#clavis x emma
Text
It's You. You're My Kink.
Recipient: @kokorokai as part of the ‘My Ikémen Valentine' Gift Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary
Characters: (Ikemen Prince) Clavis Lelouch and MC/Emma. Established relationship
Recipient’s Request: 🌶 NSFW content with a dominant Clavis
Premise: He knows she knows his weakness is alcohol and his fetish is her thighs. But he doesn't know her weaknesses, fetishes, kinks, or fantasies. It's time to force some sexy secrets out of his lovely lover. Written from Clavis’s PoV.
Content Tags: consensual, soft dom, cunnilingus, sensory play, blindfold, light bondage/restraints, ropes, temperature play, spanking/impact play, anal toys, dildo, vibrators, ball gag, orgasm control, edging, begging, praise.
Word count: 7,500
Author's Notes are at the end of the story.
TITLE: It's You. You're My Kink.
Emma unwrapped the gift box and took out a skein of lavender shibari rope and leather wrist restraints. There was a pause as she held them in her hands before giving me a dubious glance.
Oh? Already wary, are we? Heh, heh.
“I’d make a guess that you are inviting me to be your ‘lovely accomplice’ in setting up traps, but … Clavis, this … is not your usual rope for traps. And this.” She dangled the cuff from her fingers, “isn’t usually part of your traps, either. I’d hope, anyway?!?” A strained giggle, paired with her eyebrows pulled up together in confusion made an exquisite reaction.
Ah, well, let me spell it out so she’s not taken unawares when the fun begins tomorrow.
“What’s that? You say you would love to enjoy some alone time with your handsome prince? And you give your consent for some kinky fun? Oh, Emma, I’m so happy you decided to accept my invitation!”
I noticed her eyes widened at the mention of ‘kinky’. Oh ho.
My meaningful gaze bore down on her and I gave her my most wicked smirk.
“Oh! Oh, that’s what this is about? Clavis, your ruses and … gifts always make me second-guess myself. At first I thought it had to do with something sexy, but that’s not usually your style to be so obvious, so I was stumped.” This time, Emma’s giggle was adorably genuine.
The smirk still firmly in place, I waited a moment for her to continue. For her to give the answer I was certain of. For her to say ‘yes’.
But she only just looked at me, mild amusement on her face and nothing else coming out of her pretty mouth.
Well.
I cleared my throat, “Aaaaand, my lovely lover? What is your answer? Do you give me your consent to try all manner of delicious deviant deeds this weekend?”
At this, her perfect cheeks turned a ripe shade of strawberry pink.
Hm, yes that’s more like it.
She asked, “...all manner? Like what?”
Just as I was about to open my mouth and give her a most ambiguous answer, she hurriedly spoke again.
“Nevermind! I don’t think I want to know ahead of time. I trust you. Yes, darling, you have my consent for … kinky things.” Her hesitation towards the end came with downcast eyes and even redder cheeks.
Excellent, excellent.
I clapped my hands once in triumph, crowing, “Wonderful! You can leave all the travel preparations to me. All you need to do is pack your own bag.”
I leaned forward so my face filled her view, and pitched my voice lower and with seriousness, without a trace of my usual flamboyance, “Listen closely.”
She stiffened at this unfamiliar tone, curious eyes never once leaving mine.
“This is what you will pack: 4 pairs of panties and bras, your most comfortable robe, and the new corset you will find in your bottom dresser drawer. That is all. You don’t need anything else to wear on this trip. Nod if you understand.”
Emma hesitated, looking as if she had a question to ask, but then nodded. A timid smile was creeping across her lips.
I wanted very much to kiss it off her face, and then keep kissing her until we were both breathless.
Instead, I kept my composure and merely said, “Good girl. Be ready to go in the morning. Good night, and sweet dreams. I love you.”
After a kiss to her forehead – mm-hmm, her hair smelled heavenly – I stood up to leave.
“Uh- um, good night, darling. I love you, too.”
I closed the door and inhaled deeply. Why did no one warn me that practicing dominance meant that you also were to be exercising extreme self-control on yourself?? Augh!
I had seen a heated glimmer in her eyes, something I’m sure was not there before I gave her her packing orders.
Good. Good.
The experiment was off to a smashing start. I had intended to begin the kink level low, even before we reached my manor. This first part was intended to dictate her actions. By commanding what she must pack, my words and presence would continue to be with her as she is packing. She’ll be thinking about me all night and morning, long before she even sees me in the carriage. Every time she looks at her suitcase, she’ll be reminded of my strong tone of voice.
I wonder if she liked that experience tonight?
Emma liked it. Liked it very, very much. She sat on the sofa for a good long while, savoring the intimidating and arousing aura that Clavis had directed at her. It was so new!
When she finally pulled out the corset he had mentioned, she swallowed hard. This wasn’t a pretty lace and satin thing of lingerie. It was leather, well-stitched and expertly made for durability and comfort. It was an elegant shade of lilac, with an almost pearlescent sheen. Beautiful, actually. There were buckles and straps, metal eyelets and rings attached at various places that had nothing to do with the closures.
Now that she looked at it with a critical eye, the row of three black and gold straps across the front mimicked Clavis’s short uniform coat. She bit back a chuckle at her fiance's audacity before setting to work with packing only the essentials he had mentioned, all the while her imagination filled with images of him.
“Stand here. Don’t move from this spot.”
We had reached my manor without incident, and I immediately went to work on my experiment to discover Emma’s hidden kinks. I removed my white overcoat, boots, and scabbard, placing them on the bench by the bedroom door. Watching her as I loosened the buttons of my lilac jacket and returned in a slow stroll, I noticed she was clutching nervously at her skirt. But she never took a step.
“Should I take off my clothes, too?” Her question was touched with anxiety.
“No,” I cooed, “You only need to do what I tell you to. For right now, place your feet a little further apart so you have better balance. Yes, like that. Well done.”
I delivered my praise with a light caress to her temple. I was pleased to see the glow of warmth was back in her exquisite eyes. My bunny must be liking this already. I wonder what is going on inside that brilliant mind of hers right now?
I slid the dark violet cravat off my collar and stepped around behind her. Silently, I tied it around her head as a blindfold. Only when I was certain it was secure and she couldn’t see, did I lean in close to her ear to whisper huskily, “First: a little sensory deprivation to heighten your other senses.”
She flinched at my nearness, but relaxed soon enough. Next it was time for the wrist cuffs. These were a thing of beauty, crafted by the same skilled leather worker who built Emma’s custom corset. They were made of white leather with padding on the inside and edges, adjustable buckle, and reinforced D-rings. Expertly designed to my specifications.
I gracefully slid my palm down from her shoulder to her wrist, stopping there to encircle her delicate wrist within my thumb and forefinger. Just a moment, just long enough to give her a hint of what was coming. I put one cuff on that wrist, tightening the strap until it was almost flush to her skin. “Tell me: Is that too tight?”
She shook her head. I saw it, but this wouldn’t do. Had she forgotten already?
I tapped her lips with my gloved finger. “Use your words, darling. You must answer out loud when I ask you a question. Now try again: Is this too tight?”
“No. …sir.” The second word was added with apprehension, as if she wasn’t sure she should use the term or not.
Sir?
Hm. I certainly didn’t order her to call me that. Had she read such things in her romance novels? I didn’t want her thinking of those fictional men when I’m right here. Hm. Hmmmm. No. No, I didn’t like it. She needed to call me by my name, dammit.
I held her chin with my thumb to get her attention. “Listen closely: You are to call me Clavis. Not ‘sir’, not ‘master’, not anything else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Clavis,” her answer was confident now.
Good. Very good.
I let go of her chin and put on the other wrist cuff, then snapped the rings of both cuffs together so her hands were bound in the front. She still would have the use of her hands. The object of the cuffs was to give her a small taste of being restrained while I tease the rest of her body.
The next thing was a ball gag. I had made sure to choose the most breathable, most comfortable one intended for beginners. Despite those precautions, I was still worried she might find this item repulsive. Positioning it in front of her mouth, but still an inch away, I warned her, “I have something to put in your mouth. It’s meant to stay there and keep you from talking. If you don’t like how it feels, use the non-verbal sign on tapping me twice to remove it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Clavis.” My lovely fiance opened her mouth obediently.
Such a glorious sight. I wanted to fall to my knees and weep with joy.
But no. No. I must continue to be the one in control.
The Dom.
Right. Back to work.
I set the ball inside her mouth, ordering her to bite down slightly to hold it while I fastened the strap on the side of her head. I waited a moment while watching her face for any signs of discomfort or revulsion. There came none. Just placid trust and patience.
Oh, my sweet, sweet Emma. Well done. Very good. You're being so good for me.
This deserved a reward … which just happened to also be a test. I stepped close to her side, my chest touching her shoulder. My arms encircled her waist to hold her upright as my mouth came a hair-breadth away from her ear. I sighed softly, letting the warm air waft before I assaulted the shell of the ear with kisses, toothy nibbles, and noisy sucking. I didn’t let up until she was fully squirming and seemed unsteady on her feet. But not once did she safe-tap me to stop.
“Ah, your ear is so sensitive now, hm?” I whispered before flicking my tongue out to tickle her ear lobe.
She jerked her head away in surprise, but my arms kept her balanced. I chuckled breathily as her face relaxed and leaned towards me once again. I kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and the side of her neck.
Emma’s muted breathing grew heavier the lower my lips went. Where her blouse collar began I sucked and nipped to leave a splendid mark. I admired it a moment before moving my hands; one to grip the hair at the base of her neck, the other to slowly snake across her stomach and down, traveling over the waistband of her skirt.
I could feel her quiver under my touch, but still she stayed in place. Oh, I’m so proud of you, my sweetest. My hand fisted in her luscious tresses and pulled gently back and to the side so as to expose more of her pure neck to me. I gave a quick peck to the shell of her ear before trailing kisses down her neck again, this time focusing on the erogenous zone where the neck meets the shoulder.
Meanwhile, my other hand continued its journey downward over the beautiful swell of her abdomen, palming her pelvic mound. I pushed the tips of my fingers into the crevice at the apex of her thighs. This earned a shudder from her and a gasp muffled by the ball gag.
So delightful. So trusting. So mine. I love her more than words can say.
I glided my hand upwards to her bound wrists, holding them. My other hand had let go of her hair to settle at the small of her back.
Humming my approval, I pressed a little kiss to her cheek, “You did so well, darling. Such a good girl for me. Now, let’s make you more comfortable, hm?”
After removing the gag, cuffs, and blindfold, I led her to sit on the edge of the bed. She was flushed, but her eyes were bright with delight and curiosity as I knelt in front of her. My hands rubbed back and forth across the tops of her thighs, ruching up the fabric of her skirt.
“Tell me: How did you like the blindfold? The gag? The wrist cuffs?”
Each question was delivered with as calm a voice as I could muster, even though I was bursting at the seams with excitement to know if anything had her galloping with arousal.
She paused before answering, as if she wasn’t expecting to be reviewed on her experience. I smiled and narrowed my eyes.
“Come, come. I’m not looking for an in-depth analysis. Just let me know if any one thing in particular stood out as a favorite.”
Recognition lit her face, as if she had just come up with an answer. As she took a breath to reply, I began unbuttoning her blouse. This action stopped her before any words came out.
Heh, heh. I LOVE to keep her on her toes!
“Don’t mind me, darling. Simply multi-tasking while you talk. Go ahead, now. You were about to say the part you liked the best?” I flashed her an innocent smile, and began to kiss the notch of her throat, eager to keep kissing the skin I exposed while I continued unbuttoning.
She raised an eyebrow in skepticism, but spoke anyway, “I liked it when you gave me orders.”
I was in the process of leaning in to kiss the swell of her breast when this admission caught me by surprise.
Ah!
Darling… ah, my lovely lover. Now it is YOU who have shocked me. Of all the kinky equipment, it was the commands that turned you on the most?
I smiled into her skin as I sucked her nipple into my mouth, earning a responsive jolt and gasp from her. Oh, does she even know how much that answer pleases me?
I pulled away and nodded as sedately as I could, trying not to show how much her reply affected me. “Hm, I see. Thank you for the feedback, dearest. Now, let us continue the experiment, shall we?”
She quirked her eyebrow once more, but I offered no explanation as I finished undressing her and ordered her to lie face-down on the bed. I ran a knuckle lightly over her shoulder blades, murmuring “good girl” as she got comfortable.
The second set of implements were intended to expose her to various temperatures and sensations. I was most interested in the last part of this section: impact play. Would my bunny enjoy being spanked, I wonder?
Over the next few minutes, I subjected her unblemished skin to an ice cube melting over the curve of her buttocks, melted wax dripped down her spine, feathers tickling her rib cage, softest cashmere rubbing up the backs of her creamy thighs, and rubberized mitts dagging over her hips. All the while, I gave her orders to either be silent, or be vocal. To either keep still or to wriggle and writhe.
During the use of the equipment, one of the commands I gave her was to “respond as honestly as you can, however you wish.”
And what was her adorable answer? “No, please, Clavis. Tell me what to do, what to say. Please?”
I couldn’t help but grin broadly at that, glad she could not see how thrilled I was at her plea. Of course I never let her know my joy. Instead, I bent down so my lips were next to her ear, and she twitched from hearing my threatening tone so close to her, “What’s this? Disobedience? Are you telling me what to do?”
She was quick to shake her head, uttering “Nuh-uh. No. I just … I, um… Sorry? I’ll do my best.”
I straightened up and patted her head proudly. “That’s a good girl.”
It was so cute seeing this new side of her! It seemed as if she was truly enjoying herself in this role.
We continued, eventually getting to the impact play portion. I propped her hips up on several pillows so her gorgeous ass was raised high, perfectly poised for my hand.
I noticed a slight glistening of liquid at the lips between her legs.
Hm. Nice. I hadn’t even touched her there yet.
I hadn’t warned her what was coming next. As I was rummaging through my case for the leather paddle, she ventured a timid question, “Clavis? Are you going to fuck me now? Is that why you stacked all these pillows under me?”
“So soon? Oh, no. Not yet, my lovely. Before we can get to that, we have so many more experiments to try.” I saturated my voice with wicked pleasure.
Her head dropped to the mattress, letting out a groan of immense disappointment.
I chuckled, “Oh, don’t sound so discouraged. I thought you were having fun. But …” I paused, inflecting my next words with dramatic self-pity, “... if you’re getting annoyed with me and wish to stop and go back to your books, I’ll understand.”
Emma snorted with amusement. I could sense the frustrated eye-roll she was giving me. “No. ….Ugh, no. Don’t – “ she huffed, pausing a second as if she needed to recollect her submissive act. “PLEASE don’t stop, Clavis. Please?”
I was more than happy to oblige her eager entreaty. She was scrumptious when she acted like this: wanton for me to fill her, but pliant enough to go along with my schemes. I was rock-hard already, my already tight white pants made all the tighter.
“Mm-hm, you asked so nicely. I suppose I could continue.” I rested my gloved hand on her soft bottom, to hint at what was coming. “This next part may be a little intense, darling. So please remember to use the safe-word if you need me to stop. Okay?”
She meekly answered, “Yes, Clavis, I understand.”
“That’s my girl.” I began slowly tapping her butt cheeks lightly, alternating randomly between sides. Then increased the tempo. Then the force, just a bit.
Her ass was slightly pink. Like a peach. Mmmm… so juicy, I could take a bite of that velvety flesh. Fuuuuuck, I want her now.
No.
Not yet.
I removed my gloves and ran my hands soothingly over the skin, reveling in the warmth and softness, trying to rein myself in.
She hadn’t made a sound until my bare palm met her skin – that’s when Emma gave a happy fluttering sigh, like the releasing of doves.
Oh, my sparkling jewel. My beautiful bride-to-be. My everything. How can one exhale from you do such things to my soul?
I took a deep breath and pulled my hand back, aiming for the next series of spankings. Each got progressively harder and closer to her center, near her lips. Droplets of clear nectar dotted the pillows beneath her. It coated my hand more and more as I slapped her pussy. But still she only moaned. She gave no signs of pain or reaching her limit. Marvelous.
I stopped to wipe my sticky hand on a towel, rewarding her with a low-pitched “You’re such a good girl for me. Now, I’ll need you to count each spank, okay? Can you do that for me?”
There was an immediate nod and “Yes, Clavis!”
Again, my domineering posing was protected by her not seeing the big smile I wore. Honestly, I don’t think she had ever been this complaint before. And she seemed so happy to be in this role!
I decided to leave that pondering for a later time, as there was a perky red ass waiting to be slapped right now. I picked up the paddle, and slowly sounded out several hits to the globe of her cheeks, sweeping upwards to channel the force away. She counted as each one turned her skin darker, making it glow with heat.
I stopped my motions, using the cashmere to soothe her inflamed ass and offer a change in sensation.
“Very, very good, dearest.” I picked up an ice cube as I asked, “Now, time for more feedback. Which of these experiences did you like best?”
As if to remind her of where we started, I slid the ice over her buttocks to cool them down. She gasped and shrieked almost in the same breath, jerking her hips at the cold sensation. I kept the ice moving quickly, so as to disperse as much healing coolness as possible. It melted within seconds.
God, her cheeks were red and taut like a ripe plum. She looked good enough to eat.
Ah … That was an excellent idea.
It might be slightly ahead of schedule, but I needed to do SOMETHING to clean up that rivulet running down her inner thigh before it completely drenched the pillows.
She hadn’t answered my question yet.
Hm.
I knelt on the bed behind her and between her legs, gently spreading her thighs with my hands, getting ready to tease her entrance with my tongue as soon as she started speaking.
“Tsk, tsk, I asked a question. You need to answer. Now.”
Emma began, “Well, I re–EEEE! Ah, mmmm!”
I had lapped ravenously at her juices, rejoicing at the lewd sounds it made. And at her own vocal additions, too, of course. I loved her squeals, her moans, her gasps, her groans.
I pulled away just long enough to give her a warning, the hungry growl in my voice not intentional, “Answer, Emma,” before diving back in to finish cleaning her up.
I could get drunk on how she tasted, how she smelled. The musky fragrance filled my lungs. How much longer could I hold out before needing to have her?
She managed to eek out a few words, no semblance of formal sentence structure to be found. Something along the lines of, “Commands. You, your touch. With orderssss. ….f-force me. Love spanking. Pleeeeease, please…. More, more control.”
Those were the words I was able to make out between the whines.
Hm.
She wants to be controlled more? That fit well into my next set of plans.
I petted her hair fondly as I gave her time to come down from the stimulation. “Very well, my lovely fiance. You’ve done so well for me. I think you’re liking this, aren’t you?”
She turned her head my way and dared a glance up. I knelt next to the bed so she wouldn’t have to strain her neck to see me. Her face was beet-red, eyes moist and dreamy, a sleepy smile on her lips. She had caught her breath by now.
“I am. Oh, I am, Clavis. But …” She bit her lip, eyes sliding away from mine.
I knew that look. I LOVED that look. She wanted something, but was feeling foolish for asking. I wanted to pull the truth out of her. Tease it gently, unravel it thread by thread until her innermost wishes were laid bare, safe and vulnerable in my hands.
I began to stroke her hair again, and her eyelids immediately fell shut in contentment. Soft as a summer breeze, I asked “But what, my love? You must tell me, or I’ll never know.”
Her relaxed features twisted suddenly in annoyance, eyes no longer moony but now flashing with sparks. I stopped petting her, doing my best to keep a look of total innocence on my face.
Of course I knew what she wanted.
I wanted it, too.
But not yet.
…Not. Yet.
“Clavis. I want you to make love to me. You already know; I said it before. Please? Don’t … don’t make me ask for it again.”
“Ohhhh, that. Hm,” my tone was non-committal, teasing. I leaned in to kiss her temple, smiling where she couldn’t see me. “Don't worry, I will satisfy you completely. In due time, in due time. But before that can happen, there are just a few more experiences I need you to have, and then review.”
I was being an absolute villain. I was pushing the bounds of her patience.
Would she angrily stomp out of here, cursing my name?
Or would she remain, but grow sullen and cold to my touches?
A plaintive whine left her throat, surprising me. Emma's gaze smoldered, the fiery frustration giving way to a simmering desire. And there was something else in her face … was it uncertainty? She reached out to grip my wrist, a silent request.
What was this about? Was she unwell after all? For a moment, my mask slipped. Concern pinched my brows. My voice was naked, forgetting to dress up in neither dominance nor feigned innocence, “Emma? Are you really okay with continuing?”
She must have sensed my seriousness, because she squeezed my wrist in reassurance before letting go as she nodded. “Yes, truly. I’m sorry if I made you worry. I only whined because … because I am so SO ready for you, and I don’t want to wait any longer. But most of all, I don’t want to beg. And it … it feels like you are pushing me to the brink in hopes of making me beg, like I’m some dog,” her pretty mouth turned down in disgust, “Is that what you are doing? Please, be honest, just this once, no tricks. What is your aim in all these sexy experiments?”
Ah.
So this is something new I have learned about her. Fascinating.
“Sweetest. Darling. I admit I am trying to find out your limits for certain things, but not the boundary you’d cross for begging. My aim, hm? I promise I’ll tell you when all the tests are done. So you keep your pleas unspoken, I do not want you to beg. I only want your honest reactions. I won’t leave you unfulfilled.”
“Promise? I feel like you’re teasing me much more than usual.” A pout began to form on her luscious lips.
“I promise.” I brushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear and pressed another kiss to her temple before standing up. “Now, let’s have you sit up so I can put one little thing on you before you lie on your back.”
My goodness, what a glorious sight.
Was there any man on this earth as lucky as me, to be blessed with seeing his lovely lover trussed up, spread out, and waiting in complete trust? I stood back to take in the full view, and swallowed hard.
I had taken great delight in lacing her up in the custom-made corset, seeing the leather pulling taut against her breasts. Her wrists were back in the cuffs, attached to the headboard. One leg was bent at the knee, pulled back as far to her torso as was comfortable, and then bound in that position with the lavender rope. Her other leg was restrained at a similar angle in a white leather straps to match her cuffs (a gentleman makes sure his lady’s accessories always match), clipped to the rings in the side of her corset.
It was an uncoordinated sort of look, more slap-dash than I had originally planned. Also, I was irked at not getting to try out the nipple clamps, but they wouldn’t work at the same time as having her wear the corset.
Was I rushing the schedule?
Perhaps.
Was I loading up all the implements and toys in one go, instead of one at a time like I had originally planned?
Maybe.
Was it because I was hanging on to my self-control by a thread?
Yes.
Yes, absolutely.
I had been straining at the front of my trousers so tightly that I decided to remove them and everything else I was wearing.
“Comfortable, darling?” I asked as I walked around to the head of the bed once more. Emma eyed my erection greedily, licking her lips.
But she only said, “Yes, Clavis.”
Her voice was sweetly obedient. The sound of it made me proud enough to crow from the rooftops.
“Then let’s begin our last set of experiences. You asked for me to be even more controlling, so that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Don’t forget to use the safe-word if you need to. Do keep in mind that I will be asking for feedback. So try to keep track of how everything I do makes you feel.”
I kissed her full on the mouth quickly – too quickly so she wouldn’t have time to reciprocate – then gave her a cheeky wink before strolling to the foot of the bed, where I had a tray waiting with lube and various toys, plugs, dildos, and vibrators.
Choices, choices.
Where to start?
I looked adoringly at the two holes presented to me: one inviting and glistening, the other shy and puckered closed. Hidden at the top of this sight was the precious little rosebud that led to the high-pitched squeals I loved so much.
Deciding to start out slow with minimal invasion, I lubed up the tiny anal probe vibrator and smeared a dollop at the entrance of her ass. I felt her shiver at the touch, yet I pushed in slowly, slowly with the tip of my finger until it was finally granted at admittance. Emma gasped. I slid the probe in next to my finger until it was all the way in where it needed to be. Then I moved my finger in and out slowly a few times to help that area relax, to get her familiar with the sensation.
When I pulled my finger out, I pressed a lubed-up anal plug to the entrance until it sunk in. There came a tiny groan from my lady love. The facets of the princess-cut amethyst at the end of the plug caught the light and twinkled at me. I couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction at the view. I decided right at that moment to buy her matching amethyst earrings made with the same exact cut. It would be our own little private joke when she wears them in public.
“Turning it on, my dove,” I crooned a warning before toggling the switch on the probe.
“Huh? Turning wha–aaAHH!” Her hips jolted off the bed as soon as the vibrator went to work in her pert little asshole.
Miniscule moans were uttered from the head of the bed as I began to prepare the next toy: a dildo with a harness that connected to her corset rings to keep in place, so it wouldn’t get pushed out in her exertion. It was needed since my hands would be busy elsewhere. No lube was needed for this one; she was already wet enough to have a pool gathering on the purple towel underneath her. I rubbed the head and shaft along her folds, coating it in her essence.
This earned an audible inhale from her; does she know how her sounds drive me mad with lust?
I pushed it in slowly, letting her adjust to the size. It was another custom-designed item, made especially for tonight. She hadn’t seen this dildo before, but if she had there would have been recognition in the length and girth, even the slight angle. Of course it was a product of my ego. But if she was going to have anything inside her besides me, then I wanted to be like me in every way possible.
Once it was in all the way up to the hilt, I pulled it out at a lazy drag asking, “Still feeling fine, sweetest?”
“Uh-huh,” she confirmed while wiggling her hips to bring back some friction. The restraints of leather and rope made this futile effort extremely entertaining. I gave her what she wanted: I thrust the toy in and out repeatedly at her favorite pace. The languid moans rose in frequency and pitch.
God, she was magnificent.
I. Needed. Her. Now.
I held onto my sanity long enough to thrust it in one last time before attaching it to the harness. A questioning whine came from her throat as she saw me move to the side of the bed with the tray. From her vantage point, she wouldn’t be able to see the vibrators I was going to use.
Okay, time to get into the role, Clavis.
You can do this.
This is the last big hurrah. Time to finish things up exactly how she’d like. With complete control.
I wonder: when she asked me to take more control, did she have any premonition that I’d be ending the experiment with edging and orgasm control?
I began to tease her clit with the lowest setting on the most gentle toy. Switched over to a powerful wand for an intense but short time. Then switched to an intermediate one, moving all the way through the speeds, gauging her reactions. I was careful to keep an ear to her breathing while watching the telltale signs of her hips.
All the while I was changing the toys to keep her on her toes, I was issuing commands. Things like: countdown from 5, stay silent, moan loudly, scream my name (that one was fun), keep still, don’t you dare cum yet, etc.
Each time she obeyed, I rewarded her with a “good girl” and a deep kiss. Sometimes I just kissed her through the exquisite trials of a particular vibrator. Other times I slowly massaged her sensitive bundle of nerves with my thumb, sometimes my tongue. I lavished attention on that treasure until her chest was heaving with exertion and the breathing was ragged.
I had lost count of the times I brought her almost up the edge and then brought her back down.
I moved all the vibrators aside and sat on the edge of the bed so she could see my face.
This goddess, this angel, was mine. Completely mine.
Sweat-soaked face, eyes glazed over with lust, lips dry from panting, hair a total mess.
She had never been lovelier.
And never once did she beg. No plea of “Just let me cum!” There had been plenty of cursing and saying my name as if it was a curse itself. Lots of delicious moaning, gasping, squealing, and sighing. But no begging.
Amazing. My Emma was simply amazing.
I let her catch her breath before I reached out to cup her cheek and ask, “Now, if you please, I would like some feed-”
…”CLAVIS.” Her hoarse voice was serious. As were her eyes.
I stopped talking immediately, my attention entirely on what she thought was important enough to interrupt our review. My elegant eyebrows lifted in silent inquiry.
“No feedback,” was all she said.
I echoed her, asking “No feedback?”
“No feedback,” she repeated.
“Care to elaborate, dearest?” I cooed while stroking the side of her face with my thumb.
“No.”
I started to panic a little. She hadn’t used the safe-word, so I had thought she was enjoying being endlessly edged to hell and back. Had I been wrong? Had I missed a cue? Did I hurt her, and she was just being brave? Was she angry with me?
Something resembling concern must have made it through my mask of dominance, for she sighed and added, “I’m not injured or sore. Maybe a little overstimulated. But I’m fine. I would have used the safeword if I had been unsure about continuing. So don’t look so worried, Clavis.”
Ah.
…okay.
I was flummoxed as to what made her so taciturn all of a sudden.
“You want your feedback, don’t you? Then you’ll get it. But only after you satisfy me.” That severe expression held no room for compromise.
I loved seeing her so serious. She was breathtaking. How I loved her!
As my lips began to curl into a pleased smile, she cut in with a demand of her own: “Fuck me, Clavis. Now.”
My smile froze.
Great heavens, she was irresistible like this.
I felt compelled to obey, even though I had been the one issuing commands all day. I attempted to remain smooth and masterful as I lowered my face within inches of hers.
Feigning nonchalance, I said, “I suppose I could make a compromise, since my lovely fiance is so desperate for me.”
She rolled her eyes, quirking her mouth into a wry expression. “Well, get on with it. I’m … I am – ugh, Clavis, don’t you … ?“
I forstalled her fumbling words by pressing a kiss to those pouting lips, giving her time to gather her words. Would she beg, I wonder?
At last she mumbled, “I need you. Don’t you … need me, too? Or is this teasing torture all you want?” Those tender eyes slid away from mine, downcast.
Arrows. To the heart. A barrage of steel-tipped bolts lodged in my chest, stealing my breath.
Oh, my precious. Had I made you doubt my desire for you?
She hadn’t begged or bargained after all. She hadn’t needed to. Not that I ever wanted her to. That hadn’t been my goal.
My goal.
Oh.
In the delicious taunting and torment, I had almost lost sight of why I started all this.
I wanted to find out her secret kinks, her guilty pleasures.
Sighing an apology, I hurriedly kissed her lips. “No, no, my sweetheart, my dove, my everything. Of course I need you. I’m sorry. The –”
–” then why –” she began.
I immediately rushed in with the explanation she deserved, – “because I wanted to discover what set you aflame. You already know I’m crazy about your thighs. And well, everything about you, truly. And you know all my weaknesses. You know how to drive me wild. I feel at your mercy every time we are in bed. I … I simply had to find at least one of your fetishes, a kink, a secret touch or toy that made you lose yourself to me the way I feel helpless around you.”
There.
I had come clean.
I feared she would laugh, even though I knew my darling would never ridicule me when I was laid vulnerable to her like this.
And yet.
I was scared anyway.
I felt more naked than I actually was. Like my chest was open, heart exposed.
“Ohhhh. Clavis.” Her sympathetic sigh was balm to my nerves. My name on her lips was full of love and acceptance. Not a scrap of judgment or mocking was present.
She began to reach her hands to me, forgetful of their bondage. The clanking metal of the cuffs’ links jangled me out of my self-pity, reminding me to school my features into something less pathetic.
“Let’s get you out of these, hm? I think the sexy experiment is over. It yielded no results.” I attempted to sound like my usual self as I unclasped the leather restraints from the headboard.
“You’re wrong, honey. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” The sultry smile on her face grew.
I simply blinked at her while I undid the buckles to free her wrists.
Emma continued, “Perhaps the feedback wasn’t what you expected. But I could have told you what you wanted to know without going to all the trouble.”
Hmmm?? What was this?
She bit her lip slyly before adding, “Not that I didn’t like the, um, experiments. It was a fun and new experience with you.”
I kept silent, but nodded to encourage her to continue. What was she going to divulge?
I moved to the foot of the bed to undo the ropes on one leg and the leather straps on the other as she spoke.
“None of those toys or equipment were something that unlocked a new deviant side of myself. There was no one particular place you touched or action you did that wasn’t more special or spicy than the others. But there was one constant throughout the entire adventure that kept me aroused more than anything else.”
After I tossed the rope and restraints to the floor, I noticed the imprints left behind. Little lines indented her supple skin. My fingers traced them gently, lovingly. Her thighs were like a canvas for the rope patterns. I was relieved to see there were no angry red marks. I kissed the trail of criss-crossing marks, reveling in the softness of her glorious legs.
She paused, as if waiting for me to give her my full attention. I rose from my worship of the world’s most perfect thighs and asked, “Oh? You’re giving me feedback after all? Lucky me. Do go on,” I purred as my palms glided from her hips to her knees.
“It was how you acted. You were still Clavis. The Clavis I love. But you were also … more. Different. It was the domineering act you put on. The way you commanded me to do or not do something. I loved submitting to your orders. I … I enjoyed putting myself completely in your control. Because I trust you. And because it felt exhilarating to be at the whims of a man who usually is out of control.”
She giggled, giving me a knowing look. It was the truth. I didn’t interrupt her to say she was wrong.
Emma went on, “You are chaos incarnate, sweetie. Your political plans are masterful, but your outward attitude is so flippant, so unpredictable, that nobody realizes how dastardly clever you truly are. But today you behaved differently. You were so sure of yourself. Sure of what reactions you wanted to pull out of me. And that was what put me into a frenzy more than anything. It was seeing you execute whatever plan you had in mind, and entrusting myself to your care. Because I love you and I know you would never hurt me.”
My mouth had gone dry and I realized at some point my hands had stopped their trek across her sumptuous legs.
The full impact of what she said was still hitting me: None of the bondage gear or implements or sensation tricks I used were effective at uncovering a new kink.
It had been me! And her! It had been the Dom/sub roleplay that had been at the heart of her arousal this whole time.
I almost laughed out of sheer exhaustion at realizing that we hadn’t needed any of the periphery, not a single whip or blindfold or toy.
All we needed was the two of us.
“It’s you. You’re my kink.” Her sheepish words echoed my thoughts. “There’s your feedback. Now. Ahem. Clavis, I believe you were FINALLY about to fuck me, right?”
“One hundred percent correct, my lovely lover. But first let’s get this off you. I don’t want anything between us.” I made fast work of the buckles on the front of her corset.
Taking into account how tired and sensitive she was from all my previous ministrations that day, I didn’t over-exert our love-making. That first time, at least. The rest of the weekend was full of intense, laborious exercise in bed. I gave in to every one of her whims and requests.
On our final afternoon in the manor, Emma slid off of me, panting, before she caught her breath enough to speak her mind. It somehow flowed from the conversation we had had on that very first day of the experiment.
“No one gives you enough credit for all the effort and intellect. You keep your brainpower too well hidden, and it frustrates me that people don’t appreciate how smart and resourceful you are. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think I love a fool? How it feels to have everyone look at my husband-to-be like he’s just some weird idiot, instead of the intelligent and caring and amazing man he is inside? Do you? I don’t think you do, sweetie. It’s infuriating. And you never correct them!”
“Heh. And neither will you. Ever. I prefer it that way. And you know why.”
She did. And it set my heart aflame to know that she understood my wiles and reasons, yet still got angry on my behalf.
Oh, darling. I don’t deserve you.
Knowing that she adored my hard work and brains was enough to spark a dozen new ideas for the next time we had a weekend away.
She loved my cunning. And my cunnilingus. I would put both to work next time, along with that domineering side that drove her wild.
I grinned wickedly.
She saw it, and responded with a wicked smile of her own. “Uh-oh, what does THAT look mean? You look positively villainous… I love it.”
💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
AUTHOR’S NOTES:
😏 I’m curious to see what the readers think their safe-word is? Comment or reblog with your idea! I can’t wait to see what you guess! Hee hee!!! 😘
I don't usually write in first-person PoV. But for some reason when I started this, Clavis INSISTED he be the one to speak. The words must come from his mouth and not from a disinterested observer. Pfft. Okay, pal. Man, he can be pushy. And he's SO GOOD at getting his way!!
Kokoro! Bryn had mentioned you said “It’s Valentine’s Day, I want them to fuck!” 😏🤣 LOLOLOL And here I realized by the time the D/s scenario had wrapped up, Clavis still hadn’t DONE THE DEED. 😳🥹 Ack! I’m sorry! 🙈🙃😅 It was implied that they did, indeed, fuck several times during their weekend away. But I didn’t have time to write it all out. I’m sure the scenes would be far more delicious and steamy in your imagination than I could put them into words. So please visualize to your heart’s content! 😈😉
#my fanfic#my writing#My Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange#ikepri clavis#My Ikemen Valentine#Gift Exchange#Creative Exchange#Content Exchange#Creative Challenge#ikemen prince clavis#clavis lelouch#clavis x emma#clavis x mc#ikepri fanfic#ikemen prince fanfic#clavis lelouch PoV#clavis lelouch fanfic#ohtomatotome#clavis lelouch and emma#his PoV#Clavis says GOOD GIRL at least six times#Soft Dom Clavis#D/s fanfic#Dom/sub fanfic#Ikémen Prince#Ikémen Creative Exchange#Ikémen Prince fanfic#It's You You're My Kink
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soo..... Yeah... I made another one.
Y'all remember that scene in chev's route where Emma was on a ladder and then fell and chev did nothing and just watched? Yeah, that's where this came from.
Oh and I made this also.
That's Nokto hugging her btw. They have a weird foxes flocking together type of relationship.
Not necessarily friends but more like, the person who carries Nokto back home.
And you can bet your ass that he just wrapped his greasy ass self around her like it's nobodies business all drunk and smelling like "midnight trysts" 🤮. You can't blame her for being annoyed.
#ikemen prince#ikemen#ikemen talk#kohai talks#kohai#ikepri x reader#ikepri oc#ikepri emma#ikepri nokto#ikepri jin#ikepri leon#ikepri clavis#ikepri chevalier#ikepri yves#ikepri licht#ikepri gilbert von obsidian#ikepri gilbert#ikepri keith#ikepri silvio#ikemen prince sariel#ikepri sariel#ikepri#ikepri luke#ikepri fanart
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.
Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜
Clavis x Emma
Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers
WC: ~2k
The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.
Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.
Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.
“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”
At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments.
“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”
She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.
Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.
“Well? Where is it?”
“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.
One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”
He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”
Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”
He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.
“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”
“No. No, I do not.”
He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth.
“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”
“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!”
He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.
“Such an impatient pumpkin.”
“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.
Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.
She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.
“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”
She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.
She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.
Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.
“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?
He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.
“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.
“We should try that again.”
“Try what again, exactly?”
“Touching.”
She should be balking at the very suggestion.
She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop.
She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again.
And she really really should not be saying-
“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”
The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.
Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.
Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.
When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.
“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”
The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them.
….if we actually…..
….kiss….
Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him.
What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him.
He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.
“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”
Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.
At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.
Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.
Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.
Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens.
And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.
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 @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri clavis#clavis lelouch#ikemen clavis#ikemen prince exchange#magic au#soulmates au#first kiss#enemies to lovers#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#violettwrites
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 ❞
╰┈➤ 💜 Clavis seduces Emma in a bunny suit so she can finally pop his cherry.
Clavis Lelouch x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags:Bunny Suits; Bunny Ears; bunny tail; that one Clavis card; Virginity; Virginity Kink; Making Out; Sloppy Makeouts; Dom!Emma; sub!Clavis; Femdom; Neck Kissing; Biting; Groping; Premature Ejaculation; Coming Untouched; Coming In Pants • wordcount: 1,495 • masterlist
"Welcome home, Emma. I've been waiting for you."
The wave of shock that washes over Emma's being brings forth an unmistakable familiar and dangerous warmth that traverses from her cheeks straight down to her nethers. It doesn't leave her time to breathe, to think, yet the words still manage their way out.
"Clavis, what are you wearing?"
Hand still on the doorknob, Emma's eyes are cast down low, at the figure kneeling on the floor. Clavis' tall, slender form is clad in a tight suit, squeezing his flesh in all the right places. Clavis lowers his head as if desperate to rub himself all over her legs, showing the joy of a domesticated animal welcoming his owner home, and in the act, a pair of long faux ears brush past Emma's frame. From the position he's taking on the floor, she can see the star of the outfit - an obscene protrusion on his rear, white and fluffy. A bunny tail.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm your little bunny in heat. I'm beginning you to finally, finally take me."
Emma's blood runs hot, fingers curling inwards until she can feel her own nails dig into the inside of her palm. It emphasizes their positions on the spot. She has claws, and Clavis is soft, pliant, vulnerable, practically begging. She can do whatever she wishes with him.
His methods of seduction are an incitement to riot, as she barely needs stimulus to desire him. Yet Clavis puts on so much effort for her. He moves his body alluringly in a way he's never done for anyone; he gazes at her in a way he's never gazed at anyone. The littlest things about him are enough, all those things he doesn't even suspect are erotic, so how is she to endure the current situation?
"On the bed, Clavis."
The man on his knees smirks as he obediently bows, turning around to comply with her wish. Emma's eyes follow his rump. Of course they do. He gives her so much to look at.
She'll have to give that tail a little squeeze later.
Emma follows him to the bed and climbs up, signaling for Clavis to come closer. He sits on the place between her legs, leaning slightly backward as he props himself up with a hand, chest puffed out. Ready for her next move.
Emma reaches two greedy hands to grasp his waist, and she pulls him in closer, letting his scent engulf her completely. Has he always had such a perfect waist? It's not tiny enough for her hands to properly enwrap it, but rather just enough to desperately try to tighten her hands enough to fit more.
"Kiss me, Clavis. You know how to do this much, right?"
Way better than a virgin does, she refrains from adding, for the sake of her own composure. They've made out before, but never took the next step. The amount of heated kisses they'd shared had been enough to see Clavis become bold and risqué in his need for more, often kissing her breathless. The bulge in his pants has always been alluring but it's never been quite the time or the place. Partly because Clavis has a penchant for being at the wrong time, in the wrong place.
His lips are now planted against her own, and he already begins with his game. No time for lovey-dovey kisses, even if they're to his liking as well. His tongue slips between Emma's parted lips, making his way in, provoking her. It turns her rasped breaths into moans, and she doesn't mind it even this early on. If she's being vocal, he'll start being vocal too. For the time being, she lets him lead the kiss. It's almost like he shows what he wants to be done to him in return, she thinks. Although he's a gentleman through and through. His demonstration simply can't be as true to his desires.
He withdraws, and keeps his mouth open, tongue poking out. Emma doesn't wait for the thin thread of saliva between them to break; as long as he took a breath he should be fine for continuing where they left. It's like they never stopped the kiss that way.
She takes it easy on him when she takes the lead, dragging her tongue on his plump lower lip as if asking for entrance. It humiliates him a little, as if they're still not past this stage, as if he needs that - but strangely it's only lust he feels as a response. He answers properly to the gesture, obediently parting his lips to be penetrated, and Emma slips her tongue in.
"Nngn…"
Emma takes notes of all the little things that push Clavis' buttons; like curving her tongue to caress the underside of his tongue, or withdrawing to scare him with a too-early end of the kiss. She wants to learn more and more about how he wants to be kissed, touched, loved.
"Haah… haha.. You can get more handy than that, Emma."
He needn't say more. Emma's hands move from where they've held Clavis' waist, leaving unmistakable warmth behind as their imprints, and they travel up his back. Emma traverses it with hands alone from one side to the other, measuring him up, taking note of the hard places of him just like the soft ones, following the curves of his shoulders, the dips of the junction between them and his neck. It's an endearing gesture, until she cards her fingers through the short purple hair on the back of his head, upwards, taking both of his sleek black bunny ears in her grasp.
He doesn't feel the tug in the way an actual appendix would, of course, but his groan is sincere, and the action successfully makes him tilt his head back to reveal his slender neck.
Emma leaches on it, her glistening lips wetting his neck as she sinks her teeth into the column of his neck. He's so weak to neck kisses, she can practically feel him get hard where they're pressed body to body.
Leaving only one hand on his head, she lets the other one get playful and travel back down. The moment she's past the leather of his belt, Clavis' body rocks forward, and his rear lifts off the bed. He's on his knees now, between Emma's parted legs, arms snaking around her shoulders for support as she keeps kissing and nibbling at his neck.
With his behind now in full reach, Emma gets bolder, squeezing and groping his rump, the back of his thighs, and finally his fluffy white tail. It makes a little wicked smile bloom on her face. She lacks all of those adorable assets, yet Clavis sees her as his little bunny. She understands now, both the endearment and the lust behind it. Though it's a little scary that they've both become like that - with carnivores and prey it's quite linear. They devour until they're sated. With rabbits, well, Emma knows what people say about rabbits.
Clavis moans now, open and vulgar, and each vocalization of his arousal makes his Adam's apple move where Emma can feel it under her lips. It makes her see hot-white behind her eyelids that fell closed amidst it all. She wants to be locked in that tango forever; to see how Clavis gets worse and worse, until they finally cross that line, to take and take from each other until there's nothing they haven't done to the other.
"Ahh-- Nghh!" Clavis' head trashes, and it makes Emma's sucking at his skin a little difficult as her lips begin to miss their target. She makes him stay in place again, nails biting on the fabric of his suit, pressing him closer to her. His moans become hopeless now, and she feels proud of herself, just a tad curious which part made him like this. Clavis riots in his flesh restraints again, though he can easily remove himself from her grasp with his strength alone. She lets him have his breath, letting go and catching a glimpse of his face that she began to miss.
He's a mess, cheeks flushed red, hair disheveled, and faux ears askew and flopping to the side. Although he pants heavily, he finds it in himself to smirk. It's a rather mischievous one; not the kind to signal achievement of his goal but rather that he's done something forbidden.
"Nnnh…You handled your bunny a little too rough and he creamed his pants."
Eyes widening, Emma feels a fresh wave of arousal wash over her as the words sink in. She's stunned, a little guilty, a little curious… but as her gaze shamelessly shifts to his trousers to see a little wet spot on the front of his still-tented crouch, she's sure she's never seen anything more erotic in her life. She wets her lips to speak up.
"Looks like my little bunny in heat will stay a virgin for a little longer."
Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @princess-pray-a @aceuuuuu @claviscollections Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince clavis#ikepri clavis#ikemen prince clavis lelouch#ikemen clavis#clavis lelouch#ikeprince clavis#ikemen series#ikeseries#ikepri fanfic#ikemen prince fanfic#ikepri smut#ikemen fanfic#ikemen smut#otome#otome games#ikepri emma#ikemen prince emma#ikepri mc#ikemen emma#ikeprince
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ikémen Prince Gift Exchange Masterlist
Thank you to everyone who chose to participate in this event and helped make it a success! Everyone is so talented, and I am in awe of all of you <3 Going through all your pieces have been truly enjoyable and I've loved every minute of it!
Prove It To Me | Jin Grandet x Reader | by @nightghoul381 for xxsycamore
They Say Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder | Nokto Klein x Emma (MC) | by @xxsycamore for nightghoul381
Unaccepted Together | Clavis Lelouch x Reader | by @nightghoul381 for scummy-writes
Autumn Daze | Gilbert Von Obsidian x MC | by @scummy-writes for daegupaksu
A Starry Tryst (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x Noele (OC) | by @daegupaksu for drachonia
Sea at Sunrise (Artwork) | Silvio Ricci x MC | by @drachonia for nightghoul381
Bookmarked Dialogue | Keith Howell x Julie (OC) | by @ikemenlibrary for queengiuliettafirstlady
The Gentle Stag Rewrites The Stars | Keith Howell x MC | by @queengiuliettafirstlady for ridiculouslly-ridiculous
Princess Picnic Pick Me Up | Rio Ortiz, Clavis Lelouch, Silvio Ricci, Gilbert Von Obsidian, MC | by @ridiculouslly-ridiculous for misty-moth
Peter Clavis and the Lost Boys (Artwork) | Clavis Lelouch, Nokto Klein, Luke Randolph | by @misty-moth for pondlilies00
Take a Rest (Artwork) | Sariel Noir x MC | by @pondlilies00 for alydra (bluejay-writes)
This is fine. | Chevalier Michel x MC | by @bluejay-writes for randonauticrap
Ember Glows the Heart | Leon Dompteur x MC/Reader | by @randonauticrap for myonlyjknight
A Clavish Day Off | Clavis Lelouch x MC | by @myonlyjknight for claviscollections
Petrichor | Yves Kloss x MC/Reader | by @claviscollections for pillowpillowillow
The Voyager Prince (Artwork) | Silvio Ricci | by @pillowpillowillo for aquilapolariz
In Business, In Life | Silvio Ricci x Hyacinth (OC) | by @aquilapolariz for tacogawa
La Belle et la Bête (Artwork) | Leon Dompteur x MC | by @tacogawa for kokorokai
The Tyrant's New Wife (Artwork) | Silvio Ricci x Airin D'Avalos (OC) | by @kokorokai for airin-queenz
Chilly Morning's Date | Licht Klein x MC | by @airin-queenz for ikemenlibrary
Read to Me | Chevalier Michel x MC | by @ikeromantic for aquagirl1978
What Was I Made For | Gilbert Von Obsidian x Rosemary (OC) | by @aquagirl1978 for prisoniclover
Return | Leon Dompteur x Emma (MC) | by @prisoniclover for chirp-a-chirp
Cat-astrophe | Clavis Lelouch x MC | by @chirp-a-chirp (with art by @aide-falls) for katriniac (ohtomatotome)
Getting There is Half the Fun | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @ohtomatotome for violettduchess
Practical Magic | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @violettduchess for ikeromantic
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince art#ikemen prince fan art#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikemen prince fanfic#ikepri fan art#ikepri fanfic#clavis lelouch#gilbert von obsidian#licht klein#nokto klein#leon dompteur#chevalier michel#yves kloss#keith howell#silvio ricci#sariel noir#rio ortiz#jin grandet
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
Clavis Lelouch • Clavis x Emma • Tags: Fluff; Crack; Pranks; Mischief; Cat-puns • Word Count: ~1900 • Triggers: None • Brief appearances by Chevalier, Cyran, and Sariel
Title: Cat-astrophe
Description: It’s Clavis. Of course there’s chaos! This time, in feline form 😸
For @katriniac as a part of the Ikemen Prince Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary and @saeyoungs-sunflower 😊
Cat-inspired Clavis drawing (aka Catvis) done by @aide-falls
…
“This doesn’t look like a good idea.”
“You’re right, my dear. It’s a perfectly wicked one!” Clavis flicked a finger at the glass bottle he was holding. The bottle contained a light purple liquid that bubbled and fizzled like champagne. It appeared benign, even pleasant looking, until one looked directly above at the ceiling and the soot that covered it. Emma opened a window to let out the plumes of smoke that lingered.
“Most liquids don’t spontaneously burst into flames.” Emma coughed pointedly, moving her hands in a fanning motion to push the smoke outside.
“Unless Licht is cooking, haha!”
“Will you tell me what it is you’re trying to make at least?”
Clavis put down the bottle. “And where would the fun in that be?” He smirked, a look of utter delight on his face. “I DO have the antidote to this—well, most of it.” Clavis gestured to a second glass bottle with a light bluish tint to it. Emma’s eyes widened.
“Could it be that my lovely lover is worried for me?” Clavis tweaked Emma’s nose playfully. “It’s not as if this liquid will make me disappear or anything!” His eyes flashed, with a hint of challenge to them. “And even if it did, I’m sure you’d find me.”
…
The next day, Clavis was gone.
His disappearance had not been noticed until late morning, when a terrified palace butler was forced to wake up Chevalier instead of Clavis. None of the princes seemed particularly bothered at this development. As Emma made inquiries, their reactions were varied—relief from Yves (Licht and I can have a tea party uninterrupted!); mockery laced with pity from Nokto (you’re getting a day off from him; isn’t that a good thing?); and the equivalent of a princely shrug from Leon (I haven’t seen smoke since yesterday, so I’m sure he’s fine.). But, they all agreed on one thing—they hadn’t seen Clavis.
Emma entered Chevalier’s private library hoping he’d know what was going on. She placed a rare romance book from Jade on a side table near where Chevalier sat reading. There was an approving nod as elegant fingers picked up the book. He offered a rather unusual hint.
“My fool of a brother lost one of his nine lives today.”
Emma tilted her head. “Can you elaborate on that?”
“Do you have the next installment of this book?”
“It won’t be published until next month!”
“Then our conversation ends now, Simpleton.” The corner of Chevalier’s mouth lifted as he placed the book in his lap. As Emma left the room, she heard Chevalier say one more thing.
“He’s not complicated. He needs something from you, but cannot bring himself to admit it.”
Chevalier’s words echoed in Emma’s head as she headed toward Clavis’ bedroom. She took out a key from her dress pocket, heart lurching at the breach of privacy.
The room was virtually the same as it was when she was with Clavis yesterday. Emma knew he saw this place as a shrine to his failures, a testament to mediocrity. But, she saw much more—it was a place of studiousness, ingenuity, and childish delight. Books on law, pharmacology, science, and philosophy were neatly arranged on his bookshelf. One of the middle shelves held a cup with the phrase #1 worst emblazoned on it—a gag gift Emma had bought Clavis when they first became a couple. She grabbed a book at random and noted with a smile that the book was highlighted in numerous colors, with notes in the margins about various herbs that could be used for different smoke traps.
Emma placed the book back on the shelf and glanced at various pieces of paper attached to the wall above his writing desk. The papers contained lists with the number of traps discovered by other people. Various palace staff and princes had tick marks next to their names, each tick mark indicating a trap they had fallen into. Yves encompassed one entire sheet of paper by himself, and to Emma’s surprise, Chevalier had one mark next to his name. She’d have to ask Clavis about THAT story.
But Emma had to find him first. She sat at his desk chair, feeling lonely. She looked down at her hands—Clavis had held her hand so often in their adventures; she now felt empty without it.
I know you feel like you’re not enough Clavis. But you are. Where are you?
“Meow?”
Emma turned her head at the sound. A beautiful long-haired cat emerged from behind Clavis’ couch. Its paws, the tip of its tail, and its chest were light grey while the rest of its body was purple. The cat’s eyes were golden and sparkling with mischief.
“Are you lost little one?” The cat jumped in Emma’s lap, nesting between her thighs as if it thought it belonged there. “You’re not the only one who likes that spot. Though your touch is gentler.” Emma chuckled, scratching the cat behind its ears. She then noticed the cat wore a dark purple necktie that looked remarkably familiar. Embedded in the center of the necktie was a tag containing a name—Catvis.
Catvis leaped onto the desk, its tail bristling (Emma corrected herself…the cat was decidedly male). He pushed a drawer open with a paw and fished out a gold-chained necklace with his teeth. The necklace held two golden medallions—one reading “Catvis” and the other “Accomplice”. Emma swore she saw the cat smirk as he dropped the necklace in her lap.
A notion so absurd it bordered on ludicrous flitted into Emma’s head. She reached out her hand and patted the cat on his head. “Clavis, is that you?”
The cat practically pranced with joy. He head butted Emma’s hand, leaning into her touch, before jumping deftly onto her lap again, exposing his belly.
Emma shook her head in disbelief. “The things you do for attention are ridiculous Clavis.” The cat nipped Emma’s finger, causing her to pull her hand away. “Oh, excuse me. Do you prefer to be called Catvis while in this form?” Emma’s words were dripping in sarcasm, but the cat purred contently and licked the finger he bit.
Emma recalled the pharmacology book she glanced at earlier. “You were working on a polymorph potion, weren’t you?” Catvis beamed and extended his body so that he was standing on Emma’s lap, his front paws on her shoulders. He rubbed both sides of her cheeks affectionately.
“You really are ridiculous. Ridiculously amazing.” Catvis blinked, not expecting to hear that. “A polymorph potion has never been successfully made until now. A mere Chevalier would not—could not—think to do this.” Emma blushed at her words—expressing her honest feelings was easier with him in this form.
Catvis nuzzled against Emma’s face. He craved this attention, this affirmation. Needed it. Emma’s heart trembled at the realization. She held him in that standing pose in her lap for a while, letting her guard down. After a while, her eyes drifted to the bottle of blue liquid Clavis mentioned yesterday on a table. “We have to change you back eventually, you know. What ingredient is missing from your antidote?”
Catvis jumped back on the desk, finding a pen and fitting it into his mouth. With his head at an incredibly awkward angle, he wrote out two words on a piece of paper: Black rawhide.
“Wow, I can READ this!” Apparently, Clavis’ eighth wonder was legible handwriting without opposable thumbs. “There’s no rawhide here, so we’ll have to look for it. Come here, let me carry you as we search for some.”
Catvis went back to Emma’s lap, his head pushing the necklace into her hand. “I am NOT wearing a cat collar.” Catvis pouted. Emma felt a pang of guilt at his expression. “Well, maybe just this ONCE.”
A few moments later, Emma came out of the bedroom, with Catvis perched on her shoulders. As Emma walked down the palace stairs, she spied a familiar plume of fiery red hair.
“My Lady!” Cyran ran to Emma. “What news of our missing charge?”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“Try me. Nothing about him surprises me anyone.”
“You MAY want to reconsider that statement.” Emma turned her shoulder and gestured to Catvis.
“I didn’t know you owned a cat.” Cyran sniffed loudly.
“WE own a cat. A very naughty one at that.” Emma smirked and bopped Catvis on his nose.
AAAAAAA-CHO!
“I’m highly allergic to cats. Especially naughty ones.” Cyran’s eyes watered. “So, no, I do NOT own a cat.”
Emma gestured to the “Catvis” button on her feline companion. “Actually, we do. Clavis created a polymorph potion and here are the results of THAT.” Catvis grinned broadly—it was a grin Cyran knew all too well.
Catvis’ ears twitched at a sound down a nearby hallway. He jumped off of Emma’s shoulders and sprinted away.
“Catvis, wait!” Emma began running after him, but Cyran erupted into a violent coughing fit, one so strong it made his cheeks blaze as red as his hair. A maid was tasked with fetching him a glass of water as Emma slapped his back.
“I-I’m fine!” Cyran collected his breath. “Were you serious when you said that cat was—“ A shriek from the maid carrying Cyran’s water interrupted the conversation. A furry purple and grey blur darted past her. Catvis ran up the stairs, carrying a black rawhide whip in his mouth. The whip crackled in the air as Catvis flew past Emma and Cyran. Sariel came bounding from the hallway, violet eyes narrowed with rage. “It is enough to have one Hellcat among us. I did not think we had a second living in the palace.”
Emma looked apologetically at Cyran, her hand pointing at Sariel. “Cyran, can you handle this?”
“I…do not get paid enough for these shenanigans, My Lady.” AAAAAAA-CHO!
“At least you get paid.”
…
With a piece of Sariel’s whip, the antidote was now complete and consumed by Catvis (he lapped the potion from Emma’s #1 worst cup). The antidote would take a few hours to be effective, so Emma laid down on Clavis’ couch, a blanket covering her legs and Catvis perched in his proper spot—between Emma’s thighs.
Emma couldn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done so, for she woke up to the pre-dawn hours to a heavier weight on her body and something touching her face. Emma’s eyes slowly opened as she felt an arm—a human arm!—encircle her waist, and roaming hands caressing over her clothes.
“Ah, you’re awake my lovely lover. How wonderful.” Alluring golden eyes shone brightly in the darkened room as Clavis’ lips traced a trail down Emma’s neck.
“Hmmm,” Emma’s fingers carded through Clavis’ hair.
“Are you so delighted you’re at a loss for words? Cat got your tongue?” There was a purr to his voice as Clavis leaned forward and presented a cheek to be kissed.
A cheek was not enough. Emma pulled Clavis down for a kiss, her lips capturing his. “You’re an absolute cat-astrophe, darling.” As she pulled away, Emma’s quiet laughter tickled Clavis’ ear.
“But you’re my cat-astrophe. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
#clavis lelouch#ikemen prince clavis#ikemen prince#ikemen prince chevalier#ikemen prince sariel#cyran rose#otome fanfic#ikepri#ikepri fanfic#fanfic fluff
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crimson Roses
Cyran x Reader
Angst/Hurt/Comfort
~1.5k words
Prompts: determination, love, loyalty
My entry for Wish Upon an Aide Creation Challenge & the collaboration with none other than @wordycheeseblob ! Saki prepared the artwork -- the story is inspired by it.
To view the full artwork, visit @wordycheeseblob !
The clacking of high heels called order in the halls. The maid leaped off the sill and onto the floor, hands smoothing out any real and imaginary creases present over her uniform. Mildly embarrassed, she lowered her head.
“Do you know where Cyran is?” Emma asked.
“The word has it that Sir Rose has not returned.”
“Did you hear? Prince Clavis returned tonight, just before the dawn,” a maid chirped, vigorously polishing one of the tall windows lining the hallways in the residential wing of the palace. Not quite ladylike, she stuck out her tongue and stood on her very tiptoes, the cloth in her hand coming just short of reaching the upper end of the frame. She put her knee up on the windowsill.
“Truly? No, no, I wasn’t aware, no. And…?” her companion mused. “This is rather disgraceful, dear.”
“It is not like anybody is going to see.” The girl pushed herself further up, to eventually stand rather steadily, one pristine hand pressed against the wall for stability. A single stray strand sneaked out of her updo and fell over her forehead, perhaps challenging her to blow it back into place. “Besides, that’s not important.”
“That is youngster’s naivete,” the other sighed. “Well, what was it that you heard then?”
Hooks were undone and knobs were turned. The white apron billowed on the wind as a handful of rowdy gusts rushed inside, more than ready to rummage through the princely chambers and other kingly dwellings. “So you are curious!” She winked. “Apparently he was beaten all black and blue, so he won’t make any appearances for a while… And the word has it that his first knight, Sir Rose —”
The clacking of high heels called order in the halls. The maid leaped off the sill and onto the floor, hands smoothing out any real and imaginary creases present over her uniform. Mildly embarrassed, she lowered her head.
“Do you know where Cyran is?” Emma asked.
“The word has it that Sir Rose has not returned.”
***
Sir Rose has not returned, Emma was told by what felt like a hundred of mouths.
He hasn’t made it home.
He had to stay back.
They were supposed to meet up at an inn, but…
… but there was nothing following that “but”. Angered or desperate, or perhaps both, so thoroughly dissolved in each other that they ceased being either, she stood before Clavis’ room. The oaken door stared her down, old dark knots furrowing their grain-brow. A guest uninvited, Emma turned and pressed and pulled and pushed at the brass knob – and although it replied each time, be it with a bzzzt or a whoop or a snap, the door did not budge.
“Prince Clavis?” She knocked. Emma took a step back, anticipating some sort of explosion, or a contraption, concoction, trap… Something, anything, to befall her.
Nothing had.
“Prince Clavis?!”
Nothing.
“Clavis, goddammit!”
Not a thing, regardless of how hard her fist struck. Thinking it was just a cruel joke, a tactless prank, Emma let her feelings pound away at the wood, impact shaking her down to her very bone marrow. Hinges rattle-cackled, laughing only louder the longer she fought. As futile as it was, Emma did not lack in persistence. No, far from it – her will was a rock, only solidified by the gossip still churning in her mind.
It was only when the afternoon sun tinted the corridors in vibrant vermillion, so very familiar, that Emma regained some of her reason. She hid her bruised hand in her skirt, head hanging low.
“Clavis?” she called one last time, her voice rasp. To no answer, of course. Defeated and deflated, Emma turned away from the door, dreading being swallowed and digested by the ever-present silence.
***
Follow me —
Emma burst out of her room, carried forth and entrapped by the winds still lingering in the halls, little different from a gale herself. A force petrified with uncertainty, she clutched the letter to her chest. Her body did not hurt; it was the motion that found her, pulled her through the gaps between the hastily jotted down lines, made unstoppable by the sliver of hope setting her thoughts ablaze. She didn’t want to oppose it. Not when the singed paper fit in her palm so warmly, so crumbled and mistreated it could easily fall to dust. The previously dreadful corridors, overly long staircases, the dewy gravel and the shivering afternoon – it sped by her. Emma simply ran.
Follow me where red roses bloom under the cold skies.
The message was unnecessary; it had branded her mind the moment she’d first read it. A fresh burn, it sizzled and it howled, each of its whines revealing a fragment of the path. Like through a haze, Emma ran, faster than her legs could carry her. She skipped over the road leading to the town in a flash, the wicked buildings and their convoluted streets sprouting seemingly straight from the depths of the ground to entrap her. Not a single familiar path remained in place, trade signs playing the game of tag and rearranging themselves. The capital drowned in a mist conjured by the voice of a siren-heart, the cafes, restaurants, stores, all somehow bearing the familiar flickers of red hair, phantom figures moving behind the glass displays, playing out stories of days long lived through. Echoes of laughter coiled around her legs, the sweetest doubts weighing down her heart.
Emma ran.
Follow me where red roses bloom under the cold skies. I will —
He would.
So she had to meet him there.
Emma tore away old nostalgia strings. She averted her eyes from the coffee shops, forgot about the happy pair that once sat by the door and drank tea as golden as her eyes. She let go of the memory of the dark cherries, of her love’s delight, of the feeling of his hand over hers, of his lips and their timid caress. Cast away, they shattered under the heels of her shoes, the shards being swept under the hem of her skirt. She could collect them later, put them back together, smelt them anew if time allowed…
… if there was still time.
Emma ran.
Follow me where red roses bloom under the cold skies. I will meet you there after midnight strikes.
The town ceased, plains opening to greet her to then turn into hills. Completely in their domain, winds broke off the leash, trickster gusts pushing at her back while gales took her hands and pulled her onwards. Through the sea of swaying grass, past thorny blackberries, prickly thistles with their purple crowns and grooves and rivulets and other scrubs – Emma ran, out of breath despite having become the air personified. Stumbling as she did, she reached the clearing. Their clearing, although then it was already occupied, an all too familiar sword protruding from the ground. Scarlet blade stared at her, basked in the last of bloody sunlight.
Follow me where red roses bloom under the cold skies. I will meet you there after midnight strikes. I promise.
Red roses reeked of sweet decay as Emma took a shaky step. Abandoned by the strength of elements, she could all but crumble on the spot – yet even in that, she chose to crumble onwards, dragging her pained feet until she faced the dearly beloved sword properly. She set her hands on the hilt and sat on the ground. Accompanied only by the hooting of the owls, Emma closed her eyes, waves of desperation that led her thus far easing into a state of calm.
He promised, she repeated to herself. He promised, so he will come.
***
Brilliant sunlight had begun to flicker over the horizon line by the time Cyran made it back to the hill. Beaten and battered, still encased in the constraint of his military garb, he dragged himself through the winding path hidden among scrubs. A broken branch there, an odd clearing here – he did not notice anything. Not until he saw the carmine hue of Emma’s skirt, a rough scrap hanging off the raspberry branch, hardly different from the ripe fruit surrounding it.
Cyran run.
Metallic thudding banished exhaustion from his limbs, thunderbolts lending him their speed. The world ceased in a blur, light tore its way into the diminishing dark – and it was only after he entered the clearing that he was robbed of his might. Cyran forced his body to oblige to his demands, the woman he longed to see sleeping while sitting upright, hands propped on the hilt of his sword.
“Emma?” he whispered, not believing his eyes. She must have been soundly locked in her dreams, however, for she did not reply. As if cocooned in the fabric of the night, Emma swayed lightly, perfectly in sync with the crimson roses blooming around. Petals fluttered, few discarded ones lifting off the ground, huddling towards her to settle in her hair. Still just as surprised, Cyran sat down behind Emma, pulled her frame into his arms. She was a feather when she fell against his chest, so very light he feared his hands may be too rough to handle her. Nevertheless, he found his courage again and swept her hair aside, his fingers brushing against her cheek in reverence as he unveiled her visage. His touch descending to her neck, his arm reached to free her from her duty at the hilt —
“Cyran?”
He kissed her nape. “I’m back.”
His forehead pressed against her shoulder, Cyran prayed to always find her safely there, enchanted where the crimson roses bloomed under the clear skies.
--
Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti @claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260 @starlitmanor-network
Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)
#wishuponanaidecc#cyran rose#ikepri cyran#ikemen prince cyran#ikepri#ikemen prince#ikemen series#starlitmanornetwork
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ikeprinces and Their Voicemail
Some of these are a bit suggestive so MDNI please!
Jin: Hello, hello, Jin Grandet here; grande in more ways than one. I know what you're thinking. Is this an x-rated hotline? I assure you that is definitely not the case... unless you're a fine-bosomed lady, that is. Single and ready to mingle? Stay on the line, sugar-tits *beep*
Chevalier: *voicemail goes straight to the beep*
Clavis: Hello? *proceeds to have a fake conversation with the caller as if he's actually there* That'll get the flour out of your hair asap. Oh, that's fascinating. I'm so sorry to hear that. Nice legs, you say? *beep*
Leon: Hey there, you've reached Leon. Sorry we missed each other. But it'd be boring if we connected without a little interference, yeah? Kidding, kidding! Just leave a name and number and I'll get back to you with the funniest joke you've ever heard―guaranteed *beep*
Yves: You have reached the Fifth Prince of Rhodolite, Yves Juniper Oswald Kloss. I'm sorry I can't be here to take your call right now, so please leave your name and number after the tone. Unless you're Clavis. Then please hang up and toss your phone into the nearest river―*sound of phone accidentally falling into the toilet*―Are you serious... I wasn't even in the bathroom :(
Licht: This is Licht. I'm not available right now. Leave a message. Give me back my phone, Nokto *beep*
Nokto: Mmmmnnn hello. I had every intention of answering your call, but I'm a busy man with places to be, deals to sign, lips to... You know what I mean... If there's anything I can do for you, do leave a name, number, and a brief description of yourself so I can pick out the perfect pair of―Licht, come on, I wasn't done with―*beep*
Luke: *sound of snoring for 30 seconds cut off by a beep at the end*
Sariel: This is Sariel. My apologies for being unable to receive your call. Please leave a name, number, and 10-word description of what you are calling about. I must stress that it has to be 10 words or you risk my losing interest. Just kidding. Or am I *beep*
Rio: Hello! Rio here! Woof! I don't... actually know why I did that into the phone... Oh well. Let me know what I can do for you and I'll see if Silvio is available to foot the bill. Spoiler: he is. I love Emma today and everyday! *beep*
Keith: I'm so sorry I couldn't be here to take your call! Please let me make it up to you! I know I'm nothing special but if there's anything you need help with―pulling weeds, maybe? Or doing your taxes? Or being your alibi for a future murder... No―NO! Murder is wrong! Please don't murder any―*beep*
Silvio: I ain't here. Leave a message after the fuckin *beep*
Gilbert: Hello. You've reached Gil. I'm sorry I can't take your call right now, because I'm sure you wouldn't be calling just to waste my time. You're smarter than that, right? Hehehe, that's what I thought. Anyway, let me just wash this blood from my hands and I'll get back to you *smiles through the phone*
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri jin#ikepri chevalier#ikepri clavis#ikepri leon#ikepri yves#ikepri licht#ikepri nokto#ikepri luke#ikepri sariel#ikepri rio#ikepri silvio#ikepri keith#ikepri gilbert#ikepri headcanons#jin grandet#chevalier michel#clavis lelouch#leon dompteur#yves kloss#licht klein#nokto klein#luke randolph#sariel noir#rio ortiz#silvio ricci#keith howell#gilbert von obsidian
195 notes
·
View notes
Note
|ω･)ﾉ👉👈 could i get some fluffy comfort pwetty pweaseeee(´,,•ω•,,)♡
mm, mc/emma is just… having a bad few weeks and it all piled on top of her and beat her down a lil, she's lost all confidence in herself, in her ability, and her looks ._. she lost her sparkle and her bounce so… silvio being silvio and trying to give her her sparkle baaack ;u;
either pov is good!! ;uuuu;
(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ
(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ Hugs back at you!! I hope you enjoy it!
Silvio Ricci x Reader
Hurt/Comfort + Fluff
WC: 1.1k
It seemed that everything you’d been doing recently was destined to be a disappointment. The paperwork you’d done: riddled with mistakes. The event that you were planning: A complete mess after three different vendors cancelled. Even your cooking seemed to be nothing more than a Clavis-esque conglomeration of ingredients.
After so many repeated failures, you could feel your confidence slipping. It had been hard coming to Benitoite; the culture was so drastically different from Rhodolite, and to say you had been feeling out of place would be an understatement. You’d managed to get through the first couple of months easily enough since Rio and Silvio had rarely left your side, but life goes on and responsibilities piled onto both of them relentlessly, leaving little room to cater to you any longer.
You’d hardly seen either of them this past week: Silvio out on a voyage and Rio up to his ears in fixing a collection of trade agreements. You know it doesn’t help to feel sorry for yourself, but you couldn’t seem to stem the rushing tide of negative, self-deprecating thoughts that flooded your brain.
Even now, as you sit staring out over the sea from the balcony you couldn’t seem to shake the dark cloud hanging over you to truly enjoy the beautiful colors of the sunset. You let your head drop into your hands, heaving a heavy sigh.
You hear the sound of the door bursting open, followed by the obvious jangling of your fiancé as he strides into the room. At first you feel a brief rush of excitement that is devoured by the shame you’d been burying yourself with all day.
“Okay, what the hell happened?” Silvio barks, flopping onto the sofa beside you.
You curl in further to yourself, trying to become smaller, but of course Silvio isn’t going to accept that. He pulls you into his lap, turning you to face him.
“Ya gonna tell me why you didn’t run up to greet me like an excited puppy? Something obviously musta happened or you’d be bouncing all over the place and yappin’ my ear off.” He grumbles, pulling your hands away from your face.
When he sees your forlorn, defeated expression, his gaze softens.
“That’s the last time I leave you under the watch of that damned dog.” The statement is meant to be inaudible, but he can’t hide the growl in his throat.
“Come on, tell me what’s goin’ on,” he whispers, tilting your chin to force you to look at him. Staring into his sea-blue irises sends warmth through your body, but you still feel like opening your mouth would only make him more upset.
“…it’s nothing.” You whisper, leaning into his shoulder and taking in his familiar spicy scent.
“Bullshit.”
He shuffles around, pushing you back so that you can’t hide from his piercing gaze.
“Talk to me.” The deep frown on his face pulls at your heart and you finally let out a sigh.
“It’s just been a rough week, is all,” you admit, forcing an unconvincing smile. You lean in to give him a kiss and he puts a hand on your forehead, pushing you back again.
“That ain’t gonna cut it, you’ve had rough weeks before and they don’t have ya lookin’ like that,” he scoffed. His eyebrows quirk up in question and you feel your heart sink.
You swallow, feeling the emotions you’d been bottling up for the past few weeks bubbling to the surface. The gentle kiss to your forehead causes the dam to burst.
“I… I can’t seem to do anything right…” You feel your voice catch, “Everything I’ve done for so long just falls apart and I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with me? Why can’t do anything myself without completely messing it up.” You feel your eyes stinging with tears at the admission. A shaky breath escapes your lips and suddenly you’re falling backward.
As your back hits the couch, you see Silvio leaning over you. He threads his fingers through yours and squeezes tightly.
“You ain’t supposed to be thinkin’ like that dammit. How do you not see how amazing you are?” He says, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, so gentle and full of love, your chest aches.
“One of the things I love most about you is how you try so fuckin’ hard all the time and put your all into everything you do. I get that since stuff’s been fallin’ apart, it probably does hurt more for you. You take everything so seriously. But you don’t need to blame yourself. You came into royalty outta nowhere. No ordinary woman would be able to handle the ridiculous work load without cracking. No other person I can think of would be able to do what you’ve done.”
Letting out a long sigh, Silvio reaches up and strokes your cheek with his thumb, staring deeply into your eyes.
“What I’m tryin’ to say is… if you’re feeling like nothing’s going right…remember that you’re my favorite person in the whole world and I can’t have you thinking bad stuff about her, okay?”
The earnest passion in his voice twists your heart and you’re unable to hold back the tears.
“Aahhh shit! That wasn’t supposed to make you cry!” He mutters, sitting back on his knees, running his hand through his hair. He hops up, beginning to pace anxiously.
It takes you a moment to regain your composure, but soon you’re standing and just as he turns back to face you, you throw yourself into Silvio’s arms.
“What the—”
You cut his response off with an aggressive kiss. When you finally release his lips, you hold Silvio’s face in your hands and looking him directly in the eye.
“Thank you, Silvio,” you whisper.
“You’re so damn confusing.” He murmurs, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth before he leans down and captures your mouth in another kiss.
You’re not really sure how, but his less than eloquent reassurances are able to soothe your worried mind more than anything else ever could.
The rest of the evening passes with the warmest of snuggles and the sweetest of words shared just between the two of you.
The next morning you wake in his arms, his vibrant gaze rested on your face. The tender love you can see in those deep oceanic pools brings another wave of affection rushing through you and you pull him into a brief kiss.
“You back to being you?” He asks with a chuckle as you part.
You nod, smiling happily at him.
“Good.”
Taglist: @candied-boys @aquagirl1978 @ominousjangling @violettduchess @themiscarnival
If you'd like to be added to the tag list just send me a message :)
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like the sea - Silvio x MC (Ikemen Prince)
Title: Like the sea
Pairing: Silvio x MC (named Emma in this)
Tags: Fluff, drama, angst. No smut. Suitable for minors.
Summary: The first time Silvio is away for a longer time after they settled in Benitoite. Silvio's POV.
Let me know if you want more Silvio, Clavis, Chevalier or Gilbert fics.
It had been far too long since Silvio had seen Emma. He had been away from the palace for three weeks while Emma stayed behind. Life aboard the ship kept him largely busy, but the upcoming storm had worried him. He knew Emma was idiotic enough to spend the entire day frantic over him once she would learn about the bad weather approaching the ship. Spending the day with the ship rocking back and forth on the waves and getting soaked from the rain wasn't anything unusual for Silvio, but this was the first time he had ever been away from home for so long with someone actually missing him while waiting for his return. The feeling often left him speechless. Never before had he wished to reach his homeland as quickly as he found himself wanting to now.
The storm arrived with slight change in the air at first. Everything was eerily quiet, quite fitting for the phrase ''calm before the storm''. Silvio had never hoped for easy sailing or the winds to be kind as such things rarely came to pass on these waters. The skies were turning grey ever so slowly and the sails fluttered with the gusts of air trembling around the creaking structures of their land on sea. It didn't take long for the rain to start pouring down and the entire crew was sliding on the slippery deck within minutes. Silvio felt his muscles working far over their normal capacity and his senses were entirely maxed out as he rode the beast that was the anger of the turbulent seas.
Before Emma, sea had been his only love and mistress worth mentioning. As the blue haired man clung to the wooden railings, splinters digging into his hands, he considered the possibility that sea was the reason he had fallen for Emma in the first place. The sea was free and fiery despite it's element, and such was Emma. Hard to predict and sometimes whimsical, the waters did as they wanted. Silvio's gaze had been drawn to Emma from the start as if he was gazing at the coast after a month long journey. It invited the eye to see, rather than just look. And he had really seen her. If he were to die because of unnatural causes, Silvio had always imagined the sea eventually taking him. The cradle of water, eternal grave in the ocean, would have been a fitting end for a sailor like himself. But now he hoped that if such misfortune were to appear in his future, he could die to protect his lover. He would gladly bare his heart for Emma, to let her be the ward of his body and soul.
When the ship finally reached the shore, the whole crew safe but spent, Silvio could hardly drag his feet to the carriage. First light of dawn had pierced the sky, but the golden light of lanterns still glimmered around him. Silvio could hardly wait for the comforting blanket that was Emma's love. Nothing would ever feel more like returning home than her tiny body wrapping around him as she welcomed him back to the safety net of her warmth. What a sensation of heart it was to be returning to something so sweet.
The door let out a slight grinding noise when Silvio entered the bedroom he shared with Emma. It was no surprise to him to see her awake on the bed, absent-mindedly reading a novel. Her soft gaze moved to inspect her lover's face immediately. Couple of frustrated tears formed in the corners of her eyes and the morning light made them sparkle. Silvio flashed her a cocky grin, as if to say ''see, I told you I would be home safe''. In a couple of long steps, he was right beside her. Still not quite used to being held, Silvio let out an alarmed yelp when Emma drew his face to her chest and wrapped her arms around his cold shoulders. There are different types of hugs. Some are gentle with plenty of room to breathe and some are strong ones that are meant to show how much you'll never want to part. This one was of the latter quality. Silvio felt Emma around him as if she was trying to melt the very core of her soul into him, to be one with him forever.
''I hate you,'' she whispered, but pressed a firm kiss in his hair. Red blush the shade of roses and pink champagne stained Silvio's ears and face, slowly warming his neck as well. Gently he pried himself free from her hold and answered, ''I ain't buyin' that.''
One cocky smile after he pressed a passionate kiss on her lips as he cradled her tear stained cheeks. The faintest colour of rose never left his features.
#otome#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikemen prince silvio#silvio ricci#ikemen silvio#fanfic#ikemen fanfic#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikepri#ikepri fanfic
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Queen's Diary: A Chevalier oneshot
Chevalier x MC (Emma) Ikemen Prince oneshot
Rated M: 4,000 words
Summary: Emma finds the late Queen's diary, discovering the truth of Chevalier's isolated childhood.
Warnings: Smut, and mentionings of Clavis' mother's sexual assault
----
She hadn't anticipated anything out of the ordinary occurring that day. After silently slipping out of the King's Chambers just as she always did in the morning, Emma was more than happy to help the maids clean. It was unexpected to be given the task of cleaning the former Queen’s quarters, but not unthinkable. Emma simply hadn't entered Chevalier's mother's space before.
It was a lonely, faintly feminine-looking place. Emma was slightly dismayed not to see one single hint of a smaller Chevalier's memorabilia, let alone any personal effects.
Nonetheless, tidy shelves were soon dusted just like every other room, linens replaced despite no one using them, windows wiped spotless.
Yet that sense of easy familiarity changed with one single bump of her hand against the bookshelf.
'Thud.'
Emma paused, frowning slightly. None of the neatly shelved books had fallen from what she could see.
So was something hidden at the back of the shelves?
“I’m going to continue with the next room, miss,” Jane gestured to the door, having not noticed.
“Oh- no problem. I’ll join you soon, I’m just going to make some final checks,” shooting a smile at the maid, Emma waited until she was left alone.
Squatting down, she reached to the back of the shelves and began the process of fishing out the thing. After piling some stacked books and discovering a gap at the back, Emma pulled out a single dog-eared book.
A diary.
Cracking it open without another thought, she glanced over the first page.
‘I have long since been told that keeping a journal or diary of some sort will aid one’s thoughts. In truth, I do not write here seeking counsel. Rather, for the first time in my life, I find myself unable to confide some particular thoughts about being a mother to my best, and most wondrous friend, Leticia. I fear the truth of my feelings would only alarm her. Alarm everyone. Therefore I am to contain my doubts and uncertainties in these pages. I endeavour not to let them overspill where one might see them.’
Thoughts about being a mother?
This was…the Queen’s diary- but more than that, it was her feelings toward Chevalier? She’d died when he was a child, so he must have been young when she wrote this, Emma thought.
She hesitated, gazing at the tell-tale curve of her fingers that held the first page aloft- poised to turn it. If she kept going now, Emma knew a breach of privacy would be broken that she could never take back. The most appropriate thing to do would be to give the diary to Chevalier to decide what to do with it. It was his mother’s, after all.
Blunt teeth tugged and scraped at her abused lower lip- a casualty of his Royal Highnesses forceful kisses. Images of her beloved shrunk down into a small little boy with pale blonde hair and pinchable cheeks flashed in her mind’s eye. The page was turned before she realised it, and more of that elegant script met Emma’s greedy, curious gaze.
‘It may seem ridiculous to say but from the day he was born, I knew my child was not normal. He did not cry like other children. In fact, my midwife feared he was stillborn at first. He was so quiet, and barely made any noise. He did not smile often but rather stared at objects within the room or at my face with a frightening intensity not befitting a baby. I imagine most mothers would be pleased to have such a silent babe. Instead, I felt as if Chevalier told me something from the moment he was born: ‘I have no need of you.’
Emma quirked a brow, smiling a little despite herself. That sounded like a very Chevalier thing to do, and the image of him looking so proud even while being swaddled was adorable to her. However, the Queen's tone concerned her- pulled at her heartstrings uncomfortably with troubling thoughts she did not want to confront. She read on.
‘My husband, sadly, took no better to my son than I did. It was difficult to love a child that rarely smiled or seemed to find joy in our company. Nonetheless, his rejection stung. I had hoped a child- a son no less!- would grant him some measure of happiness. Unfortunately, the King’s smiles are rarer than even Chevaliers. Perhaps rejection is all that the three of us will ever really understand.’
Emma’s heart flickered as she picked up on the following words: ‘The King- Leticia- hurt- so much blood- my poor friend was crying so much-’ and even all the curiosity in the world couldn't bring her to read that particular passage. Nausea pooled in her stomach when it was noted in the pages that nine months later, Luticia gave birth to a boy named Clavis.
With severely less enthusiasm than before, she skipped along to toddling Chevalier.
‘I recall Chevalier pointing at me once while we were sitting in the nursery. “Book,” he’d said- and I realised belatedly that he wasn’t looking at me, but at the bookshelf behind me. That was his very first word. Not ‘Mother’ or ‘Father’ but ‘Book.’
‘This word paved the way for Chevalier's rare redeeming quality as a son: his intellect. Never before have I witnessed a child who learned as quickly as he did. After picking up reading and writing at a young age- his tutors declaring him a child prodigy- I recall noticing him playing with some toys. ‘Finally!’ I thought. ‘He is acting normal at last, rather than sitting alone in the corner of the room with a book.’
'When I approached, however, I noticed the toys in his hand were actually battle markers he’d snatched from the King’s war room. The scene laid out before him on the playmat was that of a hypothetical battlefield.’
'After this, while I felt dismayed once more, an inkling of hope entered my heart. If my son could be a useful tactician, it would benefit the King, and perhaps allow him to be of use to the kingdom. I implored my husband to allow Chevalier to begin sitting in on his war meetings so that he might recognise his aptitude for it. It took some time, but eventually, he conceded despite the strangeness of allowing a five-year-old into the chamber.’
Emma read on, standing from the floor when her legs began to cramp and sitting at a nearby writing desk. She wasn’t surprised in the least about Chevalier's aptitude for war. Apparently, the move was a success, as the prince flourished at these meetings, suggesting battle tactics that impressed even the most seasoned of generals.
As she skim-read through a few of these entries, a single passage finally made her stop.
‘Leticia tells me I will warm to him eventually. Once, I would have hoped for that.’
“What do you mean?” Emma questioned aloud softly, hunching over the desk a little more.
‘After seeing the pure love and affection between Leticia and her sweet little Clavis, I know in my heart I will never come to love Chevalier. He will never love me, either, much like his father. I see Clavis following my son around sometimes and the difference between them is like night and day. Clavis is a human boy, while the person that came from me feels more and more like a changeling child every day. A mistake. A cold, unfeeling reminder of the lack of love in this palace. We do not speak even at meal times, and when he looks at me, Chevalier acts like I am a stranger. I have slowly become irritated by it, and snap occasionally. He reminds me too much of the King’s apathetic silence in our bed chamber.'
“Why can’t you just smile?” I spoke out this evening, glaring down our dining table at him. Chevalier, sat at the opposite end, merely looked at me in that lofty way of his. “I have nothing to smile about right now, so why would I?”
The knot in Emma’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter. Chevalier could smile. It was gentle and just a little awkward and uncertain sometimes, but it was unmistakably human. Emma knew this because she’d fallen in love with his smiles. The fact that his own mother hadn’t seen them made her throat close up, heart laying heavily in her chest. She’d glimpsed it a few times, but according to the diary, the Queen also never woke him in the mornings. They’d meet in the afternoon for a scheduled dinner.
That meant she’d never seen Chevalier struggle to wake up in bed- his hair adorably ruffled with sleep, eyelids heavy as he burrowed stubbornly under the covers. The Queen had never witnessed his palpable, silent delight as he’d unwrapped a handmade gift made just for him. He slept with the flimsy blanket Emma had knitted for him every night despite being surrounded by finery.
All these little things were precious and dear to Emma. She felt torn in numerous ways about how to put into words what exactly she was feeling as her finger trembled. Sadness, of course, disappointment? Frustration? Yes…some of that was mixed in.
She could understand the complexities of being a newfound mother with a child that differed from expectations, but it seemed at a certain point…the Queen had stopped trying.
No, if she were really being honest, the truth of it was right there in the pages before her. Chevalier had been rejected from the moment he was born.
‘One night, a man entered through the window of my private drawing room. I was frightened and completely alone in facing him. I only discovered later on that he’d intended to assassinate my husband, mistakenly believing we shared our quarters- what a fool!’
‘He came at me with a dagger- and I tried my best to escape, tossing my dresser and various things over behind me in my haste to flee. I thought for certain he was close enough to catch me, but upon reaching my room I found myself completely alone. Naturally, I made my way cautiously back to the hallway- only to see a sword thrust through the man’s back. He bent as if his bones were broken, a terrible, gasping sound escaping him that I will hear forever. Behind him, I recall seeing a small figure. My attacker’s killer tugged- and planted one foot on the assassin's back- to rip his sword free. It was then I saw it.’
‘Chevalier was smiling.’
‘I cannot…write down the depths of my terror in witnessing it. My unease changed that night into true horror, and I have feared my son ever since. No, to even call him of my blood feels deranged. That boy could not have come from me. He is a beast. A thing swapped at birth with my true son- for no human could smile like that after killing a man. Yes, it is clear now. How could I have hoped to appeal to my husband with such a child? It is not my fault. It has never been my fault. It is that boy’s fault.’
“You’ll never be loved by anyone,” I told him this, just this morning. He had the gall to ask ‘why?’
“Because you’re a beast without a human heart,” I told him, speaking the truth. “You’re different from the other children. You don’t know what love is, and that’s terrifying.”
The boy seemed confused by this. “All I did was kill an assassin,” he said, as if a seven-year-old doing so unflinchingly was perfectly normal.
I felt myself snap once more. “It is unnatural to be so calm about it!” I’d yelled, secretly wishing he might show remorse about it if I scolded him. He did not. At that moment, the last of my strength as a mother left me. It felt as if I were renouncing him as my son. “Neither the king nor I can find it in ourselves to love you any longer.”
'If we ever had.'
“As long as you don’t know what love is, you’ll remain a beast forever.”
Brown eyes widened, staring at those words as if they were a curse in a fairy tale. But this was no story she could ever comfort herself with. This was real. It had happened.
‘I confided in Leticia about what I’d witnessed that night, and it did not take long before everyone in the palace knew about Chevalier's true nature. I would feel guilt for how the servants and nobles alike ostracised him for it- but I know he is a danger to them. I keep to my rooms now, with Leticia my only visitor. I have not seen His Highness or that boy in months. I feel myself falling prey to fear and torment every day. Whatever solace I thought I’d find in the arms of the King for rejecting that boy was mistaken.
‘I know not for how much longer I can bear this place when it is home to mere heartless, dreadful beasts. How I wish I had not been forced to come here. How I wish I had not borne that man a cursed son.’
Emma turned the page, only to find it blank. Flipping through the rest, a stream of yellowed-white faceless pages fluttered slowly closed, with all the pain and misery leading up to the Queen’s death left unspoken and unwritten.
She sat back in her chair. Staring ahead sightlessly for a few moments, Emma found herself uncharacteristically speechless. Robbed of all thought- she gazed at the pages until they blurred. Blinking, she quickly wiped a few hot tears away, frowning at the sting.
Taking a few deep breaths, she collected herself slowly. How silly. It wasn’t like crying would fix anything she’d read.
Her lips bent up into a painful smile, imagining Chevalier gently ridiculing her for it. ‘Stupid rabbit,’ he’d call her, and flick her forehead-
Her misty eyes widened slightly, falling to the diary again.
Chevalier…
He shouldn’t ever read this. Couldn’t-
Emma knew it likely wouldn’t hurt him, as it was things he already doubtlessly knew or suspected, but she didn't think she could stomach seeing the revelation on his face.
The door swung open suddenly- and Emma shot up, snatching the book and shoving it behind her to hide it.
“Oh, you’re still here, miss?” Anna blinked, venturing further into the room. “The cleaning in here is surely done. Jane didn’t leave you to it alone, did she?”
Emma shook her head and forced a brittle smile. It wouldn’t have convinced Chevalier if he’d seen it. He was unexpectedly sweet like that.
Swallowing thickly, she inched toward the door. “No, not at all. I guess I just got lost in thought. So much so, I didn’t realise what the time was! Forgive me, I’m late for something, Anna-”
Hoping she didn’t notice the tremble in her voice, Emma dashed by the maid and hurried down the corridor. She fled past Jin- who called out to her- and weaved around countless servants in a most unladylike fashion.
She didn’t care though. The heavy, sick feeling in her chest didn’t lessen until orange flames were swallowing the contents of those pages.
Emma exhaled slowly, using a fire poker to adjust the diary atop the logs. She watched with blank relief as it was eaten away into nothingness, becoming grey flecks of meaningless discarded ashes.
The words, of course, would likely never leave her.
Standing within the library, Emma straightened. She fixed her long hair, blinking firmly- rapidly, to expel the last of the tears. She then slapped her cheeks lightly and checked the time.
The grandfather clock’s second hand slid closer to ‘noon.’
“He’s probably still in bed,” she rasped, smiling slightly.
It was likely a bad idea to see him when she was in such a state, as Chevalier could always sniff out weakness, but her steps didn't falter.
A burning desire encompassed her body, and would not be doused with any form of logic. She needed to see his face. She needed to-
Emma wasn’t certain what else she needed. She only found the answer to that unknown craving the second she’d slipped into the king’s chambers and crawled onto the plush white bed, immediately locating the face of her sleeping beloved.
She needed to love him. To show love- and know he felt it- know that he was loved so very deeply by someone.
Her lips found his cheek, pressing a long, reverent kiss to cool skin. Those thick, pale lashes of his refused to stir. So weak a kiss would not tempt the lazing tiger into waking.
Emma tucked herself up behind him, kissing along his ear next. Her breath fanned over the shell deliberately, peppering butterfly kisses down to his nape. That got a reaction. She felt him stiffen, shivering just a little.
Someone’s a big faker.
She smiled, nuzzling into his soft blonde hair and pressing full breasts into his back, trailing her hand over his side and running it up to where his nightshirt gaped open. He smelled like roses, as always.
Did the Queen know he smelled like this?
She winced, squeezing her eyes shut and sighing. The beast stirred, raising an arm sleepily and rolling onto his back- a silent invitation. Emma took it, quickly cuddling into his chest and lavishing attention over his collarbone.
“Mnph?” the king made a noise. Blue eyes cracked open, his hand weaving into her hair as he languidly stretched beneath her. “...You’re more determined than usual…to wake me today…” he yawned, grabbing the cover and attempting to pull it over their heads. Emma forced it back down, stroking his abdomen and running lithe fingers lower- feeling his body twitch in response, the embers of desire coaxing awake.
“It’s almost noon,” she cooed, ducking her head to plant a trail of kisses down his chest. Fingers blocked her journey- sliding past her lips to hook beneath her chin, tilting Emma’s head to look up.
“...Did something happen?” Chevalier grumbled, blue eyes squinting in the afternoon light, obviously making an effort to stay open. He sobered the longer she struggled to answer, gaze sharpening. Fierce attention roved over her face intently.
Emma’s lips pressed together and she looked away, heart shuddering. How could his own mother have been uncomfortable with that stare?
Chevalier sighed, poking her forehead and eliciting a yelp.
“Imbecile. Use your words.”
She grumbled, rubbing the spot. “Nothing…happened, exactly,” she murmured, gaze downcast. “I just- I heard someone talking badly of you, and it upset me.”
She could tell the answer displeased him. “You’re aware that no one’s opinion matters to me. People talk. Their wagging tongues, fear and dislike are nothing new. Why did it upset you today?”
“It felt different. It hurt,” she admitted. “They talked about your past…how your mother viewed you,” Emma sat back so that she straddled his hips. “I’m sorry-”
“The memories of her aren't a source of pain for me, my foolish Rabbit,” his fingers pressed against her mouth, brushing her lips fondly. “I didn't feel anything upon her death and I feel nothing now. Her fear of me isn’t something you should concern yourself with,” he sighed, head hitting his pillow with a ‘thump.’ “But I know saying such things to you is about as effective as trying to convince Clavis to stop trying to unsuccessfully kill me. Some things are impossible to change.”
Emma winced, running her hands absentmindedly over his chest, just to feel the rise and fall- the softness of his skin, body heat…and that strong heart beating beneath her palm. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” she gave a weak giggle. “But you’re right. I’m always going to worry about things you deem ‘unnecessary’ it's just how I am.”
Chevalier peaked at her under the messy fall of his bangs. He huffed with amusement, lips curling up into that awkward, gentle smile she so adored. Emma minded the strands aside, stopping to cup his cheek. She gazed firmly into those pretty blue eyes, seized by a great need.
“I love you,” she said. She’d spoken those words many times before, and would do so many times after. Every day, until it could hopefully drown out those endlessly lonely and isolating years spent alone in the library, with only his books for company.
“You look as though you have something to prove with those words today,” his thumb smoothed over her lips once more to push his thumb slightly into her parted mouth, stroking her tongue. His gaze darkened like an animal spotting its prey. “Show me.”
“Gladly-” she breathed, and their mouths were colliding in an instant. Emma’s fingers curled in the creases of his dishevelled collar, tugging and clawing at his shoulders until he joined her in sitting up- allowing her to discard the shirt. Chevalier soon gathered her closer, growling lowly when she ground against his lap. She wasn’t usually like this. Not unless she’d had something to drink- but a hunger bared its teeth inside her today. Her fiance seemed only too happy to oblige, allowing her to rut desperately against him- latching her mouth onto his neck and biting down.
“Mn-” a hiss of hot air fanned out beside her head, a hardness pressing up between her thighs indicating his enjoyment.
Emma discarded all sense of proprietary and lost herself in the molten hot temptations of pleasure, dipping her hand beneath the waistband of his trousers to take him in her hand.
"Emma," Chevalier gave a low croon, grasping brunnette hair and tugging to rip her mouth free of his throat- shoving his tongue inside her parted lips. Hands stroked, caressed and ripped at clothing. Their bodies rutted together like beasts. Soon she felt her back arching, an instrument in his artful hands as wet heat closed around her bared nipple, sucking with a scrape of delicious teeth.
She whined and shuddered in his hold, sloppily continuing to pump her hand at his base.
In that bedroom, with the golden light of midday pouring through a crack in the curtains, Emma gazed at him, eyes half-lidded and mouth parted. He looked beautiful. From how attentive and passionately he pleasured her, she knew she could never see him as the cold, removed man he’d been when they’d met.
Desire stabbed like a wrought iron brand inside her lower abdomen, and Emma pushed up onto her knees, aligning herself with his hips. With a single heated look exchanged, she took him into her, crying out as his cock filled her to the brim.
“Mn!- hah- you’re so wet…don’t tell me you got aroused just from touching me?” Chevalier’s voice purred into her neck, nipping and kissing.
“Is it any surprise? It makes me feel good to see you happy,” she gave a weak laugh, smiling with rosy cheeks.
Blue eyes flicked up, warming. He gazed at her with such tenderness it threatened to undo her. Emma shook herself and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, their lips meeting just as she began to ride him.
Soon their combined low grunts and pleased sighs filled the room, accompanied by the wet, heinous noises of their bodies meeting.
“Is- this, hah- alright?” she managed, nails digging into his blisteringly warm skin.
Chevalier gave a strained chuckle, holding her tighter around the waist and bumping his lips against her cheek. “Idiotic Rabbit. I’ve told you- before…” he panted, gaze half-lidded. “You have permission to do anything you want to me.”
Her walls unexpectedly squeezed tighter around him, wringing out a hiss from his clenched teeth. Emma blushed and bounced more determinedly on his lap, whimpering softly as his cock hit new depths from the change in angle.
That was how they fell apart- shattering in each other's arms. Emma keened and voiced her pleasure until her throat strained, deaf to Chevalier's own low snarl as his hips bucked and snapped- filling her with his seed.
Heavy panting was all she could hear as the high of climax eventually dimmed. She became aware of their sweat-slicked bodies pressed close- heartbeats thundering- how she cradled his head against her breast. His dishevelled bangs of hair felt damp to the touch.
Chevalier caught his breath, slowly sinking down and taking her with him to fall onto their sides on the bed.
“If that’s your response when I’m bad-mouthed by other people, I can only hope their next whispers are all the more vicious.”
Emma huffed, closing her eyes. A dim flash of sadness welled up inside her unbidden again, and she buried her face in his chest.
Her fiancé stirred, pulling away slightly to tilt her chin up. Emma blinked, feeling his thumb rub her jaw in slow, awkward brushes.
“I don’t know what was said, and frankly I don’t care. The past is the past,” Chevalier muttered, lips curving. The action transformed his face into a heartbreakingly tender and earnest look. “It can’t be changed. What I care about…is here and now, right in front of me.”
Her breath caught. Somehow, that was all she’d needed to hear. The rotten feelings of sadness and frustration on his behalf melted away under his unpractised, genuine soft touch. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back, smiling and kissing his fingers.
‘I feel the same way’ was left unspoken, lost amidst their lips meeting and hands straying anew, the royal tiger once again ensnared by the foolish, loving rabbit.
End
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
[fic] More of Barista!Yves fic
More of Barista!Yves fic
Ikemen Prince | Yves Kloss x Emma | G | 495 words
ao3 link (later)
Sequel to Barista!Yves and Customer!Emma vignette
A/N: The sixth of the seven fics for @cy-inky's one week challenge! Prompt is "Please don't cry." I did something a little different today and continued the little ficlet I had of Yves and Emma. There is finally a resolution! You go, Yves!
Divider by @/saradika.
His reaction was a disaster, and by the time Yves had reappeared Emma was gone. His heart leapt off his chest and did a freefall to splat into the floor. Jin was flirting with a customer, and Yves stomped over, whispering furiously to his brother:
“Where is she?!”
Jin took a few seconds before disengaging from the customer. He had a pitying smile on, and Yves dreaded the response.
“The pretty lady left,” he said, and he looked so concerned. “I saw tears streaming down her face ...”
“Gah!” Yves didn't wait for Jin to finish his reply before scrambling outside. He had to catch up to Emma as quickly as possible; he didn't want things to end up the way they were—him escaping from the confession and Emma thinking that she had no chance. What if she thought she'd be better off with that puppy of a blond? Yves had a better shade of blond than the guy! His hair shimmered gorgeously under any kind of light! He also had better sense of style—so take that!
Emma’s figure stood outside the coffee shop just a few meters away, hunched, head bowed, back on him, and Yves feared the worst. He dashed towards her, yelling, “Please don't cry!”
Emma started, straightened up, and whirled around.
“It's not that I'm reje—oh. You're not crying.”
Emma tilted her head, confused. “I'm not.”
“Then why ...” His gaze dropped slightly to find that one of her hands was holding her phone. “Oh ...”
Then he wanted to crumble into ashes—or fall in one of Clavis's pits.
“My father suddenly called,” Emma explained.
“I-I see ...”
Her expression lit up. “Ooh! Did you think that I was crying from rejection?”
“No!”
“Don't feel guilty about it, Yves.” Emma pocketed her phone and approached him. Up close, Yves spied some freckles across her ruddy cheeks.
Wanting to take a step back but resisting that urge, Yves remained in place, resolutely concentrated on Emma's (pretty) face.
One step. Then two. Emma's eyes shone, bright with intent.
“I'm determined to win you over.”
And this was it. He couldn't screw this up again. Now or never.
Yves took a deep breath.
“You don't have to win me over,” he said, carefully at first. He's going to melt right on the spot. “B-Because—I feel the same!”
Emma blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more.
Then she blushed. Like ink spreading on water, pearlescent pink blooming over her exposed skin. It didn't stop her from grinning open-mouthed, a sound of joy escaping from her.
“Oh, Yves, I like you so much!”
If Jin and Clavis and Nokto—and even Leon—could see him now, they'd hoot and whistle at his current state. He knew for sure that he looked like a tomato. He hoped that Jin wouldn—
“Ohoho!” Jin's voice cut through the moment. “I'm gonna call Clavis—”
“NO!”
Beside him Emma laughed, her hand intertwining with his.
#1WEEKCHL#ikemen prince#ikepri yves#ikepri emma#yves kloss x emma#yves x emma#ikepri fic#ikemen prince fic#fluff#?#fic#my fic
35 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello hello, new to this Ikemen world. I hope u are having a good day!
Can I ask headcanons of Chevalier Michel when the Belle is a very kind woman ( just like Emma ) but she is also very cultured and good at arguments. Having a passion for law, realistic books, the philosophy of nihilism, real cases of crimes and legal failures. ALSO INTO HISTORY. She’s a very good debater, with very good morals that she protects very well through words. Her kind persona shall not give the impression that she’s vulnerable. Her arguments can destroy and she never backs down, even when she sees blood ( even if she’s scared, a lot of self-control ). A hopeless-romantic with high standards. And she is NOT AFRAID OF CHEVALIER. She is also loud about how she does not understand why people consider him so scary.
I just want his first impressions on her and how he started to fall in love.
Tbh even tho I love him, if I was in that route myself, I would have started some arguments with him… maybe this is a self-insert ( 😳😳 ) but I just want to see him shouted down in a debate/argument by Belle for once.
A/N: I am sorry this took so long, anon! I hope I was able to cover everything 💜
Chevalier x Reader
Word Count: 1453
Chevalier Michel Headcanon:
He is standing, arms crossed as his glacial gaze watches the soldiers training. The clang of metal rings through the air as swords cross, each soldier wanting to do their very best to impress the cold prince. Suddenly a loud cavalcade of metallic clanking disrupts practice. His head snaps towards the sound and he sees a young page scrambling to lift up the heavy wooden sword rack where the training swords are kept. Chevalier’s displeasure radiates off of him, cold waves of icy disapproval. The young boy’s shaking hands struggle to get the swords back in place until suddenly another set of hands is there. One rests reassuringly on his shoulder, the other lifts a fallen sword out of the scuffed grass. You speak calmly, soothingly as you kneel, helping gather up the rest of the swords. The young page shudders when he glances over his shoulder at Chevalier whose stare has never wavered. You rise slowly, back straight, head held high as you meet those impossibly blue eyes and do not look away, a defiant expression on your face. Your gazes lock like antlers and a thin sliver of surprise courses through him when you do not back down. He wins of course, but only because the young page is tugging your sleeve, nervously but gratefully thanking you for your help. You smile gently, nodding and then glance once more over your shoulder at the pale-haired prince, who has turned his attention back to the soldiers sparring. You do not see the way those eyes follow your retreating figure.
A round table discussion on what to do about a certain anti-monarchist group that has been dealing with Obsidian in secret, trading Rhodolite information for weapons. You are allowed to sit in on the meeting, listening as the princes debate various ways of dealing with the problem. Chevalier looks bored. When Leon turns heated golden eyes on him, asking his opinion, he responds by stating the only logical solution is to arrest and execute the lot of them. And then you hear your voice cut through the rumbling of the men with a simple “No, it’s not.” Again those eyes are on you, narrowing in a way that would stop the heart of most people. You are not most people. You go on to describe a similar situation that occurred within the Jade kingdom, several decades ago and how instead of slaying everyone, the ruler turned them, used them to spy on the enemy they had been conspiring with. He tries to find fault with the idea, counter points flashing through his mind like the lashes of a cat-o-nine tails but no matter how he tries, he doesn't see a disadvantage. The longer he is quiet, staring at you, the more the tension in the room grows. The other princes are still, no one daring to break the silence. Clavis’s eyes glitter like a magpie before a pile of jewels. When Chevalier rises and leaves without another word, you barely hear the murmurings of the other princes over the emphatic hammering of your heart.
He finds you later that evening in the library, reading by candlelight. He ignores you as he walks to the shelves, scanning the many leather-bound tomes for the one he wants. You lean back, one elbow on the back of your chair. “Looking for this?” He turns at the sound of your voice. “I doubt you would be reading ‘The History-” “of Mercantilism in the Benitoite Kingdom’?” You finish the book title for him. His jaw clenches, the only outward sign that you have surprised him. Yet again. You close the book, the heavy leather cover falling shut with a small thunk and slide it to the end of the table. “I found it informative, if a bit tedious. The author spends far too long explaining why the need to maintain a trade surplus is paramount to wealth building and could have focused more on the need for a strong military to ensure local markets and supply sources are protected.” You stand, gathering several other books in your arms. “But perhaps you’ll find it useful. One is never too old to learn. Good night, Prince Chevalier.”
You are in the gardens, sitting on a stone bench, surrounded by a riot of beautiful red roses, their scent wrapped around you like a mantel of beauty. In your lap, a sketchbook where you are doing your best to capture them, pencil to soft paper. So engrossed are you in your art, you do not hear the rustling in the bushes. You do not notice the deafening silence. It happens in a flash, a blur of men emerging, dark shapes with swords drawn, coming towards you, and then the white storm of vengeance that rains down on them, thundering past you to meet them head on. Men’s groans rise from bodies that fall. The iron scent of blood mingles with the soft scent of the roses, a stomach-churning mixture. Chevalier’s sword drinks deeply, bloodthirsty and relentless until there are nothing but corpses littering the garden path like fallen petals. He turns to face you. His pristine white clothing is splattered red, matching the droplets that are strewn across your sketchbook, your gown, your bare skin. Inside you are trembling. Outside, you rise slowly, closing your sketchbook, pressing those drops of blood into the paper, painting your rose drawing red. “Thank you, Prince Chevalier, for my life.”
He sits at his desk, quill in hand. But it is not moving. It has not even been dipped in ink. What had he expected? You to faint at the violence. You to weep at the blood. You to burst into tears. To scream. To tremble like the last brittle, brown leaf in winter’s wind. He did not expect you to calmly rise, thank him, and walk away from the carnage as easily as if you were leaving a tea party. The blank parchment in front of him mocks him and pressing his lips into a thin line, he wets the tip of the quill. He manages two words before he stops writing again. Your interjection at the previous day’s meeting, using the historical example in Jade to convince the other princes that allowing the anti-monarchists to live was a better choice, the gleam in your eye as you met his and refused to look away. The curve of your mouth when you effortlessly discussed that book. The gentleness of your hand as you laid it on the page’s shoulder. The shape of your body as you walked away. These are the things that are flipping through his mind, like the pages of a book fluttering in the wind. Angrily he turns his usually razor-sharp focus back to his parchment. His quill has dribbled ink all over it. If it was mocking him before, it is laughing at him now. He growls, the legs of his chair scraping against the wooden floor as he pushes himself away from his desk. This is unacceptable. He must find a way to stop it. Now.
He finds you in the main salon. The hour is late and you have fallen asleep, curled up on the red velvet loveseat, wrapped in your pale yellow dressing gown, your hair shining in the warm light of the fire. Several books lay strewn about the carpet. He recognizes them as art history books. He should just turn around and go, but his steps are taking him toward you, not away. He stops in front of the loveseat, staring down at you, at the way the soft, flickering light caresses your cheek, the exposed skin of your calf, the slope of your neck where your hair has fallen to the side. And then he notices the sketchbook, laying open next to your head. His own face stares back at him, captured in perfect detail. Except there is a softness to his features, something that could only be drawn by a hand that is creating something it cares about. Something that has meaning. Do you really see him this way? Capable of this….emotion? He turns back to you and his hand reaches down, awkwardly moving strands of hair away from your face. His fingers brush your cheek in the process, a light touch. You stir but do not wake, unaware of what you have just done, of the way you have now burned the memory of your softness into his skin, the way your spirit has been branded into his mind. The unshakeable Chevalier Michel jerks his hand away from you, the unfamiliar feeling of his heart beating so rapidly is unnerving. He leaves the salon hurriedly, the fingers that touched you curling into his palm. He had come looking for you to end something. And instead, something else, something new and disquieting, has been born.
Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @scorchieart
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen chevalier#ikepri chevalier#chevalier michel#chevalier x reader#ikemen headcanons#ikemen fanfic#ikemen fanfiction#violettwrites
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝟔𝟗
↬ 📜 The Belle Covenant, Clause 69: "A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover." Emma initiates 69 with each prince. You know, for political reasons.
Leon x Emma; Chevalier x Emma; Yves x Emma; Nokto x Emma; Licht x Emma; Jin x Emma; Clavis x Emma; Luke x Emma • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: 69 (Sex Position); Oral Sex; Rough Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Bathroom Sex; Gentle Sex; Rough Sex; Deepthroating; Blow Jobs; Face-Sitting; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist
a/n: Welcome to my personal kinktober challenge, Visions of Temptation 2022 - that's right, last year's one. You can find the new one, Visions of Temptation 2023, here. DAY 1: ORAL SEX | SIXTY-NINE
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
The Belle Covenant, Clause 69:
"A just king ought to give his country as much as he takes. Belle is to oversee his equal sharing, for he must learn to treat his country the way he treats a lover."
"Now, Prince Leon, let's see if you're more of a taker or a giver…"
Propped up on his elbows on the bed, Leon had just told Emma he's hers to play with. He's so casual as ever, always there for her, ready to give a shoulder where she needs it. From how well they clicked it was bound to happen sooner or later, ending up in the same bed. Seeing Emma turn around and straddle his torso, Leon is pretty sure she's taking him for a ride.
Until she gets all comfortable with his cock in her mouth, retaining this position.
Now, Leon is not the one to idly sit and be pleased by someone without returning the gesture. It just doesn't sit right with him, when all it takes is a swift maneuver and Emma's leaking pussy would be right in front of his face and ready to be ravished.
The vigor with which Leon swirls his skilled tongue inside her depths can only be rivaled by the way hers wraps around the girth of his cock, tracing the delicious vein that protrudes on its side. She switches for teasing the slit of his tip, and Leon groans; the pleasure ricocheting right back to her core in the form of a sultry vibration.
"Suck it harder. Damn it, Emma, just like that… I'm going to cum, Emma. Cum with me."
They're locked in this loop of giving and taking all the way until their mutual peak hits. Hard.
Leon surely is a master of this trade, in addition to guiding her and praising her. She hums in bliss and takes a mental note of his skills, for future reference.
Chevalier is a tough nut to crack. First, he needs a good reason to cooperate regarding any of the clauses in the list. Why would he care? Second, he needs a good reason to comply specifically with the absurdish idea that Emma poses about 'testing his justness'. So she gets a little creative and a little mischievous, and gives him the necessary push.
In a little game of (big) cat and mouse, Emma jumps from the sofa to the bed before Chevalier can put his claws on her. Backed against the headboard of the bed, she has nowhere to escape, but the book that started it all remains in a secure hold against her chest.
"I'll give you your precious book back if you give me something in return. Or does the mighty future king of Rhodolite not see it fit to give in order to take?"
"The 'mighty future king of Rhodolite' doesn't fancy anyone touching his property with their dirty little hands," He looms in closer, caging Emma's body with his own, knowingly intimidating her, "And he has nothing to negotiate with thieves."
The book is snatched from her hands without much fight, and Emma sinks further down the headboard in defeat. The wise thing to do would be to retreat and rethink her strategy - and definitely not to try and seduce an angry Chevalier by letting out an accidental whine while she's still trapped sprawled beneath him in his lair.
Chevalier remains there, only raising an eyebrow - he shouldn't be too surprised by her open provocations at this point, but it's like he senses something genuine in her supposed act.
"You're hopeless, simpleton."
A sequence of Emma's half-spoken questions and puzzled sounds is merely background noise to the rapidly changing pace of events, as the big cat in front of her lies down and turns on his back. It's not exactly the equivalent of it trustingly showing its belly for rubs.
Emma's slightly trembling legs are gotten a secure hold of, as Chevalier drags her closer and on top of him - almost trying to be gentle but failing - until she's practically straddling his face.
Her pulse quickens rapidly as if she's been granted a throne she is unworthy of.
Just for tonight, she shuts her eyes and accepts the empowering pleasure it entails.
Sucking on her aroused nub until she sees stars, he almost makes her forget the idea behind this ordeal, until she has to remind herself about working for his pleasure too. Chevalier almost doesn't let her - at first, she thinks it's an additional dragging on of things for him, a bother. Once he lets her play with his intimidatingly big cock, though, it proves to be something different. The prideful second prince catches up with her heightened arousal shockingly quickly. His ministrations become sloppier. Such an exchange of pleasure, Emma concludes, is unfamiliar to him. He masks it very well - because by the time she reaches her own orgasm, it feels euphoric. He gave her a lot, and he took a lot, too.
Yves is almost too pretty right now. Emma laments not having him eat her out in a pose where she can watch his pretty face, his perfect features pressed into her cunt, his cute little nose squished against her clit.
His cupid's bow kissing her glistering, swollen pussy lips.
Yves maneuvers his frame swiftly over her body, just-bathed porcelain skin smelling of expensive oils and silky-to-the-touch caresses ghosting over Emma's equally cared-for body, as they shared intimacies in the bath beforehand.
Their exchange of pleasure is harmonic; voices joining together in a melody as they moan, aromas entangling in the air and delicate sensations as they roll in the clean, luxurious bedsheets. Yves softly guides Emma's body sideways before laying down the opposite way, muscles relaxing all over, safe for the ones of their sexes which are maddeningly pulsing in a chase towards a mutual peak.
Yves' love would trick you with tasting rigid demand coated with egoism; then reminiscent of a dessert with soft-crème heart, upon a bolder bite you'll discover what having your senses spoiled really feels like.
From someone with a mouth as big as Nokto's, Emma expects nothing but a big performance to come. She's in for a little more than she bargained for, she finds out as soon as her world turns upside down.
Looking at Emma now, Nokto connects the dots rather quickly as to why she's suddenly feeling coquettish like that - lounging on his couch whenever he's around is one thing, but getting so comfy that she's basically dangling her legs over the backrest, her best bedroom eyes following Nokto upside-down… He wonders if his antics are rubbing off her, or if she's giving him a taste of his own medicine. Hands folded casually on her belly, she finally poses the question that's been hanging heavily in the air, while Nokto dresses himself for another night out. It's now or never.
Emma is suddenly the fox's appetizer when he leans down and buries his face between her legs, the hem of her dress conveniently ridden up on her waist as if to clear his way.
She's never before given a blowjob upside-down but she likes a challenge. Nokto's crouch is right there in front of her face, so she makes quick work of his belt that he hasn't even fastened all the way earlier during his preparations for going out. It works out surprisingly well, a quick and explosively pleasurable deal sealed with a gush of fluid on their tongues.
Nokto works swiftly when there is gain for him, and surprisingly plays fair, too.
Like the carnivore he is deep inside, Licht loves taking his pray to his den. His room is mostly veiled in darkness and Emma's eyes are not well-adjusted to it by the time Licht begins ravishing her, but there is no fear in her heart. His tonguing on her heated core is calculated and it's nothing greater than what her body can take - and it comes naturally to her to want to give him something in return.
They're in no hurry, taking turns pleasuring each other, usually one being breathless and halting ministrations because of those of the other party. Emma feels shy being so vocal with a partner that only occasionally grunts every now and then. His giving is silent but evident and abundant, and she feels like putty in his strong hands. Licht takes long sweeps of his tongue on her sex, dragging her whole body back and forth with the impact, not caring that the bobbing of Emma's head turns sloppier. Once he releases his pent-up desire whole in her mouth, he tells her to spit if she wants - and feels his blood rushing forth hotly when she doesn't. In the much-appreciated post-sex cuddles session afterward, Emma catches a glimpse of a smile and dozes off contently.
Everything Emma learned about Jin's sex life, she learned against her will. Though it would be a lie if she said she wasn't once curious whether the rumors were true.
Her observations so far are that as many women the first prince has taken to bed, he is in the habit of behaving like he hasn't been with one in ages. Paying attention to every naked millimeter of her skin, Jin's hands never stop roaming, pleasuring, loving. He also eats her out as if he hasn't put food in his mouth for decades, she notices - a deep masculine grunt leaving his throat at the first taste of her hot juices on his tongue. He is a big boy who doesn't mind getting dirty, and that might be the best thing about him, as much as Emma refuses to admit. His technique is worked to perfection - the youthfully needy opening act serving just to trick her. It's funny how she attempted to blow him first and then turn it into a hot sixty-nine from there, when in reality he was the one to initiate that. Jin always struck her as the person who likes to sit back in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, one on her head, as he's been serviced. But he is a giver, a damn good giver.
Emma doesn't know why she had expectations of Clavis doing this straightforwardly and fairly, when he's already a well-known menace outside the bedroom. Being naked and open for his cruel teasings, for the touch of those wicked fingers that aim to irritate and to never satisfy, it drives her crazy. Clavis demands to be the one touching her and not the other way around - after all, there are so many ways to play with a bunny like Emma, why limit themselves to some boring position? Clavis has Emma climaxing twice on his fingers before he finally allows her to return some of the pleasure, guiding his flushed tip past her thoroughly kissed and swollen lips. She then understands - for all Clavis is worth, he's prone to becoming an absolute mess once pleasured. The little delicious gasp falling from his beautiful curved lips soon turns into a hearty moan, laced with desperateness and lust as he pushes Emma's head to urge her to take more of his cock inside her tight, warm throat. His little plan of turning her into a pliant, overstimulated pile of limbs is unsuccessful when he possesses a voice so erotic it sees her hunger awaking once again, head full of thoughts about riding him until sunrise. In addition, Clavis seems to enjoy the rougher manner of Emma seating her dripping cunt directly on his face, leaving him almost no room to breathe. Maybe riling her up was all in favor of receiving her harsh command of "Shut up already and pleasure me properly!"
The chances of coming with the upper hand when bargaining with Clavis are low, but the headaches are always worth it in the end.
Luke should have been the gentle giant who lets Emma catch a breather even in moments of burning lust. That's how she always imagined him to be with a lover - barely-there touches exchanged between relaxed sighs, lying down in some secluded napping spot that would once again serve its true purpose once every last drop of pleasure is squeezed out of their bodies.
Well. While it does sound good enough to Emma, she wouldn't trade her current position for anything in the world.
Adrenaline rushing all through her body, Emma's heart is about to leap out of her chest with the sheer lasciviousness of how Luke has her right now.
Someone as tall and strong as him, she should've prepared herself to be putty in his hands. To be folded in positions she couldn't paint with her imagination… or, like right now, to be picked up with her ass up and held in the air as Luke shamelessly devours her cunt.
With pleasure rendering her silly, she can't possibly hold back from attempting to suck his cock while in this position, even if its massiveness in its full erect glory intimidated her at first. For the timid, vanilla experience she expected, fucking like animals is the last thing she saw coming from Luke - and she suddenly finds himself at his mercy as he has complete control over her body.
The aftercare is more reminiscent of her initial thoughts, and coming down from her high never felt better. Once you awaken the slumbering monster inside the youngest prince of Rhodolite, you're in for more than you bargained for.
Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @princess-pray-a @claviscollections @aceuuuuu Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikepri chevalier#ikepri leon#ikepri yves#ikepri licht#ikepri nokto#ikepri jin#ikepri clavis#ikepri luke#chevalier michel#leon dompteur#yves kloss#licht klein#nokto klein#jin grandet#clavis lelouch#luke randolph#ikemen prince fanfiction#ikepri fanfic#ikepri smut#visions of temptation 2022#visions of temptation
237 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Ikémen Valentine Gift Exchange Masterlist
Thank you all once again for another great and successful exchange! I can't wait to see you all soon :) <3
The Gentle Stag Spell of Love | Keith Howell x MC | by @queengiuliettafirstlady for keithsandwich
A Sweet Taste | Silvio Ricci x Emma (MC) | by @keithsandwich for goustmilk
Love Letters (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x Noele (OC) | by @goustmilk for drachonia
Chocolates & Cake (Artwork) | Jin Grandet x Lenore (OC) | by @drachonia for randonauticrap
Silent Letters to My Beloved | Rio Ortiz x Gender Neutral Reader | by @randonauticrap for coderealizes
A Chance Event | Clavis Lelouch x Female Reader | by @coderealizes for pondlilies00
A Trip Away (Artwork) | Nokto Klein x MC | by @pondlilies00 for maeko-kun
Give Me The Smile in Your Heart (Artwork) | Vlad x MC | by @maeko-kun for tacogawa
Under The Trees (Artwork) | Leon Dompteur x Julie (OC) | by @tacogawa for queengiuliettafirstlady
Together | Cyran Rose x AU Emma (MC) | by @violettduchess for readerinsertfiction
Fate | Comte de Saint Germain x MC | by readerinsertfiction for ikemenlibrary
Valentines in Wonderland | Luka Clemence x Alice (MC) | by @readerinsertfanfiction for bluejay-writes
Puppy Love Picnic | Silvio Ricci x Airin (OC) | by @bluejay-writes for airin-queenz
Sweet's Love (Artwork) | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @airin-queenz for ridiculouslly-ridiculous
Finding Home Within You | Leon Dompteur x Emma (MC) | by @ridiculouslly-ridiculous for chirp-a-chirp
Revolve | Isaac Newton x Mitsuki (MC) | by @chirp-a-chirp for fang-and-feather
A Taste of Domesticity | Isaac Newton x Reader | by @fang-and-feather for bicayaya
How To Take Care of a Sick MC | Keith Howell x Emma (MC) | by @bicayaya for pillowpillowillow
Love Potion for Two | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @pillowpillowillo for kalims-pessimist-bestie
Take a Break | Jin Grandet x Oliver (OC) | by @kalims-pessimist-bestie for olivermorningstar
Evening Ride With You (Artwork) | Licht Klein x Emma (MC) | by @olivermorningstar for xbalayage
A Hidden Feeling | Silvio Ricci x Reader | by @xbalayage for violettduchess
It's You. You're My Kink | Clavis Lelouch x Emma (MC) | by @ohtomatotome for kokorokai
Sweeter Than Chocolate | Lancelot Kingsley x Alice (MC) | by @kokorokai for daegupaksu
Tempering Chocolate (Artwork) | Sebastian x Mitsuki (MC) | by @daegupaksu for ohtomatotome
Smarty Pants | Leonardo da Vinci x MC | by @sunnyikemen for technicolorbirds
Haunted Dreams | Licht Klein x Emma (MC) | by @technicolorbirds for midwinterrmomento
Flower Language | Leonardo da Vinci x MC | by @midwinterrmemento for sunnyikemen
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Clavis x Emma
The Rose From
Bed to Bouquet
tags: fluff, slight angst, some suggestive content
Clavis
I'd let Emma take me anywhere. I tell Cyran, Jin, hell, I even tell Chev, that I'm waiting for her to whisk me away. What man doesn't want to get lost in chaos and adventure with the love of his life? I don't just love her legs because of how soft and pretty and infinitely comfortable they are. She walked to me on those legs, and one day, I hope, she'll walk away with me. Somewhere far, farther than far. There's so much of the world I haven't seen, the world and its beautiful people and their beautiful lives. I want to show her and I want her to show me.
Surprise me. Don't let me see it coming. That'll be hard, but not impossible. I know and she knows that sometimes I can be... a little...
Anyway, I've already started packing. Revealing skirts, portable cooking set, shovels, med-kit, sewing-kit, a kit for making new kits, special toys. Cyran asks me if I have any self-awareness. He's already gotten bored and left the room by the time I think to answer what I assumed was a rhetorical question.
He's not wrong; is this supposed to be my surprise trip or Emma's? I deflate a little and plop down inside an empty lavender luggage like an oversized clown. I know what the problem is, but actually thinking on it stings as if I were pressing on an open wound. Not a big wound or anything, of course. Or it's that one wound again. The fear that...
Anyway, I'm almost done packing. Emma need not concern herself with this portion of our future someday trip. I am forever at her service, because she's passed every single test so far.
Emma
I can't help but feel my stomach drop a little when I accidentally come upon the small mountain of packed trunks and chests. Dammit, Clavis. Here I'd been, dreaming up plans for a wild, truly crazy adventure, something that would suit my wild and crazy lover. I was going to surprise him with it soon. I'd spent far too many afternoons giggling to myself as I imagined his face going blank and then blossoming into that sweet, beautiful smile that I loved. I hadn't told anyone else. I hadn't left any clues. It was all still in my head, so how did he-
I see a pair of familiar blue boots sticking out of an open trunk. Then I'm standing over him, looking down at him, wondering how he fell asleep contorted like this. Well, it's not that I don't know the answer. My troublesome king still doesn't let on how hard he works himself. I can only imagine all the extra load he took on just to have time to put this mountain of supplies together. I have to laugh, honestly, bitterly. You'd think he was preparing for the end of the world with half the stuff he has in here.
"Mm...a?" A warm hand latches around my thigh.
I flick him lightly on the forehead.
"Ow... don't do what Chev does...!"
I crouch in front of the trunk, reaching inside to loosen his cravat. His skin is reddish-pink where the fabric rubbed him while he slept. The white of his shirt collar is steeped in the sunset coming in from the round porthole to our right. He'd look like a doll shoved into a drawer if he wasn't so animated. His hand keeps finding my leg, my knee now, but the touch feels strangely innocent and vulnerable.
"I guess the secret's out," I say with a sigh that comes out heavier than I'd intended and yet lighter than what I feel. "How did you know?"
Clavis chuckles, still drowsy. "How could I not? After all, I am..." His brows furrow. "Wait, know what? What secret?"
I stare at him. He stares at me. Five or six seconds go by.
"About..." I venture carefully. I don't know why he would lie about this. "About... the trip I was... planning for us...?
Clavis' lashes catch the last bit of sun as he gives an exaggerated blink. "No... I was not aware that..."
I don't know how he finds room for both of us in this trunk, but he does. Two dolls in a sudden, wild and crazy embrace.
---
Thank you for reading! Inspo was Tom Sweterlitsch's writing style ^^
51 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dev-mallick
Hi class interior
uchihagods
mind keeps sayin'
abstract-minecraft
Hope!
annathepiper
sings on the corner
hellish-cruelty
chaos personified