I NEED YOUR LOVE TONIGHT

DISCLAIMER:

I do not own Final Fantasy 15 or it's said characters. This is a work of fan-made fiction that I make no money or monetary gain from.

Thank you Mr. Elvis Presley for the song titles!

WARNINGS:

Cunnilingus (oral sex), vaginal sex, fingering (ya know, general naughty stuffs), outdoor sex, and some surprise fluff. PWP (plot what plot). One-shot.

PAIRING:

Gladiolus Amicitia X FemaleReader

A huge thank you to melaena (tumblr handle). Whose beta superpowers (against semi-colons, bad grammar, and other writing daemons) and general (totally not pervy) fangirling kept me motivated to finish this smutty one-shot. Hopefully, the extra hot flashes were worth it. Thanks, you perverted old bag! ;)

The squeals of metal breaks and crunch of dry dirt are the sounds of your arrival at the appointed destination. Your heart hammering at the end of your boyfriend's version of a "leisurely drive", though not as treacherous as most of the daemons you've faced. A good, well-deserved, second-place spot in your "dangerous activities which may kill you" list. According to Ignis, is the sole reason he can never drive with Noctis riding.

"Here we are, babe!" Gladiolus' thunderous baritone boomed as he switched off the engine and opened the door of the 4x4 Jeep Wrangler.

How, by the Six, the camping gear remained in the trunk instead of flying from his hazardous driving you will never know. Especially since, he hardly pulled the top open. Perhaps packing is his secret power?

As you helped him set camp, you take in the atmosphere.

It is a pleasant, sunny day at Greyshire Lake. It was the beginning of summer, just before the days would turn hazy and miserable.

The songbirds chorused their compositions to the swirl of the tranquil lake. Toward the east, you heard the waterfall, Callatein's Plunge. Surrounding the water was a wall of lush evergreen and oak trees with a distant view of The Rock of Ravatogh to the south.

Gladiolus sure knew his campgrounds, and you are appreciative for that. A new place every time since you began dating him two years ago.

As he was setting up the tiny tent, the warmth in the air radiated glimmers of sweat to bead Gladio's temple and bare inked chest. You knew he noticed your sidelong stares. Not that he'd object. Since his amber eyes examined you in a bikini top, shorts, and boots.

After arranging camp, you had an excellent idea. The lake was right there.

Shedding your shorts and boots, you aimed toward the lake calling, "You coming Gladdy!?" Not missing his stunned and mischievous expression as you threw your bikini top at his face. Your dogtags clinking together between your breasts.

You heard him clamber out of his own sparse attire as you splashed into the water; taking a few languid strokes. Just as he dived in, you submerge. His towering mass is a dark splotch encompassed by the sun's light piercing the surface.

How he stayed afloat you'd never understand. Or, his quick decent toward you. Seeing the impish glint in his eyes and smirk through the haze of blue-green water. Strokes from his powerful arms and legs meet you in seconds. Fingertips lazily brushing your skin as you swam back. Provoking him into chase in the fresh water.

It didn't take long for him to catch you as your lungs almost burst. Gladiolus bounded upward with a final serge from his long, toned legs, his hands grasped you by the waist in a cascade of sparkling water. You both laugh - exuberant from the playful tease.

His large hands never left your waist, only transferring to the small of your back, caressing the flesh there. As your own hands moved to his broad shoulders, stroking the inked flesh to the clavicle. Your peaked nipples ghosted his toned chest. Gladiolus's amber eyes shown bright, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek—which turned to kissing your nose, and lastly, your waiting mouth.

He smelled as he always has, of musky-pine with hint of fading cologne. His chapped but smooth lips are a sweet saltiness, along with crispness from the lake water. Tongues dance in lazy hunger. One of your fingers curls around a strand of his wet, dark hair. The eye of his crow tattoo gleams just beneath water, ready to take you as his prey within his inked, feathered arms.

Amber eyes burn brighter, softer in surrender to you as he pulls back from the kiss. Both of your foreheads and noses touch. The skin on his left eye scar pulls tight from his grin.

You notice how, for once, you are both eye-level. So used to him looming a good head-and-a-half taller. The easy access to his kisses are welcomed. Gentle and unhurried as they were.

"Little one," caressing the nickname he gave to you, "my sweet little one." Tightening the embrace just a fraction as he nuzzled your blushing cheeks.

Despite his hulking frame, you've only ever known the tenderness of his hands and softness of his mouth when intimate. Hot and demanding as they can be.

You notice a faint, white scar hidden behind his facial hair, small and wholly insignificant. Except you remember how he got that one. Gladiolus got it the first day you two met. A scratch from a sabertusk claw.

The day that happened, it was supposed to be a short mission, which involved you, being the best hunter is Lucis, and the Crownsguard. A mission ordered by King Regis himself, which turned into a long hunt and chase. You thought of him handsome and liked his personality enough, but heard rumors of him being a womanizer. Not surprising when he asked you on a date after the completed mission.

You'll never forget the astonished look on his face when you told him 'no'.

All the times he'd ask for a date and you would tell him 'no' he remained a perfect gentleman. Asking, but never pushing, baring a gift of temporary beauty. Curious and amused, you tolerated his pursuit to see how long he would continue before he would give up.

It wasn't until he gave you a beautiful, well-crafted sword which caused the final relenting point. Swords and weaponry are essential to a hunter. And this one was crafted from the finest master blacksmith in Lucis. It was well deserving of several dates in your mind.

You reasoned after a few dates and a onetime sex escapade he would fall into his routine and break it off. If the rumors had truth to them. Not that you minded. You've had short-lived relationships and onetime affairs yourself. Plus, you got to keep the sword.

Whatever he saw in you, he stuck around since then. Your mind drifted as of late if there was anything deeper between you two despite the simplicity of your relationship.

"Must be some serious thinkin' you've got their babe." His baritone cut through your memories and drifting thoughts. His thick, angled brows twisted in interest.

You rolled your eyes, "Nothin' you don't know about and nothin' serious either."

Gladiolus shrugged his broad shoulders; the result caused sharp splashes of water on skin. He didn't ask for elaboration. Or, maybe it wasn't needed.

You loved that one thing about him. He didn't ask for anything more than what you will give. It was enough for you both as he gave it in kind. It was a simple, easy relationship. Despite him being a member of the Crownsguard and you are a simple hunter.

Now it was your turn to notice being intently stared at by your bulky lover.

"Seems as though I'm not the only doin' some thinkin'." You smile at the strange juxtaposition of his eyes, warm and bright while his brow and mouth contracted.

Hard lines relaxed once again, returning to being relaxed and open.

Like the thick hands that cupped your ass. An impish gleam in his amber depths.

"Oh!" as you understood his motive, "Is that what you were thinkin'? Should have known."

"Smartass." He chuckled out, lips brushing against your neck. Feathery kisses tickling the skin causing you to giggle. The prickle of his short-cropped goatee added an excellent contrast to his soft lips.

Your world shifted as he pushed his bulky body, along with you, toward the bank using his powerful legs and one free arm. Lips intermingling along the way. A sinking suspicion of what he had in store when you both got to the sandy bank. Your instinct heightened as he casually pulled your panties off. (Not that you would have stopped him). A snicker escaped your throat as a long finger brushed the skin between thigh and labia.

After that, all doubts of what he was after was left to drift like your free floating panties that now lurked in the lake's depths.

Gladiolus's sturdy feet found the sandy floor. When he did, he tightened his hold on your buttocks to secure you before placing you on one of the long, flat boulders that dotted the shore. Bare and naked, skin sparkling in the high-noon sunlight.

His mouth glides down the column of your neck to the twin mounds of your breasts. Ghosting along the cold metal of your dogtags before you twisted them out of the way. Sucking, kissing a stiff peak; a hand pinching and caressing the other. You sigh and moan. Letting the warm, wet sensation electrify your nerves. Your heady whines and clasping hand in his dark hair encourage him as he groans and pants with a hard, crinkled nipple in his mouth. Gladiolus gave the twin peak the same treatment from his greedy mouth and caressing tongue.

He descends.

Lips planting butterfly kisses down your sternum, stomach, and just stopping where short, curly hair awaits your womanliness. His amber eyes are molten—hot and desiring. Groaning and whimpering in need. Spreading your thighs as he lowers his body; thick arms curving around them as his playful hands caress your belly and ticklish ribs. Pinning you within his defined, inked arms as he takes a moment to smell your femininity. Loving this moment as much as you do—despite the prolonged, sweet torture. His soft pants—so close—gave a hard contrast to just how thick and sopping in anticipation you were. Your clitoris sat on top of your sex, each throbbing boom nearly painful in its simple demand of just please. Planting open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, which were so close but not close enough.

Your calves press along his tattooed back—begging him, once again, to just please.

He used the tip of his tongue to draw around the outer flesh of your labia. You whimper at the wet contact. Then sighing as he presses open-mouthed kisses along the same path. The contact becoming deeper as he sucks the flesh into his mouth. He moans deeply; the vibrations sending sensations that went directly to your clitoris—hot, swollen, and impatient—making you wetter.

That same devilish tongue pressed further within your seam. That tiniest fraction closer to sensitive flesh.

He watches your reactions behind blown pupils. A thin ring of molten gold around the hazy black. Watching as he slowly builds you with each whimper, moan, and gasp.

One of Gladiolus's hands glides down to hold one of your thighs up, pushing it toward your chest. Creating a new angle for him to better eat your pussy. A callused thumb tracing circles around the soft skin. One of your own hands pressed on top of his while the other buried itself into his dark hair. Attempting to draw him closer.

His tongue and hot mouth finally give what you were waiting for. The tip circles around the engorged flesh of your clit and sucks it hard into his mouth. Your howl echoed throughout the valley. You grip tighter in his hair and the pressure within you bound more strongly. You were ripe to burst. His pleasured groans shooting delicious vibrations to the sensitive flesh. His goatee provided a delicious contrast to his thirsty lips.

Your hips bucked against him as the electric pleasure built. Legs trembling with impending orgasm.

The arm around your belly leaves and at the corner of your sight, you see it reaching between his legs. The muscles expanding and relaxing as he pleasured himself. He grunted and panted harder against your throbbing flesh.

Knowing how turned on he is caused you to see white stars as you cried out Gladiolus's name. He kept up his ministrations, pulling you through your orgasm. Lapping up your spilled nectar greedily.

He settles you down from your high while planting gentle kisses on your inner thigh. His lips reddened and beard glistens from your juice.

Amber eyes intense and predatory as they gaze at your spent form. He leans in to kiss you. Tasting the tang from your spilled honey on his swollen lips. You reciprocate the kiss, deepening it in a mess of lip, teeth, and tongue. He tangles his hand into your damp hair; the thumb caressing your cheek. His body covers you in muscle, musk and ink; the sunlight cascading a halo around his head. He grinned crookedly, far from finished with you.

The blunt head of his heavy member rubs along your moist seam, protruding out of his thin boxers. Breath hitches as it contacts your over sensitive clit. His narrow hips roll slightly into the tease.

He tenses for a moment. A whiny growl emulates from his throat. Eyes disbelieving and annoyed.

Before you ask what the matter is, he picks you up, and sprints back to the campsite. As much as he could despite the fact, the blunt head of his dick was slapping your labia and inner thigh.

You hold on (not that you needed to) during the ride. He kneels down with you where he put his pants, yanks out his wallet and fishes out –

A condom packet.

You almost die laughing.

Gladiolus's brows rose in amusement, if flustered at the ridiculousness. You kiss him in apology, taking the condom packet from him. Sliding off him, he follows you a few feet away to the opening of the tent where you pull out a blanket. An admiring, callused hand touches your buttock as you open it up, watching it as it drifts down onto the stone.

You point for him to lie down on it. His thick cock jutting out from between his legs. Taking the initiative himself to, finally, take off his boxers.

His heavy balls dangled and his dark, coarse patch of pubic hair framed his genitals—a thin trail leading up to his navel. He watched through sharp brows as you opened the condom packet. You gave a few loving tugs to his throbbing sex. Watching the skin cover and expose the purple head of his dick. A dollop of precum leaked out, and you used your thumb to smear it along the tip, circling the urethra opening. Gladiolus groaned loudly and his eyes rolled.

"C'mon babe, I want you." His breath hoarse from wanting you so bad. His hand kneaded your thigh, straining with urgency.

Satisfied at his response, you encase his dick with the rubber. Then climbed on top of his lap. His hands bracing against your hips, the fingertips pressing crescent moons on your skin.

As you lowered yourself, he kept murmuring "Do it, babe. Do it." against the bump of your clavicle. Amber eyes melting in anticipation.

The blunt head pressed against your opening before you relaxed and let it breach you. You both groan at the sensation. Feeling as though he could split you, but delighting in the filling nature as you lowered. You could feel the pulsing veins that coiled around the engorged flesh—even through the rubber. He claimed your mouth possessively—a mixture of breath and tongue—as you speared yourself all the way to the root of his sex. Course pubic hair brushed against your labia. Taking a moment to adjust to his size. His hands release of their firm hold on your ass, to coil themselves around your torso—fingers twining the ends of your tresses.

You started out in a slow rocking motion. Gladiolus's gasp and moans complimented the feel of you grasping firmly onto his hard cock. Soft slurping sounds emanated from the action. You cry at the charged contact. Tightening your grip in his long, dark mane.

Sweat glistened both of your temples as you ground harder, faster. The sensations rising in power. His moans strengthened to grunts and pants. The air becoming thick from his guttural sounds—rumbling deep within his chest. Amber eyes rolling and angled brows deepened. Calloused fingers dig into the flesh of your spine to return to the mound of your ass.

You grind and twist your hips against his thick cock, pulling and squeezing it. Loving how much it stretches you. You both breathe out incoherent obscenities. His hands delving into the smooth flesh of your ass, spanking it roughly. You squeal sharply at the stinging raps. Your breasts bounce in front of his face. He watched you intently ride him. His abdominals and deep chest working to keep up the effort, his breathing harsh; causing the already defined muscles to deepen.

One of his hands he extracts from your reddened ass to lean against. Using it as support as he popped his hips up to join yours.

Yes. Please.

Locked in the moment of each other. Out where there was no-one to hear their moans, cries, and flesh against flesh. Singing an ancient tune that was only intended to bring pleasure and joy.

Gladiolus licked his thumb and used it to stir your clitoris. You cry out, advancing toward your orgasm.

"That it baby." He murmured in your ear, " You're so beautiful. Cum on me." Biting and licking your throat you were powerless but to obey.

You screamed his name as your release shot through you. The heated cord snapped, whipping your vision and drawing you out of your body. Your hands clutching his inked shoulders like a lifeline—pressing angry welts onto the firm muscle. He clenched his teeth and hissed as he came the instant after you. His creamy seed filling the condom.

You both still against the other, letting the pulsing heat play out within your bodies. Gladiolus cupped your face in his hands, pressing butterfly kisses along your mouth; before he tilted your exhausted body to settle down on the soft blanket. You shiver at the vacant feeling when he pulled out of your cunt. Hazily watching as he tugged off the used condom and hurled it into the small trash bin with a flick of his wrist. His member lay sated between his toned legs.

Adjusting yourselves to intertwine, once the right position was found, you both sigh.

Easing down from the high in calm bliss within each other's arms, you rest your head on a muscled shoulder. One of your fingers lazily trace along the black lines of his crow tattoo, starting with the beak on his chest; blissful and content in the warm, afternoon sun. Gentle and soothing, his hand trailed the curve of your hip. Breathing him in, the aroma of spent sex and musky pine.

The lulling sounds of the lake and carefree birds adds to the blissful displacement welling within your bosom.

Satisfied amber eyes look at you reverently; his sculpted lips upturned in a crooked grin; and an enduring flush painted his cheeks and ears. You admire the mellowness of his features, so often inclined in fierceness. Then, suddenly, a frightening realization bubbled in your gut. It screamed of how much you actually loved him.

You open your mouth to say something. The urge is strong within you. The tightening sounds you needed to express halted as the gentle press of his fingers wrapped around the hand tracing along the tattoo lines. Bringing the mingled digits to his lips, kissing tenderly the knuckles of your hand. And you lay mute.

Maybe, just like the simple nature of your relationship, it wasn't needed.

Whatever it was you had with Gladiolus Amicitia—if it did eventually end—you doubt it would sour these memories.

-Fin