#cidolfus telamon/reader

[robo-writing]

A Commander and His Second

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s handsome, unfairly so.

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

Oh no.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck me, this is seriously a problem.

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

His lips greet your skin tenderly, a gentle caress.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is?”

“Not this, that’s for sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You know me so well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cid, Cid, Cid—“

“Mm, I know love, I know, fuck—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More, more—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gods, your pussy is divine—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another silence.

“Cid?” You ask.

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

“I can’t feel my fucking legs.”

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

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

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Final Fantasy Boys || Type’s Of Kisses ||

A/n: Look I just wanted to write something with my favorite final Fantasy Boys. Let me know if you have a character you’d like to see.

Dizzy Kiss:

When you spin in circles and then try to kiss your partner.

::Cloud Strife::

Watching you spin in circles, Cloud wasn’t sure if he should be amused or concerned. He didn’t want you to hurt yourself yet you looked so happy doing it. Once you stopped your spinning, you stumbled for a moment.

Your eyes glossy as they tried to focus, looking for the tall blond.

“Cloud?”

“I’m right here.”

Following his voice, you nearly tripped falling into his arms as a giggle escaped your lips as you stood on your toes. Cloud didn’t get a chance to respond due to you finally kissing him. Once you broke the kiss you pressed face into his chest. “I have a headache now.”

Sighing, Cloud easily lifted you on his arms to carry you off to the shared room. “You could have just kiss me, you didn’t need to go through the theatrics.”

“Hmp.”

::Clive Rosfield::

“Love please be careful.”

Clive took a hesitant step forward, he had no clue what brought this on. He was trying to figure out while you would do something like this until he heard Cid chuckling.

“Did you put them up to this?”

“Was just a harmless little bet…see they’re fine.” Cid nodded his head both men turned their attention to where you stopped spinning. Stumbling forward you nearly fell on your ass as Clive caught you in his arms, a little giggle escaping your lips.

“Are you alright love?”

Nodding your head you beamed up at the man as you gave him a quick kiss. “Much better now that I can kiss you.”

Shaking his head, Clive helped you to your feet as he bent down to give you another kiss. “I will do anything to make you feel better love.”

Scoffing, Cid rolled his eyes as he turned away from you both. He rather not stick around for whatever was about to happen next.

+•+

Bambi Kiss:

When you lick your partner's cheek.

::Cidolfus Telamon::

“Cid? Can I try something?”

Putting down his pen, Cid flexed his fingers as he gave you a grin. “You can try anything on me love.”

Scoffing, your cheeks burned for a moment as you quickly adverted your gaze. “God you’re such a pervert.”

“You weren’t sayin that when you were moaning on my desk.”

Cheeks still burning you going to give him a sweet kiss, something nice but now. Shaking your head you sauntered over to the man only to lick his cheek.

“Hey!”

Humming you smiled clasping your hands behind your back. “It’s a Bambi kiss! It means I love you.”

Wiping his cheek, Cid pushed away from his desk. His eyes darkening as he made his way towards you, giving you a grin. “Not very fair you getting left out now is it love.”

“Cid no!”

A squeal escaped your lips feeling his tongue against your cheek. “Ugh.”

::Cid Highwind::

Cid loved it when you fell asleep on his lap, it felt good, felt nice. He knew he was lucky to have you in his life, he next expected to get this chance at happiness.

Biting back his own yawn, he let his fingers run down your back as you started to stir awake. Blinking a few times you then gave the man a sleepy smile, your hand reaching up to run across his cheek.

“Hello sleeping beauty.”

Giving you a wink, a light scoff escaped your lips as you sat up. “Hmp.”

“What are you gonna-.” Though his voice was cut off feeling you run your tongue against his cheek, once down you then settled back into his arms.

“What the hell was that?”

Shrugging your shoulders you nuzzled into his chest more. “A Bambi kiss.”

+•+

Tiger Kiss:

When you jump on your partner's back and surprise them with a kiss.

::Vincent Valentine::

Vincent sensed you miles away, it was cute with you trying to be sneaky and all. He would honestly do anything to just see you happy though he stumbled forward as you jumped upon his back. Turning his head a small smile formed on his lips only to feel your own against his.

Returning the kiss, he couldn’t help but chuckle as you nuzzled your cheek against his own. “You are getting better.”

Sighing, you tightened your hood against his neck as you let your cheek rest against his own. “That’s sweet of you to say Vincent but I know I need more work.” You muttered.

“Nonsense, I did enjoy the kiss by the way.” He muttered glancing up at you.

Grinning you gave his cheek a quick kiss. “Then I will happily give you more!”

“I will be ready.”

::Noctis Lucis Caelum::

It was a normal day, Gladiolus, Ignis and Prompto had decided to visit you and Noctis since the Honeymoon was over. It was good seeing his three companions again though if Noctis were to be honest he would much rather spend another night in your arms then work.

The three men were rather distracted, Noctis engaging in a deep conversation with Gladiolus and Ignis. It was Prompto that noticed you. Your much smaller form darting to each column in the room.

“Uh guys….”

“Not now Prompto!”Gladiolus waved him off as you drew closer and closer.

“But.”

Though his eyes went wide as you launched your body at your husbands back. Noctis almost collapsing as Ignis stopped his fall.

Giggles were escaping your lips as your arms wove around his neck. Kissing him, you felt him return the kiss,his beard tickling your skin.

“Surprise.”

Letting out a soft sigh, Noctis glanced up at you. Your smile was infectious, he found himself unable to pull away from your gaze. “It was a lovely surprise, I can not wait for more.” He muttered grasping your hand gently kissing it a small kiss.

Cheeks burning, you sighed closing your eyes slumping against his back. “Then I will be happy to keep this up my King.”

“Then I am I lucky man.”

[freyito]

"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴄʟɪᴠᴇ ʀᴏꜱꜰɪᴇʟᴅ, ᴄɪᴅᴏʟꜰᴜꜱ ᴛᴇʟᴀᴍᴏɴ, ʜᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴜᴘᴋᴀ

✭ pairing(s): clive rosfield, cid(olfus) telamon, hugo kupka (seperate) x gn reader

✩ inspo: feel like shit need my head between someones boobs rn

✩ in which: he gets to find comfort in your chest, so why don't you give it a try?

✧ a/n: i wanted to add jill to this SOOO BAD but i fear it'd seem sleazy... sigh... also i kinda Want kupka... i dunno. i could make that man reevaluate his sexuality

✦ taglist: @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs, lots of boob talk. if it wasnt obvious, this ones kinda longwinded :P, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.4k

⎯ Clive Rosfield

CLIVE tends to be a bit awkward. It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, if you point out that he’s so much as a centimeter close, he flusters. Part of it is stubbornness, that he doesn’t deserve such tenderness when his work isn’t nearly halfway done. He deprives himself of your touch simply because why would he deserve it? Those kinds of gentle acts and lingering touches are wasted on a man like him. The other part is because he’s… Clive. Thirty Three and he still blushes like a boy, even if you hold hands, or so much as look at him in a slightly flirtatious manner. Despite all this, however, there is one thing he allows himself. On the very rare occasion that he allows himself to rest, he quite enjoys laying on your chest. It’s the steady beat of your heart and the rise and fall of your chest that truly lulls him to sleep. He finds himself lost without it.

While his reasoning is quite adorable, when you start thinking about how… well endowed he is, yours isn’t quite as pure. Who can blame you though? An outlaw in your hands, body sculpted and refined over the years. You ought to give that rack attention or else all is for naught. So, of course you hatch your plan. You’d hate to catch Clive in one of his most vulnerable moments, what if he never let you get close again? You lay in wait, passing the time by pacing around his room. He had sent a Stolas earlier, with good tidings. He would be back soon, and that he would at least have one day of off time to spare. Such wonderful news, it practically made you skip around the room as you waited.

And when he finally opens the doors to his chamber, shucking off his sheath and blade from his shoulder, you’re all too eager to pounce. He barely has time to process the fact that you’re in the room before you practically jump at him, face landing in his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze, letting out a sigh of contentment to finally have your head between these two majestic peaks. You stay like that for a minute or more, head in the clouds. Clive is horrifyingly still. When you finally look up at him to acknowledge him, a mix of horror, confusion, embarrassment, and levity flashes across his face. He doesn’t know if you meant to do that (oh, you full well did), or if it was a horrifying mistake. One that you took great enjoyment in. Slowly, he gives in, with your cheek pressed against his chest. He finally wrapped his arms around you with a sigh, muttering an ‘I missed you too, my love.’

⎯ Cidolfus Telamon

Oh, your sweet and charming CID. Gentle, yet rough in all the right ways, unabashed with how much he loves you and what he loves about you (everything). That being said, behind closed doors his touches grow more bolder. Aged as he is, he’s not one to curb his wants or needs. In between his little jaunts, he always spares you a kiss, a little touch here and there. And if he’s lucky, he enjoys just holding you. Allowing himself to just be. For all his jokes and remarks, he’s quite the soft man. Doesn’t mean he won’t get a kick out of teasing you, though. Kissing your cheek, down to your jaw, to your neck, past the collarbone– “Oh, do you mind if I go lower, love?”, yet he never does. He simply enjoys feeling your pulse jump, skip, and stutter against his lips.

Well, you aren’t afraid to go lower, that’s certain. The problem is how you’d find a way without him reading into your tricks. Any little scheme you were up to was quickly caught and snuffed out, and returned with mischief tenfold. Or, if he was in a no-nonsense mood, he’d set you out on errands. Fill up your schedule so you couldn’t scheme anymore. Even for a silly little kiss. What a pain in the ass, You’d be better off just asking him, but then again, where’s the fun in that? Might as well do it when you can, when he’s locked away in his quarters. It’s not like he minds when you’re there, anyways, so there would be nothing out of the ordinary. It was a matter of how you’d be able to slip into his lap and finally get him to trip over himself.

On a rainy evening, Cid had taken it upon himself to get busy. Not the fun kind, where he showers you in kisses, his hands wandering everywhere. No, the real kind of busy, where he could only give you nods and grunts as a form of acknowledgement. You didn’t want to interrupt his work, but you also had nothing else to do aside from sweep around the Hideaway– a never-ending task. And, to be honest, you were starting to get sick of the lack of attention. You stalk over with a cocky smirk on your face, your hands sliding over his shoulders. You give him no time to protest, kicking the leg of his chair and sweeping it away so you have just enough space to sit on his lap. All he can stammer out is a simple “love–”, before you pressed your cheek to his left breast. Ah, this life is worth living. You can hear his heart pick up for just a second, while you no doubt look a little blissed out, if not pervy. With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he places a large hand on your hip. For the next couple of hours, you sit in his lap, pampered like a cat with your head against his chest, too stubborn to move. Founder, if you left his bosom, it’d truly be the death of all things beautiful.

⎯ Hugo Kupka

You’ve really won the lottery with HUGO. A big strong man, tall and broad, and an excellent rack to match. His heart was about as big as his boobs, and Founder, how he doted upon you. He could berate an entire room of councilmen, and turn around and be just so sweet on you. Big and brutish he may be, but he’s as sweet as a babe in your arms. When he wants to be, at least. Most of the time he’s as fierce as a lion, needy and ready to get his fill. Yet there are some times where he’s as docile as a sheep, comfortable to lounge about with you. Play with your hair, maybe indulge in a little dance or two. Not that he’s any good at it. But it doesn’t matter, does it?

One of his favorite things seems to be pulling you in for an excessively long (and tight) hug when he’s sick of all the dribble he’s had to hear from the political figures. His mind is brighter when it comes to fighting, and sometimes it makes his head spin. Not that he can’t keep up, of course. Either way, you are just lucky enough to be tit-height, while he is blissfully unaware of your perversion. Who can blame you, though? He pulls you right in, and you aren’t going to push away. You do your best to make sure your mind doesn’t stray too far, worried that he may catch on and not afford you such kindness anymore. He wouldn’t, regardless, but… something about him knowing, you have no idea how he’d react.

Regardless, you find your way to enjoy such moments as much as you can. When you two lay down, you lay down on top of him, which he is all too happy about. Sitting in his lap, acting tired so you get a chance to rest your head against his chest, and much more silly things that would make you look like a spoiled royal to the guard, despite being a near opposite. Spoiled, yes. But not in the way you’re feigning fear or illness just to steal Hugo away from his guard and what not. He enables you, even if he doesn’t know it, and you just can’t get enough. His body hardened by his own ways, and yet his tits are just so soft. The world is a cruel mistress, not allowing you or anyone else a moment of proper rest, no matter how blessed they were. So why not enjoy the simple things?

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[letaliabane]

Back in my happy place 💕 my photos

[snakegorl212006]

Inspired by the latest FF16 request, the reader from our world gets their secret reviled via their journal which had old polaroid photos of their latest trip to New York before getting isekai by truck-kun.

Side Note: Your work always makes my day, thank you. Also you are amazing.

------------Clive + Jill-------------

-Clive and jill would gosp about it to themself -like if there S/o tells them that there from another world, they would gosp about what questions they should ask -Jill is less surprise then Clive for you abilities seemed odd -none of them would ever bring up the fact that you left your diary open and they just happen to find it laying around for anyone to see -your secret is safe with them

---------Joshua + Jote-----------

-jote would want to confront you about it but she doesn't want you not to trust her after peaking in your book when cleaning 

-....yeah Joshua thought your diary was an actual book with a weird ending. Until he saw a page about himself 

Joshua if he got caught:

-he would never admit he read it all even if you told them the truth 

-he just nods his head and acts surprise about it all

-they wouldn't care that you’re from another world but would feel bad about you and how there’s a little to no chance of returning home

-they hope you find a home with them 

------------Cid---------------

-would genuinely feel guilty for reading a snippet of your journal -he would admit that he saw what you wrote about your past -he feels horrible that you were taken away just like that -by a truck,he probably thinks it some beast -other then that he doesn't care that much about his lover being from another world -the hideaway is full of outcast so you just fit right in

S/o: hey cid.. I’m not from this world

Cid:

------------Benedikta----------------

-she wants to feel angry that you never told her about this -but she also feels angry that your home was strip away from you just like that -half is genuine and half is just pity -she would confront you about what was written and would ask why you never said anything -it would hurt her a lot if you hide this part of your life from her but i don’t think she would be salty about it -she has stuff from her past she would hide from you too coughpast relationships cough -I don’t think she would get rid of your journal but would prefer if you didn’t hide anything important from her

--------------Dion + Terence------------

-would NEVER tell you that they took a peak in your book -but they would also feel bad that you were taken out like that -once you tell them where you’re from, they would ask a bunch of questions -”who’s truck-kun?” -”(name of place your from) sound like a nice place” -”what’s a ‘florida man’” -” why is the sound of a clock a ‘app’” -would encourage you keep this secret as well -Terence would make sure your journal is safe and tuck away -Dion would buy you a locket for your book -both would ask you to tell them stories about your home land

--------Barnabas +Sleipnir---------------

-oh they knew from the beginning -Barnabas would find out everything about you big or small -Sleipnir would think it laughable that you would hide this from them -but they would wait for you to come clean first -sure you’re from another world big deal but that might come with a advantage -lets say the world of FF16 was the videogame we all love -if Barnabas finds out about you playing 16 , he would utilize you so his plans can succeed -you could see the future after all

---------Hugo-----------

-would look but wouldn't care to bring it up -it’s your choice if you wish to discuss your origins and at this point it doesn't matter -he loves you and would go to hell and back for you -you're from another world? Ok that’s nice what do you want for dinner -I just don’t see him caring that much -it doesn't change the way he sees you in fact it just amplifies your uniqueness

[thinkingotherwise]

He got me bad bad.

By The Stream

Cidolfus Telamon x reader

The sun was high in the sky and you bathed in its warm rays whenever they peaked through the woods. You were walking across the nearby forest to the Hideaway, which was honestly a little far as it was in the middle of desert-like terrain.

The sound of the water brought you closer to the river that you knew well enough. Anytime you found yourself in the nearby area you visited the river as well. It brought you a moment of comfort and relief. The water was always clear and calm and it felt great to be able to dip in it, especially during mid-day when the sun brought a pleasant warm.

After taking off most of your clothes, leaving only the underwear on, you slowly stepped into the stream. Your things lay on the edge just far enough not to let the water touch them. But you didn't get rid of everything keeping a short sword that was usually strapped to your calf in its place as a precaution. It wasn't needed during all the previous times you frequented the river but you were never too careful.

The river moved around you as you let it embrace your dirty body. You gathered water in your palms before pouring over parts of your skin to clean the sweat from all your marching and fighting Relaxing you let your body soak, feeling more at ease by the minute, yet your hearing stayed sensitized to anyone approaching. When you didn't catch anything in your nearby area you decided to dip your head in the stream to clean your hair and face as well.

Head deep under the water you hold your breath as hands move to your face and rub on it and then move to brush through your hair. A sudden sound of a branch breaking makes you alert. It wasn't too loud as your sense of hearing was dulled because of the river but you didn't take it lightly and your hand wrapped around the handle of your short sword.

Your head quickly emerged from the water and you wiped your eyes with your free hand before gazing around you. The first thing you noticed was the lack of your things in your previous place making your grip on the weapon tighten. Next, your gaze moved slightly further and you saw the trail of smoke before meeting the all-too-familiar figure of Cid sitting under the tree.

An irritated sight left your mouth and you let the weapon fall to your side. Your steps lead you through the stream until you stopped in his view. "Cid, give me my clothes back!" Your voice echoed through the calm woods. A small smirk adorned his face as he puffed out the smoke from his cigarette and looked in your direction. "No idea what you mean." He eyed you lazily trying to catch the sight of as much of your body as he could with you standing in the water. "I just came here for a little smoke." You furrowed your brows looking at him unimpressed. "Mhm." You hummed and your gaze moved around until it stoped at the small pile of clothes. "Then what is it on your left?" His gaze was still stuck on you, not really listening to what you just said. "Huh?"

A sigh left your body and you raised your hand to point beside him. "Your left." "Oh, would you look at that? Looks familiar." He voiced as his eyes finally moved from you to look at the clothes he had taken from where you placed them, and kept them by himself. "It definitely does." You said crossing your arms on your chest. "Well then don't let me keep it away from you, you can come and get it." Cid's hand moved gesturing for you to approach him. He didn't really believe that you'd listen to him, but you did, slowly stepping out of the water.

He was surprised to see more and more of your almost naked body the closer you got to him. His mouth opened involuntarily at the sight and his cigarette fell from his lips. He tried to catch it only making it burn his hand and he hissed putting it out on the ground. You stopped beside him and reached for your clothes but when you looked at him you saw his wide eyes staring at you. His gaze was glued to your wet form and the water slowly dripping down your body.

"Oh, sweet Eikons." He breathed totally enchanted by you. His grin grew and his eyes darkened at the seductive display in front of him. "Feels like I'm dreaming." He added sitting up and leaning closer towards you. You huffed at him with a slight chuckle and your hand connected with his face to push him lightly away. "Sod off." You commented teasingly and before your palm left his head he grabbed your wrist.

His fingers caressed your skin once, twice and then he brought it closer to him to place a soft peck at the tip of your fingers. "So hot." Cid muttered against your digits making you freeze as your free hand grabbed your clothes. You tried to hide the full effect he had on you and so you replied with a growing smirk. "Then take a dip it'll cool you." You saw the corner of his lips going up and the next second he pulled on your arm making you fall into his lap. Your wet body pressed against his clothes and his hand sneaked around you landing on your back and moving slowly. "No thanks, I prefer to keep the hottness by having you by my side."

[bloodrelationsofheavenandearth]

hold my hand (as long as you want to)

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | desc; how does it feel to hold a hand, one that fits as if it were meant to do so with your own?

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | pairings; barnabas tharmr : clive rosfield : benedikta harman : cidolfus telamon : dion lesage : joshua rosfield : jill warrick : hugo kupka -> x gn!reader

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | mlist

holding hands with clive is a bit awkward- the first few times, especially. your hands will bump together, fingers half mangled and mashed together; the first few times are those for trying. his hands are warm, always. warm from the heat of the fire they produce, warm from his own nerves that heat his palms and make his skin perspire, warm from nervous tendencies where he wrings his hands together or against his clothes; they are warm, but earnest, as is clive himself, to be held just as earnestly.

when holding hands with benedikta, beware; she is always thinking on ways to pull you in closer. scheming away, thinking of an advantage to seek out further contact with the skin of her beloved. her hands are calloused along her palms from long years of swordplay, though they are long from loosing their softness. typically she prefers to link just a few fingers together- perhaps just pinkies- and progress her way to pressing your palms together, arms knocking together if walking and body creeping closer if simply sat or layed together.

joshua’s hands are softer than one might expect; perhaps even after so many years, certain self care habits are engrained, perhaps it’s his preference in not using a blade perhaps it’s just something so.. joshua, that it just is. his fingers are long and slender, like one might picture of a pianist, slight calluses formed on his thumb and the heel of his palm juxtapose the other parts of his hands. holding hands with joshua is like a new spring- a rebirth for your emotions and his, life anew, peace, every time you hold his hand. the feeling of home.

as much of a titan of a man hugo is, his hands are surprising in their dexterity. large fingers and even larger hands work tirelessly, work until his hands are practically dust so that they may curl around your fingers and your hands. all he wants is their reciprocal touch, their wandering over his- simply holding, admiring the security each lover brings to the other through simple touches. and he does, really does try, to convey the cadence of his admiration through the touch of his hands to your own- caressing your palms, rough fingers dragging over knuckles and lips ghosting over fingertips.. sometimes simple adoration is all he needs.

the feeling of his hands is a conundrum- dion’s hands both provide shelter in their adoration and cause calamity in their overwhelming sweetness. worn but well cared for, his hands are those of a warrior, blemished yet soft and dexterous while while still remaining strong. his thumb is somehow always dragging over your palm- slowly and in small circles when calm, backwards and forwards over your knuckles when sad, gripped a smidge too tight in anxious moments.. his hands, ones that will always seek to cradle, will always seek your hands out.

though his hands are clumsy and calloused, barnabas will never reject the offer to hold your hand. call him greedy, he’s perfectly fine with the acceptance of such a title, just please keep your hands pressed into his. let him feel your fingers tracing the backs of his palms, the dull thrum of your pulse in your fingertips and the one more steady at the junction of your wrist. let him sink into his subconscious, let him feel you, feel how real you are and how steady your presence is in front of him. please stay close to him, let him have this.

upon first thought, holding hands with jill would not ever lack sincerity- she has such honesty that she wears like a suit of armour, such sincerity that breaks through the crack of every falsehood that ever has been, is or will be. holding jill’s hand is like the first night sleeping on clean linen, like the reprieve of being rebuilt with cool air after standing outside in the summer heat to melt, like dandelion fuzz in the wind or the satisfaction one feels upon returning home after a long trip away. holding hands with jill is kisses to knuckles in quiet moments and whispered confessions in moments of twilight wakefulness.

scars, burns and other marks in every shape and size may litter the skin of his hands and arms- his entire body really- but cid’s hands, mighty as they are and have ever been, will always be tender upon the first contact with yours. the faded and fresh scars on his hands, from scrap ups as a younger man and years of continuous use of a blade make his skin rough and raised, not at all smooth but with its own story to tell. each scar, each burn and old battle wound is worn with pride- he will tell you the story of each and ever one (no matter how silly some may be, believe me some are), with an arm around your waist and one hand holding yours, mapping out the stories of the marks on his skin.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | notes; first post done weeeeee!! :D (mayb i’m jus thirsty for content that this was my first one too) i might do more of this same thing for dif fandoms depending on how i feel

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ hiebies 2023 ©

[drabblesandimagines]

Cidolfus x fem reader fluff with either sick day or opposites attract 👻🐕

Also just wanted to say your fics are amazing and I'm basically stalking your account almost every day now. With you being one of the only ones making fluffy content for my favourite boys, please keep going. Lots of love, and you deserve all the followers ❤️.

Thank you, lovely! I hope you enjoy <3 Petal Cidolfus Telamon x female (Branded) reader

You’re too hot – a particularly odd sensation as you struggle to recall the last time when you’d felt anything but cold. Spending so many nights sleeping in a drafty chocobo barn had left a permanent chill in your bones.

There’d been a heavy storm a day or so ago when you were on the road to the market – your master took shelter in the carriage and had left you shivering outside on the saturated ground, shackled to one of the large wheels for good measure.

You had made it to Northreach somehow, but hardly the picture of a healthy Bearer who would make good coin. A chesty cough, pale skin, unable to keep focus. Your master was in a foul mood – there hadn’t been an ounce of interest in you at the auction and he was loathed to drag you all the way back without anything to show for it. The market had shut for the evening and so he had moved to the outskirts the opposite side of the town – the mothercrystal of Orinflamme shining in the distance, your arms shackled above your head once more on the carriage’s great wheel in the hopes of flogging you to traders making their way in and out of the town in the early evening.

You no longer had the strength to keep your head held up, your mind fuzzy, so it’s not a surprise that you don’t hear the approaching footsteps until a new, deep voice booms from a few metres away.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

“You look like a man who appreciates a good deal.” Your master chuckles. “Got a Bearer for sale.”

There’s a gloriously cool, gloved hand placed upon your forehead for what turns out to be too short a moment before it is removed.

“Oh, petal.” A velvety voice tuts sympathetically at you in a murmur – too low for your master’s ears. “She’s burning up with a fever.”

“These Branded always run hot,” is his scoffed response. “She’s good stock, mind. Only a little bit of stiffness about her.” He grabs a fistful of your hair in a harsh grip and yanks your head up, and you blearily take in the stranger who is crouched in front of you.

He reminds you of a lord the way he is dressed - his shirt somewhat open with a large collar, two sword hilts jutting out from his hip, clean shaven and looking remarkably unimpressed at the sight before him. “And you really think you’re going to be able to sell her in this condition?”

“If you’re not interested, I kindly ask you to fuck off.” He shoves your head forward to emphasise his point as he relinquishes the grip on your hair.

“Now, now, no need to be rude - I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.” The stranger gets back up to his feet. “Why are you selling her?”

“Honestly, I could buy a new Branded that won’t give me any lip for farming work. I’m too old for that.”

“Oh, she’s spirited, is she?”

“That’s a word for it. So, are you interested?”

“Hm.” The man reaches for the gil pouch by his side, as if to check its weight. “What’s the price?”

“10,000 gil.”

He whistles. “For a sick, stubborn Bearer?”

“She’s not sick. And I’m sure a young gentleman like yourself would be able to knock the stubbornness out of her. I paid 15,000 for her originally – it’s a bargain.”

If your head wasn’t pounding, your mouth completely dry, you would’ve had something to say about being described as a bargain… but all your energy is focused on breathing.

“Fine.” The mysterious man agrees, pulling off one of his leather gloves and offering his hand.

Your master grabs hold of it eagerly, beaming. “Pleasure doing busi…” But the sentence is cut off as sparks of lightning crackle in the air, blue bolts shooting from the stranger’s hand and up your master’s arm before sparking all over his body.

Your master grunts, drops to the ground, twitching, eyes wide open in your direction.

He’s alive, breathing, but he won’t be getting up again anytime soon.

The mysterious man puts his glove back on and, using his leather boot, gently rolls your master over. He bends down and grabs a bundle of keys that had been attached to his belt before crouching down in front of you once more. You wonder if you’re next.

You tense as a gentle hand cups your cheek, bracing yourself for pain, but it only tilts your head up to meet his eyes. He smiles – sympathetic and kind. “Hello, petal. Name’s Cid. I’d ask you yours, but something tells me you’re not up for much talking right now. I’m going to get you out of these shackles and we’ll find somewhere comfy to rest up for the night. You’re safe with me – you have my word.”

He removes his hand and you manage to keep your head upright, a little in disbelief as he places the key in the lock of one of the shackles and undoes the mechanism, careful to lay your arm down in your lap before repeating the action with the other.

“There we go. I’m going to pick you up now, petal. You just rest.”

He places an arm around your back, another under your knees and gets to his feet with a slight grunt, mumbling about his own knees. The upward motion seems too much to bear, however, and unconsciousness takes over.

--

Isabelle raises an eyebrow at the sight of Cid at her door, you cradled against his chest. She puts her hands on her hips and tuts.

“Cid, it’s not bring your own.”

“Not what it looks like.” He lifts you up, causing your head to lull back and reveal the Brand on your cheek. “Petal’s not well. Any chance of a bed for the evening and we’ll be out of your hair after dawn?”

“Of course.” Isabelle steps back, widening the door to permit Cid entry. “What happened?”

“Some git trying to sell her on the outskirts. He’s taking a little nap. Poor thing���s absolutely frozen.”

“Did anyone see?”

Cid shakes his head. “No. I’d be surprised if he even remembers.”

“Girls,” the Dame calls to a couple of the women hanging by the door – Cid isn’t a stranger to partaking in the delights the Veil has to offer, after all. “Prepare a fire in Cid’s usual room. Extra blankets.”

Cid nods in thanks, heading towards the staircase to a room he knows well.

--

You don’t know what’s real or what is a dream over the next few hours. Fleeting moments of consciousness - a cold compress against your forehead, a rough voice coaxing you to drink something that feels soothing on your throat and warming in your stomach.

You wake up feeling… comfortable? It’s an odd sensation. What would you be on that’s so soft? You open your eyes, confused at the fact that you’re covered in a soft knitted blanket. The room is strange – a bed, a chair and a man standing over the fireplace, rousing the flames higher with a fire poker.

He turns and his eyes widen as he sees you awake and you panic and begin fumbling with the blanket, stuttering out an apology as you try to get up. How did you end up in a bed of all things?

“Easy now,” he holds up his hands in surrender as he takes a cautious step forward. “I meant what I said – you’re safe with me.”

You’ve just managed to disentangle yourself from the blankets, getting up on legs that just about to collapse underneath you. The man is quick to your side, a hand on the small of your back and another around your shoulder, guiding you back down upon the bed.

“Master, I-”

“None of that, petal.” He cuts off your protest. “I am not your master, and, from this day forward, you will never have one again. Pop your legs back up.”

You do so, automatically – an order is an order, no matter how confusing it may be – and he tucks the discarded blanket around you with a satisfied smirk.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Name’s Cid,” he grins, bowing with mock flourish. “May I have the pleasure of yours?”

“I don’t… Where are we?” You ignore his question.

“We’re at The Veil, in Northreach.” The Veil rings a bell in your head and the colour must drain from your cheeks as Cid is quick to try and set your mind at ease. “Not like that - the Dame is a friend of mine, just set us up for the night. You were too ill to travel.”

“Travel?”

Cid nods, sitting down heavily in the chair by your bedside. “Mm-hm. You see, I have a place that’s safe for people like you, where we can live on own own terms…”

Your eyes flicker to his Brandless cheek. “We?”

He smiles.

-------

“Here we go, petal.” Cid smiles as he enters the solar, holding the bottle aloft in triumph. “Tarja thinks you’re over the worst of it, but she’d rather you keep up with the tonics for another few days.”

You shuffle upright, aided by the multitude of pillows Cid had set up at the headboard of the bed, and frown at the prospect – the tonics are horribly bitter due to one of the plants that make up its components. “Really? But I’m feeling so much better…” Your protest falls flat at how hoarse your voice remains.

“Ah-ah,” he chides as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and proceeds to pop the cork out of the bottle, holding it out in offering. “Good girls take their medicine.”

It is a battle you know you won’t win. With a sigh, you take it from his hand, closing your eyes tightly and down the tonic with a grimace. It’s silly, but sometimes you think you’d rather go through having the Brand removed again that drinking another one of these foul things. “Thank you.” Cid plucks the now empty bottle from your hand and places it down on the side, smiling wistfully at you – it still makes your scalp tingle, even after all these years.  

“What’s that smile for?”

“Just a bit of déjà vu, love.” He wraps his fingers around your hand, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. “This reminds me of that first wonderful night we spent together.” “How?” Your brow furrows in confusion, thinking back to the night he'd first kissed you in the solar after a successful mission and a glass or two of wine. He laughs. “Not that one.”

“If you’re thinking of the one at The Veil, we have a very different opinion of what counts as wonderful.”

“How can it not have been wonderful, the night you came into this old man’s life? Only difference is, now I can do this,” he leans in to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, withdrawing quickly with a wink at your pout. “There’ll be more when you’re better.”

“But I am be-”

There’s a frantic knock upon the solar door and Cid turns, keeping your hand held in his.

“Come in.”

The door is flung open by an out of breath Gav, face red with exertion. “It’s… time.” He wheezes, leaning on her knees. “Shiva’s on the… field, like.”

“Right…” Cid nods, and you don’t miss the subtle frown as his eyes flick from Gav to you in thought. You squeeze his fingers in unspoken affirmation. “Are you sure?”

“Go. You don’t know when you’ll get another chance.”

He doesn’t need to hear it again. “Gav, tell Goetz to get ready. We’re heading out.”

“On it!” Gav turns and sprints back down the hall towards the staircase, and you squeeze Cid’s fingers once more to gain his attention.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” You ask, timidly. His forearms are mottled with petrification now, no matter how much he tries to hide his discomfort from you.

He smirks, patting your thigh through the blanket. “Don’t you worry about me, love. You just concentrate on making sure you’re fully recovered when I return, hm?”

You nod as he gets to his feet with a final squeeze of your hand. He double-checks the belts that sit ever present at his hip and adjusts his gloves ever so slightly – a nervous habit, but not one he’d ever confess. Once satisfied, Cid leans down and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Behave. I don’t need to tell you that both Charon and Tarja will have no qualms in dragging you back to bed if they see you wandering around.”

You roll your eyes and nod, knowing it’s true - you had remained spirited - and watch as he walks over to the door. He hesitates a moment, leaning his head against the doorframe as he takes one final look.

“I love you, petal.”

You smile, gripping the blankets in absence of his hand. “I love you too, Cid.” --

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[copper-wasp]

Warm Offer - Cidolfus Telamon/Fem Reader

⮚ (there's no way y'all didn't see this coming)

✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warning Tags: None, but I did choose a random name for Cid's lady to avoid using y/n ✦ Words: 2465

• 🙪 ● AO3 ● 🙪 •

Cid groaned as he slowly made his way back inside the Hideaway, many hours past when he should’ve arrived, the night nearly dark as pitch. He knew everyone had gone to sleep already - well, nearly everyone, seeing a familiar figure as he headed towards the solar. 

Wylla was at the mess, a lone candle lighting the page of the book she was reading as she nursed a mug of something in one hand.

“You’re up late,” Cid said by way of greeting, walking over to join her.

“Can’t sleep,” she explained, taking a drink from her cup. “What’s your excuse?”

“Unplanned…detour-“ he began, but noticed her nose start to wrinkle as she sniffed the air, leaning forward in her chair. She covered her mouth with her hand when she realized the awful smell was coming from him .

“Ungh, Cid, you stink like a bog!” she said with a laugh, trying to fan the air away from her with her unoccupied hand. “Did your detour take you through a sewer?”

“Is it really that bad?” he asked, trying to smell himself, the awkward heat of embarrassment flooding his skin.

“Yes! Please go take a bath before the whole hideaway starts to reek of it.”

“Care to join me, Wyl?” he offered with a smirk, knowing she’d roll her eyes in response. He couldn’t help but tease, she was always so receptive, usually having a prepared quip of her own to fire back at him. He tried to ignore the tug of attraction to her that pulled from behind his navel, but it didn’t always work.

“A kind offer but, no thank you, Cid. You’ll just trick me into washing your back for you.”

“Ah, you’ve found me out,” he replied, pulling out one of his cigars to light on the walk back to the solar. He didn’t miss the wistful little smirk on her lips, nor the way her eyes traced down his body, but he kept it to himself. “G’night, Wyl,” he called with a wave, hearing her bid him goodnight in return.

Cid rarely filled the bath all the way, but thought he’d make an exception this time, piling his clothing as far away from him as he could, deciding to deal with any lingering scent in the morning.

He sank into the water, the heat soothing his sore muscles, eyes closing to focus on the heat. He chuckled to himself as he replayed his exchange with Wylla, hoping that she’d manage to get some sleep, regardless if she needed a cask of wine to do so. It was nice seeing her out of her leathers, wearing a soft white nightdress and robe with her feet bare, her normally tightly braided hair gathered in a loose knot at the base of her neck. The two of them were the hideaway’s insomniacs, often meeting in the wee hours of the morning to commiserate about their bodies’ refusal to rest.

Cid heard the door unlatch, his eyes springing open to find the woman haunting his thoughts gently closing it behind her. She turned to face him, and Cid was very aware of how clear the bath water was, trying to quickly cover himself with one hand.

“Wylla? Why..? W-what…are you doing here?” He rarely stumbled over his words, but never in a thousand years did he think she’d actually play into his teasing.

“Joining you in the bath,” she replied nonchalantly, setting the candle she’d brought from the mess down before shrugging her robe from her shoulders to pool on the floor. Cid didn’t reply, he could only stare at her as she walked slowly towards him, trying to moisten his bottom lip with a suddenly very dry tongue. “Unless that was not a serious offer you made to me just now?” 

“It’s serious if you…want it to be,” he said, watching her intently as she re-tied her hair on top of her head to keep it from getting wet.

“I think I do want it to be serious,” she said, barely above a whisper, the promise in her voice hardening his cock.

“H-hurry in then, ‘fore the water gets cold.” His eyes greedily roved over her body, waiting for her nightdress to come off to reveal herself to him.

“Turn around,” she said, twirling her finger at him. He gave her a look, but she only grinned at him, daring him to challenge her. “Turn around so I may take my clothes off, Cid.” With a mighty groan, he did as he was told, shaking his head as he turned his back to her. 

“Bloody tease,” he mumbled, hearing her tut in reply. He focused entirely on the sound of shuffling fabric, having a better time imagining what she might look like than he thought he would. He knew she had a puckered scar above her left hip, he’d been with her when she’d been slashed by the soldier’s blade, but everything else about her was an intriguing surprise. He felt her move into his orbit, her palms soft and warm when she placed them on his shoulders.

“Scoot forward, go on,” Wylla encouraged, giving him a light push.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to wash your back for you,” she replied, squeezing his shoulders.

“Come on Wyl, you know that wasn’t serious,” Cid sighed, but he couldn’t stop a pleasured groan from slipping out as she dug her thumbs in with just a bit more pressure. 

“Scoot, Cid,” she said once more, and he complied, her tender touch welcome on his tired body. He felt the water ripple when she climbed into the basin behind him, her legs moving on either side of him and her chest against his back. She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck as he placed his hands on her calves, caressing as far down as he could reach without needing to move away from her soft lips. He felt her shift, grabbing the soap from the edge of the tub and dunking it beneath the surface. 

A silent moment passed before Cid felt her hands glide across his skin, the light scent of lavender in the air. He sighed, removing the weight of the world from his shoulders for just a little while. Wylla began to hum, nothing he recognized but beautiful all the same, and soon his eyes shut, allowing her to continue with her delicate work. 

She thoroughly washed his back and shoulders, and he let her guide him to lean back against her so she could run her soapy hands across his chest as well. She kissed his neck, feeling his pulse beat heavy against her lips as she trailed her hands down to his abdomen, feeling raised scars and peaks of muscle, an interesting sculpture for her fingers to trace.

“Wyl?” he murmured, almost completely under her spell.

“Yes, Cid?” she replied, pausing her ministrations. 

“…You are far too good to me,” he admitted, not being able to remember the last time he’d felt this cared for; usually it was him doing the caring, but he couldn’t deny how damned good it felt to be on the receiving end. All the little things she did for him came to the forefront of his mind, insignificant at the time but all signs of her generosity and concern.

“Don’t I know it,” she quipped with another kiss to his jaw. He turned his head to look at her, finding her looking unsurprisingly smug.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, covering her hands with his where they rested on his chest.

“The great Cidolfus Telamon paid me a compliment, of course I’m going to let it go to my head. I’ll make sure Gav never hears the end of it, how I’m your new favorite and how you’ll start sending me on all the good missions-”

“Get over here, you,” Cid interrupted, exasperated. He adjusted their positions until she straddled his lap, and not an insignificant amount of water was on the floor. He tried to come up with another remark, but the look on her face robbed him of speech. She reached a hand up to caress his cheek, a smile playing on her lips. She looked happy, and not just the forced mask that she normally wore, the smile reached her eyes and the chuckle that came afterward was sweet as a bell. Perhaps just for the slightest moment she’d forgotten about the torture she’d endured at the hands of her masters; forgotten the nearly worse pain of removing that damned brand from her cheek.

Cid grasped her chin, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. She melted against him, her eyes closing to fully enjoy it, her hands moving to either side of his neck. He was gentle, yet insistent, one hand sliding around her waist to the dip of her spine, flattening his palm there to draw her nearer. She sighed against his lips, feeling him there between her legs, stiff as he tried not to rut against her.

He moved his mouth to her neck, drawing every tiny noise she held within her to the surface, his palms rounding over her arse while his teeth nipped at her skin.

She whispered his name, maneuvering his face back up to meet hers for a kiss hotter than the bath. She grasped his wrist, dunking his hand beneath the water to rest between her legs. 

“The cheek on you,” Cid teased, gently tracing her slit.

“Oh, you think your constant teasing had nothing to do with this?” 

“Of course it did,” Cid chuckled, circling her entrance. “Took you long enough to realize it.” He slid his thick middle finger inside her, her head falling forward to rest on his shoulder. He waited patiently for her to adjust to the intrusion, adding a second when she began to rock her hips, his thumb rubbing her sensitive nub in tandem.

Her breathing quickened, on the precipice embarrassingly fast, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She was so close, but she didn’t want this here, no, she needed to feel him, feel his weight atop her. 

“Cid, w-wait-“ she stuttered, finding his eyes. He stopped moving his hand, beginning to withdraw at her request.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, just-“ she paused, searching the room for where he slept. “Would you…take me to bed?” He gave her a gentle nod, kissing her again before standing so abruptly that even more water splashed to the floor.

Cid helped her out of the bath, pulling her into an embrace as they stumbled to his bed, a trail of water in their wake. Helping her onto her back, Cid guided his hand back between her legs, watching her expression change as he slid inside her once again, two to the hilt. His lips wrapped around her nipple, and he felt her fingers weave into his hair, a quick scratch at his scalp making him groan. He fucked her open on his hand, so warm and wet she was that his cock was leaking in anticipation.

“Please, Cid-“ she begged, spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate him. 

“Aye… patience , love,” he replied with a sweet kiss, spreading her slick over his length. Cid hooked one hand beneath her thigh, guiding her leg over his hip and supporting it as he pressed himself inside her. 

She moaned softly, her chest heaving to try to quell her increasing heartbeat, her eyes foggy with lust; the most beautiful thing he’d seen in many moons. He caressed her cheek, letting her wrap her arms around him to keep him close when he began to move, ramping up in intensity when she dug her heel into his lower back.

They were being far too loud, the solar filling with the sounds of their coupling, but they didn’t care, feeling relaxed and cared for and loved after so many years without. Cid kissed and nipped at her neck, one of her hands fiercely trying to find his; he chuckled, grasping it and weaving his fingers with hers.

“Oh, Cid- I… I’m… fuck ,” she cursed, biting her lip. He grinned, mumbling filthy things in her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and biting hard, a moan of absolute pleasure erupting from her throat. Wylla dug her fingernails into his shoulders in reply, her body stilling for just a moment before he felt her clench around him, choking on her cry. He slowed his pace, taking a moment to lightly trail a line of kisses up her jaw.

He didn’t want to pull out of her, but her cunt was about to make the choice for him, so he withdrew, but not before holding out as long as he could. He fell to his side facing her, wrapping his hand around his cock, nearly upon his own climax.

“Let me,” Wylla offered, still catching her breath. Her hand slid down his abdomen, fingers taking the place of his around his girth. He wasn’t expecting her to be quite this willing, and the surprise of it had him cursing. It was her turn to lavish him with attention, turning to face him so she could lick his lips, coming in for a kiss before he felt her teeth nip him gently. She moaned his name, laying it on thick to usher him over the peak, the groan he made something she burned into her memory to revisit.

“Fuck me, Wyl,” he said, thrusting into her hand until he finished on her stomach, her fingers insistently stroking him until he was fully spent. 

The both of them gratefully fucked, they locked eyes, grins spreading across their lips. Cid leaned in to kiss her forehead, softly stroking her hair before rolling to the edge of the bed. 

“Hold on, I’ll clean you up,” he said, gesturing with his head towards her abdomen. She turned onto her back again, Cid returning quickly with a cloth that he used to wipe her stomach clean. He fell back onto the bed with her, drawing her in for a deep kiss, her palms resting on his chest. 

“Well,” Cid began, “Not how I was expecting my night to end, considering how it began.”

“If only we had done this sooner,” Wylla replied, tracing circles on his bicep. 

“No, the timing was…perfect, Wyl,” he assured with a caress down her side. “Think you’ll be able to get some sleep now?”

“Oh, yes, I’m going to sleep like a baby.” Her eyelids were already heavy, Cid’s warm chest a perfect place to lay her head.

“Don’t feel like you need to go back to yours,” he teased, Wylla already snuggled up tightly to his side, one arm draped over his stomach. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

• 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 • • 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 • • 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 •

Thanks so much for reading, reblogging, and/or liking!

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[xxladyballadxx]

Warm Feelings

Cidolfus Telamon x reader (Fluff Headcanon)

☁️✨Fluff☁️✨

He loves to give you all his affection whenever he has the chance to. 

Cid would shower you with all his love, anyday and anytime.

Everytime you feel down, depressed or sad, Cid would always try his best to comfort you. 

Whenever no one is watching, Cid pecks a quick kiss to your lips before heading for his mission. 

He loves to watch the stars with you whenever he’s not too busy with things. 

You would sit down by the tree next to Cid, holding his hand and leaning your head onto his shoulder while he caresses your hair lovingly. 

When you’re ill, Cid always tries to take good care of you and he would ask Lady Charon to make you a nice warm soup since he can’t cook that well. 

Cid really loves to make you all blushy and fuzzy, especially when he embarrasses you in front of Clive, Jill and Torgal. 

You would go out on a lovely walk with your lover, day or night, throughout the forest.

 (A/n) - That’s it haha! FFXVI soon to be released and I really can’t wait to dive into the story when it comes out!^-^

UNTIL NEXT TIME...<3

[robo-writing]

Thigh Riding with the FFXVI Boys

Rating: 18+ Pairings: Reader/Clive Rosfield, Reader/ Cidolfus Telamon, Reader/ Barnabas Tharmr, Reader/Joshua Rosfield Author's note: I had some vile thoughts about Clive's thighs, which evolved into this. I truly have no shame.

Clive Rosfield

You’re both lying in your shared bed chambers, what started as a chaste kiss soon turned into more, the heated exchange leaving you aching for more. His lips assault your own, large hands bringing you closer and closer into his lap as you grind against him.

“Founder, you’ll kill me,” he groans with a smile, rolls his eyes as you straddle his leg. 

“Come on Clive,” you whine. Dragging yourself higher and higher on his thick thighs. “Lemme ride you? Please? I promise it’ll feel good, just let me—”

A clench of his thigh and you shut up, whatever you were going to say interrupted with a cry of his name.

Clive shakes his head, holds you down and moves your body faster. “This is your punishment, for being a tease the whole day—”

You’re aware of your actions, how you had bent over in his favorite sundress, pressed your ass against him as he walked past and let him wanting in the middle of the hideaway. Even so you beg for forgiveness, cradling his head between your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, kissing at his jaw. “I just wanted to mess with you a little, please—”

“You certainly did,” he grunts, watching your body shake with fascination. “And now you reap the rewards. You come like this or not at all, understand?”

You want to argue, but his steel gaze makes your words die on your tongue. Another whine, your hips move on their own, faster and faster still. Pawing at his bare chest, the hard plane serving as an anchor as he manhandles you.

He swallows every noise you make, every high-pitched sob and wail you make only spurring him further. “What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?”

There’s a cruel laugh that leaves him, but you’re too far gone to care, aching for more until his fingers find your clit.  You fall to ruin with his name on your lips, your release dripping against his thighs. 

You share a moment of calm, breaths entangling with each other, the silence broken when his cock presses at your entrance.

Strained, he sighs into your mouth. “You’ll be the death of me,” before flipping you onto your back.

Cidolfus Telamon

When Gav mentioned Cid needed you in his solar you had an idea of his intentions, but you never expected to find him shirtless in his chair, legs spread.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said as you entered. Fully turned and beckoning you toward him, his voice invites you closer.

“Here, come take a seat on your commander's lap.”

He’s a tease to the highest degree, you knew this already, but he still manages to surprise you. You look to his legs, and back to him, biting your lip in hesitation. 

“Come now,” he drawls, patting his leg. “I know you’re interested.”

Damn him and his smug grin because he’s right, and it only grows wider when you walk forward. One step, and then another, his eyes follow you closely as you straddle his leg, finding just the right spot that makes your breath catch in your throat.

Observant as he is, he feels your reaction, leans in close to say: “Right there?”

He moves your hips just slightly and you answer with a sigh. “Yes, right there.”

He makes a noise in agreement, and then rocks you back and forth, drawing out the cutest moans from your lips.

“Told you it’d feel nice,” he sighs. His voice echoes in your ears, makes your body hotter as he drags his thigh against your pussy. 

“Suppose that’s all you need then,” he teases. His hands grip your ass tighter when you grind into him. You’re lost in the feeling of the soft leather against your clit, your head hanging down as you pick up the pace.

Don’t, don’t say that—” you gasp, whimpering when he lands a slap to your rear.

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” Another slap echoes through the air. “Seems to me you’re enjoying yourself plenty. Willing to bet I don’t even need to fuck you, just let you sit pretty on my lap just like this—”

His leg rises higher and higher, laughing as you tremble above him. “I’m right aren’t I?”

Grunts bounce off the walls, a rhythm forming between the two of you. “Don’t even need my cock, do you?”

“I do,” you moan, uncaring of how loud you are. “I need it, please—”

“What was that?” He huffs, bites at your neck and licks at the marks he leaves behind. “I can’t hear you dear, speak up.”

“I need your cock, please Cid!” you cry, holding onto his shoulders. Your legs burn with exhaustion, back arching into his touch. He bounces his thigh once, twice, growling in your ear as he does.

“Come for me love, and I’ll let you have it.”

There’s a moment when your body goes numb, before you become awash with emotion. He comforts you through your orgasm, mumbling praise as you press yourself into his hold, shaking.

A moment of quiet, you feel the press of his bulge against the side of your leg as he speaks.

“That was only the beginning, we still have the rest of the night.”

Barnabas Tharmr

Sleipnir informed you that Barnabas would be missing all day, with him being unable to return until nightfall. Diplomatic duties, he called it, and even though you knew it was a requirement of being king of your own nation, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit lonely. That loneliness soon turned to longing, and when he left you alone in your shared bed to continue his work, that longing turned to lust.

You knew he was busy, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see your husband, manners be damned.

Your entrance is announced with the gentle creaking of the door. Instantly his head lifts to admonish, only for his gaze to soften at the sight of you.

“My love, what are you doing here?” He asks, neck deep in a stack of papers. He usually looks exhausted, but it’s as if the sight of you alone gives him a boost of energy. 

Wordlessly he opens his arms and you stride toward him, falling into his embrace. He holds you tight, breathes in your scent and sighs blissfully.

“I’ve missed you, my king,” you mumble in his hair, your voice carrying an all-too familiar whine to it.

“Is that so?” He chuckles, watches you nod with a pout on your lips. “I apologize for neglecting you, my dear. As you can see, I have been otherwise occupied.”

He waves towards the messy stack of documents half-heartedly before looking back to you.

“I know, I know,” you agreed. You move to sit onto his lap and he lets you, the feeling of his warm hands against your waist making your body relax. “Couldn’t you take a break? For me?”

For once you take advantage of your charms, give him the best doe-eyes you can and stroke his jaw. There’s a moment of weakness, the temptation to give in visible in his eyes, but he soon shakes his head.  “Unfortunately I cannot.”

The disappointment is visible on your face. A kiss to your temple does little to help.

A beat, he takes your chin between his fingers and gives you a sinful smile. “I have an idea, if you’re interested.”

You nod, following the movement of his body. He relaxes further in his chair, pulling you forward.

“I can’t stop my work, however…”

He shifts, places you fully onto his leg and purrs into your ear.

“...you are free to take what you need.”

He looks at you expectantly, your facing getting hot at the implication. Your eyes flick between him and your position, easing yourself onto the thick muscle with a languid pace. Slow, calculated, you glide onto him until your lust catches up with you, burying your face in his chest as you rock back and forth.

“That’s it…” he coos, leaving a kiss to your cheek before working on his papers once more. “Behave, and when I’m done I will make sure you’re taken care of.”

Back and forth, you move erratically, and even though his eyes are on his paperwork his attention is on you, the slight bounce to his leg bringing you to new heights. You whine into his tunic, a familiar heat blossoming in your core.

He takes notice immediately, holds you down and presses you further as he clenches his leg, comforting you as you shake and shudder on top of him, struggling for breath.

“Such a pretty sight, my beautiful queen falling apart.” he mutters, his eyes ripped from whatever he was doing before to watch you. You’re certain you’ve left a mess of his pants, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“I barely have to touch you, desperate thing that you are.” he hums. His words bring you to completion, thighs shaking with the force of your orgasm. His strong hand rubs your back when you collapse on top of him, kissing at your face and tasting the sweat from your brow.

“So well behaved,” he quipped, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Now, are you satisfied or would you rather I lend my efforts?”

Joshua Rosfield

When Joshua suggested trying something new in the bedroom you were on board immediately. You fully trusted him heart and body, but you will admit, you had your doubts in the beginning.

“So, I just sit?” You ask. He nods excitedly, beckons you close and pats his leg. You follow, letting yourself settle into his embrace.

“You trust me, right?”

“I do, it’s just…a little simple, don’t you think?”

He kisses away your doubt, your body relaxing under his touch. “Have I ever left you unsatisfied?”

The answer comes to you easily. “No, but—“

He interrupts you with another kiss. “Then trust that I will not start now.”

And so he kept his promise, within minutes you were helplessly moaning into his mouth, descending into madness with each push and pull, his hands glued to your waist.

Somewhere between begging him for more and crying out his name you apologized for ever doubting him.

The desire you feel suffocated you, grips you tight and doesn’t let go. A particularly hard bounce has your eyes closed in pleasure before Joshua brings your attention back to him.

“Don’t close your eyes dear, look at me,” he whispers. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, but you look up anyway and stare through half-lidded eyes.

“There you are, that’s it,” he gasps. “I knew you could do it.”

He surges forward, capturing your lips as you squirm on his lap. He swallows every noise you make greedily, a desire to consume your very being. His fingers sneakily find your clit and circle the sensitive nub, forcing you to pull away and cry out in bliss.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he coos. “I’ve got you, just let go for me.”

You do as he asks, letting your juices run down his leg. Your hips stutter against him, body soon falling limp and succumbing to pleasure. Your mind still feels heavy with lust, mouthing half-finished sentences until you can manage to catch your breath.

“Where the hells did you learn that?” you mumble.

He chuckles at your weakened state, running his hands across your body. “I may have heard Cid mention the idea.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Your laughter falls in sync with his as he speaks. “Even so, I thought it was interesting. I enjoy looking at you. It’s not everyday I get to witness someone so pretty.”

Your face runs hot at his words. “You see me every day though.”

He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “And yet it’s never enough.”

He maneuvers you onto the bed, crawls between you and plays with the waist of your underwear.

“Now, be a dear and let me see more.”

[neimlise]

The lack of Ci-DILF-us Cidolfus “Cid” Telamon and Joshua Rosfield content is killing meeeeee.

[freyito]

my fellow americans. or literally anyone. if kamala wins i will write some down HORRENDOUS nasty 10k words smut of ONE (1 ((ONE)) character.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

An Apple A Day || Cidolfus 'Cid' Telamon

A/n: just a short yet sweet piece.

A fit of coughs distracts you from your work, drawing you to one Cidolfus Telamon as he attempts to quell the fit, shoving the smoking cigarette back into his mouth once he does.

Turning up your eyes in annoyance, you retrieve the fresh apple you had been saving for yourself, taking it to him.

"Eat," you insist. 

"I already ate," Cid retorts, ignoring the persistent look in your eyes. 

You yank the cigarette from his mouth, stomping it out, much to his chagrin. Then you hop onto the corner of his desk. 

"I don't believe I was giving you much of a choice."

Cid grunts, taking the apple from you. 

"What good will this do?"

"It might keep you from an early grave," you tease. 

He snorts, then takes a bite.

"As if you would give them the pleasure of finishing off this old bag of bones."

He knows you well. You grin. 

"It is my duty to watch after you. That includes protecting you from yourself."

Cid hums, standing with a grunt. You reach up and rest your hand on his chest as he leans forward to kiss you, a pleasant sensation that brings goosebumps to your skin.

"Never stood a chance against you," the gorgeous man utters as he parts. 

"I won't tell anyone it was I who bested you."

You almost wish he had kissed you longer. There's no telling what the future will hold. With tears in your eyes, you force a smile. His warm hand rests in yours and no matter the weight on your shoulders, you are happy to be the one he trusts to have his back. 

[snakegorl212006]

If you're still taking Final Fantasy 16 requests (feel free to delete if not), can I get the characters with an s/o from our world (doesn't mention they're characters in a game) and manages to operate Fallen Technology because it's similar enough to our technology.

Sorry this is so long

 What If there S/O could operate fallen technology  

========Clive + Jill==============

-oh they’ll think that’s amazing! -Jill would encourage you use your talents to help the Hideaway -Clive,although curious about how you lean such a thing, would also encourage you to help out -definitely save clive half the trouble when going in dungeons(seriously magitek are annoying) -If you’re skilled enough to control the little magitek or even the golems this would be a huge help in protecting the hideaway from outside forces -both jill and clive would be reluctant to use your assets for any combat purposes due to there overprotectiveness over you -No matter if this ability is primarily magic based or more physical, they don’t want you to tire yourself out -also this ability can help on the enemy sides and they definitely don’t want that -Jill and Clive aren’t ones to pry into your secrets so If there’s a particular reason why and how you learned how to control fallen technology they won’t ask too many questions -at this point in the relationship, they trust you enough to make the right choices and tell them the truth when ready

=======Joshua + jote=============

-would also be overjoyed about this power in fact would utilized this more then clive and jill. -they don’t want to exhaust yourself to death but more information about fallen tek is greatly appreciated and valued -Joshua would convince you to use this ability to control fallen technology inorder for jote and the Undying to conduct further research that can help defeat ultima with limited casualties ,prevent or contain the blight -Jote would be curious on how you gain these abilities -She wouldn't push on your secrets too much but would try to get you to spill -Jote wants no poison in the foundation of yall’s relationship -both would be more protective over you -especially when your powers can be used against their cause

====Cid===============

-suspicious of this control you have on fallen tek -I mean it makes cid’s hideaway safer sense it’s in a fallen structure assuming you could use the leftover fallen tek as security cameras -but there’s this lingering question on how where and why can you control fallen technology -like the others Cid doesn't want to pressure the answers out of you and would prefer you tell him the truth -But if you don’t mentioned it long enough or allow him to adapt to this ability, he doen’t push the conversation -as long as you’re using it for good -unlike jill,clive,jote,and joshua he wouldn't utilize you as much -maybe ask for you to get some patrolling golems to have outside in secret but the rest is up to you -If he really needs you then he’ll ask but other then that he’s chill about it and doesn't make a fuss

====Benedikta============

-yeah… she’s gonna ask a ton of questions -gives you the “big stick” treatment -she love you but will drop you if you betray her -this especially if you just now shown her you could control fallen technology -you’re gonna have to do a lot of convincing to keep whatever secret you have that’s tied to this ability of yours -would definitely use you for her own personally gain -”if you love me so much can you just do this little thing” -she would use you to make a empire if you let her -she’d be queen while you be her one and only consort -it’s your reward for your outstanding loyalty

======Dion + terence==============

-”. . . .” -”I beg your pardon?” -Dion would have no idea how to approach this topic -Terence would not know how to react when he found out you can control fallen technology -Dion would become very protective with you and would encourage you not to get involved in any military or political schemes -Terence would be the same and would suggest you tell absolutely no body -people talk and If the king knows you will be exploited as another tool conquest along side dion -neither want that -They REFUSE to utilize this ability of yours and prefer you don’t use it unless absolutely necessary -they wouldn't love you less or look at you differently or ask how you even discover you can control fallen technology -they know you have this power and appreciate you tell them that much about yourself -But they don’t want you to use it unless you have to

=====Barnabas + Sleipnir============

-yeah you’re gonna be used -A lot -they don’t care how you got or where you got it -Barnabas would be slightly curious on how and where and would 100% pressure you to answer -you have the option to lie although he would prefer the truth -regardless Barnabas would utilize you somewhat safely considering how valuable you are you can land in enemy hands -Barnabas would send you and Sleipnir to gather an army of magitek so conquest would be easier -Despite this, you will be kept on a tighter leash -They can’t have you betraying them now can they~ -things wouldn't change significantly other then you have more work then just warming the throne

====Hugo============

-would find it interesting -although this gives him even more reason to protect you at all cost -with such power you can easily be used to overthrow hundreds of kingdoms if you wanted too -No he wouldn't utilized this perhaps it’s because he view himself strong enough to keep you safe -although he wouldn't be as worried for he can just ask you to make your own guard squad when he has to use his man -He would personally go out and go into fallen structures and retrieve parts or full fallen tek equipment to use as much as you like -I don’t think he would act any different regardless

[thinkingotherwise]

He's so cheeky, my little outlaw - I adore him

I'm your idiot

Cidolfus Telamon x reader

As the leader of Hideaway, Cid took it upon himself to provide the equipment needed for their base. And so, he frequently visited cities to barter with people and also have something to relax after the tiring days of work. You somehow tagged along to a couple of the trips feeling a little too trapped sitting only in the Hideaway.

Cid knew that taking you with him to the city would be a mistake. You were like a magnet bringing trouble wherever you appeared. You always told him it was because others were too dumb and couldn't take on constructive criticism, and well you just weren't that patient with them. But in reality, you were his troublemaker. The little spark of excitement and chaos in his already adventurous life.

It was so easy to predict how the whole outing would turn out even before he saw you running towards him. He was almost fooled by the grin on your face but when he saw a couple of soldiers behind your back he relented. A sigh left his body and smoke filled his vision momentarily. He put down the cigarette from his mouth and quickly downed the rest of his drink, some of it spilling on his leather glove. The cup made a distinct sound as it touched the counter.

The sound of footsteps grew louder and your chuckle echoed in his ears. He turned in your direction only to be immediately swept as you grabbed his hand and pulled him behind you. "Well, hello. Please do enlighten me, why are we running this time?" His voice was playful but also unimpressed as he kept up with you moving through the streets. "Later, now we need to lose them." You replied sending him a swift wink which made him snort.

In front of you appeared a crossing and your eyes followed the different ways to decide which one would be the best but just before you made up your mind your arm went flying toward Cid as did your body. He pulled you to his side and through a little alleyway to a wooden bridge that proved to be a good enough hideout.

Your back touched the side of his chest as his hand sneaked around you and covered your mouth. The sound of surprise that you let out was quietened by the leather covering his palm and he sent you a cheeky grin when you side-eyed him. "Just a moment." He muttered quietly in your ear. When the footsteps of the soldiers that were following you disappeared his glove left your face and you wiped your lips with your hand right after. "Did you drink again?" You looked at him with a grimace that he didn't invite you but sent you out to do his job.

"Just a little taste while I was waiting for you." He replied swiftly but when your eyes still bore into him he added. "I couldn't start working with my mouth dry." You hummed at that and opened your mouth to say more but he continued trying to change the topic. "So tell me now why were the soldiers following after you?" His grin appeared again and he leaned his back against one of the wooden poles that were holding the bridge.

"Pff.. Don't think I'll forget about it when you change the topic. But just so you know they were playing around making more work for the people here." You told him shortly omitting most of the stuff that happened and he knew exactly why. Cid was very aware he would be listening to you talk about it on your way back to the Hideaway so he was the one to give up on the topic. "You're such an idiot." He summarised but his voice was full of affection and teasing. His eyes met yours and you waited for him to continue. Waited for the famous 'but'. Yet it didn't come and you furrowed your brows. "But..." You started wanting him to continue on.

The silence was getting louder and you looked around becoming more impatient before your gaze fell to him. His smirk made you even more irritated. Your eyes squinted and you slapped his arm to make him talk. "What?" He let out in between his deep chuckle. Seeing you irritated like that brought him joy and paid him back for getting you out of trouble. Not wanting to let him win fully you pursed your lips. "But I'm your idiot." You stated and leaned closer to him sending him a little wink.

Keeping you still in suspense he brought out a cigarette placing it in his mouth. Your hand went to snatch it but he grabbed it between his own fingers moving it to the side. His face then closed in on yours and he placed a quick kiss on your lips. "Yes yes, my idiot." The words were muttered keeping the distance to you as close as possible before he pulled away. The cigarette found its way back to his mouth and he lit it easily before emerging from under the bridge and moving deeper into the city making you follow after him with a pleased smile on your face.