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A/N âŹÂ In celebration of Clavisâ English Route release, hereâs some straight filth for yaâll. Â
Disclaimer âŹÂ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.Â
Wordcount ⏠1.5kÂ
Tag List âŹÂ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady
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The tips of your fingers flittered across the aged parchment as you continued reading, utterly captivated by the book lying before you. A small gasp escaped from your lips as the heroine of the story narrowly avoided death at the very last moment, managing to swing herself up from the jagged cliff with the help of the wild male lead. Thatâs why, to Clavisâ sheer delight, you didnât notice when he made his way over to you in the middle of the library, steps light as a feather so as not to draw any attention to himself. Of course, it helped that he had a light tread in the first place, having been so used to sneaking up on innocent residents of the mansion for the sake of his tricks for years. With bated breath, he slowly inched closer and closer to you until his lips were mere millimeters from your ear.
âWhatâcha reading, Belle?â He murmured, his hot breath ghosting the shell of your ear and causing you to leap nearly three feet in the air.Â
âWhat th--, my God, Clavis! You nearly scared the living daylights out of me,â your eyes were aflame with fury as you glared at the third Prince of Rhodolite, trying your hardest not to let his dashingly handsome looks get the best of you like usual. It was hard. More than hard. His eyes were like pure liquid gold, and that devastating smirk that so often adorned his face captivated you. What made it worse was he knew it. He knew the effect he had on people, especially you.Â
How would you describe your relationship with the hellcat of Rhodolite? Well, since youâd arrived at the palace, the Prince seemed to take a strong liking to you, going out of his way to irritate you, pull some (mostly) harmless pranks on you, and order you around like you were his own personal maid. Youâd spend the first couple weeks refusing him with the resolve of a stubborn bull, but gradually heâd worn you down. The way his gaze would turn so forlorn when he admitted a deep-seated secret, how lonely he was that none of his other brothers seemed to enjoy his company, how he was secretly terrified that nobody truly liked him. You were almost sure it was all an act, but that almost was how he roped you into being his unwilling partner. In fact, thatâs how he ended up inviting you to bed and having you accept a mere week ago. The memory of it still ran through your mind at all waking hours of the day. Despite your attempts at avoiding having to talk about what happened, it seemed like you couldnât avoid him forever.Â
He gazed upon you with feigned indignation and gasped, dramatically clutching at his chest. âMe? Scare you? I would never dare to. I merely wanted to spend some time with you, especially since youâve been so busy lately.â Something in his eyes shifted as his gaze dragged up and down your body, lingering at the bare skin visible above your neckline. His soft lips quirked downwards as he disappointingly searched for the faded mark heâd sucked deep into your skin only a week prior. It was like his eyes were boring holes into your body, and you felt your face heat up with embarrassment.Â
âWhat are you looking at?â You asked, hands flying up to cover the slight swell of your breasts resulting from the tightness of your corset. Then, all at once, the memory of his lips, suckling pretty rose-toned bruises into your skin, rushed through you once more. The way he caressed your skin so gently, so carefully as though he might break you apart, so unlike how you thought heâd be.Â
When you came to, it seemed like the third Prince knew what you were thinking about, too, as his signature smirk reappeared on his lips. In one swift movement, he pulled you up from your chair, spinning you around so quickly that when you finally landed on his lap, sitting sideways against his muscular thighs, you had absolutely no idea what had happened. You let out a shriek of surprise and grasped at the nearest available thing, Clavisâ gloved hand.Â
âA little eager, are we?â He chuckled darkly as he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing kisses along each of the digits and swirling his tongue around your fingertips. âHow is it that you still taste so sweet, even when youâve been poring over those books?â The sensation of his tongue had you praying that he would lavish you with the same attention elsewhere, and before you could stop it, a soft moan slipped from your lips. You felt his mouth form into a smirk against your hand, and he let your hand slip from his as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply as he began to unlace your corset.Â
âPlay with me a little, hm? Iâll be worth your time,â he whispered, trailing his lips from your bare shoulder to the now-exposed swell of your breasts, nipping gently at your skin in his wake. Your hand grasped desperately at Clavisâ arm as he trailed his tongue down your chest, lavishing the taste of your peaks against his mouth. It was heaven for him, being so close to you like this. This was what he wanted since he first laid eyes on you in the town square, skin glistening and eyes sparkling with determination as you protected that boy from the drunkard. It was captivating, and he found himself captivated by you, again and again, each day.Â
Your hips began wriggling desperately against his muscular thigh, every part of your body seeking the friction that would satisfy that deep ache in your core, the one that you couldnât fix yourself ever since you crossed that line in your friendship. A deep groan rumbled from his throat when he noticed your fervent rutting and ripped off his gloves, eager to feel the wetness against his fingers. As his hands made their way underneath your ruffled skirt, his eyes widened momentarily, realizing that you werenât wearing anything underneath your dress.Â
âNaughty, naughty girl,â he murmured, trailing one finger along your core, mouth practically watering at the pool of slick that had gathered along his hands with just one touch. âSo wet and eager for me, hm?â
Your face had turned a deep shade of crimson at his lustful words, and as much as you wanted to deny it, he was right. There was a part of you that was waiting for him to find you, to show you that it wasnât just a one-time thing. But hell would freeze over before you gave in that easily. âNâno, I just⊠I forgotâŠâ You trailed off, hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder.Â
Even that made you all the more endearing to Clavis, and he once again trailed his finger along the seam of your wet core, smirking as you trembled against his body. âGirls that lie donât get rewarded, Belle,â he whispered, tongue trailing against the shell of your earlobe as you jolted once more against him. Again, the way his fingers would ghost over that spot you needed him most, missing deliberately, once, twice, and on the third pass, you gave in.
âPlease, Clavis, iâit wasnât an accident. I need you,â you begged, eyes widening in shock as his free hand gripped your chin firmly and turned your face towards him, those beautiful golden eyes gazing into the most vulnerable parts of you as he held your gaze with such intensity you thanked the heavens that you were already sitting, as your knees immediately turned weak.Â
And there was no way he could deny you when you were begging so sweetly, not when your desire was covering the fabric of his pants and your eyes were so hazy with desire he could reach his own climax from the sight alone. âGood girl,â he murmured, slipping one finger into your needy cunt with ease and capturing your lips into a messy, wet kiss as he swallowed your moans. His fingers thrust against your core, coaxing relentless noises out of you that you were sure to regret when you came back to your senses. Your body was overheating, and that familiar, fluttery sensation deep within your belly was starting to roar to life once more.Â
And with a sudden shift of his fingers, he found that spot deep within your core, that spot that had you crying out in ecstasy against him, rutting against his fingers again and again until your slick had thoroughly soaked through any remaining layers between the two of you. His hand gently cradled your head, pressing kisses against your lips and caressing your hair until you came down from your high.Â
Once your vision refocused, you shifted and looked down at the stain youâd left on his pants, absolutely mortified with what youâd caused. You were sure the Prince was never going to let you live it down â likely making you act as his personal maid for three weeks at least. âIâIâm so sorry, Clavis, Iâll wash those for you right away,â you stammered, about to get up from your spot on his lap when he forcefully grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him once more and whispering something that would seal your fate for the rest of the night.Â
âAnd where do you think youâre going, Belle? I didnât say I was done playing with you.âÂ
HELLO!!! may i request some smut for yvie? <3 i love that boy very very much & i think heâs too pretty not to domâŠhe wonât cry at first, but edge him long enough and heâs a desperate mess â€ïž
Hi nonny...this request was speaking to me today; sorry it took me this long to get to. Am I getting ready for Kinktober? Maaaaybe....
Pretty in Pink - Yves Kloss x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
Pairing: Yves Kloss x Reader
Prompt: Yves getting edged
Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI
You loved Yves.
You loved how beautiful he always looked; his bright blue eyes that gazed at you so lovingly, the way his lips formed the most perfect pink pout.
You loved how caring he was; how he spent so much time perfecting his baking of sweets and treats for his brothers, how he showed you every change he had how much he loved you.
And you loved how his body writhed under yours; your hips pinned on top of his, your hands pressed against his bare chest, as a drop of sweat appeared on his brow, glistening in the moonlight.
Yves' mouth parted, your name a whisper on his lips.
"Please..." he begged, your fingers wrapped around his hard cock, slowly stroking his shaft.
"Please what Yves?" you asked, your voice calm and steady as your gaze caught his, noticing the desperation that clouded his eyes.
Yves closed his eyes, moaning softly; his head falling back on the pink silk pillow underneath him. His cheeks turned a rosy pink as you continued to tease his cock.
"Has anyone ever told you how pretty in pink you look?" you asked, your thumb stroking his cheek, admiring how his blonde locks fell plastered to his forehead.
Flustered, Yves was unable to look at you as he muttered his reply too quiet for you to hear.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear you," you cooed softly, your fingertips ghosting the tip of his cock, enjoying how he twitched under your touch. A smile spread on your lips when your thumb grazed his tip, feeling a drop of precum appear.
"You really are so pretty like this," you said, rubbing the tip of his cock against your slit. "But I think I can make you even prettier."
Lining his cock against your entrance, you slid your body down his shaft, savoring the stretch as he slowly filled you. You watched Yves' eyelids flutter, moaning softly as your bodies became one.
Bodies now joined, you pressed your hips tight against his, warming his cock almost too long. Patience was a virtue, and you were feeling quite virtuous today.
Rolling your hips against his, you set the pace. Slow at first, your movements were measured and deliberate. You felt powerful in this position, and were not ready to relinquish this power anytime soon.
Yves groaned with every stroke of your hips, his fingertips ghosting your breasts. Noticing his increased pace, you slowed yours, enjoying the look of frustration flooding Yves' beautiful face.
Yves begged, once again; your name fell from his lips over and over again as he sought relief. But you would not give in. Not yet. For you had a goal - to see him cry.
He whined loudly, his hands moving, now pawing at your hips, trying to guide you. But you were stronger, more determined, and easily slowed your movements despite the fire the blaze deep inside your belly.
Yves shut his eyes, his body so close to succumbing to yours, when you saw it - a single tear fell from his dark lashes. One turned to two turned to more as a satisfied smile spread on your lips.
As soon as that first tear rolled down his pink cheek, you increased your pace, finally giving your lover what he so desperately sought. Your body clenched as his spasmed inside, pleasure filling both your bodies until you couldn't take anymore. Crying out his name, you collapsed on top of him as the waves of euphoria slowly subsided.
Resting your cheek on his chest, the beat of his heart was fast, but then slowed to a soothing rate, calming you. Yves ran his elegant fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your eyes. You glanced up at him, and wiped away the last tear from his cheek, that moment now a distant memory that would live on in your heart.
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Hi nonny....I'm in the middle of something right now, so here's a small taste.
And you loved how his body writhed under yours; your hips pinned on top of his, your hands pressed against his bare chest, as a drop of sweat appeared on his brow, glistening in the moonlight.
Yves' mouth parted, your name a whisper on his lips.
"Please..." he begged.
Warnings:Â War, Blood, Death, Guns, Night terrors, Spoilers for Chevalier's route
Characters:Â Chevalier Michel x F!Reader
Summary:Â Under the sweltering summer heat, truth and fiction meld to a uniformity Chevalier cannot help to pick apart on his own
Word Count:Â ~3000
A/N:Â My gift for the Seasons of Love Exchange 2022 for the awesome @ikehoe. Mondo thanks to @aquagirl1978 for setting this whole thing up and helping me pick apart Chevalier's brain.
Just a heads up that I am still very amateurish when it comes to writing reader insert, romance, angst, action... basically this whole thing is a giant melting pot of stuff I tossed in from the back of the pantry. Hoping this experiment turns out a success, or at least enough to entertain.
**FINAL reminder to check those content warnings before proceeding. Nothing's super explicit, but things get dicey right out of the gate (but then it gets better, I promise!)
The red tinge of sunset bathed the land in an ethereal glow so mesmerizing it almost completely masked the splotches of blood scattered across the earth. Slain bodies clad in hefty uniforms of either red or black dotted the wasteland, but Chevalier steered through them all the same. Their colors all melted into a singular crimson under the blazing sky anyway. A sea of humans resting after a long dayâs struggle. Side by side, united in death.
Chevalier ran his gloved fingers over the length of his sword, taking in his surroundings as he flicked the gory remains onto a nearby rock. Though he stood in the valley connecting a pair of adjacent hills, the receding summer sun still baked the air around him, overloading his sight with refracting waves wherever they bounced off a sizzling surface. The burning metal of the blade between his fingers. The blinding armor of a fallen soldier by his feet. The scorching stones that congregated the stage he stood upon. He shut his stinging eyes and swallowed breath after breath like the sky was a running stream, willing himself not to succumb to heatstroke. At least he had the foresight to wear cooling white and the fortune to be born with fair hair. No doubt his adversary would be having a more difficult time in this climate, he thought.
When heâd finally taken his fill of the imaginary water, he attempted to focus his vision again by zeroing in on the closest thing to him; the deceased soldier. Now that the horizon nearly succeeded consuming the sun, he could make out the details of the armor without needing to shield his eyes. A charred cloak loosely swaddled the heavily dented breastplate barely managing to restrain the mass of singed limbs so obviously bent out of proportion. Streaks of blood trailed the side of the hill behind the body, and Chevalier wondered whether it was the fire or the fall that did the man in. More probably the latter, he rationed as he sheathed his marginally-cleaned sword and bent down to get a closer look.
The sun-baked helmet seared through his gloves as he lifted it off the manâs head, and though it was badly bloodied and bruised, Chevalier still recognized the face that stared back at him. A prominent Rhodolitian nobleman, a supposed supporter of his faction no less, brandishing the Obsidianite seal on the clasp that barely kept his cloak connected to his armor.Â
He lowered the helmet to the ground and studied the man more intently. A lord from the east, he was what one would classify as barely beyond the stage of youth, recently married and with a child on the way. Chevalier had only spoken with him on a handful of occasions, always in the company of balls or galas, though he never missed the lingering revulsion that clouded the manâs aura when he remarked about the state of affairs or scowled when the princesâ backs were turned.
The banged armor glinted dully in the final traces of sundown, and Chevalier scowled at his own bloodied reflection in the rough metal. While he wore red as a coat of victory, there existed a non-zero possibility that this manâs rouge wove into its fibers. Such was the consequence of betrayal. The man placed his lot and lost his life on the bet. It was the natural order for the weak to be conquered and the strong to rise atop their ashes and pave the way for the future. But what order lay for a future destined to repeat its past?
Then he heard it. The metallic click registered in his brain before the scuttle of boots scratching the dirt. A sound so new and unfamiliar, yet still echoing the call of a thousand dying screams yet to release.
Sword redrawn and back on his feet, Chevalier faced his assailant with renewed focus. Staring back at him from behind the shaky gunâs barrel were the raging eyes of Lord Flandre, all pointed squarely at his chest. Before Chevalier could even think to speak, a second click reverberated behind him. Keeping his sword pointed at Flandre, he shifted his stance to catch sight of the second gunman clad head-to-toe in ethereal black. His single vermilion eye, practically radiating hostility in the low light, smoothly traveled up Chevalierâs cornered figure before catching his gaze with an amused wink. Chevalier countered with a seething leer before returning to the panting Flandre.Â
Outmatched in number, weaponry, and stamina. By all accounts, Chevalier should surrender and face his fate like a gentleman. But Chevalier was never one to ascribe to such frivolous notions as propriety.
The less stable of the two, Flandre was sure to crack and shoot first. Chevalier swapped his blade between targets, primed his knees, and narrowed his eyes on Flandreâs quivering fingers.Â
âLook me in the eye, you beast!â Flandre bellowed, pulling the trigger, and it was as though he ignited a second fire in Chevalierâs limbs.Â
Bang!Â
In an instant, Chevalier dropped his sword, grabbed the forgotten helmet, and sprinted up the bloodstained hill. The incline steepened the higher he went, but he sucked in breath after breath, ignoring his screaming legs, and pushed forward until he heard the second gunshot.
Bang!
This was the moment. Following the line of the final ray of sun, he dug his boot into a rocky inlet and pivoted his entire body, swinging his arm with the momentum and launching the helmet in the direction of the incoming bullet. The metal whistled as wind swished through its various openings, but Chevalier tuned his ears to catch the one sound heâd been waiting for.
Clink!Â
Bullseye. Chevalier exhaled and reverted his attention to descending the hill safely. The newfound chill of twilight began to temper his heaving lungs and racing mind, but as much as he wanted to ascertain whether the deed was done, he didnât dare take his eyes off the jutting rocks threatening to trip him down the slope. If his calculations were correct (and when were they not?) the second bullet would ricochet off the helmet and change trajectory towards Flandre. And if the first bullet didnât do the other guy in, then a rocketing helmet to the cranium surely would.Â
Darkness enveloped the terrain by the time he skidded back down to the helmetless soldier, but he heard no noise other than the shifting pebbles that accompanied him on his descent. Blinking through the inky blackness, Chevalier retrieved his sword then cautiously made his way towards the more dangerous of the men. When his boot struck what he presumed to be a leg, he nudged it several times to confirm it was no longer alive.Â
Such a shame, another two lives tossed in the lot then spat out like the rest. And one of them a prince, no less. He relaxed his sword arm and crouched solemnly by the head. The cool embrace of moonlight crept up the desolate landscape, and Chevalier wanted to look upon the anguished face that plagued his waking and sleeping nightmares in full view. But instead of bubbling with the warm rush of victory, Chevalierâs veins froze when the moon revealed not the lifeless visage of the first prince of Obsidian, but of you.
It wasnât possible, it couldnât be. You werenât supposed to be anywhere near the battlefield. You were back at the palace reading books and sipping tea, just how he left you. Not lying in the middle of nowhere with a terminal wound blooming on your forehead. You were supposed to be safe. Safe with the princes. Safe with his brothers. Safe withâŠ
âThis is⊠all your faultâŠâ
Chevalier automatically jumped to his feet and extended his arm, pointing his sword at the now twitching second body. Heâd watched countless dying men in his years to recognize the futility of speech following a fatal blow. But even the raspiness of a bullet to the throat couldnât mask the voice heâd imprinted over a lifetime.
Moonbeams glistened off the fresh stream of red trickling down Clavisâs paling lips as he struggled to sit up, staring golden daggers into his brotherâs vacant eyes. Â
âAll your fault!â he screeched, and at once Chevalier felt the light of the moon taking weight, enclosing upon him and suspending his still-sore limbs, pinning them against his frame and contracting tighter and tighter. He tried to break free, to rip his arms away and reach both of them, one of them, either of them, but his thrashing only accomplished his sword slipping from his grasp and a splitting pain pounding in his skull, growing and growing until all he could see was endless white and hear an ear-splitting scream he couldnât pin to a source.
As quickly as the squeezing began, it ended. Chevalierâs arms vibrated with the floatiness of surfacing from the saltiest ocean, drenched and stinging, as he breathed deeply in and out his nose and scanned his surroundings. Night shrouded his vision again but he couldnât spot the moon. He tried shifting his legs when he realized he was sitting now, on something lusciously soft. He lowered his still-shaking hand only to discover it clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword. Didnât he drop it? He swiveled his head to his other hand and found the whites of his knuckles clutched in the fingers of another. Your fingers.
The next breaths released easier than the firsts, and he could finally make out the familiar scent of his room. Just a dream, he thought. He rested the sword beside him on the bed and leaned over you, brushing his slowly steadying fingers through your hair. A nightmare, but nonetheless a dream. He looped a clump around his finger and tucked it behind your ear, the motion that never failed to make you giggle, your soft snores filling his senses and calming the last of his heaving breaths. But just when he thought he was about to puff out the last of them, it caught in his throat at the sight of the red bump poking from underneath your fringe.
No. No. It was all a dream. You never got hurt. He never hurt you. You were safe and sound here at the palace, reading books and drinking tea withâŠ
Clavis.
Chevalier meticulously pried his fingers from yours and kicked the covers off. Now out of bed, he could see the measly moonlight shining through the high windows. It paled in comparison to that in his dream (was it really just a dream?), but he still easily maneuvered his way around his desk and chairs to the closet following his mind map. That was one memory he could trust, at least.
He peeled his nightclothes off his sweaty form and quickly dressed himself, mind running abuzz with all the locations he might find his marauding brother. He didnât recall giving Clavis any instructions before retiring for the night, but on the other hand he certainly might have, so it was anyoneâs guess where the third prince could be prancing at this hour. In the faction office catching up on work. In the garden laying his daily trap quota. On the grounds patrolling for trespassers so Chevalier could get some sleep.
Chevalier fastened his belt and slipped his boots on impatiently. He nearly clawed the door off its hinges, but stopped himself when he felt off balance. Pawing at his side, he turned back to the bed where he remembered he left his sword. He grumbled under his breath and restarted the process of weaving his way through the maze, but tripped and fell on his knees when his foot caught in something.Â
Chevalierâs icy glare bore holes in the guilty chair that caused his fall, but he didnât dare make a move lest you were on the verge of waking. Instead, he counted the seconds raking through his brain to determine the origin of the condemned piece of furniture. It wasnât one of the usual staples of his room. Did Clavis leave it in the way as a prank? No, that would be too tame for his standards. Or was that just what heâd want him to think?
He pressed his fist to his temple as his mind swirled with conflicting thoughts battling to dominate his psyche. What was that chair doing here? Where was Clavis? What was he up to? Did he actually bring the chair? What was that chair doing here? Was Clavis hurt? How did you get hurt? Did you trip on the chair, too? What was that wretched chair doing here?
âMy King?â you yawned, stirring. Chevalier stayed silent as a mouse while you patted his side of the bed, hoping youâd succumb to sleepiness and give up soon. But then he remembered the unsheathed blade sitting precariously close to your roaming fingers and leapt to retrieve it, making you sit up in alarm. He avoided your bewildered gaze as he secured the sword to his belt and marched back to the door.
âCh-Chevalier?â you called hesitantly.
âGo back to sleep,â he commanded. His voice came out gravelly, but whether that was due to the summer heat or lack of use he wasnât sure.Â
âBut⊠where are you going?â
âTo see Clavis,â he almost barked. So many questions, why couldnât you just let him do what he needed to? Why couldnât you just trust him and stay put where he knows youâll be safe? Far away from any stray bullets or blades or out-of-control flying helmets.Â
But of course, you were never one to keep quiet when your perspectives differed. It was why he chose you to stand by his side, after all. You were eloquent and firm, able to see through the haze in those rare moments his mind clouded. And right now, you were the lighthouse on his aimless voyage through the thickest fog.
âBut Clavis is in Obsidian for the merger negotiations.âÂ
Chevalier stalled his footsteps and dissected what youâd said. The words flurried around his skull, wiping away the chattering lies and unveiling the truth. You were right, Clavis left with Yves last week bound for Obsidian following the adoption of the four-way peace treaty. At the same time, the twins traveled to Benitoite and Jin accompanied Luke to Jade. A triad of delegations comprised of princes from both factions; a testament to Rhodoliteâs commitment to cooperation and to the magnitude of this historic alliance. An alliance Chevalier devised long before the dawn of his reign and executed seconds after the title left the Belleâs lips. An alliance sentencing his brothers to the whims of three nations usurped by their smallest neighbor overnight.
The pounding in his skull returned, and Chevalier raised a hand to his temple to quench it. But this time, the pain erupted from a source of realization. The mysterious chair was a gift heâd given you when youâd officially moved into his room. The bump on your forehead came from when you and Leon baked him a âFeel better!â cake and youâd tried reaching for a bowl from a high shelf. And the fallen soldier from his dream was merely a character from a romance novel heâd read a few nights prior. The novel where the protagonistâs brother was lured to turn on his family before tragically losing his life to fratricide. The novel with the colorful life-like illustrations that managed to burn into his consciousness as believably as reality. The novel that you recommended he read to calm down after the princesâ departures.
Chevalier involuntarily jerked his free hand when he felt yours curling around his fingers. He hadnât noticed you slipping out of bed and crossing up to him, and though a tinge of fear flashed across your eyes you kept your stance and reached again. This time, Chevalier didnât shy away as he allowed you to pull him toward the bed. He didnât resist when you unclasped his scabbard and set it on the table. He didnât protest when you rid him of his heavy white coat and pressed his shoulders to sit. He didnât argue when you pointed at his gloves and boots then climbed back to your side of the bed. And he didnât complain when you cupped his head and rested it squarely over your heart, tucking him back under the covers and combing your fingers through his hair as he leveled his breathing and nuzzled closer.
âWeâll write to him first thing in the morning. Promise,â you whispered.Â
Chevalier closed his eyes and hummed in agreement.
âAnd you donât have any meetings tomorrow, correct? Letâs take the day off.â
Chevalier nodded, catching a loose ribbon from your nightdress and twiddling it in his fingers.
Chevalier grunted and you laughed into his hair, disrupting the work you put into smoothing down his bedhead. âAlright, alright. Weâll bring some back for him, then.â
You continued listing caboodles of summer activities into his scalp, pausing only to hear his wordless opinions before recommending something new. Eventually his responses ceased and you looked down at his sleeping form with a smile. Brushing his sweaty fringe back, you pressed your forehead against his, filling his thoughts with warm wishes and good dreams for the king who deserved nothing less.
SCORCHIE, this was absolutely amazing. Please please please give this a read. It was so riveting. From the imagery Scorchie is able to conjure up, to the perfect dissection of Chevalier's character, 15/10 all around!!!
Tags ⏠Smut, PIV, Food Play, Ice Play, Slight Angst but ends in Fluff
Warning ⏠Unprotected PIV
Description ⏠Youâre at a loss for what to get the fifth Prince of Rhodolite, Yves Kloss. After all, this is the Prince that has nearly everything and wouldnât tell you even if he did want something. You find yourself roaming around the main square in town looking for the perfect gift for him when you run into some of his older brothers. Oddly enough⊠Yvesâ seems hellbent on ignoring you until his birthday. What could you possibly have done to make the beautiful Prince so upset with you?Â
A/N ⏠This gift is for @bubheart for the #seasons of love gift exchange. I hope I was able to capture Yves in a way you like! And huge shout out to @aquagirl1978 for coordinating and creating this gift exchange. Thank you to all participants for creating such great Ikepri Content and keeping this fandom as one of the best ones around.
Tag List ⏠@and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @randonauticrap @violettduchess @atelier-maroron @dazais-baby
If youâd like to be included on my tag list, please fill out this form.
Disclaimer ⏠I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.
Wordcount ⏠3k
It wasnât that your beloved boyfriend, Yves, was a picky person, or even someone that had any sort of expectations for his birthday. But that was the exact problem â the fact that Yves had zero expectations when it came to his birthday. Despite how flashy his looks were, the fifth Prince of Rhodolite was the exact opposite when it came to birthday surprises. Always the gift giver, never the giftee. Thatâs exactly what landed you in your current predicament, wandering around the cobblestoned path of the main square, aimlessly meandering into shop after shop in a futile attempt to find the perfect last-minute gift for Yves.
âWhat are you doing over there, looking like a little lost bunny?!â A familiar teasing voice called out from across street, causing multiple heads to turn towards you. A sense of comfort immediately filled you at the sound of the manâs voice, and you slowly turned towards him, affirming your guess that the first Prince of Rhodolite, Jin Grandet, had managed to find you right at the brink of a breakdown. Â
The speed at which the much taller man caught up with you was terrifying, though given his height and his long legs, it was to be expected. The oldest brother of all the Rhodolitian princes immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him.
âTell oleâ Jin why youâve been wandering around for the past hour looking like a newborn pup searching for its mother,â Jin smirked, sharp garnet eyes trained on yours. He was a handsome man, that was certain. However, no matter how handsome the other Rhodolitian princes were, there was only one in your heart â the one that was currently on your mind.
You didnât want to answer them, but after relentless pestering, the man finally broke you down. âIâm looking for a gift for Yves! His birthday is coming up and he keeps telling me he doesnât want anything except to spend time with me, but⊠heâs done so much for me and I really want to spoil him.â
Thatâs how you ended up spending most of the day with Yvesâ older brother, laughing at his silly jokes and picking out a couple items here and there to make the perfect gift for Yves. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of radiant, blue eyes had been following the two of you for the past half-hour, growing more and more weary of the intentions of your companion as the day went on.
Yves didnât mean to spy on you, truly. He had the most innocent of intentions and was just hoping youâd be willing to spend the day with him, especially when he pushed through completing all of his work at twice his normal pace just so you two could get some well-deserved alone time. What started ringing alarm bells for him was when you nervously declined him, shuffling around on both feet and giving him a haphazard excuse for why you couldnât spend time with him.
âI⊠uh⊠well, I promised Rio that I would go into town with him to visit our old bookstore and ⊠er⊠yeah.â You ended lamely, blush forming on your cheeks faster than you could even think of a valid excuse to give to your poor boyfriend.
âRio? You promised to go out with Rio even though itâs my birt-- Â itâs the first time Iâll be able to spend time with you in weeks?â Yves sputtered out, deep blue eyes narrowing as he looked at you with the striking resemblance of a cat eyeing its prey. âFine then, but you better come visit me after youâre done!â
And it was already hard enough for him to stomach the idea of you spending a whole day with another man, let alone the infinitely friend-zoned Rio, but when he saw that it was his own brother that you were spending time with? That dark murky green of jealousy in his heart began to form deep within himself before he could even rationally think through the reasons why this might be happening.
How could he blame you? It was already a miracle in itself that youâd shown interest in him. He wasnât as tall as his brothers, nor as manly, and a man born with half Obsidian blood like him. There was no way he could be the perfect partner for you. At least, thatâs what he told himself regularly, as painful as it was, as he vowed to begin distancing himself from you so you could find yourself a better Prince â no matter how much his heart was breaking into pieces.
***
âYves!â You exclaimed, knocking impatiently on his door. Behind you was a trolley laden with his favourite sweets on the first tray, and a pile of useful but meticulously thought-out gifts on the second tray. To top it off, you knew your boyfriendâs keen eye for detail was something he appreciated in others as well, so you made sure to adorn the gifts with baby pink silk ribbon, neatly strapped around pearlescent wrapping paper. âYves?â And when he didnât answer a second time, you wandered off with your trolley of goodies on a quest to find your boyfriend before his birthday ended.
After nearly an hour of searching, sweat matted to your forehead, your voice hoarse from calling out the fifth Princeâs name, you vowed to make one last stop before going back to Yvesâ room and waiting for him to return. The kitchen. Â It was a place you knew he spent most of his time in baking delicious treats out of love, care, and tenderness for Licht, his brothers, and most of all, yourself. As you quickly approached the door, you heard the low muffled grumblings of a familiar voice.
âI âmmf-- canât believe she woulf go wif that stupidf âmmf-- womanizerâ,â the voice of what seemed like your lover stuffing himself and cursing his brothersâ could be heard from the entrance of the kitchen.
You tiptoed quietly into the kitchen, eyes widening as you viewed the carnage around you. Bowls of half-eaten food were strewn across the floor, unknown liquids dripping onto ground, fruit peels haphazardly thrown about, and in the middle of it all was a familiar head of silken gold hair.
âYves? Whatâs wrong?â Your voice was gentle, unassuming, as though Yves were a feral cat that you didnât want to startle. Despite your attempts at carefully letting him know you were there, your lover still jumped up nearly ten feet into the air and immediately twirled around, eyes widening in fright while his hand clutched at his chest.
âYou nearly gave me a heart attack! Why would you sneak up on someone like that?â Yves cried out. That familiar joy began to spread throughout him, only to be quickly shut down by his revelation from earlier. Iâm not good enough for her and Iâll never be good enough for her. I canât give her what she needs.
His sobering thoughts had punted him face-first straight back to reality. Back to the world where he was just the prince with rotten blood inside him, and you were Belle, the most beautiful, loving, and caring woman in all of Rhodolite. Despite every fibre of his being crying out at him to hold you in his arms, kiss you and ask you to reassure him, to tell him he was the only one you wanted, he immediately spun back around to train his beautiful blue eyes on the candy heâd been in the midst of devouring.
âYves? You didnât answer me. Whatâs wrong? Why does it seem like youâre avoiding me?â You asked again, voice tentatively wavering as you approached Yves. With each step you took, it seemed like Yves shrunk into himself another inch. You tentatively reached your hand out to grasp at your loverâs shoulder, only to feel your heart break as he flinched away from you and turned towards you with the coldest look youâve ever seen him give.
âBelle, I thought you were supposed to be busy all day with Rio?â He started, eyes steely trained on you.
âI⊠I was. But I thought you wanted to spend the night together⊠I was waiting for you at your room but you werenât there,â you answered weakly. This wasnât the Yves you knew. No matter how harsh his words were, no matter how much he tried to push you away, there was always a kindness in his gaze that betrayed his voice. âAre you mad at me? Did I do something?â
âNo, itâs not⊠Itâs not you, really. I just, I think we should take a break from each other, give each other some space. Itâll be really busy for me for the next little while, and youâre Belle, so maybe itâs best if we stop things here⊠I think someone else might be able to make you happier,â he stammered, none of that confident iciness from before was visible. His eyes were trained on something in the corner of the room and heâd barely been able to look at you since the words slipped from his lips. It wasnât the truth. It was the furthest thing from the truth. Deep down, he wanted to wrap you up in his arms and hide you away from the rest of the world. He wanted to brush your hair, bathe you, shower you with love and affection and receive the same from you. But he saw how happy you were today, Jinâs arm wrapped around your shoulder, frustrations and anxieties melting from your face.
âWhy are you saying this now, Yves? Why are you saying this today?! I⊠Is it because I said I couldnât spend the day with you because I had plans with Rio? I was lying! I went to the main square because I was looking for something that would be good enough to give to you!â Tears were prickling at the corner of your eyes and you couldnât be bothered to wipe them away as they spilled over your lids, glistening like diamonds on the planes of your cheeks.
âYou, what?! But I saw you, you were with Jin!â Yves exclaimed, red-rimmed eyes widening at you as the gravity of his error began to slowly dawn on him. âDid you⊠how did you, why were you with Jin then?â
âHe found me in the middle of the main square, stressing out about my gift for you!â You couldnât help it as the volume of your voice began increasing until you were nearly sobbing in front of your partner. It was clear that heâd misunderstood the nature of you and Jinâs relationship, and with the way Yves was, he must have immediately begun spiraling and come up with the worst-case scenario, something that would never happen. âYves, did you really think I would forget about your birthday and go hang out with Jin of all people? I just needed his help finding the perfect gift for you, but I would never in a million years do something so scummy to you.â
A few moments of silence passed and Yvesâ brilliant blue eyes wavered, eyebrows furrowed as he debated between begging for your forgiveness and chastising himself for his idiotic jealousy. âAre you sure you wouldnât rather be with someone like Jin? He may be flirtatious, but heâd treat you well⊠I saw you laughing with him⊠you looked happyâŠâ
âAre you kidding me, Yves? I was laughing because he was telling me stories about you. Iâm so in love with you that I wouldnât even want to consider my life without yâ,â but before you could finish your sentence, the soft lips of your lover pressed against yours. The feeling was indescribable. Sure, you two had gone much further than this before, but every time Yves even looked at you a certain way, or gave you a quick peck, it sent butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered, gently resting his forehead on yours while reaching up to cup your face with his hand. âI shouldnât have jumped to conclusions, but I just⊠seeing you with him just made me so upset.â
âYves, I donât care if I have to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times even, thereâs no one else Iâd rather be with than you. No one else Iâd rather spend hours looking for presents for than you!â You exclaimed. With a start, you remembered the abandoned trolley of gifts for Yves and began to pull away. âIn fact, do you want to see what I got you? I made you some desserts as well!â
âNo,â Yves exclaimed, stifling his laughter as he saw your mouth drop open in shock. You were stunning. The way your slightly teary eyes twinkled, the sniffles you still had from the emotional turmoil you two had been in a couple of minutes ago, and your swollen, cherry-red lips. He would often help you get ready for special events and find himself absolutely stunned at how beautiful you were. âI finally figured out what I want.â
âWhat?! You couldnât have told me earlier?â You cried out. âWhat do you want? I can go into town tomorrow to get it for you.â
âThis,â he said simply, before wrapping his arms around your legs and pushing you onto the kitchen counter. He was ravenous as he began to devour you with hungry, needy kisses against your plush lips. âI think you need to be punished for letting another man touch you when you said it yourself, Iâm the only person you want.â
âWhat kind of punishment?â You asked in anticipation, eyes glazed over in lust as you began to feel the familiar heat pool in your lower belly.
Even before you two had ever kissed, you never would have imagined that the fifth Prince of Rhodolite, the one known for upholding chastity and virtue, could be so passionate when he was in the right mood. In fact, not only was he passionate, you couldnât even count on one hand the amount of times he kept you up all night, voice hoarse from crying out in pleasure, coming apart time and time again beneath his skilled hands and movements.
âJust be good for me, okay?â Yves purred, tying two pieces of fabric around your eyes and your wrists, effectively blocking you from seeing anything. A few moments of silence passed and you almost wondered if your lover was petty enough to leave you here, blindfolded, for the kitchen staff to see the next morning. But, despite how petty he could be, you knew he wouldnât be able to stomach anyone else seeing you in such a compromising position.
âEek! Yves, what is that?!â You shrieked, an unfamiliar and jarring sensation prickling your skin as your lover began dragging what seemed like ice across your body. The ice left rivulets of water dripping down your chest, causing your skin to form tiny little goosebumps in its wake.
âJust trust me,â Yves murmured darkly, pupils dilating as he followed the path of a particular water drop that glided across the plane of your chest and disappeared between the valley of your breasts. Then, slowly, inch by inch, he loosened the ribbon keeping your corset together and watched as your bare skin was unveiled to him, mouth watering in anticipation of feeling his lips on your soft skin. He slowly dragged the piece of ice across the supple skin of your breasts, feeling his manhood strain uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants as your nipples pebbled in reaction to the icy temperature. Then, right as you were about to part your lips to complain, he sucked one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth, lavishing and flicking it with his tongue, over and over. The contrast of the heat from his mouth and the chilling iciness caused you to arch your back in overstimulation, only pushing yourself closer to his lips.
He repeated the action on your other breast, gently tweaking your nipples with the tips of his fingers as his darkened blue irises watched you while the sweetest of sounds fell from your lips. âYouâre so beautiful, making those pretty sounds just for me,â Yves whispered, a devastatingly handsome smirk on his face as he watched your eyes flutter open.
All you could do was gasp and nod fervently. âMnâyes, Iâjust for you âeek!â You squealed, not realizing in your lust-induced haze that your lover had begun trailing the ice down the planes of your stomach until he reached the apex of your thighs. âWâwhat are you doing?â You stammered out. Seeing this side of your lover was entirely new to you. After all, Yves would often throw a bit of a tantrum when he was jealous, but never to this extent. The icy sensation against your clit caused you to jolt up, only to be pushed back down onto the table, gently, by your lover.
âYouâre not going anywhere,â Yves said, finally tearing himself away from your breasts to capture you in a heated, passionate kiss. His fingers, wet with both your arousal and the rapidly melting ice, began to gently circle around your sensitive spot. âCome on, my pretty girl, tell me whoâs making you feel this good right now?â
âYâyou, Yves, -mmf, wait! Iâm going toâ,â you babbled out, feeling that coil of pressure tighten in your lower belly as your rapidly approached your release. Your lovers lips pressed desperate, hungry kisses against yours, tongue dominating in your mouth while his fingers worked relentlessly. Then, without warning, he dipped his fingers into your walls and began coaxing that sensitive spot deep within you. âYves! Iâm going to--,â you managed to make out as your lids squeezed tightly together, body quickly filling with the white-hot radiating pleasure of your release.
âLook at me when you come apart for me,â Yves murmured, using his free hand to grip at your mouth, causing your eyes to fly open. His stunning baby-blues locked onto your eyes and try as you might, you couldnât tear your eyes away from his. The moment was so intimate, so intrusive, that you wanted to pour out your heart to him even as your mind went blank with pleasure. âTell me youâre mine,â he pleaded, running his fingers through your hair as he coaxed you back down from your high. âPlease, just tell me that youâre mine⊠I need to hear it.â
And despite you barely recognizing what was going on around you, you recognized the urgency in your loverâs voice. Heart still pounding against your ribcage, you cradled his face in your hands, pausing for a moment to marvel at just how flawless his skin was, and pressed the sweetest of kisses against his nose. âOf course, Iâm yours, Yves. Iâm only yours, and youâre mine, and no one else can take away what we have.â It was all true â there was no one in the world you cared about more than the 5th Prince of Rhodolite, and despite all of the challenges that came with being a commoner in love with a royal, you wanted to face them head on just so you could stay by his side.
Yves felt that familiar prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes and quickly blinked it away. It was overwhelming, just how much love he had for you, and in a fit of pure genius he saw a bowl of whipped cream laying on the table. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched your lover grab the bowl, only to begin gently lathering it over your still swollen folds.
âWhâwhat are you doing, Yves?â You asked, eyes wide with shock and anticipation as you felt that heat pool in your lower belly once again.
âYouâre sweeter than sugar already, but since weâre already in here anyways, letâs make the most of what we have,â he said, smirk growing even bigger when you cried out in pleasure as his tongue began to lavish your core.
And even though you two werenât able to try all of the sweets youâd baked for Yves for his birthday, he made sure not to let any of them go to waste⊠one thing for sure was that you were in for a long, tiring, night.
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if you do could you WRITE CLAVIS EATING THE SHIT OUT IF MC'S MEOW MEOW!!. I'VE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH CLAVIS LATELY AND IMAGINE HIM EATING ME OUT IS THE ONLY THING THAT'S RUNNING IN MY HEAD RN, HE'S JUST SO HOT I'M GONNA GGGRRRR gggrr BBGTRGAGG+@(@-2(@-(@ !!!!
anyways love your writing darling (ââąáŽâąâ)â€
hello hello angel,
technically my requests aren't open right now but if you send something in and it strikes my fancy, I WILL write it (so thank you for sending in this request that has me feeling all types of way for clavis).
Characters âŹÂ Clavis Lelouch x AFAB Reader
Rating âŹÂ E [Smut]
Tags âŹÂ Cunningulus, Clavis calls reader âGood Girl.â
Description âŹÂ How were y
Description âŹÂ How were you supposed to know that youâd get knocked out after trying to save Yves from another one of Clavisâ pranks? Not only that, but the orchestrator of the prank would willingly offer himself up to be your personal butler, waiting on you hand and foot. It started out as an innocent gesture to redeem himself (as innocent as something from Clavis could be) but ended up in something purely sinful and beneficial to the both of youâŠÂ
Disclaimer âŹÂ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.Â
Wordcount ⏠2k
Tag List âŹÂ @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @curious-skybunny @lordsister @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @themysticalbeing @violettduchess @atelieredux @dazais-baby @devildomwritersposts @otomegameinlove @randonauticrap @queengiuliettafirstlady
Please fill out this form if you'd like to be included on my tag list.Â
It had been around two weeks since the palace doctors forced you to your bed, concern for your wellbeing evident on their faces, furrowed brows, and squinted eyes examining you for any signs of lasting damage. How you ended up getting into this predicament was simple, really. Youâd inadvertently gotten in the middle of one of Clavisâ typical pranks on his younger brother, only to have things go disastrously wrong when the bucket of ice water landed right onto your head, knocking you unconscious for a few hours.Â
There was one plus side to this whole situation. The resident prankster himself was so guilt-ridden after seeing you lying unconscious in the hospital bed that heâd been immediately sworn to wait on you hand and foot. According to the maids and palace staff, heâd even shirked all his regular duties just so he could knock on your door at the crack of dawn to begin showering you with unnecessary gifts (out of good will, but annoying nonetheless). You even started letting your guard down around him, allowing him into your room right after you had your regular night time bathing routine, pretending not to notice the way his golden eyes would trail from your face, down to the supple curve of your neck, and then linger on the sliver of thigh that would peek out from the sheer material of your nightgown.Â
It was a mix of pure torture and heaven for Clavis. He couldnât count how many times he had to subtly shift his briefs to conceal his raging hard-on after seeing how your nightgown hung delicately over your curves. Counting his lucky stars, he once had even seen how the nubs of your chest had hardened underneath the soft fabric, poking through due to the chill in the room. It took every last ounce of his willpower to offer you his jacket rather than rip the nightgown off you and lavish your body with his tongue, over and over, until you were crying out from pleasure underneath him. Â
âOh dearest Belle,â a familiar teasing voice called out from beyond the door before landing three sharp raps against the wooden frame. âArenât you going to invite me in for our little nighttime routine?â And though, at this point, you had let him into your room countless times, a tiny part of him still wondered if this would be the day youâd reject him.
âClavis? How many times do I have to tell you I donât need you to help me get ready for bed â itâs been three weeks, and the doctors said Iâm perfectly fine two weeks ago!â You exclaimed, getting up and letting him in anyways despite your words. A part of you found it thrilling when the third Prince of Rhodolite would shower you with attention. There was a sexual charge between the two of you that was further bolstered by this game of cat and mouse you two played.Â
âWell, you can never be too careful; after all, I am the utmost gentleman and must make my wrongs right,â he retorted, smirking at you in all his mischievous wonder.Â
Clavis was dangerous. Everyone in the palace warned you about him. The third Prince was unpredictable, unreliable, and a nuisance at best. At worst, he could make your life a living hell. But that didnât stop you from wanting to get to know him more. It didnât stop you from examining every one of his beautiful, regal features, starting from his long purple lashes, framing the most stunning liquid gold eyes, down to that beauty mark that perfectly accentuated his lower lip. It was unfair, truly, how you were expected not to fall into his charms â especially when he was this captivating.Â
The Princeâs movements were nothing short of graceful, nearly predatory, as he sauntered over to where you sat on the bed. The height advantage allowed him to sneakily peer down the neckline of your gown, mouth widening into a grin as your corset pushed your chest into an almost uncomfortable position. âWhatever you need, Belle, consider me your personal butler, here to wait on you at your every beck and call.âÂ
The heated undertone of his words didnât fail to send a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you took a deep breath before getting up from the bed. âWell⊠I⊠guess I wouldnât mind some help getting out of this dress â I donât know why you royals insist on having corsets that require at least one other person to help you get them off.âÂ
Before another word could even fall from your lips, you felt Clavisâ hands gently brush against the small of your back. His heated breath warmed up the curve of your neck as he slowly pulled on the ribbon that tied the boning together. With dexterity that only he could possess, he began unweaving the ribboning of your corset, taking the utmost care not to hurt you in the process, massaging any sore muscles through the fabric of your dress as he went. Your mind was hazy as you began imagining his hands rubbing elsewhere, unshackled by the barrier of your clothing. A soft moan slipped from your lips as he leaned in closer, needing to focus on a particularly difficult spot, and both of you immediately stiffened.Â
Moments went by of pure, charged sexual tension, and then you heard him shift and clear his throat. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke again, and you swore even that was causing you to become unbearably turned on. âAnd your request is now complete. Can I assist you with anything else, madame?â
Another few moments passed by, a million thoughts racing through your brain. You wanted him. Your body wanted him. That was clear, with the way your panties were soaked just from a few minutes of gentle, innocent grazes of his hand against your back. And you knew it was wrong, taking advantage of this situation, but he did offer to help you out with everything.
Clavis watched, lips quirked up as you battled your inner voice of reason. Heâd nearly lost all semblance of logic a moment ago when that heavenly moan escaped from your lips. It was odd how strong of a hold you had on him. Truly, he had the most innocent of intentions when he offered himself to be your personal butler after his silly little prank; he really did. But now, with your breasts heaving, pupils dilated as you turned to look up at him with that look that screamed you wanted him to take you, his resolve was crumbling away piece by piece.Â
âIâve had some really sore muscles lately⊠I donât think itâd be the worst thing if you⊠helped me out with that,â you mumbled, voice dropping down to a near whisper with the last word.Â
âAnd your wish is my command,â he murmured before gently sliding the sleeves off your dress, exposing the skin of your shoulders. Then, he paused, as though waiting for you to give him permission to continue undressing you. Then, after a quick nod, he continued sliding the fabric off of you, eyes darkening with heat as he took in every inch of your body, covered only by your dampened panties. His eyes were fixated on you for so long that you made a move to cover yourself, beginning to feel the heat rush to your cheeks, only to be stopped by him.Â
âLetâs get you into a more comfortable position,â he drawled, maneuvering you towards the bed and lowering you down onto the covers, face down. Then, with careful restraint, he began kneading at your shoulders, moving down inch by inch until his hands were on the small of your waist. The dampness seeping through your panties didnât escape his sharp gaze, and he trailed one finger along the waistband of your undergarments. âMay I? I need you to be the most relaxed and comfortable, so I can⊠make you feel good,â he chuckled, voice shooting straight to your core.Â
You gave another quick nod and thanked the stars that you didnât have to look at, what you were sure, was a sinfully devious look on the Princeâs face. He lifted your hips up to slide the lacy material off you with ease, and you swore you could hear him lick his lips.Â
âYou know, dearest Belle, I couldâve sworn you were a little minx these past few weeks, just for me. Teasing me, letting your hand linger a little too long on my arm, pressing up against me just too long when youâre reaching for something⊠but that couldnât be, could it? Our little golden Belle, capable of no wrong, wouldnât be trying to seduce the big bad wolf, would she?â His voice dripped with absolute sin as he continued now, kneading into the soft flesh of your rear, fingers skating by your throbbing core every few seconds. It was so close. Always so close, but at the last second, he would go back to rubbing your thighs or your lower back, never touching the area that felt like it was on fire.Â
Suddenly, a light but sharp smack landed squarely on your rear, causing you to jolt up and squeal with surprise. âBelle, I asked you a question â are you purposely trying to make me lose control?â
The tiniest shrivel of restraint in you knew that you should stop things there. Apologize and tell him that you didnât want to take things to the next level. Despite how dangerous everyone made Clavis seem, he wouldnât take things this far if you didnât want to. You knew it was wrong, yet you couldnât bring yourself to stop him. A feeble yes fell from your lips as you hid your face between your covers.Â
âGood girl,â he smirked. âNow, for telling the truth, why donât I make you feel real good tonight?â Then, with the agility youâd never expect from him, he flipped your body over as though you weighed as light as a feather. One gloved finger trailed down the plane of your cheek, and his gaze was absolutely predatory as he lowered himself to your dripping core. âIâll make it up to you for causing you all this trouble â though it seems like what you wanted all along was my attention anyways.âÂ
His tongue trailed out from behind his lips, and he licked a stripe from the bottom of your cunt to the top, flicking the head of his tongue right at your sensitive peak. A strangled moan fell from your lips, and you arched up from the bed. âIâm going to need you to be a good girl and stay still,â he stated, words mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against your core and pushed down at your hips, keeping you from moving. He pursed his lips against your sensitive bud. He began lavishing it, using the tip of his tongue to trace gentle figure eights against you until you were sobbing in pleasure. The building feeling of pleasure was overwhelming, stronger than any release youâd ever had, and it seemed like he had no intention of stopping until you were cumming on his tongue.
âThatâs it,â he murmured against your core, easing two gloved fingers into your eager and needy entrance. âLet go for me.â The slight stinging of his digits was reduced away by his tongue eagerly working against your bud, alternating between flicking and sucking. Then, he angled his fingers up until he found that spot he was looking for deep in your core, and you felt him smirk against you. It was unexpected, really, how quickly heâd manage to find that pleasurable spot within, but once he did he began to languidly coax your core with his fingers, golden eyes trained on you as you began gasping for breath, inching closer and closer to your release by the second.
Finally, with one last stroke, you felt your vision go white as blinding pleasure overtook your body, from your lower belly to the tips of your fingers and toes. âNnghâClavis!â You cried out, hips bucking from the bed so violently that all the Prince could do was hold onto your thighs and nuzzle himself even deeper between your legs. It felt like the pleasure was radiating through you for hours â though you were sure in real time it was minutes. Still, Clavis was relentless as he continued gently pressing against your sensitive bud, causing you to toe the line of overstimulation quickly.
âIâI canât anymore--, Clavis! Itâs too much! Please, I câcanât take anymore!â You squealed, trying to press your hips deeper into the bed to escape his dexterous fingers and tongue.Â
âMm⊠Well, since you begged so sweetly, I guess Iâll let you have a little break before you come on my tongue against,â he drawled, licking your juices off of his lips with his tongue.Â
And despite your better judgment, you let him bring you to release again, and again, and again, until the wee hours of the morning. If there was one thing you had to give to the mischievous Prince, he definitely knew what he was doing â and by the time you two were done, he had more than repaid his debt to you for that silly little prank.Â
I made a Google Form where you are invited to confess you secret thoughts about the Ikemen Series. Your answers will be recorded anonymously so enjoy the freedom.
Here is the door that leads to the Confession Zone a.k.a My Basement:
Take in mind that this is NOT from Cybird and is purely made for fun. By answering this Google Form, you are agreeing to b̶e̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶h̶o̶s̶t
Hi Chaya!! Thank you for opening requests again, I love reading what you write đ
Can I request  July 23rd -Cockwarming in the car at the outdoor movie theater with Fenrir x F!Reader please?
Please make sure you take care of yourself and don't burn out for our sake. I can't wait to read all these other amazing prompts you come up with! đđđ
Hey Darling đ Thank you so much for your concern! I am making sure not to burn myself and am taking plenty of breaks (my fics are coming out slower than I planned but I am not rushing any). Huge thank you to @xxsycamore and @voltage-vixen for hosting this amazing event. My brain my be melting a little due to the excessive heat. I hope you enjoy this one!
Distractions
Fandom: IkeRev
Pairing: Fenrir x F!ReaderÂ
Prompt: Cockwarming in a car at an outdoor movie theaterÂ
Type: NSFW- Minors DNIÂ
CW: modern au, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, crying , car sex, edging, semi public sexÂ
WC:1150+Â
Tagging: @thewitchofbooks, @queen-dahlia, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly, @aquagirl1978, @devildomwritersposts, @canaria-blackwell , @ikesimp100 , @kpop-and-otome , @sarahann-1984, @citizensofcradle , @littlewitty , @curious-skybunny , @lordsisterxotome, @ikehoe, @psychodreamer666 , @tele86 - If your name is crossed out I was unable to tag you. If you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know or fill out this form here.
A growl of frustration leaves your lips as the movie starts, A car pulling last minute right in front of your view.Â
âHey Fen, can I sit on your lap? Mr. Dickhead over here is blocking my viewâ You pout over at your fiance.Â
âSure, come sit on my lapâ Fenrir offers, patting his thighs. You smile brightly, moving along the back seat until you sit on his lap wrapping an arm around his neck. Pressing a kiss to his lips you thank him with a kiss before settling your gaze back on the screen. Fenrirâs fingers tease your thighs and a sigh falls from your lips. You can feel his erection tenting up against your ass as you rock gently, a smirk turning your lips up.
âKeep that up and you will regret it.â The growl in your ear flames the desire forming in your core and you look over your shoulder at him.Â
âWhat are you going to doâ You taunt, watching his eyes darken, but the rest of his face remains calm. His hands slip under your outfit to stroke your bare heat, slicking up his fingers. His name is a whisper on your lips. His fingers explore your entrance, preparing you while his thumb rubs at your bundle of nerves.Â
âFenrir-â You start to moan only for his hand to cover your mouth.Â
âShhh wouldnât be shameful if someone heard?â His magenta eyes gleam in mischief. His hands leave you just long enough to free his erection. Both of you moan as he eases you down his length. Once fully sheathed, you whine in disappointment when he stills. His hands hold your thighs still, rendering you unable to find your pleasure.Â
âLet's watch the movieâ Fenrir sounds completely nonchalant as if talking about the weather, his eyes never leaving the screen. You try to focus, but his warmth and occasional twitches drove you crazy. You have never wanted him to move so badly in your life. After soft whimpers leave your lips for a while, fingers ghost over your clit.Â
âYou better be watching the movieâ He warns in your ear as his fingers play with your clit. Shivers of pleasure flood you as you clench on his cock, taking all the touches he wants to give. Fenrir is teasing in his touches, not wanting you to cum quickly. He takes his time building you up, his lips pressing kisses to your neck, sucking on your pulse. Your mind clouds the closer you get to your pleasure.Â
âPlease Fen, Please let me cumâ you whisper breathlessly. Fenrir squeezes your thigh reassuringly as his fingers apply slightly more pressure. Your legs start shaking and he nips your ear.Â
 âYou better cum all over my cockâ Fenrir groans as his fingers work against your clit. His hand covers your lips to muffle your sounds. Toes curling you clench down on his cock, tears filling your eyes at the frustration of being full but not moving. His hands rub your thighs as you come down, his breath tickling your ear.Â
âOnce this movie is done I canât wait to ruin youâ His promise has you clenching, desperate for some friction. A devilish smirk breaks out across his face.Â
âYou like that promise do you, should we roll down the windows? Let the air come in, let people hear how desperate you are for my cockâ His hands move up to caress your breast. Pulling your dress down to bear your nipples his hand covers them. Pinching and rolling the sensitive buds, you struggle to contain your moans, not wanting anyone else to hear what is going on.Â
His lips tease your neck, while his eyes focus on the movie. You watch the screen, trying to focus on the blurry figures as one hand drops back to your clit, going back to rubbing circles. A cry leaves your lips, your head hits Fenrirâs chest as you whimper through the overstimulation.Â
âYou wanted to sit on my lap darling, this is what happensâ He reminds you, feeling your legs tremble as another orgasm threatens to burst. âI hear they are harder to stop once you startâ waiting until the last possible second, he removes his hands from you, watching the tears flood your cheeks as your body helplessly clenches on his cock, looking for the last stimulation you need. Whimpers of his name tumble from your lips, begging, cussing his name. You can feel his grin against your ear as he turns it into a game, bringing you just to the peak, before removing his hands from you. Again and again, your body is tricked against cumming and every time more of your sanity falls apart. Tears fall freely, as you keep your eyes on the screen desperate for his praise.Â
Seconds turn into minutes and finally the credits roll. All through the credits, he keeps his hand on your clit, teasing you, his lips fastened to your neck. Car after car rolls from the parking lot until you are the only car that remains.Â
âNow babyâ He straightens up and spreads his legs, his hand grabs a hold of your waist. He snaps his hips into you, a laugh falling at your squeal. His hand continues to rub circles, you finally get to cum on the third thrust, falling apart on his cock, only his name from your lips.Â
âI am just getting startedâ He promises, his thrusts speeding up as he fucks you, pulling out only to alter your position. Moving you face down against the seat he grabs your ass, massaging the flesh between his hands as he fucks you. Screams of his name fall from your lips, your hips meeting his thrust for thrust, pathetically trying to cool the heat burning through your system.Â
âCum with me on threeâ He growls in your ear, pressing his fingers against your clit one last time, his thrusts growing more and more sloppy.Â
âThreeâ The number breaks a dam in you as your orgasm overtakes all your senses. His hands hold you tightly to him as he cums inside, thrusting through both your orgasms. Your body feels completely boneless and spent as he pulls out. He fixes your clothing and runs his hands along your stomach and presses kisses on your cheek, wiping away your tears as you both catch your breath.Â
âBaby-â He worriedly calls for you and you just barely have the strength to crack your eyes open.Â
âWas I too much?â you shake your head, nuzzling your face into his neck. You can feel him leave the backseat and settle you in the passenger's seat. Whispering promises of a bath, some warm food, and lots of snuggles as he gets you settled in. Tugging his collar, you bring his lips to yours and give him a kiss full of love, one he is happy to reciprocate.Â
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"Arthur, will you⊠promise me one thing?" You're coming down from your high, but the euphoria wants to keep your company a while longer.
At your question, a disheveled head of teal pops up from underneath the covers over your waist. In broad daylight his inquiring smile, so thoroughly wet with you, captures the square reflections of your windows. You clench despite yourself, belly jolting, thighs quivering with the obscene plan formulating in your head. Your heartbeat crashes in your ears when you imagine how Arthur will react to it.
But before you turn that page, you put on a troubled pout: "Can you stop screaming 'I win!' every time you make me cum before you?"
Your question would be absurd if posed to anyone else in the world. Arthur, fortunately, is not just anyone else.
A dubious hum vibrates from his sylph-like nose. Then he purposely looks away, clearly just to annoy you. You reach for his hair to bring his focus back but he catches your wrist with a playful snap and unites it with his mouth. His hot tongue begins writing on your skin and leaves a trail of your juices all the way down to your middle finger.
"Arthurâ"
He puckers his lips and sucks on the tip of your finger as you fight for sanity underneath him. When he pulls away, the vile pop is accompanied with a devastating smirk.
"I think no, Luv," Arthur says, raking one hand down your center to your blooming entrance. "Not unless you promise me you'll stop doing the same."
---
Thank you for reading! Would love to know what you thought ^^
