#Sunshine & Starlight Challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gukcnt · 4 days ago

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۶ৎ LITTLE ONE AND THE GRUMP — "beneath the starlight of home"

“I don’t give a fuck what they think. I love you, and that’s all that matters. They’ll come around, or they won’t, but you’re mine, and I’m yours. No one’s changing that.”

pairing: ceo dom!jungkook x university student sub!femreader

genre: neighbors au, slowburn, age gap, grumpy x sunshine, forbidden desire, friends with benefits to lovers, established relationship, slice of life, romance, fluff, angst, smut

warnings: 18+, explicit smut, emotional intensity, parental disapproval, family tension and judgement, emotional vulnerability, defending, relationship anxiety, love and doubt, tender moments, romantic devotion, family pressure, mentions of disapproval, comfort, silent support, miscommunication, deep conversations, risky situations (sexual activity in family home), semipublic sex, slight d/s dynamics, possessive dynamics, passionate sex, penetrative sex, risky sex, unprotected sex, creampie, making out, hickies/marking, bruising, love confessions, emotional and physical connections during sex, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, eating out, face riding, face sitting, tongue fucking, cum swallowing, clit stimulation, breast worship, nipple play, use of nicknames like "sir", praise kink, dirty talk, teasing, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, cum play, biting, body worship, missionary position, silent pleasure, mutual desperation, rough sex, pain and pleasure, forbidden vibes, romantic aftercare, they love each other so much

wc: 7.6k

a/n: I missed this couple so muchh that I couldn’t resist writing this little drabble for them! It’s full of tension and emotions. I absolutely adore the dynamic between these two, their chemistry is everything, and this drabble is all about how their bond remains unbreakable no matter what challenges come their way. I poured my heart into this, and I hope you love it as much as I do ! <3

series m. list | main masterlist

۶ৎ

The winter air bit at your skin, sharp with the scent of pine and frost, as you stood outside your cozy, pastel-hued apartment, your breath clouding in the late January chill. The neighborhood lay hushed under a blanket of snow, streetlights casting golden pools that shimmered on the icy ground, the world wrapped in a stillness that felt both serene and charged with anticipation.

Tonight, you were in his living room, the fire crackling, casting flickering shadows across the dark hardwood, the air thick with the scent of burning cedar. You wore his black hoodie, the sleeves drowning your small hands, and cotton shorts, your hair in a loose braid, stray strands framing your face. Jungkook lounged on the couch, his white t-shirt clinging to his sculpted chest, joggers low on his hips, revealing the sharp V of his pelvis, his dark hair slightly tousled, falling over his forehead. You were discussing a trip to your hometown, a three-hour drive, to introduce him to your parents. The idea twisted your stomach—your parents, traditional and protective, might not understand the eleven-year age gap or his intense, commanding personality. Jungkook sensed your nerves, his hand reaching for yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles, the calluses rough against your soft skin.

“Little one,” he said, his voice low, grounding, cutting through the crackle of the fire. “You’re shaking. Talk to me.”

You sighed, tucking your legs under you, the hoodie pooling around your thighs. “I’m just… scared, Koo,” you admitted, voice small, almost swallowed by the warmth of the room. “My parents—they’re sweet, but they’re old-fashioned. You’re older, and you’re… you. All intense and powerful. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re not right for me?”

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking, but his eyes softened, pulling you into his lap, your knees straddling his hips, his hands warm on your waist. “Baby, I love you. More than anything. I’d burn the fucking world down for you,” he said, voice fierce, his breath hot against your forehead as he kissed it, his lips lingering, soft and firm. “If they don’t see that, that’s their loss. But I’ll be good, yeah? For you, I’ll play nice.” His smirk was playful, but his eyes were deadly serious, a promise etched in their depths.

You melted, your fears easing, your hands clutching his shirt, the cotton warm under your fingers. “I love you, Kookie. So much. I just want them to see how happy you make me,” you whispered, voice trembling, your heart swelling with the weight of your feelings.

He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue teasing yours, tasting the strawberry lip balm you wore, the faint sweetness mingling with his minty breath. “They will, little one. I’ll make sure of it. Now stop worrying. We’ll drive up tomorrow, and I’ll be on my best behavior,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours, his hands tightening on your hips, grounding you. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting his sharp jaw, the intensity in his gaze softening just for you.

The next morning, you woke in his bed, his arms wrapped around you, his chest warm against your back, the winter sun filtering through heavy curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You wore his t-shirt, the fabric soft and smelling of his cologne, your legs tangled with his, his morning stubble grazing your shoulder as he nuzzled you awake. He made your coffee, kissing your temple, his lips lingering, and you packed, your nerves buzzing like a live wire. The drive was serene, Jungkook’s hand resting on your thigh, his black SUV gliding through snow-dusted roads, the radio playing soft acoustic melodies, the heater warming your toes. You wore a cream sweater, its wool soft against your skin, a plaid skirt, and knee-high boots, your star necklace glinting in the sunlight, while he wore a tailored black coat, a crisp white shirt, and slacks, his silver watch gleaming, every inch the powerful CEO, his presence commanding even in the quiet car.

Your hometown was a quaint village, houses with snow-laden roofs, their chimneys puffing smoke, streets lined with bare trees, their branches dusted with frost. Your parents’ house was a two-story cottage, its brick exterior warm against the snowy landscape, fairy lights twinkling on the porch, their golden glow a beacon of home. You clutched Jungkook’s hand as you approached, your heart pounding, your boots crunching in the snow. He squeezed, his grip firm, his warmth seeping through your glove, and you knocked, the door opening to reveal your mother, her graying hair swept into a bun, her smile warm but cautious, her eyes flicking to Jungkook with a quick, assessing glance.

“Sweetheart!” she said, hugging you, her lavender perfume enveloping you, familiar and comforting. Her hands lingered on your shoulders, but her gaze settled on Jungkook, her lips tightening slightly. “And you must be… Jungkook.”

He nodded, his smile polite, restrained, a stark contrast to his usual intensity. “Ma'am, it’s a pleasure. Thank you for having me,” he said, his voice deep, controlled, but you caught the slight tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his side.

Your father appeared, his glasses perched on his nose, his sweater slightly worn, the faint scent of pipe tobacco clinging to him. “Welcome,” he said, shaking Jungkook’s hand, his grip firm, his eyes narrowing slightly, studying the man who’d claimed his daughter’s heart. “Come in, both of you.”

The house smelled of roasted meat, rosemary, and warm bread, the living room cozy with a crackling fire, its heat warming your chilled skin, family photos on the mantel glinting in the firelight. Your parents were polite but reserved, their smiles not reaching their eyes, their movements careful, like they were navigating a fragile truce. You sat on the couch, Jungkook beside you, his hand resting on your knee, a silent claim, his thumb brushing softly, grounding you. Your mother offered tea, her movements graceful, the clink of porcelain cups loud in the tense silence, while your father sat in his armchair, his fingers tapping the armrest, studying Jungkook with a scrutiny that made your stomach twist.

“So, Jungkook,” your father began, his voice measured, the fire popping in the background. “You’re in tech, I hear. Must be a demanding job. Long hours, I imagine?”

Jungkook nodded, his posture relaxed but alert, his hand never leaving your knee. “It is, sir. I run a company, so it’s relentless—meetings, calls, decisions that can’t wait. But I love the challenge. Keeps me sharp,” he said, his tone even, his eyes meeting your father’s without flinching, a quiet confidence in his gaze.

Your mother raised an eyebrow, pouring tea, the steam curling in the air, the faint scent of chamomile mingling with the fire’s cedar. “And you’re… quite a bit older than our daughter,” she said, her voice soft but pointed, her eyes flicking to you, then back to him. “How do you manage that difference? She’s still so young, finding her way.”

Your stomach dropped, your fingers tightening around your teacup, the porcelain warm against your palms. Jungkook’s hand squeezed your knee, his voice calm, unwavering. “Age doesn’t matter when it comes to love, Ma'am. Y/n is mature, brilliant, and she makes me better every day. I respect her, and I’m committed to her happiness—her dreams, her studies, her future,” he said, his eyes softening as they flicked to you, a warmth in them that made your heart ache. “She’s my equal, and I’m here to support her, not hold her back.”

You blushed, your cheeks hot, but your parents exchanged a glance, their silence heavy, the crackle of the fire loud in the pause. Your father leaned forward, his glasses catching the light. “It’s just… you seem very established, Jungkook. Our daughter’s still a student, still figuring things out. We worry she might get… swept up in your world.”

The words stung, implying you were fragile, naive, and you spoke up, your voice firm, cutting through the tension. “Mom, Dad, I’m not getting swept up. Jungkook supports me, believes in me. He’s not holding me back—he’s lifting me up,” you said, your hand finding his, your fingers lacing tightly. “I love him, and he loves me. Can’t you trust me to know what I want?”

Your parents fell silent, the clink of your mother’s spoon against her cup sharp, their eyes darting between you and Jungkook. He squeezed your hand, his eyes proud, but your mother’s lips pursed, her fingers twisting her napkin. “We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart,” she said, voice softer now, but the doubt lingered, unspoken but palpable.

Dinner was served in the dining room, the table set with your mother’s best china, their delicate floral patterns glinting under candlelight, the air thick with the aroma of roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and buttery green beans, the scents mingling with the faint wax of the candles. You wore a soft smile, trying to ease the tension, but your parents’ disapproval hung like a fog, their questions probing, their politeness a thin veneer. Jungkook sat beside you, his presence a steady anchor, his hand brushing yours under the table, his touch a lifeline.

“Y/n,” your mother said, passing the potatoes, the serving spoon clinking against the bowl, “your studies are going well, yes? You’ve always been our little scholar, nose in a book since you were five.”

You nodded, spooning food onto your plate, the creamy potatoes steaming. “Yes, Mom. I’m doing great. Just aced a big exam, actually. Jungkook’s been helping me study, keeping me focused,” you said, your voice bright, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

Your father’s eyes flicked to Jungkook, skeptical, his fork pausing mid-air. “Helping how, exactly? You must be busy with your… empire,” he said, the word laced with a faint edge, his tone implying Jungkook’s world was too vast, too consuming for you.

Jungkook’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement, but he kept his tone even, his voice a low rumble. “I make time for her, sir. She’s my priority. I help her organize her notes, quiz her, make sure she eats when she’s buried in books. She’s incredible, and I’m proud of her,” he said, his eyes meeting yours, a warmth in them that made your chest tighten, his thumb brushing your hand under the table, a secret reassurance.

You smiled, your heart swelling, but your mother’s lips pursed tighter, her fork scraping her plate. “It’s just… you’re so established, Jungkook,” she said, her voice careful, like she was choosing each word. “Our daughter’s still finding her way, still so young. We worry she might get… overwhelmed by your lifestyle, your responsibilities.”

The word landed like a stone, and you bristled, your fork clattering softly against your plate. “Mom, I’m not overwhelmed,” you said, voice sharper now, your frustration bubbling over. “Jungkook supports me, believes in me. He’s not dragging me into his world—he’s building a world with me.”

The room fell silent, the candles flickering, casting long shadows across the table, the air heavy with unspoken words. Jungkook’s hand tightened on yours, his eyes blazing with pride, but also a flicker of anger, restrained for your sake. “She’s right,” he said, his voice low, directed at your parents, cutting through the silence like a blade. “I’d never clip her wings. Y/n’s my world, and I’ll do anything to see her shine. I know I’m older, and my life’s intense, but she’s my equal, my partner. I’m in this for keeps—forever.”

The sincerity in his voice, the raw devotion, made your chest ache, tears pricking your eyes, but your father sighed, pushing his glasses up, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “We just want what’s best for her, Jungkook. You understand, don’t you? She’s our only daughter,” he said, his voice softer but still heavy with doubt, his eyes searching Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook nodded, his jaw tight, a muscle ticking. “I do, sir. And I’m it. No one will love her more than I do. No one will fight harder for her happiness,” he said, his voice steady, unwavering, his hand squeezing yours so tightly it almost hurt, his love a tangible force.

Dinner continued, the conversation stilted, your parents’ questions probing but cloaked in politeness, the clink of cutlery and soft scrape of plates filling the silences. You shared stories of your studies, your baking, trying to lighten the mood, your voice bright despite the tension, but the undercurrent of their unease lingered, a shadow over the meal. Jungkook was courteous, his answers measured, but you saw the strain in his eyes, the effort to prove himself for your sake, his fingers flexing against your hand, a silent battle.

After dinner, you helped clear the table, the kitchen warm with the scent of dish soap and leftover spices, the sink gurgling softly. Your mother pulled you aside, her hands wringing a dish towel, the cotton twisting under her fingers. “He’s… intense, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice low, her eyes darting to the doorway where Jungkook’s low voice rumbled, talking to your father. “Are you sure about this? He’s so much older, and he seems… controlling. We just want you to be safe.”

You bristled, drying a plate, the towel rough against your hands. “He’s not controlling, Mom. He’s protective, and he loves me. You don’t know him like I do,” you said, your voice firm, your heart pounding. “He’s kind, and he makes me feel safe, like I can do anything. Please, give him a chance. He’s my home.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging, but her eyes remained unconvinced, lines deepening around her mouth. “We’re trying, sweetheart. It’s just… a lot,” she said, her voice trailing off, the dish towel limp in her hands.

Back in the living room, Jungkook stood by the fire, his tall frame imposing, the flames casting shadows across his sharp jaw, his expression unreadable as your father offered him a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. They spoke in low tones, and you caught fragments—“responsibility,” “future,” “intentions”—but Jungkook’s posture was rigid, his control unwavering, his hand gripping the glass tightly, his knuckles pale.

Upstairs, your childhood room was a time capsule, its pink walls soft in the glow of fairy lights strung above, their golden light twinkling like stars, the air thick with the scent of lavender and old books, a comforting nostalgia that wrapped around you. The twin bed sat against one wall, its floral quilt slightly faded, the mattress creaking under your weight, stuffed animals perched on a shelf, their button eyes glinting faintly. You wore one of Jungkook’s t-shirts, the soft cotton loose on your petite frame, and cotton shorts, your hair loose, spilling over your shoulders in soft waves, while he wore black joggers and a fitted black t-shirt, the fabric straining against his muscles, his broad chest and biceps a stark contrast to the room’s delicate charm. You sat on the bed, the springs squeaking, your fingers twisting the hem of his shirt, your nerves fraying like a worn thread.

“They don’t like you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your eyes downcast, the quilt’s soft texture grounding you. “I could see it, Koo. They think you’re too old, too… intense. I hate this. I wanted them to love you like I do.”

He knelt before you, his knees pressing into the plush rug, his hands cupping your face, tilting your chin up, his dark eyes intense but soft, a storm calmed just for you. “Little one, listen to me,” he said, his voice fierce, a low growl that vibrated in your chest. “I don’t give a fuck what they think. I love you, and that’s all that matters. They’ll come around, or they won’t, but you’re mine, and I’m yours. No one’s changing that. Not your parents, not anyone.” His thumbs brushed your cheeks, catching a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen, his touch warm, grounding, his breath minty and close.

You sniffled, leaning into his hands, your lips trembling. “I just wanted them to see how amazing you are, Kookie. You’re my everything—my safe place, my strength. I’m so proud of you, and they’re acting like you’re… wrong for me,” you said, your voice breaking, tears spilling now, hot against your cheeks.

He kissed you, slow and deep, his lips firm but gentle, his tongue teasing yours, tasting your tears, your strawberry lip balm, the intimacy grounding you. “Baby, I’m not wrong for you. I’m the man who’d die for you, who lives for you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, his hands tightening on your face, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “They don’t get it yet, but they will. And if they don’t, fuck it. You’re my home, little one. My light. You’re all I need, and I’m not letting you go—ever.”

You clung to him, your lips trembling against his, the kiss turning desperate, your hands tangling in his hair, the strands soft and thick, your nails scraping his scalp. “I love you, Koo,” you whispered, voice breaking, your chest heaving, your heart so full it hurt. “So much. I’m sorry I dragged you here, put you through this.”

He pulled back, his eyes blazing, a mix of love and frustration, his jaw tight. “Don’t fucking apologize,” he said, voice low, almost a growl, his hands sliding to your shoulders, gripping firmly. “I’d go anywhere for you—through hell, through this. You think I care about a couple of disapproving parents? I’ve faced worse—boardrooms, deals, people who’d stab me in the back. You’re worth it, baby. Every second of this. You’re my reason, my everything.”

You nodded, tears slowing, your heart swelling, your hands clutching his shirt, the fabric warm and taut over his muscles. He climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, the springs creaking softly, pulling you into his arms, his body a furnace, his scent—cologne, mint, and something uniquely him—enveloping you. You lay there, talking softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back, the calluses rough against your skin, your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady, a low thrum that calmed you. “Remember the cookies?” he murmured, voice fond, a smile in his tone. “You were so fucking cute, blushing, calling me sir, trembling like a little bird. I was gone for you right then, knew I was fucked.”

You giggled, tracing his jaw, the faint stubble prickling your fingers. “You were terrifying, Kookie. All grumpy and huge, like a storm in a suit. But… you took my cookies, and I saw you smile, just a little. I knew you weren’t as scary as you looked,” you said, your voice soft, the memory warming you, the fairy lights casting a golden glow across his face, softening his sharp features.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, kissing your nose, his lips soft, lingering. “You’re trouble, little one. Always have been, walking in with that damn tin, making me want you when I had no business wanting someone so sweet,” he said, his voice teasing but laced with truth, his arms tightening around you, his warmth a cocoon.

The house was silent, your parents asleep down the hall, the clock ticking past midnight, its soft clicks barely audible. The fairy lights cast a dreamy glow, their golden light dancing across Jungkook’s face, highlighting the curve of his cheekbones, the intensity in his dark eyes, now heavy with desire. A familiar heat stirred in your core, your body aching for him, your pussy throbbing with need, the air charged with unspoken want. You shifted, straddling his lap, the mattress creaking softly, your hands pressing against his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles, the steady thump of his heart under your palms.

“Koo,” you whispered, voice shy, trembling, your cheeks flushing in the dim light, “I need you. Right now.”

His eyes darkened, a storm brewing, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the bulge in his joggers hardening beneath you, pressing against your core through your thin shorts, sending a jolt of heat through you. “Baby, we’re in your parents’ house,” he said, voice rough, strained, a low growl that vibrated in his chest, his jaw tight with restraint, his cock twitching against you. “They’re right down the fucking hall. You sure about this?”

You nodded, biting your lip, your pussy already wet, slick with need, the ache unbearable, your hips rocking slightly, seeking friction. “I’ll be quiet, Kookie,” you whispered, voice desperate, your hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Please, I need you so bad. I can’t wait.”

He groaned, low and tortured, his hands sliding under your t-shirt, his palms warm against your skin, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing your nipples, the sensitive buds hardening instantly, a soft whimper escaping you. “Fuck, little one,” he muttered, voice thick with lust, his eyes locked on your chest, his obsession evident. “These tits—fuck, I’m fucking obsessed. So perfect, so mine.” He lifted your shirt, the cool air hitting your skin, your nipples pebbling further, and his lips closed around one, sucking slowly, his tongue swirling, hot and wet, drawing a sharp gasp from you, your hand flying to your mouth to stifle it, your body trembling.

His mouth was relentless, his lips sealing around your nipple, sucking with a gentle pressure that sent sparks to your core, his tongue flicking the bud, teasing, then lapping slowly, the wet heat making you squirm, your hips rocking against his hardening cock, the friction delicious but not enough. His teeth grazed lightly, just enough to sting, and you whimpered, muffled, your hand clamped over your mouth, your other hand tugging his hair, the strands soft and thick, your nails scraping his scalp. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your breast, low and primal, his hand kneading your other breast, his fingers rolling your nipple, pinching gently, the sensation sharp and electric, your pussy clenching, dripping onto your shorts, soaking through to his joggers.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured, voice muffled, his lips glistening as he switched to your other nipple, giving it the same worship, sucking harder now, his tongue circling, teasing, his stubble scraping your sensitive skin, adding a delicious edge of roughness, your body arching into him, desperate for more. “These tits are gonna kill me, so fucking perfect,” he growled, his hand squeezing, his thumb brushing your wet nipple, the bud slick from his mouth, your breasts heaving, hickies blooming dark against your skin, a constellation of his claim.

“Kookie, please,” you whimpered, voice barely audible, muffled by your hand, your thighs trembling, your pussy throbbing, slick and swollen, the ache unbearable. “Need you… need you now.”

He chuckled, dark and fond, kissing down your stomach, his lips soft but searing, leaving a trail of heat, his breath hot against your skin, the faint scent of your arousal mixing with his cologne, heady and intoxicating. “Patience, little one,” he murmured, voice low, teasing, his hands sliding your shorts and panties down, the fabric catching on your thighs, the cool air hitting your wet folds, making you shiver, your clit pulsing with need. “Gonna take my time with you, make you feel so fucking good.”

He spread your legs, settling between them, his broad shoulders pushing your thighs apart, the mattress creaking softly, his breath hot against your inner thighs, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin, a delicious burn that made you squirm. His fingers parted your folds, revealing your swollen, glistening pussy, the slickness catching the fairy light, shimmering faintly, your arousal dripping onto the quilt, a faint wet spot forming. “Fuck, look at this pussy,” he whispered, voice reverent, his eyes dark with hunger, his lips hovering just above your clit, his breath teasing, making you tremble, your hands gripping the quilt, nails digging into the fabric, your heart pounding, terrified of making a sound. “So fucking wet for me, little one. So pretty, so fucking mine.”

You tried to close your legs, shy and overwhelmed, your cheeks burning, but he held them open, his grip firm, his fingers digging into your thighs, leaving faint marks. “Don’t hide, baby,” he said, voice firm, his eyes meeting yours, a command wrapped in tenderness. “You’re perfect. Let me see you, let me taste you.” His tongue flicked over your clit, slow and deliberate, a hot, wet caress that sent a shockwave through you, your body bucking, a soft cry escaping before you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide with panic, the silence of the house pressing against you.

He groaned, the vibration shooting through your core, his lips curling into a smirk against your pussy, his tongue relentless, circling your clit with slow, teasing flicks, then flattening, lapping broadly, the wet heat overwhelming, your thighs trembling under his hands. “Taste so fucking good,” he murmured, voice muffled, his tongue plunging inside, hot and probing, curling to stroke your walls, tasting your arousal, the slickness coating his lips, his chin, his stubble glistening, the sight so erotic you nearly sobbed, your hand muffling the sound, your other hand tugging his hair, desperate, needy.

His tongue fucked you, slow and deep, curling to hit spots that made your vision blur, his nose brushing your clit, the pressure perfect, relentless, your hips rocking against his face, chasing the pleasure, your body tense with the effort to stay quiet, your breaths ragged, your chest heaving. He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips sealing around the sensitive bud, sucking with a gentle pressure that made you see stars, his tongue flicking in a rhythm that had you trembling, your pussy clenching, dripping, the wet sounds faint but dangerous, your fear of being heard warring with the pleasure consuming you.

“Sir,” you whimpered, barely audible, the honorific slipping out, muffled by your hand, your body arching, your clit throbbing under his tongue, your pussy aching for more. He growled, low and primal, the sound vibrating against your core, his tongue relentless, sucking harder, his lips working your clit with a precision that drove you wild, your thighs shaking, your nails digging into his scalp, your hand clamped so tightly over your mouth your jaw ached.

He added a finger, sliding it into your tight, wet heat, curling to stroke your walls, the stretch delicious, his calluses rough against your softness, the sensation grounding, intense, your pussy clenching around him, desperate for more. “So fucking tight,” he murmured, voice muffled, his lips brushing your clit, his breath hot, his finger pumping slowly, then faster, a second joining, stretching you further, the burn easing into pleasure, your hips rocking, chasing the friction, your hand muffling your desperate whimpers, your eyes locked on his, the fairy lights casting shadows across his face, his jaw tight, his cock twitching, leaking precum, his restraint fraying.

“Look at you, little one,” he whispered, voice rough, his eyes meeting yours over the plane of your stomach, his fingers curling, hitting that perfect spot, his tongue flicking your clit, relentless, teasing, then sucking again, his lips glistening, his chin wet with your arousal. “So wet, so fucking perfect, taking my fingers like a good girl. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Gonna cum on my tongue, but you gotta be quiet, baby. Can’t let them hear how good I make you feel.”

You nodded, tears streaming, your hand over your mouth, your body trembling, your pussy clenching around his fingers, your clit throbbing under his tongue, the pleasure building, a tight coil in your core, your breaths ragged, your heart pounding, the silence of the house a pressure you could barely withstand. He added a third finger, stretching you further, the burn intense, his fingers curling, pumping faster, his tongue circling your clit, then sucking hard, the wet sounds of his mouth and your slickness faint but risky, your body rocking, desperate, your hand muffling your cries, your other hand tugging his hair, your nails scraping, drawing a low growl from him, the vibration pushing you closer.

“Cum for me, little one,” he growled, voice commanding, his fingers curling, hitting that spot, his tongue relentless, sucking your clit, flicking, lapping, his lips sealed around the bud, his eyes locked on yours, watching you unravel, his free hand gripping your thigh, bruising, grounding. “Be quiet, but cum for your sir. Let me feel this pussy squeeze me.”

You came with a stifled scream, your hand clamped over your mouth, your pussy pulsing around his fingers, clenching tight, your clit throbbing under his tongue, the pleasure blinding, a white-hot wave that crashed over you, your body convulsing, your thighs shaking, your nails raking his scalp, your vision blurring, tears streaming, the effort to stay quiet agonizing, your jaw aching, your lip bleeding where you’d bitten it. Your arousal gushed, soaking his fingers, his chin, his lips, the quilt beneath you, the wet spot spreading, the scent of your release mixing with his cologne, heady and overwhelming. He licked you through it, his tongue slow now, soothing, drawing out every shudder, every whimper, his fingers still curling, pumping gently, milking your orgasm until you were boneless, trembling, your hand falling from your mouth, your breaths ragged, your chest heaving.

He crawled up, his face glistening, lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes dark with pride, love, and lingering hunger. “Good girl,” he whispered, kissing you, letting you taste yourself, your arousal sharp and tangy on his tongue, his lips soft but demanding, his hand stroking your hair, gentle now, soothing. “You did so fucking well, little one. So perfect, so quiet for me. I love you, baby.”

You panted, clinging to him, your voice barely audible, trembling, “Fuck, that was intense,” your words slurred, your body still buzzing, your pussy sensitive, throbbing, your hands clutching his shirt, your nails digging into his skin, your heart pounding.

He chuckled, low and fond, kissing your forehead, his lips warm, lingering. “You’re gonna kill me, baby, cumming like that, calling me sir,” he murmured, his voice teasing but laced with adoration, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your tear-streaked cheeks. “But we’re not done, little one. Need to fuck you, need to feel you around my cock. You ready for me?”

You whimpered, your eyes widening, a mix of awe and need, your pussy clenching at his words, still sensitive but aching for him, your body trembling with anticipation. “Koo,” you whispered, voice small, “it’s so big… what if I can’t stay quiet? It feels so good, I—”

He kissed you, cutting you off, his lips firm, possessive, his tongue teasing, swallowing your worries, his hands sliding to your hips, gripping firmly. “You’ll be quiet, baby,” he said, voice low, a command wrapped in tenderness, his eyes searching yours, watching for any hesitation. “You’ll be my good girl, take my cock, and stay silent. We’ll go slow, yeah? I’ve got you. Tell me if it’s too much, and we stop. Always.”

You nodded, blushing, your heart racing, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging in, leaving faint marks. “I’m ready, Kookie,” you whispered, voice trembling but sure, your pussy throbbing, slick and ready, your body aching for him. “I want you. Please, fuck me.”

He smiled, a rare, tender smile, his eyes softening, and stripped off his joggers and boxers, his cock springing free, hard, thick, the veins prominent, the tip glistening with precum, massive and intimidating, your eyes widening, a mix of awe and fear, your pussy clenching, desperate but nervous. “Fuck, Koo,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

He knelt between your legs, kissing you softly, his lips reassuring, his hand stroking your thigh, soothing, his cock brushing your entrance, the heat of it making you shiver, your arousal dripping, coating the tip. “We’ll go slow, baby,” he promised, voice gentle but strained, his eyes locked on yours, watching for any sign of discomfort. “Gonna stretch you, make you feel so good. You don’t have to do this, but if you want it, I’ll make it perfect. Tell me you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you whispered, voice stronger now, your cheeks burning, your hands clutching his arms, feeling the hard muscle, the strength beneath his skin. “I want you, Koo. Please, fuck me.”

He nodded, kissing you deeply, his lips possessive, his tongue claiming, his hands spreading your thighs, the cool air hitting your slick folds, your clit pulsing, your pussy ready, dripping. “Gonna stretch you first,” he murmured, sliding one finger inside, then two, then three, scissoring them, the stretch intense, your pussy clenching, slick and hot, your hips rocking, your hand over your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers, your eyes locked on his, the fairy lights casting shadows across his face, his jaw tight, his cock twitching, leaking precum, his restraint fraying.

“So fucking tight, little one,” he growled, voice strained, his fingers curling, pumping, stretching you, preparing you, his other hand palming his cock, stroking slowly, his eyes never leaving your face, watching your reactions, your flushed cheeks, your trembling lips. “Gonna feel so good around me, baby. My perfect girl, taking my fingers so well.”

He positioned himself, the tip of his cock brushing your entrance, hot and slick, the pressure teasing, your pussy clenching, desperate, your hands gripping the quilt, your heart pounding, the silence of the house pressing against you, the risk of being heard heightening every sensation. “Look at me,” he said, voice firm, his eyes intense, searching, his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, grounding you. “We stop anytime you say.”

You nodded, your breath hitching, and he pushed in, just the tip, stretching you, the burn sharp, intense, your pussy clenching around him, your walls fluttering, the fullness overwhelming, a soft cry escaping before you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide, tears pricking, your body trembling. He paused, kissing your neck, his lips soft, his breath hot, whispering, “You okay, baby? You’re doing so good, so fucking perfect.”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, voice trembling, muffled, your hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, leaving red marks, your body adjusting, the burn easing into pleasure, the fullness grounding, his cock stretching you beyond anything you’d felt. “Keep going, please.”

He eased in, inch by inch, slow, deliberate, his cock filling you, stretching your walls, the heat of him searing, your pussy clenching, slick and tight, your arousal coating him, easing the way, your hips rocking slightly, seeking more, your hand muffling your desperate whimpers, your eyes locked on his, the intimacy overwhelming. He groaned, low and tortured, his jaw tight, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment, his control fraying, his cock twitching inside you, the sensation sending a jolt through you, your pussy clenching, a soft moan escaping, muffled, your heart pounding, the bed creaking faintly, every sound a risk.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, voice rough, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot, his hands gripping your hips, bruising, his cock fully inside, filling you to the brim, hitting deep, your pussy stretched tight, the pressure intense, pleasure sparking with every slight movement. “You’re so fucking tight, so perfect. Feel so good, little one. My good girl, taking my cock like this.”

The pain faded, replaced by a throbbing need, your pussy pulsing around him, your clit aching, your body begging for movement. “Move, Koo,” you whispered, voice shaky, muffled, your hand over your mouth, your other hand gripping his arm, nails digging in, your eyes pleading. “Fuck me, please.”

He moved, slow thrusts at first, his cock sliding in and out, the friction delicious, each movement sending sparks through you, your pussy clenching, slick and hot, the wet sounds faint but dangerous, your hand muffling your gasps, your body rocking with his, the bed creaking softly, the silence of the house amplifying every sensation, your fear of being heard making you tremble, your heart racing. “Quiet, baby,” he murmured, kissing you, swallowing your soft moans, his lips firm, possessive, his tongue teasing, his cock hitting deeper, filling you completely, your walls fluttering, your clit throbbing, neglected but aching.

“So wet for me,” he growled, voice low, his thrusts quickening, the slap of skin faint but risky, his cock hitting that perfect spot, making you see stars, your pussy clenching, your arousal dripping, coating him, the quilt, the scent of sex mixing with the lavender and books, heady and overwhelming. “My tiny little one, taking my cock so well. Look at you, so fucking small, and you’re mine,” he said, his voice thick with lust, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading, his thumb brushing your nipple, the bud hard, sensitive, making you whine, your hand clamping tighter over your mouth, your eyes tearing, the effort to stay quiet agonizing.

“Sir,” you whimpered, barely audible, muffled, your body arching, your pussy pulsing around him, your clit throbbing, the honorific slipping out, a plea, a surrender. He groaned, low and primal, his thrusts harder, deeper, his cock hitting your cervix, the pressure intense, pleasure bordering on pain, your walls clenching, your arousal soaking him, the wet sounds louder, your heart pounding, the bed creaking, the risk of being heard pushing you to the edge, your body trembling, your hands shaking, your nails raking his back, leaving red welts, your desperation palpable.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, voice strained, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot, ragged, his control fraying, his cock twitching, his thrusts erratic, his hand sliding between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles, the sensation electric, your pussy clenching, your body bucking, a stifled cry escaping, your hand muffling it, your eyes wide, tears streaming, the pleasure overwhelming, the silence pressing against you. “My perfect girl, so fucking tight, so wet. This pussy’s mine, made for me, isn’t it? Gonna fuck you so good, little one.”

You nodded, tears streaming, your body trembling, your pussy clenching around him, your clit throbbing under his fingers, the pleasure building, a tight coil in your core, your breaths ragged, your hand clamped so tightly over your mouth your jaw ached, your lip bleeding, the metallic taste sharp on your tongue. “Sir, please,” you whimpered, muffled, your voice desperate, your hips rocking, chasing the friction, your body tense, the effort to stay quiet consuming you, your heart pounding, the fairy lights blurring in your vision, the room spinning, the pleasure blinding.

“Cum for me, little one,” he growled, voice commanding, his thrusts relentless, his cock hitting deep, filling you, stretching you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster, the pressure perfect, his lips brushing your neck, kissing, sucking, leaving hickies, his teeth grazing, his breath hot, ragged. “Be quiet, baby, but cum for me. Let me feel this pussy squeeze my cock, show me you’re mine.”

You came with a stifled scream, your hand clamped over your mouth, your pussy pulsing around his cock, clenching tight, a vice grip, your clit throbbing under his fingers, the pleasure blinding, a white-hot wave that crashed over you, your body convulsing, your thighs shaking, your nails raking his back, drawing blood, your vision blurring, tears streaming, the effort to stay quiet agonizing, your jaw aching, your lip bleeding, the metallic taste sharp, your arousal gushing, soaking his cock, his thighs, the quilt, the wet spot spreading, the scent of your release overwhelming, mixing with his sweat, his cologne, the lavender, the books, a heady cocktail that filled the room. Your body shook, your pussy milking him, your clit pulsing, your breaths ragged, your chest heaving, your hands trembling, your heart pounding, the silence of the house intact, barely, your relief mingling with the pleasure, the intimacy, the love overwhelming, your pussy full, dripping, the warmth of his cum grounding, claiming, his scent, his sweat, his breath enveloping you, a cocoon of safety, of love.

He groaned, low and tortured, his thrusts erratic, his cock twitching, his control shattered, his hands gripping your hips, bruising, his fingers digging in, his body trembling, his breath ragged, his eyes locked on yours, watching you unravel, his pride, his love, his hunger evident. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, voice rough, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot, his cock pulsing, his thrusts frantic, chasing his release, the wet sounds of your pussy loud, risky, the bed creaking, the silence pressing against you. “Gonna fill you, little one. Gonna breed this pussy, make it mine. Take it all for me, my good girl.”

He came with a low, guttural growl, his cock pulsing, hot spurts filling you, coating your walls, the heat searing, his grip tightening, his fingers bruising your hips, his body trembling, his thrusts slowing, drawing out his release, your pussy clenching, milking every drop, your clit throbbing, sensitive, your body shaking, your hands clutching him, your nails digging in, your breaths ragged, your heart pounding, the silence of the house intact, barely, your relief mingling with the pleasure, the intimacy, the love overwhelming, your pussy full, dripping, the warmth of his cum grounding, claiming, his scent, his sweat, his breath enveloping you, a cocoon of safety, of love.

He collapsed onto you, careful not to crush you, his weight grounding, his lips kissing your tears away, his hands stroking your hair, gentle now, soothing, his breath ragged, his heart pounding against your chest, his cock softening inside you, the warmth of him a comfort. “Good girl,” he murmured, voice soft, tender, his lips brushing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your tear-streaked skin, his eyes full of love, adoration, pride. “You did so fucking well, little one. So perfect, so quiet for me. I love you, baby. More than anything.”

You panted, clinging to him, your voice barely audible, trembling, your body still buzzing, your pussy sensitive, throbbing, your heart so full it hurt. “I love you, Kookie,” you whispered, voice slurred, your hands clutching his shirt, your nails digging into his skin, your tears slowing, your chest heaving, your lips swollen, your face flushed, your hair messy, your body spent. “Fuck, that was… I can’t even… I love you so much.”

He chuckled, low and fond, kissing your forehead, his lips lingering, his hands stroking your back, soothing, his warmth enveloping you, his scent grounding you, the fairy lights casting a soft glow, the room a haven, safe, warm, yours. “You’re gonna kill me, baby,” he murmured, voice teasing, his eyes softening, his love evident, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks, wiping away the last of your tears. “Cumming like that, so fucking tight, so quiet. My perfect girl, my little one. I’m so fucking in love with you, it scares me.”

You smiled, weak but radiant, tracing his jaw, the stubble prickling your fingers, your heart swelling, your body spent but content, your pussy full, sensitive, your clit still pulsing faintly, the aftershocks lingering, your love for him a fire that warmed you through the winter chill. “I’m scared too, Koo,” you whispered, voice soft, your lips brushing his, a gentle kiss, your hands stroking his hair, the strands soft, damp with sweat, your love a tangible force, a light in the dark. “But I’m yours, forever. No one else, just you.”

He kissed you, slow and deep, his lips soft, his tongue teasing, his hands tightening, pulling you closer, his warmth a cocoon, his love a promise, his heart yours. “Forever, little one,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot, his hands stroking your back, grounding you. “You’re my light, my home. No one’s taking you from me—not your parents, not the world. I’d fight for you, die for you, live for you.”

You nodded, tears pricking again, your heart full, your body spent, your love for him overwhelming, the fairy lights glowing, the room warm, safe, the silence of the house a fragile victory, your love a fire that burned bright. He cleaned you gently, using tissues from your nightstand, his touch careful, his kisses soft, his hands soothing, wiping away the slickness, the cum, his care a balm, his love a light. You curled up in his arms, the quilt pulled over you, the mattress creaking faintly, the fairy lights twinkling, the room a haven, his warmth a cocoon, his heartbeat steady, his breath soft, his love a fire that warmed you through the cold.

You talked softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your back, your head on his chest, his voice low, fond, his love evident in every word, every touch, every glance. “They’ll come around,” he whispered, kissing your temple, his lips soft, lingering, his hands stroking your hair, soothing, his warmth grounding you, the room a sanctuary, the night a promise. “And if they don’t, fuck it, baby. You’re my forever, my little one. No one’s taking you from me, not ever.”

You smiled, tracing his jaw, your fingers soft, your heart full, your body spent, your love a light that burned bright, your childhood room a haven, his arms your home, his heart yours, the winter night silent, the fairy lights glowing, your love a fire that warmed you through the cold, a promise, a forever, a home.

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bluesunss · 13 days ago

Text

Coup de foudre Choi Seunghyun x F!Reader

Big bang april challenge - April 19th

summary: struggling to get tickets happens to the best of us. risking your life and getting saved by your former best friend? That's less likely. But the odds are never zero.

warnings: none. created a kpop group for plot's sake

a/n: im tired?! sorry if this is bad. thank you again to @ldydeath and @wcnderlnds for this challenge.

The 'Coup de Foudre' exists.

It means lightning strike. Love at first sight. It is not a mere coincidence. Chemical reactions, hormones, the heart accelerates, the world narrows to just one person.

And we believe it.

VIVARA's debut album was called Coup de Foudre. They took the word from French and altered its meaning. Although they debuted in the early 2000's, they truly gained popularity with their breakout hits such as Starlight Rush and Eclipsed Heart.

What is amusing is that YG Entertainment manages their account too.

Just like BigBang. Your former best friend's group.

You pressed your bag against your back and ran through the pitch-black night.

You don’t believe in love at first sight, and that’s why you adore their band. Their first album had hit all the right spots. When nobody knew them, you were there, singing Break or streak until there was no more air in your lungs and your parents threatened to kick you out (they didn't).

Or in highschool, when you got rejected, and they released Reverie. Only real fans got the secret message. It was about dreaming but spoke of nightmares.

Or Eleven pretty clouds. When you adopted your first dog, Cinnamon - a tiny bark machine with too much energy. It felt like sunshine and cotton candy.

Or, even later. When your childhood best friend suddenly ghosted you. And they released Limbs. That song was controversial. It was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system.

So when they announced a concert in Seoul, you were thrilled. As a teenager, your parents were intransigent. Their kid was not going to a concert. (They also didn't want to pay). As an adult, however, you had the means and the absolute will to.

The problem is that despite being a loyal fan when they had no one, no one asks for your opinion when their band skyrockets, and you’re left scrambling for a concert ticket that seems impossible to get.

Loyalty doesn’t pay off.

Yet, on Tuesday, even though you had to work the next day, you opened your laptop at midnight. The sales would begin at three o’clock, but the website was quickly overloaded, like before a big sale - you had to camp out to secure tickets.

On coffee and tea, you endured until three, battling sleep. You tried studying, reading on your phone - nothing worked.

At 2:59 a.m., your bank card details were entered. At 3:01:37 a.m., the tickets were gone.

All because you mistook a 0 for an O in the card details.

Shame and stubbornness coexisted within you. They pushed you to search further, no matter what you had to go through. You were getting a ticket. Wherever. Resale sites. Groups. Ads. The newspaper.

NOTHING. NOWHERE.

Was this what your loyalty to the band was worth? You were fed up. So, you posted an ad on a site with no hope, and a message appeared.

“October 17th, under Hangang Bridge. $500. 11 p.m.”

The fact that it was in dollars was suspicious, but you printed the tickets at a shady exchange agent who charged way more than their worth in wons.

It felt like you were walking to your death, but you secretly hid your dog in your backpack. Just in case. She was a small harmless thing, but she barked so loudly it could shatter eardrums.

And so you ran through the pitch-black night. Under the bridge. Where broken bottles lie. Out of breath, you paused by a streetlamp, feeling your dog stir, and resumed running.

You checked your watch. 10:54 p.m. The bridge was in front of you. You were on time. You descended into the sand and took shelter in the shadow, waiting with clenched hands.

A masked man arrived after a few minutes.

“Money first.”

You frowned. “At the same time.”

“MONEY FIRST!”

You took your bag off your back and muttered, “OK, OK.” Then you opened it.

“Please, no noise, Cinnamon.”

She stuck out her tongue, panting with joy. You reached into the bag, pulling out the bundles. But before extending your hand, you hesitated.

“I still prefer to exchange at the same time…”

The man suddenly slammed you against the wall, and your bag fell, rolling near the edge.

“LET GO OF ME!”

“WHERE’S THE MONEY?”

“IN MY BAG! FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, LET GO-”

Cinnamon suddenly leaped out, barking loudly.

“Where’s this damn dog from-!”

He tried to kick her, but one strike sent him crashing onto the asphalt. Another one to the ground. A third came from the foot straight into his stomach. The man groaned.

It was the moment Cinnamon bit his wrist while barking. The man, nearly crying, struggled to get up, stumbling away headfirst.

Your savior was breathing heavily.

“Damn it, if it wasn’t for Cinnamon’s barking, you’d be dead!”

Holding your chest, you collapsed. Seunghyun dropped down behind you. “Are you okay?”

He leaned close to your face, Cinnamon curled in your arms. You nodded, sniffling. “I was so scared.”

Then all the emotions resurfaced.

“T.O.P? What are you doing here?”

He made a sort of pout. “It sounds weird coming from you.”

You couldn't hear him. The emotions were still so strong. Your heart was racing. You cupped your face in your hands. “How did you find me?”

His mask was up. He pulled it down and got closer to you.

“I was passing by and recognized Cinnamon’s barking. I thought it was an illusion. I haven't heard her in forever.”

He stood up and dusted off his pants, then extended his hand to you.

“What was that man doing?”

“He wanted my money for a VIVARA ticket,” you said softly.

"That band you used to force me to listen to?"

You chuckled, laughing at the memory. "Acting like you disliked it. I saw you swaying your head, once."

You didn't need to look to know he was smiling. "Their lyrics made no sense. They put random words together."

Tapping his shoulder, you checked Cinnamon was still strutting next to you. "You're acting like saying Fantastic baby on repeat makes sense," you rolled your eyes.

"Pffft. You saw this?"

That's where you stopped walking, heat burning your cheeks. "It's... it was a hit. Everyone saw it. That's it."

"Your ears are red, cheonsa. Don't lie to me."

Ugh! This man. "Well, you were gone, and I needed to check you were alive. That is all."

He faltered. "About that-"

You interrupted him. "No I'm good. I don't care. It's fine. I'm fine." But your voice was shaking. "Only thing saddening me right now is that I will never get to see VIVARA live."

"You can."

He stopped walking. You halted too, surprised. "Why did you stop? And can what?"

"A ticket. I can get one for you. Or as many tickets as you want."

The cold air from the river made you realize that rain was about to fall. "What?"

You rubbed your cold arm to calm the goosebumps. Seunghyun started walking again and took off his long black jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

“Jiyong know the main girl. They wanted to collaborate. It’s super easy for me to get you a ticket.”

You shook your head, still shocked. But you couldn't. That was unfair. And you were acting as if Seunghyun hadn't disappeared from your life for years, gotten in a popular boys band, released at least three hit songs.

“No, I can’t ask you for that. At least I’ll pay you back-”

He stopped you again, his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, cheonsa, what are we? For life, for death, you remember?”

You chuckled weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“That was when we were kids. Should I remind you who broke the promise?”

His fingers tightened around your shoulder, but he didn’t answer. He took two steps back, and you continued walking through the dark night.

The first raindrops fell.

“Should I pass you the ticket tomorrow?”

"I said no."

"And I don't care. Just tell me if I should come by Donggyo tomorrow or meet you somewhere."

Your eyes darkened.

“I moved out.”

The rain intensified. You started to feel cold and pulled his jacket tighter around your shoulders. “You’re going to catch a cold," you told him.

He shook his head.

“No.”

But you saw him shiver.

“Seunghyun, you’re still a terrible liar.”

He laughed softly, stopping once again in the middle of the path, near the river.

“Will you come to one of our concerts? They miss you, too. You were friend with Jiyong. It's not fair to him.”

You looked at him, eyes shadowed by what seemed like tears but was actually rain. A flash of lightning split the sky.

You smiled. You both acted like this was normal, but you knew you could not be friends again. It was fun to pretend.

“If the line is as long as for VIVARA…”

Shaking his head, he fumbled for his phone in his pocket.

“One call, that’s enough. I’ll give you the ticket you want.”

Cinnamon was happily shaking her tail next to you.

"Just call me, cheonsa. I'll always answer."

You both looked at each other. You both knew it was a lie.

The air suddenly grew colder.

“That’s not fair.”

He laughed. “It’s the perks of being the best friend of a famous rapper. Life’s unfair.”

A bolt of lightning tore across the sky. Cinnamon flinched and jumped in your arms. Seunghyun observed her tenderly.

You both stopped walking.

You looked at him properly for the first time in so many years.

He was still as familiar as before.

But something unfamiliar settled in your chest as you stared at him, wet hair, droplets rolling down his chin, rosy lips half-smiling and tender eyes.

The distance was so vast.

We believe that Coup de Foudre happens between strangers.

Then why is your heart racing for the first time ever looking at your old best friend?

"I guess I'll send it by mail," he murmured, breaking the silence. "Still got the same address?"

You nodded, unable to look away, glued to his dark eyes. He came closer. Lifted his hand. Wiped a raindrop from your cheek. Infinitely gently wrapped his arms around your body. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

Then, he pulled away.

♪

You sat alone in a sold-out stadium.

The lights dimmed. The crowd roared. VIVARA took the stage.

They sang Reverie.

In the back of your mind, you could hear his voice whispering: for life and for death.

But he wasn’t in the seat beside you.

He never was.

You learned from a friend the group tore apart. You imagined going to his apartment with a bass and snacks. Forcing him to watch you sing. Making him laugh. Forget.

You still have his jacket.

You still can’t listen to Limbs without crying.

Cinnamon still sleeps next to you every night.

The Coup de Foudre exists.

It’s not always beautiful.

Sometimes, it strikes only one person.

And it burns.

Forever.

sorry if it's rushed! I overestimated my planning skills.

tag list: @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @sevendaysummer @gdinthehouseee @eru-vande @bluesunss @emmiesoverthemoon @petersasteria @currentloser @makeitworse @berfgrimm @sherxoo @aizshallnotbefound @keiraryan

normal tag list: @michelllleee @breakmeoff

#player 230 #choi su bong x reader #thanos x reader #choi seunghyun #top #bigbang #seunghyun x reader #choi seunghyun x reader #top x reader #bigbangaprilchallenge #big bang x reader #t.o.p x reader #t.o.p bigbang #t.o.p.

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violettduchess · 10 months ago

Note

I would like to request Chevalier and the prompt lullaby!

A/N: Here you are, anon! This is an entry for me and @lorei-writes Sunshine and Starlight Creation Challenge.

Chevalier x Reader

tw: pregnancy, baby

WC: ~1k

Baby mine, don’t you cry / Baby mine, dry your eyes / Rest your head close to my heart / Never to part, baby of mine

The sun sets, running its pink and orange fingertips across the darkening sky. You lean further back in the cushioned rocking chair, resting your hands on the swell of your midsection, deeply content.

Chevalier had noticed how often the fresh air and view of the exquisite palace gardens seemed to soothe you when you felt ill or especially tired or when you just needed a moment away from the chaos of the day. He decided he would make sure to give you a comfortable way to enjoy the outdoor respite from the wide, stone balcony off your bedroom. Without informing you of his plan, he had commissioned an extraordinary rocking chair from a master woodworker, a man whose name was almost legendary throughout Rhodolite for his craftsmanship and attention to detail. In the end, he presented the king with a pale wooden rocker inlaid with soft, green velvet cushions and adorned with delicate carvings of roses and small garden creatures peeking out from behind the delicate petals. The king was pleased.

The rocking motion usually helps calm the restless baby stretching its limbs in its limited space, but tonight, despite the gentle rocking, it still continues its fidgety movements. “Oh, little one, what’s wrong?” With a sigh, you begin singing quietly, a song about treetops and cradles and breaking boughs, while rubbing over the spot on your bump that a tiny foot keeps insistently kicking.

You’re so lost in the moment that only the shifting of the shadows alerts you to the fact that Chevalier is there. He’s been watching you, head tilted as if studying a curious riddle or an interesting passage in a book. “Does singing really help calm the child?” Smiling while still continuing to sing, you reach out for him, taking his hand when he is within reach and placing it on your belly. Sure enough, the movement has slowed, the uneasy thrashing having faded away to a mild shifting of position. He glances from his hand to you, listening to the gentle sound of your singing. It seems he has more preparations to make.

Little one, when you play / Pay no heed what they say / Let your eyes sparkle and shine / Never a tear, baby of mine

He has many music books delivered to join his already impressive collection. Lullabies from Jade, Obsidian, Iolite, Benitoite, and Amber, just to name a few. His elegant fingers drift purposefully over piano keys, learning their melodies, the valleys and peaks of their notes. He can play them all impeccably, without sheet music, within a week. You watch him from the doorway of the sunlit music room, taking in the lines of his broad shoulders, the curve of his hands as they play, the fall of his pale hair across his forehead. As the last notes fade into nothingness, he turns to look at you. “And? Which children’s song do you think our child will favor?” He reads the expression that crosses your face before you can school it into something neutral. His lips turn down in a slight frown. “You’re not pleased.”

Sighing, you make your way over to the piano bench, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s not that. I think it’s really wonderful that you’ve learned so many songs for our baby.” He turns to look over his shoulder, blue eyes questioning. “But?” You give his strong shoulders a light squeeze, your baby bump brushing against his back. “It’s too perfect. Too practiced. A lullaby doesn’t have to be so flawless. It should come from the heart.”

Again a small frown. You answer it with a tender smile, cupping his cheek. “Nevermind. Our child is so very lucky to have such a thoughtful father.” You place a kiss right on the line of his cheekbone. “Come, let’s go and see what treasures the new delivery of books has for us.” Chevalier allows his wife to take his hand and pull him from the bench, but your words echo through his mind.

And suddenly, he knows what he must do.

If they knew all about you / They’d end up loving you, too / All those same people who scold you / What they’d give just for the right to hold you

Three Months Later

You’re in the exhausted, deep sleep of new parenthood. So tired that the natural, internal alarm that usually shakes you awake when your daughter cries doesn’t work. You remain in the dark void of dreamless slumber. Instead, it's Chevalier who pushes back the covers, crossing the darkened bedroom to where she is stirring, mewling like a kitten as she kicks her tiny legs. He reaches down into the white cradle, carefully lifting her out and with a glance at your sleeping form, gently lifts her to him, resting her against his shoulder before walking out onto the balcony and into the warm, summer night. Above, the stars twinkle, bright and diamond-like against an indigo sky. The scent of roses lingers in the air.

“You were fed not an hour ago, child.” He speaks softly as he lowers his long body into the rocking chair, one hand patting her little bottom. “And it seems everything is still dry.” She lets out a sigh, a shudder rolling through her as she wiggles in his arms. Chevalier begins rocking slowly back and forth, running his large hand up and down her small back. “Perhaps a song, hmm?”

Closing his eyes, he breathes in her newborn scent, still surprised by how comforting it is, how the feel of her in his arms fills his heart like an explosion of summer roses. Laying his cheek lightly against her downy hair, he starts singing, his voice low and tender like the warm wind through the branches of a willow tree.

“From your hair down to your toes / You’re not much, goodness knows / But you’re so precious to me / Sweet as can be, baby of mine.”

The words Clavis taught him, the very same lullaby his mother Leticia always sang when putting her golden-eyed son to bed, live on, drifting up into the summer sky to join the cavalcade of stars.

Note: The lullaby is from the movie Dumbo and you can find it here (have tissues ready)

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating

@portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing

@nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #ikemen chevalier #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #sunshineandstarlightcc #violettwrites #tw pregnancy #tw baby

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jenosbliss · 1 year ago

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hihi!! i love how u write the dreamies 💝 yk how people talk abt having a third place? could u write about how theyre ur third place please? (if that makes sense!!)

thank u if u do this!

🍯 ⌇nct dream ! being your third place

pairing. gn!reader x nctdream | genre. fluff | wc. 926 | warnings. none

MARK.

Mark wasn't the first boy to make your heart skip a beat, nor the one who ignited the wildfire of first love. He was like the sunrise after a restless night, the warmth of a shared cup of coffee in the morning.

His love wasn't a fireworks display, but a slow burn, a steady support that kept you cosy even on the coldest days. He was the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold when the world felt like it was spinning too fast.

Mark challenged you, pushed you to be your best self, even when you didn't believe in yourself. But beneath the driven exterior, there was a boy who loved fiercely, who wrote you clumsy poems and tucked wildflowers behind your ear. He was your cheerleader, your rock, your third place that felt a whole lot like first.

RENJUN.

Renjun wasn't the sun that blazed across your sky, but the moon that bathed your world in a soft, ethereal glow. His love was like a whispered melody woven from moonlight and starlight.

Renjun understood your silences, the unspoken worries that danced in your eyes. He could read your every mood in the curve of your smile, the tremor in your fingers. Hewas the confidante you never knew you needed, the one who listened without judgement, who offered solace with a gentle touch and a shared secret.

With Renjun, love wasn't a display, but a whispered promise, a bond of forever. He was the calm after the storm, a simple poem, your third place that felt like a whisper of forever.

JENO.

Jeno wasn't the wind that swept you off your feet, but the steady breeze that kept you grounded. He was the boy who held your hand through the darkness, his quiet strength a beacon in the unknown.

Jeno didn't need grand gestures to express his love. It was in the way he helped you carry groceries, the way he chased away your nightmares with a silent presence, the way he held your gaze. He was the quiet hero, the knight in shining armour who didn't need a parade.

With Jeno, love was a slow, steady burn, a fire that kept you warm from the inside out. He was the rock you could lean on, the lighthouse guiding you home, your third place that felt like an unbreakable promise.

HAECHAN.

Haechan wasn't the star that brightened your universe, but the playful comet that streaked across your sky, leaving a trail of laughter and stardust.

Haechan’s love was like sunshine and confetti, a melody that made you want to dance in the rain. He was the boy who turned every day into an adventure, who chased away your blues with a goofy grin and a contagious giggle.

Haechan taught you how to find joy in the little things, to laugh until your sides ached, to embrace the chaos with open arms. He was the reminder to never lose your inner child, to chase your dreams with reckless abandon, your third place that felt like a never-ending summer.

JAEMIN.

Jaemin wasn't the fairytale prince you swooned over, but the boy next door who held your hand under the streetlights. His love was a slow bloom, a promise written in shy glances and stolen kisses.

Jaemin was the one who made you believe in happily ever afters, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear under the starlit sky.He was the best friend who turned into something more, the shoulder to cry on who became your kiss in the rain.

Jaemin knew your favourite ice cream flavour, your deepest fears, the way your eyes sparkled when you were truly happy. He was the one who saw the beauty in your flaws, who cherished you for who you were, your third place that felt like falling in love all over again.

CHENLE.

Chenle wasn't the one who stole your breath away, but the one who poured you with impromptu tunes, his laughter filling the air like scattered notes. He was the sunshine after a thunderstorm, the sprinkle of sugar on a rainy day.

It was in the way Chenle hummed your favourite song while doing the dishes, the way he taught you silly dance moves in the kitchen, the way his eyes crinkled with mischief when he caught you off guard.

Chenle was the reminder to find joy in the simple things, to laugh until your stomach hurt, to dance like nobody was watching (even when they were). With him, love was like a pop song stuck on repeat, catchy and unforgettable. He was your third place that felt like an endless karaoke night, your heart forever warmed by the echoes of his laughter.

JISUNG.

Jisung’s love was a spark of electric energy, a playful banter that kept you on your toes. He was the one who challenged you to rap battles in the grocery store, who wrote you poems as funny as they were sweet, who could turn any dull moment into a cherished and beautiful one.

Jisung didn't shy away from expressing his feelings, but did it in his own unique way. He wrote you songs, baked you cookies shaped like hearts with funny uneven icing, told you you were beautiful with a smirk and a wink.

With Jisung, love wasn't a slow burn, but a firework display, each moment an explosion of laughter, joy and passion .He was the spark that ignited your own, the energy that propelled you forward, He was your third place that felt like a nonstop roller coaster ride.

a/n. hii anon i hope this is what you expected and Tysm for requesting 💖

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

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freesia-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Ch 5: A Heart to Heart

GUEST WRITER!! This chapter comes to us courtesy of @letsquestjess!! 🥹💕

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 1.8k

“Hey, look, the lunar blossom has started falling,” Wrecker said, motioning to the path ahead where the overhanging hedges had shed their sleek silver petals over the low wall and onto the cobblestone. Some had been torn by birds in search of nesting material and others were slimed over in a glistening gunk by soft, slow-moving insects. “It’ll be festival time soon.”

Omega remained quiet, gaze downcast and fixated on the few scuff marks that marred her school shoes.

“Kid?” He intentionally slowed down, hoping she would speak to him, but she kept her silence, avoiding both him and the muted foliage. “We’ll come this way later in the week and collect some blossoms for your festival crown, if you want. Last year’s looked great, but I reckon we can make an even better one this year.”

Gripping her backpack straps until her knuckles paled, she muttered an inaudible reply and shook her head. For a stomach-sinking moment, Wrecker swore he glimpsed tears, her lashes preventing the dam from breaking and the determined set of her jaw holding them at bay.

“Omega, are you all right? Is something wrong?”

He caught the meager “I’m fine” before she turned away, hunching her shoulders to conceal her face. He knew she was far from fine, but her shrinking demeanor begged him not to push the subject. Despite his concern, he refrained from asking further. Whatever was bothering her, she would approach her brothers in her own time, as she usually did.

Raising a little sister and shielding her from harm had presented its own challenges, but a sense of accomplishment swelled within him, knowing they had provided her with unwavering care and encouragement during difficult times. Watching the downtrodden expression fill her eyes, however, he began to wonder if any of that was true. Had the support not been enough? Should they do more? Were they failing her?

It was unusual for her to withdraw like this; she always faced any hardship undaunted and defiant. Now, she looked as though the burden had grown too much. If it were possible, he would have lightened the load as she confronted the adversity blocking her path. He’d toil night and day to forge her a happy future, even travel the galaxy to bring her a handful of pure starlight if she needed it, all while bearing her troubles on his back.

After settling on the picturesque world, his brothers had convened to discuss how they would raise her, intending to present a united, stable front considering the tumultuous life she’d had. They had agreed that they would give her independence to handle her problems as she saw best, only stepping in if she was in immediate danger or if she directly asked them to. But it was proving difficult for the towering clone who just wanted to smack every obstacle out of her way and see that sunshine smile of hers again.

“How about we take the trail up to school today?” he suggested.

At the idea, Omega’s pinched expression relaxed and her distant gaze drifted to her brother. “We wouldn’t be late?”

“Course not. We left earlier than usual, so we have plenty of time.”

Omega ruminated on the plan, the birdsong-tickled calm and the mint-scented wildflowers calling to her, promising a refuge, a pocket of solace to soothe her apprehension and dispel her unease. “You’re sure we won’t be late?”

“Totally sure.” Wrecker gave her his signature hopeful smile and pointed her towards the signposted turn that ascended into the forest. “After you.”

Lulling birdsong welcomed them beneath the leafy canopy. Tiny, bushy-tailed creatures scurried down the tree trunks on delicate paws to steal quick glances at the passers-by and dash to their cozy dens. A spirited one scampered across their path and slid to a halt in the dry dirt in front of them, gazing up with curious, unblinking eyes. Ears twitching back and forth and sensing for danger, it wriggled its nose, let out a chirp, and hurried on its way again.

“I bet Tech could tell us all the scientific names for those little critters,” Wrecker commented. “He’s probably mapped out this entire forest.”

“Not all of it,” Omega replied. “I think he said he has the eastern reaches and some parts of the river to check.”

He glanced at his sister and noticed the blot of dirt on her coat. While no longer as dejected, there was still a persisting hopelessness in her slouched walk and occasional watery eyelashes that troubled him. “You know, if there’s something on your mind, you can share it,” he said. “A problem shared is a problem halved.” He felt impressed with his recall of such a profound (and somewhat ridiculous) phrase.

“Tech would disagree with the calculations on that.”

In a throaty chortle, Wrecker was forced to concede. Their brother had undoubtedly analyzed every outcome associated with the proverb to verify its validity. “Okay, I’ll admit that it probably isn’t totally accurate, but the point still stands.”

Omega went to speak, but the words hung heavy and tangled in the back of her throat. How could she explain what had been going on? Would Wrecker be disappointed in her? Would he be mortified?

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to,” he assured her as she nervously wrung her hands and scratched at her palms.

“It’s just some trouble I’ve been having at school,” she explained with an apathetic shrug, seeking to downplay the situation. She dithered for a moment, not wanting to add to his worries, but she needed to share the ongoing problems with someone, if only for a new perspective and guidance, since her own attempts had proven futile. “My friends have started getting into things that I don’t think are good. No matter how many times I try discussing it with them, they laugh and throw insults at me.”

All humor evaporated from the former soldier quicker than steam off a fresh cup of caf. His expression darkened and a sickening roil nestled in his gut. “I can talk to your teachers about it. They have a duty of care.”

“No, no, that would only make things worse.” Omega’s shoulders sagged, burdened by the weight of struggling to support the people she cared about. “I’m not sure what I did wrong. I was trying to look out for them.” Like you and the others always do for me, she left unsaid.

“You have done nothing wrong,” Wrecker promised. “Some choose not to listen because they are convinced their actions are correct or because they want to look a certain way. They don’t think about consequences like you do.” He wished he had a solution for her problem, but he could never truly understand what she was going through, never having had the chance to navigate the difficulties of adolescence. He was denied the opportunity to make those messy errors and grow from them.

“If you wanted,” he whispered in a low tone so that the scampering wildlife wouldn’t overhear, “I can beat them up.”

Omega’s focus locked onto him like a laser from a sniper rifle, noting the firm tilt of his chin and the tightness in his jaw. Despite the half-smile pressing into his facial scar, she recognised the sincerity in his eyes. His offer would not resolve her problems. If anything, it would only present her with new ones, and she didn’t want her friends to be harmed. That was the exact thing she was striving to avoid. But they persisted in testing the boundaries, daring each other to take things a step further, and she couldn’t shake the gnawing intuition that a terrible repercussion awaited them.

“I’ve not been doing anything stupid, I promise,” she rushed to get out, her heart pounding and the parched mud crunching beneath her shoes as she abruptly halted. “I wouldn’t… I haven’t…”

“Omega,” Wrecker hushed. He crouched down to her, a sickly discomfort sticking in his chest at the thought that she’d believe he held such a poor opinion of her.

“I have no idea what to do,” the girl admitted through a trickle of tears. “I’m scared I’ll end up alone.”

Wrecker’s hands settled on her arms, applying a gentle yet firm pressure to assure her of his presence. “Kid, you are not on your own. You’ve got your family who would do anything to make you happy. If your friends are doing things you aren’t sure about and are making you feel bad, they’re not good friends.”

Although the truth stung, she understood, but this was an issue that tactics and strategic planning wouldn’t fix. It wasn't a battle with a clear enemy; it was a tangled web of trouble and conflicting interests. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to mention it to the others?”

“Course.”

“Some of them have been talking about boys… and other things. And the ones who have boyfriends have told me that if I want to fit in, I have to find someone or I’ll wind up on my own forever. But I…I don’t even know how I feel about that stuff yet.”

Wrecker didn’t need to ask for specifics; he could assume all too well what they would have been discussing. “Listen to me, Omega, you do things at your own pace. Okay? Doesn’t matter how old you get, if you are ever in a situation you are uncomfortable with, you can count on us. It’s what family does.” He couldn’t have been more proud of her if he’d tried. She had faced terrifying monsters, and an Empire that ceaselessly sought to deprive her of everything, yet she never wavered. The mere thought of those pushy kids getting to her like this after all her brave battles ignited an irate frustration within him, and he grappled to bury it for her sake.

When his sister gave him a sliver of a smile, Wrecker returned it and lightly nudged her nose with his fingertip. “That’s what I like to see,” he said, pushing on his thighs to hoist himself up again. “You ready to carry on?”

Omega nodded and wiped the lingering tears, lifting her chin a little higher. “I’ll race you,” she challenged.

Wrecker let free a boisterous laugh that rose from his toes and vibrated in his ribs. “Oh, I’m game!” he whooped. “Go on, I’ll give you a head start!”

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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problems-exe · 7 months ago

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do u have any paperlux/firecolor headcanons.. (either printerjam au or the "original" versions)

I do!! :D

These all apply to both the printerjamau versions as well as the originals :]

☆ Lux really likes baking, and after meeting PJ, she takes up the challenge of trying to find a way to bake things for them. She develops a passion for messing around with different art supplies and combining them to make various snacks for PJ. One thing she commonly makes for them is little faux chocolates that she makes by melting crayons into a mold like these,

☆ They're both incredibly easy to fluster. Lux often manages to make PJ blush intentionally, whilst PJ makes Lux blush unintentionally all the time. Lux can flirt if she's given herself a pep talk, whilst PJ cannot flirt to save their life. They're terrible at it. PJ makes up for it by saying some of the most romantic things imaginable without even thinking about it. Like calling Lux beautiful at random moments because they think she looks pretty and they want her to know.

☆ Lux is a lot better at coming up with pet names for PJ than they are for Lux, at least at first. It takes PJ a while to grasp the concept of pet names. The first real pet name that PJ came up with for Lux was “Violet”. Because purple is PJ’s favorite color and purple tastes sweet and Lux is sweet. Very creative of them, I know. They do come up with more over time, though. They also both have a knack for coming up with silly names for eachother.

Here are a few pet names that I imagine they call each other!

What PJ calls Lux:

• Violet

• Bun

• Sunshine

• Firecracker

• Burnt Marshmallow

What Lux calls PJ:

• Starlight

• Sweetheart

• Darling

• Brush

• Microsoft Paint

☆ I like to imagine that Lux likes to pick up and carry PJ sometimes, whether from place to place or just to pick them up and spin them around.

☆ PJ isn't super great with their words, but they're great at giving gifts to show appreciation. I like the idea that Lux's most treasured notebook is one that PJ gave her and customized.

☆ PJ draws/paints Lux all the time; they often keep the drawings to themselves, but they like to doodle her when they're bored. And in return, Lux writes poetry about PJ quite often. PJ has only read a few of them.

As always,

Original Paperjam belongs to @/7goodangel

Original Lux belongs to AlainaPrana

Printerjamau variants belong to me :)

#asks.exe #bluepr1ntyy #printerjamau #paperjam #lux #firecolor #paperlux #thank you so much for the question!!!!#I'm always happy to talk about them :)#the first headcanon is one I think about more often than I should #I've even doodled something for it before #I might post it eventually

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peachsupremeart · 2 years ago

Text

Coming right back at ya for another year of kirby themed prompts, it’s Kirbytober! Feel free to tag along, just be sure to tag your creations with #kirbytober2023! Don't worry about doing every prompt, just be creative! I'll also be doing this challenge on my art blog, @peachsupremeart! Have Fun!!

Written list is under the cut:

1. Together Again

2. Starlight

3. Bubbly

4. Pink

5. Favorite Enemy

6. Garden

7. Sunshine

8. Crystal

9. Soaring

10. Favorite Copy Ability

11. Delicious

12. Helper

13. Drizzle

14. Nightmare

15. Favorite Remake

16. Dimension

17. Festival

18. Knight

19. Teardrops

20. Favorite Episode

21. Fresh

22. Mechanical

23. Glitter

24. Classic

25. Favorite Song

26. Snowfall

27. Darkness

28. Butterfly

29. Crossover

30. Wish

31. Freebie

#kirbytober #kirbytober2023 #kirby #inktober #prompt list #meta knight #king dedede #bandana waddle dee

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eventinelysplayground · 10 months ago

Text

This is my second entry for @violettduchess and @lorei-writes Sunshine & Starlight challenge. Did I write this rather then finishing my other wip that I really need to...maybe lol. I'd honestly been toying with the very basic idea of this for a very long time but could never think of anything to really do with it then this idea came into my head and I ran with it. I used the sunshine prompt watching clouds and the starlight prompt constellations. Two friends spend time reminiscing and hoping that the other is safe and happy. Pure fluff WC approx 1155.

Across Time

Mitsuki lay outside on a blanket watching the clouds as they floated by on a summer breeze.

“Look Arthur, that one looks like a star.”

“Well spotted luv, that one there looks like a necktie.”

“Oh that one looks like Vic!”

Mitsuki pointed to a grouping of vaguely lump shaped clouds and Arthur laughed.

“I think Vic would disagree with you on that.”

Mitsuki looked over at Arthur and couldn't help but laugh.

“Hey it's the best I could do, blame the clouds.”

They continued laughing and talking about what clouds looked like for some time.

“That one looks like a teddy bear.”

Mitsuki stopped laughing and grew unusually quiet.

“Are you alright luv?”

“Hmmm?”

“You'd gone quiet on me.”

“Sorry.”

Mitsuki turned her head to look at Arthur briefly before turning her attention back to the clouds.

“What you said just made me think of a friend of mine who I hadn't thought about in awhile.”

Mitsuki felt Arthur's fingers glide over her cheek.

“Sorry luv, I didn't mean to upset you.”

Mitsuki shook her head.

“No, it's all right. I'm actually kind of hopeful now.”

Mitsuki sat up and drew her knees up to her chest while Arthur turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

“We met in school and became fast friends. We used to be inseparable when we were younger and did everything together. Even through high school we were really close. She made me a dress once, it was so pretty and I loved it so much!”

A bright smile lit up Mitsukis face before she furrowed her eyebrows together.

“After school we grew apart, our lives just went in different directions. We still made time to see eachother every so often but…”

Mitsuki's voice trailed off her eyes following the teddy bear shaped cloud.

“But then something happened to her? Something that meant you never saw her again?”

Mitsuki nodded.

“The last time I saw her she showed me a teddy bear she made, Bersace.”

Mitsuki turned to face Arthur and she had a small smile on her face.

“She was going for an interview in two days for her dream job. She made it to the interview but then she went missing. I was worried about her but even after a few months we hadn't heard anything and the police found no traces of her or foul play, it was like she just vanished.”

“Sounds likely that's also what the police would have said about you.”

“Exactly!”

“I suppose it's possible.”

“You don't think it's silly of me?”

“Not one bit.”

Arthur sat up and took Mitsukis hands.

“There's nothing wrong with you wanting your friend to have traveled through a door somewhere, gone back in time or forwards even and found an incredibly handsome man who she's fallen madly in love with. Course he'd never be as dashing or clever as I am but-”

Mitsuki let out a laugh.

“Of course not!"

She squeezed his hands lightly before he leaned in and quickly kissed her.

“Thank you Arthur.”

“Anytime love.”

While Mitsuki and Arthur spent the afternoon gazing at the clouds, a different scene was unfolding across oceans and time itself.

“There you are my little mouse.”

Mai turned her head in the direction of her husband's familiar voice and smiled.

“Welcome back.”

Mai craned her neck upwards as Mitsuhide bent down towards her, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

“Were you having difficulty sleeping again?”

Mai nodded as Mitsuhide ran a hand over her extended belly.

“They insisted on exercising instead of sleeping so I came out here to look at the stars and constellations.”

“And did you find anything interesting amongst the stars?”

“Not really, astronomy was never a strong point for me so I've just been making up my own designs with them.”

“How entertaining that sounds, come here my wife”

Mai smiled at Mitsuhide who had sat across from her and opened his arms wide for her. She slowly and carefully shuffled herself across the veranda and leaned against Mitsuhide’s firm chest his arms closing securely around her and enfolding her in his warmth.

“See those stars there, they look like a tree. And those over there look like a dog.”

Mai moved her finger pointing to different groupings of stars and excitedly describing to Mitsuhide what they looked like.

“Oh that one looks like an airplane!”

Mai's expression deflated and she brought her hand to rest on Mitsuhide's arm.

“You're troubled, something about this air-plain disturbs you.”

Mai shook her head.

“No not really, it just made me think of a friend of mine back in the future.”

“Oh?”

“Remember when I first arrived here, and I told you about my dream of making clothes for people?”

“Yes, you were inspired by your friend's happiness at what you made them.”

“Well that friend, she writes a travel blog and she travels all around the world.”

“Using this air-plain?”

“Yes! Not her own of course they're too expensive but…”

Mai trailed off for a moment, becoming lost in her thoughts which Mitsuhide watched as they played across her face. After a while he kissed her softly on her ear.

“I’m certain your friend would not want you to become sad while thinking of her.”

“Probably not, I saw her just before everything happened. We went to lunch and I told her all about my interview and introduced her to Bersace, she told me all about a trip to Paris she had just planned for a few months from then.”

Mai smiled at the memory of lunch with her friend but the concern she felt showed through her eyes.

“There is no need to worry about your friend, she is most likely safe in the future enjoying herself.”

“I hope you're right.”

“And that a worm hole hole did not follow her to Paris.”

Mai laughed as Mitsuhide placed a kiss on her neck.

“Yes that too. If a wormhole did follow her though, I hope she’s happy and that she found someone she loves there.”

“Another warlord perhaps?”

“No. Maybe just a nice regular guy like a florist, or a doctor, or an artist oh, or maybe a wealthy aristocrat or his prim and proper butler!”

“I thought you said you wanted your friend to be happy?”

Mai turned and gave Mitsuhide a quizzical look.

“Those options all sound incredibly boring.”

“Haha, you would think that! Well as long as she doesn't fall for somebody who's super serious or a clean freak, or worse a flirtatious playboy or even worse yet a kitsune who can read her mind and likes to tease her.”

Mai smiled teasingly at Mitsuhide.

“That last one does sound like quite a lot of fun but they are in short supply, so I'm afraid your friend would have to settle for the flirtatious playboy.”

Mai shook her head and began to laugh before Mitsuhide sealed it away with a kiss.

#sunshineandstarlightcc #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikevamp mitsuki #ikesen mai #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikesen mitsuhide

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or13m · 1 month ago

Text

Feline Feelings, a FNaF story chapter 013

In hindsight, you really, really should have known better.

In fact, looking back on it, you realized it had been painfully obvious that something suspicious was going on. Sun had practically thrown you out of the daycare…again. “SEE YOU TOMORROW, SUNSHINE! BYE-BYE NOW!” still echoed in your ears before he’d slammed the door shut in your face. Moon had just stood there in the shadows, entirely too amused and giving you a lazy wave and smirk as if to mock you.

Your curiosity had finally outgrown your anxiety.

So you, being clever (but not clever enough, apparently), decided to double back after a few minutes. You tiptoed down the hallway, knowing that the two daycare attendants always left for the maintenance area after the daycare closed. Moon had let that slip about a couple weeks into working with them. Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the slightly ajar door, nudging it open–

–and immediately freezing in disbelief.

Inside–beneath the fluorescent lighting–were Sun and Moon’s towering animatronic bodies. They stood completely motionless, optics dark and lifeless. Directly in front of them, sitting on the table and staring back at you, were two extremely familiar kitten bots–one golden, shrinking back into himself in total horror, and the other dark-blue, radiating pure, smug amusement.

“Oh,” you whispered, voice faint from shock. “Oh my god…”

Sun–the tiny golden menace–let out a small, panicked mewl before frantically trying to hide his face beneath trembling metal paws. His ears flattened so completely against his skull that they nearly vanished into the rest of his gleaming form.

Moon, however, didn’t even pretend to be guilty. He sat there–all pride and self-satisfaction–red optics staring you down like he was issuing you a challenge. You could practically hear him thinking, ‘Took you long enough.’

You jabbed a shaking finger back and forth between the motionless animatronics and the tiny kittens. “You–you two have been–this whole time?!”

Sun shrank further, meowing pitifully. Moon’s tail swished happily behind him, delighted and unapologetic.

Before your brain could even attempt to recover from this sudden reality-shattering revelation, a snort of laughter sounded directly behind you. You spun around, heart leaping into your throat before spotting Cassie. She leaned casually against the doorframe, tablet in hand and an amused smirk plastered to her face.

“Oh,” she drawled, taking in the chaotic scene with undisguised joy. “You finally caught them, huh?”

Your voice cracked, “Caught them? Wait–you knew about this?!”

The dark-haired woman gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe,” her voice was full of barely-contained laughter boiling just beneath the surface.

Sun bolted for your leg, pawing desperately at your ankle. Frantic meows slipped from his feline mouth and you just knew that he was pleading for mercy at your feet. Moon, losing patience with the dramatics, tilted his sleek little head toward Cassie, optics glowing brighter.

The mechanic rolled her eyes at his expectant gaze. Tapping quickly on her tablet, she huffed, “Alright, fine. Voices on.”

Moon instantly took advantage of whatever new switch that had been flipped, his eyes narrowing into delighted slits. “Well, hello again, Starlight,” he purred in his usual deep rasp.

You nearly leapt straight out of your skin, hands flying to your mouth. “OH MY GOD, YOU CAN TALK?!”

Sun made a small, miserable static-filled whimper. “Moon, I blame you entirely.”

His lunar counterpart ignored him, leaping off the desk in a graceful arc with practice ease. He met your wide-eyed stare with an amused flick of his tail. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“No, I’m not!” you managed to squeak out, voice high-pitched and heart racing beneath your ribs. “I am having a complete mental breakdown right now!”

Cassie promptly doubled over laughing at your admission. It seemed she had reached her breaking point as tears streamed down her face. “Oh my god! This is even better than I imagined!”

“Cassie, please–please stop laughing,” Sun begged in glitched static, utterly miserable by this unexpected turn of events.

She only lost it more at that, clinging to the doorframe as she wheezed. Moon sat back, proud of the chaos he’d so expertly orchestrated.

Burying your burning face in your hands–voice muffled–you groaned, “I really should’ve known better…”

If it was even possible, Moon’s obnoxious attitude intensified. “Yes,” he agreed smoothly. “You really should have.”

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moonstruck-writing · 10 months ago

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Bonfire Night [Luke Randolph x reader]

Title: Bonfire Night Pairing: Luke Randolph x gn!reader | Ikemen Prince Rating: G C/Ws: fluff, established relationship, Modern world AU, Canon Divergent, gender neutral reader, reader is not MC, second person pov, bonfire, summer night Summary: You and Luke go to a bonfire at night in the park Word count: 1.2k A/N: I wanted to write this for la noche de San Juan (Saint John’s Eve, June 24th) <3 it’s a bit late but here is my entry for the Sunshine & Starlight challenge hosted by @violettduchess and @lorei-writes (prompt: bonfire)

Your hand felt warm and secure in Luke’s as he guided you through the crowd. It was hot, but the night air brought a gentle breeze that eased your skin and ignited your anticipation. The grass of the park felt fluffy under your sneakers, and once you reached a less crowded patch, Luke turned back to look at you.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You looked to the stands and nodded, resuming your walk. Once there, you ordered soft drinks and paid separately. You chose to be served in a sturdy plastic cup with messages on the surface. Even if it was slightly more expensive than the regular one-use cup that Luke picked, you wanted to keep that memento.

“Let’s go sit down,” you said as you started walking away from the stand. Luke followed you and when you decided on a place, he gave you his cup to hold onto. He then took off the flannel shirt he had tied to his waist and laid it on the ground for you to sit on it. “Thank you, Luke.” You said as you passed him his drink and sat down, scooting over, so there was enough space for him, too.

He snuggled next to you, the side of his leg and torso rubbing against yours. Then, he touched his cup to yours in a silent toast. You two took a sip and looked around at the lively park. It was truly a sight that only happened on St. John’s Eve.

He leaned his forearms on his bent knees and looked to your side, hiding his mouth on his arm. You noticed he was staring, and looked at him smiling.

There was something about the way the air was gently rustling the loose strands of hair around his face, the ones that no matter what he did, always refused to be tied into the half updo he sometimes did. Or perhaps it was the glimmer in his eyes, despite the darkness of the park at night. The way he silently looked at you, but somehow, words were not necessary as you took in his expression.

You could feel the warmth of his skin against your leg, and a whiff of his scent mixed with his cologne tickled your nose. Your senses were overflowing with him, creating a world for the two of you.

He reached towards you to pull away from your face a strand of hair the breeze was playing with. Before he pulled back, his hand lightly traced the shell of your ear. You placed the cup in front of your lips to hide the smile his kind gesture gave you.

“We could go to that place we love after this,” Luke suggested after taking a mouthful from his cup. “It’s nearby.”

“The one that makes honey eggplant?” You said, remembering Luke’s satisfied face every time you ate that dish.

“Yes, those slices are always so crispy and delicious, it feels like I’m eating a sweet heaven.” His eyes looked dreamy, as if he was already tasting it.

You chuckled lightly. Oh, how Luke loved his honey. That reminded you of something, and after giving him your drink to hold, you rummaged inside your belt pouch.

“Here, for you.” You took your drink from him and gave your other hand to Luke, closed in a fist, to which he responded by placing his open palm under it. What fell to it was a honey lemon candy. His favourites. “I’m not sure if we’ll get to eat the honey eggplant, I have a feeling the places around here will all be packed.”

Luke’s smile went from wide to a pout, to smiling again when he reached for your tummy and pulled you into the space between his legs. You squealed, worried he was going to make you spill your drinks. Once safe in his embrace, you hurriedly gulped down the soft drink. The iciness travelling down your throat seemed to calm the heat on your cheeks.

“Thanks for the candy,” he said, and then bit on the edge of the cup to free his hands to unwrap the sweet. You weren’t ready for the way he looked when you turned back: biting into the plastic, his jaw tensing with the effort, his lips gracing the edge… you took his cup to distract you from that sight that would now be burnt in the back of your mind.

He finally placed the candy on his tongue and smiled at you. Then he squeezed you between his arms and leaned his chin on your shoulder. You turned to peek at him and when he winked at you, you pecked him on the cheek.

At that moment, the crowd roared, and you saw the bonfire being lit. Luke held you tightly against his chest as you watched the flames and smoke dancing through the air. You felt a different type of warmth there, safe between his arms.

“Do you want to throw anything into the fire?” You asked, leaning your arms against his knees.

“Like what?” He whispered into your ear before kissing it.

“Regrets. You know, people write on pieces of paper and throw it to be burned.” You finished the contents of your cup and placed his inside the empty one, freeing one of your hands to trace idle figures on his knee.

“Like when you break up with someone?” He hummed and you nodded against him. “No, there’s nothing I want to make disappear right now. I like my life. This.” He nuzzled his nose against your neck, and you caressed the back of his head.

In this universe, Luke watched the bonfire calmly, even joyfully, as he breathed in your scent. There was nothing that had been taken away from him, and nothing he wanted to bury in ashes. There was only the blaze that you created inside his heart, and the quiet passion he had for life.

He chewed on the honey lemon candy, cracking it. He could see your profile lit by the flames, shadows moving across your skin. Something about the way your eyes were fixed on the bonfire made him think he would never forget this moment.

“Do you have anything to throw into that fire?” He asked back, leaning forward slightly, to take a better look at your expression. You turned to him, light shining in your eyes before the joy you felt broke into a smile.

“No, not anymore.” You breathed in the night air. “Even my past regrets and mistakes are something I cherish now. They led me to you.”

Luke’s attentive eyes and easy smile dissolved into a pout of affection as your words made their way into his heart. He snuggled you ever so closely to him, wanting to imprint into your body all the love he felt for you.

The memory of that night would be peppered with kisses shared in secret, between shadows and flames. Kisses the rest of the world was oblivious to, but that were proof of the incessant fire of your love, a fire that could never be put out, for it burned in the deepest parts of your souls.

Fin

I hope you enjoyed it <3 Interactions and comments/tags are highly appreciated and helpful <3

Masterlist | AO3

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay! Characters belong to their rightful owners, the plot and content here belongs to @moonstruck-writing

#sunshineandstarlightcc #luke randolph #ikepri luke #ikepri fanfic #ikemen prince luke #ikemen prince fanfiction #luke randolph x reader #luna writes #luna writes fanfiction

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crepesuzette2023 · 1 year ago

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Hi, I was wondering if you have recs where Paul ignores and freezes John? Thanks a lot!

Thank you for asking, and sorry for being so late with my reply. I hope this is still useful to you.

This is a fascinating request. It made me realize that most fics I know focus on John freezing out Paul (with or without pining)—the reasons for that would probably be worth a separate post. So: challenging ask, thank u very much.

I also kept coming back to the way you worded it—ignores and freezes. That's highly specific, if you think about it! It includes an edge of pain and cold anger, almost something unnatural: a decision to freeze, to numb, to refuse to see the other (Look At Me...).

It also feels final—or, at the very least, final-in-the-moment. How to separate this from fics in which they're broken up, not talking™, misunderstanding each other, are mad at each other (but only as a prelude to making up)...?

Does it also rule out fics in which they're not together, or fighting, or breaking-up-but-still-obsessed...never got together...?

As you can see, I might have been overthinking this, just a tad. :-) But here are some stories that, hopefully, fit your ask to varying degrees.

The wild and windy night (@zilabee) must have been one of the first J/P stories I read, and I guess I memory-wiped just how brutal (and damn good, because: true) it is. This is about mutual attempts at freezing and severing, and brace yourself: it's going to hurt. But it lands in a hopeful place. Cathartic. (Sorry, everyone, for never including it with any of my angst recs; I honestly must have decided to tuck this one away in a specially secured room reserved for the strongest stuff.)

How do you sleep (LouisWain1939) was the first fic I thought of reading your ask. If you want freezing cold, this is it. Prompt-fill for: Paul wanks to HDYS (optional: he phones John as he does it to make John listen). I love it.

you and i have memories (@midchelle). Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU. John is the first to opt for the removal of Paul memories, but Paul follows suit. Unfinished, but what a premise—and it's rendered so convincingly...! Treepanning+

open heart (@revollver): Vampire AU. Paul feels ashamed of how much he needs John, and refuses to open up to him. Hot and sensual and sad in exactly right proportions—with an unexpected dark and satisfying ending.

I'm gonna haunt you (sexysadie): 1968. An ice cold conversation between John and Paul in a pub.

Coast Starlight (bookofapril) The best canon divergence of all, in which Paul is happy with Robert Fraser (and, sometimes, Linda) in the 70's, and John is a slightly annoying shadow from the past. John is frozen out in absentia, in a wonderful Paul/Elton John conversation on Fire Island.

The Death of a bachelor (wavesof_joy): Modern AU. Paul gets married in Vegas...and it's too late to elope with John.

Here are two stories centered on the 1966-1967 "Paul refuses to trip with John" era — maybe a bit of a reach for the ask, but I'm thinking: John wants to get in, and Paul appears distant...baautiful, but not quite real...either way, these are both excellent, so enjoy: Sunday Driver (@boshemians; excellent Tara Browne cameo) and Chrysalis (cloudy_blue).

And finally, your ask made me think of two (three?) stories in which Paul freezes out John temporarily for trauma/pain/misunderstanding reasons: Brother Dearest (@javelinbk) and The Cast Iron Shore and its sequel, The Reeperbahn, by @m1ssunderstanding. In the first, John and Paul are stepbrothers as well as lovers. At first, they dislike each other, and later there is a heartbreaking break-up for your ignoring-each-other needs. The second is an AU in which Paul works as a 'rent boy' to support his abusive father, and starts a messy and intense relationship with John, leading them and their band from Liverpool to Hamburg. John and Paul love each other, but do they trust the other loves them back? No. Missunderstandings indeed—deeply painful in places—off the charts pining—and plenty of great Hamburg Beatles in action scenes...!

That's all I can think of for now—perhaps others can chime in with additional recs? (@whenyourbirdisbroken, @crumblingcookies? Tagging you because you have vast fic memories!)

I hope you will enjoy these, anon!

#asks #Paul freezes John out and ignores him fic recs #fic recs #mclennon #mclennon fic recs #mclennon fanfiction

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kaizoku-musume · 10 months ago

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Lunar Phase

This was written for the Sunshine & Starlight challenge that @violettduchess and @lorei-writes created. I felt like it was finally time for Aurelia to feature in one of these.

Fandom: Ikepri

Prompt: Full Moon

Word count: 2k

Yves swiped at his eyes, but his tears were long gone. Aurelia had led him to the outdoor sitting area after she found him crying in the kitchen; she went to return to the castle for something, leaving him alone with the moon and his thoughts. He really should be getting to bed-his eyes must already look awful and it was only going to get worse the longer he stayed up. He’d have to apply a warm compress and a good bit of makeup in the morning. But there was something about turning Aurelia down that was terrifying, honestly.

Oh, speak of the-no, that was mean, and besides, there were others more deserving of the title (despite how similar she was to Nokto). Aurelia was coming back, carrying a tray of tea with her. Yves should get up and help her, but the surreality of the situation kept him seated. Aurelia was wearing a surprisingly modest set of pajamas considering her usual attire (a very cute nightdress that covered her chest and legs and wasn’t sheer at all) and bringing him tea. The situation was weirdly domestic compared to how Aurelia was in the light of day.

So he sat in stunned silence until Aurelia joined him, setting the tray on the table and taking a seat next to him. “I finally have a chance to show off my tea making skills,” she said as she poured them both a cup.

“You made this?” Yves asked. He winced at his rudeness. Obviously, she must have, since none of the servants were awake at this time. It was just that Aurelia had this, well, aura about her. Like she was more fitted for royalty than most of Yves’ own brothers. The idea of her never having to lift a finger to get what she wanted suited her more than anyone else yves had ever met.

Aurelia graciously ignored his faux pas. “Of course, herbal tea is my specialty,” she even handed him his cup. What was going on? Was it just that she was feeling bad for him?

Despite being suspicious, Yves took a cautionary sip. He couldn’t help the surprised, delighted sound he made when the flavour burst across his tongue. It was sweet, with just the right undercurrent of citrus, the two complimenting each other well. The soft floral scent tickled his nose when he lifted the cup to his mouth.

“Chamomile and lemon,” Aurelia informed, the picture of perfect poise as she drank her own tea. “Useful for when you’re trying to get a good night’s rest.” So it was pity. It was the same when she’d manipulated the court into being more accepting of Yves in spite of his half-Obsidian bloodline. He should probably be more upset than he was, shouldn’t he? But he was mentally drained and physically exhausted, and it was so much easier to drink this delicious tea.

“I’d tell you the recipe, but I’m afraid it’s a trade secret,” Aurelia said with a somewhat conspiratorial air, “Though I may be convinced to make a trade. Say, one recipe for another? Of course, I don’t mind if you want to visit me whenever you want a cup. I heard it’s good for your health if you see a pretty face every day.” She winked and Yves sputtered, miraculously not making a mess.

Aurelia didn’t bat an eye and began chatting about inconsequential things, carrying on a largely one-sided conversation that Yves could freely listen to as he slowly came back to himself. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to notice that Aurelia wasn’t mentioning his breakdown from earlier at all. This was, in fact, the most normal discussion Aurelia had with him since they’d met. So of course Yves had to ruin it by blurting out, “Aren’t you going to talk about it?”

Ugh, why did he always put his foot in his mouth? Today was such a disaster, and he was the one who kept making it worse. He fidgeted under her cool gaze, Aurelia seemingly unfazed by the disaster in front of her. “What should I say?” she asked, voice gentler than the words themselves suggested, “Should I pretend I don’t know what caused you to be upset and ask about it? Offer you platitudes like ‘you shouldn’t hate yourself because you’re a good person’ and ‘one day you’ll feel better’?” She tilted her head, her smile knowing but not unkind. “Does any of that ever help?”

Well . . . no, no, not really. If Yves is being honest, while he appreciated the sentiment (and the people who tried to cheer him up), those words had always rang . . . hollow. It was easy to say he should like himself or that things will get better, but Yves had been trying to do that his whole life and hasn’t gotten very far. How much harder does he have to work at it? When did things get better?

Aurelia was watching him like she could read his mind. “I don’t like wasting my breath on pointless words,” she refilled her cup, “Well-meaning words that sound nice but have nothing to back them up are incapable of bringing about change. You can;t like yourself when someone tells you you’re good if you don’t think you’re good enough. People rarely hate themselves because it makes sense to do so.”

There was something there in what Aurelia was saying that Yves almost couldn’t believe, a self-assurance that he would only expect from people in the same situation as him. It was hard to put his finger on it, because Aurelia usually sounded self-assured, but it was different. Just ten minutes ago, Yves would have said that was impossible. But here she was, sitting next to him in regular pajamas, sharing tea she had made herself, and Yves wouldn’t have predicted that either. Maybe this was just him embarrassing himself again, but he felt a little confident in asking, “Do you hate yourself too?”

He worried he got it totally wrong in the few moments of silence before Aurelia confirmed, slow and thoughtful, “That used to be the case, yes. There was a long time where I hated-everything, really. Myself, other people, the world at large. Sometimes I didn’t know who I hated the most.” Yves stared gobsmacked at her confession. Sure, he thought that might be the case, but to hear the truth from her own mouth was unexpected. Aurelia laughed at his expression. “Why ask if you’re going to be so surprised? Is it that hard to believe?”

“Yes,” Yves admitted honestly. He was rewarded with the rare sight of Aurelia’s surprise, there for a second and then gone once she caught it. “You’re so good at standing up for yourself,” he continued, “and you're so . . . mature when you do it. You know exactly what to say to make people do what you want. And you don’t care what they say about you. You would never cry on the kitchen floor because someone was mean to you.” Yves hung his head in shame. So Aurelia used to struggle with hating herself too, but she already learned to overcome it while he was still at the starting line.

“Why do you think what I’m doing is any different from what you’re doing? I just have an unfair advantage,” Aurelia tipped his chin up with her knuckle, “Maybe I’m not the type of person who cries in secret, but do you think I’m completely unfeeling? My emotions happen to run counter to yours, that’s all.”

Yves swallowed, suddenly nervous at their proximity. Aurelia would usually be taking this opportunity to flirt with him, but she was being completely serious, and that was a dynamic Yves didn’t have a defense against. And up close like this, it was hard for Yves to ignore how beautiful Aurelia was, especially with her tan skin lit up by the moon, silver eyes shining like they belonged in the night sky. Someone had to say something before this moment stretched on too long and Yves started to think things he shouldn’t.

“How,” mouth dry, he licked his lips, faltering when Aurelia’s gaze darted to his mouth, “h-how did you start liking yourself?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. I merely became ambivalent,” Aurelia grinned her same enigmatic grin she usually had, but if Yves squinted, he thought there might be something sad in it, “And I wouldn’t recommend following my example. Not caring may work for me, but it’s not meant for someone like you.”

Yves reflexively opened his mouth to reassure her, but he remembered their earlier discussion. Pretty words with empty meanings; why was it so easy to spout them at someone when they were feeling bad? What were the right words? Yves feared there weren’t any.

Aurelia giggled, amused instead of offended at Yves’ lack of eloquence. “See? Look at you, caring,” she cupped his jaw in her hand, thumb stroking his cheek. “Do you know what I would do in your place? I would get back at them. It wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be generous, and it wouldn’t be kind. But you? You’ll put your energy into making sure the people of your territory are happy and thriving. You’ll push forward policies that benefit the kingdom. The way you take revenge is by making sure the people who hate you have nothing to hate about Rhodolite. You’re pretty, and you’re generous, and you’re kind, despite everything that’s been thrown at you. What a marvel you are.”

This was bad. Aurelia should sound sarcastic like she usually did, not sincere. Yves didn’t know how to handle this new Aurelia, who was being more honest than she’d ever been with him. It made him want to say honest things back, like how she was all those things too. Something flashed in Aurelia’s eyes, her thumb stilling at the corner of his mouth. Oh no, he said that out loud, didn’t he?

“You’re incredibly tempting, do you know that?” Aurelia ran her thumb along his bottom lip. Something about her tone made it sound different from how she would normally mean it. Or maybe now that he knew she liked him for more than he thought she did, he could hear it better. Overwhelmed, Yves’ breath gusted out of him in a shaky exhale, and he could feel himself lean forward the tiniest bit. Aurelia’s grip tightened for a fraction of a second before she let go, heated expression clouding over to her normal one, a pointedly casual smile plastered on her face. “Be careful not to spill your tea,” she said, all traces of the mood from earlier gone.

The sudden distance left Yves feeling adrift. He panicked slightly when he noticed that his cup was completely tipped over, but luckily-for once-it was already empty. He wasn’t sure if Aurelia meant to be as revealing as she was, but he knew he wanted it back. “Thank you. For the tea and the-the talk,” he cast around for something to say, but he had a feeling Aurelia wouldn’t be vulnerable twice in one day.

As always, Aurelia clued in to what he really meant. “Well, it is the witching hour,” she glanced up at the bright, lonely moon, “Perhaps I was trying to cast a spell on you.”

“If you want that to work, you’re going to have to put more than one spell on me,” the words left Yves before he could think about them. He flushed bright red at how flirty that sounded.

“Will I?” Aurelia murmured, studying him closely, something considering in her gaze before she smirked, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And despite the way they dissolved into their normal bickering after that, Yves found himself enjoying his time with Aurelia so much that he forgot about getting to bed and taking care of the puffiness around his eyes. In fact, he was looking forward to more moments where Aurelia let her guard down, even if she was more mercurial than the phases of the moon.

#my fics #ikepri #my ocs #yves kloss #sunshineandstarlightcc

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afi-writes · 10 months ago

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The Goddess of Dragon and Demon

Sunshine & Starlight Creation Challenge

Hosted by: @violettduchess & @lorei-writes

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Ship: Masamune x female reader x Nobunaga Prompt: Late Night Trysts Word count: 4602 Beta-reader: @ruki-mukami-dl's admin Summary: When both the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven and the One-Eyed Dragon come after you, there is only one reasonable solution. CW: NSFW, shameless smut, threesome, kinda kinky A/N: I had written the start of this fic back in 2021 and recently found it in my files. So, I decided to translate and finish it finally.

Cicadas. You can’t stop hearing their chirring even though the sliding doors to the terrace are closed. The garden must be full of them as their sound floods your room.

As you push the door open, the final rays of the setting sun caress your face. Watching the fireball sinking behind the castle walls, you cannot deny the humid heat that still lingers in the air. The summer night is not freed from it, not even in its darkest moments, and it slithers under the layers of your kimono.

Leaving the door to the garden open, you hope to cool down at least a bit before bedtime and sit down at your desk. You allow your mind to wander. You shouldn’t but sometimes it’s simply easier to let go than trying to fight back.

500 years. Who would have ever believed it? And just a couple of months ago, you were determined to go back home. Perhaps that should still be your goal…

But… You sigh.

It’s complicated.

It didn’t take long for Oda Nobunaga to invite you into his private quarters, the Tenshu, after you had arrived. He had named you as his lucky charm, and, of course, he wanted to take advantage of you.

That first night. It has burned into your mind. A hand pressed against the wall, as Nobunaga’s face leaned closer with a smug smirk lingering on his lips. He rose a sake cup on your lips.

“You shall be my cup tonight.” Those words sent shivers down your spine. They still do.

The first game of Go. You will never forget. Nobunaga conquered your hand finger by finger, capturing your soul there and then. Obviously, you didn’t admit it back then, but there is a limit how much you can lie to yourself.

A sigh leaves your lips again.

Life could be simple. You could have surrendered to Nobunaga… but there was something else. On your first night in the castle – before that fated game of Go – Date Masamune had marched into your room, threatening you with his katana. Oh, you had boiled inside! How had he dared?

And that unconsented kiss later! Nobunaga might have challenged you to questionable gambling, but for Masamune, the whole life was a game, and you were the princess on the board he wanted to spirit away for himself.

So, wanted it or not, you had been pulled into the battle royale of the hearts with no clue which warlord would make the final conquest. All you knew was that even if the wormhole were to appear, you had no interest in it. Not in the least.

“Did you leave your door open for me, Kitten?” The soft voice makes you flinch.

You turn only to see Masamune leaning against the terrace door frame, his gaze wandering around your dim personal space. You have already spread your futon, and he peeks toward it before meeting your eyes.

So much for cooling down before sleeping, Masamune has that effect. Just one wild look and your stomach is filled with butterflies and your feet turn into jelly. The most sensible thing would be resisting his pull… but… can you? Can you really?

If you were reasonable, you would keep both men at arm’s length, learned how to win your game of Go, and return to your own time. No romantic trysts.

No romantic trysts.

No romantic…

Masamune slides his zori sandals off on the terrace and strolls in. He doesn’t ask for permission, of course, he doesn’t. And if you would tell him no, he would read your body instead of listening to your words. Unfortunately, you can already feel how much your body is yelling yes.

The summer breeze follows Masamune, making his hair dance around his head as wild as the man himself. The One-Eyed Dragon. It’s almost like he is preying on you tonight as his only eye captures you.

You should think of cicadas but now you barely hear them anymore, for your heart bounces and your pulse throbs in your ears. “You… you know… in my time, it’s not appropriate to walk into a woman’s room in the middle of the night without permission.” You can hear how strained your voice is.

Masamune chuckles. “Your eyes gave the permission as soon as you looked at me.” He inches closer, peering down at you.

Getting up, you step back. It’s useless as Masamune proceeds. Yet you keep retreating away until you meet the wall. Focusing on steadying your breath, you glare at the man, the dragon before you. He leans in, placing his palm next to your head. The wind rides in again, pushing his scent all over you and making your knees weak.

The citric fragrance of yuzu is pleasant, and you can’t shake the thought that you missed your evening bath. Yet Masamune doesn’t seem to mind as he scoots even closer, almost nuzzling your nose with his. “Will you finally purr for me tonight, Kitten?”

You gasp, your mind filling with pictures of every smooch that has burned your lips. With each, Masamune has made it clear that there could be more. But so far, he has accepted your refusal. Except that one time when you stank of gunpowder. The bite mark stained your skin for a while after that.

“Masamune, I…” You are forced to swallow the rest of your sentence as his mouth smacks on yours. Tenderness is far away from scraping and tugging teeth that almost make you swoon. Yet you can’t stop yourself from meeting the demanding tongue, fighting it as if you two were on the battlefield, trying to conquer each other’s realms.

This is exactly what Sasuke warned you about.

But you don’t care. Instead, you grab the collar of Masamune’s kimono, pulling him deeper into the kiss and –

A knock. Someone calls your name. You recognize the soft and innocent voice. One of the maids.

You pant as Masamune releases your lips but doesn’t move off you. Instead, he leans on you, and his heated breath tickles your ear. “Don’t let her in. The situation would only confuse the young lady.”

You swallow. Without meeting Masamune’s gaze, you stare at the door instead. “I apologize but it’s late and I’m tired.”

“But…” The maid inhales loudly behind the door. “Oda-sama is calling for you. He wants you in the Tenshu.”

One glance reveals the grin that spreads on Masamune’s face as he shakes his head at you. Heat slithers deep within you. “Tell him I’m not coming tonight.”

The maid sighs but doesn’t argue. After a while, her footsteps move away until their sound no longer carries into your ears.

“Now, where were we…” Masamune takes your chin, turning your head once again toward his.

You wheeze as your heart bounces like the world is ending. Darkness lays its blanket in the garden behind you, dimming the room even more.

This is a bad idea.

Such a bad idea.

The worst!

Masamune has told you how he kisses anyone who looks cute enough. This isn’t serious for him, but it can be crucial to you.

“If you're not careful, I won't settle for simply capturing your lips tonight.” A hot breath on your face with a hint of spices.

“Then… perhaps…” You tug the collar of his kimono. “…you shouldn’t settle…”

There. Now, it has been said.

Masamune doesn’t hesitate. He shoves you against the wall and rams his lips on yours before thrusting his tongue in between them and making your mouth a battlefield once more. His ferocity makes your knees buckle again but there is no chance to fall as you are squeezed between the dragon and the wall.

A thump. The door of your room slides open. A sigh swipes over your mouth as Masamune pulls back. Heaving, you take support from behind and try to steady yourself as your turn to look to the side.

The carnelian eyes squint beneath the raven bangs. Heat creeps up your neck and over your face, as Nobunaga strolls into the room, gliding the door back shut. “I see my lucky charm has caught your attention, Masamune-san.”

You’re about to choke on your heart, for it is pounding painfully fast. Danger lingers behind the carnelian color as Nobunaga accepts the challenge. You know he is not the one to lose, and you don’t want Masamune to pay the price.

Can Dragon flout Demon without losing its last eye? It is like you are suddenly standing in the middle of the battlefield.

Masamune straightens up. “I was wondering how far I could get before you rush in.”

Unbelievable! As if the whole life was about gambling!

You open your mouth but right then and there Nobunaga roams closer. Tonight, like every night when you play, he wears his kimono in an inappropriate manner, much more casually than during the daytime.

A smirk arises on the lips of Demon. “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored tonight.” Nobunaga lets out a chuckle. “It’s time for her to have a game of Go with me.”

Surprisingly, you can’t distinguish jealousy from Nobunaga’s voice. The fact burns a hole into your chest. It’s not like you wanted to toy with several men, but perhaps you hoped to be worth a bit stronger reaction. Of course, you don’t wish them to throw themselves into a sword fight over you, but…

…but…

…but could Nobunaga care even a little?

Masamune draws his index finger along his chin line. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Nobunaga-sama, but Kitten has already made arrangements with me.” There is a smirk lingering on his lips as well. “For a very different kind of game.”

Nobunaga closes the distance between you all. You press your back against the wall, feeling how electricity sizzles in the air, crackling between the men. Swallowing, you admit your foolishness. You shouldn’t have listened to Masamune, for, obviously, Nobunaga wouldn’t wait till another evening.

Glancing at Masamune, you notice his eye is glued to Nobunaga, challenging the man he serves. Does he have death wishes? Why?

Without paying more attention to his vassal, Nobunaga turns his gaze to you. He measures you from head to toe with his usual smugness wafting in his face. You are familiar with that expression of winning the game. “You know that if you refuse to play, you lose that round.”

You shake your head. “We haven’t discussed such a rule.”

“A rule doesn't cease to exist just because you haven't looked into it.” Nobunaga takes your hand, glancing at Masamune, and raises it on his lips.

Masamune doesn’t move, doesn’t even say a thing, digging yet another hole into your chest. Are you nothing but a plaything to both these men?

As you question your life choices, Nobunaga presses a kiss onto your fingertips, making you gasp. “I have already conquered this territory.” He sucks your index finger into his mouth, his tongue playing with it in a slow teasing way while his gaze never leaves your face.

With a wet slurp, Nobunaga releases your finger only to reach for your earlobe with his other hand. “Your ear belongs to me as well.”

You can’t but nod, and he kisses your wrist. Your heart starts to bounce even more rapidly as you realize what is to come. Not now! Not in front of Masamune.

But without asking permission, the fingers leave your ear as Nobunaga crouches before you, lowering his hand and brushing the bare toes of your right foot. He traces his way to your ankle. “I won over this leg completely last time.”

Nobunaga’s fingers slide higher under your kimono which you know wish to have more layers. The fabric slips aside far too easily, revealing everything to Masamune’s gaze too.

“I wonder which part of you I should conquer next.” Nobunaga chuckles again.

“I can see you have been playing an interesting game.” Masamune scoots closer. “However, I would like to point out that I have also made a conquest and will defend my territory.”

You don’t have time to react before Masamune’s lips are on yours once more. Fiercer than ever, turning you into mush.

“Hmmm, I don’t know.” Nobunaga scoffs, leaving the back of your knee as he rises. His hand lands against the wall beside your head at the same moment, Masamune snakes his tongue into your mouth, entangling it with yours.

As he leans in, Nobunaga’s stare burns into you. “There are things I’m willing to share with my men, and things that belong only to me.”

Snorting, Masamune retreats. You gasp for breath, not knowing if you should try to sink through the wall and make a run for it between the men who talk about you as if you were a field of rice, a possession whose ownership is up for negotiation.

The thing is… you are not. And it is not their decision. You don’t care if one of them is the Demon King of Sixth Heaven and the other The One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu. You’re not theirs to rule.

Placing one hand on Masamune’s chest and the other on Nobunaga’s, you shove them both. The surprise attack works, and both falter slightly. With shaking legs, you rush into middle of the room and glare at them. “Where I come from, men don’t decide such conquests.” You try to make your voice as confident as possible. “The woman decides who can have her and when.”

“Fascinating, our princess is full of marvels.” Nobunaga shoots a glance at Masamune before locking his gaze with yours. “But I want to remind you of the rules you agreed to before our first game.”

“I don’t see the joy in taking something by force. I will conquer you piece by piece until you voluntarily surrender to me completely.”

Your cheeks flare as Nobunaga’s statement returns to your mind. A realization hits you. Your head bends into a nod before you have time to stop yourself. The gesture makes your heart sink. If you don’t gamble, you are to lose someone tonight.

And you can’t have that.

So… you can only play.

“You have won your conquest, Nobunaga.” You nod again. “But I have my conditions. I’m not a realm for you two to fight over or divide as you wish. I’m the sun that shines where she wants to.”

Masamune jerks his brow up. “Sounds like tonight our princess wishes to a goddess.” He caresses your chin. “What is your suggestion, Kitten?”

You touch Masamune’s hand briefly. “The one who works better for the conquest will have the final conquer.”

You meet Nobunaga’s eyes. His gaze challenges you in this very instant, and you notice Masamune’s single eye flashing. You have never said anything as daring as this.

Nobunaga lifts his hand, playing with a lock of your hair. “And how is the winner defined?”

“That is for the sun… the goddess to tell later.” You have to force yourself not to quiver, for this is no time for wavering.

The silence spreads in the dim room. The truth is these two are not ones to share… but will they?

“So, you wish us to play a different game?” Nobunaga’s eyes don’t leave you as he talks.

You nod. “That is right. You are warlords. So… prove that you are qualified to reign this realm of me.” You glance at each. “But this battle can’t be won with a sword.”

“What are you saying, Kitten?” Masamune chuckles. “I think it is a sword you want indeed. Or should I say swords?” As the words leave his lips, he lifts his arm and tugs your obi open. With an obvious experience, he gets rid of the said piece of clothing. It drops on the tatami with a light thud. You probably wouldn’t normally even pay attention to such a quiet sound, but at the moment, all your senses are spreading out and probing for the tiniest shift in the mood and atmosphere.

While Masamune removes the obi, Nobunaga shoves the kimono off your shoulders. Heat courses through you, filling even the smallest, deepest parts of your body when you realize these men will see everything. They will relish the sight of you. Or will they? What if they don’t like what they’ll see? Surely, they both have had tons of experience and many women have given them pleasures.

The distracting thoughts run wild in your mind, but you force your expression to stay calm. Be the sun, be the goddess they called you. Be unbothered by anything that was before you. Be the Goddess of One-Eyed Dragon and Demon King of Sixth Heaven.

“Worship the realm, and it might be yours.” The words escape you before you can prevent them. With a flaring face, you gaze at the men who are already rulers.

“The challenge must be accepted.” A smug smirk raises on Nobunaga’s lips. “What do you think, Masamune-san? Will you fight this battle with me?” He slides the kimono down your arms while speaking.

Masamune grabs the same garment and pushes it open, revealing your breasts whose peaks are already throbbing. “I agree, my lord. But I must say, Nobunaga-sama, I won’t lose my battles.” He closes his mouth around one of your perky buds and you can’t swallow your gasp. Without further thought, you lace your finger with his thick hair.

“Neither do I.” Nobunaga gives the kimono a final tug, making it pile on the floor while he covers your nape with kisses.

You shiver. Twenty fingers trace your skin: ten from behind, ten on your sides. Masamune’s tongue tortures your nipple, hardening it. Wails push past your lips, and a swamp develops deep within you.

Nobunaga’s smooches turn into nibbles, his teeth grazing your skin, and you’re sure there will be marks of his ownership in the morning. Tilting your head, you let out a whine, but it is only replied by two dark chuckles.

Hands grab your waist from behind and haul you against hips. A bulge presses between your buttocks, telling you Nobunaga can offer something huge. By that thought, the realization hits; you asked for them both and they are eager to deliver… which means you will have them. And if you know them at all, they aren’t the ones to wait and take turns. But can you handle that much? For goodness’ sake, you have never had two men simultaneously.

The thought makes you clench and the moistness spreads between your thighs. Masamune sucks your nipple into his mouth and gives it a playful tug with his teeth while Nobunaga grinds against your butt.

Your wailing makes Dragon roar. He grabs your breast and releases the other only to shower your belly with smooches. Crouching, he kisses his way to the south. Further and further down. As he reaches your lower abdomen, you feel another hand on your waist slip down and reach for the apex of your thighs.

“Sneaky.” Masamune’s voice vibrates against your soft curly hair at the same time as Nobunaga’s fingers meander their way in between your swollen folds.

“Hmm, it seems our Goddess enjoys having men to do her bidding like this.” Nobunaga’s words caress your nape. “So wet already.” His teeth scratch the skin, and his digit dives in, retreating again and bringing out more juices of your burning lust. Dipping the finger in once more, it almost seems like he tries to make you spill over.

But Masamune isn’t going to lose here. His lips meet your folds, gliding over your pulsating pearl. As his tongue begins to dance around it, you arch your back and quiver against Nobunaga’s chest, and tug Masamune’s hair, making him groan against your loins. The waves of pleasure take you over, and your moans echo from the walls when Masamune keeps teasing and sucking your wailing nub, and Nobunaga tortures your soaked entrance.

“Shh, do not wake the whole castle up.” Nobunaga raises one hand, tracing your neck until he reaches your chin. As you moan again, he pushes two fingers into your mouth, forcing you to almost gag. You whine but your voice is muffled, while digits fuck both of your moist caverns and Masamune’s tongue tortures you with an endless dance of teasing. You hang on the edge of coming apart, ready to be sent to heaven… or hell, though you have no idea which one this is.

But just when you are about to explode into all colors of the rainbow, Nobunaga slides his digits out of your soaked depths. Your protest is muted by the fingers which still keep your tongue busy.

While Masamune sucks your nub of pleasures, Nobunaga traces your folds, spreading your juices all over. He moves further away from your entrance and closes in on the other opening, making you tense. But he does not mind your nervousness. Instead, he smears your wetness between your buttocks, circling his dampened finger around your hole before gliding it in and probing your reaction.

You whine, and digits dip deeper into your mouth. At the same time, one sneaks into your butt. You squirm and meander, but you aren’t getting anywhere from your two torturers.

Seeing the opportunity, Masamune moves his hand and lets his fingers intrude into your wet depths while still licking and circling your clit. Synchronously, Nobunaga keeps stretching your rear, using your liquids of lust as his lubricant. This is almost too much to take. Too much to bear. You are filled and unable to even wail. Stars explode in your mind, while you sob and gag, arching and coming apart in the hands of your two warlords. While you squirm and whimper, they keep at their pace as if they are never going to stop, making you cum again and again until your legs begin to shake, giving in. You fall, but two pairs of arms catch you before you hit the tatami.

“Already exhausted, Kitten?” Masamune chuckles and pecks your cheek. You can smell your own desire on him, and the scent makes you flare all over. Noting your blush, Masamune leans in. “This was only the first act; the sequel is about to start.”

Nobunaga nibbles your earlobe. “She looks like she has already surrendered.”

“She might, but I have not.” Masamune steals a kiss from your half-open lips, before lifting and carrying you on the futon.

Nobunaga follows in Masamune’s heels, and suddenly the futon you have been perfectly happy with before feels crowded. Masamune lays you down and tugs his obi open as Nobunaga does the same. You can’t but gape when two battle-hardened bodies are revealed for your eyes. Both scarred, yet beautiful, full of well-formed muscles you wish to run your fingertips along.

And, of course, that isn’t all, for it is obvious how ready both men are. The towering proofs of their yearning for you make you swallow. You’ll be sore tomorrow. But that is a problem for the future you. Now, you can feel how the futon gets slowly soaked as you think of those two shafts piercing you.

Two gazes turn to you: one pair of carnelian lust and a single sky-blue orb of heated summer day. The air wafts with lingering cravings, unspoken yet so clear. This is the point of no return, for after this nothing can be undone.

Masamune sits on the futon and lifts you on his lap, his hardness pressing against your belly as you put your legs on both sides of his. You can hear Nobunaga’s movements behind you, and soon his fingertips travel along your spine.

“I don’t see the joy in taking something by force,” Nobunaga repeats the words he said to you on the first night.

“Me neither.” Masamune nuzzles your cheek. “You are to roar ‘moon’ if anything is unpleasant to you, Kitten.”

“Moon?” you gasp the word.

“Is that clear?” Nobunaga’s voice radiates against your ear.

You nod, not trusting that you can muster out a single word anymore.

“You have to say it, Kitten.”

Swallowing, you force your lips to move. “Yes.”

As if that was the cue the men had been waiting for, they move almost in unison. Masamune snatches your butt, lifting you while Nobunaga’s fingers sneak again between your folds. He smears your wetness, pushing it into your rear. And once he’s done, you feel how Masamune’s hardness wedges on your entrance, sinking in inch by inch as the wails escape you once more. He fills you so completely, capturing your senses.

But more is to come. Another thick shaft rubs your butt, testing the waters and teasing the valley between your buttocks. You tense in Masamune’s grasp, and he stays still, waiting if you cry for the moon. But you don’t. The tip of Nobunaga’s cock inches in, stretching you slowly and more carefully than you would have expected from the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven. Then again, it is heaven, not hell. He holds you by your waist, while Masamune squeezes your buttocks.

Finally, Nobunaga stops, heaving onto your nape. “As deliciously tight as I assumed. Tell me, am I the first to conquer this part of the realm?”

You moan in response. The men aren’t even moving, and you already feel so taken that you aren’t sure if you will survive the rest.

“I take that as a yes.”

You can imagine the self-righteous grin that probably dashes onto Nobunaga’s face at the moment the words leave his mouth.

“Nevertheless, Kitten purred for me first.” Masamune’s voice is strained. “You will purr more, won’t you, Kitten?” And by that, he lifts your hips only to shove you back down. You clench around his length, whining and quivering as Nobunaga thrusts in and out at the same pace.

The room is filled with wet slips and muffled moans as the two men hammer you into a bliss you have never experienced before. You tremble and wail in between them, hanging on Masamune’s shoulders while your nails dig into his skin as they fill you up, reaching in so deep it is almost painful, yet pleasure takes over your senses, and you can’t do anything but surrender to the sensations that course through your veins and numb the reason out your mind. Right now, you live only for this rapture and relish in it like the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow again. There is nothing else than these arms around you and shafts that take you, making you a possession of these two rulers of their own right. You might be their Goddess, but they surely reign you right now.

With each push, with every shove, you sink further into a whirlpool of gratification. You moan, almost crying, as you explode into colorful stars again. You are nothing but throbbing pleasure, squeezing the men that have pierced you. Panting and sobbing you surrender willingly. “I’m yours…”

Your words cause another explosion, then a third, and you are filled with a hot, thick load that flows into you, marking even the most private territories of you.

The conquest is over. You have given your everything and received everything. In a sweaty, heaving tangle, you all fall on the futon, forming a knot of limbs as you lay entwined.

“Well…?” Nobunaga puffs into your hair. “…who deserves… the realm, Goddess?”

“Yeah, Kitten… tell us…” Drained mumbles push out of Masamune’s mouth and onto your lips.

And you give the answer of the Goddess for Dragon and Demon. The answer only you three know.

The edit is made of official Ikemen Sengoku game art. The characters are from CGs I got from the mobile version and the background is from the Switch version of the game.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen masamune #x reader #afi writes #spicy

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violettduchess · 10 months ago

Note

Ahhh I hope I'm not too late! Thank you for opening requests! This is exciting! Would you mind doing some headcannons for Cyran, Chevalier, Clavis, and Matias with Emma at a Festival At Night prompt? Thank you! ❤️

A/N: Here you go @echoes-in-the-forest!

A final entry for the Sunshine and Starlight CC hosted by myself and @lorei-writes.

Featuring: Cyran, Matthias, Clavis, Chevalier

Note: Requests that were not written for the challenge may still be written! I just didn't have time to get them all done for this.

WC: 2k

Cyran

The stars above blaze with cold light like diamond-bright pinpricks across the black velvet sky. Over Cyran’s shoulder, the town answers with its own glow: the flickering of white fairy lights strung along the buildings and the stronger, warm orange of the bonfire at the town’s center. For a moment, the sight grabs your attention, holding it prisoner in illuminated chains. But Cyran reclaims it with the grip of his hands on your hips, the hot press of his lips to your cheek. Your eyes fall shut, enshrouding you in darkness but heightening every other sense: the whisper of the wind through the trees as it blends with the gruff sighs of your beloved when you pull him closer; the sweet echo of sparkling wine you can still taste on his tongue; the feel of the rough tree bark through your blouse, against your back; the soft linen of his tunic under your palms, the summer-sun heat of his mouth as it meets yours again and again.

“Seems like coming tonight was a good idea.” You hardly recognize your voice, your breath so shallow, the words rising and falling on an ocean of yearning. He grins against your lips, pulls you even closer. “It will be,” he murmurs with a playful bite to your lower lip. You would chastise him, but you’re laughing too much, giddy with desire and wine and Cyran. Not many have access to this side of him, this passionate, soft, sweet soul that has allowed you in where few have ever tread and holds you there, safe and loved.

“We should at least find somewhere….not quite so woodsy.” You love him and you want him, but you’re also very aware of the sounds of the music, still audible even from the trees where you have hidden yourselves, the laughter of the festival crowd punctuating the air. With great control, he steps away from you, pausing a moment to brush your hair from your shoulders, tuck an errant strand back into place tenderly before looking back at the twinkling village, his bright eyes scanning the night. Then he smiles, slow and satisfied.

“The carriage is not far away. I believe we told the driver we’d stay until midnight which gives us over an hour–” He doesn’t need to say another word. You’ve already threaded your fingers through his, leading the way.

Matthias

He watches the dancing crowd with serious blue eyes, the flickering flame of the torches illuminating their azure depths like frostfire. His tall, strong body radiates a stillness contradictory to the energetic fiddle music that surrounds you. You reach out, sliding your hand into his, wrapping your fingers around his prominent knuckles. A slight tug is all it takes. He glances down at you and tilts his head in inquiry.

“You want to dance?” It doesn’t take a soldier’s hawk-eyed vision to see the hope in your face, the bright question in your eyes. Anyone else would get a cool shake of his noble-head, a frown on his beautiful lips. But you aren’t just anyone. For you, he’d move mountains. For you, he’d raze villages. For you, he will dance.

Effortlessly he takes you into his arms and steps seamlessly into the moving crowd. Under his steady guidance you glide across the cobblestones of the town square as if they were smooth as ice, faster and faster. You are a petal in the wild wind, stardust blown across the snow-capped peaks of the Acroite mountains. You focus on him as the world spins around you. The warm torchlight highlights the blond of his hair and he looks as if he has been kissed by the flames. He quite literally takes your breath away.

You spin like twin planets to the fiddlers' spirited playing until, sadly, the bows pull their final stroke across the strings and the music comes to an end. With your heart racing and your cheeks warm with joy and exertion, he leads you away, sliding a strong arm around your waist as you try to catch your breath. He bends down, his lips close to your ear. “Is everything alright?” You nod, leaning into the strength of his side. When you meet his gaze, you find him studying you, concern tugging his mouth down into a frown. “It was a lively dance and we spun so quickly.” You pause, offering him a gentle smile. “But I do so love dancing with you, Matthias.”

The sincerity of your words pierces his worried demeanor and softens his expression, washing his handsome face in the soft watercolor of love. Spontaneously, he cups your cheek and bends further to kiss you, once, with more tenderness than anyone would think him capable of. You know there is more in that gesture than words could do justice. “My Rosebud.” And then he smiles, soft as morning mist over the mountains. “I love dancing with you, too.”

Clavis

The liquid in your hammered tin cup is a very aggressive green, even in the light of the bonfire at the town’s center. Skeptically, you raise your gaze to Clavis, meeting his delighted golden gaze. “What did you do to my whiskey?” He is still in the process of tucking the small packet of powder back into his jacket pocket. His grin never falters as he looks into your cup and then into your eyes. “Try it, my sweet lamb. I promise I’ve only made it even tastier than usual.” Noting the furrow of your brow, he traces his finger along your cheek. “Trust me, darling. I’d never deceive you.”

You soften at his words. He’d never do anything to hurt you…or make you ill. Ignoring the way your body wants to rebel at the noxious color, you bring the cup to your lips and drink. Flavor explodes across your taste buds. It’s the warmth of a hearthfire on a cold winter’s night. It’s the smokey-voiced whisper of a lover asking you to come to bed. It’s an explosion of amber rioting en masse on your tongue. It’s powerful and comforting and unlike anything you have ever tasted.

“Clavis,” you gasp, gripping his arm with your free hand. “This is amazing.” If he were a peacock, he’d be splaying his tail feathers right now. “I told you, my love.” He links his arm through yours. “Come with me, let’s go watch the fire eater. I’ve heard amazing things.” You take another sip from your cup. “I drink more of this and I bet I can give them a run for their money.” He laughs as you walk together towards the grassy area where you can watch the display. “Perhaps I should be sure.” Pausing, he catches your chin and tilts your head up before leaning down to kiss you. You melt into the familiar feel of his lips, the comfort of his scent and touch. He takes a moment longer to open his eyes, savoring the taste. “No more flames here than the usual ones every kiss from you causes.” You shake your head, unable to keep from giggling.

As you settle down onto the cool grass to watch the fire eater, Clavis sneaks a glance at your profile. Beloved, beautiful, the most dear sight in the entire world to him…..even if your lips have turned a most vivid shade of green.

Chevalier

There is so much to see! Acrobats tumbling across the grass, a bonfire right in the town’s center. Fairy lights are strung from building to building. Vendors ply their wares, selling everything from homemade jewelry and woven scarves to meat pies and whiskey. A lively band plays a jig and townspeople dance with glowing abandon, clasping hands and fluttering eyelashes. Young couples sneak off into the bordering forest while others take to the cover of the shadows between buildings. You finish your last bite of powdered pastry and turn to Chevalier who is watching the revelry with a neutral expression. “Do I have any sugar on my face?” He glances at you and the corner of his mouth lifts in an amused smile. “Naturally.” He reaches up, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the dusting of white at the corner of your mouth. You’re contemplating playfully biting that thumb when you hear a wail from quite nearby.

A small child of about five years old is crying, clutching a red balloon in one hand. She has dark curls that spill down her back, the rest of her hair tied up and out of her face with an enormous yellow bow at the back of her head. Her white stockings are dirty as is the smock of her buttercup yellow dress. Oh dear. After exchanging glances with Chevalier, you approach the little girl, kneeling so you are at her level.

“What’s the matter, little one?” The child tries to speak through her sobbing, knuckling at her teary brown eyes with her free hand. “My b-b-balloon flew away and I w-went to catch it. I followed it d-down an alley but once I had it, I looked and my mum was gone! I’ve lost her!” She collapses into tears again. You reach out, placing a soothing hand on her narrow back. “Shh…it’s alright.” You glance over your shoulder at Chevalier. He’s watching you both, his blue eyes dark in the dim light. “We’ll help you find her.” The little girl considers your words as tears slide freely down her round cheeks. She sniffles. “You will?” Then she pauses, suddenly realizing her situation as she takes a step back. “I’m not s-supposed to talk to strangers.” She reminds you of a fawn, trembling right before it sprints into the cover of the forest.

You glance over your shoulder and then turn back to her. “It is a good thing that he is a Prince of Rhodolite.” Brown eyes widen as she looks at Chevalier with newfound awe. “You’re a prince?” He nods once, curtly. “Indeed he is,” you continue. “And it is a prince’s duty to help his subjects when they are in need. Isn’t that right?” You give him a very pointed look and he blinks before answering. “Correct.” The young girl’s crying is forgotten as she studies him. “So princes have to help their people.” He nods again. “It is one of their most important tasks,” you add. She considers this a moment and then mirrors Chevalier’s nod. “Alright.”

You stand, turning to face the crowd of people. After a moment, he addresses the young girl. “You require a higher vantage point.” She nods as if she understands what he means and then lets out a whoop of delight when he lifts her up high onto his shoulders. Her red balloon still held firmly in one hand, she automatically scans the crowd. “There! I see her! By the popcorn stand!!” She thumps Chevalier excitedly on the head and you have to suppress your own laughter. Gruffly he lowers her and without hesitation, she grabs his hand, tugging him in the direction she saw her mother with you in tow.

When her mother spots her, she rushes forward, wrapping the little girl in her arms. “Oh, my love, you gave me such a fright.” A waterfall of gratitude falls from her lips as she thanks both you and Chevalier for your help. The little girl gently breaks free of her mother's relieved embrace and hurries towards Chevalier. She stops right in front of him and smiling brightly, holds out the balloon. “A present. For being a good prince and helping me.” He looks uncertain a moment until you press a gentle, unseen hand against his back. Clearing his throat, he takes the offering. “You’re welcome,” he answers solemnly.

The little girl and her mother take their leave. As they depart, you can hear the mother’s voice as it fades. “A prince? Oh Lorei, do stop with your wild stories.” When they have disappeared from sight, you reach up, wrapping your arms around Chevalier’s waist and hug him tightly. He embraces you back with one arm, head tilted. “Yes?”

You lean back to look at him, the red balloon bobbing above his head and smile. “I love you. That’s all.” He offers you one of his rare, open smiles in response before dropping a kiss on your forehead. “And I, you.”

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

@starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381

@whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @wordycheeseblob (Cyran is the first one!) @ozalysss (Chevalier)

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #matias asbrink #ikepri matias #matthias asbrink #ikepri matthias #cyran rose #ikepri cyran #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

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