Shirabe Tsukuyomi | Symphogear G - Fanart

The faint glow of the moon filtered through the sheer curtains of Shirabe Tsukuyomi's private quarters, casting ethereal shadows across the room. She sat on the edge of her bed, a lone figure against the backdrop of the hushed night. The silence was a comforting blanket, yet it hummed with an unspoken anticipation. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery on her nightgown, a nervous flutter in her chest. It had been a long, arduous day, filled with the clashing of Symphogear and the biting sting of battle. But now, with the adrenaline slowly receding, a different kind of heat began to bloom within her.

She thought of *her*. The image of Tsubasa Kazanari, her rival, her comrade, and the woman who had somehow carved a space so deep within Shirabe’s heart, sent a shiver down her spine. It was a dangerous thought, a forbidden desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, a clandestine longing that even Shirabe, with all her strategic brilliance, couldn't fully control. The training simulations, the shared victories, the moments of vulnerability they had witnessed in each other – they had all coalesced into something far more potent than simple camaraderie.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet. Shirabe’s breath hitched. She knew who it would be. Her heart thrummed a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a prelude to the storm she knew was coming. Slowly, she rose, her movements deliberate, each step on the plush carpet sending ripples of awareness through her. The knock came again, a little more insistent this time. She walked towards the door, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the handle. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from her skin.

Opening the door, Shirabe’s gaze met Tsubasa's. Tsubasa stood there, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light, her expression a mixture of concern and a profound, unspoken tenderness. The wind had ruffled her usually perfect hair, and her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, held a softness that made Shirabe’s knees weak. Tsubasa’s Symphogear armor was gone, replaced by simple, elegant loungewear, but Shirabe could still feel the latent power that resided within her, the same power that drew Shirabe in like a moth to a flame.

"Shirabe," Tsubasa's voice was a low murmur, barely audible above the pounding in Shirabe's ears. "Are you alright?"

Shirabe could only nod, her throat tight with emotion. She stepped aside, a silent invitation for Tsubasa to enter. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken words and years of suppressed longing. As Tsubasa stepped across the threshold, the door swung shut behind her, sealing them in their own private world. The moonlight caught Tsubasa’s uniform jacket, highlighting the curve of her shoulders, the delicate line of her collarbone. Shirabe’s eyes traced every detail, a hunger building within her that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Tsubasa closed the distance between them, her gaze unwavering. Her hand reached out, not to touch, but to hover just inches from Shirabe’s cheek. The air vibrated with the unspoken. Shirabe leaned into the phantom touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief, blissful moment. When she opened them again, Tsubasa’s face was closer, her lips parted slightly, a silent question in their depths.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” Tsubasa finally confessed, her voice a ragged whisper. “I kept thinking about you.”

The admission, so simple yet so profound, sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through Shirabe. This was it. The moment they had both, in their own quiet ways, been waiting for. Shirabe’s hands, as if guided by an unseen force, reached up and gently cupped Tsubasa’s face. Tsubasa’s skin was warm beneath her fingertips, soft and yielding. Shirabe’s thumb brushed against Tsubasa’s lower lip, sending a tremor through her.

“Me too,” Shirabe whispered back, her voice raspy with desire. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Tsubasa.”

The unspoken tension snapped. Tsubasa’s hand cupped Shirabe’s other cheek, her touch firm yet incredibly gentle. Their eyes locked, a silent conversation passing between them, a confession of feelings that had been buried too deep for too long. Then, slowly, deliberately, Tsubasa’s lips met Shirabe’s. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question asked and answered in the soft press of flesh against flesh. Shirabe’s breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

Shirabe’s hands moved from Tsubasa’s face to her hair, tangling in the silken strands. Tsubasa responded with a sigh, her arms wrapping around Shirabe’s waist, pulling her closer. The kiss became a dance of tongues, a desperate exploration of each other’s mouths, a testament to the years of unspoken yearning. Shirabe could taste the desperation on Tsubasa’s lips, the same desperate hunger that gnawed at her own core. The nightgown she wore suddenly felt constricting, a flimsy barrier between her and the woman she craved.

Their bodies pressed together, the soft fabric of their nightclothes doing little to dampen the heat that flared between them. Shirabe could feel the hard lines of Tsubasa’s muscles beneath her fingertips, the steady beat of her heart against her own. Tsubasa’s hands began to explore, her touch tracing the delicate curve of Shirabe’s spine, then moving lower, eliciting a shiver of pleasure. Shirabe’s own hands were not idle, her fingers slipping beneath Tsubasa’s shirt, discovering the warmth of her skin, the firm flesh of her back.

With a shared, silent understanding, they moved towards the bed. The moonlight seemed to embrace them, casting them in a silvery glow as they sank onto the soft mattress. The kisses continued, more passionate now, fueled by the growing urgency. Shirabe fumbled with the buttons of Tsubasa’s shirt, her fingers clumsy with desire. As the fabric parted, revealing the smooth expanse of Tsubasa’s chest, Shirabe gasped. Tsubasa’s skin was pale and flawless, the subtle swell of her breasts a tantalizing sight.

Tsubasa, in turn, began to unbutton Shirabe’s nightgown. With each undone button, a new wave of vulnerability and excitement washed over Shirabe. The delicate fabric parted, revealing her own flushed skin, her bare breasts exposed to the soft light and Tsubasa’s adoring gaze. Tsubasa’s eyes widened, a silent appreciation in their depths. She leaned in, her lips trailing a path of fire across Shirabe’s collarbone, down to the swell of her breast. Shirabe arched her back, a soft cry escaping her lips as Tsubasa’s mouth closed around her nipple. The sensation was exquisite, a potent blend of pleasure and surrender.

Shirabe’s hands worked to shed the rest of their clothes, their movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. Soon, they were both naked, their bodies laid bare to each other, bathed in the moon’s soft glow. Shirabe’s gaze swept over Tsubasa’s form, taking in every exquisite detail. The elegant curve of her hips, the gentle slope of her stomach, the dark triangle of hair nestled between her thighs. It was a vision of pure, unadulterated beauty, a sight that made Shirabe’s heart ache with adoration and raw lust.

Tsubasa met her gaze, her own eyes filled with a similar wonder and a burning desire. Her hand reached out, her fingers tracing the delicate curve of Shirabe’s hip, then venturing lower, to the soft, yielding flesh of her inner thigh. Shirabe shivered as Tsubasa’s touch grew bolder, her fingers caressing the sensitive skin, drawing closer to the source of her deepest desires. Shirabe’s breath hitched as Tsubasa’s fingertips brushed against the entrance to her pussy. A wave of heat surged through her, her legs parting involuntarily.

“Tsubasa…” Shirabe moaned, her voice a broken whisper. She wanted, she needed, more. She wanted Tsubasa inside her, she wanted to feel her completely. She guided Tsubasa’s hand, her own body pressing into the touch, a silent plea.

Tsubasa’s eyes, dark with passion, met Shirabe’s. She understood. With a slow, deliberate motion, her fingers began to explore. The slickness of Shirabe’s pussy was a testament to her arousal, a wet promise of the pleasure to come. Shirabe moaned louder, her hips rising from the bed as Tsubasa’s fingers delved deeper, finding her core, her sensitive clit. The rhythm was gentle at first, then more insistent, more demanding, eliciting gasps and cries of pleasure from Shirabe.

Shirabe’s own hands were busy now, her fingers tracing Tsubasa’s form, her touch exploring the taut muscles of her stomach, the firm flesh of her thighs. She found Tsubasa’s pussy, slick and inviting. Her fingers caressed, teased, and then gently entered. Tsubasa cried out, her body arching into Shirabe’s touch. They explored each other with their hands, their mouths, their bodies, a symphony of pleasure building between them. The air was filled with their moans, their gasps, their whispered declarations of desire.

The moment was ripe. Shirabe’s gaze met Tsubasa’s, a silent question in her eyes. Tsubasa’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body slick with sweat. Shirabe, with a newfound confidence born of shared intimacy, shifted her position, her legs parting wider. Tsubasa’s eyes widened with anticipation. Shirabe guided Tsubasa’s body, her own hips rising to meet the challenge. She felt the firm tip of Tsubasa’s cock pressing against her entrance, a delicious friction that sent tremors of pure ecstasy through her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Shirabe pulled Tsubasa closer, guiding her inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect fit, a feeling of completeness she had never known. Tsubasa’s eyes were closed, a look of pure bliss on her face. Shirabe held her tightly, her own body trembling with the sheer intensity of the moment. Tsubasa began to move, slow and steady at first, her hips finding a rhythm that mirrored Shirabe’s own. The sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, a primal symphony of pleasure.

Their bodies became one, a single entity moving in perfect sync. Shirabe’s nails dug into Tsubasa’s back, her cries of pleasure echoing in the night. Tsubasa grunted with each thrust, his eyes locked on Shirabe’s, a shared ecstasy in their depths. The pace quickened, their movements becoming more frantic, more desperate, pushing them closer to the precipice. Shirabe felt the tension building within her, a coiled spring about to release. Tsubasa’s thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, and Shirabe felt a wave of heat engulfing her.

“I’m… I’m close!” Shirabe gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. Tsubasa’s eyes widened, a raw hunger igniting in them. He increased his pace, his cock pounding into her, driving her higher and higher. Shirabe arched her back, her body convulsing as the climax washed over her, waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure shattering her senses. She cried out Tsubasa’s name, her body trembling uncontrollably. Just as she began to subside, she felt Tsubasa’s body stiffen, his own release building. He moaned her name, his body shuddering as he poured his seed deep within her. The sensation of his hot cum filling her was a final, exquisite crescendo, a testament to their shared passion.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts beating in unison. The moonlight still bathed them in its ethereal glow, but now it was a gentle, comforting light. Shirabe nestled into Tsubasa’s embrace, her head resting on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart. Tsubasa’s arm was wrapped around her, holding her close. The silence was no longer filled with anticipation, but with a profound sense of peace and fulfillment. The forbidden desire had been unleashed, and in its wake, something beautiful and enduring had been born. Shirabe closed her eyes, a soft smile gracing her lips, knowing that this was just the beginning.