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hellshire-harlot · 10 days ago

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Father of Serpents | Albert Wesker x Reader Halloween Special

Taglist: @gothghostiie @weskie @destinationtrekk @nomansgunssmoke

The stone altar beneath you is cold, bitterly so, sapping the warmth from your bare skin.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t escape the cruel fetters keeping you bound. Spread-eagle, chained to the slab of granite, you can’t help but writhe, desperate to evade your inevitable fate. It seems like so long ago that you were snatched from the dim street, dragged to this unknown place of shadows and ominous reliefs carved into the stone walls, thrown in a cell to wait. But it hasn’t even been a day; you’d wager the sun hasn’t even risen yet. After all, what better time to perform a ritual sacrifice than on All Hallow’s Eve?

You know you’re being sacrificed, of course. For what other reason would a cabal of silent, hooded men abduct you, strip you naked, and bathe you in rose-water & honey milk? For what other reason would they drag you sobbing and pleading to a stone altar in the center of a spacious sanctum and tie you to it?

Your chest heaves, your lungs unable to get a full breath between your terrified sobbing. You’ve long since given up pleading for your life. You’d done all you could think of- promised not to tell, offered them your money, and when they ripped off your clothes you did your best to play along, thinking your kidnappers were going to simply fuck you and move on. Nothing so far has worked. None of them has even whispered a word. As they washed you in their ceremonial bath, their hands pouring the water all over you and carding through your hair, they never pulled or groped, only touched to clean you. In the beginning, when you had more energy, you struggled and kicked and hit all you could, and one of them evidently had had enough. He’d struck you, a vicious backhand that left your ears ringing and a cruel mark on your cheek.

For whatever reason, the others seemed angry that he had hit you. They led him away, and one turned your face side to side as if to check the damage. Now that you lay on the frigid stone that grows warmer only because your flesh is bound to it, you understand why they cared at all, and it only makes you weep harder.

They didn’t want their lamb to be bruised before the slaughter. It would ruin the meat, wouldn’t it?

Tears stream down your temples as a handful of the cultists circle you. You rest your head against the small cushion beneath it and bite your lip. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of your terror, but you can only do so much. Your heart pounds as you scan them for weapons. You expected a sacrificial dagger or ceremonial blade, one designed to rip your heart from your chest or cleave your head from your shoulders. But none of them carry any weapons that you can see. Poison, then? Drowning? Smothering? There are many ways they could kill you that don’t involve marring your skin. Your stomach fills with dread as the visions of yourself vomiting blood, writhing beneath a pillow over your face, thrashing against arms that hold your head underwater, parade before your mind. You can only desperately pray for your death to be swift and painless.

As the cultists form a ring around your prone form, you ball your hands into fists and brace yourself. Throat hoarse from screaming and crying, you nonetheless summon your voice once more, a last, desperate plea for salvation. “Please, don’t hurt me,” you beseech, “I- I don’t want to die. Please.”

None of them respond, or even indicate that they’ve heard you. You close your eyes tight, another despairing sob tearing from your chest. I’m going to die here.

You only open your teary eyes when a voice that is not your own echoes throughout the sanctum. “Hac nocte noctes,” a deep-voiced man intones, the words unknown to you but their meaning ominous all the same. You haven’t heard someone speak other than yourself since this ordeal began, and it startles you. Your eyes snap open and you watch as the cultist who spoke raises his arms in prayer, and you glance to the side, heart stopping as you look upon the tens of cultists who now fill the chamber. All of them bow before the altar, heads lowered in prayer, and echo the mantra started by the man near you. Hac nocte noctes.

Another continues, and you can’t differentiate the voices in your terrified state. “Ad te vocamus” and the acolytes follow as your eyes dart around frightfully. You can’t stifle a nervous whimper. You wish you understood what they’re saying.

Vocate nos Patrem Serpentium

Something about snakes, you think? Are they trying to summon some snake-demon out of myth to swallow you whole?

Sicut serpans caudam suam devorat

Bare, spread open like a flower on the altar, you wish you could cover yourself. You try as best you can, grunting as you struggle against the chains around your ankles, but you can’t hide your flushed crotch from view. You hate the way the attention makes you involuntarily heat up.

Tibi hanc oblationem damus

The air around you feels colder than ever. The meager wetness gathering in your core chills, further sapping your body’s warmth. You can feel eyes all over your bare flesh, but with each cultist’s face hidden, you can’t tell if they’re actually looking at you or not. Do they gaze upon your helpless form with unadulterated lust? Do they long to sink their teeth into you and fuck you until you haven’t the strength to say no any longer? Or do they simply size you up like the butcher does his sow? You wish you could say for sure.

In reditu nihil petimus

Half-heartedly, you wonder what god you’re being offered to. Satan? Baphomet? Leviathan? Cthulhu? Kali? Some nameless, formless entity known only to these gathered men? As you were brought here, you took notice of the carved reliefs on the walls. Even now, they surround you, decorating the stone womb you are trapped within. All of them depict snakes, writhing and coiling in on themselves, devouring their own tails and lashing out at unseen enemies. One relief in the far corner depicts a rat in the process of being swallowed whole by a cobra, only for the cobra to be bitten and mauled by a great bear. Another relief, this one continuing the tale, shows the injured serpent biting its own tail and taking new form as a halo behind a humanoid figure, body undefined, unknowable. Then, the halo-snake rides along the arm of the figure, coiling and constricting the throat of a fox. The final relief you can see from your position shows the fox standing at the figure’s side as the same bear from the first relief, accompanied by a jackal, lunges for them. Behind the silhouettes you can make out etchings of roiling flames.

Such evocative, ominous imagery. You can only assume these people mean to sacrifice you to the serpent in their carvings. Do they believe him to be dead, and your blood will revive him? Is he slumbering, and you’re merely bait to awaken him? So many questions, and with not one of the cultists willing to even acknowledge you, each one will die on your leaden tongue and with your terrified heart.

Serva benedictionem intuitus tui

Somehow, you can sense their mantra is nearing its end. Your breathing speeds up. You still can’t see any of them carrying weapons, or anything at all. Each cultist has his hands raised in the air as if offering something to the sky, empty. You pull against your fetters again, to no avail. Do your family and friends even know you’re gone? Are they looking for you? What will they say when you never come home? Your heart aches to think of it. You hope that these cultists at least let your body be found. You don’t want your loved ones to spend the rest of their lives listening for a heartbeat that no longer exists.

You steel yourself. You will face death with gritted teeth, pursed lips, and stony eyes. You will not grant these lunatics the pleasure of turning you into a damsel.

Vivat Uroboros

Now, that phrase you can understand somewhat. Long live Uroboros. Is that the name of their god? Uroboros? Judging by the imagery of snakes all around you, and the mentions of serpents in the chant, you anticipate being swallowed whole by a leviathan summoned from below, or maybe tossed into a pit of vipers.

What you don’t expect is for a suffocating silence to fall over the sanctum.

It feels wholly unnatural, unearthly. Like there’s a bubble that encases you, preventing you from hearing anything save your own frantic heartbeat. None of the cultists are moving. Your breaths become shallow as you try to understand what’s happening, why the shadows in the corners seem to undulate.

And then you look up.

The eyes, unblinking, burn away your bones, leaving only your soul behind. They’re made of hellfire, with only slivers of onyx to act as pupils. They bore right into your own, and you suddenly find yourself even more paralyzed than you already were.

The silence is broken by something new- a low, droning hum, like the gastric functions of some titanic monster. You watch as the void above you shifts, shimmers like oil, distorts into something new. Tendrils- writhing, black, wet, vile, foreboding -emerge from the infinite pitch and encircle you and the altar you lay on, blocking out the rest of the world with moving, living walls. You can barely breathe as those brimstone eyes continue to appraise you, pupils dilating and shrinking as the seconds pass. They come closer, closer, until you can feel them hovering in the air just above your face. You can’t blink. If you do, you’ll die, you’re sure of it.

A nightmare. That’s what this is. All you need to do is wait it out and you’ll wake up at home, hungover from the party, tangled in your sheets and pillows. All you need to do is wake up.

But then, why does everything feel too real? Why does the oily tentacle that prods under your chin, tilting you up to face the unfathomable being it belongs to, feel so utterly visceral?

The appendage retracts, leaving a faint, sticky residue on your skin. Your head falls back against the cushion, your eyes still trained on the nightmare above you. A voice comes to you, a voice that echoes from the depths of your psyche like the death rattle of a vanquished god. It feels invasive, and yet completely native. It feels unearthly, and yet natural.

Hello.

The voice, deep and cold, is overpowering. You finally capitulate, squeezing your eyes shut against the pounding echo of the single word. Bursts of color flash behind your eyelids as the word reverberates, fades in and out, as if your mind is trying to consume it. It’s horrifying, making your skin crawl and your bones itch, but bound as you are, there is nothing you can do. You feel as though you’re being lobotomized from the inside out, the forbidden knowledge somehow contained within those two benign syllables putting a trepanning tool to the inside of your skull and pounding pounding pounding. The pressure builds, your heart running in circles, thrashing against your screaming ribcage, and stars die in your eyes as the pain crescendos and you feel your skull shattering-

And then you open your eyes. Half-blind with tears, you still recognize the form above you, standing astride your hips on the altar.

A man.

The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

The shock blasts away all the agony in your mind like a bomb at ground zero. Suddenly you see with perfect clarity, cold calmness draped over you like a paper-thin blanket of hoarfrost. All that is allowed to exist in your newly-cleared mind is the image of him. Tall, with blonde hair slicked back perfectly, not one strand out of place. Pale skin, like bone china, and thin lips, an angular face that simultaneously warns you away, lest you cut yourself on its edge, and beckons you to throw your body into the blade. His eyes, the color of magma, are the only indication that this is the same being that hovered over you moments ago. The same being, now in a new, impossibly-beautiful form. He looks down upon you, eyes harsh and stern but curious. Interested. The midnight leather that covers his body drapes around you, the ends of his long coat transforming into the same tendrils that encased you before. He tilts his head, appraising your naked form.

The same voice that scorched your sanity returns, though its razor edge is dulled. Be calm. It’s a command, one you physically cannot refuse. At the very least, this time it doesn’t crack open your skull and drain from it the fluid within. Like a computer given an executive command, your body instantly obeys. Your heart rate slows, your breathing evens out. You watch as his gaze leaves you, looking out over the prostrate assemblage before him.

It’s the same voice as in your head, but now audible to everyone else, that shatters the silence. “I have yet to be disappointed with your offerings,” he speaks, and he would sound like any other man if not for the way the bones of the earth tremble at his words, “it would be a shame to jeopardize our… relationship now.

“Which is why I can’t help but ask- who among you thought to touch what is mine?” Suddenly the detached cadence of his voice breaks away, revealing the cold, calculated anger beneath. For some reason, be it your exhausted heart or the command he gave you, you don’t feel uncomfortable the way you usually do when so close to such rage. You know it isn’t directed at you, but that hasn’t stopped your anxiety from rearing its ugly head in the past. Somehow, you are utterly calm in the face of the wrath of a god.

There is a pause, long and heavy, that clamps down on the room. For a painful moment, no one moves. Not him, not you, not the cultists around the altar or the assemblage before you. And then, a single figure rises from kneeling to stand tall and stiff among the crowd. Somehow, you know- this is the man who struck you. The bruise on your cheek stings with the echo of his attack.

The deity above you, nameless, hums in unknowable emotion as the perpetrator reveals himself. Like a bolt of black lightning, he thrusts his arm forward, gloved hand splayed out as if reaching for the man. In response, the man convulses, body twitching, doubling over and clutching at his stomach. He remains silent save for a few faint gurgling sounds, pained and sickening. Slowly, the summoned god draws his fingers into a fist.

“I haven’t felt the need to demonstrate what will happen to anyone who thinks they know better than I,” he says conversationally, as though a man isn’t dying in the middle of the room. Some of the cultists surrounding him turn to watch the spectacle, while others remain kneeling, albeit shaking. “But I suppose now is as good a time as ever, hm?” The tendrils that make up his coattails are writhing, charged with vitriolic power, hovering just over you. The sight of the man being tormented makes you sick, and you close your eyes to bite back the bile in your throat.

The voice returns, still gentle in comparison to his introduction, but stern. No, little one. Watch.

You already know you have no choice. Your eyelids open of their own volition, against the signals your brain sends. Now that you’re looking, you can’t tear your eyes away, like a car accident of eldritch proportions. It is nightmarish, and yet, you stand transfixed.

“Let this serve as a lesson to the rest of you,” the unholy being continues, watching with bored eyes as his victim falls to his knees, “this isn’t the most painful way I can kill. Lay hands on what belongs to me, and you will suffer. Am I understood?” In response, the cultists assembled nod their heads vigorously, or else give a terse cry of yes, Serpent-Father. Both reactions serve the same end, and their recipient seems satisfied. “Good,” he concludes with a pleasant tone.

His hand clenches into a fist, and the man’s head explodes into a mass of ravenous black tendrils.

Some of the devotees gasp, others flinch, and some remain still, though clearly at great personal cost. You can’t stop the horrified cry that escapes you, but the command of the voice evidently can. Hush. And your mouth closes.

As the body falls, twitching, to the stone floor, you watch the grotesque spectacle continue, more ebon tendrils eating their way out of the torso and abdomen. They detach from the body, slithering across the floor in unison towards the altar, and you realize they’re not tendrils at all, but snakes. They slide up the altar, over your trembling flesh, and up the legs of the man above you, who welcomes his servants with no issue. They obey their master unerringly, coiling in a braid around his outstretched arm, before becoming one with the shimmering leather itself. They are an extension of him, and so they merge seamlessly. One blink, and they’re gone, leaving behind only their master.

To their credit, the cultists surrounding the altar haven’t strayed from their positions, as much as you imagine they wish to. You look up at him, their patron, this Serpent-Father they’ve served you up to. You wonder if that is his name, or merely a moniker. He glances about the room, surveying the mass of devotees in attendance, and nods.

In response, one of the cultists at the altar begins another chant. The words remain unknown to you, but they set a strange rhythm, one that seems to put your soul into motion. Elsewhere, someone rings out a ceremonial bell, a sepulchral beat to accompany the tuneless song. You can’t help but wonder if this is where you die. If the beautiful, terrifying man above you will be the one to spill your blood, in his own name, and devour your beating heart.

But then, he isn’t above you anymore. He stands at the side of the altar you’re bound to, the other cultists having backed up against the wall with heads lowered in respect. He has free reign to run his gloved fingertips across the stone surface, and across your vulnerable skin. The slow, sensual touch makes you tense, expecting pain where there is none. At the frightened gasp you let out, he tilts his head in amusement.

His voice echoes in your mind again, a baritone murmur that curls against your innermost thoughts. He coils across your deepest self, probing, plucking the synapses of your brain like harpstrings. Each gentle tug coaxes your body into a pliant, heated state. Privately, he speaks to you. My pets gave you quite the scare, didn’t they? He hums, his corporeal hands gliding across the length of your leg, your arm, your side. He touches you with obvious intent, though what that intention is somewhat eludes you still. Are you not a sacrifice? Are you not meant to be killed in his name? Don’t mind all that, dearheart. Set dressing, really. You’re here to give me a different kind of offering.

Slowly, deliberately, he climbs atop the altar and sits astride your hips. He continues his exploration of your body until one gloved hand finds its way to cradle your cheek, an unexpectedly-comforting touch that you can’t help but lean into with a quiet whine. The other trails down, down, until his fingertips caress the sensitive flesh of your cunt. It makes you jolt, which consequently gives him better access to you, and his fingers greedily explore the velvety skin, nerves firing off with sparks of pleasure. As one finger dips inside, coating itself in the slick of your inner walls, you suddenly find yourself understanding the true nature of your predicament. “Oh,” you breathe, any and all confusion draining from you to the beat of the chanting.

You’re not here to give your life. You’re here to give your body. You’re here to fuck a god.

Both inwardly and outwardly, said god chuckles, amused by your wide eyes and heated cheeks. Whatever did you think was going to happen, hm? He asks, despite knowing full well what you expected. Your body responds eagerly to his ministrations, skin heating up, hips bucking against the restraints keeping you prone. You summon your higher brain functions to glare halfheartedly up at him for teasing you, to which he only coos condescendingly. “Did you think I’d eat you or something, little one?” He speaks aloud, voice soft but still cool and dark, “Oh no, nothing so gauche. The only screams that will fill the halls tonight will be of pleasure.”

The line is so cheesy; if an ordinary man used it on you, you’d roll your eyes. But in this place, surrounded by devoted onlookers and helpless before a god, it only makes you keen for more. You arch your back against the stone, meeting the languid thrusts of his fingers with the bucking of your hips. He looks down at you with such unbridled desire that your head spins. Speaking of screaming- he whispers into your head -My name is Wesker. You’re among my acolytes now, you may speak it freely. Don’t be shy.

A second finger, just as deft as the first, finds its way inside of you. It’s so good and yet not nearly enough. You can’t help but writhe beneath the god- Wesker -as he teases you. Your restraints hold fast, chafing against your wrists and ankles, denying you from taking more than what is offered. It’s agonizing, but the pain sears you from the inside out so deliciously. Any modesty lingering within you is burnt away in the wake of his fiery eyes and the horrible pleasure he brings. Your own eyes blown out, misty with tears, you can’t help but stare out at the procession of chanting cultists.

They treat your debauchment as though it’s a sermon. They offer prayers over your escalating moans, and you may be delirious enough to hallucinate but surely you aren’t simply making up the visible tents in some of their robes. The knowledge that they’re aroused simply by watching their god unravel you on his fingers, that they have the discipline to continue their worship regardless, sends a piercing bolt of arousal straight to your pulsing clit.

You can feel your climax sneaking up on you, choking you from behind. “Please,” you gasp, suddenly breathless as you look back to your tormentor, “pl- ah- please, make me cum, ‘m almost- almost there…” it’s as much a prayer as the ones being offered by your voyeurs. You wriggle your torso invitingly, begging him with your body to give you the building ecstasy.

Wesker smiles in satisfaction at the mess he’s made of you. The hand not burying three of its deliciously-long, slender fingers in your sopping cunt comes up, grabs your chin between thumb and forefinger. He drinks in your wrecked expression like the finest liquor. “You can have it, pet,” he coos, lowering his face to hover just over yours, and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone more in your fucking life, “go on. Scream my name while I ruin you.”

And you do. By every strange deity in this cult’s perverted pantheon, you do. Your downright pornographic cry of Wesker echoes through the halls of the sanctum, and the way you can see him shudder at the sound of his own name is what finally tips you over the edge. It’s sinful, the flush that comes to his pale cheeks, but it’s delicious. His being pulses with a surge of power at having his name invoked, especially during such passion as yours. The cultists chant a devoted hymn in unison, voices raised in victory, seemingly empowered by your climax. Your better judgment leaks out of you alongside the juices of your orgasm, pooling in a clear puddle of slick on the granite. Of any fluid from your body to give to Wesker, this is the one you would gleefully offer again.

As you come down from the ravenous high, your wonderfully-foggy mind registers something else prodding at your fluttering hole in replacement of his fingers. It feels hot and hard, and though you can’t crane your head enough to look down and see what it is, you can hedge a bet. The thought of having him fill you, claim you from the inside out, is enough to have you writhing desperately again. You keen pathetically as your chains keep you steadfastly held down, wishing more than ever that they were gone and you could simply wrap your arms and legs around this god and cling to him while he gives you all he has to give. You strain your wrists, your ankles, against the fetters, praying for them to just snap out of existence.

As though sensing your frustration, Wesker leans down, pressing his lips against the side of your head in a strange pantomime of a kiss that leaves your chest feeling unexpectedly fluttery and light. His voice swims in your head. Feeling trapped, are we? He asks rhetorically, the hand not guiding his cock to rest against your winking cunt wrapping around the chain on your right wrist. You nod frantically, babbling out quiet, incomprehensible pleas to be freed. Oh, alright. I know you’ll behave for me. After all, I’m sure you remember what I do to pets I find unsatisfactory.

The small ripple of dread in the pool of hot lust makes you whimper. It’s an unwelcome reminder that though you may be enjoying yourself, you’re not here by choice, and you even have the cold corpse of the man who slapped you to act as visual aid. But you’ll be good. You’ve been good thus far, been sweet and obedient under his ministrations, and you have every intention of continuing that. You’ll be good for him. For Wesker.

With a subtle squeeze, the god in mortal flesh releases your shackled wrist. The chain turns warm, scaly, as do the ones on the rest of your limbs. The newly-transformed snakes, just as vantablack as the ones he summoned to kill the errant cultist, slither away from your wrists and ankles, leaving you blessedly free. They return to their master, merging with his writhing coat, but you don’t care, only concerned with satiating the bottomless lust eating through your core. You take hold of the gloved hand cradling the apple of your cheek, entwining your fingers with his. “Please,” you whisper, summoning your headiest, lustiest voice, “I’m ready. Take me, Serpent-Father.”

The deep, lustful growl Wesker lets out at your usage of the honorific you picked up on from the cultists lets you know you made the right call. You brace your feet against the stone just as he finally enters you, hot cockhead breaching your cunt and stretching you around him. Connected to the divine in a way more literal than most could ever hope for, you moan, utterly lost in the heavy liquid pleasure that fills you. Like molten gold, it keeps you pressed down, prone and pliant for your god, unable to even fathom saying no. A new chant begins, some cultists diverging from the herd in their own hymns and calls of prayer, all to the constant call of the ceremonial bell. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t help but feel the devotion of the assemblage is directed to you as much as it is to Wesker. This feeling, being watched with hungry, obsessive eyes, would normally frighten you. But safe within the solid embrace of your god, spread out for him and him only, it only makes you shudder and clench around him.

Another deep, baritone groan rumbles into you from his chest as he pushes inward, filling you thoroughly and making a pleasant weight in your core. Chancing a look down, you see he’s only about halfway, and your stomach drops out as you realize just how much you have left to take. A firm hand grips your cheeks and forces your head back up to his, though not painfully. “Look at me while I fuck you, little mortal. There is nothing else. Only me.” He orders, and you have no choice but to obey him. The hand not clasped in his and pressed down to the stone slab comes up to press at his back, forcing him closer to you. He chuckles at your insistence, but obliges, leaning in closer until you can feel his hot breath against your face.

The first thrust, once he finally sheathes himself in your cunt, makes you white out in sensation. It isn’t pain, nor pleasure, merely the feeling of being filled so profoundly. But it’s strong enough to leave you gasping for air while your mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The second plants a blooming seed of euphoria deep within you, and the third sees that seed take root and sprout. Wesker lets go of your face, assured of your obedience, and presses the hand instead to your abdomen, where you realize his cock leaves a bulge in your belly. The full-body tremor that shakes you and him both as he presses down, constricting your cunt and his cock in unison, is soul-shattering. The part of your brain not melting out of your ears right now is determined to join this cult after the ritual concludes, if only to experience such glorious sex again. You already know no mortal, man, woman, or otherwise, will ever be able to satisfy you now that you’ve tasted the forbidden fruit. Maybe Eve’s garden was tainted by the serpent, but yours is left bursting with new life by his touch. Your Eden is here, with him and him alone.

The rest of the world fades away, leaving behind only the faint chiming of the bell and the singing of your devotees behind the lewd sounds of leather against flesh. You float in a void of ecstasy in which exists only you and Wesker, you and your god. You cling to his hand like the lifeline it is, being fucked half to death as you are, his inhuman thrusts bullying his cockhead cruelly against your cervix. Never before has anything (or anyone) reached so deep inside you, and you’ve heard it said that having your cervix touched is horrifyingly painful. But all you feel is a profound sense of fullness, near bursting, as he rams against your innermost walls. You half expect him to breach even that and make his home directly in your womb, but thankfully, he doesn’t. Your soul sings out, and Wesker hears it, his presence already entrenched in your mind forever. He pulls the strings of your psyche as though you’re the most beautiful marionette, and he the most perfect puppetmaster. Your body, and all that comes with it, is stripped away, and you feel as if he’s fucking your very soul instead, making his home in the space between your astral projection and the back of your eyes. It’s unreal, unlike anything you’ve felt before, like the protective skin around your clit has been stripped leaving only the bare nerves to be stimulated directly. Without the hindrance of flesh, he drags you upwards to a climax more intense than you could have imagined before.

He holds you there, at the edge of the beautiful abyss, taking his pleasure from you first. Your ecstasy builds, peaks-

And when he brings your entwined hands to his mouth and buries his fangs in the delicate meat of your inner wrist, it crests. Instead of being thrown to the wave, the wave throws itself over you, dwarfing you even as you stand on the mountain of built-up pleasure, washing you away. You hear a high-pitched scream, and barely, you register it as your own. You open your teary eyes, seeing double for a moment as you fall back into your body, and watch as Wesker hungrily sinks his teeth into your wrist. It hurts, yes, and your body jolts at the pain, but it’s quickly washed away by the aftershocks of your orgasm. His eyes never leave yours as he laps at your blood, consuming your life essence while you tremble beneath him in a broken mess of cum and slick. He continues thrusting into you, and you feel his cock twitch, and your own arousal stirs again somehow at the thought of him breeding you, filling you with his seed and making you bear his divine children. All at once, he releases from your wrist, letting out a monumental growl of pleasure as he cums deep within you.

Your body simultaneously feels like it’s completely numb, void of any tactile sensation at all, and also oversensitive to the point of pain. A foreign presence makes itself known in your bloodstream, flowing from your bitten wrist to the rest of you. Somehow, you understand that this is his way of claiming you- marking you. No rival gods, much less mortals, will dare lay their hands on you now.

The exhaustion has caught up to you finally. The room splits into four, your eyes barely able to stay open and your body going completely limp. It’s a little frightening, and you look up at Wesker with fearful eyes, asking for guidance. His hand returns to hold yours, squeezing as if to reassure you. You are mine, he murmurs from within you, there is no turning back now.

His. You are his. Mortal plaything of the Serpent-Father, of Wesker. It should horrify you.

But the thought is comforting enough to make you relax. He brushes gloved fingertips across your eyelids, closing them for you. His voice is the last thing you hear. Sleep, pet.

When you wake, the cold stone beneath you has been replaced by sleek, soft sheets, warmed by your body.

Slowly, delicately, you sit up, taking stock of your body’s condition. You feel fine, well-rested, even. But then the previous night’s events flash before your eyes.

Being tied to a stone altar. A god of unfathomable power taking shape over you. Giving you his name, taking the most beautiful form. Fucking you until you passed out. His teeth in your flesh.

A phantom ache makes itself known in your sex, protesting the rigorous activity of the night. But that’s the least of your concern as you look at your wrist. In place of what should be a healing bite mark, there is a rune.

At least, you think it’s a rune. It’s the color of midnight, pure black, in the shape of a striped 8-sided star, with a snake coiling around it. The mark of Wesker. As you think of his name, an echo of the unrelenting euphoria he showed you last night washes over you. Your face heats up, and you subconsciously rub your thighs together.

There are worse gods to belong to, I guess.

You already know you’re not at home. Your bed isn’t nearly this comfy, nor is it covered in sleek silk sheets. You assume you’re somewhere else in the cultists’ hideout, somewhere offerings such as yourself are left to recuperate from their endeavor. You’re also no longer naked- looking down at yourself, sliding off the smooth fabric, you watch the sheer gown you’re wearing billow out around your legs. Like the bed, it’s black, and you can only assume it’s made of chiffon or gossamer given the weightlessness of the fabric. It hugs your body absolutely perfectly, draping over your skin and leaving your back & shoulders bare. It feels like a dream.

A pair of gloved hands suddenly takes hold of your hips. Gasping, you attempt to turn, only for the grip to tighten, keeping you in place. “Hush,” Wesker speaks, allaying your surprise somewhat, “it’s only me, dearheart.”

His body, hot and firm, presses against your back, possessively looming over you. He kneads your hips idly as you recover from the minor scare. His presence is soothing, reassuring. With his claim on you thoroughly set, you know he will keep you safe, even if it is only to protect his investment. “Where are we?” You ask softly, unsure of how to carry yourself around the god who fucked you so well you converted to his religion.

He hums quietly, hands trailing down to your thighs. “We are in my domain. After the ritual concluded, I brought you back with me. And here you will stay.”

“…what?” You breathe. His domain? As in, his realm of reality? A place outside of the mortal plane as you know it? You’re not meant to be here. You should be home, with your friends and family. You belong back on earth, not as a caged pet to an ancient god. As alluring, as magnetic, as he is, you cannot stay with him.

Wesker laughs, a touch of cruelty entering his voice as he takes in your slight panic. “What, pet, did you think that was a one-and-done affair? That I’d be satisfied with breeding you only once? Think again.” One hand comes up to grasp your face, forcing you to turn towards a large mirror you hadn’t noticed. Your reflection greets you, as does his, looming behind you.

The first thing you notice is the band around your neck. Made of black silver, it circles your neck perfectly, staying in place without being uncomfortably tight or even chafing. A collar, shaped like a snake devouring its own tail. Your collar.

Wesker’s calm voice breaks you from your investigation. “I do hope you like your collar, little one. You won’t be parting with it any time soon.

“It’s as I said- there is no turning back now, my dear. There is nothing else for you. Only me.”

And the rest of existence fades away, leaving only you. Only him.

Only pleasure.

#Albert Wesker #Albert Wesker x Reader #Smut #Halloween smut #Ask to tag #Monsterfucking #My writing #Resident evil #Nsft #from the desk of Lovelace #writing #snakes Tw #Eldritch god #Also available on Ao3

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zzprompto · 8 months ago

Note

hiiii I love your stuff and wanted to make a request. is it possible to get an accidental confession from the reader where we're either talking to ignis or whoever you choose about how we have feelings for either prompto or noctis and they over hear us talking about them? you can choose whoever or both. have a good day/night<3

thanks for requesting!

☆ not so secret

noctis lucis caelum x male reader [he / him]

sypnosis: above.

the lowercase is intentional !

[name] paced around, waiting for ignis to finish talking to gladio so he could get some advice of his own. his brain was rattling around in his head, different thoughts squirming around as he stood there, consumed by his own thoughts. he need to talk to ignis, and quick.

after what felt like centuries, ignis was finally done talking to gladio. [name] took this opportunity and he quickly rushed over to the cook, not wanting anyone else to steal his chance.

"ignis. we need to talk about something. something.. serious. i don't know who else to tell, i feel like you'd be the best guy out of all of us to talk to." [name] rambled, voice rushing to finish it's sentence - just how the thoughts were rushing around [name]'s mind.

ignis nodded in response to his friend's rambling, seemingly quite concerened now for his friend. what could of happened? surely it wasn't something bad, right? because [name] surely looked distressed.

"yes, of course. you can come to me for anything, [name]." ignis said, giving [name] a small smile. he hoped it would somehow reassure him, or calm his nerves about this hidden situation to an extent. "now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" ignis asked.

[name] took a deep breath, trying to calm down his racing mind. it seemed to work, or well at least for the time being. he could talk to ignis and not worry about his looming anxiety about the topic.

[name] cleared his throat, eyes focusing on the ground briefly before he looked up. he leaned in a little closer to ignis and he finally spoke. "i like noctis, romantically i mean. i just.. i just don't know if he feels the same. he has luna, a perfect, fairy tale ending to his story." [name] speaks, eyes trailing down to the floor once again. "no prince or king runs off with another prince, he always ends up with a princess - marrying her so she'd be his queen." [name] mumbles, clearly disappointed by the situation he has been put in because of his feelings.

ignis' eyes widen for a brief second as he takes in the initial shock after learning the news. his eyes then soften and he looks at [name] sympathetically, trying to make sure his friend doesn't worry about this 'boy drama' he has gotten himself into.

"i would've never thought you liked noct, but thinking back on it now it definitely makes sense." ignis chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he thinks of all the moments that had been shared between noctis and [name] over the years. it was clear that their bond was that beyond friendship - but to what extent? nobody knows yet.

throughout the years that all the men knew eachother, it was obvious that [name] and noctis were the closest. they'd always end up hanging out more, having more to say to eachother, or even having more secrets between eachother. it was clear that the two men cared for one another a fair deal.

yet, there was always a hint of something more.

there had always been a little glint in [name]'s eye whenever noctis was mentioned, or vice versa. there was always a smile, or a special applaud that the pair had for one another that they didn't have for anyone else. it was always clear that the relationship between the two was more than platonic.

even some of their friends caught up with all the signs. prompto was really the first one to notice, he even started to tease noctis about it. he'd often say how great of a couple the prince and [name] would be, and as of late he had been saying that noctis should marry [name] and not luna. noctis always brushed it off, however. he tried to act nonchalant, but there was always a blush on his cheeks whenever he heard the mention of his friends name.

whilst the conversation between ignis and [name] was occuring, noctis couldn't help but try and listen in. of course, his intentions were merely innocent. he had heard his name escape his friend's lips, and wanted to see if something was wrong. what he did not expect however, was for [name] to be confessing his feelings for him to ignis. noctis was perplexed.

the ravenette stood there in shock for a few seconds. he tried to process everything he had just heard, trying to see if he was just making things up. but no. he wasn't. [name] truly liked noctis romantically, and noctis felt his heart swelling as he heard the words fall out of [name]'s lips.

after gaining the courage, noctis decided to approach his friends. he stood besides [name] and smiled at the other man softly. it was the special smile he had only reserved for [name], none of his other friends. yet, this time the smile looked a bit different. it was as if the smiled was filled with an aspect of love and hope.

"i overheard what you said, [name]." noctis whispered as he stood besides his friend. ignis decided to take this as his queue to leave. he didn't even have to play the matchmaker, his friends were going to do that all themselves without his help.

[name] looked at noctis and he felt a little hot. perhaps it was from embarrassment, or perhaps it was even from the anticipation, the ever so painful longing of loving a friend.

"you did? oh fuck me.." [name] chuckled, shaking his head slightly as a nervous smile filled his features. noctis wanted to reply with something crude, but he decided to hold of for the time being. he'd say such things when they'd actually get together.

"i believe this prince doesn't need a princess.. another prince will do just fine for him." noctis replied, a smile on his lips to conquer the one [name] had. "that is.. if you're willing to have this prince?" the ravenette continued, holding out his hand for [name].

[name] nodded and he took noct's hand, taking a step forward to hug his friend. well, they weren't actually friends anymore. they were more than that now. they were practically soulmates, in all platonic and romantic senses.

"yes.. i am willing to have you and your offer of us being princes together." [name] hummed, feeling content as he held the prince in his arms. he just felt so relieved he didn't have to hide a part of him anymore. it was all out in the open.

noctis gracefully accepted the hug, his own arms going around [name]'s body. he wasn't sure what label to put on his relationship with [name] at the moment, but he was sure to find out. it was sure to be something that fit too, something that represented the two of them greatly.

"thank you." noctis whispered, pressing a small kiss to [name]'s cheek. the prince then earned a flurry of kisses to his face after that.

- author's note: hope you guys enjoy <3 decided to do noctis because i haven't written for him yet + there's barely any noctis content anyway

- navigation ; masterlist ; request

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vee-beeee · 1 year ago

Text

The Tent

Okay this is a change from dbh LOL

So im figuring out how to write for these characters, and its going to be harder because its 4 people so PLEASE forgive me.

Warnings: Tents, enclosed spaces with 4 boys

Chocobros x reader (can be taken as platonic)

Im sorry for any spelling errors or plot holess

SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE

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You woke up

And then wished you didn't.

It smelt like sweaty socks and boys.

Someone had shoved your back into their front, and was snoring VERY loudly. Another person had his socks in your face, sprawled out over what looked to be Noctis himself. So the case of the smelly socks was solved, that had to be Prompto. You didn't see anyone else in your line of vision, but guessing at how strong and muscular the arm around you was...

Gladio had turned you into his own personal teddy bear.

You gently tried to roll out of his grip, but he grunted and held on to you with a stronger grasp. You sighed and searched for another way out, you need air and to be away from this tent.

You briefly wondered if tickling Prom would wake him up so he could help, but you didn't really want to touch his feet.

So you sat, starting at the tent walls and daring to breathe through your mouth.

You thought about falling asleep again but whenever you tried, Gladio's snoring woke you up just as you were on the cusp of the dream realm.

What a terrible way to start your morning.

Finally, FINALLY you heard someone stir. You turned your body as much as you could in Gladio's grip and saw Ignis's hair over a massive leg.

"Ignis!" you whisper-yelled, hoping to get his attention. He turned around, sleep very much apparent on his face, and looked the entirety of the tent until his eyes caught yours.

"Miss Y/N?" He mumbled, raising an eyebrow at your position, Gladio crowding your back and Proms feet in your face. You had also felt Noctis was really close to your knees, you could feel his hair whispering against your skin. It was ticklish and uncomfortable.

Ignis huffed out a laugh, and you proceeded to beg him to help you.

"Why of course, Dear Y/N. However, I believe Gladio is going to kill me in his sleep if I remove you from his hold. I can help with Prompto and Noct however."

You sighed, sad he wouldn't even TRY not to get killed by Gladio. You watched him as he harshly rolled Prompto off of Noctis, and you were briefly worried that he would awake.

He just snorted and continued sleeping.

Ignis next went to Noctis to gently move his head away from your leg. Of course, Noct slept like a corpse so he didn't even notice. You took your chance to thank him, and ask a favor

"Can you leave the tent flap open I need air please."

Ignis nodded, and exited the tent, leaving the flap open. You started to bask in fresh air and morning light, but then the world turned upside down.

Gladio was rolling over, treating your body like you were an actual teddy bear.

He was now slightly under you, both arms surrounding you with the literal strength of a Titan.

And you were suffocating in his chest.

In ANY other scenario you would have been like "nice" . But in this one you could not breathe. And that was a problem. So you started gently saying his name.

Gladio groaned, but stayed asleep. You tried wrestling your arms out from his iron grip, but no use.

So you did the only thing you could think of.

Loud enough for him to clearly hear you, you poked the bear

"Ooo this book of gladios looks so good, im going to read it while eating chips and wipe my fingers on the pages and fold the edges to mark where i am. Surely he wont mind"

Suddenly you were shoved as his eyes shot open and he released you, sitting up to look around huffing.

"NO THATS MY COLLECTORS EDITION!" you breathed and rolled over as he looked around and found his book by his belongings.

Then he turned to you, brows furrowed and irritation clear on his features for 1. being woken up and 2. having his most prized book threatened.

"What the hell was that for?"

You moved onto your back and stuck your tongue out at him

"You were suffocating me in your pecs, I had to get free some how"

His anger faded into an embarrassed smile, and then a smug smirk.

"A lot of girls would pay real money to get suffocated in these pecs."

You rolled your eyes as hard as you could and he let out a hardy laugh, which accidently woke Prompto.

He snorted as he awoke, leaning on his elbows before asking "uh whats slo funmny?" and then promptly fell flat on his face, going back to his dreamless sleep.

You and Gladio stayed quiet before looking at each other and chuckling quietly. Gladio winked at you and turned to leave the tent. You watched his huge shadow as it moved across the tent, and then it disappeared.

After a couple of minutes, you heard Gladio and Ignis in the camp talking, and saw an opportunity to get more sleep. So you found your original spot and comfy sleeping bag, and settled in.

(A couple hours later)

You woke up, blinking your eyes slowly, feeling that you had gotten a good rest. You looked around and saw the Prompto had seemingly left, and you didn't see anyone else so that must mean Noct left too.

You closed your eyes again, resting them for a moment before you felt something moving around your front. You jumped and accidently smacked your elbow against the something. And that something groaned.

You looked down to see a mess of black hair nuzzling into YOUR blanket.

"Noct?" You leaned on your elbows and he looked up at you sleepily before groaning out a response

"you have the good blankets."

and then he was gone. But luckily, you had help to wake him back up.

Ignis had heard your surprised yelp, and knew it was time for Noct to get up. He had been chatting with Gladio and Prompto about how to pay for more car renovations, but that conversation could be put on hold.

Ignis grabbed a pot and one of his spatulas, before leaning down into the tent flap.

And then he started hitting them repeatedly together.

He saw you cry out and put your hands over your ears, and Noct just sat up slowly and glared at him.

Ignis smirked and left the tent when he saw Noct leaving, and you followed shortly after.

You watched Iggy put his utensils away and you went straight for the middle of the circle of chairs you all had put together the night before. Noct had just slumped down his camping chair when you started talking.

"Why do you guys love piling on me so much when we sleep? Like I wake up and your all over me."

You stood stalk still and waited for a response. You heard groaning and looked over to see Noct open one eye and looking at you.

"Smell nice and warm"

and then he was asleep.

Ignis sighed and walked over to shake him awake and you turned to see Gladio and Prompto nodding their heads. Gladio was the first to say something.

"I think he's right. Your a little babe space heater." You flushed, and he and Prompto laughed seeing your face.

"Yeah and you uhh, kinda smell a lot like roses." was Proms response, and now you watched him go red. Gladio slapped him on the back and Ignis chuckled quietly, continuing to try and wake Noctis up.

So your consensus was to buy more blankets, and an air freshener.

Fair enough.

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THANKS FOR READING

I dont know if this is cringe or how I did, but I hope I did good on my first time writing these guys.

Hope you enjoyeddd

#final fantasy 15 #final fantasy series #chocobros #ffxv noctis #ffxv gladiolus #ffxv ignis #ffxv prompto #ffxv x reader

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cravingsfromatwistedone · 8 months ago

Text

CHOCO-CHOCOBO! [ FIC / NSFW ]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: NOW THAT I'M PLAYING FFXV, I JUST KNOW THAT PROMPTO WOULD ADORE THE CONCEPT OF CHOCOBO GIRLS (FF13: LIGHTNING RETURNS IN YUSNAAN) ! I'D LIKE TO THINK THAT THE GUY FROM THE CANVAS OF PRAYERS WHO WANTED A CHOCOBO GIRL'S NUMBER WAS PROMPTO IN ANOTHER LIFE. ANYWHO, ENJOY READING, MY DARLINGS! TW: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, USAGE OF PETNAMES (PRINCESS, BABE), EXPLICIT NSFW CONTENT (IT STARTS OFF CUTE BUT IT GETS NASTY AFTER THAT!) PROMPTO ARGENTUM X FEM! READER

The Chocobo Post in Duscae has never been this livelier before ever since they organized Chocobo races. Now that the Deadeye in the area is dead, the owner and staff decided to implement a feature that was long pushed aside due to the past circumstances they had. With enough Gil and materials, what they had planned went in full swing, accompanied with many new and familiar faces; the owner himself even graciously invited the four Hunters

That's why the blonde male was shaking in his boots. Sure, he was excited that Noct mentioned something about visiting the Chocobo Post in a passing statement but he wasn't expecting this. His blue eyes keep flitting everywhere, from the gang to the owner then back to the girls in front of him. Mind you, girls who were dressed up akin to Chocobos. Their outfit consisted of scantily golden coloured bikini tops, thigh high stockings and boots that looked like Chocobo feet. Not to mention the feathery plumage behind them and the feathery wing-like gloves. It doesn't help that the girls were grinning at him, giggling at him as they beckon for him to come closer

"Hey, aren't you the one of the Hunters that killed off that Deadeye? Choco-choco thanks!" "Choco-chocobo, your hair have the same colour as our Chocobos! Say, do you want to take a picture with us?" "You're pretty cute for a Hunter, y'know! Come here, Chocobo boy!"

No wonder the guys were grinning from ear-to-ear in the car, refusing to give an inkling of what he was going to see when they arrived there. Everyone that day could still remember the visible flush that was on his cheeks and neck, the male capable of saying yes meekly to the Chocobo Girls' invitation for an impromptu photo session. It was a really, really long day

⋘══════∗ {♡} ∗══════ ⋙

"Do you think this looks alright?" You asked, the feathery plumage fluttering as you do a twirl. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Hard. "Yeah, it looks fine, totally fine—" He blurted out, propping his chin up on his hand as he stared up at the figure standing in front of him, baby blue eyes skimming down your form greedily. It doesn't help that his skin is warming up considerably too. He sat up straight, hands reaching out for you and his fingertips grazing your exposed sides "Can I touch it?" He coughed out, shaking his head as he cleared his throat before muttering "Can I touch you?—" His eyes are wide with so much hope pooling in them, his brows arching upwards and his lips pursed in a thin line. A very nervous, quivering line

"You don't have to ask permission," You giggled as a smile blossomed on your pink lips. Lips that he just simply adores. He sucked in a breath sharply, holding it as his gloved hands enveloped around the smooth flesh. He pressed his thumbs into your muscles gently, slowly trailing them upwards while he pulled you closer and closer to him "So pretty," He mumbled, his golden bangs tickling the skin of your breasts as he planted a soft kiss in between them "My very own Chocobo girl who's the cutest," The male added a beat later, letting his lips linger on your skin a while longer before sinking his teeth in, evoking out a gasp of surprise out of your lips. It's so hot. His ears are burning from hearing that precious little noise. "The sexiest," He drawled out, arms snaking around your hips and waist as his hands began to fondle with the straps of the costume "Wanna take these off," He muttered, his fingers hooking into the elastic band of your shorts, sliding them down just enough so he could see your pussy. It was soaking wet, your wetness staining the fabric. His tongue swiped against his lips unconsciously, his eyes narrowing in interest as he pulled the cloth down all the way through before his hands went back to squeeze your thighs, tempted to just swipe the pads of his fingers against your clit "All this just for me?" He questioned, the edges of his eyes crinkling from grinning too widely "Can't wait to fuck you stupid, babe—" The male hastily dragged his other hand to the buckle of his belt, undoing it as he tugged you down to his lap, cock straining against the fabric of his jeans and once he does undo his jeans, he's almost embarrassed of how stiff he was. Keyword; almost. He couldn't care less of about what he feels right now, the only thing he wants to feel is your tight walls enveloping him and clenching down on him like a vice. His blue eyes turned into half-lids as he watched how the head of his cock brush and prod against your soaked folds, your arousal just simply dripping and coating over the flushed tip. He let out a hiss through gritted teeth as you started to lower yourself down, fingers digging into your backside as you take him inch by inch He knew that you had to ease yourself like this every time, your cunny too tight even for his size but fuck, he can't take it anymore—

The blond wrapped his arms around you, muttering a gentle 'Sorry' against the shell of your ear before grabbing a handful of your thighs and forcing you down his cock, the male happily swallowing up your whimper when he pressed his lips on yours. " 'm sorry, 'm sorry—" He chanted, groaning into your mouth as your hips met in rapid succession "Wanted my cock in you so, so, much, princess—" As soon as he said those words, he felt you tighten around his pulsing cock and he nearly sprained his neck from how hard he threw his head back, his brain filled to the brim with the thoughts of your warm pussy and how good it felt to be in it. One of his hands slithered up to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back just so he could litter a mess of hickeys on the soft skin of your neck

"That's it, keep-mmh-taking my cock like that," The blond praised, his mouth parted slightly before he moved up to your lips, blue eyes fluttering shut from the taste of your tongue invading his mouth which just made him hasten his pace even more. He had to pull away, he had to. If not, he would've busted his load right then and there and he didn't want that He wanted his sweet, sexy girlfriend to cum first So with another whine leaving his lips, he dragged his hand to be in between your legs, rubbing his fingers on to your clit furiously while you start to squirm in his embrace. The male knew you was close, judging by the way your muscles are tensing up, your moans getting higher in pitch. He wasn't so far behind either, his thrusts mostly consisted of him rutting his pathetic cock in and out as he tried to push the both of you over the edge "P-Prompto, I'm going to—" Your words were cut off by a loud, pleasured cry and it made Prompto lose his mind, your slick juices dribbling down his thighs as he continued to bully his cock into you. It was more than enough for the man to let loose now that your needs were satiated first. With another bruising kiss to your lips, the blond pulled away before putting his entire focus into his pace, not really heeding the constant pleas and whines from you to 'slow down' and be 'gentle' He's almost there, he can feel it. His thighs going taut, his jaws clenched and the constant, throbbing ache in his loins as he kept on going. His persistence was then rewarded, the blond whimpering in pure delight as he felt his sweet girl clenching on him for the third time. His body not even hesitating to just simply flood you with his warmth, your pussy milking his cock for he's worth while you both basked in the sweet, sweet afterglow. He'll worry about the Chocobo costume later on, his brain's too mushed to think about cleaning them and returning them back to the owner. It was a rental after all

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 1 year ago

Text

A Long Rest Is Overdue

pairing : ignis scientia x (fem) reader

summary : in a moment of over-tired weakness you let your insecurity affect your performance on the battlefield. ignis takes it upon himself to change how you're thinking.

warnings : weapons used, talk of feeling useless but nothing else. mostly fluffy.

With every swing of your blade you feel your arms growing weaker and weaker. Your body is tired due to Noctis refusing to admit he was also tired and keeping the group on the road all day. The sun is setting above you but the heat from midday continues on. Despite the sunset Noctis still refuses to rest. Another swing, and a cramp in your wrist. You know that if you let your sword fall you will be viewed as a failure. You’d be failing as a guard for Noctis, the training you went through with Gladiolus for moments exactly like this one would all be for nothing. Prompto, even as your best friend, would look at you differently. And most of all you’d be disappointing Ignis.

But your legs are giving out, and your sword is becoming much too heavy to carry in your hands. You try to focus on your breathing, channeling all your strength into your arms to keep your sword up. Another swing. Another. A shot from Prompto's gun rings out and kills the enemy in front of you.

“You okay?” His voice is laced with worry, even as he continues to fire his gun around. More eyes are on you now. This is exactly what you didn’t want. They couldn’t see you like this. They needed to focus. You shoot Prompto a curt nod and move on with your blade hanging dangerously close to the ground. Another enemy, a heavy swing, and a swift jab to finish it off. Your blade sticks in its chest and you're unable to pull it out.

The battle is over and every enemy surrounding you is now lying around you on the ground, killed by other members of the group. Still embarrassment pulses through your body and you continue to pull weakly at the handle of your sword.

“Goddamnit!” You send an aggressive kick into the animal laying in front of you, pulling your sword out finally. It doesn’t get very far and you hear the metal clang as it hits the ground.

“That’s quite enough. The battle is over.” Ignis’ heavy hand lands on your shoulder but you refuse to look up from the place your sword rests. Your breath is heavy as you feel Ignis bend his shoulders looking to meet your eyes. You know the view he’s getting, sweaty face, red from over exertion and growing ever redder from embarrassment. Your muscles are sore enough to make your whole body shake, and your skin is covered in a layer of dirt wetted by the sweat running along your body.

His face finally meets your eyes, brimmed with tears and still refusing to look into his. You know he sees, and it only makes you more embarrassed. You blink and a single tear makes a slow journey down your cheek, dripping off your jaw. To your surprise, though, Ignis doesn’t say anything about it.

“Alright Noct, I propose we set up camp for the night. I believe we’ve had enough for today. I’ll prepare something for us to eat.” Noctis is silent and for a moment you honestly think he’s going to refuse, but your shoulders fall in relief when he agrees to Ignis’ idea. You fling your sword onto your back, wiping your face of any wetness before turning back to the group with a tired smile on your face.

With Noctis and Gladiolus in the front, Ignis following close behind and Prompto holding himself back to wait for you. “Hey..um.. Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You look at him, eyes red, but you don’t make eye contact for very long to keep him from suspecting anything.

“It’s just you seemed unfocused on the field. And, right now, you look like you're about to cry.” You notice that Ignis slows in front of you, walking just close enough to hear you speak.

You look at Prompto again, putting a smile on your face as best you can, “No need to worry bud. I’ve never been better! Let’s just get to the regalia.” Prompto looks like he wants to say something else but he stays quiet.

When you finally get to the Regalia you hop in the backseat so you don’t have to speak to Ignis. You feel worthless and the possibility of him looking at you with pity or shame in his eyes has your stomach rolling just thinking about it. You don’t speak the whole car ride, even though Prompto's fingers play with the bracelet on your wrist and you can feel a pair of eyes burning into you from the rearview mirror.

You think about what had started these thoughts that were hindering your abilities. Two months ago, you remember, you had made it clear to Ignis that you had gained strong feelings for him and to your surprise those feelings were returned. However ever since that moment you had been pushing yourself much farther than usual to keep him impressed. The last thing you would ever want to do is make him disappointed. But your performance had been worsening as you continued to overwork yourself. Instead of making yourself stronger you were just making yourself a bigger liability.

His eyes still bore into you from the mirror, you can feel them. When you move your eyes to meet his, he keeps eye contact for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. You let out a heavy sigh before looking back at the land passing by the car, a wet line traveling down your cheek once more, quickly wiped away by your hands. Though, your sniffle is hard to cover up and you feel that same set of eyes on you once more.

Ignis pulls over maybe a half hour later, your eyes are teetering on the edge of closing but when the car comes to a full stop you climb out with an uncharacteristic rush of energy. They set up camp, sharing jokes with each other, everyone but Ignis. He’s quiet as he sets up a place to cook dinner. He places a stool on the side, an unusual sight for someone who usually stands but it makes sense when his eyes meet yours and he points to the stool sternly.

You feel weirdly as if you were in trouble so after your sword is placed safely by your tent, you walk over to the stool sluggishly and sit in front of him. The sternness he wore before is gone as he speaks to you now. “What would you like to eat my dear?”

The pet name rolls off his tongue so fluidly it would make you weak in the knees if you weren’t already seated.

“Will you make my favorite?” Ignis nods, a warm smile on his face before he begins cooking. All you can do is stare at him, he looks so at peace when he’s cooking and it almost puts you at peace too. Almost. But suddenly your mind is racing to your thoughts from before and you are thinking about how disappointed he must be in you. You turn to look at the fire where Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio are all sitting talking with each other and you think about going to sit with them instead but when a bowl is placed in your lap, the idea leaves your head.

“Thank you, Iggy.” You lock eyes and you swear you see pink glide across his cheeks before he turns to make dinner for himself and the boys. You didn’t know why but he always ensures that you eat whatever you want him to make, before the boys have eaten at all.

After you finish eating you move to clean your bowl off, and you feel a presence behind you. His low and tired voice sends a shiver through your bones.

“I need you to sit up on the table once you're finished.” It’s Ignis. His voice makes your stomach stir again but you do as he says. The other three boys are still at the fire, far enough away that they wouldn’t hear the words leaving his mouth. Their laughs echo through your campsite. Your eyes stay glued to your boots, legs hanging off the edge and swinging around. You were waiting to be berated, or for him to say he was disappointed in your performance, or chastise you for showing weakness on the battlefield.

But none of that ever comes. Instead his hand moves to cup your cheek, lifting your face up to look at him. In his other hand he holds a washcloth, which he dips into a bucket of water he had already filled. “You have a cut on your cheek, may I?” With warm cheeks, you nod at him, giving him your permission.

Slowly he lifts the rag up to your face, gently wiping away a layer of grime and dried blood from the side of your face. Even though you didn’t feel it before, the water dripping down your skin and the roughness of the rag makes the cut sting and your skin tingle. As he wipes away at your skin, and the stinging becomes more noticeable you try to focus on anything else.

His hand is still on your cheek but the warmth is not enough to distract you from the tingle on your cheekbone. Your eyes scan around for something more, landing on his face. His hair is down, a rare occurrence. It’s his lazy hair, his after the shower hair, his ‘I ran out of gel’ hair. Your fingers twitch, a reflex from wanting to run your fingers through it, but they don't move. You don’t feel the stinging anymore.

He tosses the rag back into the bucket of water, but his eyes don’t leave yours. It almost feels like he’s caging you on the table with the way his hands are resting by both of your thighs.

You take the opportunity to touch his hair like you had wanted to before. His hair hangs in front of his eyes and you lift your hand to move it out of his face, running your fingers through his hair towards the nape of his neck. But his eyes are still on yours and the thoughts come back all at once, hands falling to your lap and eyes following quickly after.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to figure that one out on my own?” Your eyes are glued to your hands still, and a sigh leaves his mouth moving the hairs in front of your face. Your hands are shaking in your lap when one of his own hands finds your face again. But you still don’t answer him.

“My darling..” He moves your face to meet his once more , “I know something is bothering you. Please, will you tell me so I can help you?” Even with his glasses on, the softness in his eyes shines through.

“I feel useless Iggy..” A breath you didn’t realize you were holding flies from your lips, and your eyes cloud with tears. “I have been trying..so hard..to keep you impressed with what I can do. And Noct has been staying on the road longer than at our campsites, so I’ve been using all the little energy I have to be a better fighter and to make sure you're not disappointed in me.” You continue to blubber out, “And I’m so sorry Ignis. I know I screwed up today. Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to cry. I’m sorry for crying.”

You struggle to form coherent sentences in between trying to catch your breath. You become flush from embarrassment, crying like a little kid while his eyes never leave your face. Your eyes red from wiping at tears before they fall and your nose pink from sniffling. Even your lips become puffy, and you wear a pout as you try to stifle sobs from falling out. His thumb rubs your cheek, wrapping his other arm around you to the small of your back to pull you into a tight embrace.

The smell of his cologne fills your nose, and as you stay in his arms clinging to his torso, your sobs begin to lessen. Slowly, after making you take some deep breaths, he pulls away to look you in your eyes again.

“First of all. You could never disappoint me, get that idea out of that pretty head of yours, and in no way did you ‘screw up’ today. Shedding tears does not make you weak, even if you do it while holding a sword. And I could never be mad at you for crying,” He cups your cheeks in his hands, both this time, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs, “You are not useless, my dear, you are one of the strongest people I know. You pushed through exhaustion to keep Noct safe and I am so proud.”

Your lips curve at the corners, just barely, but just as quickly leave when Ignis speaks again.

“However. You will not be pushing through said exhaustion anymore and I will be ensuring that we stop much more often to prevent this. No matter what Noctis says about it.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, and the curvature returns to your lips.

“One more, for me?” You puff your lips out towards him in a half-teasing manner but when his hands that cup your cheeks pull you in with a smile dancing on his own lips, your face breaks out in flames of pink.

His lips meet yours softly, yours wet and plump from crying and his slightly cracked from being out in the sunny desert for so long. Ignis is gentle, like he’s scared to be too rough due to your fragile state, but he holds his lips against your long enough to make you flustered. He pulls away, removing one hand from your cheek but keeping the other on your face to feel the warmth of your blush under his palm.

“Now let us join the others by the fire, yeah?”

#ignis scientia #ffxv ignis #ffxv #final fantasy #ignis scientia x reader #final fantasy 15 #ff15 #ff15 ignis #noctis lucis caelum

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tofulune · 2 years ago

Text

༻laundry day

—"gonna shrink your shirt"

noctis lucis caelum x reader

Synopsis: Loving Noctis is like wishing for rain on a hot summer day. Irritating and Pointless.

Tags: [Words: 1,129], pining, angst, set before the game, reader is gender neutral

a/n: fun fact i finished writing this while waiting for my laundry to dry LMAO

“Pom, what are you doing?” You take the lollipop out of your mouth and gesture towards the house of cards Prompto was building on the floor of the laundromat.

“I’m trying to keep busy.” Prompto mutters as he carefully places the next card on the tower.

The laundromat smells like chlorine and despite the slight breeze you feel whenever the fan hanging by the door turns your way, your skin feels sticky from sweating so much.

It was a hot summer day and Ignis decided that today was cleaning day at Noctis’ apartment.

“This room is not fit for a Prince, let alone the soon-to-be King.” Ignis had said in his ever so posh voice.

You and Prompto couldn’t weasel your way out and were included in the cleaning regime since you were already hanging out at Noct’s place. You guys weren’t doing anything in particular—just sitting in front of a fan while playing King’s Knight on your phones.

The four of you spent the day scrubbing Noctis’ apartment down floorboard by floorboard, top to bottom. Your feet are sore and astrals know you need a shower.

When you guys were done with that, Ignis prompted things to go by quicker if the four of you split up. Ignis and Noctis went grocery shopping while you and Prompto were on laundry duty.

“The fact that it’s not even our OWN laundry we’re waiting for.” Prompto leans back on his hands with a groan.

A high pitched beep plays from the dryer and you jump off of it to unload the first batch of clothes.

When you open the dryer, a white piece of folded paper falls out onto the floor.

“Oh, hey. I guess Noct left something in his pockets.”

You pick up the note and start to unfold it when a hand snatches it out of yours.

“No!” Prompto clears his throat.

Your eyes widen and you furrow your brows in confusion as Prompto starts to walk away from you.

“Psh, this is just…a list of princely duties.”

Prompto sings the last part as he folds the paper up again.

You nod your head, suspicious. Prompto tries to avoid your eyes.

“Prompto, what’s that?” You say slowly.

“Nothing!”

You stare the blonde down until he shrinks his shoulders.

“You’re not gonna wanna read it.” Prompto mumbles.

“Try me.” You say, walking up to him and taking the note from his hands with your thumb and pointer finger.

It’s a letter from Noctis addressed to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you bring the note closer to your face.

You skim through it, brushing past him telling you about his engagement to the Oracle and how he’ll be leaving Insomnia to be wed to her because you didn’t need to cry over that again.

What sticks out to you is the line in the smack middle of the letter.

‘The truth is I’ve liked you for a long time.’

‘I’ve liked you.’

‘I like you.’

You zero in.

Because Noctis is Noctis and he holds his feelings in until they implode on himself, he rambles on for a couple of paragraphs about his feelings for you, but you skim past that, too.

Because how could he? How could Noctis confess now of all times?

You pale as you lower the note.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have read it.” Prompto sympathizes, pouting.

“Did you tell him?”

“No, you told me not to.” Prompto says as if it was such a sure thing.

You fold the paper up, putting it in your own pocket. The letter has reached its receiver.

You and Noct have always had this kind of tension in your friendship. Lingering touches and words that could mean more than platonic. It’s a tricky type of thing. Something you don’t want to break. You and Noctis were both cowards, afraid of tipping the boat and drowning, because what if it didn’t work out? What if these feelings were a phase and once you both got into a relationship it would lead to regret?

For a second, Noct’s letter, his words, made you feel like maybe this was something worth feeling, but ultimately it isn’t. People are dying in the never ending war and in order for it to end Noctis has to marry the oracle. It’s what the king decided.

That’s why the letter was crumpled at the bottom of his dirty cargos.

It’s why you’ll bite your tongue and stuff it in your own pockets.

“But this is a good thing! Isn’t it!” Prompto smiles in hopes of cheering you up. “Noct likes you, you like Noct.”

You give Prompto a sad smile before wincing.

“Prom,” You say his name solemnly, “This doesn’t change anything.”

Prompto’s smile dies and he sighs.

“Yeah, I know.” Prompto says after some silence.

You take Noct’s clothes out of the dryer, put them in a basket for Prompto to fold, and start on the next batch.

The dryer springs to life again and you heist yourself back on top

You gnaw on your lollipop stick for a bit.

“When are you guys leaving?” You mutter out.

The question makes Prompto pause, but he resumes folding.

“In three days.”

You nod once, slowly.

It’s sunset when you and Prompto walk out of the laundromat, and with only a few steps there’s Ignis and Noctis.

Noctis—with his stupid spiky hair, and his adoring blue eyes, and his red-bottom combat boots that look way too big for him.

It feels like you’re seeing him with new eyes even though he’s always been like this. Now, it’s different because you know he sees you, too.

Prompto eagerly greets the two and teases Noctis about how long it took for his laundry to dry and how great of a friend he is that perhaps it calls for a royal favor to which Noctis mutters out a, “yeah, right.”

“I can’t wait to get back home.” Noctis groans and rolls his neck back.

He shoots you a teasing smile, but it’s different from all the other ones now that you know what you know. You see the hidden glint in his eyes behind his bravado and your heart aches for a future you can’t have.

You give him a small smile back, heisting the laundry basket up before making your own complaints.

The truth is he never planned to confess to you and neither will you.

Whatever you and Noctis have now is all you’ll ever have—

You know that.

He knows that.

Loving Noctis is like wishing for rain on a hot summer day.

Irritating and pointless.

#noctis lucis caelum x reader #noctis x reader #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv x reader

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sanjismywhore · 2 years ago

Text

Brain and Heart

Ignis Scientia x reader

Warnings: Fluff, rejection

Requested by @batsandbirdsposts

Tysm for making this request! I hope you like it!!! (I’m sorry it took so long 😭)

————————————————————————

Stepping outside, you stared out at the sky full of stars above. Even if they couldn’t deliver any comfort tonight, you needed this moment to clear your head.

Then you heard the soft crackle of the fire. When you turned your head, A small luminescent campfire glowed at the center of camp. Ignis was sitting next to the flame.

His features were softened by the glow of the fire. A soft streak of light highlighted his face. His hair was disheveled, contrasting with his usual spiked pompadour.

He looked content… almost ethereal, like some sort of celestial being. You approached slowly, to not startle him, “Hey there, Specs.”

He didn’t look surprised when he caught sight of you and simply said, “Care to join me?”

As he gestured towards the ground, you walked towards him and sat next to the small patch of grass he was patting.

Ignis shifted into a more comfortable pose before breaking the silence with his eloquence. “It’s not like you to be up so late…” Looking directly at the embers of the campfire, he continued. “Is something troubling you?”

“I could ask the same,” You tried to give him a smile despite the abrupt awkwardness in the silence.

For a short moment, Ignis said nothing. He kept his gaze firmly planted on the embers as they rose into the air. “It’s been difficult to fall asleep lately…” His voice softened, then so did his eyes as he looked at the sky.

A sigh left your lips as you ran a hand through your hair. “Same here… Something’s been on my mind.” You swallowed hard, almost too afraid to admit it.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, staring at the fire alongside him.

His gaze drifted from the stars, towards you, and settled on your face. It seemed as though he wanted to say something else but he refrained. He merely kept his eyes on you, a silent plea for you to continue.

So you did, “It’s about Noct…” you paused, taking a deep breath. “How much I care about him.”

Ignis observed your face, his eyes boring into yours, which somehow brought you comfort. He sighed quietly, “I think we all feel that way…” He glanced at the flames dancing in front of him.

After a few moments, his voice returned to normal, sounding distant. “Perhaps you shouldn’t dwell on your feelings… But don’t forget who you are. We will never lose Noctis, but we should not hold onto him so tightly.” A faint hint of concern shone briefly in his eyes. “We all love him…” Then he added in a softer tone, “even if he has trouble showing it in return.”

That statement gave you pause.

“That’s not what I meant-“ You said, trying to explain your point of view to him. But then you realized that you weren’t even sure what you meant. “I just… wish things were different.”

“You wish he would’ve chosen you instead of Lunafreya? You have feelings for him, do you not?” He interjected with utmost speed and punctuation.

You shook your head vehemently. “Not really. I mean, yes. Of course, I do. But that’s not the point.” Iggy’s glass fogged up with surprise, but it was only faint. “What exactly is the point of this talk, (Name)?”

“I don’t know…” You replied truthfully, looking anywhere but at him. Silence descended on the two of you again. You leaned backward until you were laying flat on your back, staring up at the black sky. You felt yellow all over, going stiff from the anxiousness.

Neither of you spoke until Ignis broke the silence once again. “Do you love Noct?” His emerald gaze fell upon you once more. The question caught you off guard not because of its nature, but because of his tone when he asked. He sounded anxious.

It sent a shiver down your spine, making you want to curl into yourself even further. You wondered if you should lie. “Well… I… uh…” Words wouldn’t come to you. Cottonmouthed, all you could manage was a defeated sigh. “Yes, I love him…”

At that simple answer, Ignis visibly relaxed, although you could tell the tension in his shoulders wasn’t entirely gone. “I see,” he muttered softly.

The fire was beginning to die out, getting dimmer and dimmer. “And yet, you do not pursue anything. What happens to the relationship between you and him if you keep waiting?” The fire cast eerie shadows over both of you; the flickering light made it seem like the two of you were facing each other.

You slowly rose back into a sitting position. “I want to tell him, I do. But…” You paused again. The words stuck in your throat.

“But I don’t think it would go well.” You balled up your fists against your leg, looking at the ground sheepishly.

Ignis draped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him. “A confession isn’t guaranteed to change the circumstances. All one can do is hope. That hope may be futile, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be attempted.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shrouding yourself in silence for yet another long moment. “How do you get to be so wise, Iggy?”

As expected, a warm chuckle escaped his lips. “Human nature I suppose.” He squeezed your shoulder gently before releasing his grip, “Though I’m not as knowledgeable as I seem.”

He turned his head slightly and looked at you. Although it might have looked innocent, it held the slightest trace of worry within it. “There are times when people need encouragement to make their way forward. And I am always here to assist.”

His expression softened, turning gentle.

You smiled weakly in response. Just after a while, he stood up from the ground, looking down at you and offering his hand. “Get some rest. Tomorrow might bring with it many chances for you.”

The next day, you woke up with a heavy feeling inside your chest. The sun shone brightly through the tent flap, painting everything orange and yellow.

It was a new day, and you were brimming with confidence thanks you Iggy’s encouragement.

Leaving the tent, you immediately searched for Noctis. Though he wasn’t at the camp when you searched around.

Noctis was sitting near the lake’s shore, holding a sword in the palm of his hand as he watched the water. He looked like he was roughed up pretty well; no doubt he was training with Gladio all morning.

Seemingly lost in thought, the prince had a vacant look on his face as though he was thinking deeply about something. Every so often his hand would run over the blunt end of the blade before looking at the lake once again.

His features were hardened by the reflection of the lake on his skin, shielding the scenery around him in a soft blue dye. His eyes were narrowed with a cold expression that gave you butterflies just by looking into them.

Hair disheveled, and skin covered in bruises, Noct managed to look as majestic as ever.

After a few moments of watching him silently, you took a deep breath and decided enough was enough. “Hey, Noct.” You greeted him in a cheery tone as you approached him.

At hearing your voice, Noctis looked up and blinked. “Hey,” he managed in an exhausted tone. There were dark rings under his eyes; not having gotten enough rest either. And didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk.

“Gladio beat your ass again?” You chuckled softly with an amused smile tugging at your lips as you crossed your arms.

Noct only scoffed and rolled his eyes at the comment, planting his sword on the ground. “Only cause he’s a monster. All about ‘power’ and ‘strength’… Stuff like that…” He groaned as he stood up, rubbing the hell out of his sore neck.

Stepping away from the rock you were just leaning on, you moved closer—leaving enough space between the two of you. “I could give you some pointers if you wanna try again-“ At the utterance of your suggestion, he cut your words short.

“Yeah right. I’m done.” He interjected almost comically, sitting on the grass and then falling onto his back. “I don’t think I can take any more of this.” He threw his arms out, causing the grass under his arms to rustle.

A small laugh escaped you as you sat beside him, looking up at the clouds in the sky, which appeared to be forming a perfect circle. “It’s only for a little while longer,” You turned to him with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Once you get married…“

Suddenly the air was taken from your lungs. Your body went rigid as the words registered in your brain. “Married…” You repeated much quieter; your mood turned sour.

Noctis seemed to sense your sudden shift, as his gaze shifted towards you, softening as he studied your reaction.

For a brief moment, you saw confusion and uncertainty flash across his face before he completed your statement. “Yeah… Once I marry Luna, we’ll have an advantage over the empire.” He raised a brow at you as if you weren’t already aware of the fact.

You swallowed hard, trying not to grimace from the embarrassment you felt at the moment. “Right…” You managed to breathe out, clearing your throat. “Then you’ll be leaving… With her?”

Noctis raised both brows and leaned in your direction. “Of course not. Where did you get that idea?” Even though he didn’t sound annoyed, but rather curious, it still caused you to shrink down a bit inside.

You looked away, avoiding his curious gaze. “Nothing... just wondering…” An intense amount of heat flowed to your face, making you sweat.

Silence engulfed the pair of you again, and tension continued to grow stronger by the minute. It didn’t help that tears were beginning to spill from your eyes, yet you didn’t know why.

“What’s wrong?” He prodded, scooting closer to examine you. However, you were afraid of what might happen if you looked back at him.

You sniffled, “Because…”

Your head hung low from the embarrassment you felt. Taking a moment to wipe your eyes until they turned dark and puffy, you sucked up every ounce of courage you had left, forcing out:

“Because I love you.”

Noct’s hitching breath was uncomfortably audible, “What?” He was taken aback by your words. His body went stiff as he sat there wide-eyed and genuinely surprised,

“You love me?” He repeated a soft utterance of your words, leaning back on his palms and continuing to look at you. “Like, really love me?”

You only managed to nod your head. A few more minutes of silence passed before you began to curl up into a ball.

“I know it makes no difference when I tell you,” Your eyes stayed fixed on the grass in front of you. You couldn’t stand to even imagine the look in his eyes anymore. “But I wanted to.”

He sighed, running his fingers over the grass as he stared straight at the lake, “I always saw us as just friends. You, me, and the guys…”

Visibly uncomfortable with his choice of wording, Noct searched for a better term for his feelings. “I like you all the same.”

“As friends…” You returned in a gloomy tone.

“No, more than that…” He shook his head and waves his hand out in front of him like he was denying your statement. With a frustrated grunt, he forced out the only thing he would think of:

“I love you as a family!”

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. The word “family” hit you right in the feels and almost brought fresh tears to your eyes, but the heartache was soon replaced with a wave of relief.

“That’s the only way I can say it,” Noctis showed a hint of remorse for making you feel upset. “Sorry…” His apology was genuine, though I necessary since he wasn’t at fault for anything.

“I’m sorry for getting all mopey…” You uttered in a quiet tone, calming yourself down until your breathing was even again. “I knew what to expect and shot for it anyway,” You laughed softly, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

You felt pathetic crying over something like this, but Noct was surprisingly understanding.

He stood up from the grass, offering a hand to you. You accepted it, allowing him to pull you up off the ground.

After brushing yourself off a bit, you glanced back up at Noct and saw that his arms were outstretched. An invitation for a hug—something he rarely ever did.

You took the chance, hugging him tight. Closing your eyes, you used the time to lean into him and let your bodies sync in both pulse and movement. You sighed,

“Thank you for listening.” You mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter with a tender embrace. He patted your back gently, saying nothing before pulling away.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he probably wanted to say something else but decided against it in the end. “You gonna be okay?” He asked awkwardly.

You nodded, “I think so.”

Walking back uphill to the haven, you noticed Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis packing up the camp as they prepared for the next voyage.

As they spotted you walking toward them, they waved excitedly, “Yo! You’ve been gone for a while now. Did something happen?” Prompto inquired, dropping everything as he faced you.

“Was just talking to Noct over there…” You pointed behind yourself, continuing to walk towards them.

As Ignis stepped away from his makeshift kitchen space, he stepped towards you cautiously. “How did It go?” He whispered, placing his arm on your back and leading you away from the earshot of the others.

“Guess.” You groaned, leaning into his touch; eventually pressing your forehead on the upper part of his shoulder.

“You knew what would happen and told me to talk to him anyway. You set me up.”

Though your tone was more playful than hurt, a small part of you regretted even confessing to Noct in the first place. If only Iggy never talked you into it.

You felt his hand travel up your back, slowly making its way to your head—where he stroked your hair softly. “My apologies… it is simply impossible for someone to predict what will happen in a situation such as this.”

His eyes seemed to smile at you, yet you could hardly tell through the tinted lens of his glasses.

Sighing, you closed your eyes tightly, feeling your stomach churning... “I knew how it would turn out, and still told him like an idiot…” You felt nauseous.

Ignis gave a soft chuckle, “Well… I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.” His tone was hopeful and gentle as he squeezed your shoulders lightly. He always tried his best to make you feel better.

You nodded absentmindedly. “Still sucks though.”

Ignis, still holding you close, brought you to his cooking space—he hadn’t finished packing it all up just yet. “It will get easier once you get used to it. If you need to talk, you know I’m always here.”

Your lips curved up a bit as you felt a warm feeling enveloping your chest. “Thanks.” You mouthed, stepping away from Ignis and taking a seat on a log.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you sit down, anticipating your next action behind a blank stare.

“Gonna join me, Specs?” Tapping the space on the log beside yourself, you gestured at him expectantly. Ignis looked over at where the others stood, who were doing well on their own, before nodding and following your instruction.

As soon as he was seated, you reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly. When you released it again, he looked down at his fingers and smiled faintly. The two of you sat together without saying anything, just enjoying a platonic moment of intimacy in silence.

The calm breeze gently blew through your hair, bringing with it a cool feeling, making you sigh content.

Once again you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. It did feel like Ignis was the only one in the group who truly understood you. You could tell him anything so easily and he would listen with or without reply.

He would just listen with patience and understanding. That alone made you believe he cared about you, which made it easy for you to trust him more and more.

With his hand wrapped around yours, Ignis continued to rub soothing circles on your wrist, hoping that it would calm your nerves a little more.

You closed your eyes, humming softly under your breath and letting out a long breath.

The two of you remained in silent comfort and warmth, enjoying each other’s company while being able to do nothing but enjoy it.

When the others started to make their way back to join you at the camp, neither of you made any move to get up.

Instead, Ignis kept looking at you and smiling fondly as he watched you relax further into him. His hand squeezed yours again as he turned his head to look up at the sky.

Your breathing was growing softer and eventually, you fell asleep right on his shoulder. With a soft chuckle, Ignis continued to hold you against him while uttering quietly to himself:

“I love you, (name).”

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amalia-uwu · 10 months ago

Text

🌻🧁 Amalia's Masterlist 🍓🦋

Don't follow me if you are not + 18. This is adult space.

If you have questions about me or fics then ask me but please don't use vulgar, blasphemous, bad language.

More under the cut!

Last edited October 6th 2024

Ao3 account -> Scribenda_Graeca

🪸✨🌊My OC / Persona 🌊✨🐚

Kinda a masterlist... My blog, just like me is a moving chaos.. I'll edit it again so...

“Undertale Fanfiction”

❁ A New Friend for Horrortale

❁ Sick for Underfell

❁ Thunderstorm for ameb-stuff

❁ Was It Worthy? Genocide route

❁ Truth for rainbowchibbit

❁ The Care That You Need for Echoing Prompts / Horrortale

❁ You Got What You Deserved for Echoing Prompts / Horrortale

❁ “Untitled drabble” in reblog for hyliantimelordin221

Based on Skerbbie's fanfiction Firsts and Seconds - Gift Fics @/Skerbbie

❁ CLOUDS

❁ INFIRMUM

❁ HANAHAKI

❁ INSEPARABLE

__________________________

❁ Sans X Reader: Fics and Drabbles

❁ Drabbles inspired by fudgelling-aways art @fudgelling-away (see the drabbles in reblog)

❁ “Guilt”

❁ “Gratus”

❁ “Gratitude”

❁ “Serena Nocte”

Gift fic inspired by fudgelling-away's comic:

❁ “Final Exams”

❁ “Exams Day” -> (sequel to finals exams or can be read independently)

Gift fics for fudgelling-away @fudgelling-away

❁ “Sunset”

❁ “Good Time” (smut)

❁ “You are the best!”

_________________

❁ “Price of love” (rottencrop)

❁ “Carry you in my embrace” -> (A Sans x Female Reader Drabble inspired by fudgelling-away's art/ask

❁ “SKÓLIX” (rottencrop)

-> Cover for my fanfiction SKÓLIX by fudgelling-away

❁ “Real” Sans x Y/N, inspired by leafwateraddict's comic

❁ “Happy Birthday Fudgie!” for fudgelling-away

❁ “It's gonna be okay” Sans x Self insert

❁ “Parallel Lines” Sans x Y/N

_____________________

“Five Nights at Freddy's / Sun and Moon Show”

❁ “Favor”

❁ “Not alone” (Sequel to “Favor”)

❁ “Αυτοθυσία” / “Aftothysía”

Other tags:

# Αμαλία γράφει (for fics)

# Τέχνη (for art)

# Αμαλία ζωγραφίζει (for art)

# Για μένα 💙, Δώρο, (gifts for me 💙)

Some OC's art/reference sheet

Some others OCs

#Undertale fanfiction #Αμαλία γράφει #Amalia writes #masterlist #Kinda #Enjoy 😘#Amalias masterlist #Αμαλία posts #sans x reader #five nights at freddy's #sun and moon show

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parasociallover · 2 years ago

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Artist Meet-Cute [Prompto x GN!Reader]

Prompto Argentum x GN!Reader

Synopsis: On a trip out to a newly opened botanical garden, Prompto spots someone he can’t keep his eyes off of. A meet-cute ensues.

A/N: Something simple to introduce myself with (Hi, by the way, fellow romantic escapism enjoyers). This is also kind of a warm-up to a full FFXVxOCs fic, so look forward to that. I know y’all are starving for content.

Sometimes, being Noctis’ best friend was hard. Of course, not nearly as hard as being the crown prince himself, and Prompto would never even think to compare their problems. The invisible eyes that Prompto felt on him whenever he was out with Noct were likely a mere fraction of what the prince went through on a daily basis, but he could nonetheless, still very much feel them. When he was with Noct, he became The Prince’s Best Friend, The Funny One, The Comic Relief. The modern day equivalent of court jester meant to soothe the sorrows of his betters. He knew that they would deny it until the sun went down, but he knew it to be true. He was content with that, most days.

But today, he simply wanted to be Prompto. Everyone else was tied up with work at The Citadel, leaving him to his own devices. So, thinking that it’d been a while since he’d gone out on a solo excursion, he set his sights on the newly opened botanical gardens with camera in hand and enough money to buy himself the most indulgently greasy diner food he could find on the way home. There was a certain comfort in boarding public transport, blending into the crowd as he made his way from his dinky little apartment towards the artsy side of town.

The crowds were low, as he’d waited a week or so after opening to make his way here. As he stepped foot onto the paved paths surrounded by bursting floral blooms, he took in a deep breath. Now, this was the kind of nature he could get behind; air conditioned and with no bugs to ruin his good time. He stepped along, taking the occasional picture, but mostly just strolling. The grounds were beautiful, yes, but they weren’t sparking the inspiration he thought they would.

The possibility of art block brewing on what was supposed his day to truly be himself was enough to cast rain clouds over his once good mood.

Plopping down gracelessly onto one of the benches placed opposite a particularly bright patch of hydrangea, he crossed his arms and tilted his head, glaring at the blooms as if they would deliver unto him some sort of artistic wisdom he was missing. The flowers, however, remained silent.

He didn’t know how long he’d spent glaring at the greenery, as his search for wisdom quickly trailed off into a venture into his own thoughts, which was never a good thing. Prompto was stopped from inevitable disassociation by a shape stepping into his line of sight. A person, who hadn’t noticed his staring contest with a bunch of flowers, was inspecting the hydrangea with an admiring eye. As Prompto blinked back into full consciousness, he was brought to stark awareness at the site of this person’s appearance.

Now, he prided himself on his aesthetic eye, it’s why photography appealed to him so much. So he could say, with utmost authority, that this person was unreasonably attractive. Honestly, who had the right to be looking so dang cute on a random Wednesday afternoon? No one. There was something about the way they regarded the flower with such quiet excitement, like it was just the prettiest thing they’d ever seen. It was sincere, and sweet in a way that made butterflies flutter in his stomach, as saccharine of a sentiment that was. He fumbled with his camera for a second, eager to capture the moment on film, when it finally occurred to him how insanely creepy of an action that would be without consent.

Ugh, but what was he gonna do? Ask a random beautiful stranger if he could take their portrait? And for what? Personal reasons, just so he could keep it and look at it like a mega creep? He could feel the anxiety well up in his chest, staring down at his feet while his fingers toyed with his camera nervously. Yeah, that would not go over so well. He resolved to simply sit there in shame until the Pretty Stranger went about their day, and he could just go find something else to take a picture of.

Letting out a sigh of relief as he heard the sound of moving feet, he glanced up again, only to choke on his spit as the Pretty Stranger sat down on the bench next to him, heaving their own sigh. He couldn’t stop himself from staring like an idiot, even when they looked up and caught his eye. They were even cuter up close, especially when their lips curled up in a self-deprecating smile.

“This place is gorgeous, but it sure is a lot of walking! Only halfway through, and it feels like I’ve walked about a mile.” They sighed, with a little laugh in their voice, that pleasant tone you take during small talk with strangers.

Fumbling for words, Prompto blurted out a quick ‘Haha, yeah!’ before clamping his mouth shut tightly. The Pretty Stranger took that as their cue to keep making conversation, gesturing to the camera Prompto was still clutching tightly.

“Are you taking pictures for something particular, or are you a photographer for fun?’ The Pretty Stranger asked, gentle curiosity in their eyes. A silence stretched awkwardly between them for a second, as Prompto caught up to the fact that yes, the attractive person was speaking to him and he should reply in order to not be rude.

“Oh, n-nothing specific! I just came ‘cause it’s, y’know, a big new attraction and you can’t go wrong with pictures of flowers, right?” He sputtered out quickly, trying to desperately fill the weird silence. The Pretty Stranger nodded as if his word vomit made any sense, looking back out at the hydrangea bush.

“That’s true”, they chimed, “Flowers are a pretty safe bet if you want something pleasant and pretty. They’ve got them arranged by color too, did you notice that?”

He had not.

“I’ve been snapping pics with my phone, but I bet they’re nowhere near as fancy as yours.” They flashed that self-deprecating grin again, and this time, Prompto rushed to reply.

“I haven’t actually taken any pictures yet! The flowers are nice and all, but they just weren’t…enough, y’know? Like, I need something to add a little spice to the composition.”

Once again, the Pretty Stranger nodded along, that same look of gentle curiosity, prompting him to continue his rambling. “I think Nature shots always need a little something more, like animals or people, because the best scenes are ones that really tell a story. You need living subjects, something to lock eyes with, that you can step into the mind of. That way, it goes beyond just eye-candy, it becomes something worth thinking about. It becomes art, and it sticks with you.”

Before he could even begin to feel self-conscious about info-dumping about his favorite thing with this random stranger, they were nodding along emphatically with his words, slapping their knee in excitement.

“Oh, dude, I totally get that! It’s like, even if it’s just a static shot, having a person there adds just enough to bring it life!”

“Yeah, yeah!” He said, too excited that his point had gotten through to even feel embarrassed by how eager he sounded. He and the Pretty Stranger went on that topic of conversation way longer than he’d talked about photography with any sort of willing participant in his life. It was clear that they weren’t a photographer as well, just an excitable patron of the arts. Still, even when he had to explain some concept or aspect of photography that they didn’t understand, he didn’t feel like he was holding them hostage with his interests. It felt like he was being listened to. Like, they were truly interested in what he had to say.

He was startled out of his blissful excitement by the loud speaker above them announcing that the garden would be closing in 15 minutes. Had they really been talking for that long? Prompto felt a hot flush of shame on his face, he’d really kept this person from enjoying their day, hadn’t he?

As he opened his mouth to apologize, the Pretty Stranger laughed.

“Oh man! I’m sorry I kept you for so long, man. You’ve got a way with words, though, you should be a photo lecturer or something!” They stood and held out their hand for him to take, which he did, thanking the cooler season for an excuse to wear his gloves so he didn’t ruin the moment with his sweaty hands. The two of them stood there for a second, hands clasped, before Prompto dropped the hold like he’d been burned, shoving his hands in his pocket.

The Pretty Stranger gestured back the way they came, the closest way out, and Prompto followed along on auto-pilot, eyes trained on the face of the most cute, sincere, angel he’d ever met. He knew he was the type to fall quickly, but this was an all time record. And it felt…different from his other crushes. There was no wall, no insurmountable river of self-doubt that he had to surmount. It was easy to talk to them. And maybe, he was feeling a little high off the fumes of that realization, which was why he blurted out, “Hey, are you doing anything after this?”

They were outside of the entrance now, having stepped out of the way of the doorway, and were idly walking towards the shopping street. The Pretty Stranger, seemingly content to walk beside him, shrugged.

“Other than to eat? Nope! I didn’t even plan this, to be honest. I just came by because it was new and free.” They laughed, and Prompto, giddy with the opportunity to not have to let them go just yet, laughed with them.

“Well, if you’re interested, I was gonna go get some particularly greasy diner food and I would love a little company.” He flashed them a boy-ish smile, hoping that the little bit of cuteness he knew he had would save him from too harsh a rejection. But, just as they had before, The Pretty Stranger nodded emphatically.

“That sounds pretty dang good! Lead the way, man.”

Like a puppy, he took their hand and began leading them towards his burger place of choice, practically reading off the menu to them as they made their way through half empty streets. Then, a thought occurred to him.

“Oh, my name is Prompto, by the way.”

#prompto x reader #prompto argentum x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert fic #reader insert fluff #forcing myself to go ahead and post this and stop worrying about how cringe this might be #i am cringe but i am free

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sageteapost · 5 months ago

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| Sweaters |

[ Noctis Lucis Caelum x M! Reader ]

CW + Tags: None, just fluff! A bit suggestive for a bit. (Established relationship. Male reader.) Summary: Your boyfriend has been wanting to cuddle with you all day. This time, however, he tries something different.

[(A/N): YEAHHH, something for the boys. This made my trans-masc heart so happy to write about. I love Noctis so much as well as the other boys, but there's so little stuff for the guys. Anyways, hope I cooked!]

"Damn, stop moving. I'm trying to cuddle you."

"Kinda hard to stay comfy when I'm being crushed, babe," you murmur into the large sweater Noctis stuffed you in with him. He thought it would be a fun idea to sleep together sharing a sweater.

On paper, it sounded great. Y'know, sharing a sweater with your boyfriend as you cuddled to sleep. Couple goals, right?

What you didn't count on was being crushed by your boyfriend from how tight he's holding you and the fact the sweater felt so suffocating. At least when you two cuddled together, you could spread out a bit and not feel like you're overheating.

Plus, every time you moved; you would unintentionally (or intentionally) wiggle against Noct. And that's a whole different can of worms.

Noct, who seemingly noticed your bashfulness, couldn't help but smirk a bit. "What's that, is my boyfriend embarrassed?" he teased softly, his pointer finger lightly tracing patterns along the skin of your arm. "We've been dating for, what, six months now?"

"Aw shut up babe," you reply with a small huff, though it had no malice. He chuckled softly, kissing your shoulder, settling his chin right there.

For a while, the two of you stayed that way. Mumbling about the day and other random topics that came to mind. Plus, it was a good way to unwind and send you both to dreamland.

And just as you were about to fall asleep, Noct quietly says, "..Hey babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I... still can't believe I get to call you mine. But I love you, so fucking much," he replies in that soft and vulnerable tone only you got to hear.

It was moments like these made you swoon for him in the first place. Despite all of the teases and jabs at you and each other, he felt so happy and safe around you. And it made you feel so happy to see him so open with you and your relationship.

With a gentle and loving smile, your lips grace his knuckles, a gesture that would bring him butterflies (no matter how he tried to deny it).

"I love you too, hun. More than you could ever imagine, don't you dare forget that."

A smile grew Noct's face, as he curls up closer to you like a cat seeking warmth. And soon, after some gentle kisses, the two of you fall asleep. Like peas in a pod.

...Honestly, this sweater idea wasn't so bad after all.

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ not requested #noctis caelum x reader #noctis lucis caelum x reader #noctis x reader #ffxv noctis #ffxv x reader #noctis lucis caelum x male reader #noctis x male reader #ffxv x male reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15

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thevanillerose · 3 months ago

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TRAINING | GLADIOLUS x READER | FFXV

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

“Hey, time to get up sleepy head!” “Mnn...” “C'mon princess, you'll have plenty time to doze later...” “Jes...just...one more minute...”

THWACK. “OW!”

You jolted up like you were on a spring, and quickly shoved his heavy boot away from your side. He hadn't kicked you hard, you were more irritated by the fact that he had pulled you out of such a nice dream. Riding a Chocobo through a field of fluffy white cotton. Ah...you could just...lay back down and...drift away again...

“Ah ah ah, you're not gonna slip that one by me. Come on-” A strong hand took you by the arm and hoisted you up before you had a chance to even open your eyes properly. Rubbing the sleep from them as you were sent stumbling forth and out of the tent flaps, you finally came to enough to turn and give him a good glare.

The man who woke you up was Gladiolus Amicitia- the trusted and loyal bodyguard for Prince Noctis. He stood tall in the sunlight...though he always stood tall, whatever the weather. Hard not to when you were pushing 6'6”. And if his height wasn't notable enough, his muscles certainly were. To say the guy worked out would be an understatement.

Amber eyes smirked back at you, and you scoffed, running a hand through your messy [H/C] hair so you could at least smooth it down. Yes, much like the Crown Prince himself, you were bad for sleeping in. However, Gladio hadn't even given you time to get ready, much less compose yourself. And you needed to. He was training you this morning...and training with him was really no joke.

“Remember what I taught you last time?” he walked over and slapped his palm down around your shoulder. You just looked up at him sourly. “I barely remember my own name right now.” He just laughed heartily. It was hard not to cheer up a bit when he did. His happy moments may not have been as infectious as Prompto's, but it was always nice to see such a tough man smile. Really, he wasn't so bad.

Gladio had been training you like this every morning for the past week while you camped out in Duscae, but it wasn't out of cruelty. If anything, it was the opposite.

You were more of a tactician than anything else, and sometimes you really felt tacked on to this party. Even being sent to accompany and protect Prince Noctis had been a last minute affair. Not that you were complaining...it was far better to be here than back in Insomnia.

You were still shaken by the news. And Noct...well...you tried not to ever talk about it with him.

Gladio only wanted you to feel like you were of more use, since you had told him you'd felt you weren't of any. He was looking out for you by doing this...as torturous as it could be having to wake up at the break of dawn and start exerting yourself. Regardless, you were grateful.

“C'mon princess, let's get going before the others wake up. You wanna be back in time for Ignis' famous breakfast, right?” Gladiolus attempted to spur you on with the promise of food, and yes, shamefully, it was enough to get you going. Letting him lead the way down off the camping plateau and toward the marshy plains, you jogged lightly after him, but soon picked up the pace enough to become level with the guy.

A little sweat was already gathering on your brow but you tried not to make a big deal of it. It would be true to say that part of you wanted to impress him. When it came to anything physical he was always the king, and you at least wanted to keep up in some respects.

Eventually you reached your destination, which was one of the fishing shacks arranged around the edges of the vast lake there. Coming to a stop by the mirror-esque water, you caught sight of yourself reflected within it. All hunched over with your hands on your knees like that and your hair strewn haphazardly around your face, you couldn't help grimacing.

So what? You were spending one-on-one time with an objectively attractive male. Who could really blame you for wanting to look presentable?

Quickly fixing yourself, you then turned and exhaled slowly, seeing that Gladio was already standing there ready and waiting to start the next phase of training. The run here was only meant as a warm up. Here was where the real tricky stuff started.

You called it 'tricky' because you really weren't a fighter. Sure, you could handle the daggers you carried well enough, but you were still distinctly lacking when it came to combat. Gladio was here to help you gain that sharp edge...to become more capable. You hoped.

“Let's pick up where we left off last time.” he cracked his knuckles, though it was for preparation, not intimidation. “You need to learn to become more aware of your surroundings. Half of combat is all about blocking. If you go crazy just trying to get in a hit anywhere you can, you'll not only tire yourself out, but you'll leave yourself completely open for a counterstrike.” This was all knowledge you could have inferred yourself, but you still listened to him intently as he carried on: “The key is timing. Knowing when to attack, and knowing when to shield yourself. Now-”

Suddenly, his fist swung. You gasped and stumbled back a step, quickly throwing up your arm in a clumsy fashion. Naturally he didn't plan on actually hitting you, but his knuckle still came close enough to give you a scare. Pulling back again, Gladio took another step towards you and laid his hand upon your shoulder once more, making sure you were steady. “See, now that's an issue. And it was only hand to hand too. You'll definitely struggle if you try to block a sword like that.”

Most certainly in the case of the one he carried. No innuendo intended.

“Right...okay...” you sighed heavily. A bout of weariness hit you again but you quickly shook your head to get rid of the sensation. Gladiolus didn't seem to notice, instead just carrying on with his lesson.

“Let me show you the best way of doing this. Take out your daggers for me.”

Doing as he asked, you placed them in his palm when he held it out expectantly. Lifting the weapons to his eyeline, Gladio then felt the blade of one between his thumb and forefinger, before humming and nodding.

“Yeah, it's strong enough alright.” “Strong enough for what?” Your innocently phrased question prompted a live demonstration from the man. And you didn't feel quite so innocent when he stood behind you and pressed up against your back.

It was in moments like these that you really noticed how small you were compared to him. You weren't actually that tiny for a girl, but you were practically a gnat in comparison to someone like Gladio. His strong and muscled arms looped around in front of your chest, though didn't wrap around you. Rather, he had only positioned himself in such a way so that he could take your hands in his and help guide the glinting blades. Even his hands alone seemed to engulf yours...

“See, if you cross them like this-” Gladio moved your limbs so that blade was against blade, forming something of an 'X' shape, “-it'll act as a makeshift shield for you. Blocking a two handed beast like this still isn't ideal, but it gives you an option if you don't have the time or speed to roll aside.”

As you stared up at the two intertwined blades, you could see the sun shining boldly through the gap. The heat from those golden rays beat down upon your already sweating face, and you squinted. Your vision started to blur, your knees wobbling.

Suddenly the sky was rolling around you. A mix of blues and greens shot through your vision, until you felt the middle of your back hit something firm. The sight before you was replaced by a sudden darkness, and your eyes fell heavy before closing...

Some time passed, yet for you it was an instant. Those same eyes of yours began to flicker, letting in little glimpses of far more filtered light, before eventually opening enough to let you see the canopy of leaves above. At your side, your palm ventured out to help push you up, gracing over a soft, cool fabric, set down against the slightly moist grass. Though you managed to urge yourself to sit, something quickly took hold of your shoulder.

You knew that motion anywhere.

Looking over, you could see Gladiolus sitting on the same navy blue blanket, his arm outstretched to hold you steady. His sharp amber eyes never left your weary visage for a second.

“Easy there...just take it slow.” he urged you cautiously, before gently letting his hand slip away when he was sure you were sitting fine. Blinking a few more times to clear away the last spots of drowsiness, you observed the gruff man with a furrowed brow.

“...What...what happened?” “You fainted.” he stated simply, turning his attention away from you momentarily to focus on the pot of food he was stirring, before looking back again. “It was my fault. I think I pushed you too much, too soon.” “No that's...that's what I wanted though...” you spoke drearily and shook your head in what felt like slow motion. Clearly you still weren't totally together after that ordeal, but at least you were in the shade.

Gladiolus must have caught you when you collapsed. Good thing he was standing right there, eh?

“Doesn't matter what you wanted, I should have seen it coming. Obviously you were already at your limit.” Gladiolus continued to scold himself while he spooned up some soup and motioned closer. His hand went to your lower back and he held the spoon before your lips. “Open up. Ignis made this for you.”

Usually you would have been internally freaking out at this point. Every time he touched you during training you always felt a bit of a spark anyway, but here he really was treating you like the 'princess' he affectionately called you (even though you were far from royalty). However, you were still so woozy that you merely did as he wanted with little reaction, opening your mouth and letting him feed you. It was delicious of course, as could be expected from the delicacy master himself- Ignis. Though a worrying thought came to mind as he helped you eat, and between your second and third spoonful you had to ask:

“-Did the other boys find out about this then?” “What, about you fainting?” Gladiolus smirked and shook his head. “Don't worry, I had a feeling you'd want to save face. I just told them you wanted to have breakfast down by the lake since it looked so nice. They didn't suspect a thing.”

Good. Relieved, you started to relax a little more. Your strength returned enough to let you finish the soup yourself, and once you had you felt magnanimously better. Finally, you were human again.

“That was awful. Dammit...why am I so weak?” you questioned curtly, and Gladiolus took his turn to frown. “[Y/N], you're not weak. Not even slightly. Do you think we could have come this far if you were?” He had a point. You were already well underway on your journey, and it wasn't like it had always been a piece of cake. Still... “I need to be stronger than this. I need to get stronger so I can protect the Prince...”

Yes. Maybe you did. But as Gladio looked at you, he didn't see a single thing he really wanted to change. At first he could admit that he had doubted how useful you would be as part of the Crownsguard. Yet over time he had come to see just how important you were to the team. You were incredibly smart, and quick thinking. You had a knack for knowing what to do even in the most baffling situations. Just as a good defence was as important as a good attack, it was also crucial to have that kind of clarity at your disposal.

Besides...that wasn't the only thing he had started to notice about you. You had many other notable assets too...and as you sat there in the mottled shade of the lakeside tree, he saw one of them very clearly. A gentle, tender smile had spread across your lips and in turn illuminated the rest of your features. Sometimes he doubted it was possible you could look any prettier, yet in that moment you perhaps looked the most beautiful he had ever seen you.

“Thank you, Gladio. For helping me so much. I promise I'll do better next time...” “Don't...don't worry about it.” Did he just stutter? Stumble over his words? Hell, he even rubbed the back of his neck like a sheepish schoolboy. Gladiolus quickly composed himself again though. Right now wasn't the right time for that. Right now he wasn't ready to reveal anything of that nature.

“You can take a day off tomorrow, and then we'll carry on after that.” he told you, to which you nodded affirmatively. “Sounds good.”

That was right. For the moment...he just had to focus.

In a way...he was training himself too.

#xreader #readerinsert #ffxv #finalfantasy #final fantasy 15 #finalfantasyxv #gladiolus #gladiolus x reader #gladiolus amicitia #writing #writingcommissions #romance #fluff

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zeroth-writes · 2 years ago

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Stay Away -Noctis Lucis Caelum-

masterlist | request

Prompt: Hello 😊, can I get a ffxv jealous noct x reader? seeing how he’s kind of reserved in his personality sometimes even with his friends, what would it take for him to confess to his crush if he saw someone hitting on them? Would his friends give him advice or push him in the right direction, or even set up cute situations for him to be in? & Can i get a Noctis x reader angst where his s/o’s best friend doesn’t care that he’s the prince and warns Noctis to stay away from them because they have known them longer, and has a crush on them aswell? Sometimes even deliberately tries to sabotage their relationship.

Pairing: Noctis Lucis Caelum x GN!Reader

Summary:

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Since these request are pretty similar, I decided to combine them.

In a way Noctis as always been self conscious about being the prince. Whenever meeting someone new, he fears they would only see him as royalty instead of the person he truly was.

That didn’t change with you.

During your first meeting, that constant negativity pierced into his brain while he watched as you conversate with a friend. Every time your friend left you alone, he wanted to take her place. He wished he was able to walk right up to you and strike a conversation, just like Gladio would do, yet his feet stayed in the same position.

He let out a long, deep sigh as someone else walked up to you. While he couldn’t hears the words being shared, he could see how your expression kept changing.

Once second your eyes are narrowed - possible at someone other than your friend standing near you, the next your chuckling while leaning in slightly to the hand resting on your shoulder.

The prince’s eyes narrow at the exchange, feeling a strong, and still growing, feeling of jealously. He wished he could have gone up to you and started a conversation with you instead.

Before he could tear his eyes away himself, someone smacked his shoulder - causing the prince to glare back only to find his shield standing behind him.

“Why don’t you just go up and talk to her?” Gladio teased, knowing how the young man is.

“Easy for you to say.” Noctis turned and rubbed his shoulder. “I can’t just walk up to a stranger and talk to them.”

A deep huff came from the taller man at the prince’s response. “You have trouble talking to Ignis, let alone a stranger. All you need is a wing-man.” Noctis rolled his eyes at his friends suggestion. “I’ll pass.”

Gladio shrugged his shoulders before wandering off towards a group of women standing by a table.

Noctis watched for a minute before turning his attention back to you. When he did he noticed your once accepting demeanor has changed to annoyance and somewhat disgust. The man in front of you went from attempting to charm you, to creeping you out.

The prince stood torn.

He wished to help you get away from the increasingly horrid situation, yet he failed to gain the nerve to do so.

Till he saw your attempt to get away fail as the man forcible grab your bicep and pull you once again closer to him.

Noctis slammed his glass down and stomped his way over to you.

"Let them go."

His voice came out quieter than he anticipated, still it caught the attention of both you and the man next to you. He let go of you and turned his attention towards Noctis. "What did you say?"

For a moment, Noctis considered calling out for back-up in hopes to scare him away. Yet he looked towards Gladio and saw a strong look of encouragement.

After regaining his confidence, Notis turned his attention back to the man previously bothering you and give him a smirk.

♡♡♡♡♡

As his opponent walked away with an embarrassed and defeated look on his face, Noctis let out a sigh of relief before the sound of cheer filled his ears.

During his practically one-side exchange, he failed to notice the small crowd gathering around him. With his attention towards the crowd, he didn’t notice you beside him - until you spoke up.

“Noctis, right?” The prince jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice.

“Yes?” He shuddered out a response.

A slight chuckle left your lips. “I just wanted to thank you for earlier. The guy was being a huge dick and I honestly didn’t even know how to get rid of him.”

Noctis laughed at your words. The pair of you stood in the same spot for what felt like hours talked.

As you continued to talked he felt all the nerves about talking to you fade away until there was none left.

Sadly, it wasn’t long after that your friend came back and quickly ushered you towards the exit, but not before Noctis could get your number. Which he text almost instantly.

♡♡♡♡♡

Over the next few days you and Noctis communicated constantly. Whether it was texting, calling or even a few video chats - that he may or may not have fallen asleep during.

The conversations all led to Noctis gaining the nerve to ask you out which you gladly accepted.

For the next few months Noctis thought everything was going great. Along with his normal daily activities with his princely duties and hanging with his friends - he still made time to speak with you, and loved every second he was with you.

That was until one of your friend suddenly showed up at the Citadel one day demanded to speak to Noctis.

He thought he was being friendly when he invited her inside and offered her some tea, yet quickly regretted his decision the moment she started speaking.

“I need you to stay away from Y/n.” Her words were firm.

Noctis momentarily choked on his drink. “What?”

His eyes widen as her words fully process within his mind. He tried to think if he’s ever done anything against your friend, yet his memory came up blank.

A part of Noctis believed it could be a prank in an attempt to get back at him. Or maybe even a test - a way to prove how much he actually cares for you and wants to be with you.

However that second theory quickly got shut down the more your friend spoke

“You’re not good for them. I’ve known them longer than you and they’ve changed. For the worst, and It started once they first met you.”

“But their happy with me.”

Noctis’ words were laced with the hurt he felt, yet the woman across from him only laughed

“Are they? You’re never around. Do you know how many night they spent with me. Do you even know how many times they’ve call me because they needed someone, and you were too busy. I’m the one they need, not you.”

Noctis sat studded. He watched as your friend got up and walked towards the exit. He wanted to yell out to her. Tell her how wrong she is, but he couldn’t.

His mind began to wander how this all started with her. Did she suddenly think he was no good for you?

He then remember all the negative comment she made about him. How he should have dressed up for the double date. That fishing isn’t a good idea for a date. Even bringing up all the mistakes he made.

The time your meal came out wrong when he was sure he order it properly, your anniversary reservation never made when he set himself constant reminders not to forget.

As he sat alone, Noctis wandered if she was right.

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