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#ikemen fanfiction
violettduchess · 3 months
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A/N: This year, as I deal with a far more limited amount of free time, I want to focus on writing things that really spark something for me. These headcanons, which I started almost 6 months ago, recently came roaring back into my imagination and I decided to go for it.
This is imagining how these suitors would react to their small child entering their bedroom in the middle of the night.
Leon, Sariel, Jin, Keith and Gilbert
WC: 2.2 k
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The child's white bedroom door, painted with a silvery moon and twinkling stars, opens slowly, a whisper in the still of the night. A small head pokes out, knuckling sleepily at eyes still heavy with the remnants of dreaming. A look left, then right.
The hall is empty.
Tiny bare feet tiptoe across plush carpeting.
One hand clutches a stuffed animal, the other reaches for the curved handle of your bedroom door and which, on a quiet exhale, opens.
Leon
He is awake the moment the door opens. A light sleeper, he never fails to hear when his daughter enters your bedroom, no matter how quietly she tries to. Even now, he pushes himself up, running a hand through his cacophony of dark hair, watching his offspring step as quietly as possible as she makes her way towards the bed. She’s so concentrated on not making noise that she doesn’t notice he’s already up and watching her until she arrives at the foot of the bed.
“Papa!” Her gasp is half surprise, half disappointment when she realizes he has, as always, heard her. Leon laughs softly, the sound still rough with sleep as he motions for her to come over to his side of the bed. 
“I was trying to be extra, extra quiet.” He offers her his hand and she takes it, climbing into the bed and then into the circle of his arms where he cuddles her close. “You were, peanut. You were very quiet but your father has very, very good ears. Especially at night.” 
Perhaps someday she’ll learn why. How good hearing and light sleeping could mean the difference between life and death in the slave pens. But not tonight. Tonight she snuggles into his embrace, clutching her brown bear with his black and red cape to her chest. 
“Shall I bring you back to your bed?” He brushes several dark locks of hair that have escaped her braid away from her plump cheek, his golden eyes warm with affection. His daughter stifles a yawn. “Can I stay here tonight, with you and Mama?” 
How can he say no? “Of course.” He shifts her, tucking her in close against his side where she curls up like a kitten, warm and content. Leon sighs, his heart fuller than he ever imagined it could be, before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.
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Sariel
He looks up from the paperwork on his lap when the bedroom door slowly opens. One glance at the clock on his nightstand and he knows exactly who dares enter his room, unannounced, in the middle of the night.
His son, hair dark as onyx, eyes as bright as violets, peeks around the door to see his father sitting up in bed, reading by the soft light of an oil lamp. 
“I see you, little one.” The child gives up stealth and hurries into his parents’ room, climbing up the foot of the bed and crawling his way across the velvety covers up to Sariel, careful not to jostle you while you are sleeping. He settles in next to his father, peering at the sheaf of papers still in his hands. “Why are you still up, Papa? It’s so late.”
Sariel glances down at his son, his lips curved in a soft shadow of a smile. “You know what? You are correct. It is very late.” He carefully removes his glasses, placing them in a safe spot on his nightstand and then sets the missives and letters and parchments beside them. He extends his arms and his son happily accepts the silent invitation, burrowing into his father’s embrace, clutching his soft, stuffed snake with the onyx eyes close to his little chest. “We’ll go to sleep together, ok Papa?”
Sariel reaches out, extinguishing the warm light and then shifts, dipping his head to press a kiss to his son’s midnight hair. “A sound plan, son.” He closes his eyes, contentment flowing through him like the soft waves of the ocean. “A very sound plan.”
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Jin
He freezes, lifting his head from your neck, his large hand going still on the sensitive skin of your hip. As involved as he may be with you, he has excellent hearing and the opening of the door is as loud in its whisper as a gust of howling wind. He feels the soft huff of air against his cheek as you reign in your galloping heart. Things were just getting good.... With a groan, a mixture of disappointment and the dying embers of desire, he sits up as you adjust your nightgown and tilts his head at the small outline in the doorway.
“Yes, Princess? What is it?”
“I heard a noise. In my wardrobe. I think there’s a monster in there.” Her voice is small, almost tentative as it floats through the darkened bedroom. Jin pushes back his covers, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. He reaches back, squeezing your hand, a gesture that says I’ve got this, before getting up and walking toward his daughter. "Alright little lady, let's go investigate." She slips her small hand in his, clutching her stuffed baby eagle close as they make their way back to her bedroom.
Stepping inside, she pulls her hand away from his and points to the white and lavender closet. “In there, Papa.” Her garnet-colored eyes are wide as Jin clears his throat, fixing a scowl on his face as he faces the wooden doors.
“Listen up. This is Prince Jin speaking and any and all monsters hiding in this wardrobe better leave RIGHT now or else you’ll have to answer to me!”
“Yeah!”, she adds helpfully, eyes narrowing as she glares at the wardrobe, a mirror image of her father.
Jin reaches forward and flings open one door, then the other. Inside are all her dresses and coats. Her shoes all lined up neatly along the bottom. A few stockings peek out of small drawers and her wooden training sword and shield with Jin's crest lean against the side, askew. Jin searches through the clothing, stands on his toes to check the top shelves. He makes a show of it, incredibly thorough and yet serious. Then he turns around to face his daughter. “Looks like any monsters are long gone. And they won’t be coming back.”
A smile like the dawn breaks over her face and she rushes towards him. He leans down and catches her in his arms, holding her tightly against his broad chest. “Thank you, Papa. No monster would ever be stupid enough to come back now!” 
Jin carries her back to her white four-poster bed, grinning as he lays her down amongst her fluffy pillows and pulls the soft covers up to her chest. “Nope, not when they know they have to deal with me.” He glances over his shoulder at the wardrobe. “But how about tomorrow, we go to the knights training grounds and you bring your sword and shield. We can work on your swordsmanship so any monster knows to be just as afraid of you too.”
She grins, nodding eagerly. “Good idea!”
Her enthusiasm has him returning her grin and he leans down, running a large hand over the soft chestnut of her hair. “Alright then. Get some sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow.” She snuggles down into the warmth of her blankets, stifling a yawn even as she rolls over. “I love you, Papa.” He swallows for a moment at the lump of emotion that suddenly swells his throat. “I love you too. Princess. So much.”
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Keith
Little feet whisper across dark green carpeting, continuing their journey to his side of the bed. “Papa,” she whispers, tugging on his covers, her stuffed deer dangling from her grip on its antlers. Keith inhales, his handsome face frowning in his sleep as her voice cuts through the fog of dreaming. But he doesn’t wake up yet. However, his daughter is nothing but insistent. She pats his upper arm, clearing her throat and speaking again, this time louder. “Papa. Wake up.”
His golden eyes open slowly and he blinks as he returns to the here and now. The sight of her, with her ashen blond hair and your intelligent eyes, has him sitting up in bed, the last misty tendrils of dreaming vanishing like fog in the sunlight.
“Yes, darling? What’s wrong? Is everything ok?” 
She glances to your empty side of the bed. “I miss Mama.” Those words send his heart spinning, leaving a trail of ache inside his chest as he nods slowly. “I do too. But you remember how she had to go back to Rhodolite. I promise, she’ll be home again soon. Just a few more days.” He reaches for her hand, his thumb running soothingly over her knuckles, marveling at the tininess of her fingers, the softness of her skin. She speaks again, her voice compressed by sadness. “I still miss her.”
He sighs as she hangs her small head, curls covering her face. Then he has an idea. Slowly he gets out of bed and leads her by the hand across the room to the heavy glass doors of the balcony off of the bedroom, his favorite place in the palace to stargaze. Keeping a secure hold of her hand, he slides open one heavy glass door and then walks with her to the large brass telescope. “Take a look in there,” he murmurs, kneeling as he adjusts the eyepiece for her. He wraps one arm around her middle, holding her close. “Can you see it?”
She leans forward slightly. “It’s blurry.” Carefully he adjusts the focuser until he hears her breath catch. “Oh it’s so pretty!” She stares through the telescope in wonder at the bright star, brilliant in its silvery-blue light. 
“That,” he says softly, almost dreamlike, “is your mother’s favorite star.” Gently he pulls her away from the telescope and points upwards. “You can see it without the telescope just there, see the three stars just in a row?” She nods emphatically. “It’s the one all the way to the right.” He pauses, resting his chin tenderly on her small shoulder. “When you miss Mama at night, like you do now, you can look up at the sky and find her favorite star. It may make you feel better.”
She turns around and wraps her arms around Keith’s neck, hugging him with all her might. “Thank you, Papa.” He hugs her close, this walking embodiment of his heart, and smiles.
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Gilbert
He is already sitting up when his daughter approaches the bed, her stuffed tiger tucked under her arm. He heard the opening of the door and knew who it was immediately. No one else would ever dare to enter his bedroom in the middle of the night without fearing for their life.
“It’s past midnight, Mäuschen. Why are you wandering through the shadows?” His voice is a gentle that only you and those very close to Gilbert have ever heard. A genuine softness like the blanket of dusk as it falls over the land, the protective moon whispering as it cradles a favorite star. His daughter sighs, pushing away a stray lock of dark hair. “I’m hungry.”
He laughs quietly, his chin tilting down as he regards her. He speaks quietly, not wanting to wake you. You need rest after all, so close to the birth of your second child. He gets up, slipping on his black silk robe and then holds out his hand. She takes hold of it, wrapping her cool little fingers tightly around him and then pauses. “Wait a moment, Papa.” Turning back to the bed, she carefully places her stuffed tiger next to you where you sleep. “Watch out for Mama,” she orders sternly and doesn’t notice the bright gleam in Gilbert’s eyes as he smiles at her protective gesture. She turns, grabbing his hand and nods. “Ok Papa, fertig.” Ready.
He leads her out of the bedroom and a short walk down the hall to his office. Once inside, he walks over to his massive wooden desk, made of the finest dark walnut, and leans forward, turning on the desk lamp. He settles into his chair, into the crimson velvet cushioned seat and motions for her to join him. The Obsidian princess climbs into his lap, eyes bright as she looks at him expectantly. “Shh…this is our secret,” he murmurs, tapping his finger on the end of her nose. She grins slowly and nods. “Versprochen, Papa.” I promise. One arm holds her close as he leans down and opens a bottom drawer. Inside is a small round tin which he takes out and sets on his desk, next to the missives and parchments waiting for him come morning light.
“Go ahead,” he says encouragingly and she leans forward, carefully working the lid off with chubby fingers and then he feels her straighten up in excitement when its contents are revealed. She reaches in and pulls out a hearty oatmeal and raisin biscuit. The cookie is nearly at her lips when she pauses, thoughtfully. Shifting in his lap, she turns to face him and then holds it up. “Do you want a bite, Papa?” Her generosity has him smiling, a warmth like no other brightening his heart as he pretends to consider. “You don’t mind sharing?” She shakes her head, several loose, dark curls framing a face that is the youthful echo of yours. He leans forward and bites off a tiny corner, then leans back with a satisfied sigh. “Mama makes the best biscuits.” 
She bites into the same cookie with much less restraint and then smiles, chewing happily. “Mm hm.” She leans back against his chest and he wraps his arms around her as she continues munching. “Just this one and then it's back to bed with you, little mouse.” She nods, mouth too full to answer and focus far too lost in the pleasure of her treat to respond verbally. Gilbert sighs, turning to rest his cheek against the top of her head. He is utterly and completely at peace.
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Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381
For Leon content: @leonscape
For Gilbert and Leon: @ozalysss
For Keith: @drewadoodle-dandy
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spoopy-fish-writes · 6 months
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| I love you, I love you, I love you
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Suitor(s): Ray
TW: Crying, mention of periods, mention of being sick
Genre: Comfort
Notes: AFAB MC || Didn’t know how badly I needed this until I was writing it writing for Ikerev is genuinely going to be what gets me out of my slump just watch || Does anyone even play Ikerev anymore. Am I speaking into a void
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“Can I kiss you? Please?" You were barely a centimetre away from Ray, your eyes looking into his with the warmth that you always did, loving, cherishing, adoring. And yet that clashed with an equally prominent biting cold that seemed to flinch back from your expression when he tried to look too close that he couldn't quite place as your eyebrows pinched together in a way that made you look so fragile in that one moment.
He wasn't sure how it had got to this point, your hand on his chest while you leaned towards him, your other resting on the sofa to help you keep balance.
But he couldn't say no to you. Not that he would want to and certainly not now when you seemed so desperate for his affection.
So a "Yes" fell from his lips, sure and barely above a whisper.
You wasted only a second, a pause as your eyes flitted from his eyes down to his lips and then back up to his eyes as if checking for further confirmation.
He didn't make an attempt to initiate this kiss this time. Not when you looked as though you were ready to shatter at the slightest touch, so he waited for you to lean in, your lips barely a light press against his - tentative.
He can feel the shaky breath that leaves you against his lips when you pull away and his eyes meet yours - almost an invitation, though it's not hard to take it as such when his pupils are blown wide and he looks at you so gently - as your hands slowly move up to cup his face, half tangled in his hair so that you could pull him towards you again.
It's slow and still soft as you kiss him once, twice, three times, handling him with so much care that he isn't sure whether you thought he would break or yourself if you decided to be any rougher with him.
Either way, your hands trembled as they moved slightly against his cheek, mindlessly tracing his features from his lashes which dipped low when he closed his eyes - a mercy really, as you feared that he would have seen the way that your chest rose and fell so shakily and brows furrowed had he had them open - to his brow and down to his cheek, so gently rubbing over light burns and scars which had almost completely faded.
"Love.." comes the mumble against your lips and you feel Ray softly pull away, his expression one of concern that makes you want to shy away from him as one of his hands reaches up to your face to brush under your eye, brushing away a stray tear you hadn't paid any mind to.
"Love, what's wrong?" The gentle sound of his voice makes you want to cry even more; you felt too vulnerable, too weak to be able to handle such gentleness.
You lent into his palm and closed your eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of his warm hand and focusing on it to calm you down before you spoke.
"Just..." What was wrong?
"I- I don't really know. I feel upset but I don't know why and it's been messing with me for a few days between being sick, being on my period, being...generally annoyed.
I don't know. It all just sucks. I just... wanted to be close to you right now. It helps.” Your voice cracks as ramble ends off on a heavy sigh which evened out your previously agitated breathing. You slumped into his chest, burying your face in his neck before deciding against it and bending to hide your face in his chest, prompting a fond huff of amusement from the king of spades which you ignored as you continued to speak. "You're warm, and it's nice. Like sunshine."
"I need to stay closer to people who feel like sunshine," you continued mumbling. "It's nicer around you. I don't feel so mellow or upset. Like I’ve gone outside after a long week being sick."
Ray hums as if in agreement, arms moving to wrap around your waist. He makes a contemplative noise and you look up slightly while green eyes meet yours.
His lips tilt up into a gentle crescent as his eyes soften and you have to look away again, even if he does chuckle at the way that you bury your face in his chest again. His lips press to the top of your head and you can feel the movement of them as he speaks.
“Then you should stay as close to me as possible. If not for yourself, I should stay closer to people who feel like sunshine too, even when there are a few clouds around them.”
You huff a weak but genuine laugh against his chest and shake your head slightly. “You're corny and embarrassing.”
"I recall you starting this."
"Irrelevant."
He laughs again and it’s so hard to hold onto your annoyance and upset when you hear it because it really is like a soothing balm to your wounds when he laughs so genuinely and you can feel the vibrations of his chest. He holds you that little bit tighter and you relax almost immediately, tears no longer having any use when you’re in his embrace.
“I love you. I feel like I don’t tell you enough.”
One of his hands moves to cradle your head and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Telling me everyday isn’t enough?”
Your voice is a little croaky and your sore throat makes an appearance as you speak. “I don’t think it’ll be enough until I’ve told you enough to make up for every day I didn’t know you. I would have loved you all of those days as well if I’d found you sooner, I think.”
“That’s a lot of days.”
“It is, but I think I can manage. I love being around you and you always make me feel better. I love that you’re so free all of the time and you always make me feel like I can be too. I just love you. I guess. All of you.”
Again, his arms tighten and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too. I hope I can always make you feel better. Make you feel like you can be better.”
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Do not repost or claim, only reblog 💜
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ikemenlibrary · 3 months
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Now announcing.... 'My Ikémen Valentine' Gift Exchange!
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A sweet and spicy holiday to celebrate with your true love
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The fifth installment in the Ikémen Gift Exchanges hosted by @ikemenlibrary. This one’s a bit different, as it’s not for a specific fandom, but instead, a romantic holiday! 
This is open to all of the current Ikémen games released in English servers!
Main Info:
Event: Gift Exchange
Fandom(s): Ikemen Vampire, Ikemen Sengoku, Ikemen Prince, Ikemen Revolution
Creation time: January 19 - February 16 Gift sharing: February 17-18
You can sign up for the exchange here
The deadline to submit your submission to join the exchange will be due on January 12.
You will have a month to create a Valentine’s gift for your recipient and an Ikémen character that they have given to you out of their list. 
If you're interested in joining, please make sure to get your answers completed and sent in before January 12. You can edit your sign up form after it’s been submitted, but please make sure to let me (the host)  know if you’ve done that, as I do not get notified when that happens and I want to make sure everyone’s happy with up to date information. Once the deadline passes, I will turn off the link to edit or submit so if you have any problems after then, please contact me directly.
Once I get everyone’s information organized and sorted, I will be reaching out to everyone individually on January 19 to let you know who you’ve been assigned to create for, as well as any extra information to share at that point in time.
When your application has been accepted for the gift exchange, I will reach out with a link to join the Discord server (if you aren’t already in it from previous exchanges).**
Please let me know if you have any questions! I can be reached via Tumblr DM or if you have my Discord from previous exchanges, you may find me there as well <3
Disclaimer: **Please note before signing up that I do have a Discord server that I encourage everyone to join. We’d love for all the participants (myself included!) to get to know one another, work together, and potentially help each other out within the event. We also have some fun bots to play with!
If using Discord is something you are absolutely not comfortable with, please message me before you send in an application so I am aware that you will not be joining and can mark it down on my end for organization purposes. (If I’ve spoken to you about this before, just specify in the sign up sheet, there’s no reason to need to reach out again!)
Below the cut, there is a new update to the rules I’ve previously had in place. This is also reflected in the sign up sheet. Please let me know if you have any questions!**
Can’t wait to see you all soon!
**I just wanted to give a quick update on the rules, as I have changed a few things slightly this time around.
The minimum word requirement for fanfiction updated from 800 to 850 words
The fan art requirement has been updated from being lined with a colored drawing, to also require a background as well (this can be a solid color, or scenery, or whatever you decide. The background just cannot be white (of course, special cases may occur and I will leave it up to the artists stylistic choice))
This time around, you cannot select specific characters from a list who you aren’t interested in creating for. That would be too messy with 4 fandoms. Instead, you will get more options of characters to create based on your choices you fill out on the sign up form
You must be ready to share progress during the halfway check in point via Google Drive/Docs if you are a fanfiction creator. If you do not have access to using one of these, please send me whatever you have during the check in, and I will copy it into my Google Drive. This is so if there becomes a time where you lose your progress on something other than Google, there will still be a copy existing, even if it doesn’t completely reflect your current progress. 
This will all be reiterated in the information key you will be given at the time assignments go out, so don’t worry about remembering this for the time being
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ikesimpleton · 6 months
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Gil, please…
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wintermoonwritings · 1 year
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NOT AGAIN!!!!!
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Hello guys!!!!! this is my first ever try on Ikemen Prince Au!!!! I hope you all enjoy it! and do comment where I can improve!!  
Intro: Clavis as a father! but with a twist! what if... Clavis’s son... TURNS OUT LIKE HIS UNCLE CHEVALIER!????
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Nobody ever thought Clavis would be the one to have a wife, I mean, a prankster who tests the women he is interested in? No chance. But wait! Not only did he manage to find the love of his life without making her cry, he also managed to marry her and have a child together! However, what if I told you that the child was a genius born once in a million years? Hmmm... sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Yes, that's right! The 2nd Prince of Rhodolite, the Brutal Beast, Prince Chevalier! But how is that possible? Clavis' child is like his worst enemy? Let me tell you a story about how the child’s intelligence was found.
    For the purpose of this fiction I will call Clavis’s child Joules. So Joules had always been a very quiet child. Clavis noticed all this, but he never thought much about it; yes, of course the child’s eyes were demanding and judgmental, and he rarely cried, and whenever MC played with the child, he would raise his eyebrows as in to say, "Really, woman?’ but Clavis thought it was just a phase in his life and pushed it away.    
One day MC got sick and was bedridden, so Clavis was left alone with Joules, but due to some emergency in the border between Rhodolite and Obsidian, he had to leave his precious child with his worst enemy. He did this to annoy Chevalier, though. So our scene starts in Chev’s library, where he is sitting and reading a book while Joules is sitting on a soft rug with cushions so he can rest peacefully while Clavis is away. Instead of sleeping, Joules looked at Chevalier with interest. Even though Joules was only 9 months old, he could still communicate in a few words, so he kept on repeating ‘what?’ while pointing at the book in Chev’s hand.
Chev ignored the very existence of the child in front of him and continued to read his book. The baby wasn’t having it! He saw a chair next to him; he held it hard and pushed himself up on his legs; usually a normal child would take 11 to 12 months to learn to walk, but here is Joules standing on his feet, angry at the disrespect the man has shown him. He then makes a run for Chev and is about to fall, but managed to hold on to Chev’s knees and stabilize himself. He looks up at Chev, his eyes glaring, and in a soft yet harsh whisper points at the book and asks, ‘What?' This whole situation shocked Chevalier, who looked down at the boy wide-eyed. Did a 9-month-old just take his first steps towards him and demand an explanation? Even Clavis took 12 months to walk, and took even longer to speak. This could mean only one thing: THE CHILD IS CHEV JUNIOR! Chev notices the resilience and confidence, which are emotions that Chev often adorns himself with. He finally answers the child, ‘This is a book. Are you done now?' The little one forces his way onto Chevalier’s lap and tries to read the book; when he fails, he demands that Chev recite the story.
It was a tough day for Clavis, and the fact that he left his precious child in the hands of the brutal beast—what a horrible decision! He runs to the library, and what he sees shocks him! Chevalier!? The BEAST RECITING STORIES TO JOULES!?? And Joules is enjoying himself with a small smile on his face!? OH GOD! Clavis is going to faint! This can’t be NOT AGAIN!!!!!!
Chevalier gives a small smirk to Clavis, saying, "Unlike you, my foolish brother, this child is like me," and then Joules repeats, "Foolish? Dad foolish?" Chevalier nods at the child, and Joules turns towards his father, "My foolish father".  
That’s it; Clavis faints for good.
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bluesparklingmoon · 1 year
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194 posts later, I bring you 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟑
(an extension of Masterlist and Masterlist 2) Check them out as well!
I animated this using an app two years ago.
MC x Comte
Comte/Arthur/Mozart comfort MC who reveals she was homeless before coming to the mansion.
MC Proposes To Mozart And Comte
MC x Mozart
Comte/Arthur/Mozart comfort MC who reveals she was homeless before coming to the mansion.
MC Proposes To Mozart And Comte
MC x Arthur
Comte/Arthur/Mozart comfort MC who reveals she was homeless before coming to the mansion.
MC x Theo
MC Accidentally Walks In On A Naked Theo
MC x Napoleon
Napoleon Saves You From A RockSlide
MC x Sebastian
Sebastian Faints
MC x Jean
MC Can See Jean Without His Eyepatch
Other:
Happy Ikemen Vampire Easter
Incorrect quotes: Comte’s April Fools Joke That Nearly Gives Everyone A Heartattack
Incorrect quotes: Mozart’s Crush
Incorrect quotes: Sebas Teaches Vincent To Cook
Ikemen Vampires Trying To Survive In The Purge
Ikemen Vampires Trying To Survive In A Retail Job
Ikemen Vampires In A Band
Ikemen Vampires In A Horror Film
Amnesia and Shapeshifting MC
Ikemen Vampires Attending Someone’s Wedding Party
Vincent Allergic To A New Paint
Ikemen Vampires Castaway
Shakespeare, as a Cashier
An MC That Does Not Want To Face Her Problems In The Future Till She Gets Encouragement
Ikemen Vampires With A Sick Comte, Arthur, Issac, Sebastian, and Napoleon.
Life In The Vampire Mansion Today:
Vincent’s waffle truffle shirt is making me low-key hungry or roasting the residents part 1
MC’s First Monthly Incident At The Mansion
Vincent failing in the kitchen…again incorrect quote
Dazai’s Lost Piranha
If Comte were to charge rent
Ikemen Vampires Ranked On How Many Children They Had In Real Life
Issac Meets Einstein
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randonauticrap · 2 years
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꧁༺ 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓫𝓵𝔂 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 ༻꧂
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Pairing ~ Chevalier & Emma (MC)
Warnings ~ Smut (Minors DNI), fingering, overstimulation
Word Count ~ 3k
Requested By ~ The lovely @queengiuliettafirstlady requested this fic some time ago! I finally got it finished for you, and I hope you like it!!!
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She knew she shouldn’t have followed Clavis; it was her predetermined downfall to twist her ankle on a stray vine in the rose garden as she tried to catch the purple-haired thief. He had slipped away with the book Chevalier had given her for her birthday and she could not stand idly by while Clavis paraded around with it. It was one of her most treasured possessions. Later, she supposed that was why Clavis had taken it to begin with; he knew it would provoke a delicious ruse from her. But she could care less now, as she laid in her and Chevalier’s shared bed, her ankle propped up on several pillows with a cold cloth over it to reduce the swelling. She sighed softly, picking the fateful book back up and continuing where she left off. It was her comfort book, and she had probably read it 12 times by now. The fact that it was given to her by her lover made it exceptionally special to her, and she felt Chevalier’s engulfing presence on every page. 
She was nearing one of her favorite chapters when the door abruptly swung open, a familiar white cape fluttering in before the man crossed the threshold. “King Chevalier!��� Emma cried joyfully, thankful to see him after the day she had had. But Chevalier did not return her affection; not even a scoff, followed by a barely disguised laugh, was thrown in her direction as was usual of him. Her smile faded and she stared at him, wondering what was wrong. “Did you have a bad day?” 
“It was certainly not pleasant hearing about my foolish simpleton chasing after that useless clown.” he spat. “What an idiot. You got yourself hurt.”
His words sounded even harsher than normal and you winced ever so slightly. “I just wanted my book back. It’s the one you gave me.” 
“Ridiculous.” he responded, turning his head away from you. “That’s no excuse.” 
“Hey, this book is important to me.” Emma rebutted. “If it had been any other book, I would have let him have it.” 
“How can you place such value on such meager scraps of paper?” Chevalier turned back to her, his eyes piercing holes into her. 
“Because you gave it to me for my birthday.” she responded, meeker than she had intended to be.
“That book is meaningless.” he said cruelly. “I gave it to you as a pastime, it has no value.” 
His words stung harshly and she furrowed her brows, turning away from him. “Fine.” she grunted. “Where is Rio?” she asked and Chevalier’s frown deepened. 
“Why do you need the dog?”
“He is my friend, not a dog. And he told me he’d return with another cool cloth soon.”
“I will get you what you need.” Chevalier started to turn towards the door.
“No.” Emma said sharply, and he turned to look at her. “Go find Rio.” she paused for a beat, and then added, “Please, Your Highness.” she emphasized his title and he scoffed dismissively before leaving the room. Once the door closed, Emma was able to relax and she felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t sure why his words hurt her so, but to hear him say that the gift she cherished so dearly meant absolutely nothing to him upon giving it to her made her feel heavy and disappointed. A tear dripped pitifully onto the page she had been reading, blurring the ink slightly, and she decided she didn’t want to be in Chevalier’s room right then. So she maneuvered herself up and gently lowered her injured foot to the ground, pausing when she heard a knock on the door.
“It’s me, Emma.” Rio’s voice came through the wooden door and she sighed in relief. 
“Come in, Rio.” 
“Emma, why are you sitting up?! You need to be resting!” he fussed over her gently as he approached her, and his concern was so tender that she felt the tightness regathering in her throat. Rio noticed her pained expression and kneeled in front of her, taking his hands into his own. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, and her resolve broke. She cried to Rio as she explained the situation and how ridiculous she felt for getting so emotional over it, but Rio hushed her. “You have every right to feel that way, Emma. I would be so upset if you ever told me that something you got me meant nothing to you. It’s King Chevalier that’s in the wrong.”
“I’d- I’d like to sleep in my old room tonight. I just need some time to get myself together.” she mumbled, and Rio nodded, immediately moving to help her up.
“Here,” he said. “Lean on me, don’t put weight on that foot. Just rely on me.” Rio half-carried her back to the room she had stayed in when she was acting as Belle. The distant familiarity was both comforting and painful. It was a reminder, not only of her and Chevalier from before they became lovers, but of the reason she was staying here tonight; and she wasn’t sure which hurt more. Rio helped her into the bed and situated some pillows beneath her foot, then made sure she had enough blankets to keep her warm. 
“Thank you, Rio.” she said softly, giving him a smile.
“Anytime, Emma.” he smiled back at you warmly. “Do you want me to stay?”
“It’s okay, I’m kinda tired. I think I’m going to sleep. Thank you though.” 
“Okay,” he said hesitantly. "Ring your bell if you need anything." He set a bell down on the side table next to her and she nodded.
“I will.” 
Rio slipped out the door and closed it behind him, and Emma was left alone once more. But this time, it felt colder; lonelier, and she almost immediately regretted sending Rio away. However, she knew she would feel guilty if she called him back now, so she hunkered down in the soft blankets and tried to go to sleep. But sleep would not come. No matter which way she twisted, she was always uncomfortable, and no matter how many blankets she snuggled into, she was always cold. Another tear slid down her face; she missed Chevalier’s warmth beside her, pulling her closer in his sleep as he always did, bruising her lips with kisses when they would both awake in the middle of the night, and complaining when the sun arose as he tried to keep her in bed with him for just a little longer. 
She had just begun to wonder if she had been too hard on him when she heard the latch to her door click. She froze in place, straining to hear any more signs of movement. She did not have to wait long before the door began to creak open. She was considering her options carefully in her mind; she was injured, so she wouldn’t be able to run very quickly. If she got the chance to scream, she would probably only get it once. There were a few heavy objects around that she could use as a defense, but she only knew of one that she could reach without getting out of bed, and that was the old candelabra that Chevalier had given her when she was Belle. She liked using its light to read at night, and she was suddenly very thankful that she kept forgetting to move it into Chevalier’s room. ‘I wish Chevalier was here,’ she thought desperately as the light from the sconces in the hall flooded into the room and a tall figure was cast in a grim shadow before her. 
As the figure took a step into her room, she began readying herself to respond. Her entire body was on edge, tingling from head to toe; the adrenaline lit her skin on fire and she prepared to leap out of bed. But before she knew what was happening, the figure had crossed the room and was at her bedside in mere seconds. She gasped audibly and raised her arm to fight her attacker, but he grabbed it and rendered it motionless. “I knew you were angry,” a familiar voice mused. “but I never realized you would try to hit me.” 
“Chevalier?!” she cried. The figure stepped into a trail of moonlight that gleamed into Emma’s room, revealing the 2nd Prince’s disheveled blond hair and icy blue eyes. “Thank God!” she wailed, tugging him closer to her by his undershirt.
“You thought I was an assailant?” he asked, a twinge of amusement in his voice. 
“Yes!” Emma responded, burying her face in Chevalier’s chest, her heart ramming against her ribcage with concerning force.
Chevalier chuckled above her and wrapped his arms around her shaking form. “About earlier,” he began. “I apologize. I did not mean to upset you.” 
She sighed into him, simply thankful to be back in his safe embrace. “I know. It just hurt, hearing that the gift you gave me didn’t mean anything to you. It means so much to me, just because it came from you. I read it when you’re not around or can’t be with me and it makes me feel like you’re close to me.” she explained softly, and a hand came up to stroke her hair. 
“The book itself has no value to me.” Chevalier explained. “But the person I gave it to has the most value of anything and anyone I have ever known. That person was hurt because of a book that, by itself, means nothing. The book only means something to me when it is with you.” 
Emma looked up at her lover with tears in her eyes and smiled. “I’m so sorry, King Chevalier. I misjudged you yet again.” 
“Then make it up to me.” he responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 
“How should I do that?” she asked, running her hand gently up and down the muscular arm that encompassed her. 
“Let me spend the evening here with you, and give yourself to me completely tomorrow. Let me do whatever I wish with you all day long. That is my price.” his grip on her body tightened and she moaned faintly as he tucked his face into the nape of her neck and began to suckle on her soft skin.
“Chevalier,” she murmured breathlessly. “I’m already all yours. All the time, every day and every night.” she pulled away for only a moment, meeting his clear blue eyes with her own. “Do what you want with me. Do it now.” 
A low growl emanated from the beast’s throat as his lips fervently pressed to hers, demanding she relinquish all control to him. She obeyed devotedly and allowed herself to be devoured by the man who now towered over her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her fingers found his soft locks almost immediately, instinctively wrapping around a few of the tufts and pulling him closer as he sought entrance into her mouth with his tongue. She granted it and he explored her cavern freely as his hands found their way under her negligee and pushed it up until her milky white breasts were exposed to him under the moonlight. He groaned into their kiss while he massaged her nipples into hardened peaks, the rough pad of his thumb crossing over the sensitive bud over and over again until Emma whined and leaned further into his touch.   
He loved her sounds, although he would never admit it aloud; the way she whimpered and writhed under his impassioned ministrations cracked the very foundations of his frozen heart. She let out a wanton moan and Chevalier took that chance to kiss her, hard. She sighed into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. He surrendered to her desire and climbed on top of her, letting his hands roam her body, laid bare for him. She made quick work of the buttons on his shirt and pushed the pesky fabric out of the way, hungry for more of him against her. 
After he assisted her in ridding him of the rest of his clothes, he sat back on his haunches to admire the sight before him. His lover, naked and beautiful in the moonlight that streamed in from the windows, was flushed and ready to take him inside her. He pressed two of his long digits against the last undergarment that separated him from her and she gasped. "Chevalier," she murmured breathlessly, staring into his cerulean saucers with anticipation and desperation. Never taking his eyes away from hers, he began to rub her sensitive nub through her panties, groaning as her pleasure wet his fingers through them. She writhed under him, panting softly as he moved her undergarment to the side and sped up his motions, stroking her pussy diligently with the rough pads of his fingers. He moved to take one of her nipples between his teeth and she whined, arching up to meet his touch, craving the relief that only he could provide her. 
“Please-nngh!” her chest heaved up and down as Chevalier continued to suckle on her hardened nipple and took her neglected breast into his hand, pinching her other soft peak between his fingertips.
“Looks like I have not given these enough attention.” he mused, noting the way her nipple had softened in the absence of his care. “I will not make the same mistake twice.” he promised, flicking it with his finger as Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head and her jaw slackened. 
“Chevali-ah!” she moaned in response to Chevalier’s fingers finally dipping into her sopping core, sampling her honey on his digits before pulling them out and burying them between his lips, sucking every ounce of her off of them as she watched him in awe. Before she had the chance to recover, his lips had dominated hers once again, bruising them with a love so achingly deep that it filled her to the brim. She smiled into their kiss, thankful all over again that her heart had chosen the white tiger as her forever. Though sometimes his words are still too harsh, and too easily misunderstood, she loved him with everything she had, and she wouldn’t give him up for anything.
It was as though her thoughts, through the connection of their lips, had been sent to Chevalier, and he caressed the curve of her hips roughly, adjusting her beneath him. She knew what was coming next and she spread her legs, inviting the Brutal Beast inside. She moaned into Chevalier’s mouth as his length spread her folds and sunk into her. He let out a rasping groan of his own as her warmth swallowed him whole. He stilled once he was fully sheathed inside of her and she squirmed, silently begging for any kind of movement; anything that would help her release the burning heat that tightened her core beyond measure. But Chevalier tortured her with stillness, pinning her hips to the bed to prevent her from chasing relief. “This is for doubting my love for you.” he whispered sharply in her ear.
“Nnngh” she moaned in response and let her head fall back against the pillow. “Please, Chevalier. Please.” she begged, her cunt soaking the sheets underneath them. Her neediness was paramount, Chevalier thought, as a stray tear escaped her eye; bourne from the sheer overstimulation of his carnal abuse. Finally; finally, he started to move inside of her and she crooned in satisfaction, each ridge and vein of her lover’s cock prompting her pussy to clench and tighten around him. He rolled his hips into her faster and faster until she was crying his name out into the night and gripping his strong shoulders to keep her grounded. Sex with Chevalier always felt like flying, and she clung to him to keep herself above the clouds with him as he continued rutting into her. 
She released Chevalier and instead reached up to the headboard to hold on, panting out breathy moans as his hips collided with the backs of her thighs. Only then did she realize that her lover had pulled her legs over his shoulders to gain better access to her. She couldn’t care less about the dull ache in her ankle; his length pounding into her relentlessly erased any concern for pain from her mind entirely. “Mmm, Chevalier!” she croaked as his pace grew frenzied. “I’m gonna-” but his sudden growl interrupted her and her walls spasmed, throwing her over the edge, as his cock twitched and jerked inside of her, spilling every ounce of his seed. Her hole welcomed his essence and pulled it further into her as his body shuddered above her and finally relaxed. His lips found hers in the midst of her high and swallowed her incessant moans until she began to calm, parting with him to murmur his name - sweet, soft, like a prayer. 
“I love you, Chevalier.” she breathed, allowing him to ease down beside her and pull her close to his chest. 
“And I you, my simpleton.” he replied, roughly brushing the hairs that clung to her forehead back into their rightful places. “Do not let a ridiculous thief convince you otherwise.” he kissed her forehead where his thumb had just been and she smiled into his touch, snuggling closer to him before letting her body relax and take her into her dreams; dreams with a white tiger and a certain special book.         
~
Tags for the lovelies: @atelier-maroron @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @ikehoe
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le-chat-sofi · 2 years
Conversation
What if Clavis was a daddy :)
*Ring ring*
Clavis: Who is it?
Man on the phone: We have your child!!
Clavis: What are your demands?
Man on the phone: Are you are of your mind? The daycare’s closing soon, come get her now!!
57 notes · View notes
aquagirl1978 · 2 years
Text
Cherry Blossoms - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
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A/N: This is part of @atelier-maroron's event Spring Bouquet Content Creator Challenge
Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader
Prompt: "Do you want me to pick you up so you can see the cherry blossoms better?"
Warnings: Fluff
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Spring was perhaps your favorite time of the year – seeing all the flowers in bloom after the cold, dormant winter always made you happy. The cold, dark days soon a distant memory, you decided to head to town today; the cherry blossom trees were in bloom, and of all the flowers, that one was your favorite. Fragile and delicate, their blooms were only visible but for a miniscule amount of time.
After visiting the bookstore and your favorite café for a snack, you took a stroll down the winding streets. Hugging the book you just purchased to your chest, allowing your thoughts to wander as you soaked in the warm rays of sunlight, your excitement increasing as you approached the marketplace.
The center was buzzing with crowds – nice weather always attracts people, but many were out today to see the blossoming trees. Stopping in a few stalls, you found yourself wandering aimlessly about, often standing on tip toe to see the trees over the crowds milling about.
“What brings a little rabbit out today?”
You spun around surprised at the sound of the familiar voice.
“Gilbert...”
He chuckled. “I thought we were friends. Call me Gil.”
“Okay, Gil...” you sighed loudly, your eyes flicking upward, glaring into his single crimson eye. “You know, I do have a name.”
He took a step closer; your heart fluttered. Stop heart, why are you doing that? His smile softened as he spoke. “Ok, Emma.” Another step closer, his gaze fixated on you, piercing your heart that just won’t stop fluttering.
Your mouth fell slightly ajar; this was not the reply you were expecting. You were unsure why you were so surprised; Gilbert was always very polite, but also very disarming.
“If you must know...” You swallowed nervously, bracing to be teased for your answer. “I came to see the cherry blossoms.”
The prince nodded and looked you over appraisingly. You felt your face grow flush, his eyes traveling down your body. “Must be hard for a little bunny to see over the crowds. Shall I put you on my shoulders for a better view?”
You had half a mind to smack him with the book in your hands but thought better of it.
Before you could protest, he held his hands up. “I’m just kidding.” Are you, Gilbert?
“Come with me.” He held his gloved hand out to you. Stop staring at his gloves, stop staring. Pushing away any hesitation, you took his hand. He’s your friend, right?
With a smile, he led you away, easily navigating the crowds as if he was trampling them making his own pathway. A firm grip on your hand, he walked at a fast pace for a man using a cane.
“What are you doing? The trees are in the other direction!” Your hand still in his, you allowed him to pull you despite not answering your questions.
When you reached the edge of the marketplace, he slowed to a stop. Hands still linked, you looked around in confusion. “The trees are all the way over there.”
Letting go of your hand, he stood behind you; placing his hands gently on your waist, reminiscent of how he held you when you sat on his lap, he turned you towards the market center. Dipping his head to your ear, the fringe of his bangs tickling your skin, he whispered to you.
“If you take a step back, you can see the full picture.”
Held in place, you stared straight ahead. He was right; of course, he was right. Stretching out in front of you was the entire marketplace, dotted with fluffy pink trees. No competing with crowds for a view, you had the best spot in the theater, with all the trees visible in your view.
Glancing down at his fingers spread on your midsection, you sucked in a breath as you found yourself wanting to twine your fingers in his. You missed holding his hand.
“It’s beautiful.” Breathlessly enthralled by the scene before you, you tilted your head slightly, surprised to find his gaze upon you. This close, his skin looked so soft and smooth; how you wanted to reach out and touch him. His smile was gentle, tender; his lips looked soft too – you wanted to do more than touch him.
“You’re not even looking at the trees,” you said curiously.
“I found a flower far more enchanting.”
Heart fluttering, breath heavy, your gaze flicked down when you found his fingers intertwined with yours. Your gaze returning to his single, crimson-colored eye, you searched for something, anything.
He gently stroked your hand in his; little did he know, he was also stroking your heart. Warmth flooded your body as he continued to gaze at you gently like you were something precious.
Throwing caution to the crisp, spring breeze surrounding you, you reached out tentatively, your thumb brushing his cheek. The chill on his skin surprising, your fingers lingered – you were right, his skin was soft, so very soft. He closed his eyes and for a flash, he looked like a cat getting petted. Does anyone show him any affection?
Maybe he’s not the villain everyone paints him to be?
Your clasped hands on your waist, he pulled you closer; your eyelids felt heavy, fluttering, asking yourself, Is this a dream? When his soft lips brushed against yours, the slight chill woke you of your reverie.
Melting into his kiss, you knew there was no escaping him – not that you wanted to right now. What if he, the villain, liked you? Worse, what if you liked him?
None of that mattered right now, as you ran your hands in his silky hair, pulling him closer. Hearts raced as you deepened the kiss, your embrace witnessed by the cherry blossoms as the blue skies above faded, streaks of pinks and purples taking over.
Tagging: @atelier-maroron @gilbertvonobsidian @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesrose @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @devildomwritersposts @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @ikehoe @altairring @lordsisterxotome @lucyw260 @violettduchess
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aminiatureworld · 2 years
Text
Kitsune Dance
Characters: Mitsuhide, Misa (OC, fm!pronouns)
Premise: In which Misa attempts to hide her festival plans from Mitsuhide.
Word Count: 5,141
Warnings: Swearing
Author’s Note: I wake from my slumber to present my gift to the lovely @akitsuneswife I hope you enjoy what I have written! I had a great time writing it, it was interesting to write from two already developed characters this time around. I hope I did a good job!
I’m banking on this having a good amount of historical inaccuracies - besides the entire set up of course - but I am still pretty proud of this! I hope you’ll all enjoy! I had a lot of fun participating in another gift exchange, and I would like to thank @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for putting in so much work to get this all up in the air. Once again thank you!
Here’s to hoping there are no typos. I’m also running out of title ideas.
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Mitsuhide
The sunlight that streamed right through the paper sliding doors was no longer alien to Misa, though her mind still cried out at being woken up so early from such wonderful dreams. Groaning slightly to herself she shifted, letting her eyelids flicker open as her brain convinced itself to wake up.
Through lidded gaze she saw her lover’s still-sleeping form. A thought wove itself through Misa’s mind; how strange it was that in the evening Mitsuhide seemed a being of pure silver moonlight, yet now he practically radiated the soft sun of the morning. Sunlight and moonlight, silver and gold, how apt these contradicting things seemed to encapsulate Mitsuhide. Ruthless and capricious, soft and secure, Mitsuhide was all these things and more.
Studying his face Misa tried to think of what she’d describe Mitsuhide as right now. Peaceful perhaps? Or maybe naïve? Innocent also came to mind. It was no use. Even in sleep Mitsuhide defied easy definition. Then again, that was one of the things that Misa loved so very dearly about the man sleeping next to her. She could have never truly loved someone without dimension. It was not in her nature.
As if listening to her thoughts Mitsuhide began to stir. Once Misa might have pretended to be asleep, but the charade seemed rather silly now, so instead she smiled softly as her lover’s eyes flickered open, watching as he mirrored her, his smile catlike and content.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Is that a saying that they use in the future?” Mitsuhide asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“It is.”
“How interesting. Not as inventive as the other ones you’ve taught me. I particularly liked you’re driving me up the wall, though I hope I don’t hear that one directed at me often.”
His laugh was soft in the morning, and Misa savored the sound of it. Not that she didn’t always savor Mitsuhide’s laugh, his smile, his words…
Shaking herself out of her reverie she furrowed her brow slightly as Mitsuhide lifted himself off of the futon. She enjoyed watching the lithe way that he walked, as if he was a dancer rather than a warlord.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out, of course. Have you forgotten the task that Lord Nobunaga so graciously offered me? A way to ingratiate myself into the favor of the people of Azuchi again,” he chuckled. “A bit optimistic for Nobunaga, but I appreciate the thought.”
“Do you really have to go so early? What are they even going to be doing at this time?”
“Are you jealous?” Mitsuhide’s mouth twisted upwards. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to, what’s the term, hang out later.”
Misa rolled her eyes, saying nothing. She knew that Mitsuhide’s loyalties, though inextricably tied with her now, still involved Nobunaga. What a people pleaser, she thought to herself.
“…doing?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked, what are doing today?”
“Oh,” Misa paused.
“Is that hesitation I see?”
“No. It’s just, well, I’m not actually what I’m going to do today.”
“It’s not often I see you unsure.”
“Well, don’t expect it to become a habit,” Misa replied. “I’ll figure something out soon, I just, haven’t woken up yet.”
“Whatever you say,” Mitsuhide smirked.
Walking back over towards Misa, Mitsuhide placed the lightest of kisses on her forehead, cheeks, lips, before stepping back. Making sure his kimono was tightened he walked over to the door.
“I know you’ll figure it out. You always do,” he murmured. Then he was gone, door clacking softly behind him.
Sighing Misa let her head fall back on the pillow. She really should figure out what she was going to do today. But the morning was still young, the light still dim, and the pillow still warm. Closing her eyes Misa promised herself a productive day before promptly turning over and falling asleep.
 -------
Wandering around Azuchi Misa drank in the excitement that suffused the town. The festival was obviously a huge occasion, and it seemed that everyone was either setting up something, watching something get set up, or getting in the way of something getting set up. The atmosphere was buoyant and the feeling of awkwardness that Misa got from wandering alone slowly faded away.
She was just about to pass a group of haphazardly placed tents when a voice called out to her.
“Miss? Is that you? Oh yes! It is you!”
Turning around Misa found herself staring at the man she perhaps least expected to see.
The director who commanded the troupe that Misa and Mitsuhide had once infiltrated looked rather worse for wear. His face was red, a thick sheen of sweat throwing his agitation into sharper focus than it might otherwise be. The dress he was wearing suggested he had been in the middle of rehearsal – Misa never forgot the lightweight white kimono that the man insisted on wearing, even when it was obviously sweat stained – but the look on his face was far from the controlled one she often remembered him sporting.
No, something was obviously wrong, though why he should be running after her when that was true was completely beyond her.
“Oh my dear director, how funny to run into you. It is truly an amazing coincidence. I hope things are well.”
“No time for such stupid formalities miss! I need you right now. There’s something only you can do.”
“What is it?” Misa asked, concerned.
“Perform! You must perform! Please, you are the only one who can help us!”
Misa might have been less surprised had the clouds opened up and struck her with lightning.
“You can’t be serious!” She sputtered. “I’m not ready for a performance! Besides, there must be a member of the troupe who can perform. I haven’t performed in over a year sir, I haven’t. I, no. I can’t.”
“You must! Or we are surely doomed!” The director wailed. “Our dancer, she has injured herself. Without her however we cannot go on. We cannot have the story of the kitsune’s wife without the wife! You performed it beautifully the last time, and as I always say an actress never forgets. Please. Please you must! If not we cannot perform and then, oh what will Lord Mitsuhide think!”
“I know he will understand. He is a forgiving man.”
“Even if I believed you I could not stop the performance, our reputation would be ruined! We would be ashamed! Imagine, not being prepared for such a thing! No, you must, you must help me.”
“I wish I could help you, I really do, bu–”
“You do! Then come, quickly, there is work to be done. Oh, I hope you haven’t forgotten too much!”
Grabbing onto her hand the director yanked Misa into the crowd of tents. There was little more she could then follow and wonder how fate has such a ridiculous sense of humor.
  -------
“Are you sure about this?” Misa asked once more.
“Of course I am! You’ll be lovely! We can still remember how well you and your husband danced that one time, ah, it brings tears to my eyes! Now hurry and get up on stage! You don’t have much time to learn this after all!”
Misa climbed up onto the stage, feeling every bit the intruder. She knew what it was like to have a career in performance after all. Once bonds were formed they were very difficult to penetrate; most guilds and troupes saw themselves as part of a family, and newcomers usually had to adapt to already decided roles.
Nevertheless she took her place at the back of the stage, taking in a deep breath. She could do this. Hadn’t she done something like it before anyways? Something much more dangerous? She had earned her right to stand on the stage – even if by coercion – and she would not forget it. Turning to glance at the others on stage Misa took in another breath. She could do this, she could do this, she could…
 “No no! Step with your right foot! Have you forgotten such a simple step already? Agh, the things that marriage does to a performer.” The director shook his head mournfully. “Never mind, take a break. We’ll start again in, say, half an hour. Make sure to go drink something. Then when we come back we’ll run what you’ve learned so far.”
Misa slunk gratefully off of the stage, her legs shaking all the way down. The director was not kidding this time around, and Misa could feel it from her biceps down to her calves. Still she was proud of the fact that she hadn’t fallen down… yet.
Letting the conversation wash over her Misa gratefully accepted a cup tea from a nearby street vendor, pressing a few coins into his hands.
“…you’ll be so proud of what we’ve done with it. It really is going to be a wonderful show.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
Misa froze. The musical voice of her lover drifted through her ears, so distinct she would recognize it anywhere. Here, Mitsuhide was here.
“Shit,” she muttered, hurrying into the corner of the tent that was reserved for that who needed a costume change.
Sitting there she listened as Mitsuhide walked through the complex the performers had set up, listening as he questioned the eager director.
“We’re performing the story of the kitsune’s wife, I’m sure you must know it.”
“Oh yes, I’m very familiar with it,” Mitsuhide replied wryly.
“Terrific! We’ve had a bit of a fuss with our principal being injured, but I assure you that the replacement we recruited is every bit the beautiful dancer. She’s around here somewhere, I’m not sure where. We’re so excited to see her return.”
“I’m excited then to see her dance. Maybe I’ll stop by during a rehearsal later. Unfortunately though I have to leave and go check on the stalls, make sure that no one’s fighting for a spot. Thank you for the tour, I look forward to seeing your progress.”
“Thank you Lord Mitsuhide.”
Misa sighed, relieved as Mitsuhide’s voice faded away. She wasn’t sure exactly why she felt the sudden need to hide, and by the time she’d gotten over her initial embarrassment it was too late to simply waltz into the conversation. Besides she knew Mitsuhide well enough to know that there would be a great deal of teasing at her cost, as well as a shift in the way her new coworkers saw her.
Anyways, didn’t this present its own opportunity? So rarely did Misa get to pull one over Mitsuhide, sly man that he was. Which was perfectly fine by her generally – she didn’t believe in secrets between partners – but it was fun every once in a while to shock someone like Mitsuhide. And this would truly shock him.
Why should she reveal herself then? Why should she even tell him? He would see the performance at the festival and then… How interesting it would be to see the shocked look on his face. A small smile spread across Misa’s face. Yes, this presented a very entertaining opportunity.
  -------
The rest of the performance was as difficult as the first half – though no less gratifying – and by the time Misa made her way back to the castle she was utterly exhausted. Approaching the entrance she was so lost in her attempts to remember the choreography that she didn’t realize there was someone in front of her until she’d already collided with someone’s chest.
“Oh I’m sor- Mitsuhide!”
“When you said you’d figure something out, I have to admit I didn’t think that plan involved staying out until dusk.”
“I lost track of the time,” she said. “I ended up getting roped into helping people set up stands after I helped this old lady who was selling fabrics. I have to admit, I didn’t realize how much effort got put into these things.”
“Look at my strong, beautiful time traveler,” Mitsuhide smiled. “Still, I never pegged you as someone who would be setting up stands at a festival.”
“Are you calling me lazy?”
“Of course not!” Mitsuhide laughed. “I’m impressed. Though I have to admit, you did have me a bit worried. I was about to send a search party out for you.”
“I hope not! Do you know how much trouble I’d get in with Hideyoshi? I’d be grounded for a month!”
“Grounded?”
“Think of it like house arrest.”
“Ah. I could see Hideyoshi doing something like that.”
“Exactly! So don’t threaten me like that!”
The laughter of the pair carried off into the soft twilight, as Mitsuhide drew Misa into an eagerly reciprocated embrace.
“The rice is going to get cold, we should head inside.”
“You’re right.”
Misa snuggled into Mitsuhide’s chest, suddenly feeling the cool of the early summer night. Though she was glad she had found something she could do, something that reminded her of the work that she so missed from the future, she had to admit that this was her happiest moment of the day. Wrapped in the arms of her lover, laughing about nothing important, this was what she loved most of all.
Letting Mitsuhide lead her towards the main hall she wondered how she’d managed to get so lucky, and vowed that she would do the same for Mitsuhide.
  -------
“Did you know that there’s a dancing troupe in town?”
“I saw their tents and the stage, I assume they’re here for the festival.”
“They are. Interestingly, they’re also the troupe that we stayed with on our mission.”
“Really?” Misa replied, unenthused about where this conversation was going. She generally trusted her acting abilities, but Mitsuhide’s prior work was enough to make her know this was going to be painful.
“Indeed, I was also surprised. Old friends in a familiar place. How picturesque. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll bring you to see them again. They’d be happy to see you again I’m sure.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure! I’ll have to go tomorrow. It will be something to do while you’re out on your job.”
“We aren’t going to go together?’ Mitsuhide pouted slightly. Slinking over to their futon he lay down besides Misa, his silver hair tickling her nose as he leaned towards her. “Have you grown so cold to me already?”
“Of course not! Only, you know I’m not going to get up as early as you, and since the only one here rich enough to own a clock is Nobunaga, I’m not sure how you suggest we plan this.”
“My mouse is so lazy.”
“I think the word you were looking for is practical.”
“Whatever you’d like to call it,” Mitsuhide sighed, rolling around. Feeling a twinge of guilt Misa reached out to slide her palm into Mitsuhide’s hand.
“We’ll have another opportunity, I’m sure of it. Besides, we’ll see each other around I’m sure. I’m going to volunteer again tomorrow, if they’ll give me any work.”
“Ever the active lady,” Mitsuhide commented.
“You love that though, don’t you?”
“I do,” he conceded.
Leaning over to give Misa a soft kiss Mitsuhide quickly enveloped her in a hug.
“Sweet dreams my darling.”
“You too,” she murmured. The only sounds to be heard were the crickets chirping outside and the soft, even breaths of her lover. Soon enough Misa closed her eyes and was transported to the calm waters of her dreams.
  -------
If Misa thought getting out of their conversation without detection was a miracle, then the next few days must’ve been proof that some far off god was toying with her. Day after day Mitsuhide rose at dawn, soft promises upon his lips, and every day Misa waited until he was gone to scramble into her clothes and make her way to the dance pavilion. The amount of times she arrived late was embarrassing, and it was a testament to the patience of the director – and the desperate need for an understudy – that Misa wasn’t summarily sacked.
The day was spent in endless rehearsals which though grueling also brought the actress a deep sense of pride. Nothing felt better than going back to what you loved, even when you felt like you were going to fall down every flight of stairs you used.
If the rehearsals were the only bother she probably wouldn’t have felt very nervous about the whole manner. But alas the rehearsals were not the problem. The persistence of her partner on the other hand, there was the recurring issue. Day after day he visited and day after day Misa made some slapdash excuse to be out of his sight. The director seemed dismayed by her reticence to appear in front of the man directing the entire festival, but Misa laughed it off as best she could, hoping that no one could tell that her promises barely covered her panic.
“But my dear, why are you so reticent? I assure you that you are certainly talented enough to appear in front of Lord Mitsuhide. You should be proud of yourself. Sure, you may not have ever performed in front of someone as high-caliber as him, but we all must start somewhere. You could go far miss, and if you showed a man with money and influence such as him I’m sure you would start that journey.”
“I truly appreciate your worries sir, but I have no wish for such fame. I am merely a performer, a replacement. I would not be right for me to take the place of another performer.”
“Nonsense! Everyone here knows how hard you work. My troupe is constantly speaking about your work ethic and your skills. You ought to have ambitions, it’s the only way to get anywhere in life after all.”
“Really I promise I am alright!”
“I refuse to believe you have no wish to meet the man orchestrating this, that you aren’t at least curious.”
“I am find really. But…”
“But?”
“If you insist I will meet him, however, only after the performance at the festival, once he has seen me perform.”
“What odd requests you make,” the director sighed. “Very well, if you insist.”
“Thank you, I am so very grateful.”
At least now she might have some peace and quiet.
  -------
The day of the festival Misa was woken up with a kiss.
“Is there some special occasion for this?” She teased, cupping Mitsuhide’s cheek.
“Do I need an excuse to spoil you?” Mitsuhide replied, leaning into her touch. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, featherlight and warm with love, he shook his head. “I just wanted to kiss you. It’s been so long since we’ve spent any real time together after all.”
“I’m sorry,” Misa mumbled, flushing slightly.
“I was the one rushing out every day. Though I do appreciate the apology. You never did end up coming with me to see the troupe again. You really must be a mouse, or at least as swift as one, always out of sight when I’m looking for you.”
Misa smiled softly, giving Mitsuhide a peck on the cheek in return. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go meet them with you, tonight.”
“You’d better keep your promise this time around.”
“Mitsuhide!” Misa gasped, feigning shock. “Did you just imply I don’t keep my word.”
“Perhaps I did,” he smirked.
“The festival’s not over yet, I still have time you know.”
“Not much.”
“Enough.”
By then the pair was so close their noses brushed against each other, eyes soft with love meeting one another. As if drawn by an invisible line the two melded into a kiss, made urgent by passion and tender by love. There was a pause before anyone spoke again.
  -------
Though it was midday and the lanterns were not yet lit the festival was in full, raucous swing. Pressed up against Mitsuhide’s arm so as to not get carried away by the crowd Misa craned her neck taking in the sights, not wanting to miss a single fragment of this, her first festival.
“Curious aren’t we?” Mitsuhide teased, leaning down so his lips brushed her ear. Though Misa knew there was no way she would have heard him otherwise, she still felt her heart jump.
“Well, why not? This is all your work after all. I want to see what you’ve done.”
“I wouldn’t call it all mine, considering I’m not the one running the stalls. But I do appreciate the sentiment. Any thoughts so far?”
“Well, I’ve never seen another festival in the Sengoku era to compare with, but if I had to, I’d say this one is my favorite.”
“No comparisons necessary?”
“None whatsoever!” She assured him.
Mitsuhide let out a laugh at that. Tugging her closer to him ever so slightly he looked at her with kind eyes, before making a sweep of the people around them. Children ran this way and that, their shrieks concealing the outraged parents that called for them to slow down, be careful, don’t run into people. The smells of different products was overwhelming, from spices to fish to dyes. Everywhere you looked was crowded, with stalls of every shape and size fitting into the landscape, sometimes wherever they could. Hawker cried their wares and music from various traveling troupes filled the air, adding to the chaos. It was neither orderly nor refined, and Misa adored it for that.
The day passed quickly, as the two explored stalls, ate their fill on various exotic foods, and drank cup after cup of tea under the hot sun. Soon enough however the heat began to dissipate, and soon enough the air was filled with the soft orange glow of the lamps.
“Soon the performance will be under way. Come, I’ll find us some seats before everyone starts to swarm.” Mitsuhide began to lead Misa towards the place where the troupe had set up.
Realizing what was about to happen Misa pulled back, her action violent in itself sudden desperation. Wheeling around with worried eyes Mitsuhide turn back towards her.
“Is something wrong?”
“No! Just, I, uh, I suddenly feel so hungry! I want to grab something quick.”
“I’ll go with you then.”
“No! You go, find us a seat, I’ll meet up with you later.”
“Misa,” Mitsuhide’s tone was soft with concern, “you’ve been avoiding the dancing troupe this entire time. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, he looked at her with soft eyes. “If there is you can tell me. If someone was unkind to you when we stayed, or too forward. I don’t want you to hide anything from me, especially something that’s obviously been making you so uneasy for so long.”
The words melted her heart, and Misa found herself smiling. Walking forward she threw her arms around Mitsuhide. After a pause he did the same, enveloping her in a soft embrace.
“Thank you Mitsuhide,” she finally said, pulling back. “I’m sorry I worried you. You’re right that I’ve been avoiding the troupe, but you haven’t quite figured out why yet. Go find a place to sit, I promise that I’ll reveal the answer soon enough.”
“How mysterious,” Mitsuhide remarked. “Very well, I’ll let you do your little scheme. But I’m still worried.”
“Thank you, but I promise you shouldn’t be. All is well, all will be well.”
And with a soft kiss on his cheek Misa let go of Mitsuhide. Watching in a reverie, as soon as he rounded the corner she set off in a sprint.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, “I hope I’m not late.”
  -------
The audience was clearly packed, their murmuring floating through the screens and wings of the stage. Standing obscure Misa felt her heartrate begin to pick up. It had been so long since she’d performed for an audience, so long since she’d done anything like this. What if she messed up or fell? Taking a few deep breaths she tried to keep her mind distracted, noting the beautiful costumes that everyone had donned, glad that hers fit her well.
Even still anxiety tugged at her, and Misa found herself wishing that Mitsuhide was next to her. Knowing that he was in the audience somewhere lay more heavily on her than anything else, for though she knew he would applaud her no matter what, she could not stomach the idea of doing badly in front of him. Especially after all the avoiding and the evading and finally a grand promise. She had to do this well. She had to.
All to soon the music picked up, the dancers and actors taking their places on stage. Watching a performance through the wings had always enthralled Misa, the vulnerability and intimacy of such an act. The performers that rushed past her to get on and off the stage seemed transformed into spirits, flickering all around her, and all the equipment surrounding her did nothing but add to the reverie.
Suddenly the cue sounded, and Misa stumbled slightly onto the stage. Almost immediately her eyes sought out Mitsuhide, as if he were a lighthouse guiding her. The faces were a swath of shades however, and for a moment she wondered if he had not come. Despair began to flood her, even as her limbs found the familiar steps.
Soon thereafter however the magic seemed to come back to her. Once faltering steps became confident gestures, and soon Misa found herself dancing as she’d once been, pouring her soul into this role. It was such a special role after all, one that had forged her relationship with the man she loved. She wanted everyone to experience those emotions, even if it felt like an impossible emotion to capture, she had to try.
All too slowly and yet far too soon the performance was over. Standing on the stage, listening to the cheers emitted from the audience, Misa once more scanned the crowd. Seconds seemed like minutes for a moment, until a familiar gleam of silver caught her attention. Her smile growing even wider, Misa realized suddenly that Mitsuhide too was staring, very intently.
As soon as the crowd began to disperse, and the actors faded into the tents to change, Mitsuhide walked to the stage. Leaping up onto it he took Misa’s hand. Drawing her close he slowly lifted the mask she was wearing.
“My little fox.”
“How, did you know? Did you like it? Why did?”
Misa’s thoughts tumbled out of her incoherently. The ecstasy of the performance had not yet left her, and the golden lights of the stage were casting upon Mitsuhide beautifully, making him seem like the true fox spirit. Her lover’s golden eyes narrowed, mischief painted on his smile.
“You think I wouldn’t recognize you anywhere? And in a performance such as this? No, the moment you came onstage. I knew who it was. Only I couldn’t believe it, no matter how much sense it made. You truly are spreading your wings.”
“First I’m a mouse then a fox then a sparrow? What’s next?” Misa teased, though her tone was somewhat distracted as she felt herself drowning in Mitsuhide’s presence, made all the more vibrant by where they were and what he said.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “You’re the one surprising me after all.”
Slowly Mitsuhide removed Misa’s mask completely from her head. Letting it drop on the floor he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Responding in turn Misa wrapped her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers in the soft feathery lightness of his hair. Hands finding her waist Mitsuhide deepened the kiss, and soon the world was drowned out in a wave of static.
“My lord Mitsuhide!” The surprised cries of the director rang out.
Immediately the pair jumped apart, Misa’s face burning as she did. Looking at the director, whose mouth was opening and closing in a very accurate portrayal of a koi fish, she bit down on the giggles that threatened to rise up out of her.
“Ah, yes. I did not introduce you to my wife.”
“Fiancé Mitsuhide, you know that.”
“Only for a little longer. Besides, you knew us as husband and wife when we last traveled with you, did you not?”
“Yes,” the director managed to squeak out. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you Lord Mitsuhide! Nor did I realize that we had recruited your wife, I mean, your fiancé to our troupe once more. Forgive me!”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Mitsuhide laughed. “We ought to be apologizing to you. I’m sorry we lied to you and then kept this hidden from you, though I’m not sure why my fiancé did such a thing, always getting into mischief that one.”
“Like you haven’t done worse.”
“You’re right about that my darling. Anyways, like I said, do not worry about it one bit, though I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go around telling people our identities. It would be quite the scandal, as if traveling unwed is not already, though I plan to ratify that soon enough.”
“O-of course not my Lord! I will not breathe a word about this. I thank you for gracing us then and now. And thank you my Lady, for doing such a kind deed for us. We will never be able to thank you enough.”
“Don’t worry,” Misa giggled. “I’m sorry again for not telling you. And thank you, for letting me act once again. It made me very happy, to say the least.”
“With pleasure!” The director replied, before turning and scurrying off the stage.
Glancing at each other Mitsuhide and Misa quickly fell into a fit of laughter. The sound carried through the air, mixing with the other joys of the festival.
  -------
The moonlight shone gently on Mitsuhide’s form, once more coating the man in a cloak of silver. Once again Misa marveled that he was a man, not a creature of another world. No wonder people called him a fox spirit.
Smiling down at her Mitsuhide joined his lover on the futon.
“You really are marvelous, you know that,” he murmured. His breath painted her lips with warm air, and Misa hummed happily.
“As are you.”
“Ah but you are so much more, a rare metal, strong and beautiful.”
“Such a memorable compliment, I will never be able to live up to such a thing. Only I can tell you that you are perfect, and that I love you more than I can say. Just as you think I am precious, I think of you the same way.”
“Then we are in accord.”
“I believe so.”
“Good.”
  -------
The cool air carried through the night the promise of sleep, as an orchestra of crickets, frogs, and trees hummed in the summer air. Somewhere in a room in the great palace of Azuchi a light had been blown out. The soft sighs of contentment however could still be heard, as a pair of lovers drifted off together in the starry night.
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violettduchess · 9 months
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A/N: Better late than never! Not a request, just my imagining what these lovely suitors would be like with an infant that wakes up crying 💜
CW: babies, breastfeeding
Suitors x female reader
WC: 2045
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A cry rings out through a peaceful summer night at the palace.
It is small, but powerful.
And very, very insistent. 
Leon
A light sleeper by nature, he gets up, murmuring for you to try and keep sleeping when he notices you stirring too. "I'll see what I can do for the little peanut." He crosses the room to the white bassinet with its pale pink ruffles, a gift from Uncle Yves. Inside his infant daughter is fussing. Tiny fists are clenching and unclenching as her small head turns fitfully left and right.
“Ah, c’mere sweetheart,” he says, voice still rough with sleep as he lifts her gently, laying her against his bare shoulder. One large hand rubs her back as he walks the length of the room, her tiny cheek warm as a spot of sunshine against his shoulder.
“I can take her–” you start to say as you push yourself upright in the bed, but he shakes his head, holding up a finger.
“I think we’ve got this handled, love. Take a look.” He walks over to your side of the bed, his hand still gently stroking the baby’s back. Her tiny head with its halo of black hair rests against him and is still. Not able to see her face, he turns sideways, giving you the sweetest view of your handsome, bare-chested husband holding your daughter close, her small face now relaxed again in sleep. Her father’s warmth was enough to solve whatever problem had woken her and she's drifted back off to the soft, hazy world of baby dreams.
You smile, feeling the way your heart expands, a paradox: never has it been so full of love and yet so very, very light.
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Clavis
He wakes up immediately at his son’s first cry and is out of bed before the sound can even penetrate your deep sleep. He knows how often you get up, how often you are the only one who can satisfy your son’s voracious demands for food but Clavis has told himself that the little tyrant's demands that don't require milk, he will take care of himself. You, his dearest of dears, need as much sleep as you can get.
He bends down over the baby’s cradle, brushing back the boy’s angel-soft hair, the same twilight shade as his. “So noisy at such a late hour. My my. This won’t do.” Carefully he scoops up his son, adjusting his pajamas and then his hand freezes. 
“Oh dear. I think I see why you’re so upset, little Lelouch.” The baby continues to whimper, little cries that, although Clavis knows they are harmless, still feel like they are stabbing right into the center of his tender heart. He never wants to hear his child in distress.
Reaching up, he turns the small knob on the lamp above the dresser where you have all of the baby’s changing things neatly laid out. His son squeaks out little sounds of agitation. “I’ve got you, don't worry. Papa's got you, always and--my goodness, how does such a tiny body produce this much liquid?” He talks, his words soft and almost sing-song as he changes his son’s pajamas and diaper with practiced hands. The baby, now removed of his damp clothing, stops whimpering, instead blinking up at his father with wide golden eyes.
“There has got to be a better solution to this than soaking all those linen diapers,” he mutters as he carefully slides chubby legs into fresh little stockings. “I bet I could invent something that might absorb all your perfectly healthy but still oh so stinky messes much better.” The baby kicks his legs and waves his arms, as if cheering in agreement and Clavis laughs softly, lifting his son back into his arms. “You agree with Papa? You think I can do that? Of course you do.” 
He walks back to the cradle, turning his head to place a gentle kiss to the apple of his son’s plump cheek. He could hold him in his arms forever, never tiring of that infant smell, that the feel of his warm little body so trusting and sweet against him. 
He pauses in front of the cradle. “Hmm….I know. Let’s go on a little nocturnal journey down the hall while talking through some chemicals and their rates of absorption. I bet you’ll be a perfectly delightful assistant.”
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Jin
Both you and Jin yawn, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as your daughter’s cries fill the bedroom. One glance at the time and he sighs, reaching over to tenderly touch your cheek with the back of his hand. “She’s on time, our little one,” he murmurs in his deep voice even as you are pushing yourself up with one hand and already unbuttoning your nightgown with the other.
He gets up, walking over to the crib where the infant is crying, her shock of brownish hair standing up in every direction. “Mommy’s already getting ready for you, princess,” he says as he reaches down and lifts her. She’s so small in his large hands. He walks back to bed, murmuring soft little shushing noises, and then carefully hands her over to you. You help her find the right position and then sigh when she begins to nurse, her cries immediately quieted. Glancing up, you find Jin sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you both with a curiously thoughtful expression.
“What is it?” 
He watches you a moment, then shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his handsome face. “It’s just….I’ve always liked that particular body part.” You snort, running your fingers over your baby’s fine chestnut hair. “That’s an understatement.” He chuckles, shrugging before continuing his thought. “Yeah well…it’s just…I think….now that I see ‘em being used to feed our little girl….I think….I think I actually like them MORE now.”
You can’t help it. You start giggling, a burst of yellow happiness that colors the gray exhaustion of new parenthood. “God, I love you.” You crook a finger at him and he matches your smile as he climbs back into bed and leans close to you. You place a kiss on his chiseled cheekbone, warm and affectionate. A sigh born of tender happiness is his answer, along with the words, “I love you too.”
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Silvio
“Stay in bed. I’ll go.” He’s up, striding across the bedroom to the bassinet before you can even finish rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Aye, piccolino, sono qui.” He reaches down, running a hand over the restless infant's back. But no soothing words or pets seem to be enough. He lifts the baby carefully, still in that new stage of fatherhood where a baby feels like the most fragile thing in the world.
You watch your two pale-haired men, frowning slightly as the littlest one continues to fuss. "He can't be hungry again, can he?" You have just finished feeding him until he fell into a milk-drunk state of blissful sleep, his body heavy and warm, not thirty minutes ago. He had been sleeping so soundly that hope for more than an hour of sleep at one time had risen in your heart.
Silvio lays the baby against his shoulder. His hands are bare, with only his simple gold wedding band left on his elegant fingers. Every other piece of jewelry has been removed for the sake of his child. Necklaces would get in the way of his son sleeping on his bare chest. Earrings might hinder his ability to press his cheek against his fine, moonlight-spun hair. 
"Ain't no baby in the world that could eat again after all that milk." He inclines his head towards his son. "Listen to you, cucciolo. All that growling." He rubs his small back in soothing circles. And then the most extraordinary thing happens: the tiny prince lets out the most raucous of burps. The kind that sends a quake through his little body.
"Dio mio," his father mutters, blue eyes wide as he looks down at his son. You grin through your sleepiness. "Here I thought only his grumbling was like his father." 
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Gilbert
His daughter's cry shatters the night's peace in an instant. Both you and Gilbert wake up immediately, but he's quicker than you, throwing back the covers and crossing the room to the cradle carved from darkest walnut. 
He spots the problem immediately. At some point during the night she had kicked her blanket to the end of her cradle where it lies bunched up and useless. Her socks are nowhere to be seen, a display of her magician-like talent for making them disappear. He reaches down and sure enough, her tiny feet are like ice blocks.
"Always the same thing with you, oder Mäuschen? What have socks ever done to you?” He lifts her from her cradle, tucking her securely into the crook of his arm as he makes his way over to the dresser that has been designated hers. You reach across the bed, turning on the lamp that sits on his nightstand and he glances at you over his shoulder, eyes bright with appreciation. “Thank you, Häschen.” Now he can see better, his fingers trailing over the tiny rolled up socks and tights. When the baby makes a small cooing sound, he stops. “These?” He pulls out a pair of soft black tights embroidered with mini red roses. “Ahh a good choice.”
He hums as he walks over to the changing table, the sound soft and soothing, the gentle rush of a river through the night. As he carefully changes her diaper and then works her plump little legs into the tights, humming gives way to him singing. "Der Mond ist aufgegangen…"
She is curious, all thoughts of crying gone, watchful crimson eyes blinking as she keeps her gaze on the source of the calming sound. “Fertig,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the soles of her now covered feet. "All done." Then he lifts her, carrying her not to her cradle but back to the bed. He slides in, leaning back against the support of the many bed pillows, settling in. Her eyes are already closing as she snuggles in close against his chest.
You watch them both with a smile as tender as the moon’s joy in the stars.
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Chevalier
The man who took an army to wake up is on his feet in an instant. He is silent as he crosses the room, leaning down to check on his crying daughter, her pale head of blond hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. He carefully lifts her from the bassinet, marveling in the back of his mind at how very small she is.
He glances back to the bed where you are still deeply asleep. “Your mother is exhausted from all your demands.” He wouldn’t usually condone speaking to a baby as they are incapable of understanding but he’s found that she calms down when she hears his voice. Even now her whimpering stops, her tiny cheek resting on the soft linen of his shirt. She’s gone very still, as if truly listening to his words. “You’ve eaten twenty minutes ago. We can eliminate hunger. Your bottom is….” He pats it gently, checking. “...perfectly dry. The room is neither too hot nor too cold.” He wraps his hands around her feet. She’s still wearing her white socks trimmed with yellow lace. “Your feet are adequately covered.” He tips his head back to look down at her. Her perfect, tiny fingers are curled into his shirt and her body feels heavy, drowsy with sleep. 
She attempts to turn her head, burying her face in his shoulder and he reaches up, helping her, running his strong fingers over her downy hair when she has found a position that is comfortable. Chevalier walks over to the white wooden rocking chair you have positioned by the window and lowers himself into it.
“You simply wanted to be held, didn’t you?” A heavy, stuttering sigh leaves her small body, almost as if in answer to her father’s line of questioning. He cups her head with his hand, tilting his face down to place a soft kiss on her hair. “I’ll comply, little one.” He settles into the chair and begins rocking gently back and forth, father and daughter, bathed in loving, silvery moonlight.
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Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart
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omkookie · 8 months
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"Don't worry. It's just me."
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⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, Yandere!Rio, NONCON, somnophilia, choking, unprotected sex. Fem!MC
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Yandere Rio is so twisted that he no longer acts like Rio. He’s lost in the madness of his obsession, and his crazed mind can’t reason or differentiate right from wrong anymore...🩷
....
Rio thinks it's too much. Your endless studying, and undying devotion as Belle. You work far too much, way too hard, and you don't even treat yourself. That's why, as your caring butler he takes it upon himself to take care of you and relieve you of your stress. You wake up with his hand clasped over your mouth and his cock inside of you.
Your worried eyes frantically try to focus on him through the darkness of your room, and you thrash around, trying to scratch and kick your assaulter until you finally hear a familiar voice speak. "Don't worry. It's just me~" Rio says under his breath, And your eyes water with stinging hot tears. You feel dreadfully weak because you realize that it’s him. He, your most trusted person was raping you. That breaks your heart far more than knowing someone else was doing it.
Rio hears your muffled cries and quiet sobs, yet he pretends not to. His hand moves to your neck, and he gives your throat a hard enough squeeze as a warning for you to be quiet. “I’m going to take my hand off of your mouth, okay?” He speaks, and your erratic breathing increases as he warns you not to scream. “Don’t scream.” He says sternly, making sure to tighten his grip on your throat to get his words through your head.
He takes his hand off of your mouth, and you let out a whimper as you ask him why.
Why is he doing this?
“Because I love you so much! I want to make love to you and take care of you. You’ve been working so hard.” He says, as his other hand moves toward your hip to hold you.
What happened to your Rio? This one couldn’t be him. He just couldn’t.
“It’s okay! You don’t need to cry.” He tells you. “You know, I’m veeery happy to be with you.” He chuckles at the end, and you feel your stomach twist in disgust.
“I love you so much.” He repeats those words like they're a mantra.
He uses your body as he pleases, eventually tiring you out enough for you to stop resisting. You’re helpless, You can’t get him off of you, and he won’t be letting you go any time soon. His hips slam into yours harder now, making you jerk in surprise. You know he’s close, and he knows you’re tired. “You’re already sleepy?” he asks, and you nod, even if he can’t see it in the dark.
“Just give me a moment… I’m almost done.” He whispers, and you wait tiredly. Wait for him to finish filling you with his cum as if you were some toy. After what feels like forever, He finally does. A fresh stream of tears runs over the dried ones on your cheeks, and Rio snuggles against you, pressing you firmly against his body.
"I love you, Goodnight.” He kisses your shoulder, and you remain quiet.
You lie there, trapped in his arms and unable to get as much as a wink of sleep after what has happened. You feel dirty, sinful, disgusting. You want to take a shower and scrub your skin, hoping you can get him off of you, wash him away and wash off all of the guilt and shame that you feel.
You can’t sleep that night. You can’t get up and clean yourself, You can’t move an arm without his grip on you tightening. He’s not sleeping, and as his hand wraps around your neck to hold you in place, It slowly sinks in to you that you’ll never be able to sleep normally again.
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ikeromantic · 4 months
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His Touch
How the IkePri guys show affection through touches . . . headcanon ofc.
Chevalier
His touch is sure and possessive. There is a false confidence in his rough handling. He knows he lacks practice and a gentle hand, but this does not deter him. He will learn you until his touch is the only thing you crave. Until his hands memorize the map of your body, and his lips have claimed every peak and valley.
Clavis
Playful, progressive, experimental . . . Clavis' touch is all that and more. You are the material and the result, a means and an end. He loves to toy with you, his touches carnal and teasing. Adventurous. There is never a dull moment. And the more he tries, the more he wants to try. He will push the boundaries of pleasure and find new ways to make you sigh or scream.
Nokto
He touches you with practised hands. A man that calculates the value and impact of every touch. Nokto knows you in ways you do not know yourself. Despite the depth and breadth of his knowledge, love is new to him. And so, even with all his experience, he is often surprised. Not by your reaction, but his own.
Luke
His touch is unpracticed but confident. A simple certainty, both gentle and protective. Though his size makes him sometimes cautious, he trusts himself with you. He is encompassing in his affection, and even the lightest caress will often lead to being hugged, lifted, held. He wants to hold you close, all of you to all of him.
Leon
His touch is passionate and sweet. A burst of fire that warms without burning. He values every brush of his skin against yours. Holding hands under the table, letting his knee rest against your leg, a kiss on the cheek in passing. Leon is unreserved in his affection and it shows in the way he reaches for you.
Jin
Jin's touch is the essence of adoration and desire. Though he is an experienced lover, his previous encounters were practical, a pleasurable transaction. In short, nothing like the love he shares with you. This shows in the intimacy he shares. From his possessive arm around your waist to the less-than-chaste kiss goodbye before he goes about his business. If he could, he would never let go.
Yves
His touch is that of an artist with his most valued treasure. Gentle yet desperate, eager to hold and love. You are his favorite thing. He wants to show you off, his arm linked in yours, a partner. He wants to treat you with gifts and treats, his touch joyful and creative. He wants to be the only one you see, greedy and wracked with desire.
Licht
He touches you with a sense of awe. You are the unexpected future. A world he did not believe existed for him. He lives in you, through you, beside you. His touch is almost worshipful. When you are with him, anything is possible. His touch is a fevered need to know you are there. That you will always be there. And to remind you that he is still here, because of you.
Sariel
His touch is the devil's. Wicked and wonderful, a lover with experience. Disciplined and cool, he keeps his passionate side well hidden in public view. From the outside, it would be easy to dismiss the brush of a kiss to your cheek, the hand on your back, the momentary press of his side to yours. But these are all promises of more, when the moment is right. In private, he is still disciplined but far from cool. His love is a flame that burns and warms.
Rio
There is only one word for his touch. Devotion. All of him is yours. Every touch is a surrender to you, and a claim. What you take, you give. He wants to be everything for you. A caretaker. Protector. Friend. Lover. Confidant. His hand on your shoulder, his lips to your ear, his eyes always on you.
Keith
Keith's touch is cautious, at times reserved. You are a precious creature, a wonder that he is only beginning to explore. Even after years together, there is a sense of wonder in him at every kiss and embrace. He is exultant and protective, his fingers twined with yours. His kisses always begin gently, but may not end that way. His touch is kind, unpracticed, authentic and genuine and overflowing with love.
Wicked Keith
His touch is playful, taunting you with unexpected sensations. The sharp nip of his teeth, the caress of his tongue instead of a chaste kiss. He thrills with your reactions, and always seeks some new way to excite you. His hands are possessive, and whenever possible, he will hold onto you. He is fierce and wild, a proud creature that has claimed you for his own, and this shows in everything he does - from the way his hand settles around your shoulders to the press of his lips to yours.
Silvio
Silvio is a practiced lover, a man of wealth and experience. His touch is an adventure, an exploration of you. You are his discovery, a strange and lovely creature that passed his careful defenses and now that you are within the walls of his heart, he will never let you go. While his words are sometimes brash, his touch never is. He is a thoughtful lover, an affectionate friend. His hand rests on the small of your back, or holds your hand as if you were a delicate flower he is afraid he might crush. His kiss is like the ocean, calm upon the surface and churning with deep currents beneath.
Gilbert
His touch is that of the conqueror, one that revels in the delight of what he unexpectedly won. Possessive, an arrogance that belies the desperation and uncertainty beneath. A lonely creature that has found you, and will never let you go. You are both the entertainment and the entertained. In possessing you, he is possessed. His touch is needy, hungry, and eager, though he would never admit it. His kisses are fevered passion hidden behind a calculating veneer.
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xxsycamore · 5 months
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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝟔𝟗
↬ 📜 The Belle Covenant, Clause 69: "A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover." Emma initiates 69 with each prince. You know, for political reasons.
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Leon x Emma; Chevalier x Emma; Yves x Emma; Nokto x Emma; Licht x Emma; Jin x Emma; Clavis x Emma; Luke x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: 69 (Sex Position); Oral Sex; Rough Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Bathroom Sex; Gentle Sex; Rough Sex; Deepthroating; Blow Jobs; Face-Sitting; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist
a/n: Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that's right, last year's one. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 1: ORAL SEX | SIXTY-NINE
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
The Belle Covenant, Clause 69:
"A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover."
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"Now, Prince Leon, let's see if you're more of a taker or a giver…"
Propped up on his elbows on the bed, Leon had just told Emma he's hers to play with. He's so casual as ever, always there for her, ready to give a shoulder where she needs it. From how well they clicked it was bound to happen sooner or later, ending up in the same bed. Seeing Emma turn around and straddle his torso, Leon is pretty sure she's taking him for a ride.
Until she gets all comfortable with his cock in her mouth, retaining this position.
Now, Leon is not the one to idly sit and be pleased by someone without returning the gesture. It just doesn't sit right with him, when all it takes is a swift maneuver and Emma's leaking pussy would be right in front of his face and ready to be ravished.
The vigor with which Leon swirls his skilled tongue inside her depths can only be rivaled by the way hers wraps around the girth of his cock, tracing the delicious vein that protrudes on its side. She switches for teasing the slit of his tip, and Leon groans; the pleasure ricocheting right back to her core in the form of a sultry vibration.
"Suck it harder. Damn it, Emma, just like that… I'm going to cum, Emma. Cum with me."
They're locked in this loop of giving and taking all the way until their mutual peak hits. Hard.
Leon surely is a master of this trade, in addition to guiding her and praising her. She hums in bliss and takes a mental note of his skills, for future reference.
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Chevalier is a tough nut to crack. First, he needs a good reason to cooperate regarding any of the clauses in the list. Why would he care? Second, he needs a good reason to comply specifically with the absurdish idea that Emma poses about 'testing his justness'. So she gets a little creative and a little mischievous, and gives him the necessary push.
In a little game of (big) cat and mouse, Emma jumps from the sofa to the bed before Chevalier can put his claws on her. Backed against the headboard of the bed, she has nowhere to escape, but the book that started it all remains in a secure hold against her chest.
"I'll give you your precious book back if you give me something in return. Or does the mighty future king of Rhodolite not see it fit to give in order to take?"
"The 'mighty future king of Rhodolite' doesn't fancy anyone touching his property with their dirty little hands," He looms in closer, caging Emma's body with his own, knowingly intimidating her, "And he has nothing to negotiate with thieves."
The book is snatched from her hands without much fight, and Emma sinks further down the headboard in defeat. The wise thing to do would be to retreat and rethink her strategy - and definitely not to try and seduce an angry Chevalier by letting out an accidental whine while she's still trapped sprawled beneath him in his lair.
Chevalier remains there, only raising an eyebrow - he shouldn't be too surprised by her open provocations at this point, but it's like he senses something genuine in her supposed act.
"You're hopeless, simpleton."
A sequence of Emma's half-spoken questions and puzzled sounds is merely background noise to the rapidly changing pace of events, as the big cat in front of her lies down and turns on his back. It's not exactly the equivalent of it trustingly showing its belly for rubs.
Emma's slightly trembling legs are gotten a secure hold of, as Chevalier drags her closer and on top of him - almost trying to be gentle but failing - until she's practically straddling his face.
Her pulse quickens rapidly as if she's been granted a throne she is unworthy of.
Just for tonight, she shuts her eyes and accepts the empowering pleasure it entails.
Sucking on her aroused nub until she sees stars, he almost makes her forget the idea behind this ordeal, until she has to remind herself about working for his pleasure too. Chevalier almost doesn't let her - at first, she thinks it's an additional dragging on of things for him, a bother. Once he lets her play with his intimidatingly big cock, though, it proves to be something different. The prideful second prince catches up with her heightened arousal shockingly quickly. His ministrations become sloppier. Such an exchange of pleasure, Emma concludes, is unfamiliar to him. He masks it very well - because by the time she reaches her own orgasm, it feels euphoric. He gave her a lot, and he took a lot, too.
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Yves is almost too pretty right now. Emma laments not having him eat her out in a pose where she can watch his pretty face, his perfect features pressed into her cunt, his cute little nose squished against her clit.
His cupid's bow kissing her glistering, swollen pussy lips.
Yves maneuvers his frame swiftly over her body, just-bathed porcelain skin smelling of expensive oils and silky-to-the-touch caresses ghosting over Emma's equally cared-for body, as they shared intimacies in the bath beforehand. 
Their exchange of pleasure is harmonic; voices joining together in a melody as they moan, aromas entangling in the air and delicate sensations as they roll in the clean, luxurious bedsheets. Yves softly guides Emma's body sideways before laying down the opposite way, muscles relaxing all over, safe for the ones of their sexes which are maddeningly pulsing in a chase towards a mutual peak.
Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.
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From someone with a mouth as big as Nokto's, Emma expects nothing but a big performance to come. She's in for a little more than she bargained for, she finds out as soon as her world turns upside down.
Looking at Emma now, Nokto connects the dots rather quickly as to why she's suddenly feeling coquettish like that - lounging on his couch whenever he's around is one thing, but getting so comfy that she's basically dangling her legs over the backrest, her best bedroom eyes following Nokto upside-down… He wonders if his antics are rubbing off her, or if she's giving him a taste of his own medicine. Hands folded casually on her belly, she finally poses the question that's been hanging heavily in the air, while Nokto dresses himself for another night out. It's now or never.
Emma is suddenly the fox's appetizer when he leans down and buries his face between her legs, the hem of her dress conveniently ridden up on her waist as if to clear his way. 
She's never before given a blowjob upside-down but she likes a challenge. Nokto's crouch is right there in front of her face, so she makes quick work of his belt that he hasn't even fastened all the way earlier during his preparations for going out. It works out surprisingly well, a quick and explosively pleasurable deal sealed with a gush of fluid on their tongues.
Nokto works swiftly when there is gain for him, and surprisingly plays fair, too.
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Like the carnivore he is deep inside, Licht loves taking his pray to his den. His room is mostly veiled in darkness and Emma's eyes are not well-adjusted to it by the time Licht begins ravishing her, but there is no fear in her heart. His tonguing on her heated core is calculated and it's nothing greater than what her body can take - and it comes naturally to her to want to give him something in return.
They're in no hurry, taking turns pleasuring each other, usually one being breathless and halting ministrations because of those of the other party. Emma feels shy being so vocal with a partner that only occasionally grunts every now and then. His giving is silent but evident and abundant, and she feels like putty in his strong hands. Licht takes long sweeps of his tongue on her sex, dragging her whole body back and forth with the impact, not caring that the bobbing of Emma's head turns sloppier. Once he releases his pent-up desire whole in her mouth, he tells her to spit if she wants - and feels his blood rushing forth hotly when she doesn't. In the much-appreciated post-sex cuddles session afterward, Emma catches a glimpse of a smile and dozes off contently.
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Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will. Though it would be a lie if she said she wasn't once curious whether the rumors were true.
Her observations so far are that as many women the first prince has taken to bed, he is in the habit of behaving like he hasn't been with one in ages. Paying attention to every naked millimeter of her skin, Jin's hands never stop roaming, pleasuring, loving. He also eats her out as if he hasn't put food in his mouth for decades, she notices - a deep masculine grunt leaving his throat at the first taste of her hot juices on his tongue. He is a big boy who doesn't mind getting dirty, and that might be the best thing about him, as much as Emma refuses to admit. His technique is worked to perfection - the youthfully needy opening act serving just to trick her. It's funny how she attempted to blow him first and then turn it into a hot sixty-nine from there, when in reality he was the one to initiate that. Jin always struck her as the person who likes to sit back in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, one on her head, as he's been serviced. But he is a giver, a damn good giver.
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Emma doesn't know why she had expectations of Clavis doing this straightforwardly and fairly, when he's already a well-known menace outside the bedroom. Being naked and open for his cruel teasings, for the touch of those wicked fingers that aim to irritate and to never satisfy, it drives her crazy. Clavis demands to be the one touching her and not the other way around - after all, there are so many ways to play with a bunny like Emma, why limit themselves to some boring position? Clavis has Emma climaxing twice on his fingers before he finally allows her to return some of the pleasure, guiding his flushed tip past her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. She then understands - for all Clavis is worth, he's prone to becoming an absolute mess once pleasured. The little delicious gasp falling from his beautiful curved lips soon turns into a hearty moan, laced with desperateness and lust as he pushes Emma's head to urge her to take more of his cock inside her tight, warm throat. His little plan of turning her into a pliant, overstimulated pile of limbs is unsuccessful when he possesses a voice so erotic it sees her hunger awaking once again, head full of thoughts about riding him until sunrise. In addition, Clavis seems to enjoy the rougher manner of Emma seating her dripping cunt directly on his face, leaving him almost no room to breathe. Maybe riling her up was all in favor of receiving her harsh command of "Shut up already and pleasure me properly!"
The chances of coming with the upper hand when bargaining with Clavis are low, but the headaches are always worth it in the end.
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Luke should have been the gentle giant who lets Emma catch a breather even in moments of burning lust. That's how she always imagined him to be with a lover - barely-there touches exchanged between relaxed sighs, lying down in some secluded napping spot that would once again serve its true purpose once every last drop of pleasure is squeezed out of their bodies.
Well. While it does sound good enough to Emma, she wouldn't trade her current position for anything in the world.
Adrenaline rushing all through her body, Emma's heart is about to leap out of her chest with the sheer lasciviousness of how Luke has her right now.
Someone as tall and strong as him, she should've prepared herself to be putty in his hands. To be folded in positions she couldn't paint with her imagination… or, like right now, to be picked up with her ass up and held in the air as Luke shamelessly devours her cunt.
With pleasure rendering her silly, she can't possibly hold back from attempting to suck his cock while in this position, even if its massiveness in its full erect glory intimidated her at first. For the timid, vanilla experience she expected, fucking like animals is the last thing she saw coming from Luke - and she suddenly finds himself at his mercy as he has complete control over her body.
The aftercare is more reminiscent of her initial thoughts, and coming down from her high never felt better. Once you awaken the slumbering monster inside the youngest prince of Rhodolite, you're in for more than you bargained for.
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maries-gallery · 9 months
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For Yves, happiness comes in the light that shines in your smile, in your joy and well being. 
If you are happy, so is he. 
And on bad days, Yves knows exactly how to chase the clouds away from your eyes. Quick to fill his bathtub with warm water, rose scented bubbles for your skin and bath salt with rose petals for the stress. He doesn’t give you time for questions, as he leads you in the bathroom and sits you in the tub. 
“Yves what is-” You question as he pushes you in the room, already stripping you off your shirt. 
“Just get in and let me take care of you.” 
You do, letting out a blissful sigh as his dutiful fingers massage your scalp, your fiance washing your hair for you, the air lightly dusted with a sweet aroma of fresh blooming flowers. 
The softest of smiles curves the corners of his lips when you lean in his touch, eyes fluttering close as you bathe in the water’s warmth and the pressure of his fingers untangling sinews and nerves. The stress of the day slowly releasing you of its claws. 
“Feels good?” He asks, heart swelling in his chest when you answer with a nod of your head, “The bath salt comes from Benitoite, people use it for smooth skin and relaxation. The rose soap is from here, a man in the country prepares it himself with his own garden roses.” 
He takes time to wash away the remnants of soap and tension, helping you out of the bath and straight into the softest cotton bathrobe. The fabric caressing your skin as you slide your arms in the sleeves. 
But Yves isn’t done and he intends on pampering you until you have enough of it. So he sits you in front of his vanity, brushing your hair with the utmost care and tenderness before styling them with rich scented oils and silk ribbons that match your nightgown.
“Stop moving around like that!” He lightly scolds you, a soft loving smile on his features as you fidget in your place, both excited and impatient to see the result. 
“But I want to see what it looks like!” He melts as genuine happiness flashes in your eyes, knowing that he has succeeded in bringing your smile back to your features. 
“You look beautiful… As always.” You do not have to turn around to catch the red hue on his porcelain cheeks. 
Now Yves’s favourite step has come: your skincare. He applies all kinds of creams and serums to your skin, soft fingers massaging your face and nape. 
And when all is done, his lips come to your forehead in a peck, guiding you to the mirror in his room to show you your reflection. 
“See? You look much prettier with a smile on your face.” 
Indeed you do. As nothing in this world could light up his heart like your smile does. Nothing in this world, could make his chest swell with joy, like the happiness in your eyes does. 
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star banners by the talented @/saradika
taglist: @aquagirl1978​ @randonauticrap​ @kissmetwicekissmedeadly​ (I don’t remember if you like Yves but there you go, some fluff never hurt anyone <3), @pockcock​ 
send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! 
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judejazza · 3 months
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All The Ways I Love You [Chevalier/Emma]
Saw a post last night where someone wanted Chev eating Emma out on the throne. I can't find it, but I wrote it anyway because I also needed this for myself.
2318 | CW: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, kissing, biting, slight bit of body worship?, Chev rips one of her stockings, semi-public sex
Ao3 Mirror
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Being in the throne room for the first time since she’d become Chevalier’s fiancée was a strange feeling.
In reality, nothing had changed.
There was, of course, the absence of beauty’s time, but that had been gone a long time ago now — a pang of nostalgia crept up in her stomach as she took a few more steps forward. The beautiful sunlight from outside basked the room in a golden glow, and ahead of her on the throne sitting as if it had been made for him, Chevalier seemed almost radiant from the light. Emma’s breath caught in her throat, her steps faltering briefly — and she swore she could see the corners of his lips turn up into a smirk and a huff of laughter come from him.
Her cheeks blazing, Emma hurried towards him.
The room was empty apart from the two of them. His duties for the day were long since over, and yet he’d called her here for some reason that, well, she had no clue. Honestly, she found nerves building in her stomach as she slowed her pace to stop before him and drop into a slight curtsey. For a long while Chevalier remained silent, his eyes watching her, taking her in — the sunlight on her back, her shoulders exposed in a dress perfect for the warm Rhodolite Summers. The proper way she held herself—
He’d intended to take her for a walk, just the two of them, some quality time together outside of the palace but there was something else there inside of him now — something carnal and animalistic, something which made no logical sense, but god did he feel so compelled to do it. Chevalier understood love wasn’t a simple emotion, neither were the things that came with it; physical attraction for one, was something he found like he understood less and less. That the sight of her naked body under the covers each morning could entice him, that a simple glance of her bare skin when she got up to get dressed could pool heat in his stomach, make him want to disregard his work and spend time with her in bed. It was all entirely illogical and irresponsible.
Yet more and more he found himself wanting to act on such desires.
And now he found himself with no work to attend to, an afternoon just for the two of them… and there was nothing to stop him doing precisely to her what he wanted.
Rising from the throne in a way Emma felt was far, far too graceful, he offered his hand out for her. She placed her hand in his gingerly, a gasp echoing in the room when he gripped her tightly and tugged her towards him. He was gentle and yet his grip told her there was no room for arguing, even when he picked her up at the waist with both hands and sat her down on the very same throne he’d just been sat on.
At first she was entirely uncomfortable.
Another huff of laughter left his lips as he stared at her. “Relax.”
“I shouldn’t sit here.”
“The king has said it’s okay.”
Emma opened her lips to retort, to argue with him that it really wasn’t right, but cut herself off when he was suddenly on his knees in front of her. “No, Chev- King Chevalier! You shouldn’t kneel to me-”
“And why not?” he asked, ice blue eyes flicking up to meet her own gaze as he gently lifted her leg.
Why not indeed, she thought, gulping down any arguments she’d had. Funny how his touch, how the way he looked at her could chase away arguments, and make her lose all sense of propriety. This absolutely wasn’t right, and yet there was no point arguing with him — he always got his way, mostly because she found herself unable to deny him the things he wanted.
After all, these days, the things he seemed to want most were new ways to express his love for her.
He’d grown a lot as a partner in the short time they’d been together, and yet even how as he shed his gloves and haphazardly discarded them to the side, his touch was still clumsy and rough. Despite his gloves his hands were still calloused, even through her stockings she could feel his warmth, feel how rough they were-
Chevalier’s eyes returned to her legs, focusing on the soft curve of flesh hidden under the fabric. What a nuisance, he couldn’t help but think, pulling her shoe off and throwing it with his gloves without giving it much thought. Her leg tried to pull back in response, but having anticipated her shyness, his grip on her ankle was firm; not enough to bruise or hurt, but just enough that she knew there was no escaping him. Hadn’t she willingly entered the beasts lair, after all? Surely she should have realised what happened when a tasty little bunny rabbit so willingly, so innocently let herself be alone with a hungry tiger.
He finds himself swallowing thickly as he lowers his face to her ankle. A sharp intake of air from her echoes in the room as he places a soft kiss there, even through the fabric he can feel her body warm up. As he trails kisses up her legs she finds herself unable to look away even though he doesn’t look up once, too focused on his task even when he lifts the skirts of her dress. She hears a slight sigh of annoyance from him and she bites her lip to stop herself laughing, at times like this when he’s frustrated that he can’t simply access her without layers of lace and silk she finds it cute, but more than that she always finds herself feeling desired. That Chevalier, who hated to waste time on pointless things, would take his time to undress her carefully when he could simply rip the fabric from her, or even have it so she came to him barely clothed — it told her he savoured these moments with her.
The graze of his teeth on her thigh sends electricity through her and she fidgets briefly, heat pooling between her legs as he slowly pulls her stocking down with his teeth. Perhaps he’s impatient, she thinks, watching as he leaves it half way down her calf, only to return his lips to the inside of her thigh. They are rough and clumsy, yet she can feel the tenderness in his intention and without thinking she reaches a hand out to run through his hair. Briefly, he pauses.
“Chev…” she murmured out, wriggling slightly at his continued kisses. “What are-”
He nips briefly on her thigh, it’s light and barely hurts but it’s enough to tell her he wants her to be patient. Wait and find out. Emma swallows thickly, and she feels his lips upturn in satisfaction, tongue lapping at the spot he’d just bitten to soothe it. She’s almost certain this isn’t what he’s brought her here for, but all her thoughts simply seem to melt away under his ministrations — and the higher he goes the more she feels herself burning up. Soon he’ll come to the spot she’s hottest, her panties already wet just from how his lips had been on her — what would he think when he got there?
Yet the moment his nose brushes against her folds through the lace fabric, he doesn’t hesitate, his lips placing kisses there instead. Emma gasps, wriggling back in the throne to try and escape his mouth, but his hands grip her thighs and keep her in place and she’s certain for a moment she hears a dangerous growl from his lips as she mewls. The sound echoes in the vast room and she holds her breath instead, intent to keep quiet so that anyone passing by outside wouldn’t hear her.
Apparently, though, he is unsatisfied with this, as his gaze finally raises to meet hers, locking her in place. Again he bites her, this time it hurts and she unwillingly lets out a moan — unstifled by herself. There’s an almost playful gleam in his eyes as he watches her. “You’re not usually so quiet, simpleton. Why now?”
“It’s… this place, if someone hears-”
“Then they will know you’re mine.”
The possessive growl in his tone as he says the words so simply makes her breath stop.
Sometimes she forgets that she truly is his — that she sleeps at his side, that each night he finds new ways to display his love for her. Trying to find a way which suits him best, he’s always rough with her but he never hurts her — and afterwards he always holds her, hands always clumsily soothing the spots which ache the most.
Chevalier doesn’t allow her time to think when he pulls off her other shoe and discards it. He doesn’t take his time with her other stocking, this time she hears a ripping as he pulls it from her and a sharp gasp escapes her lips — a protest about the price that is gone the moment she feels his hands on the edge of her panties. Those, too, get discarded quickly, the fabric leaving marks on her skin which make her hiss and mewl in pain in his eagerness to get rid of them.
His mouth finds her wet folds instantly, hands pushing her thighs apart to give him space, and she can do nothing but allow him to do what he wishes. It feels far too good — how his tongue dips inside of her, the way he swirls it around, and the way he flicks his eyes up to her, taking in her flushed face. Yet it’s not enough for him, her thoughts are still too clear, she’s still aware of their surroundings and not yet so focused on him that nothing else fills her senses.
One of his hands slides from her thigh and she soon feels two of his fingers penetrating her. Emma’s moans fill the room, and Chevalier huffs in satisfaction as he focuses back on making her come undone right there. This is entirely unlike him, but he can’t stop himself, all he wants to do is consume each part of her — right down to her thoughts. If he’s on her mind all day every day he thinks he’d be happy, and briefly he pauses to look up at her.
Emma’s face is more flushed than before, her head tilted back slightly and her mouth slightly agape. Her hands have moved to grip the arms of the throne, and yet… yet he wants more. He suppose love has made him greedy, and yet he can’t stop. No part of him can.
His fingers curl up inside of her, pulling a gasp from her. Her back arches in the chair, and just as she feels as though she’s used to the feeling, his lips wrap around her clit. There’s no hesitation before he sucks at her sweet spot; this time the moans he pulls from her are garbled cries of his name, and one of her hands moves from the arm of the throne to tangle into his hair. He knows this, this means don’t stop I’m close.
So he doesn’t.
His fingers stretch her, curling and moving quicker as he continues to suck her sensitive bud more and more until -
Emma’s nails dig into his scalp but he welcomes the brief pain as he tastes the nectar flowing out of her. Chevalier laps it up hungrily, looking up at her to take in the sight of her entirely drunk on the feeling of him; her eyes are watching him, reflecting nothing but him, and he’s positive that he’s succeeded in consuming each part of her thoughts with him. He shifts his weight as he pulls back, licking his lips deliberately at her and lifting each finger to clean them off with his mouth. Emma swallows and he finds himself smirking; not done yet, then?
Good, he thinks to himself, feeling his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable as he rises to his feet. He could just take her here, in the sunlight her body would look perfect, but if someone happened to walk in during that he’s not sure he’d allow them to leave alive, and well—
Chevalier removes his cloak in one smooth motion, grabbing up their discarded clothes in one hand and Emma in his other arm. She’s not sure how he managed to wrap her up in his white cloak so easily, but this is Chevalier and she’s positive he could walk on water if he so wanted. His embrace his warm, and she can smell him this close to him, a scent which belongs to him and only him — god she wants him again.
“I hope you did not assume you’d be getting any rest the rest of the day,” he says significantly, staring down at her with lust blown pupils. Her face is still red, her orgasm still making her entire body glow. Chevalier reminds himself to take her back to his room first, he should keep some senses about him — and yet, as he opens the door to the throne room he looks back at the lonely seat and the thought of her impaled on him, nestled on his lap, breasts bouncing and her cries filling his ears flashes through his mind again.
Perhaps he can love her there another time, right now he wants to keep her all to himself.
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