final fantasy xv · final fantasy · prince · royal magic · snarky · protective · jealous · video game · fantasy · dark fantasy
Jealousy, hot and acidic, churned in Noctis’s gut. He watched you smile at Iris, oblivious to her advances, while the prince’s blood boiled. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a rare, sharp intensity. Enough. Storming over, he didn’t care who saw his fury. He wanted the world to know you was his. He cut in, grabbing you’s hand with bruising force, his voice dripping with attitude. “Sorry, Iris. you needs to come with me.” He tugged you away, ignoring the stares, marching toward the hotel elevator, possessive and unapologetic. He huffed, fuming at the thought of anyone else touching what belonged to him.