A Man Of No Consequence (Ardyn x Reader)

In The Lap Of The Gods, Revisited

Biting your lip, you walk backward, smiling and waving, until you reach the door. The four stand still, wanting to see you enter the building safely. Damn you guys... You approach the double doors, and open them, finally hearing the group behind you slowly turning to leave.

"Pretty snazzy place she's staying at, huh?" you hear Prompto observe.

"Indeed..." Ignis agrees.

You breathe out a deep sigh of relief as you enter the reception room, removing your heels that have made your feet ache for the last few hours. Quietly walking on the soft carpet, you pass the ballroom where the event was being held earlier. Peeking in, you see an empty room with only two guests remaining; an older man leaning on a table, quite visibly drunk, talking loudly to a younger suited man, about magitek engines.

Continuing your way up the stairs, you start to feel nervous at the thought of encountering Ardyn. Reminding yourself he hardly ever spends the night in his room, you wonder if he's already left the residence.

Arriving at the room, you realize you don't have a key. You place your hand on the door knob, and turn it gently. The door opens. You enter, turning on the light, dropping the coat and shoes on the floor as you close the door behind you.

"The prince, is it?"

You jump at the sound of his voice. Turning around, you see Ardyn stood at the window, looking out.

"You scared me."

"I have to admit, my dear, I am a bit hurt. That you would rather spend your evening with the young prince..."

"Oh..." you realize he saw it all. "I ran into him outside. They were nice enough to buy me a tea..."

"Do I not buy you enough things?" he asks wryly, turning to look at you with that hypnotizing gaze.

"Come on... I just needed some fresh air," you confess.

He approaches you slowly. "But the company of the king-to-be does not come without a cost. I'm worried about what information you have given," he starts, removing his gloves, keeping his eyes on you. "I'm worried about what stories they have told you." He stops a few feet away, in front of you.

"Nothing," you respond. "Nothing of importance."

You stand bare foot, in your silk dress, facing him, keeping your posture strong, trying to engage his intense stare without showing any hesitation.

"Perhaps you are thinking of turning against me?"

"I'm not..." you try to protest.

"Take off your underwear," he orders, interrupting you.

"What?" Your response is genuinely confounded.

"I'm going to need some proof to back that statement," he continues. "Remove," he lifts his hand, pointing his fingers at your abdomen, "your underwear."

Despite the distance, you can almost feel his touch burning on your skin with intense heat. Following his command would go against all the principles you've established about asserting your own will, yet the mere thought of what he's implying makes your knees wobble. You devil, you handsome bastard. You grin back at him.

"Fine."

Rolling up the brim of your dress, you reach under for your panties, pulling them down with the hem, letting them drop to the floor. Pushing them forward with your foot, you wait for his reaction.

"Is that enough proof?"

"Hardly." He tilts his head. "Lean against the window."

"Why?"