Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I'm bringing you my finest request! Where Reader has been insisting for a while for Clive to teach her how to fight with a sword but he doesn't want her to put herself in danger so a bit of angst maybe and all the frustration in their sparring session leads to steamy sex (swordplay maybe? 👀) with a fluffy resolution. I hope this inspires you!
Yes, yes, yes! Holy trifecta request! Angst, smut, and fluff coming up! Thank you for this wonderful request, I was smiling the whole time I wrote it, with reddened cheeks 😬
Clive Rosfield x female reader
-----
My Request
“No. You've asked me this already. Multiple times.” Clive says as he looks at you. Brows furrowed and arms crossed, leaning against his desk. That immediately fades as your face twists in dejection.
“.. Can't blame me for trying again…” You mumble, turning around to leave. He watches you go with slumped shoulders. A pang in his chest.
For a few months, you'd gotten it into your head that you wanted to learn how to fight with a sword. You had asked him to teach you whenever he had some time to spare. Which you knew was not a lot, but you'd make do. However, Clive outright refused. You'd understand if it was about his time. But it wasn't.
“Wait.” Clive tries, reaching out for your arm. “Could you explain to me again why you want this?” He'd been too busy. His face falls when he sees your sad expression.
“I want to help the Cursebreakers. I want to help you.”
“You're already helping me.” Clive pleads, taking your reluctant hands in his.
“By bringing you meals when you forget to eat? Sorting your missives and replying to the urgent ones?” You meet his gaze, eyes wet. “I can do more than that, Clive. Please. I’m as able bodied as anyone else. And it gives us a good reason to spend a bit more time together.”
Clive bites his lip briefly before answering. “...I don't want you to put yourself in danger. I’m not saying you aren't strong, but what if I lose you?” His heartbeat rises dramatically at the thought, anxiety bubbling to the surface. He immediately pulls you into a hug, lips pressed on your forehead. “I cannot lose you.”
You accept, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Would you prefer it if I was helpless when attacked? Standing by idly while you fight for your life?” You murmur into his chest. You'd been thinking about it for longer than a few months. Contemplating it. Haunting nightmares. Taking action. There's silence before he speaks.
“Do you not trust me to protect you?” His words are a stab to the heart, even when spoken softly. He's just as hurt as you are, both clenching each other's shirt.
“..I do.” Burying your head in the crook of his neck, you're happy he doesn't have his armor on right now. “.. Won't you give me a chance?” You say then. “Would you not trust me to be careful? And have your back when you deem me strong enough?” Squeezing his side briefly, you move back to look at him. Conflict is written on his face.
It softens, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I suppose I should at least give you a chance.” The soft smile on his face is infectious, and you're already smiling too. Stepping back, Clive motions for you to join him. On to the pits.
...
He hands you a wooden sword. Both in linen shirts, leather pants and boots, you stand in the coarse sand. The hour is rather late, sconces lighting the room. There is no one here anymore, and you're curious as to why Clive wanted to do this with you now. Perhaps he was too busy tomorrow, or he was making it more difficult with the decreased vision. Taking a stance, you raise the weapon and focus on Clive. Curiosity paints his face, observing you. “Attack me when you're ready.” He says, taking his stance. He holds the weapon with one arm, while you do two. Still, you don't hesitate. You have got something to prove after all. Closing the distance, you throw a diagonal overhead strike. Clive blocks the strike, gauging your strength. You smile when it's more than he expected. Letting the blade glide off his, you continue your assault.
Clenching the weapon, trying to attack his sides. A few strikes before retracting and trying again. Clive is not countering. Your brows furrow. Speeding up, you remember Dorys her last lesson. Variety is important. Feinting another overhead strike, you go low and hit his thigh. Clive briefly grunts in surprise. Then he counters. Instinctively or not, it's strong. You barely manage to block. “...This is not the first time you're holding a weapon.” Standing straight, his brows furrow. “It is not.” You confirm. A silence falls, where your gazes are locked. “When you refused for the third time, I went to Dorys.” “Without telling me.” Dorys had sworn to keep it a secret. You nod.
“...I hoped I could learn from you. But I wasn't going to let it stop me.” A wry smile appears on his face.
“I should've known.” To your surprise, he switches out his wooden weapon for a blunt steel one. Then he waits for you to do the same. It seems he was going to take you seriously.
He still lets you attack first. Going for a lunge with a piercing strike to his stomach, you see him sidestep. In awe of his speed, you're a tad too late in parrying his counter. Off balance, and Clive takes advantage of that. Fortunately, this was not the first time this has happened to you. You thrust your back leg diagonally behind you, and shift weight from the front to the back to get away from Clive, effectively dodging his attack. You're grateful that he doesn't go all out on you. The dance continued, both of you trying out different sequences of attacks. Clive hits your upper arm, and he freezes when you wince. “I’m okay.” You say immediately.
“Are you sure?” His hand already reaches out to check on you.
“Yes.” You give him an honest smile. You're not made of sugar. Although it would probably bruise later. Reluctant, Clive gets into position once more. He attacks first, opting for quick slashing attacks. Driving you back, before going a tad faster. You're proud for holding out this long, but you're getting out of breath. Parrying his attacks makes your bones rattle. Fingers tingle. Still, you're not giving up. You were going to show Clive you were up for it. Prove to him that you had what it takes to become a cursebreaker. Even without a brand on your face. Cheeks red from exertion, you still manage a hit on Clive's side. He's unfazed, continuing his quick strikes.
He's trying to wear you down, you realize. Too late, as your back is against the wall, blade softly pressed against the side of your neck. Sweat drips down your spine, heartbeat high while panting to catch your breath. He seems to just barely break out in a sweat. Unable to gauge Clive's intention, your gazes are locked. With a flick of his wrist, he presses the side of the blade against your skin. The sudden coldness of it makes you gasp.
“You have talent.” Clive is not smiling when he says that.
“Why’d you do that.” Your voice is low, moving the blade away with your fingers to a safer distance.
“Even with talent, you'd be dead by now.” He’s serious, and you swallow.
“..I know I’m not good enough yet, but-”
“You'll get better.” Clive interjects. “I’m afraid you'll be a cursebreaker in no time at all.” Your brows furrow, wishing he could at least be happy for you. Catching your breath, you straighten your back.
“Want to do another round?” You ask, feeling the need to dispel the upcoming frustration. Clive steps back and nods. It seems neither of you wanted to catch up on sleep.
The dance quickly resumes, blades clashing in heated movement. Steps get a little more frantic. Attacks more aggressive. Hits more painful. Neither one of you is stopping. Clive growls when you manage to grin. It seems his intention of dissuading you from your plan was failing. You are learning so much right now, adapting to his strength. Noticing differences from how Dorys fights. You’d be covered in bruises tomorrow. Worth it, as Clive would also have a few.
It's a matter of time before you find yourself back against the wall. He is panting a little, and you take that as a win. “Tch.” He can't help but smile as he shakes his head. Clive holds the tip of the blade against your chest. Sweat drips down from his throat into his shirt. “We should've done this sooner.” He admits. In response, you raise an eyebrow. “It feels like I’m getting to know you even better.” He says then, and your face softens. And yet, he still holds you in place with his sword. “And…” Now his blade moves, hooking into the v-neck collar to expose a tiny bit of your collarbone.
In mock surrender, you drop your weapon. He briefly checks if you're still alone. “Don’t surrender that easily.” Clive comments, eying you. Gaze briefly lowering to your lips.
“Don't think I would do that for anyone but you.” You counter, lips quirking upward. At that, he drops his sword. Discards it for something more important. He steps in, hands pressing yours beside your head against the wall. Kissing you softly. Quickly turning feverish, his body flushed with yours. Your hands clasped his, returning the kiss. The smell of his sweat penetrates your nostrils, and you had to wonder why you hadn't done this sooner. It's intoxicating. His body pressed against yours, feeling his desire for you growing. All from a clash of swords. “It… seems.. you like sparring with me.” You say in between the clashing of lips and teeth.
Clive moves back, face bashful. “I do.” His hands let go of yours, moving to the hem of your shirt. “I was being too protective.” He admits. “..I love seeing you fight. Analyzing me.” Your hand cups his face. Thumb rubbing his scared cheek softly. “..I can't wait until you outmaneuver me, holding a blade to my throat.”
“I already changed your mind after one session?” You smile, as Clive responds by pulling your shirt over your head.
“You are quite persuasive.” His voice dips low, kissing the crook of your neck. You shiver when his tongue licks your skin. He whispers a curse. “I can't hold back any longer.”
“I was hoping you'd say that.” You reply, fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt. He obediently holds his arms overhead, and with a bit of effort you remove the clothing. Admiring his scars, you softly trace them with your fingers. He lets you, carefully biting your ear. The tingling sensation emboldens you. Kissing his chest, moving to pinch his hardened nipple between thumb and index finger. You love the gasp in your ears. The bruising grip on your ass. Realizing that he finds it unfair your chest isn't bare yet, he pulls your top overhead, admiring the view. He's distracted, and with your foot, you dip underneath his discarded sword and pull it up in a swift motion. The blade had been cold against your neck.
With a quick move, the flat of the blade is against Clive's abdomen. The twitch in his muscles, the hitch in his breath paints a smile on your face. “That's how you want to play this?” His cheeks are crimson, a mischievous smirk appearing on his face.
“Maybe.” You shrug with a smile.
“You have to be better than that.” Clive smiles, disarming you in mere seconds. The grip on your wrist is firm, but gentle as he takes back his weapon.
“Ah!” It's cold against your breast.
“It seems I may hold it against your throat first.” The smile on his face makes your heart flutter, as he moves up the sword. “Undress, love.”
“..Fine.” You'll admit defeat, discarding the lower half of your clothing slowly. Before you can step out of your panties, Clive lifts up your chin with his sword.
“Front or back against the wall?” He asks.
“Front.” You decide, and he nods, allowing you to go there. Hands on the wooden wall. Back arched slightly. Thighs dripping, ready for him. Clive doesn't take long to undo the lace of his trousers. Pumping his cock a few times before approaching you.
“You look beautiful.” He says, taking in the view. You respond with a smile as you look back at him. There's precum leaking from his hard cock, and he smears it over his tip. He teases you one more time. Tapping your ass with the cold blade. Demanding you spread your legs a little further as he presses it against the inside of your thigh.
“C-Clive..” You gasp. Even though you fully trust his skills with a sword, being bare made you slightly nervous. Clive usually isn't that dominant, but this time that's on you. His hand grips your hip, rubbing his cock against your entrance. The sword leaves his hand, lining himself up.
“You smell good.” Clive whispers in your ear, settling himself flush against your back.
“Y-you too.” You manage. His hips thrust slowly, claiming you inch by inch. The stretch makes him groan, and your breath hitches with each move. His free hand takes hold of your breast, kneading it as he sees fit while his hips start to slam into you. “F-fuck that’s good.” You moan, bracing yourself against the wall. He fills you so well.
“I can do better.” Clive growls, his hand moving away from your breast to your clit. Bodies stuck together by sweat and desire, you let Clive pound you into the wall. His calloused hand rubbing you just the way you like it. You grit your teeth, letting the moans spill through. Chest pressed against the wood, under arms braced as his rhythm turns more erratic. Bruising grip on your hip. Soft growls in your ears as your skin slaps together with each thrust. His fingers make quick circles on your sensitive spot, and you're close.
He places sloppy kisses on the crook of your neck. “I’m close.” He growls, both his hips and his hand speeding up. Pulling you deeper on his cock. You're already there, orgasm slowly spreading through you. Toes curl as the heat makes your body go rigid. A whine escapes your lips, and Clive rides out his own orgasm with vigor, pumping you full with his cum. “F-founder..” He groans, your walls squeezing him dry. When he pulls out, your pussy is leaking. Another kiss on the crook of your neck. You're panting, straightening yourself. “Let's clean ourselves up.” Clive suggests, putting the swords back.
Then he pulls his shirt over your head. It's long enough to cover your ass. Pulling your arms through the sleeves, you're rolling them up. Clive watches you with a faint blush. “I apologize for denying you a sparring session for so long. I promise to actually teach you next time.” At the words ‘next time’ your smile widens.
“You will? Are you sure?” He nods, pulling you into a hug.
“Yes. I had a lot of fun. And if you want to be a cursebreaker, who am I to say no? I would hate to see you unhappy.”
“Thank you.” You squeeze him gratefully, arms around his waist. When you peel away after a moment, Clive collects your remaining clothes, handing them to you before lifting you bridal style in his arms.
“More shared baths afterwards would make me happy too.” He smiles. You snicker slightly, looking up at him.
“I suppose that's a fair deal.” Clive is careful to check if you're covered nicely before going to the baths. He shakes you a little playfully in his arms, humming contently.
“I almost had to take you seriously.” He says before you can ask. “I never guessed this could be so much fun.”
“Me neither.”
“How long would it take before you can join me on missions?” His eagerness is such a change from a few hours ago, that it catches you briefly off guard.
“I'll leave that up to you. Dorys was happy to have me on board.” He scrunches his nose slightly. You playfully pinch it. “Please, fight over me all you want.” You smirk. You both laugh a moment later.
“I will.” Clive promises, carrying to the baths. “But first, I think I deserve some help with scrubbing my back.”
“Of course. Least I can do for my favorite swordsman.” His cheeks go dark at your response. Just how you like it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Chapter 15 of The Dragon of Rosaria is up! The one where you see if you can live up to your dreams. If not Rosaria, then the Hideaway will do. Separately readable snippet below.
Clive Rosfield x female reader
---------------
You'll Need a Shield
On his way to report to Clive, Gav finds you sitting at a table close to the hunting board. The bright blue sky is your view, and you don’t notice him. Of course you don't, being lost in thought happens quite often. “You look like you're dying.” Gav comments, approaching you.
“Welcome back, jerk.” You reply, glancing over to the side at him. You seem aloof.
“Is it Clive again? What did you two do now.”
“And what if it was? Gonna make me apologize again?” You ask, gauging his reaction.
“What? No. I'll push him face first in some chocobo shit if that fixes the terrible history you two have.”
“...You would?” You stare at him in disbelief.
“Why does that get a reaction out of you..” Gav mumbles disappointed. You smile, and he sighs.
“How was the mission?”
“Good, I’m about to report. Want to join?”
“Uh. Why would I do that?”
“Then you can see how the pro’s work.” He grins, face too smug for your liking.
“Oh go fuck yourself, Gav.” But you follow him anyway.
Instant regret when you slip in Clive’s chambers behind Gav. “I’m back.” He announces, both of you approaching the desk. “Brought a little observer to see how I do things around ‘ere.” You groan at his comments. Truly, he doesn’t give a fuck about embarrassing you. Clive just looks up with a puzzled expression.
“...He was desperate to show me his report to you.” You say, which makes Gav cough awkwardly. Clive’s mouth quirks up slightly. The moment Gav starts talking, you zone out. This is nothing new, and there were other things on your mind. Would it have been realistic for you to ever be a Lord Commander? Were you actually as good as you thought you were? You thought about Cid’s charisma. Perhaps you had some of that.
“...” You concluded that after a few days of pondering. It’s unlike you to give up so quick. Cid’s voice makes you wince.
“...e?” It takes you a moment before realizing that both Clive and Gav are looking at you.
“Hmm?”
“Where did you go?” Gav asks, knowing it was not the conversation between the men.
“Uhm.” You don’t want to reply. “...Daydreaming.” Settling for that, you look at Gav with a small smile.
“About what?” Gav is not letting you go that easily.
“..Cid.” It earns you a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t be so casual in admitting that. Pervert.” He says, and your eyes widen.
“Being Cid! Jerk!” Your face briefly flushes in frustration, punching Gav in his shoulder.
“Sorry Clive, we’ll get back to work.” Gav apologizes with a smirk, ignoring the pain in his joint.
“...You want to be Cid?” Clive’s question is serious, his eyes on you.
“..I’ve entertained the thought.” You admit with a small stutter.
“Okay.” He doesn’t laugh or dismiss you outright. Gav is silent. Maybe it’s time to stop drawing up dreams in your mind and make some of them a reality. At least for a little while. You meet Clive’s gaze, determined.
“Let me be Cid for a month.” You say then, a ridiculous demand and you know it. You're in no state to be doing such a task, and they know it too.
“You think I don't trust you with the task?” Clive wonders. You shrug in response. If he was sane, he would outright deny the dangerous request. “Will you allow me to be your assistant?” He asks, and your mouth falls open.
“You're considering it?” Time for Clive to stand up.
“The first female Lord Commander right? You'll need a Shield. It's not Rosaria yet, but the Hideaway will be the perfect test.”
“I'll be your scout.” Gav grins. This could go horribly wrong, but the look on your face gave him hope. Clive reaches out his hand to you. Hesitantly you shake it.
“Are you sure?” You question.
“Are you having doubts?” He quips, not letting go of your hand.
“...Will you intervene if it goes to shit?” Both him and Gav shake their heads.
“I think you can handle shit.” Clive replies. Gav snickers.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Since the moment we first met, you have always been an important part of me. The half that makes me whole. When times are darkest, you are my light. When I am lost, you are my guiding star. You are just what I need. You are all I need. You are the greatest gift.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
New chapterrrr 14 is up, separate part below. We're at the tipping point of the enemies becoming something else. What better to kickstart that by running into reader masturbating?
Clive Rosfield x female reader, slightly nsfw because of the mentioned above.
-------
Perverted Old Man
It's been three weeks since your talk with Tomes. Gav has been carefully sparring with you, and you’re actually making progress. For as far as that is possible for someone with one arm. Besides that, the exercise is bringing back happy memories. Looking into the mirror this morning, you actually saw someone healthy. Eyes no longer sunken in your skull, and the training and moving around yielded a healthy set of muscles.
You're in a good mood, lazy smile on your face as your hand sinks into the hot water. You deserve the soothing water after a good workout and doing deliveries for Otto. Charon was kind enough to supply a cart. No one is here at this time in the afternoon. After plenty of good meals, your body is in good shape, and you don’t mind looking down at all. Droplets of water drip down your upper arms, strings of dampened water rising from the tub. Your hand slowly travels up to your chest, taking and softly squeezing each breast. The twinge in your stomach, warm shiver to your spine is a long forgotten sensation that now entertains. You smile, checking if no one is around before one hand goes low. It's been years since you last did this, letting your head fall back on the edge of the tub as you let your fingers do the work. Lazy circles down your clit as you sink further into the water. “..Hmm…” A warm blush creeps up your cheeks, hotter than the water you're in. A soft moan escapes your lips as your hips buckle at the right touch. You forgot how good this could feel, a moment of privacy and pleasure. Your toes curl after a few moments, orgasm long overdue, hitting you like a tidal wave.
—
Clive was wondering if he could find you in the bathing chamber. He heard from Gav about the training improving and was eager to hear of your experience. Moreover, he felt the need to apologize for saying you were like his mother. It kept gnawing at him. He hadn’t seen you in a while, and curiosity got the best of him. Looking around your usual spots, he wasn't able to find you. He was in dire need of a bath too, his hair greasy and grime stuck to his skin after his mission. So two flies with one stone would be perfect for his busy schedule. He didn't expect to find you masturbating in the tub, however. The loud groan escaping your lips painted a dark blush on his cheeks. He sees your face contorted in ecstasy. The door falls closed behind him, alarming you of his presence. You both freeze, faces hot. A moment of silence before Clive scrapes his throat.
“You perverted old man.” Your eyes narrow at him as you look back at the entrance.
“We're about the same age.” He stutters in reply.
“Not denying the other part I see.” He fell right into that one. “You came looking for me?” You ask, completely down from your high.
“..I was here to take a bath actually.”
“Sure. In your armor?” You shift your body so you're facing him. Clive nods briefly. Since you weren't moving, he starts undressing himself. He didn't care if you stayed, that was the idea after all. So you could talk for a moment. To your amused surprise. He takes off his armor piece by piece, putting them neatly in a designated basket. His back is facing you when he takes off his shirt. Rippled back muscles reveal themselves to you, and you're intrigued. Sitting back against the edge to enjoy the view, seeing a few scars from there. He'll probably take the adjacent, main bath. You realize you’re staring, but you don’t care, hand comfortably on the wooden edge of the tub. He doesn't slow down in taking off his trousers, treating you like you're not there. He starts washing himself, sitting on a nearby stool, a towel over his privates.
“I can see you smile.” Clive comments, not looking your way.
“...What of it?”
“It looks good on you.” Your lips part. No words come. Are you smiling because of that or because of Clive? Either way, you have no crude joke to make here. He washes the grime and blood off his skin like it was the most mundane basic routine in the world. For you it’s watching an exotic monster in the wild. You’d not be seeing this anytime soon. “Coeurl got your tongue?” He taunts casually, rolling his tired shoulders. Clive stands up, clean and ready for his bath. You watch as he swiftly gets in the water, after removing his towel. At least you're nice enough not to stare. From the tub, you can stare down at him, but a glance suffices.
“Hah. Was just thinking if I should recommend masturbating in the tub to you. Perhaps you’ll smile too.” A late answer to his previous question. You're grinning. The tiny quirky smile on his face makes you swallow. What the fuck? I need to get out of here.
“Maybe I will.” Is all he replies, eyes ahead as he sinks lower into the water. He looks good. Couldn't deny that.
“Will you let me draw you sometime? I think I'd do a great job.” You blurt out.
“What?” The puzzled look from Clive should be obvious. You quickly bury your head to clean your face again. Scrub that delirious grin off your face. “...Are you okay?” He asks, turning towards you.
“...Yes.”
“Why would you want to draw me?” His expression is pure curiosity.
“Forget I said anything.” You say, looking ahead.
He chuckles. “You don’t hate me at all, do you?” He's hanging towards you now, chin resting on his folded arms on the bath's edge, looking up at you. You give him a sideways glance.
“I can draw your body just fine while hating you, you know.” You manage to say, crossing your arms. His smile fades slightly, but doesn't move. A sigh escapes your lips. “But no. I don’t hate you, Rosfield. Give it some more time, and I’ll start tolerating you, even.”
“Looking forward to it.” Clive muses. A silence falls where both of you gaze ahead. “..Listen,” Clive starts after a moment. You shuffle in the tub, turning to face him. “I apologize for when I said you were like my mother. And pushed you against the wall. It was uncalled for.” The sincere look on his face makes you swallow.
“...I apologize too.” You feel like you should. “My response was unnecessary. Everything I said before as well.” You hadn't been proud of that conversation. A small appreciative smile appears on Clive's face. Another moment of silence, the only sound of rippling water echoing in the chamber. You decide to get out. Your hand is getting wrinkly, and you're painfully awkward with those quick glances. Clive’s gaze follows you to his side as you stand to grab a towel.
“I’m okay with you drawing me.” He says. “You’ve done so before.” He says as your back is turned towards him. “If I can fetch herbs for Tarja and ingredients for Molly, I might as well pose for your drawing.” There's a wry smile on your face as you dry yourself off. So desperate to help.
“Alright. Let me know when you have time.”
“Where will I find you? I wouldn't want to run into you like this again.”
“You don’t? I think it's one of our better conversations.” You grin at your feet, wet strands of hair sticking to your face. You wrap the soft cotton towel around you after a quick dry off.
Clive's smile widens. The moment you leave the chamber, his hand goes below the surface to grip his stiff cock. The smile falters. The image of you painting him -naked?-, combined by drying yourself off in front of him, got him…hard. It was the smile. “Fuck.” He whispers, completely forgetting to talk about your training.
kaledo-art
areudirty
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
izzy806
