#ikepri fic
Text
Luke's POV x F! Reader - Part 1
Warning: Dark Content!
Including but not limited to references to prostitution, child neglect and abuse, war and death, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, suicidal ideation, and historically accurate ages for relations. The dark content is almost entirely drawn from/same as Luke's route.
Themes: protection, hurt and comfort, mutual healing, learning to trust, letting yourself feel, and eventually giving into love. Everything is written from Luke's POV.
Part 2
Your boss said you he'd make sure you get a “real good one” tonight. A bonus to go along with your promotion, if you will.
You don't actually care though.
You're just here because it's part of your job — another calculated move that keeps him in your pocket so that you can secure a position as a knight in the palace.
You don't have anything to care about anymore.
You don't have morals left either.
You're essentially dead inside.
You won't complain about getting a little relief — the only other outlet for your frustration being war games and military exercises.
You try not to take out your pent up anguish on the women employed in this wretched business, but it's easy to get a little rough when they take it so well.
You came back to Rholodite seven or eight years ago now. Being in the military meant it was inevitable that you'd have to put up with this aspect of the job eventually.
You tried making excuses that you were too young, too tired, too poor, too busy and so on, but they only worked for so long.
At some point, rejecting the offer came with consequences. Snubbing your boss implies that you take issue with his choices, and coming off as holier-than-thou is great way to get demoted.
You have too many items left on your checklist to get held back now. It's already been too many years — almost more than you can handle.
So here you sit, waiting in some ramshackle room for some sordid whore, drinking some vile shine and hoping it'll take edge off.
It doesn't.
Between your height and your drinking habits, you would need to drink half a bottle or more just to feel a buzz. In truth, you keep your tolerance high intentionally.
You can't afford to get caught off guard.
Hence you're not surprised in the least when the faint kerfuffle you heard begin upstairs ten minutes ago makes its way into the hallway and ends with the door to the room opened and slammed shut behind the girl who gets shoved in.
Tear-stained cheeks.
Pupils blown wide with terror.
Breathing shallow and ragged.
Stance defensive.
Arms curled into her chest.
Obvious rope burn around her wrists.
Swollen wounds from lashing visible beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown.
She can't be any older than Leyla — sixteen at most…
Your blood runs cold.
You grab the scabbard resting against the wall and sling it over your shoulder.
Her eyes feverishly search the space for an escape but find none.
She scampers away when you approach as if she could outrun you within the confines of the room.
You don't bother taking a second glance before walking out.
Two steps and you've caught your target by the arm. No doubt she's the one who shoved the girl in.
“What the fuck is that?” you demand, pointing at the door you exited.
Looking you once over the madam answers cooly, “Your boss asked for the best we have, so I gave you the new one to break in. Is there a problem with the girl?”
“She's not the problem. How the hell did she end up here?”
The woman cocks a painted brow and replies haughtily, “The same way most of them do. Her father sold her to pay off his gambling debt. If you'd rather have a different one, we have plenty of others. You can take your pick.”
“How much did y’ pay for her?” you growl, patience running thin as your fingers begin to dig into her arm.
Snatching herself from your grip, she answers contemptuously, “What's it to you? Look if you don't want her, I have plenty of customers who do.”
“Oh, I want her,” you snarl. Out of this cesspool. “I'm takin’ her with me. So answer my question. What’s the price?”
“I'm not selling her, boy. She'll be worth a hell of a lot more over the course of a few years than the five silver coins I paid for her yesterday.”
“I don't think y’ heard me right,” you hiss and draw your sword from its scabbard. “I said, I'm. Takin’. Her.”
“Like hell you are!” she screeches behind you as you turn on your heel and slam open the door.
Shaking in fear, the girl all but collapses to the floor as you draw near.
Yanking the yellowed sheet from the bed, you stand her up forcibly and wrap it around her barely clad frame.
Too terrified to protest, the girl neither cries nor pleads.
Hiking her over your shoulder with one arm and bearing your weapon with the other you make your way out.
“You can't just run off with her! She's property of the establishment now!”
Pointing your sword at the woman, you reiterate for the last time, “Y’ will put the bill on my tab, and y’ will relinquish her to me. Do I make myself clear, Madam?”
You sheathe your sword once outside, relieved you didn't have to skewer those two drunkards she sent after you. Both hands now free, you cradle the trembling bundle of sheets to your chest.
You know that in your disgust you've been rough with the girl, but a dark road lined with brothels isn't a nice place for a chat in the middle of the night, so you make haste.
After unlocking the door to the little rented apartment in the centre of town, you set her down gently on the bed and begin stoking the few embers still burning in the fireplace. When the kindling crackles and the chilly autumn air starts to warm, you fetch the wash basin and fill the jug from the water you boiled this morning.
As you kneel level to her where she sits with her knees curled into her chest she starts frantically babbling through tears.
“I'll do whatever you want! I promise! Just please don't kill me! The other girls said sometimes the new ones don't come back, but please! I'll do anything you want me to! Just don't kill me!”
Trained to remain stoic at all times, you don't show the shock you feel at the horrific image she paints as you hear her voice for the first time. Setting aside the items in your hand, you lay your palms face up in front of her so she can see your every move.
“Hey, it's okay. Y're safe now. I'm not gonna hurt y’. Y're never goin’ back there.”
It's obvious from her trembling gaze and shivering body that she doesn't believe you.
“I'm Luke. What's your name?”
“Honey…” she murmurs, voice hoarse and cracked.
Furrowing your brow, you ask again, “No, y’r real name. Not the one they gave y’ there.”
There's a long pause. Her fearful eyes glaze over with an emptiness you're all too familiar with.
“I don't know…”
“Y’ don't know?” you catch yourself repeating as an old wound reopens inside you.
“My father always just called me girl… or more often wench…”
Terrified expressions…
Absolute avoidance…
Complete silence…
You manage to beat back the memories threatening to well up within just enough to find your voice once more.
“Alright. Honey it is then, I guess. ‘less y’ prefer somethin’ else?”
She simply shakes her head, tears still streaming down her round cheeks.
“Here. Wash y’r face.”
Pouring out the water over a cloth, you ring it out and offer it to her. A beat falls between her eyeing the item warily and unfastening her clenched fists from the linen sheet she holds so tight.
“They take y’r shoes so y’ couldn't run away?” you ask as she hands back the cloth, tear stains finally wiped away.
“Yes, sir.”
“Just Luke is fine.”
“Luke?”
“Mhm. Luke. Here. Set ‘em down and I'll wash ‘em for y’.”
Frowning at the trepidation creasing her pretty features, you quickly surmise what happened.
“They cut y’r feet so y’ couldn't get far even if y’ tried?”
You can't help the sigh that escapes when she nods and tears up again.
Sick. I hate this world and I hate living in it. God, I can't wait for this all to be over.
Standing up you gather what you need to treat the injuries and return to sit at her feet, then motion for her to drop her legs from her chest. You can't bring yourself to speak, but she does as she's wordlessly told.
As you dip her toes into the basin she flinches. As gently as you can, you scrub the dirt off with the cloth before rinsing each foot with clean water from the jug.
“They take y’r clothes too?” you ask, more to distract yourself from the nauseous feeling knotting up in your stomach than anything because you already know the answer.
“Yes. They burned them…”
With only honey for an antiseptic, you carefully coat each wound and bandage up her feet using the clean strips of gauze you keep for the rare occasion you get hurt in training. Finally, you slip a pair of your far too large woolen hose on and tie them with strings beneath her knees to keep it all secure.
“I'll get y’ some new clothes tomorrow. Just rest tonight. Y'll sleep here in the bed. I'll be over there by the fire if y’ need anything.”
From the confused and scared look on her face you know what she's wondering.
“I'm not gonna touch y’,” you tell her plainly and rise to set the jug and basin on the table.
Voice riddled with even more fear despite trying to reassure her, she mumbles, “Then… why would you buy me?”
How else was I gonna get y’ away from there without cuttin’ down somebody and causin’ a scene?
Falling to your knees once more, you pull her into your arms and squeeze her tight.
“If you don't want my body why did you bring me here? How am I going to repay you… I don't have anything else…”
No… Don't cry again… I can't take no more tears today…
“Shhh. Shhh. Y’r body isn't something y’ pay with. Don't offer that to nobody, y’ hear? Y’ don't owe me for nothing. Just be a good girl and go to sleep for now, okay?”
“I don't understand… Why…?” comes a shuddered whisper against your shoulder.
In truth you don't know either, and maybe in the morning you'll regret not simply walking out alone. But that's a thought for tomorrow.
Part 2
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen luke#ikemen prince luke randolph#luke randolph#ikemen prince luke#ikepri luke#ikepri fic#ikepri fanfiction#ikemen prince x reader#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikepri fanfic#fanfiction
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[fic] More of Barista!Yves fic
More of Barista!Yves fic
Ikemen Prince | Yves Kloss x Emma | G | 495 words
ao3 link (later)
Sequel to Barista!Yves and Customer!Emma vignette
A/N: The sixth of the seven fics for @cy-inky's one week challenge! Prompt is "Please don't cry." I did something a little different today and continued the little ficlet I had of Yves and Emma. There is finally a resolution! You go, Yves!
Divider by @/saradika.
His reaction was a disaster, and by the time Yves had reappeared Emma was gone. His heart leapt off his chest and did a freefall to splat into the floor. Jin was flirting with a customer, and Yves stomped over, whispering furiously to his brother:
“Where is she?!”
Jin took a few seconds before disengaging from the customer. He had a pitying smile on, and Yves dreaded the response.
“The pretty lady left,” he said, and he looked so concerned. “I saw tears streaming down her face ...”
“Gah!” Yves didn't wait for Jin to finish his reply before scrambling outside. He had to catch up to Emma as quickly as possible; he didn't want things to end up the way they were—him escaping from the confession and Emma thinking that she had no chance. What if she thought she'd be better off with that puppy of a blond? Yves had a better shade of blond than the guy! His hair shimmered gorgeously under any kind of light! He also had better sense of style—so take that!
Emma’s figure stood outside the coffee shop just a few meters away, hunched, head bowed, back on him, and Yves feared the worst. He dashed towards her, yelling, “Please don't cry!”
Emma started, straightened up, and whirled around.
“It's not that I'm reje—oh. You're not crying.”
Emma tilted her head, confused. “I'm not.”
“Then why ...” His gaze dropped slightly to find that one of her hands was holding her phone. “Oh ...”
Then he wanted to crumble into ashes—or fall in one of Clavis's pits.
“My father suddenly called,” Emma explained.
“I-I see ...”
Her expression lit up. “Ooh! Did you think that I was crying from rejection?”
“No!”
“Don't feel guilty about it, Yves.” Emma pocketed her phone and approached him. Up close, Yves spied some freckles across her ruddy cheeks.
Wanting to take a step back but resisting that urge, Yves remained in place, resolutely concentrated on Emma's (pretty) face.
One step. Then two. Emma's eyes shone, bright with intent.
“I'm determined to win you over.”
And this was it. He couldn't screw this up again. Now or never.
Yves took a deep breath.
“You don't have to win me over,” he said, carefully at first. He's going to melt right on the spot. “B-Because—I feel the same!”
Emma blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more.
Then she blushed. Like ink spreading on water, pearlescent pink blooming over her exposed skin. It didn't stop her from grinning open-mouthed, a sound of joy escaping from her.
“Oh, Yves, I like you so much!”
If Jin and Clavis and Nokto—and even Leon—could see him now, they'd hoot and whistle at his current state. He knew for sure that he looked like a tomato. He hoped that Jin wouldn—
“Ohoho!” Jin's voice cut through the moment. “I'm gonna call Clavis—”
“NO!”
Beside him Emma laughed, her hand intertwining with his.
#1WEEKCHL#ikemen prince#ikepri yves#ikepri emma#yves kloss x emma#yves x emma#ikepri fic#ikemen prince fic#fluff#?#fic#my fic
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Play with me [Clavis Lelouch x Reader][Smut]
Characters ↬ Clavis Lelouch x Reader
Rating ↬ Explicit [Smut – mdni]
Tags ↬ Smut, just pure Smut
Warning ↬ Thigh-riding, Fingering
A/N ↬ In celebration of Clavis’ English Route release, here’s some straight filth for ya’ll.
Disclaimer ↬ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.
Wordcount ↬ 1.5k
Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady
Please fill out this form if you'd like to be included on my tag list.
The tips of your fingers flittered across the aged parchment as you continued reading, utterly captivated by the book lying before you. A small gasp escaped from your lips as the heroine of the story narrowly avoided death at the very last moment, managing to swing herself up from the jagged cliff with the help of the wild male lead. That’s why, to Clavis’ sheer delight, you didn’t notice when he made his way over to you in the middle of the library, steps light as a feather so as not to draw any attention to himself. Of course, it helped that he had a light tread in the first place, having been so used to sneaking up on innocent residents of the mansion for the sake of his tricks for years. With bated breath, he slowly inched closer and closer to you until his lips were mere millimeters from your ear.
“What’cha reading, Belle?” He murmured, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear and causing you to leap nearly three feet in the air.
“What th--, my God, Clavis! You nearly scared the living daylights out of me,” your eyes were aflame with fury as you glared at the third Prince of Rhodolite, trying your hardest not to let his dashingly handsome looks get the best of you like usual. It was hard. More than hard. His eyes were like pure liquid gold, and that devastating smirk that so often adorned his face captivated you. What made it worse was he knew it. He knew the effect he had on people, especially you.
How would you describe your relationship with the hellcat of Rhodolite? Well, since you’d arrived at the palace, the Prince seemed to take a strong liking to you, going out of his way to irritate you, pull some (mostly) harmless pranks on you, and order you around like you were his own personal maid. You’d spend the first couple weeks refusing him with the resolve of a stubborn bull, but gradually he’d worn you down. The way his gaze would turn so forlorn when he admitted a deep-seated secret, how lonely he was that none of his other brothers seemed to enjoy his company, how he was secretly terrified that nobody truly liked him. You were almost sure it was all an act, but that almost was how he roped you into being his unwilling partner. In fact, that’s how he ended up inviting you to bed and having you accept a mere week ago. The memory of it still ran through your mind at all waking hours of the day. Despite your attempts at avoiding having to talk about what happened, it seemed like you couldn’t avoid him forever.
He gazed upon you with feigned indignation and gasped, dramatically clutching at his chest. “Me? Scare you? I would never dare to. I merely wanted to spend some time with you, especially since you’ve been so busy lately.” Something in his eyes shifted as his gaze dragged up and down your body, lingering at the bare skin visible above your neckline. His soft lips quirked downwards as he disappointingly searched for the faded mark he’d sucked deep into your skin only a week prior. It was like his eyes were boring holes into your body, and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment.
“What are you looking at?” You asked, hands flying up to cover the slight swell of your breasts resulting from the tightness of your corset. Then, all at once, the memory of his lips, suckling pretty rose-toned bruises into your skin, rushed through you once more. The way he caressed your skin so gently, so carefully as though he might break you apart, so unlike how you thought he’d be.
When you came to, it seemed like the third Prince knew what you were thinking about, too, as his signature smirk reappeared on his lips. In one swift movement, he pulled you up from your chair, spinning you around so quickly that when you finally landed on his lap, sitting sideways against his muscular thighs, you had absolutely no idea what had happened. You let out a shriek of surprise and grasped at the nearest available thing, Clavis’ gloved hand.
“A little eager, are we?” He chuckled darkly as he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing kisses along each of the digits and swirling his tongue around your fingertips. “How is it that you still taste so sweet, even when you’ve been poring over those books?” The sensation of his tongue had you praying that he would lavish you with the same attention elsewhere, and before you could stop it, a soft moan slipped from your lips. You felt his mouth form into a smirk against your hand, and he let your hand slip from his as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as he began to unlace your corset.
“Play with me a little, hm? I’ll be worth your time,” he whispered, trailing his lips from your bare shoulder to the now-exposed swell of your breasts, nipping gently at your skin in his wake. Your hand grasped desperately at Clavis’ arm as he trailed his tongue down your chest, lavishing the taste of your peaks against his mouth. It was heaven for him, being so close to you like this. This was what he wanted since he first laid eyes on you in the town square, skin glistening and eyes sparkling with determination as you protected that boy from the drunkard. It was captivating, and he found himself captivated by you, again and again, each day.
Your hips began wriggling desperately against his muscular thigh, every part of your body seeking the friction that would satisfy that deep ache in your core, the one that you couldn’t fix yourself ever since you crossed that line in your friendship. A deep groan rumbled from his throat when he noticed your fervent rutting and ripped off his gloves, eager to feel the wetness against his fingers. As his hands made their way underneath your ruffled skirt, his eyes widened momentarily, realizing that you weren’t wearing anything underneath your dress.
“Naughty, naughty girl,” he murmured, trailing one finger along your core, mouth practically watering at the pool of slick that had gathered along his hands with just one touch. “So wet and eager for me, hm?”
Your face had turned a deep shade of crimson at his lustful words, and as much as you wanted to deny it, he was right. There was a part of you that was waiting for him to find you, to show you that it wasn’t just a one-time thing. But hell would freeze over before you gave in that easily. “N—no, I just… I forgot…” You trailed off, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder.
Even that made you all the more endearing to Clavis, and he once again trailed his finger along the seam of your wet core, smirking as you trembled against his body. “Girls that lie don’t get rewarded, Belle,” he whispered, tongue trailing against the shell of your earlobe as you jolted once more against him. Again, the way his fingers would ghost over that spot you needed him most, missing deliberately, once, twice, and on the third pass, you gave in.
“Please, Clavis, i—it wasn’t an accident. I need you,” you begged, eyes widening in shock as his free hand gripped your chin firmly and turned your face towards him, those beautiful golden eyes gazing into the most vulnerable parts of you as he held your gaze with such intensity you thanked the heavens that you were already sitting, as your knees immediately turned weak.
And there was no way he could deny you when you were begging so sweetly, not when your desire was covering the fabric of his pants and your eyes were so hazy with desire he could reach his own climax from the sight alone. “Good girl,” he murmured, slipping one finger into your needy cunt with ease and capturing your lips into a messy, wet kiss as he swallowed your moans. His fingers thrust against your core, coaxing relentless noises out of you that you were sure to regret when you came back to your senses. Your body was overheating, and that familiar, fluttery sensation deep within your belly was starting to roar to life once more.
And with a sudden shift of his fingers, he found that spot deep within your core, that spot that had you crying out in ecstasy against him, rutting against his fingers again and again until your slick had thoroughly soaked through any remaining layers between the two of you. His hand gently cradled your head, pressing kisses against your lips and caressing your hair until you came down from your high.
Once your vision refocused, you shifted and looked down at the stain you’d left on his pants, absolutely mortified with what you’d caused. You were sure the Prince was never going to let you live it down – likely making you act as his personal maid for three weeks at least. “I—I’m so sorry, Clavis, I’ll wash those for you right away,” you stammered, about to get up from your spot on his lap when he forcefully grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him once more and whispering something that would seal your fate for the rest of the night.
“And where do you think you’re going, Belle? I didn’t say I was done playing with you.”
#ikeprince clavis#ikepri#ikepri smut#ikepri fic#ikemen prince smut#ikemen prince#clavis lelouch#clavis smut#clavis x reader
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hi! I don't know if you also write for Ikeprince but I wanted to make a request on Chevalier as a father?
Characters: Chevalier Michel x Reader
Rating: General.
Word count: 1568 words
Warning/s: None. Having kids. Pregnancy.
Author note: I'm a simp for Chevalier, so this hc's got out of hand and its kinda long, in this essay I will---
The announcement
This man is inexperienced in some stuff, but he is not an idiot. He immediately knew when you were feeling under the weather before you could blink, sending the royal physician to check on you when you started waking up later than usual, complaining about the soreness on your body and the stomach cramps
At first, he thought it was due to the stress you were under as the Queen Consort, and he contemplated putting more work on his plate to help you along while you recovered.
But then the physician came running to him after checking in on you, bowing deeply before him, out of breath as he apologized over and over for interrupting the meeting with his faction.
“Her Majesty The Queen is expecting.” Were the words spoken before Chevalier could ask what such a display was about.
There was a heavy silence in the room then. That was broken by Luke asking “Eh? Does she have visitors?”
Followed by Clavis laughing his lungs out.
Followed by the foxy glances of Nokto after a minute of shock.
“Tsk.” He clicked his tongue, annoyed at the idiotic reactions as he stood up, cape fluttering behind him as he exited the room with long strides to hurry to the bedroom.
You were there, processing the news, standing before the full-length mirror to see the changes in you, despite they were minimal and barely visible, even under the eye of an expert.
In silence, he approached after closing the door behind him. The air in the room turned heavy with uncertainty as he made his way to you.
“Chevalier--I…” words died in your throat, not knowing what to say.
“Quiet,” he commanded, laying a heavy, yet gentle hand on your shoulder that made you feel comforted by the warmth that spread all over your body. “Come sit and read with me.”
Despite all the work put aside, he sat down, taking you with him and holding you on his lap with a gentle embrace, the palm of his hand resting on your belly, and yours laid over his.
During the pregnancy
You bet Chevalier takes a break from romance novels just so he can read about children and parenting in general (please let it be books about it Cybird I beg you)
You are under the watchful eye of every servant and soldier, having them come to you for every and any of your needs. After all, that’s the firstborn of The King you are carrying.
Yet you still insist on taking on your duties as Queen as you’d normally do, just with a little more support that your multiple brothers-in-law granted you to make it possible for you to have time to rest and take it easy.
Chevalier has it rough, not getting a wink of sleep during the nights, worrying more about the enemies that might be lurking in the shadows to harm you and your child, or about your morning sickness.
As King and Queen, you’d have days where you won’t see each other until night fell, but Chevalier moves mountains just so he can get his work done with you sitting next to him, or preferably, on his lap.
You also bet he has his sword pointed at Clavis at all times while he makes him dismantle all of his artifacts for pranks that could cause you harm even if they are not intended. If you have an accident and Clavis is in a mile radius his head won’t be attached to his body.
He doesn’t show it, but he is truly worried every time he spends a busy day all on his own without time to check in on you.
You have a little argument over names one day. For some reason, and taking you by surprise, he lists a lot of girl names.
Oh, remember that Clavis dismantled his stuff? Yeah, he forgot one thing that is supposed to jump-scare Yves in the kitchen whenever he would be baking
The thing is, it did jumpscare Yves…when you and he decided it’d be great to bake something together. It was his scream of terror that jump scared you so bad that your water broke.
Chaos ensued. Yves was panicking and you…not so much. There was not as much liquid as you’d imagine there would be, but it was enough that your gown stained.
The first ones to come to aid at Yves’ scream were Rio, who also threw himself into a panic fit about the baby about to be born, and Licht, who happened to be as calm as you were. Thankfully Licht helped you walk out of the kitchen. While Rio and Yves were consoling each other, hurrying to see what to do to help, calling for your maids to help you.
Your maids were prepared and they rushed to prepare the room you’d be giving birth in, notifying the physician and midwives so they could come as soon as possible.
With all the scandals in the kitchen, people might have or have not forgotten to notify someone else, the news reaching Sariel first who dutifully smacked some sense into Rio before heading to the King and announcing the news.
Chevalier immediately dropped all of his work, “Take care of it.”, he told Sariel as he exited the room to meet you, leaving all of his work of the day in the hands of the minister.
Thankfully, your contractions were barely starting when he made it to your side, and you had already been stripped from your gown into more comfortable robes.
Chevalier knew you were strong, but he never put your strength to the test until he held your hand during labor, clenching his jaw to avoid showing his pain because you definitely were about to break his fingers.
He holds you, with an arm around your shoulder so he is close to your body, enough for you to feel him breathe behind you, helping you control your own ragged breathing by trying to match his.
Your birth was private, with only the necessary staff to take care of you, but behind the locked door, there was a sea of people holding their breath, listening to your wailing…and the silence that came after, followed by a tiny cry.
Having a tiny human
Solana Michel is named the first princess of Rhodolite to be born in a long time, after a long tradition of all boys in a family.
You took the opportunity to rest from your duties in order to take care of Solana yourself, despite a lot of the female staff insisting you shouldn't. Which was met with an “are you serious?” look from your part.
As for Chevalier, he is still a busy man, but this time he decides to rely more on his brothers and their talents to take some weight off his shoulder so he can spend more family time with you, still taking care of the most important matters that require him.
He is not great with kids (this is canon btw), so the first time he held his daughter, she started crying, making him tense all over before handing her back to you to soothe her.
It takes some more tries, but the result is the same, Solana always starts bawling her lungs out the moment he holds her.
He is annoyed, more with himself at how bad he is dealing with his own child.
The one time Solana didn’t cry was when you were bathing after putting her to sleep in the crib. Chevalier sat close to it, reading as usual, with the quiet rain outside as background noise. Until it started thundering.
Needless to say, Solana started bawling at the loud noise outside, making him turn to look at her and consider calling you or one of the nannies to care for her.
Chevalier was still frustrated about his own daughter not liking him, and you taking care of most of her needs, and he didn’t exactly want anyone else to do it.
He sighs heavily, prepared for the baby girl to cry her loudest once he holds her, but once she is in his arms her sobs quiet down.
Good thing you aren’t in the room because you’d be able to see the face of pure shock this man has.
The baby quiets down, and he does what he read once in all of those parenting books he decided to read: he hums a lullaby he has heard you sing to her and rocks her softly so she drifts back to sleep.
You go out the bathroom only to be greeted with the sight of him, sitting comfortably with an open book in his hand and the other holding your daughter -who is now sleeping soundly- on his chest. He only gives you a soft look once he notices you are standing there.
Once you are dressed for bed, you offer to take her so you can move her to the crib.
“No. I’ll take care of her.”
Half an hour later he joins you in bed, careful of the small baby in his arms. This man doesn’t show it but he is elated and won’t let go of Solana, so that night she sleeps between the two of you.
He definitely reads to her, and he personally teaches her how to read and write as soon as she is old enough, that way the three can share a pastime.
Chevalier doesn’t tell you yet, but he wants to go for a second and maybe a third *wink wink*
#chevalier michel#chevalier x reader#ikemen series#cybird#ikemen prince#ikepri chevalier#ikepri fic#ikepri fanfiction#ikepri chevalier x reader#chevalier michel x reader#cybird ikemen#cybird otome#ikepri
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let's bury our face in the ground.
Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 1.6k
Tags: just dialogues, just explorations
Summary:
Everybody knows that Nokto Klein is a harlot.
It's not a public secret—they've seen him go through multiple women casually. They all know his history each time he flirts on their lap.
It's probably just endearing, seeing someone throw himself at you. Like watching a performance. And you can't resist because he is a good character. An excellent thespian. He immerses you to the stage and forgets you about the audience, and you only see the light that frames his figure, and his voice, and his eyes looking at you.
It's nothing niche, it's a common play. So, when it comes to them, why does he keeps it a secret?—
Is a question only for Adam's drunken mind.
"Because it's obvious why," he said.
Points, towards the palace rooftop. His movements gotten a little bit more sloppy. "Because that ledge is perfect for birds to perch on, and by nature their droppings just go… basically everywhere."
Nokto spins the rose wine in his glass. He’s keeping it light tonight. He looks warm and stunning and his head isn't thinking of many things. "That doesn't tell me why it's just my window that's getting it all the time."
"Trust me, it's just the birds. I can tell when someone is cursed and not cursed."
Although, it's quite hard now to see faces. Rhodolite's palace garden is way dimmer, and quieter, that the ball guests hang about there more than the ballroom. It's the infamous Rose garden, after all. It's the subtle romance. Quiet and soft voices are heard easily here. There's no music to cover one's head. The princes could rest more easily and spend the ball more casually. They eat and talk to themselves and play cards. Over one corner Adam and one Prince Nokto sat on one of the many benches, and they've set an artificial distance.
It's an unspoken agreement. Almost reflexive. Instinctual. Its causes are ingrained and sewn onto his skin since little.
Someone should just sit between them so the space doesn't feel so out of place.
"I'm actually worried that you're such an expert on this," the prince says as he leans down to pick up the mostly-finished bottle from the table. "Curses should be one other thing you teach me about." He tilts the bottle like he's about to drink it.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what're you doing? That's way too much for you."
"It's for you~ first and foremost."
Adam groans. Nokto pours a clumsy one into his retired glass.
"I'm too sleepy to get properly drunk." Adam begrudgingly accepts his round. "It's just going to doze me out eventually."
"What does that even mean, properly drunk?" He had finished the bottle and he is now starting to, giggle. "I don't think you even know anything about it."
"I can guarantee you, you don't 'wanna' know either." Despite himself, he sips. "I can get, hmm, grossly out of character."
"That's very sexy."
Adam grumbles as he tosses up his glass. Suddenly the music in the distance changes its course. The chatter around them briefly stop. It's clear that the dance is about to start.
People began to head back inside. Only little remains in the garden.
"You wanna go in?" Nokto pokes him.
"What are we doing?"
"Pull some ladies into the dance floor, who knows."
Adam knows, that in this state, he's prone to getting himself upset over the smallest things. Some of the most insignificant things. And right now he might just be about to get upset over… Nokto.
It's obvious why they'll always keep it a secret. Even within the family. It's because he is a bad look on the prince. Quite possibly the worst look. And he is going to tank the prince's entire frivolous career.
It's because Nokto doesn't even like him.
"You go on ahead."
Nokto stares for a little bit. He hears Prince Yves calling before standing up to leave.
One by one, Adam watches other people leave the garden.
At first, he tries reading the wine labels. Plucking dry leaves. He folds a stray sheet of card about eight times. He opens and straightens it up. Irons it with his fingers. He ruins another card.
It's the alcohol. It's making him so mortifying he wants to throw up. Imagine if he joins Prince Nokto and they dance a little number, and he is being seen with him just once, and he is proud of it because they don't care about the world, or the audience, or of being the talk of the entire ballroom, because it's just the light framing his figure and his eyes looking at—
He wants to fit himself underneath that gazebo.
His heart is burning bad, like his gut acid is about to come up. There's only one roll of cigarettes left on his box. He'd honestly be skilled if he manages to roll another one. He fishes it out to hold it in his lips. He grazes his lighter underneath it. And he drags in the warmth from it into his chest-
"Adam. On second thought, I think you had the right idea."
Adam coughs out the smoke out of Nokto's direction.
"I got the what idea?" And how did he even manage to sneak up on him?
"I also feel too sleepy tonight." Nokto shrugs his whole arm. "I can slack off on some nights, right?"
"Oh." Adam uses his wine glass as an ashtray. "No one is stopping you. Good night, then."
"Hold there."
Nokto steps into the bench again. Little did Adam realise Nokto was just going to rest his back down against him.
"Tsk, hey!" He scolds. He feels the armrest digging into his side, and Nokto's weight on one shoulder. "This is not even remotely comfortable."
"Not with that attitude it isn't."
Adam sighs, he disgracefully rests his torso over the armrest, the corners digging into the underneath of his arm. His cigarette touching the ground under his fingers. They're a pile of wasted out people. It's all over the place. It's not pleasing on the eyes.
It feels like love.
"I want to know more about how it's like being cursed," Nokto said.
This is what it feels like being cursed.
"The droppings, they're your brother's doing. Why even wonder?" Adam hooks his other arm around Nokto. "There's no curse."
"Hmm, no, I don't want the Clavis explanation. That's way too easy. What about the esoteric ones?"
"I have—no explanation that can satisfy you."
Groan. Arm is getting dead. Nokto doesn't want to get up. They shifted positions—the armrest digs into his neck instead.
"Ugh. Nokto… what is this about. Really. I don't know what's going on. I can't read minds, much less yours."
Nokto weighs on his chest and abdomen. "You tell me."
Adam pushes himself and Nokto off lest he's giving himself an injury. "And I can't understand what you're saying!"
It's the first time tonight, that Adam had actually seen his eyes. The crimson is difficult to see in the dark. It's almost a dull grey. Nokto is staring earnestly, something he's very good at doing, while looking very annoyed at the same time.
Adam lays his words out with his hands. "Listen, just, tell me, what you want to tell me."
"I screwed up."
Adam twists his brows. "Uhh, did something happen?"
Brief moment of exasperation. "Noo, I admit that I screwed up with you. And that you might be really, really mad at me."
Adam lags. He tries rewinding it all back in his head and winces and shakes his head. "Wait… wait, what?"
"It's alright. Look, I'm right in front of you now. You can lay it on me. Lay it all on me."
"No. No no no, you got it all wrong. I am not mad at you. And I don't want to 'lay' anything out. I don't know where you got this idea-"
"Listen. Fighting with you is, on the very bottom of my list tonight." Nokto shakes his head. "I just want to hear you out. You can tell the truth. So let me hear it!"
Adam sighs.
"Okay. I'm not mad, not at you for anything. I'm just… drunk, and I got myself upset."
"What does- and what does that mean?"
Adam covers his face. "It means, it just happens. And it doesn't mean anything."
Nokto scowls. Folds his arms together. "... I don't think that's how that works."
Adam laughs. What does he want him to say? "And how do you reckon it works?"
Nokto starts again. "If… let's say I believe you, for now, that we're good. Can you at least, tell me what you want us to do right now?"
Now? Let's… let's lay down somewhere else instead. Somewhere less painful. Preferably, softer—
"I don't know."
"I want to keep talking with you, but I ruined it."
And let's sleep on each other. Let's sleep on this bench, that's fine too. Let's kiss around other people—
"If you're wondering what to do, I'd guess you're way more needed in the ballroom."
"Needed? No, I'm far from needed there. Is this what it's all about?"
And let's… dance in the ballroom, like idiots. Like freaks. Let's get booed off the stage and get some rocks thrown and rubbish flung. Let's offend the court's society. Let's sit beside each other during meetings!
"It's not."
"Adam, just spill it out, tell me. Tell me what you want me to do!"
Let's just get… this profound shame out of me.
"Let's tell your brothers about us."
Nokto blinks. His eyes are dull grey in the dark.
..
Everybody knows that Nokto Klein is a harlot.
#ikepri fic#ikepri adam#ikepri oc#ikepri nokto#All this shit meanwhile the other princes are like 'yeah we been knew'
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"Don't worry. It's just me."
⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, Yandere!Rio, NONCON, somnophilia, choking, unprotected sex. Fem!MC
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.
#ikemen prince#ikepri#rio ortiz#ikemen prince x reader#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikemen prince smut#.noncon#cw;smut🍋#rio ikemen prince#ikemen prince rio#yandere fanfiction#yandere ikemen prince#yandere x reader#yandere#fem!reader#ikeprince rio#ikepri rio#yandere noncon#yandere fic#cw;yandere❤️
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SUMMARY: You and Gilbert make Christmas cookies together!!
WARNINGS: none!! :D
COMMENTS: @vioisgoinginsane & @vivislosingitagain this is for you two ^^ i hope i did him justice i REALLY hope i did him justice. presenting my gilbert content to vio feels like showing a mediocre grilled cheese to a master chef.
“You do know what denying my gracious invitation would mean, don’t you little rabbit? Or have you already forgotten?”
You had not forgotten. And you will no sooner forgive him for putting you in this frilly black apron.
Something about marking you as his? As far as you were concerned, it was typical Gilbert talk and you were far better off not questioning his whims even if you grumbled about them a little bit.
He always lets you get away with a little bit.
At least he seemed happy, helping you tie the little bow on the apron to keep it in place, standing behind you when you rolled out the cookie dough and guiding the rolling pin with his hands, and even when he nearly took a chunk out of your cheek (his biting habit had not taken on the Christmas spirit and shown you mercy, it seems.)
Despite all of his distractions, you managed to successfully roll out the dough and select a few cookie cutters. Gilbert seemed fond of the animal shapes (you tried very hard not to roll your eyes as he pressed a rabbit shaped cookie cutter into the dough.)
“Say, little rabbit...” Gilbert giggles, “Would you mind feeding me some of the cookie dough?”
You turn to him with a raised brow, giving him your most deadpanned look.
“You’re going to get sick.” you say dryly, pressing a snowflake cookie cutter into the dough.
“It would be a shame if anything happened to—”
“I get it, I get it. Open wide.”
Gilbert looks way too satisfied with himself as you grab a nearby spoon, collecting some excess cough dough on its surface before you lift it to the prince’s mouth.
He shuts it.
You raise your eyebrow at him again, but he just tsks.
“With your hands, little rabbit.” he beams, a challenging look in his eye.
He’s so needy.
You don’t say that out loud.
What you do do is scoop the cookie dough onto your finger and hold it out to him.
Sure enough, he takes your fingertip into his mouth and nibbles on it, maintaining eye contact with you throughout the whole exchange.
You feel like your face is hotter than the preheated oven when he pulls away.
“See, that wasn’t that hard, now was it?” he tilts his head, the smuggest grin on his face.
It was very hard. And he knows it. That’s why he looks so smug.
But at the end of the day, you can’t find it in your heart to resent him for it. Even when he asks you to feed him frosting when you’re trying to decorate the cookies or when he puts an absurd amount of sprinkles on the rabbit cookies he decided to make.
If anything, it’s cute. Charming, even. And you know he knows you think that because no matter how hard you try, he always knows what you’re thinking.
It’s infuriating, but you’d like to think you’re coping with it well.
“Open up, little rabbit.” Gilbert beams, his face far too close to yours.
He’s offering you one of his rabbit cookies. This would be perfectly acceptable (if not a little threatening) if it wasn't for his mouth, which he'd wrapped around the rabbit's feet, his casual smile making your heart skip multiple beats.
He’s doing it again.
“You seem to think that cookie is delicious enough. I wouldn’t want to steal it from you.” you reply hastily, turning your back on him.
You nearly jump out of your skin when he whirls around to block your path, eyes narrowed as if he’s cornered you for sure.
Which, to be fair, he definitely has.
You sigh and rub your temples, mentally preparing yourself for what you're about to do. It's for the kingdom, you rationalize, taking a deep breath before you lean in. You recite some silent apologies to the poor rabbit as your teeth bite through its neck.
You chew. You swallow. You hum in satisfaction. Despite the method by which the cookie was delivered to you, it was rather tasty.
Gilbert finishes off the rest of the cookie in one bite, staring straight at you all the while. You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that when he licks his lips clean of frosting.
“Little rabbit...” he croons, dragging out the last syllable of his silly nickname for you, “You’re staring.”
“Gilbert,” you regard him bluntly, “You’re teasing.”
He’s such a nightmare, you think. He’s such a horror and a disaster of a man, he’s so dangerous and cruel but when he made those silly rabbit cookies you didn’t feel like any of those things were true.
And based on the glimmer in Gilbert’s eye, he knows.
#auburn's fics <3#auburn talks ikepri <3#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri gilbert#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri gilbert x reader#ikepri gilbert fluff#ikemen prince gilbert#gilbert von obsidian x reader#gilbert von obsidian fluff
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Hello!
Congrats for the milestone, and cheers to many more!! :D
If the requests are still open... Could I ask for Clavis + Blind Date + Crack Fic?
Thank you in advance and congrats once more! 🙈
Sorry it has taken me so long to answer this and thank you so much for the ask and the support. Without further ado, here we are with some more Clavis crack! I hope you enjoy!
A Blind Date...Literally
“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Emma murmured to herself as she stood at the entrance to the local tavern. “But those gifts and letters seemed genuine and heartfelt…I guess I should at least see who my secret admirer is.”
Emma did have to admit that it was a bit exciting and very flattering. She had come with the intentions of letting whoever it was down easy. She didn’t really have time for such things right now, being Belle and all. She barely managed to squeeze in time for this meeting, the way Sariel had been working her and the way she’d been meeting with all of the princes… Clavis especially keeping her on her toes.
Emma opened the door and walked inside, heading to the bar as the letter had instructed. The barkeep smiled at her. “You must be Emma?”
“Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting someone…”
The barkeep nodded and gave her a sheepish smile. “He’s waiting in the private room for you.” He explained. “And uh…well he asked me to give you this. Said you should put it on before going inside.”
Emma took the object the barkeep held out and looked at it. It was just a black scrap of cloth. “What in the world am I supposed to do with this?”
“It’s a blindfold.” The barkeep said. “Your mystery man said something about…uh…a blind date.”
Emma blinked. “What…” It was then that she recalled a conversation she’d had in the palace just a few days ago when she had asked for leave to attend a friend from town’s wedding. The friend had met her groom on a blind date. Emma had told this to Sariel, Rio, and Clavis. “He wouldn’t…” She murmured.
“You want me to tell him you changed your mind?” The barkeep asked.
Emma sighed. “No. I’ll go.” She said, heading to the back room of the tavern. She stood outside the door a moment, looking down at the blindfold in her hands. She debated internally for quite some time before finally sighing. “Ugh…I can’t believe he’s getting me to go along with his stupid plans once again…” She muttered putting on the blindfold before feeling for the doorknob and letting herself in.
“Ah, there you are.” The familiar voice said. “I knew you’d come,..or at least I hope it’s you, Emma.”
“Wait, how do you not know?” Emma asked.
Clavis chuckled. “I’m blindfolded, too.” He answered.
“How do you know I’m wearing mine?” Emma asked.
“I heard you fumbling for the doorknob.” Clavis answered. “Also, I know you. You wanted to have some fun and this sounded like fun.”
Emma sighed. “You know, blind date isn’t usually so…literal.”
“I know, but it wouldn’t really be a blind date in the traditional sense because we already know each other.” Clavis explained.
Emma could hear the sound of a chair scraping the floor. She then heard movement and soon a couple of footsteps before Clavis let out an, “Oof…” as something smacked loudly against something else.
“Clavis…?”
“I’m…alright.” Clavis replied. Footsteps, this time slower and what sounded like hands moving over everything. It was moments later Emma felt a hand on her arm.
“That had better be you, Clavis.” She said, her tone slightly irritated.
“I promise it is me.” Clavis replied, his hand sliding down her arm and taking her hand. “Now allow me to help you to your seat.”
“I can’t believe I’m still going along with this.” Emma muttered with a sigh.
Emma could hear and feel Clavis moving next to her and soon his hand was bringing hers up and she soon felt it resting in the crook of his elbow. She reached out with her free hand, trying to find anything she could use to help feel her way through the darkness. With the way Clavis had stumbled to her, she couldn’t depend on him to safely lead her to her chair…and she was right.
The pair stumbled their way to the table. They knew when they had reached the table when they both collided with it. “Ow…Clavis, we should just take these off…”
“Now, now where would the fun be in that?” Clavis replied. “Come, have a seat.” Emma could hear the sound of Clavis fumbling before a chair was scraping across the floor.
Emma sighed once again and reached her hand out, feeling for the chair. Once she was certain of the chair’s position, Emma cautiously began to lower herself onto the cushion.
Clavis reached a hand out, intending to place it on her back as a helpful guide…but landing a bit too low.
“Clavis, that is NOT my back.” Emma scolded.
“My apologies.” Clavis replied, not at all sounding apologetic.
“I swear if you’re not actually wearing a blindfold…”
Emma was interrupted by the feel of Clavis’s hand on hers and the sensation of her hand being picked up until her fingertips were resting on his face. He guided her fingers over his face, allowing her to get a feel of his chin, cheek, nose, and then the gentle silk that rested over his eyes.
“Well…okay…But if you do something like that again, I am taking mine off and treating you to the famous Belle slap.”
“That’s tempting.” Clavis replied and Emma could hear the grin in his voice, seeing it clearly in her mind’s eye.
Once Emma had been seated, Clavis felt his way around the table before going to his seat. Moments later a waiter was bringing in food and drink.
“It’s Cyran, isn’t it?” Emma asked.
“Yes, it is me, my lady.” Cyran spoke. “None of the actual waiters wanted to go along with Clavis’s plan.”
“Some people are just afraid of trying something new.” Clavis replied.
Cyran was leaning down to whisper in Emma’s ear. “If you want out of this at any point, just say the word and I’ll come in here and get you out.”
“Thank you, Cyran.” Emma replied, a genuine smile coming to her face.
Clavis frowned. “Alright, alright. Now come let us have some fun.” He declared. “And I promise this will be a good time.”
“I just know I’m going to end up with something on me…or injured.” Emma replied.
“I would never allow harm to come to my lady. I am a gentleman afterall.” Clavis retorted.
Emma could hear Cyran leaving, but she was aware of his presence outside the door. “So, what is this all about, Clavis?” Emma asked.
“You’ve been working so hard, I thought you deserved a reward.” Clavis replied. “All work and no play…”
Emma sighed. “Alright…so is this food from the tavern or…”
“My creations, of course.” Clavis replied, very proud and confident.
Emma sighed. “Well…at least I won’t be able to see how terrible it looks.” She muttered. She was then feeling at the table in front of her, looking for her cutlery and plate. She could hear the sounds of Clavis doing the same.
It took Emma a moment to get her bearings…and there were a few dropped bites of food, but she managed.
“Oh dear…another one…” Clavis muttered.
“Are you dropping your food?” Emma asked.
“It is a bit harder to adjust than I thought.” Clavis admitted.
Emma laughed and shook her head. “We could just…”
“No, we will get through this. There are plenty of people who are blind from birth and they manage just fine.” Clavis replied.
“You do have a point.” Emma replied. “But they’ve had more time to adjust.”
“We’ll be fine.” CLavis replied. “New experiences are fun. Besides are you not the one who was talking about how romantic blind dates are?”
Emma sighed. “I can’t win with you can I?”
“Oh, of course you are winning with me.” Clavis replied.
The pair continued their meal, keeping a light conversation going. After a bit Emma heard more movement and what sounded like people entering the room. The next thing she knew, music was being played.
“Ah, right on time.” Clavis said, clapping his gloved hands together.
“Right on time for what?” Emma asked.
“For us to share a dance, of course.” Clavis replied and Emma could picture the gleeful grin on his face.
“Oh…Clavis…no…”
Clavis was already getting up and following the sound of Emma’s voice to stand in front of her. He held out his hand. “Come now, we can’t have a date without a dance.”
Emma sighed. “Alright…” She was then reaching out, trying to find Clavis’s hand…what neither of them realized is that his back was to her and her hand ended up grasping his butt.
“Oh my, this Belle is very forward.” Clavis said with a laugh.
Emma felt her cheeks heating up. She bet money that Clavis could be able to see the glow even through his blindfold. “Clavis, you idiot…you’re the one with your back to me.”
Clavis was laughing as he turned, his hand finding Emma’s. “Now, now no need to be shy.” He said as he pulled her to her feet.
“Just for that I am not apologizing for stepping on your toes.” Emma replied.
Clavis pulled Emma close, his hand going to rest on her waist…well attempting to and brushing against her bust instead.
“Clavis…”
“Dearie me, we keep having these problems.” Clavis replied, once again not sounding at all apologetic. “I will do better, I swear. I am a gentleman.”
“Gentleman my ass.” Emma muttered, grabbing Clavis’s hand and guiding it to her waist. “And no that was not an invitation.”
Clavis chuckled as he slowly began to move them along in the dance. “Now you’ve nothing to worry about. I really am a gentleman.” He told her.”I swear my hands will not go anywhere they shouldn’t…on purpose.”
Emma laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible.”
The pair seemed to move relatively well together. There was a bit of stumbling…and Emma did step on Clavis’s toes a few times…only one time was on purpose.
“Aren’t you having fun?” Clavis asked.
“Okay, maybe this is a little fun.” Emma replied. “Though I would step on your toes less if we took these ridiculous blindfolds off.”
“You keep bringing up taking them off, do you really miss seeing my handsome face that much?”
“As if.” Emma scoffed. “I just…”
Before Emma could finish her sentence, the pair were colliding with the table and began to fall. Emma felt Clavis move his arms around her waist and shift them so that he would land on the bottom and break her fall…of course the table tumbled as well and the food and drinks all landed on Emma as she was on top.
Emma pushed herself up, her hand going to remove the blindfold as she looked down at Clavis who had let out an “Oof…” at their landing
“I was trying to avoid this,” Emma said, glaring at Clavis as he reached up to take off his blindfold.
Clavis gave her a playful pout. “Not even asking if I’m alright and after I took the brunt of the fall.”
“A fall we wouldn’t have had if you had not done this ridiculous idea in the first place.” Emma pointed out. “And look at my dress…you deserve a bruised backside and…” Emma stopped mid rant as she became aware of the devilish grin on Clavis’s face. “What?”
“You still haven’t gotten up, which means you must enjoy being close to me like this.” Clavis replied, gesturing to her body still lying on top of his.
Emma smacked his chest. “Oh you…” She said, her cheeks red as she pushed herself up. She then sighed as she reached her hand out to Clavis. “Here, let me help you up.”
Clavis smiled. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms.”
Emma rolled her eyes, but the look was betrayed by her smiling lips. Somehow she always managed to have fun with Clavis…but she would never admit it.
#whimsey answers#300 follower celebration#ikepri#ikepri clavis#clavis lelouch#clavis crack#cybird#ikemen clavis#ikemen prince#fanfic#crack#blind date trope#crack fic#ikemen series#cybird otome#fanfiction#otome boys
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🎊Happy birthday Chevalier🎊
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri fanart#ikepri chevalier#ikemen prince chevalier#ikepri chevalier michel#ikemen prince chevalier michel#chevalier michel#i went with jst once again🥲#I have so many things i want to reblog after today and i can't wait to read my tags😭💖#This is my comeback from semi hiatus state because i missed the writing and art of many people and friends😌💗#a huge 'I'm sorry' to my friends for the reblogs tomorrow😂 I've seen some Halloween fics around here too👀#happy birthday chevalier!
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Fanfiction
Be Still, My Queen (NSFW)
Tempting the Beast (NSFW)
Making the Morning Worthwhile (NSFW)
Marking You as Mine (NSFW)
Adorably Awkward
Want A Bite?
A Hundred Thousand Roses (NSFW)
My Queen
A Crown for Your King (NSFW)
The Tiger Cares
The Glasses Stay On (NSFW)
Pas de Deux
The King's Command
Just a Dream
Just Another Day
Crash Into Me (NSFW)
A Rare Treat
Torment (NSFW)
Stay
Season of Change
The Queen's Command
What a Difference a Year Makes
Kiss From a Rose
She is Mine
Twist of Fate
Read to Me
Happily Ever After
The Morning After (NSFW)
More Than Words
Take My Breath Away (NSFW)
My Yellow Rose
It Was You
No Regrets
Finally (NSFW)
Chasing Fireflies
In Your Eyes
His Human Heart
Chats
A Trip to Wonderland (IkeRev x IkePri)
The One Where Belle Invites the Suitors to a Picnic (Licht, Gilbert, Sariel, Clavis, Chevalier, Jin)
Headcanons
What kind of undies do the princes wear? (Act 1 Suitors)
Women's Lingerie - Do they wear it and what would they wear? (ALL)
Suitors react when MC gifts them a plushie of their crest animal - Part 1 (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke)
Suitors React to a Sick MC - Part 1 (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke, Sariel)
Jealous Princes - Part 1 (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke, Rio)
Suitors Reaction to Finding a Toy in Your Room (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke, Rio, Gilbert)
Children's Books (Chevalier, Clavis)
Dream Wedding (Chevalier, Gilbert)
Grocery Shopping (Chevalier, Gilbert)
MC Reacts to Fight with Suitor (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Luke)
Kisses (Gilbert, Keith, Silvio)
Suitors as Vampires Biting MC for the First Time (Chevalier, Gilbert, Keith, Silvio)
Suitors React to Finding Out Belle is Pregnant (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Jin, LIcht, Sariel)
Chevalier Michel with a Lovey Dovey MC
Taking Suitor's Gloves Off (Gilbert, Rio, Chevalier)
How the Suitors React to an Unexperienced Belle (Chevalier, Clavis, Nokto, Jin)
Suitors Reactions to an MC Who Gets Lost Easily (Yves, Nokto, Chevalier, Clavis)
Suitors Reactions to Attending a Baseball Game (Chevalier's Faction)
Suitors React to an MC with an Eating Disorder/Body Dysmorphia (Leon, Chevalier, Clavis)
#happy birthday chevalier#i normally reblog fics on bdays but i couldnt with this many#37 fics for anyone counting#ikemen prince#ikepri#chevalier michel#ikepri chevalier#ikemen fanfic
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[fic] Grading papers
Grading papers
Ikemen Prince | Part of Cybird University 'verse | Chevalier Michel x Reader | T | 905 words
ao3 link
Home slippers on, you pad towards the living room to discover Chevalier on the couch, reading glasses on, a paper on his hand and a stack of the same beside him, wearing the most remarkable frown you have ever seen in the entire time you’ve known him. The ends of his brows are so pulled down that you’re afraid that they’ll be stuck there permanently. Not that his scowling face is ugly, of course, but he’s just as beautiful if not more when smiling.
A/N: I mentioned this once before, but I wanted to write a self-indulgent college/university AU for ikeseries. It's just going to be a low-stakes writing exercise, to de-stress from the major fic projects (i.e., novelist AU, ocean water fic, Kanetsugu fic). Reader will always be (unless indicated) of unspecified gender. I will write for other characters too, when the mood strikes.
The first fic for this verse is, of course, about Chevalier 😂 I don't know how to write fluff; this is the extent of fluff I can write lmao. Also, sorry for the corniest ending – I didn't know how to end the fic lol
The apartment is quiet when you open the front door, dim but with enough light at the end of the hallway for you to see a pair of oxfords arranged neatly on the top of the shoe rack. A smile creeps onto your lips without your bidding, soft warmth spreading from your chest, which tempts you to just shake off your own shoes. You refrain from the urge, knowing that he wouldn’t be amused about it.
Home slippers on, you pad towards the living room to discover Chevalier on the couch, reading glasses on, a paper on his hand and a stack of the same beside him, wearing the most remarkable frown you have ever seen in the entire time you’ve known him. The ends of his brows are so pulled down that you’re afraid that they’ll be stuck there permanently. Not that his scowling face is ugly, of course, but he’s just as beautiful if not more when smiling.
You place your bag on the adjacent couch, your eyes never leaving him. “Is it their arguments this time?”
Chevalier doesn’t spare you a glance; he encircles something in the paper with the fountain pen you’d gifted him five years ago. You’d agonized over what to give him for his birthday at the time. Chevalier’s the sort of person who has everything, and you were desperate to make a good impression that you resorted to consulting Clavis of all people.
In the end, you decided on something elegant but useful.
“It’s obvious that this one didn’t read the assigned cases,” Chevalier says after a few moments. Then he immediately clicks his tongue and underlines a whole paragraph.
You peek into the paper, and have to suppress a wince. The margins are filled with comments, the body peppered with copyediting symbols – it’s a bloodbath. Silently you send a thought for the poor student who’ll receive that paper next week.
“Could’ve been worse,” you say, circling around the couch to approach him from behind. “They could’ve inserted another Please marry me after I graduate Professor in the essay. I still remember the exact moment Dean Sariel’s blood pressure rose.”
That had been an interesting week. Everyone in Chevalier’s department knows that despite his cold and ruthless personality, he’s still a popular professor in the university. Students have to fight each other to get a slot in his courses. His ice-prince reputation doesn’t deter them in the slightest. You suspect that some students fail his course on purpose to retake it next year. When asked about it, Chevalier would just glare, frown, and roll his eyes.
One had been bold enough to insert such sentence in their essay. You were there the moment Chevalier read the words. It was like watching a critical scene in slow motion: his eyebrows shooting up, eyes blinking twice before widening, glasses sliding down his nose, expression slack; then, as if flipping a switch, his face rippled into an offended scowl, storming out of the apartment and marching straight to the dean’s office. You’d been worrying over what he’d do, so you scrambled after him.
(The day Chevalier returned the papers, he made the class go through the most excruciating recitation known to man. Some didn’t survive, some returned a changed person; even today alumni and seniors still talk about That Incident in whispers, as if Chevalier has eyes and ears everywhere [which: possible].)
Chevalier ignores you and continues to grade the paper. In the years you’ve been together, you’re already used to his cold tendencies. Although he’s not an affectionate person, you can feel his love in other ways.
You press your hands on the backrest, flanking Chevalier’s head. “Why didn’t you ask your TAs to help you with grading?”
“There was no need. I can finish this tonight.”
Very efficient, very competent. Very grumpy. You grin at the crown of his head.
“If you need moral support –”
“I don’t.”
“– then I’m just here, at your beck and call.”
There’s a minuscule pause, fleeting, and if it wasn’t for your proximity you wouldn’t have noticed it. But you did, and that reassures you to proceed with your plan.
Your hands slide down to his shoulders, encircling him. Chevalier gives no indication of resistance or anything at all, so you press further, bending down to bring your face near his. Playfully, you say, “How about I give you a kiss on the cheek, for motivation?”
You tilt your head to do so, but in a surprise twist, Chevalier turns his head so your lips smack against his. You blink, caught off-guard. His eyes are bluer through the lens of his glasses, his forehead smooth and absent of creases.
He moves slightly for a better angle then closes his eyes, nibbles on your lower lip. When he retreats, Chevalier wears a look so smug you can’t do anything except to laugh helplessly and fondly.
“Did that motivate you?”
“Hardly. You just have to stay and keep trying.”
You grin at that, your heart brimming with such affection for this man. “Guess I should,” you say, unable to keep the softness and warmth in your voice.
Chevalier transfers the stack of papers to the coffee table as you settle beside him, leaning on his shoulder while he goes back to the essay. He snakes his free arm around you, pulling you firmly against him, and then it’s back to being quiet again.
Quiet, but warm.
⇼
Endnotes:
1. I wasn't able to include it in the fic, but you (reader-chan) work at the ministry of foreign affairs. You met some years ago because the ministry consulted Chevalier about something related to his expertise (he's a professor of International Relations, with specialization in int'l law). You worked directly with Chevalier, and the sincerity and diligence with which you conduct your work had made an impression on him.
2. Chevalier currently supervises three graduate students, one of whom Clavis annoys regularly.
3. Once, Chevalier crossed swords with Professor Kenshin from the history department (they're both kendo/fencing enthusiasts). It was the talk of the campus for a whole month. It even made the front page of the student newspaper.
4. After reading that please marry me professor essay, Chevalier stormed into Sariel's office and announced that he was going to fail a student for not taking his course seriously. Sariel had to convince Chevalier that there's a better way to handle the matter; thus, The Recitation Incident came to be.
5. You and Chevalier have been living together for three years now.
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri fic#ikemen prince chevalier#ikepri chevalier#chevalier michel x reader#ikepri x reader#ikepri chevalier x reader#fic#my fic#cybird university verse#megane chevalier agenda
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Silly Little Prank [Clavis x Reader][Smut][Ikemen Prince]
Characters ↬ Clavis Lelouch x AFAB Reader
Rating ↬ E [Smut]
Tags ↬ Cunningulus, Clavis calls reader “Good Girl.”
Description ↬ How were you supposed to know that you’d get knocked out after trying to save Yves from another one of Clavis’ pranks? Not only that, but the orchestrator of the prank would willingly offer himself up to be your personal butler, waiting on you hand and foot. It started out as an innocent gesture to redeem himself (as innocent as something from Clavis could be) but ended up in something purely sinful and beneficial to the both of you…
Disclaimer ↬ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.
Wordcount ↬ 2k
Tag List ↬ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady
Please fill out this form if you'd like to be included on my tag list.
It had been around two weeks since the palace doctors forced you to your bed, concern for your wellbeing evident on their faces, furrowed brows, and squinted eyes examining you for any signs of lasting damage. How you ended up getting into this predicament was simple, really. You’d inadvertently gotten in the middle of one of Clavis’ typical pranks on his younger brother, only to have things go disastrously wrong when the bucket of ice water landed right onto your head, knocking you unconscious for a few hours.
There was one plus side to this whole situation. The resident prankster himself was so guilt-ridden after seeing you lying unconscious in the hospital bed that he’d been immediately sworn to wait on you hand and foot. According to the maids and palace staff, he’d even shirked all his regular duties just so he could knock on your door at the crack of dawn to begin showering you with unnecessary gifts (out of good will, but annoying nonetheless). You even started letting your guard down around him, allowing him into your room right after you had your regular night time bathing routine, pretending not to notice the way his golden eyes would trail from your face, down to the supple curve of your neck, and then linger on the sliver of thigh that would peek out from the sheer material of your nightgown.
It was a mix of pure torture and heaven for Clavis. He couldn’t count how many times he had to subtly shift his briefs to conceal his raging hard-on after seeing how your nightgown hung delicately over your curves. Counting his lucky stars, he once had even seen how the nubs of your chest had hardened underneath the soft fabric, poking through due to the chill in the room. It took every last ounce of his willpower to offer you his jacket rather than rip the nightgown off you and lavish your body with his tongue, over and over, until you were crying out from pleasure underneath him.
“Oh dearest Belle,” a familiar teasing voice called out from beyond the door before landing three sharp raps against the wooden frame. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for our little nighttime routine?” And though, at this point, you had let him into your room countless times, a tiny part of him still wondered if this would be the day you’d reject him.
“Clavis? How many times do I have to tell you I don’t need you to help me get ready for bed – it’s been three weeks, and the doctors said I’m perfectly fine two weeks ago!” You exclaimed, getting up and letting him in anyways despite your words. A part of you found it thrilling when the third Prince of Rhodolite would shower you with attention. There was a sexual charge between the two of you that was further bolstered by this game of cat and mouse you two played.
“Well, you can never be too careful; after all, I am the utmost gentleman and must make my wrongs right,” he retorted, smirking at you in all his mischievous wonder.
Clavis was dangerous. Everyone in the palace warned you about him. The third Prince was unpredictable, unreliable, and a nuisance at best. At worst, he could make your life a living hell. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to get to know him more. It didn’t stop you from examining every one of his beautiful, regal features, starting from his long purple lashes, framing the most stunning liquid gold eyes, down to that beauty mark that perfectly accentuated his lower lip. It was unfair, truly, how you were expected not to fall into his charms – especially when he was this captivating.
The Prince’s movements were nothing short of graceful, nearly predatory, as he sauntered over to where you sat on the bed. The height advantage allowed him to sneakily peer down the neckline of your gown, mouth widening into a grin as your corset pushed your chest into an almost uncomfortable position. “Whatever you need, Belle, consider me your personal butler, here to wait on you at your every beck and call.”
The heated undertone of his words didn’t fail to send a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you took a deep breath before getting up from the bed. “Well… I… guess I wouldn’t mind some help getting out of this dress – I don’t know why you royals insist on having corsets that require at least one other person to help you get them off.”
Before another word could even fall from your lips, you felt Clavis’ hands gently brush against the small of your back. His heated breath warmed up the curve of your neck as he slowly pulled on the ribbon that tied the boning together. With dexterity that only he could possess, he began unweaving the ribboning of your corset, taking the utmost care not to hurt you in the process, massaging any sore muscles through the fabric of your dress as he went. Your mind was hazy as you began imagining his hands rubbing elsewhere, unshackled by the barrier of your clothing. A soft moan slipped from your lips as he leaned in closer, needing to focus on a particularly difficult spot, and both of you immediately stiffened.
Moments went by of pure, charged sexual tension, and then you heard him shift and clear his throat. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke again, and you swore even that was causing you to become unbearably turned on. “And your request is now complete. Can I assist you with anything else, madame?”
Another few moments passed by, a million thoughts racing through your brain. You wanted him. Your body wanted him. That was clear, with the way your panties were soaked just from a few minutes of gentle, innocent grazes of his hand against your back. And you knew it was wrong, taking advantage of this situation, but he did offer to help you out with everything.
Clavis watched, lips quirked up as you battled your inner voice of reason. He’d nearly lost all semblance of logic a moment ago when that heavenly moan escaped from your lips. It was odd how strong of a hold you had on him. Truly, he had the most innocent of intentions when he offered himself to be your personal butler after his silly little prank; he really did. But now, with your breasts heaving, pupils dilated as you turned to look up at him with that look that screamed you wanted him to take you, his resolve was crumbling away piece by piece.
“I’ve had some really sore muscles lately… I don’t think it’d be the worst thing if you… helped me out with that,” you mumbled, voice dropping down to a near whisper with the last word.
“And your wish is my command,” he murmured before gently sliding the sleeves off your dress, exposing the skin of your shoulders. Then, he paused, as though waiting for you to give him permission to continue undressing you. Then, after a quick nod, he continued sliding the fabric off of you, eyes darkening with heat as he took in every inch of your body, covered only by your dampened panties. His eyes were fixated on you for so long that you made a move to cover yourself, beginning to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, only to be stopped by him.
“Let’s get you into a more comfortable position,” he drawled, maneuvering you towards the bed and lowering you down onto the covers, face down. Then, with careful restraint, he began kneading at your shoulders, moving down inch by inch until his hands were on the small of your waist. The dampness seeping through your panties didn’t escape his sharp gaze, and he trailed one finger along the waistband of your undergarments. “May I? I need you to be the most relaxed and comfortable, so I can… make you feel good,” he chuckled, voice shooting straight to your core.
You gave another quick nod and thanked the stars that you didn’t have to look at, what you were sure, was a sinfully devious look on the Prince’s face. He lifted your hips up to slide the lacy material off you with ease, and you swore you could hear him lick his lips.
“You know, dearest Belle, I could’ve sworn you were a little minx these past few weeks, just for me. Teasing me, letting your hand linger a little too long on my arm, pressing up against me just too long when you’re reaching for something… but that couldn’t be, could it? Our little golden Belle, capable of no wrong, wouldn’t be trying to seduce the big bad wolf, would she?” His voice dripped with absolute sin as he continued now, kneading into the soft flesh of your rear, fingers skating by your throbbing core every few seconds. It was so close. Always so close, but at the last second, he would go back to rubbing your thighs or your lower back, never touching the area that felt like it was on fire.
Suddenly, a light but sharp smack landed squarely on your rear, causing you to jolt up and squeal with surprise. “Belle, I asked you a question – are you purposely trying to make me lose control?”
The tiniest shrivel of restraint in you knew that you should stop things there. Apologize and tell him that you didn’t want to take things to the next level. Despite how dangerous everyone made Clavis seem, he wouldn’t take things this far if you didn’t want to. You knew it was wrong, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. A feeble yes fell from your lips as you hid your face between your covers.
“Good girl,” he smirked. “Now, for telling the truth, why don’t I make you feel real good tonight?” Then, with the agility you’d never expect from him, he flipped your body over as though you weighed as light as a feather. One gloved finger trailed down the plane of your cheek, and his gaze was absolutely predatory as he lowered himself to your dripping core. “I’ll make it up to you for causing you all this trouble – though it seems like what you wanted all along was my attention anyways.”
His tongue trailed out from behind his lips, and he licked a stripe from the bottom of your cunt to the top, flicking the head of his tongue right at your sensitive peak. A strangled moan fell from your lips, and you arched up from the bed. “I’m going to need you to be a good girl and stay still,” he stated, words mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against your core and pushed down at your hips, keeping you from moving. He pursed his lips against your sensitive bud. He began lavishing it, using the tip of his tongue to trace gentle figure eights against you until you were sobbing in pleasure. The building feeling of pleasure was overwhelming, stronger than any release you’d ever had, and it seemed like he had no intention of stopping until you were cumming on his tongue.
“That’s it,” he murmured against your core, easing two gloved fingers into your eager and needy entrance. “Let go for me.” The slight stinging of his digits was reduced away by his tongue eagerly working against your bud, alternating between flicking and sucking. Then, he angled his fingers up until he found that spot he was looking for deep in your core, and you felt him smirk against you. It was unexpected, really, how quickly he’d manage to find that pleasurable spot within, but once he did he began to languidly coax your core with his fingers, golden eyes trained on you as you began gasping for breath, inching closer and closer to your release by the second.
Finally, with one last stroke, you felt your vision go white as blinding pleasure overtook your body, from your lower belly to the tips of your fingers and toes. “Nngh—Clavis!” You cried out, hips bucking from the bed so violently that all the Prince could do was hold onto your thighs and nuzzle himself even deeper between your legs. It felt like the pleasure was radiating through you for hours – though you were sure in real time it was minutes. Still, Clavis was relentless as he continued gently pressing against your sensitive bud, causing you to toe the line of overstimulation quickly.
“I—I can’t anymore--, Clavis! It’s too much! Please, I c—can’t take anymore!” You squealed, trying to press your hips deeper into the bed to escape his dexterous fingers and tongue.
“Mm… Well, since you begged so sweetly, I guess I’ll let you have a little break before you come on my tongue against,” he drawled, licking your juices off of his lips with his tongue.
And despite your better judgment, you let him bring you to release again, and again, and again, until the wee hours of the morning. If there was one thing you had to give to the mischievous Prince, he definitely knew what he was doing – and by the time you two were done, he had more than repaid his debt to you for that silly little prank.
fin.
#ikemen prince#ikeprince clavis#ikemen prince clavis#ikepri clavis#clavis lelouch#ikepri smut#ikepri clavis smut#ikepri fic#ikemen series#ikeprince#ikepri
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Can i request a licht x fem reader smut with lots of fluff please?
Candlelight
Pairing: Licht Klein x Fem!Reader
Rating: Mature (+18)
Word count: 3,415 words
Warning/s: Fluff and Smut, biting, oral sex (female receiving), a bit of soft femdom if you squint, creampie.
Notes: This took me literally months to write. Now I’m heading to sleep. Thanks to Nat, my dearest friend for the ideas and for giving me her opinions on this! I love you very much
The candle seemed to glow brighter now that your hands were linked together, but maybe it was your imagination or the growing darkness.
It had been a rainy night.
You tossed and turned, restless in bed; wishing your lover was beside you to at least have some comfort or a way to occupy yourself with other things.
Licht, sweet as he was, would probably be playing with your hair, sensing your discomfort and restlessness at the thunder and heavy rain outside and he would start singing a sweet melody for your ears only in hopes it would soothe you enough to sleep.
Yet you could only stare at the window, covered by heavy velvet curtains, hoping the storm would end as morning rose.
But nothing would happen if you were to only stay in bed and lament the absence of your sweetheart instead of doing something to fix it.
Determined, you reached for your night robe, tying it at the waist to prevent the cold of the night from sneaking into your body. And then, you reached for the matches, using one to light up the lonely candle you used to read late at night before sleeping.
The soft warm light was weak in comparison to the darkness, yet it was a welcome beacon once you walked out into the hallway.
Outside of the room was truly cold, and you clung to the chandelier, protecting the weak flame with your hand cupped close to it, preventing the cold air from blowing it off.
You walked with hurried, silent steps through the halls, determined to reach Licht's room in record time. You needed to just see him and stay with him until morning won you over.
Turning around a corner, you bumped into someone, being too focused on protecting the flame and still being careful enough to not trip with your own feet by how fast you were walking.
No one was supposed to be up at this hour, yet you found yourself trapped in someone’s arms, catching you before you fell and burned yourself with the hot wax that spilled.
“What are you doing outside this late at night?” You were being questioned, snapped out of your thoughts as you lifted your gaze to stare into a pair of lovely red eyes.
“I could ask the same.” You smiled, watching his gaze soften, even in the darkness.
His grip loosened, taking your hand in his and grabbing the chandelier in your hand to lead the way back to his room.
Strange.
The candle seemed to glow brighter now that your hands were linked together, but maybe it was your imagination or the growing darkness.
“I thought you might have trouble sleeping.” He said, in time as he squeezed your hand.
A soft smile curved your lips, seeing the hint of the same peaceful expression on his face, only slightly illuminated by the light as he guided you through the hall leading up to his room.
As he opened the door, he let you in first, closing the door behind him once the two of you were inside, placing the chandelier by his desk, while you opened the curtains to let in some of the moonlight to illuminate the room.
You watched the raindrops glide down the glass, casting a beautiful glint in the reflection of the moonlight.
Just as you were about to press the palm of your hand against the cold window, Licht called you. “Come to bed?”
Sure, the exhaustion you had felt while laying down in your bed was not present anymore, yet the cold made you want to seek shelter in the warm and fuzzy blankets of his bed and his body-heat against yours---his heat against—
You shook the intrusive thought out of your head, not wanting to think that right now as it was late into the night and your lessons the next day would not be forgiving, so you had to settle for snuggling with your lover.
So, after taking off your slippers and your night robe you crawled into bed with Licht, who was already waiting for you with open arms. Wrapping them around your form as you lay against his body.
His warmth immediately did wonders for you, but the sleep you yearned for didn’t come, so you kept your gaze focused on the candle's dancing flame.
Just as your eyelids grew heavier with each blink, sleep was cast away once more when Licht’s arms around your middle tightened, pressing you closer to his body.
“Are you okay?” You asked, turning your body to face him directly.
Instead of answering, Licht took advantage of the new position to bury his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling in your soft scent, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.
Sleep wasn’t an option now. Maybe he had planned it all along.
And you had the answer once you felt his lips graze your soft, sensitive skin, making you whimper at the sensation.
“Can we…”, he paused, leaving another kiss right on your pulse and making your heart jump inside your chest. “…please?”
His tiny, not-so-shy please was oh so sweet in your ears, that you didn’t know how in heaven would you be able to resist your lover’s attempt to have you this late at night.
It was then that you finally cupped his face in your hands as he pulled away from your neck. Licht licked his lips like a hungry wolf who was about to feast upon his prey, holding your gaze with his bright, red eyes.
You let him lean in, claiming your lips like the greatest prize, the kisses soft and passionate with hints of the burning passion that would be consuming you later.
Parting your lips slightly you let your tongues dance, letting yourself get lost in the feel of him so close to you, once you spread your legs to fit his body between them to get a small taste of how intimate it was to feel him so close.
When he pulled away to bury his face on your neck to litter your skin with kisses and love bites, you moaned out his name to the cold of the night.
“Say it again…” He muttered against your skin, licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to your jaw. “I like it when you say my name.”
You shuddered, feeling the contrast between his tongue's coldness and his breath's warmth against your skin.
“…Licht, oh! ---That tickles!”
He chuckled, deep and low, leaning down to kiss you, a chaste peck on your lips so different from the previous one, or the way he touched his way down your body until he reached the hem of your nightgown, lifting it so he could have more access to your legs.
And, of course, you couldn’t just stay put with what was burning deep inside you, tangling your hands in his hair, pulling softly on his silver locks, hands snaking down to unbutton his shirt in painfully slow motions as his lips and those kisses that left you breathless kept your head up in the clouds of pleasure.
Like a hungry wolf, he could barely resist himself, seeing your naked legs just taunting him, your skin so soft calling him to leave love bites and kisses, and right between your thighs that bewitched him to become a hungry beast.
Between his legs, it was starting to ache and throb with need, just by the memory of previous times when your warmth had encompassed him, a maddening sensation that made his head spin just at the remembrance of it.
Your messy kisses were accompanied by desperate hands trying to fiddle with your clothes without breaking contact until you grew desperate.
Licht was not helpful, squirming and moving away to try to kiss down your neck while he bared you from your nightgown, bunching it up around your waist, and lowering the top until your breasts were exposed to the cold air and vulnerable to his mouth.
You arched your back, moaning in delight at the feel of his warm mouth, giving up any resistance, if there were any. You wanted to surrender every little resistance, every little thing that could stand in the way of you and Licht.
Licht was eager, loving, yet desperate; rough calloused hands taking handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing, fondling. His lips left wet kisses, and on occasion, suckling hard on the peaks of your chest until you sang your pleasure out, his free hand toying with your unattended breast.
Moving his mouth, he decided to lay kisses between them, kissing a path down your sternum and toward your belly.
You squirmed, moving your hands to cup his face when he reached between your thighs to toy with your underwear, the tip of his rough fingers caressing where you yearned for him the most.
“N-No…” You whined as he kissed below your navel, clearly wanting to taste you with his mouth until your legs were quivering, a favorite activity of his whenever you were intimate.
And despite how much you loved it whenever he’d use his mouth on you, you wanted to feel him deep inside, and noticing how hard he was, enabled the primal desire in your brain of becoming one with him with little to no distance between your bodies.
Your protest fell on deaf ears. Licht continued his way down, pressing his wet mouth to your heat, blowing hot puffs of air against your cunt, making you shiver and whine. Your underwear soon was gone, offering no resistance so you could surrender your body to him.
Licht took his sweet time, kissing and biting the inner parts of your thighs, noticing your desperation clear in your face and the way you reached to tug at his silver hair.
He couldn’t help but smile a little, so proud of himself before he buried his face in your pussy, running his tongue along your slit and gently kissing your clit afterward. The way you moaned only fuelled his desire even further, wanting to tease you more and more just to hear you and taste more of you.
Meanwhile, you could be embarrassed by the way your body reached for his silver locks to tug at them to bring him closer to your core, legs lifting over his shoulders and trapping him between your thighs.
At this, Licht moaned against your heat, enjoying being trapped by your plush thighs to prevent him from focusing on anything else but the taste of you in his mouth as he continued to suckle and lick like a starved man.
Carelessly, you threw your head back against the soft pillows, feeling his tongue prodding at your hole before licking a long stripe back to your clit. The feeling of his mouth and hands clinging to your thighs drove you mad.
Trapped between your legs, he decided to gently press his hand against your thigh, spreading your legs open to give him more space, hand joining his mouth.
He rubbed his fingers against the slick of your folds, coating them before sliding one inside your welcoming entrance.
A mewl left your lips, arching your back and grinding your pussy against his mouth to pursue the mind-blowing pleasure that was building deep inside you. You felt like you couldn’t resist more.
Your toes curled and your eyes fluttered closed, chest heaving rapidly when he inserted a second finger, giving you a delicious stretch. You eagerly welcomed him, crying out when he focused on the spot he knew would have you crying out his name helplessly.
“Licht--!”, you mewled, tugging at his hair, thighs trembling and tensing at the imminent orgasm about to send you down into a spiral of pleasure.
Licht curled his fingers inside you, enjoying having more of your sweet essence oozing out as you came, velvety walls fluttering around his digits. He couldn’t help but moan against your sensitive core at the taste of you.
As you came down your high, he pulled away, leaving a trail of kisses on the inner face of your thighs, moving upward toward your belly and then your chest to finally hover over you, a lithe frame covering yours.
You saw him enjoying himself through half-lidded eyes as he licked his fingers clean, lips glistening with a mix of your essence and his saliva.
If you had a little shame at that moment you could have hidden your face, not believing the sight in front of you, but this was far from a new occurrence, as Licht often liked to indulge himself between your legs.
Yet, you were yearning for more, and surely he too was, his cock impossibly hard in the confines of his briefs. You reached toward him, hands hurrying to unbutton the rest of his shirt that you couldn’t manage to reach before, his own hands joining you to help you.
You wrapped your still trembling legs around his hips, finding strength within you to pull him close to you, earning a gasp of surprise from him.
“Please…” You begged, trying to sit up to wrap your arms around his neck, only managing to move enough to steal a pleading kiss from his lips. Licht was kind, too kind, wrapping his strong arms around you, setting his hands on the curve of your hips, and allowing you to settle your legs at his sides.
Despite the heavy look of desire, Licht smiled at you, his eyes glinting with both the candlelight and moonlight combined. “I love you.”
He said that every time, and every time it made your heart skip a beat, not tired of hearing him saying that with such sweetness in his eyes and voice, knowing he meant it.
You couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips, pulling him down for another heated kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to press your wet, awaiting heat against his hard cock.
He was not as clumsy as he was the first time, but the darkness didn’t help a bit, with only the candlelight to guide the touches you gave each other.
Yet, you took the opportunity to take him in your hand, lining him up to your entrance, leaking tip prodding against your throbbing hole. He thrust, slowly spreading you to the width of his cock, a helpless groan leaving his mouth at the feel of being encompassed by your walls.
He let his head fall against you, face buried against the crook of your neck in such a vulnerable position as he weakened and surrendered to the pleasure and warmth you provided him.
“Tell me what you want.”, you commanded, whispering in his ear while not allowing him to push himself inside yet by moving your hand and pressing your palm against his abdomen. “I want to give it to you…”
Licht continued to pepper kissing along the sensitive skin of your neck and clavicles, groaning when your walls contracted around him, and unable to form a proper sentence to reply to you but the weak moan of your name.
“Tell me…I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.” You insisted, rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder blade and making him shudder.
Licht had to fight the hungry wolf inside him, not wanting to take you like a beast, despite you showed no resistance before, your mere touches made him weak to your will and command. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t like how you took control.
He kissed up your neck to finally reach your lips, once more and not wanting to part. “I want you. Please, I want you.”
You giggled, hearing the desperation in his voice, feeling it even in his hungry kisses. “Then go on, Licht, take me.”
With no hesitation and nothing else stopping him, he thrust inside, making you gasp in pleasure at how he buried himself to the hilt, spreading you nicely around his cock, until there was no room between your bodies.
You clung to his shoulders, the tips of your fingers burying in his rough, scarred skin as he picked a slow pace with deep thrusts, him focusing on your reactions to know what you wanted the most.
The loud squelch between your bodies was obscene, getting louder and louder the faster he moved, not caring if your love was heard outside the room. You didn’t care any bit.
There was nothing more in your minds than the brain-melting pleasure of your bodies fitting together perfectly, of the pace and the feel of him filling you to the brim, of your bodies embracing each other.
Your fingernails raked down his back as you clung to him for dear life, leaving faint red marks on his already marred skin, grinding your body against his to match his pace and send you spiraling into the ecstasy you so much desired.
Your mewls, growing louder and louder, your hands clinging to him, and your legs tightening around his waist felt like a reward for him, having learned that this was nothing but the best feeling in the world that you both could share.
Looking into your half-lidded eyes, he focused solely on you, on how your walls contracted, squeezing him and then letting him go, over and over, and Licht had to summon all of his willpower to not spent himself right then and there, not when you were at the peak of pleasure.
Another kiss brought his attention back to you, open-mouthed kisses were shared, wet with thin ribbons of saliva connecting your lips for seconds and hot puffs of air against each other’s faces as the two sang in mutual pleasure.
“You make me feel so good~” you purred, reassuring him that everything he was doing felt like heaven to you, “Make me cum, please…”
His pants and soft growls vibrated against your lips as your eyes rolled back. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft thighs locked around his solid torso starting to tremble as your orgasm approached when his frame pinned yours down.
Continuing to drag your fingers down his back, clawing at him like you were slipping from sanity. His hair tickled your face as he dove down to kiss your neck, leaving an occasional bite in his wake.
The wet slap of skin embarrassing to even hear, if you had cared at the moment, yet you couldn’t stop as he pulled himself out of you, leaving but the tip inside, just to slap every last inch back into you. Sending you over the edge before you even realized what was happening.
You writhed and shook under him, robbed of any coherent thought. It made you feel like the feeling of cloud nine was never-ending.
Toes curled as you drew him down closer to you, your pussy fluttering around him as he refused to let up on the pace he had set. Fucking you right through what could only feel like one of the hardest orgasms you’d had.
With his name on your lips, you shook and trembled as he didn’t let go of you, fucking you through your orgasm until he reached his own.
His hips stilled, teeth digging into the soft flesh of your neck to stifle the helpless moan that escaped his lips, burying his length inside you as his thick seed spilled.
Still feeling the aftershocks of your high, you and Licht panted, limbs weak and barely able to hold on for much longer.
Licht sighed, trying to calm his erratic breath, too tired to think of anything else but to hold you with your skin against and the promise of sleep until late morning if possible.
Watching your chest rise and fall, teary, tired eyes looking at him; he smiled in return, bending down to steal a last kiss for the night, admiring the glint of sweat on your skin.
And despite he wanted to admire you, and how your bodies looked together, you could barely keep your eyes open anymore, exhaustion finally dragging you to the sweet slumber you wanted from the start.
Licht could be content with admiring you in the morning, he told himself as he ran the tip of his finger down the soft skin of your cheek, still smiling at how full his heart was with you.
The flame of the candle flicked, catching the attention of both of you; he turned his head, blowing it off for the night and going back to the darkness, yet, this time he had you in his arms. Not needing a flame or light to keep each other warm as you finally lay next to each other.
#cybird ikemen#ikepri fic#ikepri fanfiction#licht klein#licht x reader#ikepri licht#ikepri licht x reader#licht klein x reader#ikepri smut#ikemen prince#cybird otome#ikemen series#cybird fanfic
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Dirty Deeds done Dirt Cheap
Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Silvio Ricci, Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 4k
Tags: profanities, lots and lots of profanities, suggestive scenes
Summary:
Dangerous business are best dealt in public. Dangerous games are best played without feelings attached.
Notes: This fic is a whole menace. Anyway, it's supposedly for @voltage-vixen and @xxsycamore Summer of Smut 0.3 event, for the 'bar flirting to one night stand' prompt. There's no smut here though.
This fic references a plot point that happened in Nokto's route, inspired by Silvio's bday story, and also was written before Silvio's route release.
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It's feverish.
Ringing, in his ears, like standing amidst the summer heat waves, every single time he hears the sound of his voice.
He is the only person here who Silvio Ricci could stand. However, he is also absolutely sick of that guy.
Nokto Klein. The Seventh Prince is the main representative between Rhodolite and Benitoite's alliance. Felt like they've been friends for a long time, even if they'd be better described as acquaintances. Without him, Silvio doubted he'd have any interest in helping the neighbouring nation, since Klein's other kin proved to be some strange and difficult people to work with.
Klein is that sort of man, who'd value himself as cheap as dirt for a gain. A wild card. Trying to appraise him is a waste of time. Over the years that they've known each other, Silvio found that the more he found Nokto Klein fascinating to be with, the more he developed an allergic reaction.
On one hand he couldn't wait to spend some personal time with him whenever he visits Rhodolite, on the other, he's fucking dying.
"I think it's the only place in the capital worth your visit, at least for a simple drink," the noble standing across Silvio said. Rhodolite's Palace is buzzing with aimless chatter, and this guy's been advertising this place like a goddamn salesman. He's nice and all, and surprisingly quick-witted for someone that doesn't speak Benitoitian fluently, or much at all.
'It's a staple. And… they have all the kinds of people you'd be happy to meet with.'
Words made background noise. He was a marquis of some odd corner of Rhodolite, whatever. Silvio never saw him until recently.
The only thing that made him listen, was Klein sitting on a couch near him.
'Better save the date, just in case you'd like to,' —
The prince was dressed casually, letting that long hair down. He was barely participating in their conversation; chatting, instead, with a noblewoman in his arms. It was Silvio of Benitoite's birthday celebration ball but all the women invited gravitated towards him instead.
It's not like Silvio gives a fuck, actually. All the better that way. Nobody to lose him his focus.
"So if you want-"
"Alright-alright, I hear you," Silvio waved the marquis off. "Saturdays, nine 'til twelve PM, special event. It's not like I didn't recognise the place already."
The marquis smiled. "You won't regret it."
Silvio exhaled a long breath. The dark skinned man left the circle, walking with—Silvio observed—a cane that supported his slight limp. He tapped Klein's shoulder as he passed by, the prince reacting by touching his arm and twisting his body to face him. Telling him something.
For the rest of the night, Klein did not speak to him. There's a part in Silvio's gut that tried to nudge his suspicion alive, but he missed it. He's missing something.
.
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The number one tavern in all of Rhodolite was famous for dimming its lights and opening its doors wide during the weekends. Some well-known musicians would then play on their little stage for the entire night. This often brings a different sort of crowd. Foreigners, out of town visitors, some enthusiasts, probably. People that wouldn't recognise the 7th Prince much. Well, ideally anyway.
This was why Nokto Klein made sure that guy would be there; this exact day, this exact time. No margin of error.
The batwing doors clattered open as Nokto stepped inside the warm scented building, out of the cold summer night outside. It was deafeningly loud with singing and bouncy folk music. Most seats were taken, and the owner was currently whipping back and forth serving the bar. Everyone was enjoying themselves. The usual scene.
He scanned the room with careful eyes, stretching a sprained shoulder, preparing himself. This will be a scene, alright.
Peeking towards the entrance of the tavern while pretending to be occupied by his drink, was the Prince of Benitoite. He watched that guy come in—with his usual coat hanging by his shoulders, that weird-ass haircut and the pretty face—feeling the familiar inexplicable sense of dread.
He'd be surprised by this coincidence, if not for the exact day, and the exact time.
.
●◉◎◈◎◉●
.
A horse galloped through the hunting woods. The riders escaping the threat with several scratches. It could've been worse, way way worse. But still, it's the thought that counts.
"Hey it's only a matter of time, really," the prince said, catching his breath. He rode on top of the same horse with a friend, who held the actual reins with one hand. His own steed had been struck by a rain of arrows and the arm that couldn't steer the mare had been bleeding from the very beginning of conflict. "Messing around with these guys, someone would've murdered us at some point."
"Shut up." The marquis urged the poor horse to gallop faster even with the weight of two grown injured men. "We barely got out alive, it's not even over yet. Leave your stupid attempts at lightening the mood behind."
"Damn, way to kill it completely."
They managed to get away from an ambush, leaving some of the prince's more heavily armed brothers behind to deal with the rest of their assailant's soldiers.
At least, they thought they did, before an explosion startled them both and the galloping mare to death.
She reared in fear and frustration, throwing them off to the ground like a discarded ragdoll. She almost stepped on the marquis' body before running away leaving them behind.
Nokto crawled frantically towards the man. Cursing loudly towards the sky. "Adam! the hell was that sound!?"
"Ugh, it sounded like… artillery."
They both twisted around to look behind, where everyone else would still be fighting. Feeling all the blood draining off their faces. At least, the amount that was still left.
Several days ago, Nokto had ruined someone's life.
A snitch had tipped him about some Benitoitian merchants' dealings, particularly some ill disguised large amounts of weapons, most noticeably some foreign manufactured firearms. It is in Rhodolite's interest to track the trades of these things very carefully, because Obsidian just across was practically salivating for a nip of world domination, and they are the folks that know how to use these things effectively, using their large number of soldiers.
Nokto's suspicion was that Benitoite deals arms with Obsidian. An outright violation of their pact of alliance with Rhodolite, right below literally helping the empire invade Rhodolite from the eastern front, if he's being perfectly honest. But the bastards wouldn't admit ever having any business with Obsidian, and they are technically not lying.
The merchants' clients are mostly made of Benitoitian bourgeois and nobilities. They keep their identities strictly confidential. However, Clavis, heavens and hells knows how, had found some information of some of the clients having a history of being Obsidianite in origin, and in loyalty.
Nokto decided to directly confront the merchant's stooges and threaten the deal out of them. He practically stole someone's package out of the supply.
With some help, through some risky, desperate, near-death measures of course, but he wouldn't go into it.
Apparently one client, a Benitoitian nobleman in name, found out about Nokto stealing the deal—so much for client confidentiality—and tried to kill him for it. Apparently the guy had some sucking up to do to his 'glorious homeland' of Obsidian, and Nokto had ruined his plans. All is well in the land.
Except not completely, yet.
.
●◉◎◈◎◉●
.
Over the tavern's small lights, two pairs of eyes met across the crowd. Crimson, and ocean blue. The rose approaching rapidly past the sea of people.
The Benitoitian tsked. "It's you, of course. I should've known."
"Evening." Nokto smirked, and upon glaring down the person sitting on the stool next to the Benitoitian prince, he secured the seat as his own. He faced towards the prince again, "What, did someone tell you to be here or something?"
Silvio rolled his eyes, pouring another shot of bourbon into his glass. This is the last thing he wants to deal with. Klein. Walking in here bringing some beef. He could tell from that look. He had a feeling.
He preferred their relationship to be cordial, at minimum. Less castigating at most.
Nokto leaned on the stool, ordering his usual. The other prince sneered at him from the side.
"Chosen a public place to do this, huh." Silvio picked up his glass absentmindedly, watching his drink swirl in his hand, face tied taut into the middle of his brows. "Get right to it then, fox. What's this all about?"
Nokto landed on the stool. The owner slammed his cocktail right in front of him, spilling the ice out of the glass, before running somewhere else to serve whoever else's drinks.
"Business," Nokto started. His eyes watching his own reflection on the liquid.
Silvio eyed him closely. Across the prince's cheek, from the tip of his lips approaching his ear, there was a clear scar healing from a shallow cut. Silvio didn't notice it the last time he'd seen him.
"It's my day off, mate." Silvio sipped his drink. "You want a good deal, you stay off of a man's drink."
"Nonsense. You did business on your own birthday." Nokto spun on his seat, facing him straight ahead. "And I'll give you a heads up—you'll not be buying anything from me, anyway."
"Yeah yeah," he waved his hand, "I don't need to hear it from you that Rhodolite can't offer anything worthwhile."
He was starting to spout words out of his mouth unrestricted. Agitated, tense, feverish. It's unlike him. Something tells him the fox chose this environment for a reason.
He couldn't catch Nokto's movements—in a split second the prince produced something from his coat's pocket and a loud metallic clang resounded as he slammed it on top of the bar.
He leaned in to whisper, "Familiar with this… product?"
Upon lifting his hand, Nokto revealed some model of… a flintlock muzzleloader pistol.
Silvio whistled. "Nice loot, that." He grazed his fingers across its barrel. A wider cylinder; credits it as something the Orientals manufactured.
Something Benitoite imports, rather than something Obsidian would've made.
"What about it, gonna pawn it off for some change?"
"It's good stuff isn't it. You have one of these at home, don't you?" the fox grins.
Goosebumps ran through the hair of his arms. Glancing around the tavern, Silvio realised nobody was paying any attention to this display of weaponry. Everyone was too busy with their own fun. He glared heavily towards the prince's piercing eyes.
"Sure. Its something we carry from across the atlantic. Just a tip for ya, it's effective when you point it at someone."
"Oh, I don't need this loaded, your Highness." Nokto frowned. He picked up the pistol, pointed it towards the ceiling. "This thing was merely stolen."
Silvio squinted his eyes. "Yeah?"
"From one of your associates. You must've met my friend already, the… marquis."
"Huh," Silvio replied, racking his brain for some clue. "That cocksucker with a limp?"
"That one." Nokto's eyes twitched. Just barely. "He's the one who got it from me. Can't imagine it, huh? Him, against your sort of stooges."
"Ahh, I see now," Silvio nodded, then slammed his fist on the counter in realisation. Pointed his finger at the prince. "He's your bitch isn't he? What, some Benitoitian kicked him in the nuts or something? Wanna be a nice pimp and take it up to me? Unfortunately, I don't hold responsibility for each individual fucker that sells you things." He pointed towards the door with his thumb. "So if you must, go kick up dirt somewhere else, princess."
Nokto laughed. "Fortunately he's perfectly unharmed in this process. It's your guys that got, metaphorically, 'kicked-in-the-nuts.' Pussies got all up in arms over it and all it benefited them is this pathetic cut." Nokto waved a hand over his scar, leaning closer to Silvio for another whisper. "That 'nobleman' is being humiliated in Rhodolite's jail right now. If I were you, I wouldn't show my face anywhere near the King Highness anymore. And you still have the audacity to hold your damn birthday here."
"... A noble?"
"Yes, your noble. Ever heard the name… Herren von Zollern?"
Silvio's eyes widened. He caught himself averting his eyes for a second. Luckily, he reeled it back right towards the prince.
"I see. I understand now." Silvio bowed his head. His face darkened. "This… Mr. Ambassador here, thinks this is some big political issue worth my time, when all it is, is a severe case of you fucking around and finding out!"
In a fit of passion, Silvio rose up from his seat, almost spitting onto the prince's face.
"Bah, someone who has no control nor awareness over their own court members is barely worth my time," Nokto shrugged. "You know why I'm talking to you right now? Efficiency. If it were up to me, I would have preferred to have this with your brother. Someone more civilised."
Silvio yanked the prince by his collar and lifted him up to his face. The bastard knows what he's playing with. The mention of his brother will strike a cord. Why is he provoking? Why's he deliberately doing this?
Why, is he doing this, to me.
"Fuck you. Go get your fucking boyfriend to suck my dick instead then."
Nokto grinned. "Don't worry. Catch me outside and I'll suck it off for you."
Crashes and clangs heard all over the building as the Prince Nokto got shoved onto the proceeding row of stools. The whole tavern cheered over the sudden display of violence, overpowering even the music. A shrill of laughter was heard on top of it all, and Silvio glanced down to find it coming from the prince. He gritted his teeth and nailed his fists shut.
Several men bursted through the door, pushing their way through the excited crowd in order to kick their asses out. Nokto saw them approaching and pushed himself to stand, reaching up to swipe his pistol off the bar. He looked back towards Silvio. "You want me or those guys to take care of you?"
Silvio snarled and dragged the seventh Prince up to his feet by his collar, pushing against the crowd towards the back door of the tavern, throwing—the Rhodolitian Prince as well as himself—onto the door and breaking it open.
They stumble about onto a dark alleyway, dishevelled, looking around aimlessly hearing the shouts of the tavern bouncers. Getting their bearings, they both ran away in the same direction, like a bunch of city rats in the middle of the night.
.
●◉◎◈◎◉●
.
They ran and ran along the shaded streets of the sleeping town, until nothing could be heard anymore but bats' wings and distant screeches of stray cats. Silvio, slowing down to catch his breath, heard that he's still being followed by the fucker and shouted, "The fuck you actually want from me, shitface! Get right to the point or I'll stuff it!"
Nokto caught up to him, panting towards the ground while leaning his arm on a wall, slowly lifting up his head to face him.
"Cease any business with anyone associated with Obsidian, you dumbass. And keep psychopaths in your court to a minimum. What a mess…."
Silvio restrained himself from throwing the prince off again. They were both catching their breaths now, struggling to speak. Silvio paced around the alley they found themselves in until he landed on the wall on the other side.
"I'm not catering to your racist ass, bitch. We do business with whoever we want."
"Racist? That guy confessed to wanting to invade us for-" —Nokto gasped and exhaled, shrugging with his whole arm— "His 'glorious fatherland' or whatever the hell he was preaching."
"Ah-ah, don't bullshit me." Silvio cracked his neck. "His guys hurt your little boyfriend and you got your pantsies in a twist. Boo hoo. Go cry to your big brothers about it, don't take it out on me." He pushed himself off the wall and cornered Nokto down. Pointing a finger up his face. "Zollern, is an established Benitoitian house, and the merchants he deals with trusted them. That's the end of their fuckin' business. Whoever you're messing around with is your problem."
Nokto chuckled. "Hah, unlike you I got no issues with my brothers. They're already keeping him in jail, dickwad." He straightened himself up. "I should remind you if you keep letting your merchants do whatever they want, Obsidian will start and they're not going to stop at our borders. You better not get too cozy in your little boat because that shit is sinking."
Silvio grunted loudly in exasperation, rolling his eyes so hard he circled around the alley and finally pinned Nokto lazily to the wall. "Yeah? Well, didn't fuckin' ask for your opinion. Don't give a shit. Go yap about it to your mom."
"I fucked your dad last night."
Silvio paused.
He stared at the prince like he was a ghost and bursted out laughing like a maniac—so indecently that Nokto cringed hearing it resonating throughout the entire neighbourhood. It was so stupid. So goddamn stupid he joined in with his own horrendous chortle.
"That's- that's hilarious, foxfuck. You're a fuckin' hoot. A goddamn hoot is what you are." Silvio sighed while pacing around, wiping tears off his eyes. "I can't believe my life."
Nokto couldn't stop laughing either until it felt like he'd throw up from not breathing. "Ahh, God, I'm in pain. I've had enough beating this week alone to last me a while."
As he struggled for air he realised the other prince was watching him intently.
"What, what you looking at?" Nokto raised a brow. He didn't realise that, to Silvio, he was looking extremely uninhibited; genuinely entertained, smiling, laughing, none of that charade he keeps around people, and a touch deranged.
The simmer that's been cooling off inside Silvio's head, grows into a boil again.
He stomped towards the prince, grabbing him by the collar, again.
"What are you doing- why are you trying to mess me up huh? Answer."
He didn't yank him around as much this time. It was more of a desperate plea.
"What?"
"You… you-, this whole, thing." He gritted his teeth. "This whole back and forth, and then you looking at me like… —This whole fucking game you're playing! Why are you doing this to me?"
For a brief peaceful moment in time, the only thing that could be heard is their breathing, and the soft pounding in their chests.
"I…" Nokto opened his lips. "I can't get you to listen in any other way."
Silvio stared. His grip lessened.
"We're getting desperate, and I don't have much time. I barely delayed… another war, and it can't be held off forever. Benitoite has to listen for once!" said Nokto, still panting. "Do you realise how much of a broken record I've become? It's getting pathetic. And I can't let it slide anymore after what happened—meanwhile you're just-" Nokto shrugged his arms, given up on speaking. "Look. Besides. There's no one else in this world I could speak to this way without getting my head chopped off."
"Hah, it's not off the table. So it's true, you're just taking out your frustration on me 'cus you've been begging for attention?"
Nokto laughed like he's about to choke him out. "Sure…call it that way. I'm just making it a night you won't be able to forget."
Silvio frowned, visibly thinking. Both of them only continued to glare at each other.
"...Crazyass."
He let him go. Nokto stumbled onto the wall, holding some parts of his body while wincing.
There were questions left unanswered, and unsaid words crowding up the air. Their proximity hasn't decreased either. Silvio shook his head in disbelief.
He whispered. "Alright, so you trusted… that I would just- let you go here? Let it off after what you did, just like that?"
"Oh, come on. What am I, your valet? Have I disgraced you? You and I, we understand. We have something different between us."
Silvio's eyes widened. "And what's that?"
Nokto grinned. Silvio felt like he had said the wrong thing and had revealed too much of himself somehow.
Screw it, he doesn't have much fuel left in him to get mad. He cracked his head around in exasperation and tutted. He's not that fucking dumb.
"What, so you fool around with guys too, ha?" Silvio cocked his head.
"Oh sure… maybe on the weekends." Nokto rolled his eyes. "What you gonna do about it?"
Silvio was quite impressed. No hesitation. Bastard's got no shame. He squinted at him, scanned both of his eyes, unconsciously, to his lips, down his lean body and back. "Whad'ya think I'd do about it?"
"I don't know, you tell me." Nokto leaned his back more comfortably against the wall, crossing his arms. Watching Silvio, with knowing eyes, and the slight smile that curved each end of it.
Silvio dropped his elbow against the wall beside Nokto's head, casting a shadow on their faces. This man just won't relent on screwing him up further. And he thought the game's already up. "Fine, I get your appeal, pretty boy. I can see it. It's not pleasant but I can."
"Ohhh, you 'get' my appeal huh." Silvio didn't bother stopping his eyes from straying to Nokto's lips anymore. "You understand it very well."
The mocking laughter that came out of it was driving him crazy. He gripped the end of Nokto's chin. "But if I wasn't this drunk I'd still be kicking your ass further, alright? I don't care how pretty you are, I'd be adding some broken arms and, and legs and shit."
His voice faltered. Almost soft than intimidating.
"Right, right… 'course you will."
"You're the one that got up to me, spoke over my drinking time and made a scene, okay? Forget beheading. You should be thanking me I'm leaving you intact right now. We still have some dignity left here, as civil men."
"Oh I'm the one that made the scene, of course. It's me that's throwing people around out here. It's nice that we got that covered."
"Listen here, fox." His words ghosted Nokto's lips. The prince closed his eyes, as if surrendering himself to Silvio. Although, more likely, he thinks he'd already won. "My point is you got fuckin' guts, alright? And how's that, how can you tell?"
At first, Nokto had no clue what the hell he was talking about. Or at least, he pretended not to, before he started smiling to himself.
"Tell what?"
"Answer the question."
"I don't need to be able to tell." He briefly opened his eyes. "I still wouldn't be sure 'til you shove that tongue up in me."
Silvio stared strictly towards the other prince, boring a hole through his skull. In his frazzled head, Silvio thinks, it doesn't take any effort to shove his tongue up his mouth at this point anyway, so he fucking did it. His first taste caught Nokto's teeth and made him curse under his breath. Nokto out of nowhere gained the energy to shove him around, pinning him on the other side of the alley, lips still suffocating him and constantly stealing his breath.
Silvio never had anyone treat him like that. Much less a fellow man. His hand got hold of Nokto's hair. His heart was beating up to his ears and his body was ablaze. Their hands were already straying everywhere it could only hope to reach before.
"You're not actually drunk are you," Nokto breathed out. Lips well kissed. Silvio never… seen him like this either.
"You kidding? You didn't let me finish my damn bottle."
Some buttons were undone, somehow. He never caught him doing that. He felt Klein's hands graze his skin and he grunted into the crook of his neck.
"Alright, babe. That offer still stands."
"No, you-" Silvio finally caught one of the prince's hands. "You animal. Tch. I have to get you patched up first."
"Huh?"
Nokto stared incredulously, and Silvio didn't budge.
"Do you just want to ride this dick or do you want an actual conference to be held? If the latter I gotta keep you all intact."
.
●◉◎◈◎◉●
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Tl;dr Silvio insults nokto by calling him gay and a pussy and Nokto responds by sucking his dick. Love wins
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri fic#Ikepri fanfiction#Ikepri fanfic#Ikepri nokto#Ikepri Silvio#Ikepri Adam#I apologise for the gratuitous swearing#I can't help it
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no requests for #10?? a travesty!! can i get #10 with silvio? thanks!
A/N: Here you go anon!
@ikemen-writer you asked for #12 with Silvio so I combined your request with anon's here to get a soft and unsure + gentle, then deeper kiss with the Prince
Silvio x female Reader
WC: 2546
You’ve been to grand balls before. A ball in the Rhodolite palace is a glittering confection of gold and white, walls dripping with roses, guests dripping with jewels. But here in Benitoite, you are surrounded by smooth marbled floors of gray and white, silver chandeliers holding elegant taper candles, and guests in clothing made of expensive silks, thinner than the heavier satins and velvet of Rhodolite fashion. Your own gown is a diaphanous confection of pale pink shot through with glistening silver. A bejeweled red rose pin rests above your heart, a gift from King Leon and a sign of your new status as ambassador. Stepping through the double doors of the ballroom, your heart skips a beat as it takes in the sea of people already drinking from crystal flutes, tinkling with laughter and spinning across the dance floor, skirts floating in the air with every twirl. It is an impressive sight. And it is an overwhelming sight.
Every single doubt you’ve had about coming here, about taking on the responsibility Leon entrusted you with, about your own capability to handle what this job entails suddenly comes crashing down on you. Your lungs freeze within your chest, ambient sounds grow louder and mesh together, the lively language of Benitoite now stabbing your ears. How could you believe a simple woman like you, a bookstore clerk with no diplomatic experience, could take on the responsibility of handling diplomacy. Yes, you managed well with the Rhodolite princes but here, you are a fish out of water, at a disadvantage with the customs, the language, the folk, no matter how many books you’ve read. When a nobleman comes over, greeting you in the local language, rapid fire and unintelligible, you feel ill. You manage a weak nod of your head before making your way to the edge of the crowd, pressing your back against the white walls, wanting nothing more to press yourself into the cool stone and disappear.
I’m failing Leon. I’m failing Rhodolite.
You catch sight of the open double doors that lead out to the gardens and the paths that take you further, down to the docks. With the music throbbing in your head you slink your way through the dazzling crowd until you feel the cool breeze of escape, of freedom.
Just a few minutes, you tell yourself as you step outside. You’ll step away for just a few minutes. Just to gather your bearings.
Your silver slippers take you away from the bright ballroom and the noise and with every step you feel yourself torn. The cool air, the night sky, they ease the tight band that has taken hold of your lungs, allowing you to breathe without feeling constricted. But every step away is a step further from your job, from what you swore to Leon you could do. Strengthen the ties with your allies. Convince the king and queen to sign the new treaty of protection. Convince Prince Silvio to come stay at the palace as a sign of good faith and friendship between your nations. All of these important, if one is to believe the reports coming out of Obsidian, the rumblings of a gathering army and an uptick in weapon shipments.
Before you know it, you’ve passed the gardens and find your feet traveling over wooden boards. You’ve reached the palace docks. The larger royal vessels are all at home in Benitoite’s vast harbor. Here you find only the smaller vessels for the royal family's private use. You stop, taking in the sight of a small, streamlined sailboat on your left, bobbing in the calm, dark water. How would it feel to just…sail away from it all? Nothing but dark sea below and a sky full of stars above, leaving you floating somewhere in the eternity in between.
“This ain’t the ballroom.”
You gasp, turning at the sound of Silvio’s voice. He’s at the dock’s edge, watching you, hands on his hips, dressed in a suit of navy blue and glittering gold and cloud-white. With a confidence you don’t really have, you square your shoulders and smooth down the front of your gown. What did Clavis once tell you? Confidence is ninety-nine percent illusion and only one percent actual mettle. You can muster up one percent.
“I needed some air.”
“All the way out here?” He walks closer, the gold of his adorning jewelry jangling audibly in the light evening breeze.
He stops when he is standing in front of you and you turn away from him, not wanting him to guess your other secret, the other reason you are unsure you will be able to fulfill all of Leon’s expectations. Because somewhere along the way of arriving in Benitoite, of meeting the royals and nobles, and spending time with Silvio during city tours and accompanying him to royal engagements, you have fallen head over heels in love. Suddenly and unexpectedly and maybe even unfortunately. But you are drawn to the prince like a moth to a flame. Yes, he is frustrating and temperamental and materialistic and snotty and far too handsome for his own good. But he is also intelligent and funny and honest and thoughtful and you , against all odds and all reason, have fallen hard.
He can’t know. It would be terrible for so many reasons. So you keep your gaze on the sailboat, breathing in slowly to calm your skittish heart.
You feel his gaze on you, the silence at his unanswered questions curling around both of you until Silvio snaps it, stopping it before it can choke you.
“C’mon.” And then his hand is wrapped around yours and he’s pulling you towards the boat. You stop when the tips of your slippers kiss the edge of the dock, looking at the gap of dark water between it and the boat. Silvio releases your hand and with a graceful leap, lands on the boat’s deck with the agility of a skilled sailor. He disappears a moment, only to return with a wooden board which he slides forward until it is resting on the dock, then places one midnight-colored boot on the end and holds out his hand.
“C’mon. You got this.”
It’s only a few steps but the black water looks ominous, lapping at the sides of the boat like it wants to come aboard too. Silvio makes an impatient motion with his hand, his gaze searching yours in the silvery wash of moonlight.
“I said you got this, woman. Now come here.”
And you do. You lift your skirts and one step after the other make your way across the plank until you feel the secure clasp of his fingers around your wrist. He pulls you towards him and for a moment, you are pressed against his tall body, breathing in the scent of the sea and something else.. something exotic and alluring, salt and spice.
He releases you as if stung, turning sharply and busying himself with pulling the board back onto the boat. Your wrist is imprinted with the feel of his strong fingers and a part of you aches at the loss of his touch.
He motions for you to follow him as he makes his way to the bow of the ship.
“Oh…..” It’s more a sigh than a word as you look forward, across the open expanse of sea that the sailboat faces, seemingly ready at any moment to push off from the dock and go bravely forth across that endless stretch of gently rolling water. The argent moonlight twinkles across the water’s surface, more breathtaking than any jewel in the ballroom. Your fingers wrap around the steel railing as you lean forward, feeling the way the fetters of insecurity and worry and anxiety snap.
“Knew this would work.”
Silvio is watching you, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smile on his attractive face. He steps a bit closer, gesturing towards the water. “I never found a problem the sea couldn’t fix.”
Something akin to shame dims the newfound light in your eyes, drops your gaze to the deck.
“I didn’t know it was that obvious…..” Your voice feels small, especially out here.
He shrugs his shoulder. “You left that ballroom…..not quite like a bat outta hell, but definitely like someone who didn’t wanna fucking be there.”
That gets a small, mirthless laugh out of you. “Truer words…..” You sigh now, turning back to the water. “I’ve had a wonderful time here. You and your family have been the most generous hosts but…..I don’t know if I am made for this. Benitoite is our ally but what happens when I have to travel to Jade or another foreign country that isn’t so friendly? I don’t know if I can handle the pressure.”
Silvio joins you now at the railing. You feel the soft material of his jacket against your bare arm and swallow at the contact, telling your heart to rein itself in. It’s only silk. (Silk that’s touching his skin, your heart whispers in reply. Silk that’s warm from his body…..)
He doesn’t speak and you can hear the faint music from the ballroom floating through the air. After a few moments of quieted melody accompanied by the sounds of the gently lapping water, he breaks the silence.
“The way I see it, either way you’re right.”
You glance at him. “How so?”
“You tell yourself, you can’t, then you can’t. You tell yourself you can, then you can.”
“If only it were that simple.”
“It is. And besides,” he says as he shifts his stance, turning to face you. “I ain’t seen anythin’ yet that convinces me you can’t do whatever you damn well want to.”
Something warm and fizzy corkscrews its way through you at his words, your stomach turning in excited, dizzying circles.
“You really think that about me?”
He looks away so quickly his pale hair whips across his forehead and cheeks.
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he mutters, suddenly finding the railing incredibly interesting and worth examining.
You tell yourself you can, then you can….
His words echo through your mind, buoyed by the music and the moonlight and the water and Silvio’s flustered expression. You reach up, touching his shoulder, curling your hand into the soft material of his jacket.
“Silvio.”
He is forced to look at you and that’s when you rise up onto your toes and, without giving yourself even a second to hesitate, kiss him. It’s a soft press of your lips against his and once you’ve done it, your nerves alight with uncertainty. He isn’t moving. His lips are stiff and unyielding, his hands remain at his sides. Part of you wants to pull away and run, leap off the boat and dash across the docks and back into the sheltered darkness of the gardens, away from what may very well be your biggest misstep ever.
But there is another part of you, one that is louder, one that fights the desire to run. It’s the one that remembers his raucous laughter at your jokes, the way his gaze lingers on your face when you smile, the feel of his strong hand whenever it takes yours. That part of your heart knows that you are not alone in what you are feeling and it is what guides your hand up to cup his face and move your lips, pressing another soft kiss to his. You kiss him slowly, holding his face delicately in your palm, coaxing him to please, come out from behind that wall he’s hiding himself behind and join you. It feels like an eternity before you feel him respond, his lips becoming pliant against your kisses. His cheek feels warm to the touch and if you could see him, you would notice the sweep of color across it, pink as coral. His hands rise, holding onto your waist, grounding himself.
He’s kissed people before. Of course he has. But this….this isn’t satisfying some carnal need or urge to indulge. This kiss has strings that are gently tying themselves around his heart. This is emotions and feelings and all those things Silvio keeps locked up, a pirate’s treasure buried deep inside. But you have stumbled your way to his hiding place, your smile the breeze that blows the sand off the treasure chest, your touch the key clicking into place. And now this kiss is lifting the lid, exposing his secrets. He should be terrified. But somehow…..
He shifts, pulling you closer, his hand sliding around to press against your back. You hold onto the nape of his neck, stretching upwards to meet the movement of his mouth. He’s so much gentler than you expected, leaving space amid lingering kisses to appreciate the way your lips fit together, to feel the swell of your lower lip between his. Your breath is sweet and warm against him as you turn your head, trying a different angle. He adjusts expertly, a sailor used to reading the wind and making instinctual calculations of which way to steer.
You break apart only to rest your forehead against his, eyes closed as you revel in the feel of his strong embrace, the faint music from the ballroom drifting along the air, the melody over the thunderous beating of your heart. If you could freeze time and live in this moment, you would. It feels newborn and fragile but oh so beautiful, a protostar bound for the heavens to take its place as a diamond in the sky. The hand on the back of his neck shifts to stroke his silvery hair, marveling that it really does feel as silky as it looks.
He huffs out a breath. Dio, what is happening to him?
“Silvio….”
He’s not ready for words. Not ready to vocalize what all this means. Instead of answering, he leans down and kisses you again, holding your lips captive with his. You don’t protest. Each passing second has you melting slowly into his arms. He feels your softness, the warmth of your body through your gown, and it ignites something inside of him, a flare rising up into the darkest of skies. His fingers slide down your back, back across your waist and then down to the curve of your hips where he takes hold, pulling you hard against him. You’re not startled, you don’t stiffen in his arms the way he thought you might. Yet again you surprise him, not shy in the face of your own desire but welcoming it. You wrap your arms around his neck and your lips part, opening for him like a moonflower on a silver-bright night.
The storm that hits him at the taste of your mouth sends his heart reeling. It careens overboard, sinking deeper and deeper with every taste of your lips, every sweep of your tongue against his. The surface grows darker and darker, further and further away, no matter how often he gasps for air. There is no escape. He cannot fight the sea of desire you have unleashed upon him. He lifts you, strong hands gripping you, your arms and legs wrapping around him like the sweetest of chains, cementing his fate .
His heart is already so entangled, there is no hope of ever being free again.
Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @tele86 @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri silvio#silvio ricci#ikemen silvio#silvio x reader#kiss fic#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#1k first kiss celebration#violettwrites
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i was talking to @dove-da-birb about traits we don't get to see in otome love interests since they all kinda have the same body type and face (no facial hair, no grey hairs, no acne scars, same skinny/muscular body type) so i'm going to share my headcanons on what i think each suitor would have!!
this includes ikevamp, ikepri, ikerev, ikesen, and mystic messenger ^^
definitely has a stubble that scratches against your cheek when they snuggle you:
leonardo, arthur, theo, faust, chevalier, nokto, silvio, edgar, zero, ray, dalim, zen, mitsuhide akechi, kenshin uesugi, sasuke sarutobi, motonari mouri, kennyo.
has smile lines and crows feet that make your heart skip a beat every time you see them:
napoleon, mozart, dazai, sebastian, will, vlad, clavis, jonah, luka, dean, blanc, saeyoung choi, jihyun kim, masamune date, yukimura sanada, yoshimoto imagawa.
has grey hairs...gee wonder why! doesn't matter because you're there to comment on how pretty they are:
comte, leon, sariel, gilbert, lancelot, sirius, oliver, jumin han, nobunaga oda, hideyoshi toyotomi, kicho.
they have some pudge. it can be around their thighs, chest, stomach, doesn't matter, you love it anyway:
isaac, charles, jin, yves, rio, keith, kyle, harr, loki, mousse, jaehee kang, yoosung kim, mitsunari ishida, keiji maeda, shingen takeda.
they have acne scars that you kiss every night:
jean, vincent, licht, luke, seth, fenrir, rika, saeran choi, ieyasu tokugawa, ranmaru mori, kanetsugu naoe.
#auburn's rambles <3#auburn talks ikerev <3#auburn talks ikepri <3#auburn talks ikevamp <3#auburn talks ikesen <3#auburn's fics <3
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