#✰ミ angel’s halloween night of horrors

[pinkkittysaw]

BUT I CAN’T STOP STARING IN THOSE EVIL EYES

title is based off a lyric in lady gaga’s MONSTER

my halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!

pairing: plaga leon s. kennedy x plaga f!reader

summary: while wandering through an ill kept factory, you and leon grow closer in unimaginable ways due to unforeseen circumstances

word count: 5,648

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked!) minor dub-con (in the beginning), slightly rough leon, mind control, notes of voyuerism, fingering, male masturbation, boot humping, minor breast/nipple play, unprotected p in v, creampie, breeding, degradation, praise, petnames (baby, princess, sweetie) leon steps on you, reader is wearing a skirt

*some things to note: though saddler is willing leon and reader into having sex, they both want to sleep with each other of their own volition regardless of the plaga’s influence, it’s the circumstances surrounding it that makes them apprehensive

there are lines of dialogue from RE4R used in paragraphs 12, 14-15, 18, 23 & 39. i do not claim to own these lines or any media from Capcom

a/n: first time writing for leon so please be kind!!! i am just a simple mouse girl :( i thought it’d be interesting to write the plaga “overtaking” him and reader in a sense, watching his mood change drastically much like how it does in the OG RE 4 in this scene with ada (choking cw)

divider by @/benkeibear

You stare at the huge chunk of amber in front of you; it's pretty. The reflecting light gives it a soft orange hue, brightening the dull room it inhabits. After closer inspection, you notice what appears to be hundreds, if not thousands, of Las Plagas encased in the resin. You were almost too scared to be looking at them for so long, fearful that the parasites would jump out at you from their confinement once you crossed a certain threshold.

Cocking your head to the side, you think aloud, "I wonder if this is where they extract the plaga."

Leon, who's rummaging around the room looking for any spare supplies, pipes up, "Who knows? I certainly don't feel like waiting around to find out. Come on." He waves you over, walking toward the exit after determining that none of the scrap in the room was worth taking.

"Alright," you agree, beginning to move towards him.

Then, all of a sudden, your movements are halted, unable to continue forward. "Fuck, no no no,” you think to yourself. Leon looks behind his shoulder, noticing that you haven't moved from your position.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You can barely speak, clenching your teeth together as you force the words out.

"I can't fucking move." You demonstrate your lack of mobility as you attempt to force your body forward, but the most that happens is the slight twitching of your arm and legs.

"What?" Leon's about to stride over to you when the door opens behind him. He's quick on his feet, his gun in the air, aiming his pistol at the tall figure and a group of robed cultists that soon follow him into the room.

"Welcome, my children," he states as the two followers remove the hood of his purple robe, the rest filing around the two of you.

"I am Osmund Saddler. The speaker for our Lord."

Leon, obviously fed up with all the loony bullshit, shoots Saddler straight in the eye. "Tell someone who gives a shit."

Saddler reels back from the shot but doesn't die, staying hunched over due to the impact. "Foolish lambs," he scoffs. "Why do you deny grace?" The volume of his voice rises, and all at once, Leon keels over, taking a knee as he almost completely falls to the floor in front of you, now frozen in place while his gun falls from his hands.

You try to reach out to him, but your movements are stunted.

"Now, abandon your body." Your body is not your own.

"Obey, obey the voice of our lord," Saddler commands as your forced motions bring you closer to Leon. There's a ringing in your ears as he gives you orders; the noise is so piercing that you're ready to stuff your ears full of cotton just to make it stop.

Leon's now back on his feet, his veins turning black against his skin as his arm reaches out to you. His body trembles as he extends forward. You're compelled to move onward slowly, reaching down for Leon's pistol.

"Stop, please," you plead, your wrist swaying back and forth as the gun locks onto Leon. "No," you grit, resisting with everything you have while your arm continues to wobble. Tears stream down your face as you're forced to pull the trigger, shooting one of the cultists to Leon's side, watching them drop dead to the floor.

"Sweet child, do not resist." His commands turn into scolding. The ringing in your ears gets louder as your arm moves again. "Please," you wail into the open air, willing to give anything as long as it meant that he stayed alive. The trigger is pulled again, and the other masked figure drops to the ground.

Leon's face coils up, and his body jerks, trying to reach you, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry," you whisper as you pull the trigger for the final time, scrunching up your eyes, not wanting to witness his lifeless body drop to the floor. The gun clicks and falls in front of you while you collapse onto your knees, sobbing onto the floor beneath, your tears staining the dark concrete floors.

Leon is released from his own entrapment and rushes over to comfort you, placing both his hands on your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

It's funny, you think, in a twisted sort of way. You almost killed him, and here he was, asking if you were alright.

"Pray forgive these wicked sinners," Saddler exhales while shaking his head. Leon's about to lunge for his gun when you're both halted once more.

"Injecting one's blood with the plaga isn't the only way to diffuse it among the populous."

Both you and Leon are manipulated until you're standing in front of each other, his hand reaching out to grab at your hip.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not me, I-"

He gets cut off by Saddler. "The plaga can reproduce sexually as well as through implantation." And it's all of a sudden that you feel a certain heat growing inside you—desire, a sort of carnality—and if the crimson on Leon's cheeks is anything to go by, he's feeling it too. There's a certain glint in his eyes now, a hunger that wasn't there before. Both his and your irises turn a bright vermillion as the plaga fully takes control. It's overwhelming. All of your senses are heightened, now very much cognizant of Leon's hand on your hip, the warmth of his skin permeating through your skirt. All you want now is for him to bend you over and take you.

You shake your head in the hopes of clearing your mind. God, when did you start harboring such intense feelings for him like this? This can't be okay, can it? He saved your life. He's a government agent simply doing his job to rescue you from this hell hole. That's what these feelings are—just misplaced appreciation. You try to reason with yourself as the growing need between your legs calls more and more for your attention.

"What the hell's going on?" Your voice is harsh as it cuts through the air. Leon's grip tightens on your hip, almost as if he's holding himself back.

"Is it not obvious, sweet child? You two have perfect compatibility as sexual mates, and since you're both able to resist killing each other, I'll just have to change my line of thinking and make things easier for you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Leon grunts.

"Why deny it? It's quite clear that you're attracted to each other."

"I barely even needed to coax the plaga into doing anything."

As fucked up as this entire situation was, Saddler wasn't wrong, at least in regard to your side of things. You were intrigued by Leon from the moment he found you, rescuing you after being hog-tied and thrown into one of the wardrobes of an abandoned cabin. He was still incredibly handsome, even if you didn't trust him at first. From the subtle bounce of his soft ashen hair when he jogged to the bulge of his biceps whenever he slicked his fingers through the silky strands and how he was so protective over you, so kind. You could go on and on listing the things you found attractive about him. How he looked suplexing zealots, the slope of his nose bridge, his little smirk after roundhousing ganados, the thickness of his thighs, the swell of his **very** defined chest, and god, his ass. His cute, full-pert ass that you could just-

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

This isn't right. You shouldn't be thinking of him this way, but no matter how much you try to resist, you're always coaxed back into these feelings of sensuality. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think of him fucking you against one of the crumbling walls in the village, holding you so tightly against him while he tugs on your tits. Arousal pools in your panties as heat rushes to your face at the thought.

"Fuck," you murmur, and Leon looks over at you, his breath more labored than before. 

"Submit your bodies and release yourself from fear!" Saddler booms, waving his staff around in the air. It's then that you feel Leon's hand underneath your skirt, cupping your mound through your tights, his other hand still gripping at your waist. 

"Leon-" you say exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry, I just..." he leans into you, inhaling your scent. "I'm sorry." His lips press into the side of your neck, slowly moving against the sensitive skin. It's so gentle and kind, and if you close your eyes, you can almost pretend that you're somewhere else, not in a dusty room of an old factory, being coerced to have sex through the means of a parasite.

"You're so soft...smell so good," he mumbles into your ear. Even if you're forced to fuck in front of Saddler and his devotees, Leon at least wants his words of care and fondness to be private—to be yours.

You can't help but moan out loud at his ministrations on your neck, feeling your skin crawl with a newfound heat. Your nipples pebble in your bra, and how desperately you want his hands to be on your breasts, kneading them. You wrap your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into the smooth, pale tresses at his nape.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he confesses over and over. He knows this is wrong. He should have a stronger will than this. He shouldn't be sleeping with the hostage he was tasked with saving. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, if at all. He probably wouldn't have confronted his feelings in any other circumstances, seeing how wildly inappropriate they were. He would've rather taken you somewhere nice—maybe a fancy hotel—and do all the sappy, romantic shit you deserve—the candles, the music, the mood lighting. It'd be sweet and kind, but no. Instead, you get this, being made to breed like cattle. The only comfort he can offer is through his words, his mind trying to fight against the plaga, but you smell too good, your skin so supple and warm against his mouth; it's almost as if he can feel the blood pulsing through your jugular vein. He gently grazes his teeth over the area, biting and pulling the skin taught.

"Don't apologize. You feel good too," you exhale, pushing your chest against his.

"I shouldn't let this sick bastard have so much control over me, but god, you feel so good against me," he groans, worming his hand under the band of your tights and underwear. You loll your head back as his assault on your neck continues. He sucks the skin gently as the worn leather of his gloves makes its presence known against your mound. His finger swipes between your slit, gathering the wetness leaking from your entrance to rub soft circles on your clit.

"Christ, you're already so wet for me, baby," he groans against your neck, your breath hitching at his words.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" An amused tilt now present in his voice, the soft circles on your clit continuing as he speaks against your throat. "You like me calling you baby?"

"Yeah," you mewl, your hand reaching down to grip his forearm.

"That's it. Just focus on me making you feel good." Your cute noises cause blood to rush to his cock, making it stiffen in his pants. Your head rests against his chest as he continues to play with you.

"You want my fingers, baby?"

"Yes," you pant, pressing your face into the middle of his chest. He lets out a lighthearted chuckle, his digit circling your entrance before sinking into your warm cunt. "Oooh, you're so tight, sweetie. Squeezing my finger real nice."

"I can't wait til you're on my cock." he mumbles against your throat once again, smirking. His finger curls deep into your soaked pussy, thrusting in and out as you grind against his palm.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasp, his lips resuming the suckling of your skin as he adds another finger, stuffing your cunt with their thickness, the leather of his gloves wet with your slick as it glides against your clit. You look down from his chest to see his hardened cock starting to poke through his utility pants. Your hand wriggling down to slowly palm him through the fabric, a soft moan rearing from his throat at your touch.

Through feeling him against your palm, he seems to be an impressive size, definitely girthy from what you can make out.

You slide your hand back and forth against the crotch of his pants, his hips lightly bucking into you as a grumbled "fuck" falls from his lips. He sounds so hot when he moans, and you want to hear more.

"I need you to come for me, sweetheart. I need your pussy on my cock so bad." He curls his fingers some more, hitting that soft, spongey spot that makes you see stars. A few more thrusts from his digits and nudges from his palm have you arching into him, his mouth swooping down to swallow your moans through a kiss. He's the only one that gets to hear you cum, despite the audience you both have.

He keeps his fingers stuffed in your cunt as you ride out your orgasm, the sensation of your pussy squeezing down on him making his head whirl in anticipation.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he murmurs, guiding you through the waves.

Despite having just came, you're still just as eager, if not more so, to palm him through his black cargos. 

"Easy, easy. You'll have me soon enough," he coos in an attempt to pacify you, removing your hand from his erection while you whine and grumble in response to the loss of touch, wanting him to mount you already.

He guides you onto the floor, laying you flat on the chilled concrete. The cold seeps into your clothes and skin, causing you to shiver almost uncomfortably so as you arch your back, spreading your legs as far as they'll go in your tight skirt. You take to palming your tits through your top, desperate for any kind of prolonged pleasure. 

"Someone's needy," he chuckles to himself while he looms over you, his broad shoulders casting a large shadow over your form.

"Come on, you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" He moves to remove both of his belts, unbuckling them and letting them drop to the floor. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision to leave himself so exposed, but neither of you could be bothered enough to care.

The next thing to come off was his shoulder holster, the leather straps meeting the other discarded materials on the floor. It's only after his confines are removed that he begins pleasuring himself, reveling in your position on the floor, legs spread deliciously while the rest of you becomes utterly debauched, your expression filled with nothing other than need and want.

You whine out a little, desperate for his touch even after the fact. He smirks while walking toward you, his heavy boots echoing throughout the room with loud thuds til he stops just short of your cunt and sneers. Something about him is different. 

He plants his foot atop your mound, grinding the sole into your folds. There's no real force behind it, but it's oppressive and demeaning. He's not the same Leon. The Leon who told dumb jokes at every opportune moment, who ate multicolored herbs, both raw eggs and fish WHOLE, yet looked at you as if you were the crazy one for refusing, choosing not to believe him when he said they'd "mend your wounds." This was not the same Leon who pulled you aside after you ran off scared, giving you words of reassurance and encouragement just as he had throughout this whole endeavor. No, this Leon was more sinister.

Your whines and mewls get a little more pathetic, rolling your hips and grinding yourself on his boot in a desperate attempt for any friction that he'd give you—which wasn't much, but still, anything was better than nothing!

In the midst of your pouting, you catch Saddler's eye. His expression is blank, almost as if he were watching paint dry. His attendants were dismissed by this point, as they had no need to witness the impregnation take place. You can't help but stare at him, his eyes oddly captivating, unable to help but wonder what he thinks of this. Surely he’s the one controlling you both, but is this a last effort of sorts? Making two "subjects" fuck like rabbits just for the sake of spreading his message, his word, and his so-called "vision" Was sex something that he looked down on? Something shameful?

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Leon whistles at you. "Would you rather fuck him instead, princess?" He jeers in a mocking tone. You frown and furrow your brows, glaring at him as you deliver a bratty "no" in response.

"Then keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He sneers as he grinds his heel into you some more, swiping his foot from side to side, knocking the grooves into your clit. He laughs as you continuously mewl into the air, squeezing your tits through your clothes, begging for more attention. Instead of aiding you in your frustrated disposition, he decides to be a little crueler, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. His head lolls back as he lets out a soft groan, the sound causing more arousal to flood in between your legs.

You moan, your eyes scanning his features—the bob of his Adam's apple, the softness of his jaw, the way his teeth dig into the plush of his bottom lip.

Deciding to prod further, he pulls out his leaking cock from his pants, and you can't help the gasp that escapes you at the sight. He has an adorable ash-blonde happy trail running down his navel that fans into darker, coarse curls at the base of his cock. It has a slight left curve to it and a pretty pink tip. The look of it is tantalizing and mouth-watering. Your mind is flooded with every memory you’ve had of wanting Leon to fuck you silly during this godforsaken nightmare. Now you have a visual to go along with your many fantasies—a pretty cock for an equally pretty man.

You expected him to be in a hurry to fuck you, but he does something unexpected. He keeps his foot on your cunt. You attempt to sit up, your abdomen contracting as you begin to move upward, when he plants his boot on your chest instead, right on your sternum, effectively pushing you flat on your back again.

"Did I give you permission to move?" He stares, cocking his head and quirking a brow, looking down at you as if he were scolding a misbehaving puppy. His carmine irises meet yours as you attempt to shove off his foot by his ankle, though soon finding it pointless as the boot remains firm and steady against you.

You shake your head with a petulant "no," grumbling as his foot takes hold of your chest, pressing lightly on your rib cage, making it somewhat difficult to breathe.

"Then don't get greedy," he chastises, moving his boot back to its previous position on your cunt, leaving a muddy footprint in its wake. Instead of providing you with the friction you wanted, his limb now lays idle against you.

You frown at the brown stain left on your top, glaring at him once more. "You ruined my shirt!"

"I'll tell you what: when this is all said and done, I'll get you a new top. How bout that princess?"

You roll your eyes, grumbling as his hand moves toward his mouth, yanking off his fingerless gloves with his teeth and tossing them among the pile of his other forgotten items.

Warm palms slither down his torso, making their way to his cock, where he squeezes the base, shaking it in the air a tad, teasing you with it.

It's well-known at this point how much you desire him. The plaga floods both of you with nothing but thoughts of you two fucking each other. He watches you eye his cock thoroughly, gnawing at your bottom lip with how badly you wanted him to fill you up.

He languidly begins to pump his hand up and down, precum leaking from his pretty tip all the way down his shaft, creating all the slip he needs. You start to buck your hips against his boot, desperate for your own pleasure, which he still refuses to give you. His hand continues to move along his cock; the rough callouses on his palm are a stark contrast to the glisten of his slick-covered dick.

You huff and puff as he continues to jerk off, growing tired of being teased and tormented. His thumb glides along the slit of his cock head, causing his hips to buck and shudder. You were like a rabbit on a treadmill, his cock being the carrot on the string you were being teased with, so close yet so far...

"Leon, you're being mean," you scowl, feeling grumpy and grouchy, tired of his damn games, your panties soaked through with your arousal, craving any sort of attention.

"Mean?" he asks, pressing his foot further into you, pumping himself a smidgen faster while his pectoral muscle begins to bounce with his quickened pace.

"If I were mean, I'd make you cum just like this while you watch me jack off."

"And since you want to act like such a little brat, maybe that's exactly what I'll do." He speeds up again, twirling his wrist as he fucks his fist, his grunts and groans filling the air among your whines.

"No, no, no, no," you cry, watching him buck into his hand as the slick makes his cock even more slippery.

A pink hue floods his cheeks as heat builds in his body, sweat gathering on the threads of his clothes.

"No?" he mocks with a feigned pout. "You want my cock that badly, huh? Want it to fill you up? Stuff you full?"

"Mhm," you nod incessantly, heat flooding your own face as well, the arousal so overwhelming that you feel as if you’ll burst.

"Why don't you beg for it? Beg for my cock."

You look at him apprehensively. Was he really gonna make you beg for him like a cock-hungry fool?

"I'm not joking about finishing you off with my boot. You'll get no dick and no cum." His efforts hastened, his hips twitching every so often. He’s serious, and so are you, so despite your "strong-willed bratty nature," you beg and you plead for his cock like a good girl.

"Please gimme your cock, Leon. Need it so bad. Need you to fuck me dumb; turn my brain into mush."

"I think you can do better than that princess," he smirks down at you, huffing slightly from the continued pleasure.

Your words turn into a slew of pleas and jumbled moans varying from saying you'll "die without his dick," "how badly you need it," and "how desperate you are for it," all of which boil down to you whining please over and over and over. When he's finally decided that you've made your case, he staves off his release, gripping the base of his cock so as not to finish right in his hand.

He drops to his knees, grabbing and pulling you towards him by your hips, your thighs settling on either side of his while he hovers over you. All his movements are quick and hasty in nature as he hikes up the bottom of your skirt over your pelvis, allowing you to spread your legs further and welcome him into the warmth between your thighs.

He stares down at your black tights below him, now transparent enough to see through to your pale-colored underwear from the fabric being stretched so far. He wastes no time in grabbing the crotch of your tights at the seam and effectively tearing a huge hole in them, his biceps bulging as he rips the fabric from your body. He stares down at the cute design of your panties as your tights lay in shreds against your leg, his eyes settling on the front of the fabric, the wet splotch soaking through from your previous orgasm.

He moves his hand over to your cunt, running his middle and ring fingers through your slit. He settles on your clit, rubbing the sticky fabric against you as he swirls the bundle of nerves in slow circles.

"I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I'm surprised that I held out as long as I did without fucking you."

"Leon," you groan. "No more… I wanna feel you, please," you mumble, reaching out to him as a final stand to get what you desperately crave.

He finally gives in, tugging down the waistband of his pants, landing on the swell of his thighs and below the curve of his ass, exposing the stretch marks that litter his hips and upper thighs.

"See something you like, princess?" he teases, pumping his cock a few times in preparation.

"Mhm, mhm," you nod eagerly as he begins to move toward you. Luckily, your panties are spared from his strength as he chooses to simply pull them aside instead of tearing them apart. He mumbles a grumbly "fuck" as he gets a look at your sweet cunt for the first time. The hair covering your mound shines as your arousal spreads throughout your folds. He doesn’t stop himself from running a finger in between the seam of your pussy, gathering the slick on the pad of his digit and sticking it in his mouth, groaning at the taste of your sweetness.

"Delicious," he mutters as he lays his cock against the warm heat of your sex, giving you a closer look at just how big he is.

He lines himself up at your entrance, and without so much as a warning, he thrusts into you down to the base. You arch into him, your breasts pressing into his chest as your back curves in his direction, a hearty moan coming from both of you. He stretches you out better than in your fantasies, your warm, wet walls clenching down on him as he twitches inside.

"Let's take care of this, yeah?" He asks, lifting your upper half into the air and placing you on your elbows. He lifts your top over the peak of your breasts, ogling the sight of your tits filling out your bra, trapped within their confinement, before he's reaching behind you to fumble with the clasp of the garment. A part of you is amused while watching him struggle, but it's not long after that the cups are falling from your body, your breasts free to Leon’s eyes and the open air as he pulls the straps down your shoulders, flinging the undergarment toward the pile of other forgotten items. He decides to keep your shirt on, enjoying the disheveled, fucked-out look you have with your clothes half on and half off, letting the top stay wrinkled above your tits.

"Perfect," he mumbles, moving his head toward your chest to mouth at it, planting open-mouth kisses along the swell of your breast as his hips begin to roll languidly. He gives you a few slow strokes, just to get acquainted with each other's bodies, before it quickly turns into a hurried fucking.

His hips knock into yours in quick succession, his girth smoothing over every ridge and groove in your tight cunt, leaving you panting into the air as he grunts and groans against your breast. His body pressed so tightly against yours.

His lips find your nipple, his tongue swirling around the areola before pulling the nub into his mouth. The roll of his hips and the suckling of your nipple add to your growing pleasure. You buck your hips in tandem with his, desperate to feel every bit of pleasure you can.

"So greedy, huh, princess? Just need your cute cunt, fucked huh? Anything goes as long as you feel good, right?"

You whine, clenching down on him, squeezing his cock tight as he fucks you thoroughly. He pulls away from your chest, grabbing your hips tight in his grasp, his fingers digging deep into your skin.

"God, you’re perfect for me," he mumbles, leaning back so he's standing straight on his knees, his hands pulling you down on his cock as he brutally thrusts back into you. "So perfect for me to breed." You swear you can see a glint in his eyes as he says that, and your pussy pulsates around him even more.

"You like that, huh?" he teases, punctuating every word in the sentence with a brutal thrust. "You like the thought of being all mine? being claimed by me? Me fucking my kids into you? Knocking you up?"

You mewl and wail, nodding and gasping and heaving; the only thing you care about at this moment is him fucking you full of his seed.

The snap of his hips continues to get quicker, your soft breasts bouncing so pretty as you lay beneath him, your worn and fucked-out expression giving him nothing but joy. His rhythm gets so quick that he manages to slip out of your vice-like grip, causing a low and extended whine to draw out from your lips. He chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are for his body, and leans himself into you once more while he guides his cock back into you, his thrusts regaining their previous speed.

His hand pushes one of your thighs toward your chest, rolling his hips deeper so he can more easily hit the spot that makes your eyes cross, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter as he fucks into you with more vigor. You can’t stop your hands from wandering as you grab the plush of his ass, squeezing the fat while you writhe underneath him. You pant into his mouth, trying to signal him for a kiss, to which he happily obliges, meeting your lips with his as he continues to drive you further and further to the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, princess?"

"Gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?"

"Want it so bad, please?" You moan, sneaking your hand down to the front of your body and rubbing quick circles to your clit.

"Go ahead, princess, cum for me," he mumbles, nestling his head in the crux of your neck, sucking on your pulse point. As his hips continue to thrust into you, you arch intensely into him, moaning loudly as you reach your climax, your eyes rolling into the recesses of your mind as your nails claw into the meat of his ass, leaving pretty, red crescent-shaped divots in his porcelain skin.

You run your hand through his silky blonde strands as you position yourself next to his ear. "Cum with me, Leon," you mutter, still reeling from the aftereffects of your high, the additional thrusting adding to the lingering pleasure still felt. "Cum in me, please. Wanna be stuffed full of you." You lick a stripe up his neck, the salt from his sweat lingering on your tastebuds.

It's a few short and sloppy thrusts later that he's grunting loudly into your skin while he cums, ropes of his seed traveling to your womb.

The door can be heard shutting behind you as Saddler makes his exit, Leon's hips slowing to a full stop once he’s left. With the impregnation going through, he no longer needs to bother himself with whatever the two of you do from here on out.

It’s a few minutes later that the both of you begin to feel normal again, or as normal as you can be given the dire situation. It doesn’t take long for Leon to recover, his baby blues greeting you once more as he snaps to attention, getting himself situated as he puts on his gear and adjusts his clothes, keeping a watchful eye on you as you start to do the same, picking up your bra from his things on the floor.

After getting dressed, he’s immediately at your side. "I'm so sorry. I-"

You cut him off with a finger placed on his lips and a shake of your head. Your face is tired and weary, and your voice a little strained as you tell him, "It's alright."

He’s not willing to argue with you on the ethics of what went down, at least not here, so he decides to put off the conversation til you’re both safe back home, hopefully having figured out some sort of plan by then.

"Are you good enough to move? We shouldn't linger around."

You nod, moving to fully take off your tights before making your departure, seeing as you have no more use for the tattered fabric. The torn material catches his eye, causing embarrassment to rise throughout his face, his cheeks taking on the same rosy hue as before.

"I'll make good on my word, I promise. I’ll get you a new shirt and some tights when we get back. For now…"  He walks towards the exit. "We need to get rid of these damn things," he says, pointing to his chest. He checks his jammed gun, ejecting the magazine and resetting the casing before gesturing you over toward him, readying the weapon in front of him before the two of you begin to make your way out of the factory.

Needless to say, this would NOT be going in his incident report.

[pinkkittysaw]

HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF

title is based off the song hungry like the wolf by duran duran

halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!

pairing: werewolf clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: your lover always disappears on the night of a full moon every month and you’re determined to figure out why

word count: 8,331 (don’t perceive me 🫣)

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked) minor plot spoilers, monsterfucking, teratophilia, knotting, blood, choking, established relationship, slight dumbification, minor breast/nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge/pushing, spit, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, scent kink, scratching, biting, one spank, hints of degradation, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, love) reader is wearing a dress

* i want to give a BIG thank you to @strawberrystepmom for answering all my anatomical questions and helping me through my writing process! she also has a werewolf fic of her own if you want to check it out ^_^

a/n: AND I LASTED TEN ROUNDS LIKE A FREAKKKKK LIKE A GGGGGGGGG. this was inspired by the beach scene with clive and jill, iykyk. I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN THANKS TO THEM!!truly did not expect this to get as long as it did but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

recommended listening for this fic is MONSTER by lady gaga

divider by @/benkeibear

Waves crash at your toes from where you stand on the shoreline, and the fire you made from scattered kindling on the rocky beach crackles in the background, its golden flame shining bright against the navy blue sky.

You sigh, staring into the dark ether, hoping and praying for an answer to your troubles. The cold water laps at your feet, manifesting a shiver in your spine that flows throughout the rest of your body. Grumbling, you glare back at Metia and the full moon with disdain, acting as if the two of them were in cahoots with each other, taunting you. You huff, shoving your arms to your sides with clenched fists as you continue to bitch, arguing with the moon and stars above.

"You're not even going to help me? Even though you're the cause of all this?"

Your index finger is shoved into the sky, pointing directly at the hunk of rock that floats within it, and it's not long after that gust of wind blows through you, billowing through the skirt of your pale dress, causing it to fly in right your face, a protest of sorts in response to the little tantrum you were throwing.

You fold the fabric back down onto your legs, holding its hem while letting out a snide, "Well, I hope the two of you are enjoying yourselves," before you turn your back in defiance and slosh through the ankle-deep water toward the fire, choosing to settle down on your bed roll for the night.

You shouldn't be surprised. All your prayers turned out to be for naught; it'd be foolish to think that this time would be any different.

You pout and pull your knees to your chest, settling your cheeks on the joints of your legs as you stare into the fiery embers, the sand scratching the skin between your toes as they curl into the seashore. You had long since forgone your sandals, as keeping the granules out of the material proved to be a losing battle.

"This was such a foolish idea," you mutter to yourself, choosing to reflect on the actions that brought you here.

You and Clive had been courting for several months now, and in that time you began to notice a particular pattern he developed. During the three days surrounding every full moon, he always disappeared without a trace, unable to be found anywhere in the hideaway.

It wasn't uncommon for Clive to be away from the hideout; if anything, he was probably away from it more than he wasn't, always coming to someone's aid. As long as they roamed the lands of Valisthea, he'd be there.

But after three separate occurrences of him disappearing around the same set of circumstances, it began to look less and less like a coincidence and more like a habit. The first two times he "vanished," you had attributed the cause to "business as usual," assuming he was off assisting the curse breakers or aiding in the transportation of recently freed bearers, but the longer the two of you stayed together, the more prominent his disappearances became. 

You had confronted him about it once, apprehensively inquiring if he had taken on another lover during his time away. You heard the tale of his time in North Reach before he, Cid, and Jill eventually set their sights on destroying Drake's head. Maybe he'd found a courtesan at The Veil on his returning trip to Sanbreque after word of Isabelle needing his assistance came in.

He immediately shot the notion down, sympathizing with your cause of concern. He reassured you that you were the only one for him, and you believed him, of course. He's been nothing but loyal and devoted to you throughout your whole relationship so far. Even Jill stepped in and vouched for him at one point, stating that "cheating was far beneath him" and that he "treasured you more than anything else in the realm."

Yet he still didn't do much in providing an actual explanation for where he was going, stumbling through an excuse about the Mothercrystals and needing to stay away for your protection, but the risks of danger hadn't stopped him from brainstorming strategies with you before, so why now all of a sudden was he coddling you like a child? If not a secret lover, then what else could be hiding from you? Not even the collection of books residing in the Shelves provided an answer as to why your lover would disappear for three days time every full moon.

The longer this went on, the more you assumed everyone was just taking the piss out of you. Sure, most people in the hideaway were often busy with their own assignments, but you couldn't have been the only person who noticed a similar pattern of behavior, right?

You took to asking people around the hideout if they noticed a change in Clive's demeanor, with most of them stating that he'd been acting as he usually would, nothing out of the ordinary, while some others, mainly Tarja, thought it'd be funny to get a bit cheeky with you, commenting, "Wouldn't you be the one to notice if he was behaving strangely?" She means no real offense, so you try your best not to get frustrated with the more empty answers you're handed. It wasn't their fault that your lover was so cagey about his whereabouts. It's not like they were his keeper, as he was the one everyone answered to. You even took to inquiring Otto about it, though it didn't prove to be any more fruitful as he spat out the same Mothercrystals excuse as Clive did.

Your last and final hope was Jill. She had known Clive the longest—since they were children; if anyone were to have insight on what was going on with him, it'd be her, but you're met with similar responses as Clive and Otto. An apprehensive look crossed her features when you asked her if she knew why Clive was disappearing each month or where he went. She simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and stated that she hadn't noticed anything strange going on with him, which only proved to make you more suspicious. 

Having had enough of the unanswered questions, you decided that the (not-so) smartest thing to do would be to take a little trip during the week of the full moon and not tell anyone. Was it a bit selfish? Desperate? Yes, but you rationalized that if you disappeared during that time, Clive would have no choice but to come out of hiding and look for you, thus leaving you free to discuss his whereabouts. It definitely wasn't the most well-thought-out plan you've ever come up with, but the lack of transparency was beginning to drive you mad.

The next few weeks were spent making preparations for the trip ahead in secret, taking on extra assignments to save up gil so you could spend a few nights at an inn. The night before your departure, you decided to take on all outstanding alliant reports on the bulletin while everyone was asleep so that you could circumvent a scolding from Otto about skipping out on your duties when you returned.

Early to rise the next morning, you gather a small pack of your belongings and shuffle off toward the pier before Clive awoke, careful to slip from his gentle embrace so as to not rouse him from his slumber. You glance down at his sleeping face, taking in how peaceful he looked while resting.

You gather your pack and make your way toward the boats. The sunrise on the open water is a stark contrast to the scowl that Obolus greets you with so early in the day.

"Good morning!" You beam, your smile shining brightly in his direction, as you carefully step onto the ferry.

"Someone's rather chipper this morning," he snickers, preparing to set sail in the blighted waters.

"You could say that," you respond, taking your seat on the wooden boards as the vessel starts to bob in the water and glancing back as the hideaway comes to life, everyone beginning to start their day.

When choosing a destination for this little excursion, you soon realized that there was only one correct choice, so you set your sights on Rosaria, having expressed wanting to return there to Clive before, so if he truly knew you as well as he claimed, he'd have no trouble finding you.

The majority of your time was spent at Martha's Rest, helping her out with the ever-growing cray claw population that seemed to be terrorizing most merchants traveling in the area. It was peaceful, with most nights spent exchanging tales with the locals over pints of ale.

On the day before the full moon, Martha half-joked about keeping you stationed with her, finding your company to be most pleasant, and though you couldn't make any promises, you assured her that you would stop by whenever time allowed.

It was only on the night of the full moon itself that you decided to take to the sea. The salty air and crash of the waves gave you a sense of tranquility unlike any other. It was almost as if you could sit back and forget all the horrors of the world around you.

As you draw swirl patterns into the sand with your finger, you begin to wonder if Clive will ever find you. Maybe he never even realized you were gone, and you'd be forced to return home with your tail between your legs, not having gotten any closer to the answers you so desired.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Clive was actively on the hunt, having noticed your disappearance shortly after your departure that morning. The space beside him in bed was cold and empty when he awoke. Though confused, he didn't think much of it; sometimes people are being sent away as reinforcements without much notice.

His day went pretty much the same as normal, though an underlying discomfort lay deep within him, wishing to share details of upcoming plans with you but being unable to.

It's not until you don't return that evening that he begins to get antsy. Deciding that he doesn't want to come across as overly possessive, he manages to hold his tongue, only voicing his concerns about your absence that night at the ale hall during supper, his dining mates recounting that they haven't seen you but to "not fret as you were probably just sent away on an overnight assignment."

He nods, taking some solace in their words as he sips from his mug, washing down the food. They were probably right; you were just off helping someone somewhere, but knowing that doesn't make his restless nights go by any easier, leaving him to toss and turn in his sleep without you.

It's not til three days go by without so much as a whisper of your whereabouts that he decides to go looking for you, finding one of your undershirts and stuffing the material into the pouch on the back of his belt. He goes out in search of Otto, hoping to find some information in regard to your whereabouts, but it's when he comes up empty in regard to your station that he really starts to panic. He informs the elder man that he'll be out for an unspecified amount of time and to make sure all missives are delivered to his desk upon his return, then storms off to the pier with a look something fierce in his eyes as he demands Obolus take him to where you disembarked. Obolus, not wanting to argue with a clearly pissed-off Clive, rows him to the destination.

You're distracted from your wallowing upon hearing a shrill howl in the distance. Quick to refocus, you swivel your head back and forth in all directions to try and determine the location of the sound. That's when you see it—a dark figure perched upon one of the nearby cliffs. The midnight sky shrouds the size and shape of the creature, though its piercing azure eyes remain distinct amongst the sea of black, piercing right through you from the tall height. 

Just as quickly as you make eye contact with the creature, it lurches from its spot on the cliff, prowling toward you like a predator honing in on its next meal, sniffing as if it smells your fear and your very blood running cold. Only when it's within range of the fire's flame are you able to tell what lingers in the dark. A wolf. Its fur is as dark as a raven's feather, black like soot, and much different from the standard mix of greys and whites of the usual worgens. Rosaria was no stranger to wolves, but they were never of this magnitude; its body was almost double the size of the usual stray. You're confused as to what it was doing so far out from the greenery; was this a newly created breed? Made solely for the purpose of hunting lost damsels wandering the coast at night?

As it draws near, you're unable to look away, its eyes drawing you into a trance, captivating yet familiar, almost as if you've seen them before.

It snarls at you, its ears and lips drawing back to expose the glint of sharpened canines that await you, its tail sharp and stiff, a warning sign: DANGER! DANGER!

You scoot backward in the sand toward your sword, buried in the sand. The wolf is still approaching just as slowly, its bark and growls echoing off the ocean and ringing back into your ears. Was this how you were going to meet your end? Slaughtered and torn to shreds by a rouge wolf, becoming its dinner, never to be seen again while your corpse decays on an abandoned beach?

You feel the cold steel amongst the granules and unsheath your blade, drawing it slowly as you rise to your feet. You do your best to steady your nerves, your heart hammering in your chest so wildly that you're assured that the beast can hear its drum as well. Though skilled with a sword, the circumstances couldn't be more against your favor; the instability of the sand and poor lighting make it more likely that you'll topple over and impale yourself before ever slaying the creature.

It growls once more, rearing its hind legs, ready to pounce. You brace yourself for impact, taking your best stance as the wolf leaps into the air. You're knocked flat on your back on the bumpy terrain, your sword falling from your hand as the air is strangled from your lungs, your body aching from the collision. It stands over you now, nose to nose with the beast that'd be your undoing. Its drool leaks onto your face; puffs of air are exhaled and manifested into the ether as it breathes in and out. You clench your eyes shut as it leans closer, praying that your death will be swift when you feel...a lick?

The long, fleshy tongue makes a slobbery mess of your cheeks and face as the wolf wags its bushy tail back and forth. This was bizarre, but you'd much rather be covered in sloppy hound kisses than be torn to shreds, so you accept your strange fate while continuing to giggle.

"I never expected to make a friend all the way out here," you coo, giving your best baby voice as you scratch the hound behind the ears.

A few moments later, you're blinded by a bright, pale light, transforming the once yipping black wolf into...Clive? Or at least you think it's Clive. It looks like him, the figure possessing the same crystalline eyes and dark shaggy hair, yet he still looks vastly different, as if he were half-beast, retaining the increased height, bulk, and hair as he did in wolf form. The rounded, fluffy ears and sharpened fangs are still present as well. You don't even realize he's naked at first due to the amount of thick, coarse hair covering his body, only being able to tell when you catch a glimpse of the few more intimate scars that lay between the follicles, reflecting in the flame's light.

He falls to his hands and knees, scampering toward you, pulling you close by the arm for a chaste kiss.

"Ouch," you squeak, scuttling backward as something sharp pricks your skin. He's quick to pull away, and that's when you notice the claws extending from the tips of his fingers, curled and sharpened to a fine point.

"My apologies; I'm, uh, not used to touching people when I look like this." He reaches out to cup your face, frowning a little as you twitch backward at the sight of his large hand. His fingers are gentle as they caress the sensitive skin of your cheek and neck, not wanting to startle you further.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Where have you been? What if something happened to you? What if-?" He begins to question, losing himself in the possibility of what ifs

"Clive," you cut him off, raising your eyebrows to stare at him like he's just grown two heads. He tilts his head to the side, perplexed, while you ask, "Are you not going to explain what's going on with you?"

"You're... a beast."

He sighs, sitting back on his hind with a dejected posture. "This," he gestures up and down his body, "is what I was trying to protect you from."

His eye catches a glimmer upon your flesh, trailing from your bicep to your forearm.

"You're bleeding," he mutters, turning your arm in his grasp to get a better view.

"It's alright," you stammer, reaching up to apply pressure to the cut when he looms over you, extending his head and tongue toward the abrasion, lapping at it quickly. You're taken aback at first, quirking an eyebrow in his direction, but soon realize that this is his means of comforting you, in his own dog sort of way.  His tongue also maintained its wolf-like qualities—long, pink, and rough—yet it didn't feel too unpleasant on the skin. The cool breeze against the wet saliva on your skin creates goosebumps along your body.

He continues to tend to your cut til he's assured the bleeding has stopped and the metallic tang no longer gracing his tastebuds. He pulls back, sitting on his rear once again. "You still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine. I've seen a lot of freaky things in my lifetime, Clive, but this...this requires an explanation."

A beat of silence passes as the two of you sit in front of the fire, illuminated in its orange haze. A small breeze of wind blows through the both of you, the moon and stars shine down from above.

He exhales defeatedly. "I'm... a werewolf."

You scoff, finding the words a bit silly coming out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's true.  I was turned that night at Phoenix Gate all those years ago. It was the only way I could've survived." He pauses, lowering his head and drawing his ears back once again. "I never found the person who turned me—I don't believe I ever will. Though sometimes I wonder if saving me was worth it, seeing as it turns me into a monster."

"Clive..."

He shakes his head, ruffling his fur, a toothy grin adorning his features. "Never mind that."

"Every full moon, I transform into this beast against my will. That's why I'm away so often. That and well..." His words trail off as his eyes make contact with yours across the fire, scanning your face and body.

"Well, what?"

"Nothing," he smiles, eyes softening as he continues to look at you. "Now it's your turn; what in Founder's name are you doing all the way out here?"

You chuckle timidly, heat flooding your face—the likes of which you hope he can't see as you scoot away from him slightly, wishing you could bury your head in the sand for reacting so poorly.

"It's silly... and dumb," you mumble, trying to wave him off, turning your back toward him in an attempt to hide any further embarrassment. He grabs your hands in his, the size of them eclipsing your own, while he pulls you closer to him.

"It's not dumb, not to me," he says, running a fur-covered finger up and down your cheek. "Besides, it can't possibly be any dumber than me turning into a wolf," he chuckles.

You sigh, closing your eyes in preparation. "I was getting frustrated with the lack of communication, so I decided to just..."

"Run away?"

"Aye." You hang your head low in shame, kicking up a cloud of dust from the sand with your toes, feeling stupid and childish for having reacted this way.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. It wasn't fair to you."

"It's alright."

He cups your jaw, nudging your chin up between his grip so that you're both on eye level, his eyes much sharper than before. "It's not alright, love, we're a partnership. We're supposed to trust each other, and we can't do that if I'm not being honest with you. I'll do better from here on, alright? I promise."

You give him a sickly-sweet smile, nodding in agreement as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

"So how did you find me? I mean, I was hoping you would, but still, I'm curious."

"You really want to know? It's quite embarrassing."

"Now I most definitely want to know," you giggle, leaning toward him.

"Well, I uhm..." He becomes more bashful as he continues on. "I tracked your scent."

"I pulled one of your tunics from the laundry bin and used that to help me track you down."

"My scent?"

"Mhm," he grumbles, slowly leaning into you more and more, causing you to fall back on your hands as he draws near. "Your musk is very distinct. There's nothing else in Valisthea quite like it." He gets closer and closer, nudging his head under the skirt of your dress, getting incredibly close toward the apex of your thighs before taking a big whiff. "And oh, so addicting." Your eyelashes flutter in surprise, building heat throughout your body. This had to be some wolf thing, right? He never acted like this before.

You place your foot on his shoulder, pushing him back on his haunches, trying to shoo him away from under your dress with a subdued "Down boy."

He snarls faintly before wrapping his hand around your ankle and pulling you toward him, effectively dragging your body through the sand, scratching up your back, and getting the granules caught in your dress and hair. It'd take weeks for you to wash it all out.

He tugs on your leg til you're dangling in the air, holding you up as if you weigh nothing, yanking you higher and higher til your sweet cunt is pressed against his nose once more. He takes another huge whiff of your pussy and relishes in the scent that fills his nostrils. Your body contorts slightly, your abdomen tightening while you hold down the part of your dress that's fallen in your face, only to see him nosing at your underwear, licking his lips, and staring at you like you were a big piece of meat.

"I can smell you, you know," he whispers, licking a broad stripe against your folds through the gusset of your underwear. You can't help but thrash in the air, your back arching as the width of his tongue reaches every crevice of your cunt in one fell swoop. Oh, this was certainly different, but you liked it.

"I can smell your arousal, Founder, your scent is so addicting." He nuzzles into your pussy again, rubbing his nose back and forth over your clit through your underwear, grinning at your desperate mewls and whines.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and delivers another broad lick to your panties, effectively soaking them with his drool. "And taste even better," he winks. "But your scent isn't the only thing I can sense. Your heart rate has increased quite significantly, as well as your breathing." Partly from fear but mostly from arousal.

another broad lick and a sniff

"You're probably debating whether or not it's okay to be attracted to me while I'm like this."

another lick

"Mmm, fuck," he growls as more of your essence pools in your knickers. "But don't worry, I can make the decision for the both of us." He gives an airy laugh.

another sniff

His claws graze the seam of your panties, slightly unraveling the stitching. "Please let me taste you," he pants. "Please don't deny me your sweet nectar."

"I've gone far too long without it," he mumbles as he begins to make out with your pussy through your underwear, while his claws start trailing over the rest of your body as you continue to hang in the air. Clive was never one to shy away from pleasuring you with his honeyed tongue, but this was a whole new level of desperation.

"Please," he pleads.

"Alright alright, just put me down. I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs." He grins and happily obliges, his tail wagging rapidly as he drops you slowly onto the sand by your ankle. You lean back on your elbows so as not to get any more sand in your hair, and spread your legs wide for him. He gets on his hands and knees, crawling over to you seductively before lifting the hem of your dress over your pelvis, exposing your soaking wet knickers to him once again. 

He smiles down at you, admiring the view of your disheveled state while dragging a claw on your inner thigh, making you shiver before he tucks the nail into the crotch of your panties, tearing them straight off your cunt with little resistance. The fabric is left in tatters beside you when you gasp, your slick folds now fully exposed to the chilly evening air.

He groans as he lifts your hips into the air, throwing your thighs over his broad shoulders as he makes eye contact with your bare cunt, all wet, spread, and exposed just for him. Your bum is in the air slightly as he settles himself on his elbows, his large hands wrapping around the plush of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh slightly. He gets on eye level with your pussy, the hairs on your mound drenched from his salvia. You look so appetizing to him that he can't fight off the desire to sink into your wetness.

"Do you want to know the real reason I stayed away all this time?" He asks, bringing his mouth closer to your cunt, nibbling on your inner thigh with his teeth, causing a slight blood trail to trickle down from the skin.

You whimper but nod your head in response.

"Your scent tempts me like no other." His rough tongue laps up the blood spilled from the nick he created, leaving you writhing for more pleasure.

"It'd take everything in me not to mount you right where you lay and take you as my mate." You groan at that, causing a chuckle to escape him while he continues to nip and lick at the skin surrounding your pussy, neglecting where you need him most.

"Clive, please," you whine, having had enough of his teasing and desperately wanting him to push you over the edge with that sweet tongue of his, so after deciding that you've had enough, he gives you what you so desperately crave: a long swipe of his tongue from your entrance, all the way to your needy, swollen clit.

You arch your back while he groans at the taste. Something about being in this form enhances his senses and the pleasure he receives from pleasing you.

He gathers a pool of salvia behind his teeth and spits it on your cunt before he pulls you even further into his mouth, swirling the wetness all along your poor neglected pussy. The change in texture brings you heightened pleasure as his tongue drags along your clit over and over, making you mewl and whine in his hold.

Your hips begin to buck against his face, and he's gentle when he pulls the sensitive nub between his sharpened teeth. Your fingers find themselves in his shaggy hair, curling into the roots, where you give a slight tug, pulling him even closer into your cunt. He groans into your pussy as more of your arousal leaks from your quivering hole.

He detaches himself from your clit, moving down to your entrance, where he laps at the escaping juices. It's like a drug to him, one that he simply can't get enough of, so it comes as no surprise when he wiggles his tongue into your tight hole to collect even more of your flavor on his palette. He pushes the warm muscle further and further in, slurping up every last drop you provide, not letting a single one go to waste. It's such a foreign sensation, but you can't deny the pleasure you derive from it when he begins thrusting it in and out of you, effectively fucking you with his tongue.

"Fuck, Clive," you moan as his efforts hasten, greedy for more of your flavor.

Your hips continue to rut against his face, clit knocking against his nose with every buck upward. You're whining, whimpering, and writhing all over the place while his strong, calloused hands keep your hips pressed against his face. He takes over for you and grinds your pussy all over his face while continuing to tongue-fuck you as you're reduced to nothing but whimpers due to the sensations, your cunt beginning to pulsate around his warm muscle as the whiskers on his face tickle your clit in ways you've never felt before.

His rhythm against you is brutal; your legs are beginning to shake and your toes starting to curl. A slew of pleas fall from your lips, begging him to bring you to your sweet release, and he's always been one to please. He growls out "cum for me" before suckling your clit back between his lips, hard.

You wail loudly as you see white behind your eyes, your thighs squeezing around his head tight while continuing to tug on his hair, slowly bucking your hips as you continue to ride out the rest of your high.

Clive keeps up his efforts on your clit, making your hips jolt as he overstimulates your poor pussy. With a simple tap on the side of his face and a muffled "enough," he lowers you back down again, being sure to cover your exposed sex with the skirt of your dress once more.

"That was..." you begin to rave, lifting your head up to meet his eyes only for your attention to be drawn elsewhere, particularly toward the protrusion from his lower half that's now sticking straight in the air.

Heavens above, was that his cock?

Your eyes are diverted once again as he begins licking his chops, swirling his tongue all around where your wetness graced his face. Poor thing, he always did get unbearably horny when eating you out.

You reach out toward him, wanting to provide some relief, when he backs away, shuffling in the sand.

"You don't...you don't need to do that..."

"In fact, it's probably best that you didn't."

"Are you sure? It looks like it hurts..."

His cock looked a lot different than usual. It was angrier, meatier, thicker, longer, his whole shaft red in color instead of the pretty pale yellow tone you're used to, and it was hard, so incredibly hard, with precum leaking down onto the sand below. You've never had anything like it before, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD.

"It's alright, I can take care of myself when I turn back, besides, if we do this, I won't be able to stop myself, and I- I don't want to hurt you." He attempts to cover himself up from your wandering eye, but that serves to only work against him as he whimpers every time he bumps into his erection, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

You crawl toward him slowly, your hands and knees sinking into the sand as you move forward. "I trust you, I know you won't hurt me." You settle between his legs, dense, dark, coarse hair covering the base of his cock. "Let me make you feel good too," you mumble, grabbing his shaft with your hand. It's hot to the touch, with way more veins, the base more rounded and bulbous than usual. You pump him up and down slowly as he mewls and growls against your touch. 

"This is your last chance," he huffs. "I won't be able to hold myself back." 

"I want you just like this, Clive," you lean in, pressing a wet kiss to his lips while you continually stroke him. "Don't hold yourself back," you whisper, smirking against him as the two of you kiss some more, both beginning to pant into the other's mouth as the excitement builds.

He emits a low growl and picks you up by your hips, planting you down on all fours in front of him. The hem of your dress is torn by his claws as he lifts it over your bum, your cheeks on full display. His hand comes down with a swift SWAT to your ass, leaving tiny abrasions on your skin from his nails. Your body propels forward from the impact as you squeal, your pussy starting to drool with arousal once again. 

He leans himself over you; his broad body is heavy on your back as it casts a large shadow in the moonlight. You can feel all the hair that covers his legs as he presses into you, the follicles tickling the back of your thighs as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"I'd much rather take you on your back, spread you nice and wide, have you laid out all pretty underneath me like you always seem to enjoy," he murmurs in your ear, trailing his hand from your thigh to knead at your breast through your clothes.

"But unfortunately, your choice of locale for throwing this little tantrum prohibits that sort of thing."

"We wouldn't want sand to get where it doesn't belong, hm?" He removes his hand from your breast and interlocks his fingers over top of yours, where they've sunk into the sand. Though his hand is so large, he might as well be clenching his fist around your own.

He sniffs your nape, then presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "I'll be as gentle as I can til you're ready for more, alright?"

"I'll make this as pleasurable for you as possible," he coos. When he notices your body shivering, though he's unsure if it's due to the cold or nerves, he runs his free hand up and down your side in a soothing manner, in an attempt to help calm you a bit. He plants a sweet kiss and a lick on your cheek, and it manages to pull a short giggle from you, which he smiles at.

"I'm ready."

With your fingers still interlocked together, he carefully begins to insert himself, and it takes all of his will to not buck his hips and go balls deep inside you. The hug of your warm, wet walls on his weepy, swollen cock is almost too much for him to bear.

You bite your lower lip and grunt as he pushes in, feeling like you're being torn open from the inside out. He can sense your discomfort; your heart rate skyrocketing due to the pain. He's quick to move his other hand from your side to your clit, rubbing smooth, soft circles on the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers.

His ears pull back at your discomfort, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck further, trying to soothe you through more licks and kisses to your neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whimpers, and your heart all but breaks at the sound.

The ministrations on your clit start to overtake the burn of your nethers and you encourage Clive to keep pushing in further. It's a prolonged effort, with him moving in short increments every so often til he was as deep as you could allow, stopping just short of the bulb inflating the base. He was already quite well-endowed, having little to no trouble bringing you to sweet bliss on his cock, but this was a whole new world. His cock felt like it now resided in your guts and that your guts were now in your longs. His girth, the likes of which you've never felt before. Your cunt strangles him with everything it has; every bump against your ridges fills him with pleasure.

Once he's as deep as he can go with minimal resistance, he brings you over the edge by playing with your clit. Sadly, there's not enough prep in the world that would make taking him an easier feat, but he's hoping that the now relaxed muscles in your cunt will make the whole experience more pleasurable.

He continues to coo and coddle you as you come down from your second orgasm of the night. The squirm of your smaller form against his fills him with amusement. There's something so primal about him mounting you like this, caressing your soft skin while making sure to comfort you through lots of kisses and nuzzles as he whispers words of affection in your ear. You're pretty sure your cheek is going to be rubbed raw by the end of this.

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs in your ear. "You're doing so good for me."

He stalls his hips while you gather yourself, collecting your thoughts as you try to bring yourself back into the moment. It's only when you give the go-ahead that he starts to move, taking care to make sure that this part is done with caution as well until you're accustomed to any sort of rhythm with his size.

Your fists dig deep into the shore as the veins of his angry cock drag along every single bump and groove inside you.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," you growl between your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut tight at his slow and methodical thrusts. You knew he was just making sure you didn't get hurt, but it felt like him going this slow and deliberate might actually kill you.

"Clive, you can move a little faster," you pant.

"Are you sure? I don't want to-"

"Yes, I'm sure just-" you clench down on him harder, hoping that will drive the point further. "Just please..."

"Alright then," he mumbles, settling his face on your shoulder, his big, bulky body still encompassing you. He moves his hand down to your hip, where his thumb draws soothing patterns into your skin while his hips start to rock back and forth. It's a slow rhythm at first, which admittedly you're thankful for, knowing that you'd probably regret telling him to go all out once you're forced to waddle to the infirmary and explain to Tarja why your nethers looked the way they did.

It takes everything in you not to groan out in pleasure, and after noticing this, of course, Clive goads, gaining a more steady rhythm, his pace quickening with every passing second.

"There's no one else here but you, me, and the stars, love."

"You can be as loud as you want." After heeding his proposal, you let out a loud moan into the open air, which echoes softly over the ocean.

"That's it," he praises, licking a stripe on your neck. It's not long before you feel the coil winding in your belly once more, signaling your impending orgasm. You attempt to reach down toward your clit when Clive smacks your hand away, replacing your fingers with his own as he rubs fast circles on the pearl.

He's grunting and huffing in tandem with your moans, the two of you fucking like wild animals as his hips snap in quick succession against yours. His cock glides against the soft, spongey spot deep inside you over and over with no end in sight. Your toes curl as your cunt squeezes down on him even harder than before, screwing your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the impact of your oncoming orgasm. The weight of his cock makes you see stars as you reach ecstasy once more.

"Fuck," he groans against you, digging his face deeper into your neck, inhaling the scent dripping off you from your sweat, your body lunging back and forth as he continues to fuck you. You presumed this would be the finale, but soon realize you're dead wrong as he grabs you by both hips again and sits back on his heels, effectively spearing you on his cock as your legs are spread wide over his thick, hairy thighs.

His claws come out to shred at the material of your bodice, ruining the fabric of your dress and making it so your tits bounce wildly with every powerful thrust he delivers underneath you.

Your body is akin to puddy at this point, your head resting against his shoulder as he bounces you up and down on his cock. His fingers come down to pinch at your nipples as you writhe against his body, the cool evening air making them hard as rocks while he plays with the rest of your body to his own enjoyment.

It's not long after that you find yourself on the brink again as you succumb to becoming his personal fleshlight, his thrusts unrelenting while he whispers more sweet nothings into your ear, his fat cock bullying your sopping hole. The crashing waves are the only sound capable of drowning out the squelch of your cunt from him fucking into you so well.

You cum again with a loud cry, your body falling against him as you fully lose yourself in pleasure, becoming weak and limp in his arms while he holds you upright.

"Think you can handle one more?" he smirks.

You nod and mumble incoherently while he stops thrusting, positioning himself on your bedroll to lay fully on his back.

Your legs are spread as wide as possible over his lower torso and hips, your sloppy cunt exposed for all the stars and heavens to see.

You tilt your head slightly when Metia and the full moon come back into view. You mouth a breathless "thank you" to them, as it seems your prayers for having Clive come to your aid were answered.

In your delirious state, he guides your hand down to your lower abdomen, right where his cock lies inside you. He then takes his other hand to the back of your head and eases your neck upward to look at the protrusion, his cock causing your abdomen to bulge out. You go a little cross-eyed at the sight, and he takes your hand under his and presses down on the bulge, which draws out a low whine from you both.

He snarls, "Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You nod haphazardly, not able to do much else. He chuckles at your disposition and begins to slowly thrust back from underneath you.

"By the end of this, I think you'll be molded to the shape of my cock, your cunt ruined for anyone else." He laughs while you whine and writhe; his slow, languid thrusts not enough to drive you over the edge.

"Awwww, sweet little thing just wants to cum again, huh?" He mutters in your ear, smirking as you mewl, your pussy clenching down on him while he laps up your sweat.

"Alright then, darling, I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before increasing his rhythm once more, his bulky arm coming down to scoop underneath your knees and pull your legs toward your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you.

You do something unexpected; in your bliss-induced delirium, you bring his hand that's pushing down on your belly up toward your throat and wrap his thick fingers around your neck slightly. He huffs down at you, his body still hard at work, pounding into your sopping cunt.

"You want to be choked now, do you? This is new. Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you." You nod as enthusiastically as your aching body will allow, closing your hands overtop his once again.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he chortles, slowly but surely pressing down on the sides of your neck, reducing the blood flow.

From behind, he starts foaming at the mouth, his thrusts getting more brutal both in pace and intensity. How he managed to last this long is beyond you.

He releases his hold on your legs and moves down to rub quick circles on your clit, his other hand squeezing down tighter as you get closer to release. Your hands come up to squeeze your own nipples, and the edges of your vision get hazy as you start to lose consciousness and feel extreme bliss.

"Cum for me," is whispered in your ears, and all of a sudden, your brain and lungs are flooded with oxygen as you experience the most intense orgasm of your life, letting out nothing short of a silent scream as your body spasms and arches wildly. The rush to both your head and cunt is greater than anything you've experienced before.

Clive keeps thrusting into you as he drives himself toward his own release, the bulb on his cock continuing to knock into you, ever so slightly entering you with every movement.

"Clive, w-what is that?" You rasp, your voice shaky from its extended use over the course of the night. He takes on a much more shy attitude after hearing your question, continuing to groan.

"It's m-my knot."

"Your what?"

"It's a wolf thing; it helps keep me inside after I... you know..."

"It helps with mating, but you don't have to take it if you don't want to."

You shake your head back and forth. "No, I want to. I want to take it."

"Fuck," he growls. "Are you sure?"

"YES," you wail.

"As you wish, darling."

It's a few short, sloppy thrusts later when Clive sinks his teeth into your shoulder, grunting and howling as he stuffs you full, pushing his knot fully inside you while he goes balls deep into your cunt, your pussy swelling and stretching to accommodate the excess girth.

"Heavens above," you cry, your back arching toward the sky as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, ropes upon ropes of his warm spend shooting deep inside you as he's milked for all he's worth.

You both slump against each other in the aftermath, his hands coming up to caress your body. "We're going to be stuck like this for a while."

It's sometime later that you're snuggled up on Clive's body as you lay both bare underneath the stars together. His huge body keeps you warm while you twirl your fingers into his chest hair, his mouth coming down to press multiple kisses to the crown of your head.

"So you won't fully transform back until sunrise?"

"Correct."

"And you've been like this for over fifteen years?"

"Mhm," he mumbles.

"Where do you go for those three days? Clearly, you're not at the hideaway."

"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"Who do you take me for? Of course, I won't laugh at you."

He sighs, trailing his fingers up and down your back. "I actually go back to Rosalith. I've got a little den set up there."

"How adorable," you tease, making a kissy face at him. "You'll have to take me to go see it sometime."

"I don't think so," he smirks.

"Wha- why not?" You huff, an adorable pout forming on your face.

"Let's just say that I really wouldn't be able to hold myself back in that instance, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." He presses a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Okay, okay, last question. Did you really mean all that filth you spewed about why you disappeared all those times?"

"It's partially true. All my senses are heightened, and you truly do become irresistible to me. Not that I'm any less attracted to you normally, but it's...different." He pulls you closer to his chest.

"Though I suppose I was mostly afraid that you'd look at me differently and that you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."

"Clive, I've watched you prime into Ifrit with my very own eyes; do you truly believe that I'd leave you because you transform into a hound?"

"Wolf," he corrects.

"Same difference," you chuckle, raising your head from his chest to peer into his eyes. A lovesick, dopey grin is plastered all over his face when he looks at you, despite his words of insecurity.

"I'm with you no matter what, Clive. No matter the challenges or struggles you may face. I'll always stand by you. I love you, and that will forever remain true," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and you swear you can see his pupils double in size as he repeats the phrase back to you.

You rest your head back on his chest once again, enjoying the feeling of contentment before speaking out, "We're going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the hideaway, won't we?"

"Oh, most definitely."

[pinkkittysaw]

pumpkin divider by @/silkholland

text gifs from pookatoo.com

𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖐 𝖔𝖓𝖊 (𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 1𝖘𝖙 - 𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 7𝖙𝖍)

🦷 IN THE CROOKS OF YOUR BODY, I FIND MY RELIGION

— feat: cidolfus telamon x priestess reader x clive rosfield

because even the devout deserve to be worshipped, right?

𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖐 𝖙𝖜𝖔 (𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 8𝖙𝖍 - 𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 14𝖙𝖍)

🦷 BUT I CAN’T STOP STARING IN THOSE EVIL EYES

— featuring: plaga re4 leon kennedy x plaga f!reader

unforeseen circumstances bring you and leon closer together in an unexpected way

𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 (𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 15𝖙𝖍 - 𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 21𝖘𝖙)

🦷 HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF

— featuring: werewolf clive rosfield x f!reader

your lover always disappears on the night of a full moon every month and you’re determined to figure out why

𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 (𝖔𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 31𝖘𝖙)

🦷 WHETHER YOU COME AS A LOVER OR AN EXECUTIONER, I AM READY TO RECEIVE YOU

— featuring: clive rosfield x vampire f!reader

if given the chance to fuck your mortal enemy, would you? or will you forever be resigned to a destiny fueled by hate?

hi hi everyone!!!

this is my first year doing a kinktober/halloween event of the sorts. these aren’t official prompts, just some things i whipped up on my own. i’m very very excited to be posting these in the upcoming weeks!

all fics will be posted sometime throughout the week listed. the days on which they get posted may not be consistent week to week so some may be posted earlier in the week, some may be posted later (with the exclusion of the final fic which will be posted on halloween)

fics will have their own warnings and summaries on the actual posts!!

[pinkkittysaw]

Trick or Treat 🤪🤙🏼

(My friend’s birthday is today so four of us are gonna go dress as the Wiggles and go see the FNAF movie LMAOOO)

send me a trick or treat ^_^

dearest jordy!!! happy halloween!!!

happy birthday to your friend as well!! that sounds super duper fun ^_^ i remember you making a post abt the wiggles a while back, which one was your favorite? also i’m hoping to see the fnaf movie soon myself! i hope you enjoy it!!!

as for my tricks and my treats, for some reason i wanted to give you something wild, mostly due to the silly conversations we’ve had.

sooooo i am giving you holt hyde as well as strawberry nerds (cause for some reason nerds is a wild candy to me) djdjdj

sorry for this shit layout SJSJSJSJJS