things. You were being very hard on yourself and Joshua is hurting because of those words that upset up entirely. 

“(Y/n), please don’t say those things like that. You know how much it hurts me!” Joshua cried with his voice breaking, his eyes were becoming watery but you couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry or not, “I would never truly be myself if you were gone.” He tightened the hold on your hand, his gaze locked on you, “I will never forgive myself if anything happens to you. Without you, (Y/n), I am empty. My life won’t be the same without you.” 

Does he actually mean that? 

Of course he does…

Your heart cried out after hearing those words from him, the little cracks on your heart were slowly beginning to fade. Your eyes created a stream of tears, sliding down to your pale-salted cheeks. 

Joshua snooped you into his arms, your head attached to his chest as he embraced you tenderly. “You are my greatest gift to me, (Y/n) and I am truly blessed to have you in my life. Never forget you will always have me…and the others too.” 

“I’m so sorry, Joshua…” you whimpered, your crying face still buried on his chest. 

“It’s alright, my love.” 

“I need to go and apologize to Clive and Jill for my unacceptable behavior….” 

“I will come with you, love.” 

~~~~~~~~

You gave a few knocks on Clive’s door, you have this feeling that he’s going to open with that scowling look on his face. Once the door was opened by him, no sense of anger came from him “(Y/n)..” Clive looked at you with worry, he didn’t seem angry. 

“Clive I’m-” you were interrupted when Jill rushed past Clive to hug you in comfort, “(Y/n)! We were so worried about you!” you returned the hug as you apologized, “I’m sorry for the other day, I didn’t mean to upset you both. Same with Joshua and everyone else here. It was never intentional…”

Clive smiled serenely, “What matters now is that you're feeling better, (Y/n). Remember that you are never alone.” 

“All is forgiven, (Y/n).” Says Jill with a reassuring soft smile, “We will always look out for you. Just know that we support you all the way. If you ever need someone to talk to, me and Clive will be here to listen.” 

You hugged Jill once again and then next was Clive, “Thank you…I can’t tell how much this means to me..” 

All was sorted out to the end, you thought Clive would be mad for you hurting Jill’s feelings. He wasn’t at all. He accepted your apology as he and Jill comforted you. It seemed that Clive didn’t want to upset you more by being angry with you, that could be the reason why. 

Joshua dragged you to the balcony to watch the horizon with him. You motioned your body to cuddle up next to his, holding his arm with such tenderness. He smiled gracefully down to you, pecking a kiss on your forehead and looked back to the scenery with the sun’s bliss of radiant glow flowing across the horizon. 

“It’s beautiful…” 

“Yes but…” Joshua turned to you as he pressed down his hands softly onto your shoulders, leaning to collide his lips towards yours, “Not as beautiful as you are, my love.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

a/n - Is it just me or are there not enough fanfics of Joshua Rosfield fanfics on here? (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

Anyways, hope you all liked this!

UNTIL NEXT TIME 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[qvrcll]

no smooth roads for us

Summary: Clive tries to keep his strength at bay. You admonish him for it. Warnings: explicit content / NSFW, rough sex, female reader anatomy, use of the word ‘minx’, dirty talk. A/N: My first time writing for Clive! This was a journey. I want to keep writing for him — reblog’s / comments are always appreciated! :)

You discover quickly that Clive fucks you like he fights.

It starts with the gentlest of kisses, searing hot like a burn from the sun itself. Shy, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. He remedies that by driving you against him till there is no space to give, only his chest that beats with some gratifying noise when you’re bare and naked for him to witness every inch of it.

You don’t tell him, but you like it when you holds you close and fucks you rough. His fingers, calloused with the fatal semblance of war, prove your excitement as they prod and grope at your skin experimentally. He’d fucked you rough once before and refrained from it again — a fear of breaking you, he thinks. He plays it soft now.

When you moan, shudder against the splay of his fingers against the share of your muscle, the pebbled crest of your nipples, he leads his fingers further. Deeper. He tries to ignore the burning heat curdling at his hip, for you, but the intrusion against your thigh is so hard to miss.

Clive — please, touch me, comes your plea.

The madness in your voice makes the blood rush to his cock. It ruins him, makes him want to consume you whole right here, from the heat of his lap. He fights it, though, still, and his jaw bulges from the effort of it.

He begins again, tries to create and follow a slower acclivity. Maybe he could finger you, eat you out, pleasure you delicately beneath the weight of his hot, heavy fingers.

There — there you go, my love.

He splits you open deliciously slow and his remaining fingers swim against the wetness collecting on your clit. There’s a familiar rhythm amped by the joint effort of his fingers on and in your cunt but you want more of something different. A fuck thoroughly rough that you know he can manage.

It’s you who wrenches his hand from your cunt with a disappointing pop — he thinks he’s upset you in some shape or form, that he’s pleasured you too dully or too hard, but soon comes to learn that you’re acting like brat.

Come, now, my love — don’t be like that, he warns. His voice is addictively firm and set, which in turn fuels your need for more. You attempt to wiggle out his grip, piss him off further, but the flux presses against his throbbing, oozing cock, which has already spilt some of its seed against his stomach with the wait.

Don’t — his resolves works no more. His voice is more shout than reason, as he delivers your arms with a bruising feeling from the steely grip they have on them. He’s lost his patience, and his mind, pushing you into the ground with none of the prior promise of tenuity. You’ve angered him, gotten what you want finally.

Is this what you wanted, you minx? Are you happy?

He drives your ass into the floor, kneads it within the roughness of his palm like dough. On regular days, he would work you open till you were gushing and open to a guaranteed degree. Now, he primes his intrusion of your cunt with an animalistic growl, his cock pushing in till you’ve had your fill.

Rough enough?

He mocks you. Gives you no room to recover. Batters your cunt again and again with the rough slap of his hips. He grins wickedly when you cry hot, fat tears and goes to mock you once more.

Why are you crying? Isn’t this what you wanted? Could’ve sat still while I worked you open but you wanted it rough — I’m giving you rough.

You’d never thought it would be this good, this illusive. He flips you till your back faces him, and ploughs into you like none before, delivers messy and violent shocks across your body. There’s barely any touch to his ministrations, just push, as he drives your head against the floor — in the name of take it, take it, I know you can take it.

He suffocates your senses — you clamp harshly against his cock with a loud cry, unsure of your bearings. Your body spasms underneath the weight of his and when he finished with his business, taken his fill as he shatters inside you, he’s quick to smother the quickness of this violence.

I’m — I’m sorry — are you hurt? I got ahead of myself — I’m sorry, my love.

You hush him with shaking hands, and as much as your fingers reject motion, you cradle his cheeks in your palm. The reflective heat from them comforts Clive, leaves him with the blatant truth that this is what you had wanted — and now that you had it, you weren’t in it to stop.

There’s a strange curl to his lips, with the knowledge that comes to him softly in the after-burn.

He liked playing rough.

© 2023 qvrcll. Do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[rei-is-hiding]

me the entire time

[kianaflame23]

Final Fantasy XVI Clive Rosfield sfw and n*fw headcanons

Summary: Decided to write this because I'm bored and still hype for FFXVI! Finally able to pre-ordered deluxe edition. The State of Play FFXVI video was AMAZING! I LOVE IT! Hoping to buy PS5 before June 22nd!

NO MINORS! I WILL BLOCK YOU IF YOU DON'T SHOW YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO! ONLY 🔞!

I JUST LOVE CLIVE ROSFIELD! I'll do my best to write him more after the game is out! Enjoy reading it and hope you have a nice morning/day/night! ✨️

You know he's serious and does not like PDA. Clive is very affectionate when you are alone with him though. However, he will hold your hand while traveling together with the group.

Do not attempt to flirt anyone in front of him, you'll get your "punishment" if you don't pay attention to him or keep ignoring him.

Good luck on trying to calm him down as he decides to take you back to Cid's Hideaway, fucking you with such frustration and anger until you are filled with his cum. Most likely won't speak with you until he is ready to talk.

You need to remind him that you were just teasing him and only want him. Yes, he is a serious man and doesn't show his emotions, however, he'll be disappointed and heartbroken if you are using him for games and all...

Depending on your answer, Clive will forgive you. Giving you kisses and cuddles, feeling sorry for his intense behavior. Asking you if he was too rough on you... If he sees you crying as you explain about your bad experiences with men. Testing him if he's like those disgusting, cruel men....only craving for your body and nothing else...

Definitely will hate himself for being angry at you, saying "I'm sorry" over and over. Hugging you tightly as he kiss your forehead...

In the end, do not flirt anyone. If someone tries to flirt you or touching you without consent, then they will see true rage once they see Clive approaching them. Him glaring at them as his blue eyes growing cold and filled with hatred. He will kill them for you. A simple "yes" from you and he will do it. If you don't want to see any bloodshed and want to go somewhere safe, then he'll just punched them until they're unconscious. Pulling you closer to him as you leave the place.

Cheating and manipulation is a huge "no" for Clive. You have to be trustworthy and loyal to him if you want to be his lover. If you only care for his body and power, then Clive will NOT speak with you and will leave you. Like I said, he wants to be with someone who loves him and cares for him.

He is very protective of you. Clive will do anything to keep you safe. He'll be surprised, knowing that you'll do the same for him.

Please do praise him as you make love to him, Clive will moan as waves of pleasure and excitement takes over his body. You'll hear his soft whimpers if you keep telling him that you feel good because of him or saying "good boy" while pleasuring him...

He's a switch. Want him to be submissive for you? You can hear his cute moans coming out from his mouth, loving your lust in your eyes. Ready to "destroy" him in the bedroom.

Wear your favorite lipstick and kiss all over his body. Kiss him passionately, as you stroke his cock. Moaning louder as his hand grips the bedsheets, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

Tell him that you REALLY love his buff chest and you'll receive a smug grin on his face. Teasing you in the bed as he talk dirty to your ears...

Clive LOVES suck and lick your sweet flower, using his thumb to touch your clitoris. Allowing you to use his head as his tongue thrusting in and out of your pussy.

He will not admit it but he really love your breasts between his cock. That's right, he's into boobjob. Bonus if you suck his cock as your eyes fixated on his. Making him cum all over your mouth and face.

It is fine if you don't have huge chest. Clive still love you. He'll suck your nipples as he use his fingers on your pussy. Fingering you as he hears your moans.

If you want to try cowgirl position or any sex positions, he will do it. After all, you are his beloved darling.

You are his world, his moonlight...you are everything to him. Clive would like to stay with you forever.

If you tell him everything about your past, he will tell you about his little brother, Joshua, and why he is trying to find The Dominant. He will tell you stories about his childhood. Some memeories are good and some are not so great...Please do hug him. Clive truly deserves happiness. Comfort him too.

He doesn't mind if you aren't lady-like or not. He'll smile when you are with him. Telling you that you're beautiful, vowing that you'll be his wife when everything is over. Saving the world and all. Some day, he'll ask you if you want to be his queen.

If you want to start a family with him, then he'll protect you and the children. Making sure you don't stress yourself and eating properly. Especially if you're pregnant. It's fine if you want to adopted kids and wait until you are ready. He'll support your decision anyways.

For the meantime, he is happy to be with someone who is loving and caring. Supporting him and his decisions, Clive knows that you won't leave him and appreciate your help. Don't forget that he will always love you, protect you and support you.

Bonus ☆

His smile grows wider as he sees you and Torgal getting along, having a good time as you petted Torgal's head. Hearing your giggles cause his heart skip a beat, love and joy in his eyes. His heart practically pounding against his heart as he pulled you and Torgal in a hug, careful to not squeeze you two. He'll never forget this cute moment. Never.

[noctylisse]

Back To You, I Will

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ A promise he whispers to his lady, the night before he departs.

Clive Rosfield x Fem Reader [Set before the Night of Flames. Takes place the night before Clive sets off to Stillwind.]

You feel the cold rush of the wind on your skin as you lay in bed. Moonlight shines across the room, tiny specks of dust floating in its wake like little fairies.

Rosalith is silent now, save for the occasional gentle sound of wagon wheels moving across the pavements.

The curtains of your bedroom window dance softly with the wind’s command. It is peaceful. And slowly, your eyes close as sleep washes over you.

Not long after you drift asleep, a loud crash sounds from outside and jolts you awake.

“Fucking bearer! Quiet down!” a slavemaster’s gravelly voice could be heard from outside, followed by the immediate defense of his slave in a trembly voice. “I-it wasn’t me! I w-was just..!” 

“I don’t give a shit! Just be fucking quiet you damned thing! And clean up your mess!” The slavemaster shuts his doors, leaving the slave to clean up whatever mess was there.

You sigh. It’s unfortunate how these bearers are branded and treated as such. A recent memory sparks in your mind. One of Clive Rosfield, the Archduke’s son, helping and smiling at a bearer who had dropped fruit from a carton. He treated the man with respect as he should be, despite the beliefs of the non-branded common folk. 

“Ever so kind, he is.” You whisper, smiling at the memory and facing the wall. “How lucky I must be to have his eyes on me…”

Quite forbidden, your love is. The difference in status would ruin Clive's reputation all the way through. But it didn’t matter to him, it never did. He has never failed to reassure you no matter what doubt you had. 

Consumed by the thoughts you had of your lover, you fail to hear the creak of your windows as they begin to be pried open fully. The curtains begin to speed up their dance as the wind gets stronger.

A leg wearing a fine leather boot swings down, finding its footing on the window stool. Its pair does the same, and the very one who occupies your mind swoops down in his entirety. He’s crouching now, both arms keeping him steady. 

“I should’ve been more careful..” He sighs as he looks downwards, to his left. The poor bearer was forced to clean the mess he had made, accidentally tripping on and breaking off a huge tile of the slavemaster’s roof as he was quickly trying to get to you.

He silently promises to give the man a gift of apologies (disguised as a spontaneous gift) before he departs in the morrow.

Your eyes narrow. That smooth voice. So familiar, so gentle. You turn around to face him. 

“Clive!” You smile. It always felt nice to say his name. All the more to have him right there in front of you. He smiles back, and you sit up, swinging your legs off the bed and opening your arms to him. He rushes into your embrace and presses a kiss on your head. 

“I wanted to see you before I depart to Stillwind tomorrow.” He says softly, letting go of you before kneeling down on the floor to embrace you again, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder. He presses a kiss on your shoulder while you play with his hair. 

“But you’ll be seeing me tomorrow before you go.” You start. “I’ll be there to see you off.”

“But that’s different.” He lifts his head up to look at you. “Everybody would be seeing me off. I won’t be able to embrace you like this. To be with you like this.”

He looks away to press the back of your hand to his lips, before looking back at you again.  “I only ever wish to be with you freely, my love.” 

You smile sadly. “I do as well and you know that.” You caress his cheek. “But given your position..” 

You sigh, placing a hand on his left cheek. He is a bearer, unbranded. You wish he would stay that way.

He frowns. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t.” He stands, gently pulling you up with him. “I promise you, my love. I will find a way.”

He begins to smile softly, deep ocean blue eyes twinkling as the both of you are bathed in moonlight. Ever so hopeful he is, you can’t help but share the same hope. For the future, for both of you. You smile.

He leans down, his forehead against yours, his smile and yours never wavering. “It is my duty to be the Shield of Rosaria…” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Just as much as it is my duty to be yours. To  love you, come what may, my love.” He presses his lips against yours. Soft and gentle, the way he kisses you. So full of love. 

You pull away from one another briefly before you cup his face in your hands and give him a short but sweet kiss in return.

Your eyes look away from him for a moment, focusing on the moon. A silent agreement is made between you and the heavenly body. To keep him safe, for his safe return.

Looking back at him, you smile softly, arms around his neck. “I trust your mission to be successful, my love. I just know the soldiers will sing your praises. As they should be.” He kisses your cheek as a silent ‘thank you’.  

“Be safe, Clive.” You whisper as he leads you both toward the window. 

“I promise I will.”

"Come back in one piece, you must."

He lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the back of it. “Back to you, I will, my lady.” 

And with that, he kisses your lips once more before he leaves. 

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 103 }

find you.

...... x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; SPOILERS FOR FFXVI; if you do not wish to be spoiled, then i suggest you readers skip this story and DO NOT read the tags.

{ i'll run away with your footsteps, i'll build a city that dreams for two. and if you lose yourself, i will find you. }

the rain was heavy, making her cloak stick to her like an uncomfortable second skin as she followed the boy she adored with her entire heart and soul.

throughout the downpour, she follows her beloved, struggling to seek shelter as they remained on the run.

joshua rosfield was the youngest son of the archduke that ruled over rosaria, yet his world had been torn apart the moment his mother had betrayed his kingdom. he suffered a tragic fate, nearly dying by the hands of his brother when ifrit had attacked him.

his life was hanging by the thread when she had come across his form, laid alone bleeding in the midst of the forest, leaving behind a trail of blood in his wake.

she was but a mere child back then when she came across joshua for the first time, seeing him clinging on to the last bit of his life as she helped carry him back to her cottage to the best of her abilities.

when she arrives back home with a gravely injured boy, her parents acted immediately, taking the boy out of her hands. as her mother washed away the blood that stains her tattered dress, her father was the one who helped with nursing joshua back to health.

even without his dire injuries, it was clear that joshua was a sickly boy. but due to his determination and inner strength, he was able to heal, gaining a bit of his strength with each day that passes by. she was utterly intrigued and drawn to joshua even then, seeing him as a prince with his golden curls and light blue eyes that reminded her of a pretty gemstone-

it was strange, but she knew that she would follow him to the ends of the world with no questions asked.

and perhaps this strange stirring and desire kept in her heart was but an omen for what was to come.

it was in the middle of the night, and she was sleeping peacefully in her room with joshua settled beside her. she was aware of how the young boy had not fallen asleep yet, but thought nothing of it. she was caught in her own land of dreams when a sudden movement startles her awake. her eyes were blurry from sleep, making her rub at her eyes as she looks around her room, only to see joshua donning his clothes once more. she gasps at the sight, becoming fully awake as her bare feet pads at the wooden floors of her room. "joshua, where are you going?" her voice was a mere whisper, tears filling at her eyes at the thought of joshua leaving. he does not face her, chewing at his bottom lip as his blue eyes shone with a determination that seemed out of place for a boy his age. "i need to find my brother and protect him. he needs me, just as i need him."

he faces her, and calls out her name while taking a hold of her hand. "i will forever be indebted to you for saving my life. if you promise to wait for me, i will return to you with my brother beside me." joshua appears conflicted then, his hand reaching out to her, looking like he wished to brush back her strands of hair before deciding against it. hiding his tears, he turns away from her and murmurs a tiny "goodbye." but she refused to allow him to leave-

at least, not without her. "joshua, wait." she clings to him, taking a hold of his tiny wrist, feeling saddened at how much he was trembling. he was trying so hard to be brave, but she knew deep down that he was scared.

and she couldn't leave him.

"take me with you. i...i don't wish for you to go on this journey alone, joshua."

he faces her, true blue eyes meeting with her unwavering gaze. his lips tremble as he whispers once more. "but what of your parents? will you really leave behind the people who love you so much?"

she shakes her head while giving him a smile. "it's because i know that they love me that i am willing to help you. they will wait for me, i am sure of it."

so with their satchels packed and a final note written for her parents to find, she goes with joshua on his journey.

for eighteen years, she has remained by his side, helping him protect his brother from the shadows as he traveled throughout all of valisthea to find out the mysteries pertaining to the blight and the mothercrystals.

their travels have taken them down a dirt path, now turned muddy from the storm as she found herself struggling to keep up with joshua. her head was pounding, and there was an odd sense of nausea that was felt blooming from within her abdomen.

her skin felt hot, and the downpour that felt like a needle-like rain was making her feel worse than usual. her eyes were blinded from the rain, and somewhere along the way, she had lost sight of joshua.

"joshua?! where are you?" a cough escapes from her chapped lips, wracking through her body as she stops walking. her tattered boots sink into the dirt, making her lose her balance as she fell down to her knees.

her skin felt hot, and she was feeling weaker than usual. her coughs refused to cease, feeling the bile crawling up her throat as she clamps her hand over her mouth in response. her mind was in a haze, and she struggled to keep herself from throwing up whatever contents were left in her stomach.

succumbing to her exhaustion, she softly cries out to joshua before slumping forwards, her body landing against the mud as she failed to hear the voice calling out her name.

---

the young woman awakens with a start, her eyes becoming aware of the flames that burned so bright from the midst of the room. with a moan, she slowly sits up, only to be stopped by a gentle hand that was placed on her chest.

"don't get up, or else you'll make yourself even sicker." she recognizes joshua's voice and quietly lays back down. he looks at her with adoration while reassuring her, "while you slept, i helped you take some medicine so that should help you feel better soon."

"t-thank you, joshua."

looking at her surroundings, she realizes that she was in an abandoned, wooden hut. the sound of rain was still audible, and had it not been for joshua's flames, then she was certain she would not be able to see a damn thing due to the darkness caused by the storm.

from her periphery, she sees that her clothes were hanging from the hut's banisters, making her gasp as she faces joshua. she could feel her face heating up and her heart pounding when she realizes that she is completely bare, donning what appears to be joshua's brown cloak. he meets her gaze and remains settled next to her, tending to the fire while dressed in his red tunic and leather pants.

with a sigh, she slowly picks herself up all while running a hand through her damp locks of hair. "i...i am sorry for falling behind, joshua. i lost sight of you and felt so sick-"

"sssh, my dear, there is no need to apologize." now completely focused on her, joshua leans forward, his voice oozing with gentleness while his gaze held the same fondness she had been familiar with for all these years.

she closes her eyes and leans into his touch, sighing as she allowed her lips the pleasure of kissing the palm of his hand. "how were you able to find me, especially out in this pouring rain? i could barely see you..."

joshua's eyes become kinder when he leans even closer to her, shutting his eyes as he allows his lips to press against her forehead. "i will never forsake you or leave you behind. you mean...everything to me, and i will always find you."

she was overcome with emotions, feeling the love she held for joshua brimming. acting on pure instincts and her heart's desires alone, she crawls towards joshua and settles herself on his lap. she allows her nose to brush against the soft skin of his collarbones, with joshua holding her even closer to his form as he wraps his arms around her.

they look into each other's eyes, their respective gazes filled with adoration and a promise of unspoken devotion when they come closer. their lips meld perfectly together, becoming slotted against each other in a searing kiss that conveys the love they held for one another.

she wished for nothing more than to bask in her beloved joshua's love, but a sudden need to sneeze was what ultimately forces her to reluctantly pull away from his loving lips.

"achoo-!"

she looks away from joshua, embarrassed as she wipes away at her nose, feeling her skin heat up once more when joshua lets out a rich laugh in response.

"my love, you are utterly adorable!"

joshua continues to chuckle deeply, holding her even closer to him as he ran the tip of his nose against her hair. he sighs, pressing a kiss against her temple.

they were silent for a few more beats, with joshua brushing his lips against her skin every so often. she remains quiet, and it was joshua who breaks the silence when he tells her,

"clive would love you; he would say that you were the perfect woman for me."

she could feel her heart soaring at the mention of his brother, her own eyes filling with tears when she meets his forlorn gaze. "you will reunite with clive once more, i'll make sure of it, my love."

joshua flashes her a kind smile, thanking her for her kind words before placing a hand behind her head. he allows her to bury her face within his chest as he lay back against the ground.

"rest well, my love, and get better soon. when you are well once more shall we continue our journey."

feeling safe while in his embrace, she allows her eyelids to grow heavier, her lips pressed against his chest as she basks in the warmth of his arms.

she was utterly devoted to him, knowing that she will do anything to protect his smile-

but lucky for her, joshua rosfield was just as dedicated to her, already swearing to protect her ever since he was a little boy.

a.n. - best boy best boy best boy best boy 🥀

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[strawberrisncreme]

A Good Day

(Read on Ao3 HERE)

Pairing: Young!Clive x Reader (iirc I made it p much gender neutral save for one tiny part)

Summary: As Rosalith's (admittedly young) chocobo caretaker, it is your duty to ensure the well-being of the birds. What starts as another average day ends up being more eventful as you bump into the young lord Clive Rosfield.

AN: I really tried writing fics again just for this game, emphasis on the word TRIED. I haven't written shit in 10 years

Year of the Realm 860 Rosalith - The Grand Duchy of Rosaria

The streets of Rosalith slowly come alive as the first hints of sunrise casts a warm glow across the cobblestone paths. The insistent “kweh’s” of hungry chocobos fill the air as you make your way towards the wooden stables, grimacing as you feel your boots sink into the muddy ground. Your sleep-addled brain can barely keep up as you carry out your duties of replenishing each chocobo’s greens and setting out fresh straw. While it’s admittedly not the most engaging task, you find comfort in the routine and can think of far worse company than the gentle birds that you care for. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you can’t keep the smile of excitement off your face as you walk up to the next bird, her sharp blue eyes snapping to you as you carefully extend your arm to her, waiting to see if she’d accept your offer of pats.

“Hello Ambrosia, I apologize for being a bit behind schedule…some of the others were being difficult today, but I trust you won’t hold it against me?”

You beam as she nudges her head into your outstretched hand, permitting you to give her snowy white feathers a quick ruffle before you turn, tending to her empty food trough. 

“You know girl, I have a feeling that today will be a good day.” You mumble as you fish out her quality greens, “I heard that Clive was planning on going for a ride today, wouldn’t that be nice? Take you out for some fresh air, maybe even get in a few kills…mind you, that would mean more work for me. It’s a right pain in the arse trying to get blood out of your feathers.”

So caught up in your tasks, you were painfully unaware of the new presence of a certain young lord Rosfield who was casually leaning against the wooden post at the entrance of Ambrosia’s stable, quietly listening to your musings. 

“But you ought to be careful out there, I know you wouldn’t let it happen but with the Blight and all who knows what you and Clive see out there mm? Can’t let the young lord get hurt… or you for that matter.” You laugh, standing up, “Well, not like he’d listen to me- OH!” You jump as you finally take notice of your silent companion. Well, aside from Ambrosia of course. “Lord Rosfield!” You exclaim, hastily bending at the waist into a rather ungraceful bow. “Forgive me, I was not aware that you would be at the stables this early in the morning!” 

You can hear him stifle a laugh as he walks closer, his boots coming into your field of vision from where you remain bowed over.  “Please, rise. And you need not show such stiff formalities, after all, did I not just hear you refer to me by name instead of title?”  You quickly snap out of your bow, inwardly cringing at your appearance (a messy and sweaty mess) an embarrassingly stark contrast to his well put-together attire, the morning sun glinting off the sword he keeps hung on his back. Silently, you pray furiously for him to mistake the flush on your cheeks as a result of your physical labor, and not as an effect of you being in his presence alone.

So what if you held a tiny flame for the young lord? It’s not your fault he was blessed with a pretty face...and a likable personality… and- Great Greagor. What wasn’t there to like about him??

“-ou feeling well? Shall I call for a healer?” You quickly shook away your thoughts as you refocused your eyes (and thoughts) on Clive, resisting the urge to physically slap some sense into yourself.

“Apologies, my lord, how may I serve you?” You hurriedly lowered yourself into another bow, nervously fiddling with the front of your skirt. 

“Please, Clive is perfectly suitable. He stepped closer, arms outstretched as he motioned for you to stand. “There is no one here save for the chocobos, and I doubt they have much regard for titles.” 

You straighten out once more, awkwardly nodding in agreement. “Well, right then…how can I be of service to you…Clive?” The name felt wrong coming out of your mouth now, while it wasn’t the first time you used it, you could never get used to referring to any of the Rosfield’s as anything less than their rank…to their faces at least. Clive on the other hand grinned at your compliance, turning to smooth out some of Ambrosia’s feathers.

“It seems I rose earlier than usual today, it’s a while yet before my presence is needed elsewhere so I thought to pay a visit to the stables.” 

Ambrosia happily soaked up the attention from her favorite human, letting out a soft kweh as he rhythmically stroked along her beak. Anyone would agree that it was a damned adorable sight.

“She is a fine bird” you say, affection evident in your voice, “it would be rude of me to have a favorite out of all the steeds, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” You grinned at him, carefully grabbing your broom to sweep away bits of dust and straw that littered the floor. 

You failed to notice the light flush that colored his face as he cleared his throat, “That she is, you have my gratitude for taking such good care of her. It’s clear that she’s taken a liking to you.” 

You shook your head, “She’s just a naturally sweet girl, I’m sure she’d behave the same with any other chocobo handler.” 

He scoffs, running his hand through her plumage “You’d be surprised, consider it a compliment… by the Mother, ” He sighed, his face twitched slightly in embarrassment, “how embarrassing…I never asked for your name.” You stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. “Please, my lord-” “Clive.” “... Clive . That really won't be necessary-”

“Nonsense, I would like to know the name of the individual who takes such good care of our birds.” His smile was almost blinding as you floundered inside your head. Embarrassingly, your name seemed to slip from your mind for a moment. “It’s ___!  But please my lord, you need not feel pressured to use it-” “ ___? ___… ” He tested, unaware of your rapidly increasing heartbeat. This is it. You were going to die in a chocobo stable. “I like it.” He says, the smile evident in his voice, “It suits you.” “You have my thanks my lor- I mean, thank you, Clive.” You stuttered out, gripping the handle of your broom tightly.  He smiled brightly at you, seemingly wanting to say more but was quickly interrupted at the sudden sharp shout of “LORD ROSFIELD!” that pierced the calm morning air. “It seems that I let time slip away from me,” he said sheepishly, “my apologies, but I should make haste before Commander Murdoch wakes the entirety of Rosaria…thank you for taking the time to speak with me ___ . I shall leave Ambrosia in your more than capable hands.” You quickly bow your head to him, still unused to hearing your name coming from his lips. Giving you one last smile of gratitude, he pats Ambrosia on the neck affectionately before slipping out of the stables. Turning to the snowy chocobo, you watch in a daze as she happily wolfs down her breakfast. “A very good day indeed…” 

[dddrunkderella]

kinktober day 12: feral sex (and a bit of groping)

full view on poipiku!

SORRY ABOUT YOUR BUTTHOLE CID

[luneariaa]

☀︎ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

❥︎ - ; ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❥︎ - 𝐭𝐰 : ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ! ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ; ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ꜱᴏʀᴛᴀ ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ʀᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ.

❥︎ - 𝐚/𝐧 : ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀᴇ qᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ꜱᴏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴏᴜᴛ! ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴏᴏᴄ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ,, („• ᴗ •„) 🧡🧡

☾︎ - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

-✰-

The past few days have been filled with countless raindrops from above, making the sensation a lot colder-- several people even wishing for it to stop at some points. The rather thick blanket is being clutched tightly by her as she tries her best to keep herself warm within the confines of the current hideout she was in.

It was so cold that she couldn't bring herself to sleep just yet. Instead, her eyes stared out at the slightly open window and onto the view of the rain; her expression is one filled with serenity and wonder at the very moment.

The sound of the door being opened can be heard just from a distance, though she remained preoccupied with her own thoughts and the rain itself.

With several quiet yet careful footsteps, the charming blonde-haired male approaches the young lady; kneeling beside her after.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Joshua begins to ask upon noticing her focus is solely towards the rain outside, which resulted in her being startled slightly once she heard someone speak to her.

"You scared me!" She places her hand over her heart as she instantly shifts her gaze from the rain and towards him. "-- and I didn't notice you entering, sorry!" The lady begins to slowly regain her composure as Joshua merely chuckles at her reaction.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you." He apologizes, wrapping his arms around her form tenderly-- pulling her into an embrace. "The rain has been going on all day today."

She nods in agreement, leaning onto his touch and to feel the natural warmth radiating from his form alone. "Truly, it's been quite cold. I suppose the weather has been gloomy these past few days." She jokes lightly, which earned a soft amused grin from Joshua; his hand found its way to caress her soft hair.

"Is there anything you need, perhaps?" He questions while placing a small kiss upon her forehead, which caused her to giggle happily and shook her head.

"Mm no, really!" She answered simply, resting her face on the crook of his neck comfortably as he started the fire nearby; but not too near, using his magic. Their surroundings feel a bit less cold by now.

"You're so warm.. I could stay like this forever."

The blonde-haired male simply smiled sweetly at her words, placing his hand tenderly onto her cheek, wiping a bit of visible dirt off. The young lady's face reddened a little upon his actions, feeling affection and warmth radiating off from him.

"You deserve a better life than this." Joshua begins to say, gazing into her eyes with a warm expression-- beautiful blue eyes consist of a lot of untold emotions. "You deserve to sleep on a more comfortable bed, and even have the finest foods for your daily fill." 

She received another kiss atop of her head; snuggling against him even more.

"But I don't wish to experience it alone myself, Joshua.." The lady spoke in an almost quiet manner, soft even, as if she's taking care and cautious with her own words. "I wanted to experience it with you. Someday, we will get what we've wished for; I'm sure of it."

Joshua feels so happy upon hearing the words escaping from her lips at this moment between them. His heart feels light, as if all of his burdened thoughts have washed away almost instantly.

"Of course, I wished for the same thing as well, actually." He touches her face gently, affectionately. "I will fight for you, until I feel as if the sun has shine down upon us again."

"Until there's no more reason to hide; no need to endure long cold nights, and even pain. You deserve none of those, truly."

Perhaps his words have hit a little too hard upon her heart, because she could feel her own eyes getting teary from his statement. It didn't go unnoticed, of course, as he tried to brush away the tears that managed to escape her eyes with such tenderness.

"You're too sweet for me, Joshua.. But in truth, I was quite scared of our unforeseeable future." Her admission made him fall into realization upon her true emotions right at this moment. But nonetheless, he tries his best to appear calm and composed; trying to reassure her without any hint of hesitation.

"And it's completely alright if you feel scared. We've been through a lot lately, but I'll be right here. I'm never going to leave you."

His words are sincere and truthful. "I believe in you-- we will make it through this."

Joshua's expression changes yet again into one of pure concern as she stayed silent after he spoke. But his emotions just escalate further once he notices how her eyes are glistening with some hint of tears present within them even more; thus pulling her closer, pressing his lips against her forehead.

"Oh, my dear (Y/N).. Don't you worry." He exhales out his breath almost quietly. "Everything's going to be alright." 

Though not giving any sort of response still, the lady nodded in understanding while sniffling slightly-- leaning onto him for more needed comfort. He held onto her hands, warming them up with his own.

"Do me a favor, please-- can you look at me?"

Not once he was angered by her actions, but rather filled with genuine concern and complete devotion that he held towards her alone.

So she obeyed his gentle commands, lifting her head and gaze into his deep blue eyes. He begins to take this opportunity to put the gorgeously designed flower crown atop of her head gently-- one that he has created using his magic before then. 

Perhaps, it is to show as a small gesture of reassurance and gratitude towards her; that he truly cared for her wellbeing, or just wanted to give her some sort of gift for now.

Joshua truly looked so proud and satisfied with his little gift, looking down and into her eyes with a delightful grin. "Now, look at you! You look so adorable like this."

All the while, her eyes aren't leaving his own even for a second, as if she's merely admiring with whatever he's been doing.

His grin truly looks all too adorable to her; even more so, pleased with his own creation. The lady then grabs ahold of the flower crown from her head, releasing a giggle upon his sweet actions.

"This is very beautiful, indeed!" She exclaims joyfully, her smile mirroring his own. "But-" She then places the flower crown on top of his head instead.

"-- look at you, gosh! The flower crown suits you more!" She teases while laughing, but Joshua pays no mind as much to her own actions; simply finding her even more endearing and feeling as though nothing else matters at this moment.

Just the two of them alone.

A thought even crosses his mind-- perhaps, she could be a fallen angel being sent down to him from the heavens above? By the stars, Joshua finds himself hardly able to avert his gaze away from the mere sight of her.

And so, without thinking, he pulls her closer once more, causing a surprised gasp to escape from her lips as he puts the flower crown back atop of her head gently with a soft look. The lady could sense the heat beginning to rise upon her face when she felt his arm around her waist-- the other hand made its way to cup her cheek. 

The rain outside begins to show signs of stopping, but neither of them paid much attention to it.

"May I kiss you?" The sudden request caught her off guard, stumbling upon her own words as she became very flustered.

"Y-You may.."

Once he receives the answer that he had been secretly seeking for, Joshua tenderly captures her lips with his own. Their lips molded against each other so perfectly; so fitting. She moves her arms around his neck as she finds herself losing into the kiss, while his arms are encircled around her waist at this moment.

The kiss overall feels quite chaste; no other unwanted desire can be felt within it. It's simply a pure, affectionate reminder that the two love each other very, very much so. And he had to start it first.

They slowly parted from each other a few seconds later; their expressions appeared to be bashful, eyes not leaving one another. The two took their precious time to admire every single detail off from each other's face up that close.

"I love you, (Y/N). After all of this is over..." Joshua begins to say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear gently. 

"Let's build our own life, shall we? A safe, comforting place just for the two of us. I'll keep you safe no matter what, always remember that." He vows, before resting his forehead against hers. 

"But of course; we need to find my brother first. I'm sure you're aware that you'll be accompanying me in doing so."

"For sure."

His darling merely nods, clearly agreeing as the two shared a laugh towards each other, trying to lighten up the mood even further.

"Thank you, Joshua, for everything.." She couldn't contain herself from smiling contentedly at his promise, closing her eyes momentarily, as if wanting to relish within the moment as she speaks.

"I shall never leave your side as well. I'd be very glad and love to build a life together with you.. Honestly, it's a dream of mine, so I'm glad that it was with you."

She holds onto him as close as she could, to which he returns her tender actions with a relaxed smile plastered on his face.

"And I love you too, Joshua. Always."

𝐞𝐧𝐝.

-✰-

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[incorrectndyingflamequotes]

Jill: Why are your tongues purple? Jote: We had slushies. I had a blue one. Joshua: I had a red one. Jill: oh Jill: Jill: OH Clive: Clive: You drank each other's slushies?

[robo-writing]

Sweet Knowing

Summary: Cid becomes aware of the attention you seem to draw from a certain Rosfield, and uses it to his advantage.

Warnings: implied voyeurism, p in v actions, 18+ MDNI

This is the second part to this, but can be read on its own.

Cid can be called a slew of things; Lord Commander, Dominant of Ramuh, Outlaw—but one thing he cannot be called, is a fool.

When he found the young Rosfield in the wastelands he felt his heart tug at the display; of a man beaten and broken, only to find that his mission was to kill his childhood friend, one he thought dead long ago. He didn’t think twice about recruiting him to the cause, bringing him to The Hideaway and giving him a rundown of his plans to free bearers from their lot in life. He offered the boy a hot meal and a warm bath, or rather his beloved did.

When word got around that there was a newcomer she was ready to accommodate him. Bright-eyed and friendly, you had offered him whatever was needed to make him feel at home.

“Gods, your clothes are filthy!” You gasped, scanning Clive from head to toe, shaking your head at the muddied state of his armor. “I’ll run to the markets tomorrow and get you some more suitable attire, I can’t let you sleep in armor.”

“Thank you ma’am, but there’s no need—“ he began, only to be stopped by your stern gaze.

“Nonsense. You’re a part of our merry band and I won’t have you sleeping in iron and steel. Now, when’s the last time you had a hot meal?”

Despite his protests you wouldn’t take no for an answer, offering Clive a handkerchief to wipe his face as you ran towards the kitchens to make your own stew for the war-weary traveler.

Cid noticed it when you set the plate full of soup in front of him, how Clive had gotten just the slightest bit nervous around you. He was already the quiet type but this was a different kind of quiet, as if he was afraid of saying something he shouldn’t. Subtle to anyone else, but not to him.

Intrigued, Cid didn’t say a word, only watched in amusement as the former Lord ate by the spoonful, thanking you profusely.

That same night you offered to give him a tour of what would be his new home. Clive had initially declined, afraid of taking advantage of your generosity, and it was only with a firm hand on his shoulder and encouragement from Cid that he accepted.

“Come now, the nice lady’s offered, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would you?” He grins, waving a hand at your expectant form. “Promise she won’t bite.”

He finishes with a wink before pushing Clive a step forward, watching as he follows behind her like a lost puppy.

Let’s see how far this schoolyard crush goes.

The answer, he’d find out, is very far. Weeks have gone by and Clive still looks at you entranced, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend time with you. Just a minute ago you had offered for him to accompany you to gather some flowers, Tarja needing them for one reason or another, and Cid had never seen the man so eager to leave.

He watches the interaction from a secluded corner, a cigar between his lips, relishing in the view. Your doe-like eyes fluttering, the young Rosarian struggling to keep eye contact—the boy was a fool for you. Not that he could blame him, just looking at you made Cid’s heart jump in his chest, fondly remembering how nervous he was when he asked you to be his.

You were far too pretty, too humble, practically a walking angel and he was…him. He had his faults, but you, you were faultless, despite how many times you tried to convince him you weren’t. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him because as far as Cid was concerned you were perfection personified, and nothing you’d say would change his mind.

His thoughts are broken when you notice his secluded form, the smallest wink being sent his way before returning to your conversation with Clive.

Well, you did have one fault; You could be a bit of a tease.

He still remembers what you told him days ago before he had to leave for an excursion. You kissed him goodbye before his mission, words as sweet as honey, only to whisper pure filth in his ears when no one was watching.

“Come back safe and I might give you a reward.”

He did not miss how your fingers wandered down his shirt for the briefest of moments, before pulling away enticingly.

He doesn’t think he’s ever completed a mission that fast before, or so effectively. Tarja was stunned to find not so much as a hair out of place considering his reputation for getting hurt, but Cid was too busy thinking about just how you would reward him for his efforts. The thought of it made him impatient, made him want to drag you away and keep you all to himself, but he could wait a while longer. You’d be back by tonight, and then he’d have you all to himself.

“Always so eager…” He murmurs against your lips, keeping you pressed into the sheets. Slow, sensual, he holds you close as he fucks you, taking his time to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw go slack.

Your legs close around his waist, pulling him ever further into your wet heat—he could never get used to how good you feel, how quickly you surrender yourself to him. He grinds himself harder against you, listening with pride when you whine his name.

“I missed you so much,” he sighs. “Missed me too, didn’t you?”

You nod shakily, unable to speak. He breathes you in, his hands touching every expanse of your skin from your hips to your breasts, unable to stop himself. His fingers hold firm against your pliant body, the smallest tremble moving through you when he presses himself deeper into your heat.

You cast a spell on him, a lust that borders on insanity. You clench against him so tightly like you never want him to leave, nails leaving angry lines against his back that he’ll be sure to be proud of in the morning. The slight sting only motivates him further, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That’s it,” he groans into your ear. “Don’t think, just feel, feel what you do to me.”

It’s in that moment that he hears the soft tapping of someone outside his door. Footsteps? This late into the night?

Stopping doesn’t so much as cross his mind—whatever it is cannot be more important than you.

His assault against your senses continues, hitting that soft spot that has you arch your back and moan his name like a whore.

“Gods, Cid…”

He unravels you, he keeps you whole, he takes your sanity and brings you to new heights all at the same time. The whiplash is dizzying, not sure if you should cry or beg for more.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasps, pride in his voice. “Lay back and take it, just like that—“

His heart beats faster when you let out an even louder noise, squirming against his length. So good, so fucking perfect, you’re a dream, one he never wishes to wake from.

He moves with a practiced ease, focused on your pleasure, but also towards the door, distinctly aware of his midnight visitor. There were footsteps coming towards the door but none leaving it—whoever’s there is still listening.

An idea springs forth, feeling just the slightest bit mischievous.

Might as well give them a show.

His brings his thumb to your clit, circling it ever so slightly, teasing the hard nub and watching as you’re reduced to a mess before his very eyes. Mouth open and eyes lidded, you whimper under his commanding touch, begging for more.

“So good, so good, oh gods—please don’t stop—“ You cry, shaking against him. Your legs are barely able to hold onto him, a brutal pace being set and yet you beg him for more.

How could he resist when you ask him so nicely?

So he indulges you, and this time you really can’t keep up, trying and failing to match his rhythm but your poor abused body just can’t, no matter how badly you want to. Cid grabs you by the hips with both hands and presses you flush to him, practically breathing each other’s air. Between the scrape of the bed and the slap of skin against skin, Cid can faintly make out a muffled groan.

The tone is strikingly familiar.

He can’t help the wicked grin painted on his face.

He slows down, just enough to bring your attention back to him as he whispers against your neck.

“Do you hear that? We have an audience.”

Eyes glazed, you slowly gather your bearings before looking at him in confusion. “What are you—“

“Shhh,” he silences you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “It seems like a certain Rosarian has come to visit us.”

He grinds himself against you, your own sound of pleasure being followed by the softest grunt from outside the door. Your head turns, finally realizing with wide eyes.

“Is that—“

“It is,” he moves slowly against you, making sure to keep you pleasured but coherent. “I could tell him to leave, if that’s what you wish.”

He knows you better than you know yourself, so it’s no surprise to him when you shake your head.

“Keep going, please.”

The moment you give him permission he’s back to fucking you, thumb moving against your sensitive nub once more. You keen for him, louder and louder as he chases your lips impatiently, swallowing your moans with his tongue. When he pulls away he growls against your lips, eyes pinning you on the spot.

“Like being listened to? Like the idea of him knowing how desperate you are?”

You shake your head, but the way you tighten up tells another tale.

“Don’t lie to me, I know you do, it’s okay,” He coos, his own high slowly approaching. “You don’t think I see how he looks at you? How you’re so eager to let him follow you around?”

You shake your head ready to deny the accusation. The moment you do Cid’s movements slow to a crawl, holding you right on the edge, tantalizingly close to falling apart.

“Don’t, please move—“ He refuses when you beg, tears welling in your eyes as your pussy throbs for release, a release Cid holds you back from.

“What did I say my dear?” He breathes. “Don’t lie to me.”

You whimper, begging for mercy once again. “I promise, just, please don’t stop, need you to fuck me—”

Cid’s grin is nothing short of sinful. “Need me, or need us?”

The notion makes your heart stop, a shocked expression painting your face. And yet he can feel your velvety walls spasm around him, answer clear as day.

He laughs, breath heaving. “You do, don’t you? Want us to fuck you, treat you like the needy little whore you are—“

He’s moving again, even faster now. This time you can’t even bring yourself to lie, a broken mess below him. Half-uttered sentences and broken moans, too far gone to care about anything except how fucking good you feel.

You scream, and Cid hears a thump outside the door.

Hope he’s enjoying himself.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you go for even a second. “Fuck—say it, say you want us, fucking say it—“

“Yes—I want it, please—!”

Your cunt is so welcoming, he feels like he’s going to go mad. He gives his all and then some, relishes in how fucking tight you hold onto him, gushing around him.

“There’s my girl, come on, let go for me—“ He grunts into your skin, shuddering as his own release takes hold of him.

You look glorious, spread out before him. Even when you look fucked within an inch of your life he can’t help but admire what a fucking sight you are. He doesn’t stop, keeps going even though he’s so sensitive it’s downright painful, if only to squeeze out a few more seconds of your orgasm. Your sobs threaten to wake the entire Hideaway but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

“Yesyesyes, so good, I can’t—fuck—I can’t—“

“Yes you fucking can,” Cid interrupts in awe. “Be good and let me see you stain the sheets love.”