#clive rosfield x you

[drabblesandimagines]

Prescription

Clive Rosfield x fem reader Fluffy fluff, bit of injury

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not-“

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

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

“Honestly, Clive, you made her walk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out.” Tarja reiterates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds like there’s bad news…”

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

“Ah.”

“Deep breath and we’ll get started.”

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

“Deep breath. First one’s the worst.”

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

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

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

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

“Who, Clive?” Jill’s voice teases.

“Stop it, it’s not like that.”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Right, drink.”

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What welcome?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

“Exactly.” You nod. “Me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath catches in your throat.

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

“May I request a kiss of my beloved?”

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

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

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

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

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

By the Mothers.

--

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

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield fluff #final fantasy 16 x reader #ffxvi x reader

[iliektehhaxs]

Words Unspoken, Actions Taken

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But nearly is not enough for him.

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

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

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #Clive Rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #Clive Rosfield smut #angry smut #dom!clive #Robo Writes #clive rosfield #your honor he's babygirl coded #final fantasy xvi smut

[qvrcll]

no smooth roads for us

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

You discover quickly that Clive fucks you like he fights.

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

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

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

Clive — please, touch me, comes your plea.

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

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

There — there you go, my love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rough enough?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He liked playing rough.

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

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield imagine #clive rosfield fanfic #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy fanfic #final fantasy fic #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi imagine #ffxvi fanfic

[multi-fandom-imagine]

«Please || Clive Rosfield ||

prompt used:

[ STOP ]  for sender to try and walk away,  afraid they’re going to get their heart broken but receiver grabs their wrist and pulls them back in for a kiss. 

[ NEEDED ] sender approaches receiver and kisses them longer and more passionately than they ever have before.

A/n:Has nothing to do with the events in the game,I gotta wait until Friday to play but I had to write something for him.

He was a Marquess, it was what his mother constantly reminded you of…she said it out of love of course, she would hate to see such a pretty face get hurt.

You knew it was a lie, she just saw you as an embarrassment for her son.Yet that did not matter to you because Clive loved you or at least you thought he did. You hated how her words started affecting you, you hated seeing the hurt in his eyes when you kept making excuses to stop seeing him and it seemed Clive has gotten sick of it.

Your name rang throughout the halls, you did your best not to flinch as you slowly turned your body around to face the man. “Clive…I…I really must be going.”

Turing your body around, you start to walk away only to feel a hand grasp your wrist. Your body pressing against his, you felt your cheeks grow warm as you felt his lips pressing against yours. Breaking the kiss he then cupped your cheek, his thumb gliding across your cheek. “Please do not walk away from me, if this is about my mother then I do not care what she say’s I do not care what she thinks. I love you.”

You hated hearing how broken he sounded, you didn’t want that. “Clive…are you sure?! you know I come from nothing.”

“You will never be nothing to me.”

Letting his fingers weave through your hair, you melted into the kiss. Your lips parting as you felt his tongue glide across your own. Clive’s fingers sliding under your skirts, his fingers brushing your inner thigh as he broke the kiss, his lips brushing your jaw then your neck.

“And I will make you realize until you understand how much you mean to me.”

#drabbles #drabble #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy x you

[xxladyballadxx]

Taste of You

Clive Rosfield x (fem) reader

🚫 NO MINORS ALLOWED🚫

🔞18+ONLY!!!🔞

Clive had enough of these bastards at the tavern flirting with you. He grew furious at them, those hungry men fawning over you. You tried to make them go away as you started to get very uncomfortable. Too many had surrounded you. Clive felt his rage consuming him, so he got off the table and stormed off to beat the shit out of these men before you could use your magic to make them go away. 

The situation got extremely heated when Clive threw his fists at these assholes for trying to touch you and flirt with you. Your jaw dropped in shock, looking at the huge mess. Even the bartender was shocked to see Clive causing a scene. “Woah…Clive…you good?” You asked him concerningly, you have never this side of him before and this is the first time you’ve seen his strange behavior. Clive huffed like a beast in annoyance, laying his eyes on you as if he were the predator. He made his way to grab your wrist and he was holding it very tight. Clive pulled you away from the tavern to go to a private room, “Let’s not waste our time here, (Y/n).” 

As he continued to pull you along with him, you groaned in a little heat of pain and Clive seemed to be holding your wrist too tight causing you to yell at him. “Clive, stop! You’re hurting me! Fucking hell!” You snapped in a harsh tone, trying to pull away from him. Clive truly has a strong grip, you gave up trying and wondered what’s going to happen next. 

After entering the private room, Clive locked the door so no one would dare to try and come in. “Seriously, what is up with you?! Are you-“ you got slammed into the tough surface as Clive gripped your wrists up against the wall, laying his eyes of hunger upon you. You felt your heart rising up to heaven when Clive smacked his lips against yours. Clive began to hold you close to him as he kissed you, having his arms around you. You felt a flutter of sensation flowing through your body, an emotion of excitement.

You moaned through the kiss, gripping his head and hopping onto him as Clive motioned his hands quickly to hold you. He laid you down onto the bed gently while deepening the kiss. 

You and Clive paused for a moment, wanting to take a breather. “Wow…that was…amazing..” you never knew this would happen to you, you had your first kiss with someone who had been holding his strong feelings for you…for ages!

“(Y/n), I love you. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment to happen. It drives me crazy when I think of you.” Clive finally confessed the feelings he’s been having for you ever since you bloomed into his life like a wild flower that came out of nowhere, “I want you all to myself. You are mine and nobody else’s. I need you.”

Your (e/c) eyes got teary after his sweet confession, revealing your happy-sad face with happy tears, “Do you really feel that way?” 

Clive curved a soft smile, he moved his head to place a swift kiss onto your lips, “Does that answer your question, my sweet (Y/n)?” 

You kissed him back, caressing the side of his face lovingly, “Yes.” And so the two of you carried on having a loving moment together. Clive stripped his entire armor off and you blushed like mad when he did that, seeing him bare naked. You took off your corset with Clive lending you hand untying the knots. You took off all your clothing and tossed them aside. Clive crawled on top of you and kissed you deeply. You gave out a loud moan, flinging your arms around him. “I want to be inside of you, (Y/n). I want to show how much I fucking love you. How much I fucking desire you.” His words caused your body to tremble but in a good way. Clive inserted his sweetstick into your g-spot. A moan escaped from your lips. He thrusted forward, starting with a slow motion.  “Please go rough on me, Clive…please…” you begged him to fuck your brains out like a beast. Clive smirked mischievously, his hungry eyes of desire preying upon you, “If that’s what you want, my love…” since you asked so nicely of him, he decided to go all wild on you. Thrusting inside you crazily, you can feel your whole body melting entirely. “Ahhh…mmmm…fuck….ah..ah..” your heavy moans caused Clive to get more wilder, digging your nails into the bedsheets. He goes harder on you, speeding up the motion. “Oh (Y/n)….my dear sweet (Y/n)…” Clive whispered through his moan, he places wet kisses onto your neck while his sweet cock devours your insides. Your moans got heavier across the room, “AHHH CLIVE!” The excitement from your lustrous howls were like music to Clive’s ears. “Fuck…oh (Y/n) I’m going to enjoy fucking you like an animal…” his sweet long cock twisted your insides, the heavy moans that escaped your lips were a delightful sound of harmony. “Ah…mmm….oh Clive…it feels so fucking…ah so fucking good…” you howled like a wild cat, moaning sexually. “Oh eikons, (Y/n)….I fucking love you!” Clive cried, thrusting inside you rapidly, “Shit, I’m about to cum…. Oh fuck…” 

You hummed in a sexual manner, “Do it, Clive….please cum inside me!” the more you beg for it, the more excited Clive gets. 

“Ahh…” Clive moaned, entering the climax by cumming inside you. He laid his body next to you afterwards. You kissed him on the cheek, laying down your head onto his warm arm. “Holy eikons, that was so fucking amazing..”

 Losing your virginity to Clive was the greatest thing you ever experienced. “I love you so damn fucking much, (Y/n).” Clive spoke in a soft tone, his voice so soothing that made you love him even more. You set your gaze on Clive, looking up to him, “I love you too, my sweet fireflame. You mean the whole world to me.” 

Clive held your face and kissed you passionately, “Marry me, (Y/n)..” he caressed your red tinted cheek as your eyes widened in surprise. “W-what..?” You stuttered, your heart rushing through the beatings of a rhythm. Clive smiled softly, laying back down, “You heard me. You’re the only one I truly want to be with, (Y/n).” 

You imagined the wonderful moments you will be spending the rest of your life with Clive, living in a cottage, growing old together and things like that.  “Say it again, Clive. This time, don’t demand it. Just ask.” You told him sweetly, Clive figured out what you wanted him to do. He gazed upon you and held your hand into his, the warmth swayed over to you as he looked at you and asked, “(Y/n) (L/n), will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Clive….of course I will marry you!” You cried out in joy, tears of happiness formed into your (e/c) eyes. Clive embraced you into his arms, kissing your forehead. 

“My precious Clive..”

“My beautiful (Y/n)..” 

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #clive rosfield #cliverosfield #cliverosfieldxreader #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #finalfantasyxvi #finalfantasy16 #x reader #ffxvi x reader

[kianaflame23]

Final Fantasy XVI Clive Rosfield sfw and n*fw headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonus ☆

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

#not gonna edit this #sorry for my bad grammar #hope everyone still like this tho! ^ ^ #ff16 #final fantasy 16 #ffxvi #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield x reader #clive x you #clive x reader #ffxvi clive rosfield #torgal #my writing #my headcanons

[gay-dorito-dust]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What about now?’ Clive asked you.

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

#ffxvi imagine #ffxvi imagines #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi x you #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield imagines #Clive rosfield imagine #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy x you #final fantasy imagines #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy 16 imagines #final fantasy 16 x you #final fantasy 16 imagine #final fantasy imagine

[noctylisse]

Back To You, I Will

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise I will.”

"Come back in one piece, you must."

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

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

#clive x reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive ffxvi #clive rosfield x you #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy 16 x reader #final fantasy xvi #ffxvi x reader #clive rosfield fluff

[jinwoosungs]

{ 116 }

the hardest to love.

clive rosfield x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; soft depictions of physical intimacy - minors don't interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

{ but i've been the hardest to love, and yet i can't believe that you still want me. }

you were the first to awaken when a sudden coldness was felt coursing through your veins, alerting you to how your once shared bed only held your form above its mattress with your lover all but present.

willing for this to be nothing but a bad dream, you keep your eyes shut and slowly reach out to the opposite side of the bed, only to feel the cold sheets against the palm of your hands. such a cold sensation was enough to force you to open your eyes, feeling them sting with the sensation of unshed tears.

you sit up in bed and look towards the dying embers settled within the fireplace, its warmth all but lukewarm as you could feel the night air paint goosebumps against your skin.

clive's sudden absence made your heart ache, hurting you deeply as you could feel the pinpricks of your slumber drifting away from you as you wondered where he had gone. lately, his distance has become difficult for you to accept, and you weren't sure if you could survive if clive ever told you he stopped loving you.

there was a strange anxiety felt settling within the pit of your stomach, and you felt nauseous at the thought of clive leaving you.

you, who had loved him throughout everything-

you, who had never once thought about leaving him or abandoning him-

even if he were to ever stop loving you; even if he were the first to abandon you, you knew that deep down that you would never ever stop loving the man simply known as clive rosfield.

ignoring the cold that was felt permeating into the cabin walls, you allow your bare feet to swing over the bed, touching at the wooden floors while making your trek towards the living room. looking out at the open window, you saw that clive's ax was gone and was immediately filled with relief, knowing that he had gone out to collect wood for the fire.

not wishing for your beloved to feel alone, you decide to wait against the settee that was settled in the living space, keeping warm by blowing puffs of air into your hands to help with staving off the cold felt in your extremities.

you hadn't the slightest clue how much time had passed, and you were close to dosing off had it not been for the sounds of the door unlocking and opening, revealing clive. he has his arms full with wood and appeared taken aback by the sight of you. he frowns a bit, setting some of the freshly cut wood to the side while calling out your name. "why are you still awake? it's late, my love."

your heart begins to turn inexplicably warm at the sound of his usual term of endearment for you, making your heart begin to race as you got up to help him.

the heartache you once felt at the thought of clive's distance all but dissipates as you eagerly take a hold of some of the logs he had brought, not heeding his warning about the splinters.

only when you felt a sharp prickling pain at your fingertips did you gasp and move away, dropping the log as your eyebrows became furrowed with concern. without wasting a second, clive discards the rest of the logs.

"i told you to not be so rash, now come closer, so that i can see the splinter beneath the moonlight."

clive chastises you, but you knew that his words were said completely due to the love and concern he held for you. as he turns your hand around, he sees the splinter and carefully extracts it from your fingertips. you wince in response to the slight pain, letting out a laugh as you decided to hide your discomfort with a joke.

"my, had i known that all it would take for you to notice me once more was a mere splinter, than i would have gladly given myself a million of them all at once."

clive frowns at your words, with a hurtful expression crossing his features for the briefest of moments. he meets your gaze and sees how utterly defeated you looked. you hear him say your name while caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

"whatever do you mean by this, love?"

"clive, i'm not stupid, nor will i ever be a woman you could hide things from. i know how distance you have become. i cannot count the times i have woken up in bed, cold and alone without you near."

clive lets out a soft string of curses, "by the founder..."

he mumbles a few other words that you couldn't quite catch, sitting on the spot next to you while running a hand through his onyx hair. you kept your gaze on his, yet, it was clear that the rosfield knight was not brave enough to maintain eye contact with you.

"this is no excuse, i-i know that, but... i always felt so undeserving of love. i always saw myself as an irredeemable monster who was incapable of receiving love. hell, even my own mother scorned me since the moment i was born."

you could hear the way his voice broke each time he spoke, yet still, you remained tight lipped and quiet, forcing yourself to remain quiet.

"i grew up with feelings of self-loathing, and that has never stopped, even to this day. i always thought that i would be alone, but that all blew up into flames the moment you stepped into my life."

clive finally meets your gaze, and you felt your heart ache even further upon seeing the sheen of unshed tears settled against his true blue eyes. "you, who painted my entire world in a rose colored lens, making valisthea appear so much more beautiful than it truly was. you brought so much light into my life-"

"but then, those damn thoughts would always resurface. i would think about how...how you were much to beautiful for me to keep. that i was a selfish bastard for wanting to keep you to myself. t-that, if i were to ever tell you of these thoughts, that you would leave me. that i've been the hardest to love because... i never knew how to love you properly; that you were never mine."

a silence was settled between the two of you, and you could see clive looking away from you, curling into himself as he hid his face beneath the palm of his hands. "so... i figured since you would leave me anyways, then i had no reason to remain by your side, pushing you away because i-i never deserved you."

unable to stand being away from him, you softly call out to him, climbing on top of his lap as you settled yourself even closer to him. with your arms wrapped around him, you allow your lips to brush against his deep onyx locks, ready to comfort him and shower him with all the love you had to offer.

"you've never been the hardest to love, clive." you whisper to him, taking a hold of both of his hands so that he could reveal himself to you. he was still silently crying when you brushed your lips against his damp cheeks, the touch as soft as a butterfly's wings as you could taste the saltiness of his tears.

you hear him ready to let out a protest, yet you simply shushed him in response, not allowing your beloved to interrupt you. "loving you has never been difficult, clive. in fact, loving you has become as natural as breathing to me..."

"but, if you still do not believe my words, then please, allow me to show you."

taking a hold of his hand, you get off of his lap, feeling pleased that clive was already following you into your shared room. with your bed in sight, you gently shove your beloved against the mattress. you hear his gruff voice calling out your name, further fueling your desire for him as you carefully stepped out of your nightgown, allowing the gossamer material to pool against your feet.

you crawl on top of the bed, relishing in clive's labored gasps of your name. you allow your hands to explore the fabric of his tunic, lifting it up as his gorgeously crafted body was revealed to you. his name falls from your parted lips in a reverent whisper, and you spend the next moments worshipping his form.

your lips latch on to his skin, pressing butterfly kisses down his chest. each time you felt his sweat rolling down his skin, you would eagerly lick the bitter substance away, basking in his groans. you felt clive delve his hands into your hair, pulling at them gently each time your lips eagerly met with his heated skin. little did you know that your touch was enough to send clive's heart into flames, leaving him a mess of grunts as groans as he begged for you.

the feelings of desire coupled along with the intensity of love you felt for him was enough to make you pull down his leather pants, revealing his painful erection to you as you slowly began to stroke him. you could feel the moisture collecting between your legs, your swollen sex aching almost with a desperation to finally have him inside of you.

"let me show you how much i love you- how much i need you... how i will always need you." your voice comes out as whiny and breathless, still stroking him into full hardness before placing your slickness over his pulsating cock, moving back and forth while creating an almost maddening friction between you and him.

when the need for him became too much was when you gently lifted yourself off of him, allowing his tip to collect some more droplets of your arousal before fully sinking down on him. this makes clive cry out to you, the feeling of your warm and wet walls feeling so maddeningly addictive and sinful. he buries his head against the plush pillows, letting out a string of curses.

"fuck, you feel so fucking good. i can't take it 'nymore...!"

you weren't faring any better yourself, bracing yourself against his broad chest as you eagerly bounced yourself up and down his shaft. you could feel each and every inch of him massaging at your walls, making you cry out in response. "founder... it has been far too long, clive...! you fill me so well."

clive could reach parts of you that you didn't know existed, and when you adjusted your movements, you could feel the tip of him hit a part deep inside you that had you seeing stars. with a gasp of his name, you continue riding him, losing all sense of direction as your movements became sloppier.

but clive didn't seem to mind, seeming to urge you on as he places his hands on your waist, helping you bounce up and down his cock as he speeds up your movement. you were getting close, becoming breathless as your lovemaking began to make loud squeaking noises against your shared mattress.

with one final push against his hips, you began to see light blinding your vision, your core convulsing around clive's cock as it takes on a tighter grip the moment you felt your release.

"FUCK!" clive lets out a hiss, sitting up from his position to capture your lips in a searing kiss. as you were caught in the throes of passion, clive continues to thrust his hips upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm before stilling his hips completely.

you let out another, drawn out moan, feeling thick streams of his seed going into you as you were certain he had painted the entirety of your wall white. you could feel the mixture of your releases escape out of your soaked core and down clive's now flaccid cock.

in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking, you were as content as a cat who's had her fill of cream, letting out a purr as you rested your head against clive's broad shoulders. with the lust completely gone, you basked in the love you had for him, pressing lingering kisses against his shoulder as clive leans in to kiss at your damp hair.

"by the founder, it's too damn hot." you let out a soft gasp when clive places a hand on your hips, still wishing to remain connected to you as he rips his tunic away from his body. when his chest was completely bare for you, clive lays back down, taking you with him as you giggled in response.

"so do you believe in my love for you, now?" you brush your lips against his jawline, waiting for his answer as you could feel his laughter, the vibrations sending tiny pinpricks of pleasure coursing through you.

"hmm..." clive considers his answer for a few moments before he lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as a wolfish grin decorates his handsome features. "i would not mind another demonstration, if you are still up for it?"

you gasp when you feel him suddenly growing inside of you, with him thrusting his hips once more as the red hot pleasure returns in full force, making you giggle as you eagerly lay back in bed with clive settled between your legs and hovering over you, ready to spend the next several hours loving you further as he showed no signs of stopping.

a.n. - it has been far too long since i wrote anything substantial for clive rosfield and posted it here. this story is to just show how truly attractive and irresistible this man is 🤭 this is unedited, but i hope you readers enjoy 🌌

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

#clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi x you #clive rosfield #.stories

[strawberrisncreme]

A Good Day

(Read on Ao3 HERE)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ff16 clive #ff16 #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #clive x reader #final fantasy #idk what im doing #rises from the dead #ambrosia #clive ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #clive x you #clive rosfield x you #are these enough tags yet

[drabblesandimagines]

Pining

Clive Rosfield x fem reader, based on this request. Angsty fluff, minor game spoilers.

-

You’d experienced a lot of hurt in your life.

It had hurt when, days after your 14th Name Day, you’d manifested magick without a crystal. Your father had marched you up to the constable’s office with no hesitation, your mother and sister at the door watching, but not protesting as you were dragged away. Your father wouldn’t even look at you as you sobbed, begging him to forgive you, that you didn’t mean it, but he was unmoved. The hurt of being so easily flung aside by people you thought were meant to love you unconditionally.

It had hurt when you’d been Branded a few days afterwards - strapped down to a table as a soldier had a hand grasped around your throat to keep you still, all whilst the Brand Master inked your skin. It was rare to awaken so late and they couldn’t risk losing such a healthy Bearer to the poisoned black carved into your skin, or so you’d overheard, so it was imperative you did not move. If your face wasn’t burning, your throat was from the taunting squeeze of your windpipe to keep you still.

It had hurt when a series of masters had worked you to the bone from the off. When they’d kicked, punched, whipped you for the days they felt you weren’t performing your best, that you were being lazy, not that you were drained of energy from a diet of scraps.

It had hurt knowing your life had a price, a physical amount of gil exchanged between hands, and one which lessened as you aged. It had hurt when your intoxicated master tried to flog you on the street to afford a few more pints of ale, until Cid came to your rescue.

It had hurt the day you’d had your Brand removed, despite the draught Tarja had you drink in preparation. The Brand removal was necessary when you joined the Cursebreakers – an unescorted Branded was too much of a target, after all. Tarja’s touch was gentle, her scalpel hand practiced and cautious, but it was never going to be pain-free.

All that hurt in your life, but this, you think - as you watch Clive and Jill deep in conversation, the way his eyes seem to light up when she places her hand on his arm - is the worst hurt of all.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Clive Rosfield. 

There had been many Bearers easy on the eye across the years, but romance was strictly forbidden. Being caught in too close proximity with one another was enough to warrant a beating in many master’s eyes, the guilty parties made example of so much that you didn’t even dare to dream of finding love.

Even after settling down in the Hideaway, you hadn’t thought of it…

Until Clive.

Somehow, over the years, he’d crept his way into your heart, slowly and cautiously, and you don’t know how he did, but he’s there now and it hurts.

You’d met Jill in the infirmary. You weren’t a physicker by any means, but Tarja said your gentle manner was ideal for comforting those who were in pain or sick, so you’d been helping out there when Jill was first brought in, clinging to life.

The two of you had become best friends almost instantly – helping someone in those early days of recovery bonds two like nothing else - and your friendship had only grown stronger over the years. It felt like having your sister back, the jokes and secrets once again shared as she taught you how to braid your hair. You’d sobbed for each other in her room one night - for lost childhoods, lost dreams, lost family.

Before any feelings towards Clive had begun to develop within you, you’d gently teased her about him – asking her if he was her suitor.

“Clive?” She smiled, stifling a laugh. “No, he’s practically my brother. I love him, but not like that.”

Being friends with Jill had led to being friends with Clive, naturally. There had been tears when they’d returned from Drake’s Head sans Cid after Titan’s attack on the Hideaway - tears in relief at each other’s safety and tears for those lost. You’d been one of the lucky ones, escaping with minimal injury and had immediately thrown yourself into helping find and build the new Hideaway on the blighted lake. There was always something to be done – endless carpentry work, covert supply runs, shifts in the infirmary, taking turns making big batches of stews before Molly stepped up to save everyone the stomach ache.

At the turn of the year in the new Hideaway, the ale had been flowing at the Tub & Crown – music playing away on the orchestrator in a rare night of celebration. There was still work to do – the base would require constant maintenance and expansion of course, and not to mention the issue of the Mothercrystals themselves – but the mood was joyful.

Otto had even asked Lady Charon for a dance, much to everyone’s amusement. Everyone had held their breath, bracing themselves for her quick-witted tongue, but Charon had shrugged and accepted his outstretched hand. As they waltzed, others begun to join them, and you watched with an enchanted smile on your face. It felt like almost something out of a fairytale. Gav soon approached your table and extended a hand to Jill in a flourish, she is soon whisked away into the fray, laughing as Gav definitely has two left feet.

An outstretched hand appears to your side.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” You turn to see Clive, not dressed in his full armour, just his white undershirt and leather breeches. He seems softer for it, more relaxed in casual attire for a change.

“I… I don’t know how, I’m afraid.” You shake your head at his offer – you were never a lady of the court after all. Not like Jill.

“I assure you I am very out of practice, so we’ll do fine together. Please?” It must be the ale, you think, as you relent and take his hand.

He pulls you to your feet with ease and escorts you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, placing his other hand on the small of your back and pulling you close.

“Just follow my lead – like our lessons in the pit.” He smiles, and your heart thuds.

You soon fall into the cautious rhythm – he steps forward, you step back. His eyes flick between yours and behind you, making sure you’re not going to collide into any of the other couples, particularly the enthusiastic Gav. Your face feels hot under Clive’s soft gaze. What is this feeling?

The music comes to an end too soon.

“Thank you, Clive.” You say, softly.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “My lady, the pleasure was mine.”

You stare at one another, perhaps a second too long, when there’s a loud crash – Gav has missed the stool in his eagerness to get back to his pint.

“Who moved my seat?!”

Laughter echo arounds the hall and the moment is lost then, but you remember it with a warm feeling in your stomach, a smile on your face as you drift off to sleep in your bed that day.

And the feeling only grows and grows…

--

A few months have passed since the turn of the year and life at the Hideaway remains busy – the Fallen relic constantly needs restructuring to accommodate new arrivals of freed Bearers after they had been nursed back to health in the infirmary, before you’d begin to assist them in adjusting to their new found freedom – albeit limited to the confines of the Hideaway - but freedom none-the-less.

Things have been somewhat different lately. Jill and Clive are often out on excursions together and when they are both back within the Hideaway, they have started to secrete themselves away on an evening to his chambers. It’s hard not to feel left out. Dominant business, you’d try to reassure yourself. A Bearer like yourself was nothing like the power an Eikon possessed. Jill doesn’t say what she’s been up to and you don’t pry, but she seems happier recently. Whenever you see her, she gets almost giggly, like she has a secret you’re not privy too.

And now, seeing the two of them sat at the table in the far corner, as if not to be disturbed, conferring closely, the physical contact, it becomes all too clear and it hurts.

“Gil for your thoughts, like?”

You jump at the sound of Gav’s voice and realise he’s stood right in front of you. You hadn’t even noticed him climbing the stairs, so fixated on the moment between Clive and Jill. You readjust the pile of books in your arms - Vivian had asked you to fetch a number of them from the shelves as she poured over the latest correspondences and, wanting to keep occupied, you had agreed.

“Oh.” You force a smile, though your heart is beating a mile a minute. “It’s nothing. I’m tired, I think.”

“That’s no surprise – you seem to be helping everyone at the moment.” He gestures to the books.

“I like to keep busy.”

At that moment, Jill lifts her hand from Clive’s arm and subtly gestures to you, but you keep your eyes focused on Gav. There’s a sweet smile on Clive’s face when he locates you with those kind blue eyes. He nods his head in acknowledgment, beckoning you over with his own hand.

It’s easier to pretend you haven’t seen the invite, that your eyes were fixed elsewhere.

There’s no fun in being a third wheel. You want to be happy for them, but there’s a horrible gnawing in your stomach, a constant lump in your throat. You’re jealous – you know it’s childish, pathetic, selfish behaviour and it hurts because you love Jill, you want her to be happy.

It’s easier to try and keep your distance, you conclude, and head out towards the map room, missing Jill’s puzzled expression and Clive’s crestfallen look.

--

The next day, they’d been embracing near the stairs to the side of the lift early afternoon – the very lift you needed to get in. Eyes cast down, task in mind, you tried to walk past unnoticed.

“..I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jill.”

The stabbing pain in your chest intensifies as you overhear so you quicken your pace, thinking you’ll get in and hit the lever without notice, but Jill steps in front of you, a warm smile on her face as always.

“There you are. We’ve been looking for you all over.”

“Can’t stop,” the lie comes easy, a false smile plastered on your face in return. “Tarja needs more herbs for the infirmary, so I’m heading to the mainland.”

“Well, allow me to accompany you.” Clive steps forward.

“No need. Cole’s waiting at the dock already for me.” You reply, stepping around Jill and backwards into the lift, slamming the lever with a little more force than strictly necessary.

--

No-one wants your help today. It’s odd. You’ve been round the Hideaway twice making sure no jobs had popped up since you’d last enquired. Despite everything seeming as busy as usual, everyone reassures you with various iterations of, “All’s in hand, thank you. Why don’t you take the day off?”

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you’d retreated to the solar you shared with Jill. It’s close quarters, true, but enough for two beds and a small dresser, holding a mirror. When Jill hadn’t been away from the Hideaway, you’d taken to getting up early and retiring late, making sure you could only exchange pleasantries about your days – you worried any prolonged interaction would cause your façade to crack. You love her, you should be happy for her, but you’re worried jealousy might poison your words.

You look in the mirror, your eyes immediately drawn to your Brand scar. Jill is a proper lady – elegant, poised, a Dominant, her cheeks smooth and unmarred. They’re perfect together. Why can’t your heart catch up with your head?

The door opens. Jill walks in, pausing as she places her hands on her hips as if she’s caught you in the act of something.

“Come on, out with it.”

“Out with what?” You feign ignorance.

“You’ve been avoiding me for days.”

“No, I haven’t.” You sit down on the bed, picking at a loose thread on the sheet. You should take it to Hortense. “Just busy. You know how it is.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar.” She chides, sitting down on her own bed. “Please. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” You smile, trying your best to make sure it reaches your eyes under her scrutinizing gaze. “No need to fuss.”

“You rise early, retire late – you’re burning yourself out.”

“It’s not every day. Besides…” jealousy tinges your tone - your will weakened by heartache and tiredness, “..you’ve been away with Clive so much of late, or in his chambers, you wouldn’t know.”

Jill stares at you for a moment, before her eyes widened in realization. “Clive and I-“

You get to your feet, your eyes burning, you can’t hear it out loud. “I’ve got to go.” And you run as if an Eikon was at your heels.

--

You’re sat at the edge of the a partially constructed platform towards the back of the Hideaway that was slowly being expanded. They hadn’t got much further than increasing the floorspace, but you dangled your legs off the side, watching the waters lap below and let the tears flow at last.

A wet nose nuzzles at your arm, a soft whine.

“Hello, Torgal.” Your voice thick with tears, you rub his soft ears. He accepts your attentions for a moment before he softly trots away as quick as he came, cementing your pitiful mood.

A few minutes pass before you hear footsteps approach.

“Good boy, Torgal.” Clive praises his faithful wolf and you freeze. You can’t run away this time – the only exit being the waters below.

“Torgal kindly helped me to find your hiding place.”

You rub your face with the heel of your hand but you worry it’s too late, that your voice is going to give you away. “Surely everyone hides in a hideaway.” Your attempt at a light-hearted tone sounds a little too forced through the tightness in your throat.

“True.” Hesitation. “May I?”

“O-of course.” You dig your fingernails into your palm, hoping to gain composure as Clive sits down besides you. There isn’t a lot of space on the ledge you had chosen, his knee knocking into yours as he sits.

“We’ve missed your company of late. I hear you’ve been assisting almost everyone here.”

“Always something to do.” You shrug, keeping your eyes fixed on your boots. “Though no-one seemed to want me today.”

“Ah, that was my doing. I asked them for respite – you’ve been working hard.”

“Oh.” Your heart is hammering at the proximity between the two of you. Can he hear it?

“Have I… offended you in some way?” He sounds nervous.

“Not at all.”

“You seem unable to meet my eyes recently.”

You know you should look at him then, to suggest he’s wrong, but they still sting with tears and you don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want his pity. You can’t answer.

Clive continues. “You seem to avoid me at all costs. Jill believes so too. She says you’re early to rise and late to bed, constantly on the move.”

“There’s just a lot to do.”

“You do not have to do it all.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Says you.”

Another pause.

“Please...” His voice cracks ever so slightly with his request. “Look at me.”

You wish on Metia for strength – you feel he’d stay here all night if he must – and turn. The tell-tale tears on your cheeks highlighted in the moon’s glow.

He looks crestfallen, his hand twitches in his lap – he wants to brush away the tears. “I’ve upset you.”

You shake your head, averting your gaze again. “You haven’t.”

“What troubles you, then?”

“I…” You swallow. “I want something.”

“Then you shall have it.” Clive states, confidently. “After all, you do so much for the Hideaway and everyone in it. All you need to do is ask.”

“No. I… I want something I cannot have.”

“I don’t know about that. We destroyed a Mothercrystal.”

“No, it isn't like that. I really cannot have this.”

“Tell me - please. I cannot stand to see you this way a moment longer.” He places his hand on yours as he leans in – it can’t be deliberate. “I will do whatever it takes to see you smile again.”

A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill and you turn your head in towards your shoulder. It is only there for a moment when fingers grasp your chin so gently, tilting it back towards him and forcing you to meet those blue eyes once more.

“Please.”

You can’t refuse him any longer. The vortex of emotions inside is too much. Maybe - maybe - if you let it out, you could try and move on than wallow forever more in this hole of self-pity.

“I want you.”

He blinks, his expression unchanged. Your heart is beating too fast, you feel sick, things will never be the same again-

His lips are on yours. Clive Rosfield is kissing you. You’re too stunned to reciprocate for a second, but then you pull back, looking alarmed.

“But Jill…“

“What about Jill?” His tone is one of confusion.

“You’re with Jill.”

“I am not." He looks almost amused. "I care for her, true, but as a sister.”

“But the two of you… I’ve seen you. Secret conversations at all hours and…”

“We were talking about you.” Clive looks embarrassed. “I… I felt unable to express my intentions. Jill was determined to give me encouragement. I’ve been trying to get a moment with you all week.”

Your heart is skipping in a confusing way. “Your intentions?”

“You consume my thoughts when you are in and out of sight. I don’t know how you did it. You have been a constant by my side these last few years and I feel myself yearn more for you every passing day.” He places a hand on your cheek. “I was becoming insufferable away from the Hideaway with my talk of you, or so Jill claims.”

Your face is burning red at his sweet words, his soft touch upon your face, the admiration in his eyes. He leans forward again, his lips pressed against yours gently at first as you fall into a clumsy rhythm – both shy and a little unsure at first.

His teeth nip your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so your tongues intertwine. You place your hand on his chest – something you’ve only ever dreamed of – and he wraps you up in his arms, pulling you close, kissing you as if he needs it to live.

Clive pulls back, allowing the two of you to catch your breath, before he smiles at you.

“You don’t need to be in want of me, my darling, for I am already yours.”

-

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield x female reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield fluff #clive rosfield #ff16 x reader #reader requests

[iliektehhaxs]

Spoken Beneath the Stars

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader (AFAB, female pronouns. no Y/N) Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Word Count: 6.5k words Summary: After sleeping with Clive things become tense, and you want answers, even if he doesn't want to give them. Warnings: Unprotected sex, varying levels of angst, fluff. Read on AO3! Author's Note: This took me far too long to make, almost two months! This story is a continuation of a previous fic that can also be read by itself, but I highly recommend you read the first part on ao3 or tumblr!

When you two laid atop each other you wondered what would become of your relationship. Naked as the day you were born, both covered in a sheen of sweat. Worse for wear, you raise a hand to push Clive’s messy hair from his eyes. Speechless, breathless, wanting to say everything and nothing all at the same time. You part your lips, voice hoarse from overuse, but whatever you want to say becomes lost on your tongue. What could you even say? Clive seems to be going through the same internal turmoil. Staring intently where the two of you are joined, sweat rolling down his brow. His eyes move up to your own, and you don’t remember them being so expressive, bright and full of life. What felt like eons lost in each other’s presence was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. “Clive, you in there mate?” said a familiar voice. “Otto’s been looking for you, said he needs to have a chat!” All of a sudden that unknown emotion leaves his eyes. “I’ll be right down Gav,” he says, still looking at your pliant body below him. “Just give me a moment to clean up.” A hum, followed by the sound of Gav’s footsteps moving farther away. The room is now silent, uncomfortably so. He unsheathes himself from your warm heat with a groan, running his hand from your stomach to your chest with splayed fingers before pulling away. Almost as if your touch would burn his very skin. “Are you alright?” he asks. He doesn’t look at you when he does. You wish he did. “I’ll be fine…” You trail off, still admiring the hard lines of his body. “Are you…alright?” Clive huffs, rummages through a drawer to find a clean cloth for you. “I’m fine.” His tone is clipped. He still doesn’t look at you. He gently wipes around your sex, removing the evidence of what you two have just done. It doesn’t remove the ache that persists in your legs, or the fingerprints that linger against your hips. A hard stare, and then he leaves to dress himself. You move on shaky legs, grabbing your clothes off the floor before attempting to correct yourself, chancing a glance in his direction. Clive faces away from you, and by the time you manage to somewhat smooth your hair there's a dull noise behind you. A creak, followed by the sound of a door closing. You turn around to find yourself alone, without so much as a goodbye, and your heart shatters.

You almost regret having sex with him, often wondering if life would be easier if you didn’t. Doubt clouds your thoughts ever since, that it was your fault, that you had done something wrong to offend him. Maybe your words had been too harsh.

You told the man that one of his closest friends would be ashamed of him, that he’d died for nothing. The anger that radiated off him, his words in your ear, almost as if he was a different person, someone cruel and sadistic—

You wouldn’t be surprised if he never spoke a word to you ever again. At the very least it managed to get the message across, he hadn’t been throwing himself into danger nearly as much as he did before. In exchange, your relationship was now strained, pulled taut until it frayed at the edges and threatened to break. You had crossed a line, and this was your punishment. Every time you entered a room he had a new excuse, yesterday it was training, the day before he had to help Martha reclaim some stolen goods. Today he took a sudden leave to go on a hunt, grabbing a mark off the billboard before you could even get a word in. He was avoiding you, and it hurt. Like a dagger twisting its way through your very being, the metaphorical ichor staining your skin red. You missed him, missed how you would sit by the docks at night and count the stars, missed how you could see his smile grow ever brighter when you’d recount the different constellations. “My little astrologer,” He would call you, under the light of the moon. It reminded you of the Sanbreque monarchy, so in turn you had asked him:

“If I am your astrologer, would that make you my Lord?”

If it were anyone else he would deny his status, but to you, he simply smiled.

But there was none of that anymore. You had practically become strangers in the span of a day. You can still feel his touch, a brand, hot against your skin. When you lay at night you can still hear every last sentence of filth he whispered into your ear, how he pressed himself against you and relished in how your body reacted. “Let me see more of you,” He groaned against your skin. “Show me how desperate you are.”Pathetic of you, to crave the very thing that broke you apart. Haunting, in the best kind of way. You had no one to blame but yourself.

Walking past the forge, you see Clive engaged in conversation with Blackthorne, seemingly asking for a favor. You’re not quite sure why, but your ears trained in on the conversation. He needed materials, some kind of ore, but it was a two person job and Jill was away on her own errand and Gav was out scouting. As per usual, Clive made it his duty to help his fellow man in need, much to Blackthorne’s annoyance. “You don’t think I can manage by myself?” He half-joked, a smile on his lips. Blackthorne, stone-faced as ever, was unyielding, hammering away at whatever item he was crafting that day. “For all your talents, you are still just one man. Asking you to gather the materials required is too much for just you alone.” You’re not quite sure what possessed you, but you felt your voice rise before your brain could rationalize. “I can go.” A step forward, revealing your location. “Well if it isn’t our resident advisor!” Blackthorne greets you, still pounding away. “You know just when to show up, don’t you?” You take his compliment with a smile, moving further into the forge, next to Clive. He barely acknowledges you, a curt nod in your direction. You ignore him in return, focusing on the iron smith. “I heard a little bit, seems like you need two pairs of hands and well, I was getting a little bored sitting around.” You add. A pleased grunt escapes him. “Just so. Well, guess that solves our problem then.” He turns towards Clive, hammer pointed at him. “You can explain on the way, you two have fun.” You nearly scoff, biting the side of your cheek to stop yourself. About as fun as a morbol attack. You would hope that Clive would at least talk to you but he walks away in silence, making his way towards the boats. You run after him, hot behind his tail. “Clive!” You call out, but he stares straight ahead, not hesitating for a second. “He only stops his stride when you grab him by the arm, refusing to let go. “Can you at least let me get a word in before you run off?” You ask annoyed. He still doesn’t look at you, but at least he doesn’t move away. “What’s gotten into you? It’s been a week and you haven’t said a word, not even so much as a hello!” He stares at the floor, but he answers you at the very least. “I’m not quite sure what there is to say.” Ah, there it is. The elephant in the room.You still hold onto his arm, uncertain he won’t run away the moment you don’t. “Listen, if this is about our talk in the solar—” He’s quick to respond, turning around fully to look at you. His eyes close, and then—“We shouldn’t have.” You ignore how your heart drops at his words, the shame hanging over your head. “And yet, we did.” You stare at each other, unwavering. It’s Clive who breaks first, freeing his arm from your grasp and turning back towards the docks. “We should focus on the task at hand,” he mutters, before walking ahead. There isn’t a single word in the dictionary that can describe how you feel right now. Anguish? Rage? Regret? Maybe if you asked Tomes he’d have an answer, he was always more eloquent than you.

As you step on the boat, you watch the water ripple below, unable to look at Clive.

The trip was filled with riveting silence, but if Clive wasn’t willing to speak with you then you weren’t willing to chase him. Even as you entered the cave Clive was tight-lipped, only telling you the essentials of your exploration. The metal was rare, being re-discovered by Tomes by chance. Hard as anything, he told Mid in hopes that it would suit her ship-in-progress. 

As he told you the importance of it you found yourself slightly less annoyed, at the very least the thought of helping Mid made the trip more bearable. After a short walk through green pastures Clive leads you towards a cave, where your mission begins. Tools in hand, he gets to work without so much as a warning, retreating farther into the cave and leaving you to your own thoughts. Defeated, you pick up your own pair and get to work.

A small part of you hoped that being so close together would allow for some kind of interaction. A small, naive part of you wanted to believe you could fix this, whatever this was. There’s a wall to be scaled between you and Clive, but you don’t know where to begin.

You two work for hours, the sound of footsteps and banging your only comfort. By the time you sit down for a break the horizon is outlined in the slightest hint of orange. 

“How’s your search gone so far?” You shout, opening a canteen of water. Clive emerges from the darkness, sack in hand. “Got quite the haul.” He huffs, barely breaking a sweat. “And you?” You point to your own filled sack beside you, not as full as his own. You drink greedily until you can no longer, not realizing how thirsty you were until water passed between your lips. He sits farther away and counts his inventory, nodding in satisfaction. A nudge, and you look down to see Torgal nuzzling against your leg, big eyes staring up at you. You reach down to pet his head, enjoying how soft his fur is between your fingers. “At least you don’t hate me boy,” You whisper, watching his tail wag back and forth. “This should be enough,” Clive says, tying off his share. “We should leave before the sun sets.”

A noise of agreement leaves you, still drinking away. Suddenly Torgal rises from between your legs, staring at something before baring his teeth. You put your hands up, worried that you may have offended him somehow until you hear the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

There should be no large animals this far out. Rabbits, birds, creatures of that ilk, but nothing large enough to make a noise that big. You must be hearing things, right? A glance in Clive’s direction and his brow is furrowed in concern. He heard it too. You put your canteen away, pretending as if nothing has happened. In reality you’ve already placed a steady hand on your sheath, poised to draw.

As if on cue, a man jumps from the same bush you heard the noise, followed by several more. Bandits, and a lot of them at that. Black clothes and tattered rags, the thieves begin to circle the two of you, eyes focused on your bags lying on the grass. “Well now, I have to thank you two kindly,” the first one says, words dripping with malicious intent. “Seems you’ve made our jobs much easier. Hand over your goods and we’ll let you leave with all your limbs intact, as a show of good faith.” Several of his men laugh behind him; Even the most gullible man could tell that he’s full of shit. You stand up, hands wrapped around your sword. Clive is much less optimistic, drawing it from his back the moment they revealed themselves. “And what if we don’t agree to your deal?” He asks, guarded. Torgal growls at your side, ready to strike. The bandits don’t take his words kindly, stepping forward as the leader shakes his head. “I was in a good mood, but it seems you’d rather die for some rocks.” He leers at you for a moment and smiles, something crooked and sinister. “At the very least we can take the girl with us after we leave your body to the wolves. A pretty thing like her will certainly be in high demand.” Clive moves forward, the smallest lick of flames leaving his body. Whatever mercy he had before is long gone now, replaced with rage. 

“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do.” he hissed.

Surprised at the ferocity in his voice, you unsheathe your sword beside him, preparing for a fight. “If you think I’ll let you get close enough to try, you’re mistaken.” He laughs like a hyena, far too relaxed for someone who’s about to come to a very rude awakening. “Kill the man and the dog, but try not to bruise the girl too much. I want her in working condition.” A wave of his hand and his fellow men come barreling down the field, weapons in hand. Clive moves first, followed by Torgal and then you, dispatching each new bandit swiftly. To say a fight took place would be a gross over-exaggeration. Under Clive’s experienced blade they had no chance, each falling one by one with little effort. You’ve seen Clive fight before, calculating and tactful. He wields a sword as if it were an extension of his own arm rather than a tool. This was not that. The ferocity of his strikes, the swiftness of it was something you hadn’t seen before. You think back to what the leader had said, about what he would do to you, and the way his eyes immediately flared open, teeth bared. Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do.

It seems the threat had struck a chord.

In your moment of weakness a hand grabs you by the shoulders, tackling you to the ground with a cry. You hear Clive shout your name, but he’s occupied with another lackey rushing towards him. You struggle, knocking away his knife and letting your fist meet his nose with a satisfying crunch. He falls over,  red dripping across his face as you reach for your sword to deal the final blow. You don’t get the chance however, before Clive dashes towards you in a flash of orange. “Get away from her, you bastard!” He shouts. The leader has no time to react before Clive’s sword finds its mark, directly between his ribcage.

If you thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to now. A snarl stretches across his face, animalistic, bloodied. Heaving, he watches the man die with a sick satisfaction, an orange glow in his eyes. Ifrit’s glow.

After witnessing what became of their leader the rest of the surviving men flee from the scene. You push yourself from the grass, making your way to Clive’s hunched form. “Clive?” You ask, concerned. He doesn’t look at you, still staring at the body in front of him. “Clive.” You repeat. Still no response. Tentatively you place a hand on his arm, heat exuding from him in waves. “Clive, he’s dead. You can relax now.” It’s almost as if your voice wakes him from his trance, body slowly unwinding. He lets out a breath, and the familiar blue of his eyes return once more. He turns to you frantically, eyes scanning your body with worry. “Are you hurt? Did he harm you in any way?” There's a panic to his voice, one that you quickly dispel with a shake of your head. “I’m fine Clive, really,” You reassure him, moving your arms as proof. “See? Nothing out of place.” His mouth opens, closes again. His hands still sit at your shoulders, as if you would dissipate if he let you go. He fixes you with a worried look, still searching for any injuries.

You try to ease the tension with a smile, wiping away some blood from his face. “Quite protective of me, aren’t you? That was some strength you displayed.” Your words catch him off guard for a moment before he lets out a chuckle, the slightest pangs of worry still evident in his tone. “Is that so bad?” You think for a moment, and shake your head. “Not at all.”

Poking at his chest playfully, you continue. “You’re like my own personal shield. It’s endearing.”

A half-hearted chuckle escapes him, his gaze never faltering from you. 

This is familiar, you think, this back and forth. It feels natural. 

A bark interrupts you, breaking your concentration. Torgal nosed up towards the sky, that bright orange now a dull shade of red, the sun nearly disappearing over the horizon. How long were you fighting for? Clive noticed the darkening sky as well, annoyance written on his face. “We won’t be able to find a boatsman at this time of day.” “There’s a town not too far off from here,” you suggest. “They should have an inn last I checked.”

“Then it’s settled.” He says, grabbing the sacks of ore and recounting, making sure nothing was lost. When he’s satisfied he slings them over his shoulder in a strong grip, turning towards you. “Lead the way.”

You walk side by side, the sun setting in the distance. While you lead Clive is right at your side, scouting for any more surprises that may be lurking in the shadows.

It feels nice to be cared for, or it would had it not been for his earlier behavior. Hours before he would rather do anything besides talk to you, and now it’s as if he’s an entirely new person.

A bag of gil is exchanged between Clive and the innkeeper before the two of you make your way upstairs, Torgal sleeping outside of the building. You’re greeted with wooden walls with a clean interior, two beds and plain white sheets, freshly changed. For what the price is, the room is surprisingly well-kept.

The exhaustion doesn’t catch up with you until you see the bed, your limbs turning to jelly. Soft and inviting, you drop your goods on the floor, falling into the sheets unceremoniously. “I will never go mining ever again.” You say, voice muffled. You hear Clive’s heavy footsteps stop behind you. “You seem rather comfortable.” He muses. You hear something heavy fall to the ground, more than likely his share of today’s work. A groan escapes you, flopping over to lay on your back. “So do you. How the hells are you still standing?”

“Back breaking labor is not a foreign concept to me.” He says, removing his armor. “If it helps I much rather do this than fight monsters.” You peek at him, but turn your eyes away. Every piece removed is another expanse of skin exposed, left only in his tunic and pants, which invites memories you’d rather not think of at the moment.

“Really now?” You lift yourself slightly, sarcasm thick in your voice. “I would’ve thought you’d love to fight morbols all day and night.” The name makes him wrinkle his face in disgust. “That’s a terrible joke.”

You laugh, falling back into the pillows. “I’ll make sure not to make it again.” It’s a lie and you both know it. The air is quiet for a bit, simply enjoying each other's presence. Calm, serene. A fond smile appears on your face. “Do you remember when we used to stay up late by the docks, counting stars?”

He looks towards the window and nods. “I do. We’d often wake up on the floor, Obolus was less than pleased.”

You giggle, the image of the elderly man greeting you with the light of the sun more than humorous. “Mm, said we were making an inn of his business.”

A huff of air escapes Clive, fully settling into the side of the mattress. “In all fairness wooden floorboards make for an awful bedspread, so I suppose we learned our lesson.”

You laugh, and Clive smiles. It’s the first time he’s done so the whole day. You’d almost forgotten what it looks like.

After your laughter subsides you turn to him playfully. “Want to do it again? Like old times?”

“What?” He asks, looking at you up and down. “Hardly the best spot to star-gaze.”

You nod in agreement. “But if not here, then where else?”

He blinks at you, once, twice, and then turns himself to face the small window. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

You’re both facing the small opening, you leaning against the windowsill on your elbows, head in your hands as you watch the small white lights shine high in the sky. You feel the bed sink beside you, Clive moving closer, watching your mesmerized expression.

Your finger taps against the window. “There, see that? That one’s said to help you when you’re lost. Tomes called it Polaris, the northern star.” “And that one, over there!” You point off far away, following the line of twinkling lights. “That one’s Apus, the bird of paradise.” You list off multiple constellations, rambling away to your heart's desire. You occasionally check in with Clive to see if you’ve bored him, but he’s content to sit back and listen to you. Soon enough you’ve tired yourself, watching the skies above in peace.

“What’s wrong?” He questions you. “You’ve gone silent.”

The moonlight shines through the small window. You smile in remembrance, this atmosphere. It reminds you of what it used to be.

You sigh wistfully. “What happened to us?”

He stiffens at your side, suddenly uncomfortable. “You already know the answer to that—“

“Do I now?” You interrupt. The room is silent, save for the sound of your heart beating in your chest. 

You press your hand on top of his. “Tell me then. What happened?”

His eyes don’t meet yours.

“It’s complicated—“

“Then uncomplicate it.” You interrupt. He doesn’t answer, choosing to focus on your hand on his.

“Listen, I know you might regret our…” you hesitate, gauging his reaction. “...rendezvous, but I would at least like to think we’re still friends, so talk to me. Please.”

His eyes dart back and forth, between you and the fingers currently drumming along his skin.

“I…” He pauses, as if to find the right words. “I don’t. I don’t regret it at all.”

“Then why pretend like it never happened?”

“....”

“Why, Clive?” Your fingers curl around his own, gingerly. 

“I don’t know.” He sighs. “Fear, maybe.”

“Fear of what?”

He doesn’t say anything, so you repeat yourself, pleading. “Please, don’t shut me out.”

A loud silence fills the air.

“Clive…“

His lips press together, struggling to answer. He sits like that for a while, before opening his mouth.

“I had hoped that by avoiding the topic we could still be friends, that I wouldn’t ruin what we had.” He chuckles dryly. “But it seems I’ve already done that.”

“Ruin? Clive—“ You begin, stopped by his fingers curling against your own.

“Allow me to finish.” He adds before continuing. “I was selfish. I let my desires control me; I took advantage of you and for that, I apologize, if you’re willing to accept it.”

You sit, stunned into silence at his confession.

“Took advantage?” You utter, shaking your head. “Clive, I can assure you that you did nothing to me that I wasn’t a willing participant to. If anything, I’m sorry for saying that stuff about you and Cid.”

A shake of his head. “It still didn’t warrant my…response.” He replies, the makings of a blush spreading on his face. 

His behavior for the past week makes sense now. He wasn’t avoiding you out of hatred, he was afraid, afraid of what you might have thought of him. You almost laugh at the misunderstanding. For all his talents, he can be denser than a brick.

“Clive, look at me.”

He lifts his head reluctantly, put slightly at ease when he witnesses your tender expression. “Yes?”

You squeeze his hand. “I don’t hate you.”

There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice. “You don’t?”

“Am I annoyed that you chose to hide from me instead of talking? Yes.” You move closer to him, knees brushing against his own. “But I don’t hate you Clive. Not one bit.”

He finally returns your gesture, bringing your hand towards him, lips pressed against your digits to whisper into your skin, eyes closed. “Thank you.”

Your face heats up at the action, focused on how warm his hands are compared to yours. Perks of being a Dominant, you suppose, before his smooth voice brings your attention back to him.

“May I…tell you something?”

A nod. “Of course you can.”

He’s put at ease, but still visibly nervous. “When I saw you in that field, being attacked…I didn’t know what to do. It hurt me like nothing else to see you at the mercy of that man.”

He stares up at you, eyes full of longing. “Words, actions, nothing imaginable could describe how much I care for you, and it scares me, shakes me to my very being. The thought of you getting hurt because of me is…” 

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but you know. You can see it in his eyes.

Voice wavering, he speaks. “You are a beacon, my guiding light, and I’m afraid of what would happen if that light were to be snuffed out by me.”

You can’t help but gasp at the confession. He bares himself to you, exposed. You can feel the emotion, the charged air between the two of you not unlike levin.

“It wouldn’t.” You whisper. “You wouldn’t let it.” 

He lets your hand fall, before staring at the wall solemn. “There was a time where I would believe you.”

Sagging shoulders, the shadow of death across his face. It hangs over him, heavy. “You deserve a man who will give you the world, and I’m afraid that I can’t give you that.”

Your gaze softened at his words. “Clive…”

You’re not quite sure what to say. In the end, you decide that actions proved more effective than words. You pull your hand away, and before he can protest you cradle his head, lips joined together.

Is this the first time you’ve kissed him? It feels like heaven.

Soft, and warm, he freezes, then moves against you, as if on instinct. They move against your own, uncertain, clumsy. You don’t mind it at all.

You pull away and he protests, a small noise escaping him, unwilling to leave your embrace. Your forehead rests against his, eyes gazing at what feels like his soul, prettier than all the stars in the sky. Reflective pools of blue, overshadowed by the stretch of black that overtakes them.

And then you gasp, sweet, saccharine. “You are my world, you bloody fool.” 

Dazed, enamored, he doesn’t take his eyes away from you for even a moment.

“You…do you mean that?” He asks, hands hovering at your sides. He won’t touch you, not until he hears you say it, one more time.

You shake your head, lips coming to barely graze his own. “If you think there is any universe where I am not hopelessly, madly in love with you, Clive Rosfield, then you are severely mistaken.”

He’ll die the happiest man in Valisthea at this rate. You can finally identify the emotion swimming in his eyes. Love. Pure and unbridled.

“Yes, I am,” He pulls you further, ever closer towards him, placing you in his lap with little effort. “I am a fool for denying myself of your presence—“

His thoughts are interrupted by the taste of your lips, focused on how warm and soft you feel against him. He simply melts at your touch, fingers pressing at your sides, pawing at your body desperately.

“You are—“ you gasp. In the little time it takes for you to respond he latches onto your neck, working at leaving a mark against your skin. “—so you better make up for it, my lord.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a second, smiling against your skin. “Of course, my little astrologer.”

Pressed together in each other’s embrace, unwilling to separate for even a moment. You’re like a drug, an addiction he could never hope to rid himself of. Closer and closer, your fingers make a home of his tunic, tracing the hard muscle that lies underneath. You feel his chest rise and fall, his breath stuttering when you grind into his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he whines into your open mouth, hands splayed at your sides. You mumble an apology as well, a whisper spoken between his lips. 

His tunic is the first to leave, followed by your pants. A kiss, and then another; More and more follow, a confidence surging through him with every press, dragging you back down so his hardness can push against your waiting heat.

It’s good, but not enough, not nearly enough. It’s no surprise when your fingers move down Clive’s pants, pulling him free. So close and yet so far, the head catches against your clit and your eyes roll back. Again and again, you rock against him until it becomes too much to bear—

He inhales sharply when you mount him without warning, grits his teeth and forces his hips to still. Eyes closed you fall further, inch by inch until you feel him press into your deepest parts, feel him throb inside you.

“Founder, you feel so good—” He hisses, mouthes against your skin.

This isn’t the first you’ve felt so full, but it’s different now. Less aggressive, more loving. He waits for you, doesn’t make a single move until you’ve decided you’re ready and only then does he indulge.

Chest to chest, you glide yourself against his cock, desperation spilling out from your very being. A frantic rhythm encouraged by Clive’s hands against your rear, digits digging into your skin, pushing you closer and closer. 

Up, down, up, down. Your thighs burn with exhaustion but you can’t bring yourself to stop, not when he looks up at you like that, like a goddess.

He bites at the skin of your neck, groans when your moans fill his ears. He meets your every move, holds you tight when you shiver, fucks you harder when you cry his name. A sensual pace that slowly becomes more erratic.

A pull, and your tunic is removed unceremoniously, his gaze following every curve of your chest. He leans forward, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“May I?” He heaves desperately.

A nod, and his lips attach to your nipples, eyes closed in bliss.

He buries his face, bites at the sensitive nubs before soothing the ache against his tongue. Your hand rests in his hair, encouraging, begging.

Entangled in each other, little is said beyond hushed whispers and reverent moans. The air is heady with your combined need.

He didn’t know how badly he needed this, needed you. Lips pushed apart, sharing your moans as he felt himself meeting your every movement, chasing after a high only you could provide. This desire thrums beneath his skin, a heat that flows through him, unending. It appeals to his base instincts, an internal struggle. 

He wants to hold you close, taste the sweat of your skin against his lips, share in your pleasure; He wants to drive you wild, pin you beneath him until you cry out his name, fuck you within an inch of your life.

Every kiss feeds the former, every touch feeds the latter. Caught between the middle, Clive settles between your thighs, and takes what he needs with a hiss of your name.

Barely clothed, you feel a familiar pressure build at your core, thighs shaking at his sides. “Clive.”A guttural noise leaves him, an understanding shared through touch. He places a firmer grip on your hips, the slick of your pussy spurring him on, muttering at your collarbone. “Come for me my love, let me feel it.” You cry out his name, legs locking themselves around his hips, shaking against his body. The force of it nearly hurts, only overshadowed by a blinding pleasure that courses through your veins. 

Your release is soaked into the sheets, leaving a mess where your bodies join. The sight of you is mesmerizing, eyes closed in bliss, your thighs stained in your juices. Panting, your skin glistening with sweat, and yet you stare at him with longing even as your eyes glaze over.

Something snaps in Clive, his grip firm as he plunges back into your waiting heat, the snap of your bodies colliding feeding the beast within.

You cry, collapse into his chest, arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Clive, I can’t—“ Another thrust and your vision turns while, holding on for dear life.

“Yes you can,” He growls, a hidden message underlying in his words. 

Of course you can, you’ve already done so before. 

The tone is familiar, his touch, the way he drills his cock into you like a man starved, all calling back to that fateful day in the solar. It's a feeling of complete bliss; united, two parts of a whole. Clive's grip on your body is now as tight as it can get, his fingers moving to hold your hips, your thighs, anywhere he can touch. The pressure of his grip is nearing pain, but it only drives you wild with lust. 

It's all he knows in this moment, the heat of you, the noise of your cries in perfect harmony with the obscene sounds of your cunt. His body moves in perfect rhythm with yours, the pace quickening. 

Clive's breath, hoarse and ragged, punctuates each of his own muffled moans. “Tell me you want this,” he begs, voice almost breaking in anguish. “Tell me you want me, I need to hear you—“

He swallows your moans greedily, his kiss sloppy and unrefined, chasing after his own high. You fare no better, nails leaving angry red lines against his back. 

Speared on his cock, at the mercy of Clive. Unable to hold back your noises, you moan freely, uncaring if anyone listens.

“I want you, I want you—“ Your words jumble together, breathless. “I need you Clive.”

Every word is punctuated by a gasp, nails scratching down Clive’s back in pleasure. 

His entire being is on edge, not a thought in his head save for how slick your pussy feels around him, pulsing deliciously. The sounds you make, your face, how you squirm on top of him, it’s all too much for him to take.

His movements become more aggressive, animalistic in his drive. He wants to consume you, devour you whole, and you love it. From his bruising grip to the marks against your skin, he possesses you, both body and soul.

Tears brim your eyes, every fiber of your being focused solely on the heat consuming you. It almost hurts to speak, your breath punched out of you every time you bounce on his lap.

In a single breath you cry out sweetly. “Please make me come, please—“

“Yes, yes, yes,” Clive’s lips find their way back to yours, his voice rough when he pulls away. “I will, my love.”

He moves even faster, the pace brutal. He shifts his body and now you’re completely beneath him, his weight both suffocating and welcome, his head resting next to yours. The new angle lets him find that soft spot within you, taking advantage of it until your back arches from the sheets. 

He coos tenderly into your ear, a contrast to the strong force of his hips. “I’m going to fill you up, make you mine.”

His words strike you like a dagger, and you lose yourself, completely lost in the swell of desire. Your voice echoes against the four walls, unashamed of your volume.

Clive's face is flushed red with a mixture of effort and pleasure, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he struggles to retain his sanity. He moans your name, his eyes finding yours, and the look in them tells you he doesn’t want this moment to end.

His eyes are pleading. The sensation of you around him makes it so hard to focus on anything but this moment. "Founder help me, you feel fucking divine—"

Another gasp of your name and his fingers press against your clit, moving in circles. “I need to come, need you to come with me—“

You whimper, eyes not leaving his for a second, unable to look away from the beautiful sight. “Yes, come inside me Clive, want to feel you—“

A grunt, and then his head falls into the crook of your neck, impossibly close. "I love you," Clive whispers, lips pressing against your ear. “Tell me you love me too.”

A command, both demanding and vulnerable, one you obey without a second thought.

“Gods, I love you,” You cry, trembling. “I love you, I love you, please—!”

You’re reduced to whispers of his name, fingers caressing his hair, the desperate grind of his cock inside your heat driving you insane.

The feeling of him emptying himself inside you is like the world exploding, the pleasure all-encompassing. The whole world disappears for the both of you, lost in each other. He collapses against you, lazily kissing anywhere he can reach, the both of you exhausted.

You can take the time to study him now, details you couldn’t afford to see before. The scars that line his skin, the freckles scattered across his body, not unlike constellations. You map out each mark under your hands, taste the sweat that clings to his skin, inhale his scent. Clive lets you explore him freely, reveling in the attention. 

“Have I ever told you you’re beautiful?” You sigh, thumb tracing the lines against his cheek. 

Bashful, he leans into your touch. “I don’t believe you have.”

“I’ll make sure to tell you every day.” You chuckle softly. It’s a promise, one you’ll be sure to keep.

A while passes, the two of you tangled together. Eventually he lifts his head, sees the marks littered against your skin, the indents shaped in the image of his fingers. You watch as his face scrunches up in concern before bringing his hand towards you.

“Don't look at me like that,” you chuckle softly. “I’m fine. Better than fine, actually.” Clive raises an eyebrow at the smile forming on your face.

“Is there something I’m missing?” He huffs, focused on your ever-growing smile.

“No, not at all.” You giggle. “Just a familiar view is all.”

Confusion written on his face, it takes him a moment to realize before he starts blushing. “So it is.”

Your laughter increases, bringing him closer to your face. “Mhm, history tends to repeat itself.”

His beard tickles as he kisses your face. “I should hope that it continues to repeat.”

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi smut #final fantasy 16 #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield smut #angst with a happy ending #robo writes

[tharmrs]

{ more than ever }

// more than ever i see the real you, and it surrounds //

| clive rosfield x fem.reader |

summary: where clive comforts his love in her time of need.

word count: 767

the soft sounds of crying were all clive rosfield could hear when he was suddenly roused from his deep slumber.

there was a coldness felt coursing through his veins, an unnatural lack of warmth that caused him to awaken so suddenly. as he opens his eyes, he was achingly aware of how much lighter his chest felt, alerting him of the fact that his beloved had somehow awoken in the middle of the night and left him.

clive could feel his heart aching at the thought, nearly breaking when he thinks back to how strange his lover was acting as of late. each time he came back from his duties as a knight, the more his beloved would seem to retreat back into her shell.

yet still, she always kept that same beaming smile on her face. despite how it never seemed to reach at her eyes, she was always quick to reassure him that she was fine and was merely tired, is all.

but he knew his lover well.

he knew of her tendencies to keep to herself and hide her own burdens so as to not worry anyone else.

wanting to give her the space that she needed, clive respected her wishes and didn't try to pry about her true feelings. he remained ever so loving, ever so patient with her as he simply waited for her to come around and tell him of her feelings.

and he supposes tonight was a breaking point for her.

not wasting another second, clive shoves back the quilted blanket, his bare feet landing against the wooden floors of their shared home as he softly cries out her name. he hears a hiccup and a few sniffles, further prompting him to find her.

with his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the cottage, he looks towards the living quarters and feels his heart aching at the sight that was settled before him. there his lover was, curled up in a ball as her bloodshot eyes met with his concerned gaze.

"oh love, c'mere." clive takes a few steps towards his beloved woman, reaching out to her as he immediately takes her in his arms. with her pressed so intimately close against his bare chest, clive feels the way she buries her face within his skin. as if wanting to bask in his warmth, he feels her lips press a gentle kiss against his heart, making it flutter with its rapid beats from the confines of his chest.

"i'm sorry." as if his mere presence was enough to comfort her, clive listens as her sobs settles down, like a storm turning into drizzling rain as he could feel her pressing kisses against his skin. "i-i had been struggling with some dark thoughts these past couple of weeks, and i am so sor-"

clive then cuts her off the moment she began to apologize once more, leaning forward to press a bruising kiss against her parted lips. he relishes in her sweet sighs of his name, allowing her hands to cling to his broad shoulders as he continues to mold his lips together with hers. he slants his lips perfectly, slotting them together with hers like a missing puzzle piece as she moans against his kiss.

he thinks back to all of the times she has been there for him, through his darkest memories pertaining to his fallen kingdom and the loss of his father and brother. during that time, clive really felt as though he wanted to end himself, to somehow reunite with those that he loved-

yet it was her who stopped him; her who loved and cherished him and saved him from his own darkness.

and could he really call himself her lover if he couldn't do the same with her?

he was the first to pull away from the kiss, eyes looking deeply into her own as he lets out a soft murmur of her name. "i love you, my darling. always remember that. it was you who saved me from my own darkness, and i will always be grateful for the fact that our lives had crossed paths long ago."

clive embraces her even tighter then, pressing a kiss against the crown of her hair as she slowly began to cry once more while in his arms. "nothing has changed, cry as much as you need to. let it all out, i'm here, i'm here."

with the two lovers being comforted by their mere presence alone, time steadily passes by, further strengthening their bond as they knew that they could never and would never part from each other.

fin.

------

do not repost; plagiarize; or translate.

#mine #clive rosfield x reader #rosfield clive x reader #clive rosfield x you #rosfield clive x you #final fantasy xvi x reader #ff16 x reader

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I’ve been thinking about writing a fic for Clive where he and the reader had an arranged marriage when they were 18 because the reader is a Dominant and his mother is hoping for a grandchild that is like Joshua { in case something happens to him }

Well the opening happens and Clive thinks the reader aka someone he loved and his brother are dead.

But it turns out the reader used their Dominant abilities to save themselves along with Joshua and the two go into hiding and along the way the reader finds out they’re pregnant.

13 years later, Clive and Cid hear rumors about three Dominant’s.

Clive finally realizes the one he loves is alive along with his brother too, only to break down finding out he has a son.

I’m not far in the game so I wouldn’t even be following it at all.

I just want Clive and Joshua to be happy.

#fic idea #idea #writing ideas #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #final fantasy #final fantasy xvi

[xxladyballadxx]

Colliding Memories

Clive Rosfield x *Brainwashed* reader (Angst)

Summary: You were about finish off the vulnerable Clive Rosfield, until your head began to hurt and your memories of him started to appear.

Clive Rosfield gif credits: @obiwaned

(Note: Just a heads up, this has nothing to do with the events from the game.)

“(Y/N)! Snap out of it!” Clive parried your attack, he tried to pin you down to the ground so he could face you properly and talk his way into you. You teleported behind him and blasted him away in the distance using the magic of wind. Clive grunted, his body slammed by the wall. You smirked in return, watching him suffer. “Pathetic…” 

The King of Waloed seemed to enjoy the performance. Until he grew tired of just standing and watching, Barnabas then joins in the fight and gets surprised by Clive’s attack which he manages to evade easily. The two point their swords at each other and sounds of their blade came clashing on like a powerful storm. 

 You heard the dominant of Shiva coming your way and swung your dual blades to Jill’s rapier sword who failed to land a strike on you, “Please, (Y/n), don’t do this!” ignoring her words, you knocked the rapier off her hand and cast wind magic to blow her away. Jill fell unconscious after getting body slammed to the stonewall.  

Joshua sweeps in and fights you after gaining his strength back, “(Y/n), we’re your friends! The only friends you ever had in Rosalith!” he evaded your blows and took a step back, “I have no intention to hurt you but you leave me no choice!” He used the flames of Phoenix, aiming the shots of them towards you. You somersaulted up in the air to avoid the blast. Joshua heads in quickly and thrashes his sword against yours. 

Clive, with all his might, desperately attempted to get to you but Lord Barnabas kept getting in the way, preventing Ifrit’s dominant to save (Y/n) by saying the most utter worthless things to put in your head. 

“Do you think you can save her, Mythos?” says Barnabas, causing Clive’s anger to explode like a ticking bomb, “Your dear, sweet, little dove will never remember you. So amusing watching you say those ridiculous things to dear (Y/n) who no longer have you in her memory.” 

Clive semi-primed into Ifrit and aggressively thrashed his blade towards him. Barnabas dodges and summons his long, dark sword. Pinning the sharp surface against Clive’s Invictus sword. Barnabas plants a smirk across his face, “When this is all over, Mythos, I am going to make (Y/n) (L/n)...” his next words set Clive off, angering him more, “My Queen…the Queen of Waloed…” 

“You…YOU FUCKING DEPRAVING BASTARD!” The anger in Clive rises high, turning more violent and aggressive. Landing his fiery blows on Lord Barnabas as the King dodges them swiftly, “Yes, that’s right, Mythos! Let the rage consume you!” 

“I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” All the rage began to take over Clive, making him more vulnerable for Barnabas to land strong attacks on him. 

The King bested Clive, watching him drop weakly to the ground. Barnabas motioned his sword to Clive’s face of defeat, pointing the tip of his blade, “Bow before your king, Clive Rosfield.” 

You grabbed the collar of unconscious Joshua’s red shirt, dragging him along as she marches over to Lord Barnabas. You dropped his unmoving body, standing with the King. “(Y/n), my soon to be queen, would you like to do the honours to finish Clive Rosfield in my stead?” 

“As you wish, Lord Barnabas.” You unsheathed one of your dual swords with Barnabas taking a step back as he watches you finish off Ifrit’s dominant. “(Y/n), please!” shouted Clive, crawling back in his weak state “(Y/n)...my love…come back to me…” 

As you were going to pierce him through the heart with your dual sword, you felt your hand on the sword’s hilt shaking for some reason. Your head began to throb, the pain growing heavier. You screamed in agony causing you to drop your dual sword as you backed away, head down with hands to the sides. “Ah! Ugh…” feeling the pain increasing, you shrieked with your eyes closed looking up to the sky of darkness. It felt more like a cry for help. You drop your head looking to the ground while suffering with headaches. 

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?!” Clive rises up quickly to come and aid you. You pushed him away and sorrowful tears appeared in your eyes. Memories popped up in your head, there were so many of them. Sad, happy memories. Most of them…had Clive Rosfield in it. Remembering the momentous days you spent time with him. The laughs you share together, the happiness and the joy…

You started to remember something that you lost…

“(Y/n)...” Clive called out your name in a calm tone, walking up to you at a slow pace. You slowly held your head up, your eyes focused on him, “C-Clive…” 

Finally, you came back to him, “(Y/n)...” Clive swept you in his strong arms, holding you tight in an embrace, “My dear (Y/n)...I knew you were still in there.” 

You continued to have your arms wrapped around Clive, remembering the last time you embraced him. “Oh my, this is very touching.” you pulled away from your lover for a moment as Barnabas looked at both of you with a smirk, slipping out his sword, “Never thought this day would come where (Y/n) (L/n) regains her old self. Even her memories.” 

“Stay back, my love. I will deal with him.” Clive urges you to step aside, grasping the hilt of his sword and facing towards Barnabas’s direction. “Clive…” you mumbled , saying his name worryingly. You didn’t want to know what would happen next but you just envisioned it anyway. Things are about to get ugly.

“Tell me, Mythos…you think you can protect your precious dove from me?” Barnabas questioned, semi-priming into the dark eikon Odin. His voice goes demonically deep, “Do you truly believe you have all the strength to protect your precious (Y/n)?” 

Clive, once again, half transformed into his Ifrit form. The roars of the flames floating all over him, standing his ground, “I will never let you take her away from me again, Barnabas.”

“Come then, Mythos…” Barnabas raising his sword, the sharp point focusing on Clive Rosfield, “Let’s see if you have the power to defeat me.” 

And so the two raging dominants clashed on, blades clicking together as they fought like wild beasts in the fight. You just stood there, frozen. Watching them battling against each other. 

You thought Clive would win. Barnabas outsmarted him somehow, sweeping him off the ground. “Ugh!” Clive groaned, blood dripping from his mouth. “Clive!” You pulled out your dual sword and rushed to him as quickly as you could. 

“It’s over, Mythos!” Barnabas laughed devilishly, levelling his sword mid-air. Planning to kill the love of your life. “Fuck! Am I going to make it in time?!” you thought after realizing how far you are in the distance from them. 

As you watched Barnabas in panic who was about to end Clive’s life, you sped up rapidly and made it in time to kill the King. Your dual sword pierced through the chest. Barnabas spat out blood when he was stabbed by you, his hand dropping as his dark sword vanished. Transforming back to his human form. You drew your sword back, stepping away from him. A dying Barnabas twisted in your way, facing you, “Well…I never knew you had it in you…” He crept up to you in his weakened condition. “Get back, you fucking psycho!” you yelled in a threatening tone while walking a few steps back, drawing out your sword at his stone-hardened skin. Clive comes to your side, shielding you from Barnabas. 

“You have outdone yourself…(Y/n) (L/n)...” At long last, the King of Waloed is dead. His body dropped, his entire body turning to stone. You let out a sigh, throwing your sword in sorrow. Remembering the horrible things you’ve done.

“(Y/n)..” Clive comforts you, tucking you into his arms, “It’s over now, my love.” 

“You’re finally free from him, (Y/n).” A conscious Joshua finally awakened, healed enough to walk over with a small smile appearing on his face. Even Jill recovered her strength, “Welcome back to the real world, (Y/n).” happy tears forming into her eyes, she was so glad that you were back to your normal self. 

You hugged Joshua and Jill, crashing them into your arms. Being careful not to squeeze them too tight since they’re still slightly injured. “I’m so sorry…” your voice lowered, tears falling down onto your face. 

“It’s okay, (Y/n).” Joshua reassured you. 

“It wasn’t you, (Y/n). We both know that it wasn’t you.” Jill spoke in a comforting manner. 

You returned to Clive as the two of you nuzzled up to each other, “I miss you, my darling. Thought I would never see you again.” Thinking you were never coming back to him. If you didn’t, he would still be in a very dark place. “I’m here, Clive…Never forget that I will always come back to you..” 

Clive moved in closer to kiss you, your eyes shut tight falling into the moment where you circle your arms around him. Jill smiled warmly, seeing the two lovers reunited at last. Joshua chuckled nervously, knowing this was bound to happen. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention from you and Clive, “We should head back to the hideaway and inform the others about what happened here.” 

Jill added, “And let’s not forget to tell them that we have (Y/n) back with us. Our long lost dear friend of ours.” 

Clive nodded, agreeing with them. He held your hand into his, tightly so he never lets go. His blue eyes shining up on you, “Ready to head home with us, my darling?” 

You chuckled, smiling sweetly at your lover, “Let’s get the hell out of this miserable place.” 

✩࿐⋆*

(A/n) - Truly sorry for not writing him for A VERY LONG TIME! I hope you all enjoy reading it! UNTIL NEXT TIME ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

✩࿐⋆*

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #final fantasy 16 #ff16 #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield angst #ffxvi x reader #cliverosfield #cliverosfieldxreader #ffxvi angst #x female reader

[silentblxxd]

“My flame?” Clive questions, hearing the nickname on fall on your lips. It took a moment as to why that nickname until it dawned on him. Their flame. A flame that is unwavering, burns for passion forevermore, to know that the person in front of him burns for him. And him alone. Clive smiles widely, his heart fluttering and face blushing. Now his heart forever claimed the nickname, My flame, and he feels your love and affection, feeling his mind and body melt under your gaze and touch. "You're so perfect…you're my rose, that's you."

“If my love for you is a fire, then yours is a flame that burns far more strongly." Clive whispers.

#ff16 #clive rosfield #clive ffxvi #ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #oneshot #fluff #i love him #please hold me #hug me tight