A Gentle Love

A Gentle Love

Pairing ~ Chevalier Michel x Reader

Word Count ~ 786

Author's Note ~ My first Chevalier fic of the autumn season!!! I'm so excited about this fic, because soft Chev is my entire weakness. It's also my first fic for my Cozytober event, and I really really hope you enjoy it! No warnings, just tons of soft, autumn, white tiger fluff!

Prompt: No. 4 "The Dead Waltz"

Lyrics: "...wrapped your long hair up in vines, and leaves, and branches..."

You maneuvered again, curling even deeper into the settee as you snuggled under the cloak. It was thick and warm and a soft velvet that could make even the most stubborn cat purr. You breathed in the fresh scent of vetiver and shampoo that lingered around the fur at the top, keeping you close to your lover even as he completed his duties for the day elsewhere. 

It was a chilly day, the breeze nipping your face as it swept through the beautiful garden of slowly wilting roses. The fall of the year was swiftly on its way, and you smiled up at the colors raining down on you from above. The book you had brought out with you was long since finished, and now you merely waited for the owner of your blanket to join you. But as you gazed down at the leaves the trees had gifted you, you decided you wouldn't let them go to waste, and propped yourself into a sitting position on the settee. You gathered the leaves into a pile in your lap, then leaned down to the vines in the grass and tugged at them, smiling as you began your creations. 

Chevalier never walked with anything less than purpose, but swifter lately had his exits from the office become; hastier, more hurried. Once his work was complete, it was as if he could not bear another moment without the comfort of his lover at his side. So wherever he was, wherever you were, he rushed to you. This afternoon he found himself traveling to the gardens, remembering the sweater you were wearing when you had stopped in earlier, and the twinkle in your eye as you swept out of his office, the most recent book he'd gifted you under your arm. 

A smile tugged its way to his stiff lips, the muscles there still not totally used to showing affection. But you were the exception; his only exception. His feet stopped when he reached the plush settee that rested near the garden's entrance, and his smile settled further into his lips as he beheld you, sleeping softly underneath his cloak, your long hair wrapped up in vines, and leaves, and branches; the myriad of colors was twirled into your braided hair effortlessly, as though a creature from fantasy had done it by hand as you slept. 

Chevalier had never been religious, but perhaps God was working to make him a believer, he thought, for the woman before him could be no less than an angel sent from the realms of heaven. You tamed his beastly side, you awoke in him emotions he believed he could never have, and you ignited such a fierce love in him that at times he wondered if he would burn to death from within. 

He approached with silent footfall, not wanting to wake you just yet, and chuckled quietly at the crown of leaves and vines you had created for him, and left atop your dozing form. He reached for it, and in an act so unnecessary that he chided himself for being foolish, fitted it atop his blond locks and gingerly sat down beside you, laying his hand on your shoulder. You stirred ever so slightly and struggled to open your eyes. Once the light no longer pained you, you gazed up at the beautiful sight before you. While you slept, your lover had arrived and indulged in your creation. A smile tugged on your lips and you yawned, your body pulling its way to full awareness. 

"Good afternoon, Chevalier." You murmured, smiling up at the angelic glow surrounding his handsome face. 

"Is the crown of Rhodolite too garish for my head?" He quipped, humor gleaming in his bright blue eyes. 

"Even the most capable king needs a little less weight to carry sometimes." You chuckled, pulling him down for a kiss. But Chevalier was a greedy man, and one was never enough. Somehow, he managed to curl into the settee beside you, his cloak covering the both of you in its warmth. He had used his cloak as a blanket many times, out on the battleground campsites, in the midst of war; but never like this. Never before had it felt like a cover of safety, an entrapment for the love he shared with the woman he loved, a home of peace. 

But as he gazed down at you, so content and trusting in his arms, he decided he would never again take his cloak to the battlefield. For it belonged here, in the arms of his angel, as a reminder of the human man that would return to her when he came home to wrap her up in his arms again. 

🎃

Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @veervers @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

Krummes Holz gibt auch gerades Feuer

🎊Happy birthday Chevalier🎊

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬  💌 Nokto has been away for so long, and Emma is alone with her thoughts about him.

Nokto Klein x Emma(MC) • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Reunion Sex; Accidental Voyeurism; Masturbation; Teasing; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Some Humor; Aftercare; Fluff and Smut; Couch Cuddles • wordcount: 1,594 • masterlist

a/n: AHH I had the pleasure to participate in yet another amazing ikemen gift exchange hosted by @sunnyikemen and @ikemenlibrary ! My giftee for this round was @nightghoul381 ! GHOULIE!! I squealed when I saw your name in the info message!! Hope you enjoy!🥺❤❤

The night is warm and quiet, every other soul in the palace is fast asleep, distant songs of nocturnal birds make for the perfect background noise to enjoy the company of a good book under soft candlelight…and Emma makes the most of it.

If only she could trade her companion for the night with the one person she misses the most right now.

Tonight too, she prefers being in Nokto's room instead of her own, surrounded by the comforting presence of all things reminiscent of him. The scent on his pillow is becoming fainter with every night he's missing from home and Emma's heart aches for him.

It won't be much longer now. That's what she tells herself as she flips another page.

The letter she used as a bookmark lays open on the coffee table as she'd delayed her pastime just to look at the words inside once again. The evidence of that longing being shared, as Nokto wrote about how much he misses her while he's abroad. How much he wants to kiss her. To hold her in his arms.

He's always been good with words, pressing all her buttons as he selects them carefully to get a desired reaction out of her. The sultry tone of his voice is nowhere to be found yet he doesn't even need to utilize that little curve to the end of his spoken sentences that makes her legs weak; Emma finds out that she can fairly well hear it all in her head as she reads the letter anyway. And Nokto wrote some unspeakable things.

Laying comfortably on his couch now, book held up by a single hand, Emma finds that it's becoming harder to chase after the words in the book. Soon the protagonist takes the visage of Nokto in her mind's eye, and she loses the fight. It's no good when her other hand is unoccupied; it finds the way between her legs all too soon, too easily.

"Ngghh… Nokto.."

It's a small whisper in the night, too weak and too far away to reach the one it's meant for. That's what Emma knows for sure, getting lost in pink-tinted visions produced by her imagination; and so the soft turning of the doorknob falls on deaf ears.

Nokto enters quietly, knowing his Emma well enough to find her in his room - and strangely, knowing her too little to expect she is missing him… that much. Before he knows it, he becomes the bigger pervert in the room as he silently admires the way her fingers would never be enough to resemble his presence. Deep down, he loves that fact more than he pities her. But despite himself, he's soon to coo and reveal himself.

"Are you in trouble, my dear? Those lovely sounds don't sound quite right to me… You need more."

Emma gasps, reasonably startled as she hurries to retrain some decency and pulls down her nightgown where it rode up her waist. Her eyes are big and starry, and Nokto doesn't wait for a reply before he leans down over the couch's back and captures the lips he missed the most.

The kiss comes as a silent 'I missed you' when they both skipped saying it out loud, and quickly morphs into something far less innocent. Almost like a fight to prove one missed the other more.

Emma puts her warm hand on Nokto's face just as he withdraws for air, and she is just as breathless when she attempts to speak out loud. "Are you real?"

Nokto smirks, the red of his eyes stressed by the flickering candlelight. "I might just be real. Or maybe my little vixen's fantasies have become that vivid and tangible."

"Noktooo… don't tease…"

He finds himself tugged down, two hands wrapping securely around his neck until he can't take on the task of removing his coat as planned. It's only fair if she wants more proof of him being real here and now, he'll give her plenty.

It's only after a couple more fierce kisses that Nokto finds himself getting undressed, as Emma makes it up to him by doing it herself. Articles of clothes fall to the ground as suddenly there's nothing in Nokto's way to claim his long-waited prize for being away from home for so long.

"When I found a way to return earlier, I did all in my power to take on the opportunity. I had to see you."

"Nokto…"

"I had to make love to you again before I can forget the taste of your lips. I can't live without it."

Emma's body shudders as Nokto finds the place that aches for him the most, rubbing soft circles on her nub with his slender fingers. She's dripping wet from when she was playing with herself earlier and is quick to whine in protests of not enough.

"Shhh. Be patient. I want to take things nice and slow- Fuck. Emma."

His gaze darkens with lust as he stares her down, from her expression to the hand that mischievously reached down to his crouch to give him a firm squeeze.

"You can't wait to have me either, so why wait? Darling…" Emma asks in a tiny voice that comes out muffled behind her hand. Nokto is fast to capture it in his own and pin it down over her head.

"Why wait, indeed. My clever little Emma."

Taking hold of her leg, Nokto raises it up until it hangs over the edge of the backrest, giving him full access to her glistening pussy. Not even having fully shimmied out of his trousers yet, Nokto leans down until his body is flush against Emma's, and presses his cock against her entrance.

Emma mewls so sweetly as she feels Nokto enter her, her body shivering in ecstasy as she'd prepared it for a much lesser stimulation tonight. Her previous arouse makes Nokto's entry slippery and the noise of their coupling soon begins to fill the night. It's dirty and it's perfect.

Just as Emma gets close, her moans growing in volume, Nokto suddenly halts his movements. She looks at him with a red face and with question marks in her eyes. Nokto is frowning, albeit with a face equally as flushed as hers.

"I thought about this all week. About the possibility of coming to you earlier, and how I'll make our reunion a night you'll never forget. I'd sweep you off your feet wherever you are in the palace, take you back to our room and put you on the bed. I'd take my time undressing you like a present, pressing kisses against all those places that entered my dreams the previous lonely nights. I'd bury my head between those pretty legs of yours and remain there until you're screaming to me all the things you want me to do to you next, making your juices drip down my chin so I can never forget your taste again. And then I'll… then I'll just fuck you. Until we both take our fills."

Emma's breathing grows erratic as she feels herself coming undone, the sensation of him picking the speed up again and his filthy words that her brain barely manages to register, it's all too much. She screams as her walls clamp down on him hard, a strong climax ripped out of her with each thrust of Nokto who just gives her more and more, the way she wanted it and needed it.

"And then I open the door and you're- fuck- you're here touching yourself, moaning my name- and what am I supposed to do other than to claim you on the spot? You turned my plans to dust. You…"

With a groan, Nokto feels himself being dragged over the edge by Emma's pulsing walls, her warm, tight core milking him of all he has. He shoots his load deep inside her, painting her insides white. He remains thrusting into her shallowly, chasing after the last drops of pleasure he can squeeze out of both of them.

They turn into a content pile of entangled limbs on the couch, heavy breaths and soft smooches on whatever part of each other's face they can reach. Emma's pleasure-marred, sore throat voice reaches Nokto's ears.

"Hehe…I'm sorry?"

It takes him a second, all too lost in the sea of afterglow and warm emotions, to realize Emma is apologizing for spoiling his fun. He can tell she's not all that sorry at the same time, and it paints his chuckle a bit sarcastic. There's a hint of teeth to his next kiss, and he finds her mood to be just as playful, despite how blissed out she seemed just a second ago.

"Maybe we can make up for it and go with your version for round two." Emma suggests, putting her hands on Nokto's chest to push him out of her. Once they're both seated up, Nokto caresses the back of her head, his affirmative low humming enough to let her know just how much he's looking forward to that.

"Surely you don't mind if I grab a bite of your dessert before that? Out of all the things I missed about you, your baking is pretty high on the list you know."

"Nokto, no!"

Emma tries to warn him, but it's too late, as Nokto's chewing suddenly pauses, the reason clear as a day - he tasted the carrots in the slice of cake he just forked a bite of.

"N-Nokto, don't frown now! I didn't know you were coming home tonight, remember! God..!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @princess-pray-a @aceuuuuu Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

Matthias was talking about that dorayaki as if he was in Shokugeki

Welcome back, Violett!! 💖 For the ikepri halloween costume challenge, may I request Chevalier + devil + spooky? 🤗 Hope you have a lovely week! 🥰

A/N: Here you are @skiagrafia! I really enjoyed this! I was inspired by a short story by Tumblr legend Neil Gaiman called "Other People." You can read it here

Chevalier x Reader

WC: 900

The wooden bench in the church is rough to the touch. The end of it is splintered and there are scratches in the wood of the pew in front of you. A shudder runs through your body as you wonder how they got there. They’re too small to be from any wild animal. Certainly too shallow to be a bear or anything like that.

In the distance, you hear a lone cry, a faint howl that momentarily chases away the silence of the church like a broom violently scattering cobwebs. But outside the windows there is only gray, a gloom that seems to have wrapped itself around the small building in the middle of the woods. It's latched onto the peeling paint and loose nails and clings, territorial.

You nervously pull at a hangnail on your index finger, pull until it comes right off, taking a sliver of skin with it. You frown as you stare at the angry red stripe on your finger. That should hurt. It doesn’t.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance back at the church's double doors. They are as scratched as the pews and look somehow heavier than they should. The iron hinges are shaped like tridents, their points wickedly sharp for something decorative. Uncomfortable, you turn away again, smoothing down the folds of your white skirt.

You know you’re meant to wait. But for what….?

You can’t quite remember. It’s that elusive scratching at your mind when you know that you know something but can’t for the life of you call it forth.

The howling sound breaks the silence again.

This time it is louder. Closer.

You pull on the ends of your sleeves, curling your fingers inwards to clutch the white material.

In front of you, the altar is cracked, a jagged line like black lighting running through the stone. The cross on the wall above it hangs crooked, as if it is considering letting go, allowing the fall to the tiled floor to do what it will.

A loud whooshing sound pulls your attention back to the church entrance. The wooden doors have opened and in steps the most beautiful man you have ever seen. Dressed from head to toe in pristine white, broad of shoulder, long of leg with a face that could make a person weep at its classical perfection. His hair is pale as bone and rising from his head are twin horns of curling onyx. Striking as all this is, it's his eyes which catch you attention the most, a piercing blue the color of cruel frost, of endless frozen skies. When he fixes his gaze directly upon you, it feels as if winter itself is blowing through your bones, sending a corkscrew of cold fear straight through your body.

He stops walking and looks down at you, where you are sitting on the pew bench, his expression smooth as polished glass.

“We must go.”

His voice sends another rush of cold through you and you feel yourself starting to shiver. You glance at the church doors, now wide open. All you can see is gray gloom. Impenetrable. Suffocating.

“Where?” How your voice shakes, how small it sounds.

Again a howl pierces the church. It is louder now than before.

The window panes of the church tremble.

His gaze remains steady, although there is now a glint of something in his eyes. Something sharp and bright.

“You know.”

You rise to your feet on legs that feel numb. The man starts back down the aisle, then turns when he sees the way you grip each wooden pew you pass, your body tilting like a willow in a violent storm. The grip of your fingers is so strong, your nails dig little half-moon crescents into the wood.

He pauses, waiting for you to catch up and then takes hold of your arm. Despite the black gloves, his touch feels as hard and cold as frozen iron. The cold rushes through you and you can barely walk for all of your quivering.

You are almost at the open doors, at the mouth of all that opaque gray.

“W-w-what’s out there?” Your voice is barely a whisper, a wisp of smoke on the precipice of fading.

You’ve reached the doorway; his hand is still on your arm. He turns his head, looking down at you with those eyes of the most unearthly, startling blue.

“Nothing,” he answers. “Absolutely nothing.”

And then he slings you forward, forcing you into the gray. A flap of your white skirt. The white of your wide eyes. And then you are gone, utterly and completely, swallowed by the nothing. No trace of you left except the frightened marks of your fingernails in the scarred wood of the pew.

He reaches down, tugging once on the edge of his black glove, making it fit perfectly again. He turns his artic gaze towards the gloom. A second later there is a rush of wind, a burst of turbulent energy that continues its howling as it enters the church. It shakes the windows, jostles the crooked cross on the wall, skims the broken altar before growing still.

Slowly a figure fades into view, another lost soul slumped forward in the wooden pew. It will need time before it awakens, notices its surroundings.

Just like you did.

Just like they all do.

And when it does, he’ll be there.

Silently as fog he steps outside the church, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly @ozalysss @ikesimpleton