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janumun · 3 months ago

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Obsidian Retribution (IkePri Gilbert von Obsidian - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian/Reader Words: ~4k

Tags: developing/denial of feelings, church desecration/sex, vaginal fingering, minor violence, spoilers for Gilbert’s route (chapter 9), re-telling of canon events, angst

Summary: What happens when you throw yourself into harm’s way in a bid to protect Gilbert at one of Clavis’ covert anti-monarchy meetings? Unconsciously stirring out the whetted fangs of the Conqueror Beast.

And you witness, once more, just how scathingly cruel his desire for monopoly over your body truly is.

A/N: I’m currently in the midst of Gilbert’s route but he’s been such a flowing inspiration and need that I had to write this indulgent piece for him, for myself and the five other Gil fans out there who would cry with me LOL.

Characterization might not be accurate to end route Gil, as I’m at the beginning of his route still, so this is written with my understanding of an early Gilbert. ILOVETHISMANSOMUCH.

The lethal sweep of the blade engulfs your vision entirely, the noble’s hand poised right above his shoulder — a strike you know you cannot avoid. Your life, as if you view it through the distant barrier of a panorama, right before it’s extinguished.

The sole knowledge that you do not regret your actions one bit, your one solace, eyes drifting shut, that one moment of death stretching slow and long.

A glacial whisper, of knelling death curls into your ears, “I do not recall allowing you permission to die by another’s hand,” His only pre-emptive warning, just before Gilbert grips a harsh hand about your neck and hurls you backwards—

“Belle!” Into Luke’s body as he catches you against himself right before you careen straight into the ground.

A whimpered groan breaks into the air right after; your whirling head, catching its bearings just enough to catch sight of Gilbert standing above the writhing figure of your would-be assailant, bunched at the ground. The sharp end of the perpetrator’s blade �� now within Gilbert’s hand — he brings up in a vicious arc, surely in murderous intent.

“Prince Gilbert, don’t!” Your voice breaks in terror into the air, before the knife is able to find home within its pitiful target.

His hand, fortunately, halts just before it slits through the noble’s carotid, the latter long having fainted in mind-numbing fear, unable to bear the single-focused brutality of the conqueror beast.

Gilbert raises his face as if operated via a puppeteer's strings, cut before it could fulfil its performance. Garnet gaze, sweeping slow, before it finds its next victim, within you. Your breath frosts within your lungs, incapable of function, the vicious weight of his terrifying visage subjecting you to his splintering displeasure, despite the cruel smile that remains even now, firm in place. “What is it, little rabbit? Are you begging me to kill you instead?”

“Prince Gilbert!” You hear Luke entreat, as if from afar.

A volatile shiver cascades down your spine at the look he’s giving you, thinly veiled revulsion and rage within that sole scarlet eye.

Gilbert takes a step toward you; your breaths coming in short, staccato bursts and yet you’re unable to turn away from the hungering violence within that gaze. Scurrying thoughts unable to comprehend why exactly he seemed so incensed at you.

“Come now, out with it. I know you wish to say something to me.” Gilbert offers you an encouraging smile, even as the murderous intent radiating from him with each step he takes forward, threatens to smother you entirely.

You know what he wishes to hear in that moment, of no mind to hear your own thoughts on the matter. An apology, for your actions, reckless, they may have been, but you do not hold an ounce of regret for trying to protect the man that continues to disconcert your heart; sink his dark trellises deeper into your soul.

“Prince Gilbert, I—”

The stifling pressure in the room, cut through only upon Clavis’ interruption, just as he steps into the room to offer a jaunty congratulations to Gilbert for providing an entertaining show.

The weight of his gaze flees entirely from you, your body — you did not realize you’d held steadfast by sheer force of will — collapses back against Luke’s comforting presence, just as he hauls you up and into his arms, to carry you back.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” Gilbert’s cheery voice drifts, discomfiting against your retreating back.

“Prince Gilb—”

“Take care you don’t let me catch sight of you again, or I might just kill you.” Your heart thrums in confounding pain at his words, the clear line he carves in between the two of you in that moment.

Your mouth unable to form sufficient words to try and catch his attention just as Gilbert turns away from you entirely, the soft flitter of his cape as he does, the last sight you capture of him, as Luke carries you away from the scene.

The longcase clock at the end of hallway has long struck midnight. You continue to pace, restless, about the corridor. Eyes cemented upon the window, affording you a clear view of the castle gates as you stake your agitated wait for Gilbert’s return.

Luke and you had returned a few hours back, to the castle in a private carriage. You’d run into Rio as soon as you’d alighted, almost immediately after, being carted in between the two men as they’d fussed you straight into the infirmary. The good part of the hour after, spent in making sure you were truly unhurt save for the minor scrap at your arms.

It was only multiple reassurances later and holding Rio back from charging deep into the night after Gilbert, did you escape from the fretful affections of your friends and out, to await Gilbert’s return.

His expression returns to your mind’s eye in vivid detail; the way that cold, scarlet gaze had zoned in on you, the shuttered intensity of violent rage underneath. It was as if you’d been looking upon a stranger.

Now that you’d had a few quiet moments to compose yourself away from the fright of your earlier situation, bone-deep remorse was beginning to settle within, at having displeased Gilbert the way you did. A forced companionship he may have forged in between you two, but the startling glimpses of his kindness that lurked beneath the serrated edge of his cool blades, had your heart shred asunder between fear, rationale and genuine care. You couldn’t deny it, not after tonight. You had, perhaps, grown to care for Prince Gilbert, far more than was ever appropriate.

The soft whinnying of horses disturbing the quiet of the night outside drags you out of your reverie just in time to catch sight of Gilbert’s figure descending the carriage.

You begin your rush towards the main entrance, but instead of making his way into the castle, Gilbert’s steps veered off towards a path leading to what seemed to be, the back of the castle.

You fly down the winding staircase and into the foyer, heart battering against your chest. Pulling open the great doors to the entrance before you dart after his retreating figure that is a mere speck in the distance, now.

You do not want to lose sight of him. You must see Gilbert tonight and make him listen to what you have to say. Despite your fears, you do not wish to abandon Gilbert with the notion that you did not care. Even beneath the carving of a beast, he was just a human too. A man who’d come so close to bordering a rapidly diminishing line in between friend and foe.

Up ahead, Gilbert ducks past belting cobblestone, headed in the direction of what seems to be the structure of an old church. You frown, thoughts wrought with questions you know you’d get no easy answers for.

The tapering sweep of his cape disappears just past the great, carved wooden doors of the church, and you too follow, on tentative, urgent steps, slipping through the entrance and into the church.

It sits empty, save for the dark figure of the man standing motionless, close to the pulpit.

“I didn’t think you were foolish enough to come chasing after me even after I warned you not to.” Gilbert’s voice drifts eerie in its calm, down the long hallway, even as you trudge closer on careful steps. “Tell me, is it that pure kindness of yours which feels for every living being, or an empty head that has dragged you this far into the beast’s den?”

Gilbert’s words are scathing, deliberately cruel, meant to burn. You have not heard him utilize that tone of voice with you in so long.

“Well then,” he prods; voice, sweet poison. “Are you going to answer me or shall I make you answer me?”

You drift further into the church on uneasy steps, the great doors behind sway shut behind you in a creak of finality, as if knelling of an ill-fated decision. Against all wise sense, however — your heart insists you do — you tread towards the man who stands waiting, at the end of the long, carpeted hallway.

A poised form; his head at an easy cant, a crinkled garnet eye fixated upon your foolish movements — you do not miss the incessant, muted tap of gloved digits across the flared bulb of his cane, an uncharacteristic agitation to his visage, you’re not used to witnessing on Gilbert. He stands, all obsidian, against the backdrop of watered twilight that filters in shafts past great, ornate windows on either sides of the quiet hallway — as though he is a devil awaiting the willing scurry of a sacrifice right into its willing maw.

You grit your teeth against the frightening intimidation he’s settled deep into your bones, a festering cloak he’s had thrown over in between you, warning you to stop prying deeper into his affairs. “I want to speak to you, Prince Gilbert.”

“Oh? What if I do not wish to listen, little rabbit?”

“Then, I insist you hear me out.” The cutting streak of his blade is so swift, you only but feel the soft stir of your hair about your face before your breath frosts within your windpipe at the deadly edge of the sword he holds against the careful swallow of your throat.

“You really do wish to die by my hand tonight. What an utterly insipid way to cut my fun short, Belle.”

You force yourself to hold your ground, even as the first tremors of fear crumple across your limbs. “I don’t want you to kill me.” Compelling courage to rise in the face of his raw vitriolic anger, you wish to parse the reason for his distress. “I only want to know why you are so angry with me.”

A serrated smile tugs across his mouth. “Do you ask because you really do not know?”

“I don’t. And I don’t think I did anything to warrant your unjust ire either.”

“Unjust...” he murmurs. “You would’ve realized it if you took but a single moment to think.”

Your mind takes his words and works about them in a million different ways. “I realize my actions were reckless...”

“That is a good start.” the sardonic amusement of his voice does not reach his eyes.

“But I do not regret my actions, Prince Gilbert. I...” you swallow around words that are sudden lead within your throat. “I do not think I could bear to see you get hurt.”

The admission uttered on soft, firm words; stews dense within the space in between you both. Gilbert's lone scarlet gaze, watches you, motionless as the terse silence stretches taut into several excruciating moments.

Before he gathers his blade back into its secreted scabbard once more, beneath the cloak at his waist — your breath escaping you on a rush of relieved air, you did not even know how tensed you’d held your body, until its released from the grip of Gilbert’s dread, with the withdrawal of his blade. The Obsidianite prince turns on his heel, the flourish of his great, dark cape behind, as he moves to seat himself in the first pew. He does not look back at you as he instructs, “Come.”

And you follow, without a word of complaint uttered; know that you tread in dangerous waters. A single, wrong move, and you’d miss your window of opportunity with Gilbert entirely. His emotions would be shuttered off to you, once and for all, were you to lose your nerve now and flee from him. Despite how part of your heart still tremored within his presence, how you still couldn’t help doubt each single edge of his kindness so deeply steeped within his malice; hope still sprouted within you regardless. Willing to gamble upon the Gilbert you often times caught glimpse of; one who’s consideration did not come attached with its poisonous strings.

You shift on anxious steps once you’re in front of him, Gilbert’s gaze, mildly muted of its ire when he fixes it upon you. “Your impulsive actions could’ve cost you dearly tonight.” He begins.

“Impulsive, yes... but even if I had stopped to think, Prince Gilbert, I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t afford to see me hurt, yes, I heard that silly part the first time you spoke it, little rabbit.” he reiterates.

You clam up on yourself.

“You could’ve died. Did you stop to think how much the mere thought of your demise irked me?” He angles the head of his cane, to tap against your hip, gesturing you closer.

And just as you steal close within arm’s length, Gilbert’s gloved digits are curving about your arm in a vice, hauling you down to topple onto his lap. His murmur’s a warm caress against the shell of your ear. “I would’ve hated it if you’d died.”

Your mind careens into a rash halt of all thoughts, blanking entirely at the quiet certitude of those words.

“...What?”

“Foolish, isn’t it?” His smile is wide, undisturbed across his face. Just as transient as the surface of a pond, subject to be disturbed by the slightest of ripples. “Even when I despise you so, Belle, I cannot let you go.”

“Prince Gilbert...”

Your mind cannot parse the meaning of his words. If this were earlier on in your relationship, you’d have understood him to mean he did not wish for his prey to be ‘impaired’ by another. Gilbert had told you so, on several occasions and in no less than explicit terms.

However, now as you look upon Gilbert; emotions naked, unlike you’ve ever seen before. Jagged enough they could cut you through if you dared try wade in deeper. Into the insinuation barely concealed behind that sole garnet gaze.

The arch of his cane steers a slow caress over the shirt at your chest, before it dents into a stop right above your heart. Gilbert presses in, insisting the polished head against the give of your left breast — your heart seeming to catch at the hook of it with how it seizes at the motion. “This right here could’ve stopped,” he mulls, almost clinically. The insouciant inflection of his voice disarming at the last careful barriers and inhibitions, thrown up in protection of your heart. “I am human too, you know, mere flesh and bone. I cannot be there to protect you each time that heart of yours decides it wishes to do good to all, regardless of their status as man or beast.”

“Prince Gil—” Your voice fractures into a pained gasp, just as he seizes the fingers you reach out for him, sinking a sharp bite around a vulnerable digit. You clench back further signs of weakness with the slow, aching sweep of his tongue against your captured fingers; the teeth that worry at tender skin, pinching another warning at your approach. And reach out, again, with your other palm. Succeeding in curving your fingers about his cool cheek in a tentative touch up the line of it. Thumbing gentle right beneath the cusp of a surprised gaze, singular scarlet disarmed by the tender action. Before it crinkles in mild resignation, half rebuke, “You truly are a fool.”

Gilbert tucks his face against your cradling palm, further allowing you slack, to temper at the beast that has — for the moment — lowered its great head to you. That is all the victory you need from him at the moment, for him to pay heed to you for the words you wish to communicate. “I’m sorry.”

The apology rings piercing in the quiet space, Gilbert’s gaze unrelenting in the long stretch of time that seems to trudge slow in between you both, the longer he lets those two words stew.

Pink tongue darting out a nervous path to slick moisture at long dry lips, “I’m sorry for not thinking my actions through and for not treasuring myself more in the moment. I realize that upset you greatly and I apologize for that, Prince Gilbert.”

He remains silent throughout your confession uttered, red gaze, and a gloved hand, tracing a deliberate path across your chest, right above your heart. You know he can feel the moment it thrums faster, beneath his welcome touch — why, why do you not hate Gilbert touching you? — gliding its exploration across the space. “Will you promise not to do what you have today, again?”

The thought of uttering a cosy lie, flitters through your mind for a split moment of relapsed judgement. Before fizzling in on itself; you know well how Gilbert despises untruths spoken, no matter how small. Would know, were you to try offer false placations. And so, you opt for the bitter truth — one you too, realize with a jolt of realization, “I... cannot promise you that.”

His eye rolls up to meet yours, the sharp edge to it, you swallow against, as if he has a phantom blade pressed to your throat once more. “For as much as I deeply regret the trouble I’ve caused you, I know I’d hate it even more were something to happen to you.”

“Those are dangerous fantasies to harbour for a prince of your enemy nation.” A muted smile graces his features; a dark gloved thumb he brings to trace at your lower lip, delicately disengaging it from the worrying bite of your teeth. As if he, too, hadn’t confessed so, in less clearer words, not too long before. A dangerous game you two play; you don’t wish to disentangle the throttling wad of your emotions tonight.

“Well, that’s too bad then, I guess, because those are my true feelings, Prince Gilbert.” You stare back, resolute.

His smile quivers in mild amusement. “I know.”

“And I’m willing to do anything to show my sincerity, if it gets you to accept my heartfelt apology.”

That garnet gaze shutters, taking on a hard edge at your words; the burbling shadows of darkness that catch just beneath that smiling veneer before it vanishes entirely. “You’re playing a treacherous game here, little rabbit, one that will unfortunately end in futility, no matter how hard you try.” His smile grows wider, until you’re seeing the flash of teeth in it. “Nothing you do or say can ever change the positions you and I stand in. So, tell me once more.” A firm arm curls about your waist, heaving you flush against the cold, clothed expanse of Gilbert’s chest, a stifled gasp leaving you at the motion. “You’re not silly enough to not understand the true implications of your offer, are you?”

Your next breath quivers out of you. “...I am not.” Your fingers snag awkwardly at the regal collar of his mantle, sinking into the soft fur lining the edges. “I wholeheartedly wish to make amends.” And you pitch your head forwards, the tentative kiss you touch against Gilbert’s cold lips has you shuddering in his embrace. “I can’t promise you what you want but I can convey my honest remor—”

His hand slinks into the catch of your hair, hauling you back towards him in a kiss of cool desire, mouth moving against yours in a manner, it leaves you flushed and breathless by the time Gilbert parts from you on a wet, sultry sound. A hand he cups about your jaw, thumb denting at your chin in measured strokes. You tip your mouth, catching the edge of his glove in between your teeth to tug, slow. Deliberate. Curving your hands about his, in aid, before you wrest the glove off his hand entirely. Moving to discard it behind, at your feet.

Gilbert’s bared hand moves to curve about the flare of your hip; a patient squeeze he applies to the flesh beneath. His other hand he extends in silent instruction for you to de-glove before you comply without question. You tremble above him in need, his simmering gaze more than making up for the cold you feel permeating through the thin cloth of your dress. “Go on,” he encourages. “You’re going to work for it, aren’t you?”

Your breath heaves with the slow rise of your chest, hand stealing past the stiff collar of his cape to settle your fingers at the side of his neck, tracing hesitant pads down the line of it. “You’re so cold.”

His lashes sweep shut over his eye at your touch, canting his head further into the warmth of your palm; a figure he paints so lovely, you know this empyrean visage is what you’d always envisioned within your mind’s eye when you used to read about kings and princes within your happy fairytales, long before in a time that seems so far into the past now. “You should warm me, then. Show me you’re capable of it.”

Sinking a vexed bite into your lip — adamant on proving yourself right — you hoist your knee awkwardly onto the narrow seat. Gilbert’s hands immediately flit to curve their supports against your behind and lift, just as your other knee too, settles by his thigh, effectively straddling him. Your breaths stopper momentarily within your throat with the expectant lift of his gaze, palms squeezing softly against your pliant flesh. Your hands fly towards the flow of your dress before you slip the material up against your thighs, deliberately exposing your bare skin to his gaze.

Gilbert's eye flashes; molten steel bleeding into the gaze, before one of his hands steal past the edge of your still rising dress and in between your legs to glance a searing touch in between your drenched folds, right above your underwear. You gasp at the euphoric sensation, hips lurching against his hand on instinct, trying to capture it deeper into you.

He indulges you — perhaps he feels particularly merciful in that one moment of whimsy — the pad of his forefinger re-tracing its path in between your folds. Before his thumb tucks aside the edge of your underwear, to slide index and middle in a slow, torturous path across the bare flesh from hood to base. Teasing the cool tips of them just into your entrance. Your body flares in mortified need to feel your wetness gush onto his fingers at that mere testing touch.

His eye rolls up to meet yours, the smile that lingers at his lips, immensely pleased. “You’re very warm here.” Propelling his fingers, slow, up into your clenching walls. “It’s almost as if you’re running a fever, little rabbit.” You moan against him, with each deliberate thrust, the pads of his digits finding your weakest spot frighteningly quick, to scrape repetitive, at the soft flesh. “Do you think I’d be just as hot were I to settle deep into your place here?”

Your hips judder against his fingers at those words, grazing the heel of his palm against the neglected bead at your apex, sending fire soaring through your body at that split moment of contact. Your soft, soughing sound of need breaks into the air, body gyrating down against that searing point of contact, in rhythm with the leisured thrust of his fingers into your spasming walls.

Before Gilbert, cruelly, siphons the heat from you entirely at the cusp of release, fingers pried out of you to drift up against his mouth. He sweeps his tongue against his drenched digits, copious arousal dripping past his wrist to soak into the pristine cloth at his thigh. “Sweet thing,” he hums, just as you flush further underneath his piercing touch.

And before you can manoeuvre your weak limbs for much else — mind so hazed in its lust addled state, you’re not sure what’s happening — Gilbert’s free hand is stealing about the curve of your spine. Pressing you down against the firm, hard strength of exposed flesh; the smooth head of him bumping about your nub to have you keening into the touch. Spine arching the rest of the way forwards without the coaxing of his hand, so he slips just past your entrance; fingers spasming into his shoulders at the stretch. You rock against that pleasurable almost burn for several, excruciating moments, in and out — surface thrusts — head falling back against your shoulders.

Gilbert throws his hand about your body, fingers splaying just beneath the wings of your shoulder-blades, hauling your coasting body to hold firm, against his. “Don’t lose yourself now, little rabbit. You have yet to satisfactorily apologize.” Tempting your body down into his lap until he’s propelled, at last, into your drenched walls, a rapid sigh issued from Gilbert’s lips at the sensation.

Your body quickly warming his into yours — the shape and stretch of him has you nearly faint with desire. “I’m sorry,” you croon on your first roll upon him. “I-I’m so sorry.” Grinding him up into your walls as deeply as you are able, the unyielding strength of him so numbing within your body. Even inside you, connected this intimately, Gilbert von Obsidian must have his own way with you.

And you’ve let him do so, for so long; at his beck and call, thrown to his tender mercies. And yet, your mind had gone and coddled unfathomable emotions for him within its bosom. He'd gotten past your defences, just as he’d promised; crawling tendrils underneath your skin, into your frenzied beating heart, deep into your mind, until he occupied every thought along with each waking breath of yours. And your tiny victory lay in the knowledge that perhaps, you too had chipped a small chunk past that obsidian armour and carved a shallow wound at his skin, of your name.

“I’m sorry for angering you, Gilbert.” You weep upon his length, hips driving fast towards a swift approaching release.

“You are, aren’t you?” He breathes, hands catching at your waist to aid your movements upon him. “I’ll forgive you. And I’ll forgive you for neglecting to speak my proper title too, Belle, since I’m the one who has ruined you.” His smile is almost sweet, pleasant upon his face as he looks up at you — you drink that saccharine poison down almost fervidly. “You’re allowed to be remiss this once, because we are friends.”

He’s driving, hard, into you — powerful enough the pew beneath you creaks with the propulsions — at an angle that has him brushing hot against your swollen nub in blinding strokes, just at the cusp of release, threatening to overflow. “So, call me Gil instead, when we are alone. I shall permit it, for you. Say it now.”

Your body breaks, spasming into a release so violent, your entire body shudders above him. “Gil.” You sob out loud, your arms he coaxes about the strength of his shoulders. Fingers you sink into the soft fur of his mantle to ground yourself, just as Gilbert’s warmth follows soon after into your quivering walls. “I-I’m sorry, Gil.”

A breathless, flushed grin, Gilbert von Obsidian buries against your mouth before he speaks. “Apology accepted, little rabbit.”

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

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You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter.

#ikepri gilbert #ikeprince gilbert smut #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri x reader #ikemen prince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #gilbert von obsidian x reader #gilbert von obsidian x you #gilbert von obsidian x mc #ikemen prince #ikemen prince fanfic #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikepri fanfic #you are so queu(t)e #Faa-ussary #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian

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etheries1015 · 10 months ago

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Hiii! I saw you write for Ikemen Prince, and I really like your writing, so I wanted to ask u a bit of self-indulgent headcanon 👉👈

I wanted to ask some headcanons for Chevalier and Silvio with a fem!s/o (or also gender neutral is fine❤️) who is insecure about having small boobies/a flat chest? If you're uncomfortable with it it's fine! And ty for reading this, have a nice day and drink plenty of water!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

This is probably my first ikemen prince request! YIPPEEEEE <3 heuheuehu.

Fem! MC who is insecure about their small breasts </3

Featuring: Chevalier and Silvio!

general warnings: Afab reader + fem pronouns, mildly suggestive, slight spoilers of Silvios route.

Chev

Chevalier could tell by the way you requested your dresses with more ruffles and outfits that hid your chest that something was amiss. It wasn't the first time he realized you had this insecurity, the way you would stare off in the distance at a group of noble women with envy and sadness glinting in your eyes as you took note of their curves, your hands absentmindedly fiddling at the ruffles the top of your dress. This went on for a week, the stares, the off-hand mindless comments about your undergarments, the mannerisms you had at night in your gowns, and the insistence of ones that accentuated the right places (he over heard you speaking to the tailor he had assigned you for.)

He thought this was normal womanly behavior, for every woman seems to find jealousy in others for reasons seemingly ridiculous in his eyes. Always being a man of action Instead of speaking words of affirmation, Chev would do things such as reject certain clothing you wanted to wear to balls and suggest something else that actually seemed to show off your flat-chested outline, or lay out outfits he had chosen rather than allowing you the freedom of that choice. He did not know that the problems were rooted deeper than that until you brought it into the bedroom.

Things were becoming heated when you insisted that you not face him during intimacy, and began covering your chest shyly as he undressed you with typical eagerness for the nights passion. finding himself becoming rather annoyed at your sudden shyness, Chev found himself grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, moving his eyes right above yours to tower over you.

"I thought I had made it clear," He stated in his usual monotone voice, "That you have no need to be insecure about something as frivolous as your chest." He grunted. Your eyes widened in surprise at his comment and turned your head shyly, your hands struggling to break free from his strong grasp with the automatic response to cover up what you have been trying so desperately to hide. You should have known he would have easily caught onto you.

"I can't help it, King Chevalier," You replied with sadness in your voice, "It's just something you wouldn't understand. Having breasts like this just...feels debilitating as a woman," You felt yourself choke up, Chevalier's eyes squinting ever so slightly as his lips began to lower themselves to your buds.

"You do not need to worry about such drivel," He said, planting a soft kiss against your small mounds before taking a gentle bite, smiling at your eager mewl.

"The size of your chest does not determine your worth," he said with his mouth pressed against your sensitive skin, hands snaking down to your thighs and in between, "Such silliness does not matter. As far as I am aware, one's breast size does not factor in what makes you a woman. You have many more qualities that I would see classify you as such, much more than something like your bosom." He riddled your skin with kisses and teased your breasts with love and attention, bathing you in rare verbal praise to match the marks he left upon your body. Chevalier was certain to prove to you in his actions over and over again that you were his queen, his prized possession, and the most beautiful being he ever had the pleasure of spending the rest of his life with.

Silvio

Unlike Chevalier, Silvio was a bit more clueless on things such as comparing yourself to other women. He thought he had made it clear to you that his eyes were set upon nobody else but you, for you were the shiniest treasure he ever laid eyes upon. He never actually noticed the jealousy in your eyes at passing women in the halls and simply assumed when your gaze lingered on another woman at balls it was perhaps in interest to their dresses. He didn't notice the way you would ask him to start providing your clothing with a baggier style, thinking to himself perhaps it was a trend you caught onto. Never being a fan of getting to know other women, he seemed to be rather clueless in the comparisons and habits they may make out of insecurity.

He had, however, noticed your silence and lack of enthusiasm whenever you undressed, the way your optimism as of late had dwindled, and how your smile did not seem as vibrant as before. This happened in your shared bedroom with the king, preparing for your nightly bath that became routine with your lover. He noticed the way you stared into the mirror with a look of sadness glinting in your eyes, your arms moving up to cover your chest and sighing.

He was quick to move behind you, snaking arms around your waist and moving his head to kiss you gently against your neck. You tried to give him your normal enthusiastic smile with very little success, groaning in frustration at your low energy.

"What's gotten into ya?" He asked with worry thick in his tone, "Why're ya covering up like that? Let me see you," He purred, turning your body and tilting your chin to reach his gaze. You pursed your lips and gave into your resolve of leaving him out of it, blurting out your honest thoughts to your lover.

"Aren't you...y'know... embarrassed to be with someone with not many..um.." You glanced down at your chest before looking back up at him, "Assets?" Silvio's eyes widened in shock at your sudden inquiry, grunting in annoyance as he lifted you up with great strength and sat you on the counter of the bathroom.

"Hah? What are you on about?" He sneered, furrowing his eyebrows and holding your body close to his, "Ain't nothing wrong with being a bit flat chested- if that's what you're talking about." You looked away with a blush upon your cheeks.

"So you admit that I have small boobs?" You were half teasing your lover, knowing the best way to talk to him seemed to be with playful banter. He raised his eyebrows at this accusation, although his gaze remained sweet and calm seeing through your rouse.

"Well, yeah you ain't gotta lot there. But none of that matters to me, and it shouldn't matter to you."

"I feel like it makes me less of a woman," You pouted, "There's a lot of other women who-" He cut you off with a rough kiss against your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth and moving his hands to cup your breasts. He began to massage it gently, a hum of satisfaction deep in his throat. Silvio pulled away with an arrogant smile at your pout, trailing kisses from your jawline down to the breasts you claimed you detested.

"You better stop all that talk. You should know by now that you are more a woman than any of those plastic noble women will ever be," He placed kisses around your now sensitive mounds, "Now, next time just come out with it and tell me instead of bein' all sulky, alright? I don't care how long it takes or how many times I gotta do it, I'll convince ya time and time again how you're my queen."

#Ikemen #Ikemen x reader #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikemen prince headcannons #ikepri fanfictions #silvio ricci #Silvio ricci x reader #Chevalier michel x reader #chevalier x reader

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whatever-fanfics · 11 months ago

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Imagine the princes as uncles

~~~

Ikemen prince

Suitors: Rio Ortiz, Silvio Ricci, Yves Kloss, Licht Klein, Nokto Klein

Tw: contains children, bullying, harassment, verbal harassment,

~~~~~

Imagine Rio and MC's little boy running from other kids in the palace as they see their uncle King Silvio. Silvio talking with other ministers has his back to the scene, being so engrossed in what the ministers are saying he doesn't notice his little nephew until he crashes right into his legs, almost losing his balance. His annoyed face softens ever so slightly, only visible to himself as he sees his nephews crying face, blonde hair slightly covering his reddened eyes, sniffling as he hugs the little stuffed bunny, made for him by his grandmother. A quiet "oi" fell from his lips as the young boy rubbed his face into the crease of his knee. Sighing in fake exasperation he lifted the young boy into his arms, quietly griping as he took out his handkerchief to wipe the boys sniffling nose. Resting him on his hip his eyes took notice of the three young boys, as he raised an eyebrow they flinched and cowered back. Immediately understanding the situation he spoke lowly "what?" Not at all surprised as the boys turned and ran scared by the man in front of them. The ministers could only watch in silence as their king turned back around, seemingly unbothered by his nephew hiding himself in the kings shirt. "You were saying" Silvio continued.

~~~

Or, Licht looking at the door of the kitchen, the light of the hallway cut off by the small shadow by the door. Sighing as his young niece made her way from the door to him, in her tiny nightgown. Not sparing her uncle one glance as she made her way straight to the cupcakes on the counter. Specially made by her father and mother earlier that day, try as she might she couldn't reach the cupcakes. Looking at her uncle for the first time that night she pouted at him and reached her hands up, with a sigh he put the rest of his cupcake in his mouth and lifted the young girl. "You shouldn't be up so late" he gently chided, as he set her down on the counter. She surprised him as she didn't let go immediately, he hugged her back and waited for her to let go. After she did Licht took notice of her barren feet, sighing he put his fur over her. Together the two sat in silence eating their cupcakes until each had their fill. Afterwards, Licht quietly carried his niece back to her room as she dozed off on his shoulder.

~~~

Or maybe, during a ball Nokto sighs as he downs the rest of his liquor and leads the noble woman out of the ballroom. Her giggles falling on deaf ears as he comes to a stop, her giggling ceased as she laid eyes on the scene in front of them. "Should we alert a guard?" She whispered, as she looked the young princess of age 14, trying to mold herself into the wall behind her as a young, most likely, inebriated nobleman pressured her. "Get my twin" she didn't like the way his voice lowered an octave. Nonetheless, she scurried off back to the ballroom in order to fetch the princess' father. Nokto wasted not a single second before walking towards the pair. Nokto's eyes darkened as he heard the young nobleman speak as he walked closer, though the pair had yet to notice him. "Just say yes while I'm being nice" the young nobleman paused and put his arm on the wall next to her head, half caging her in. "Honestly, I'm the best yer gonna get in yer situation. I mean come! on!" he learned in a little close to her. "You're not even a fully blooded noble, your mom is a Commoner and yer a twin to boot" he snickered before feeling a pressure on his shoulder. Not before feeling his weight shift, stabilizing himself as he looked at who had shoved him. Retort dying in his throat as he came face to face with the seventh prince. His legs gave out beneath him as he wondered if this was what a rat felt like when faced with a fox. Nokto's anger only quelled as he felt his niece squeeze his midsection, small sniffles escaping her. Nokto breathed through his nose, calming himself down, losing his temper now would only scare her further. They didn't have to stay silent for long as they heard multiple footsteps hastily heading their way. Nokto didn't have to turn around to know they belonged to his twin and his family. Nokto didn't realize it but he was holding onto her just as tight, only letting go as she wriggled herself out and threw herself into the arms of her mother. The young nobleman was ready to sprout tears as he stared up at Nokto, Licht, along with the young princess' older twin brother. Luckily you had been able to diffuse the situation enough for the guards to escort the young nobleman put of the palace. As Nokto was about to take his leave he felt someone tug his coat from behind, turning around he was surprised to see his young niece's reddened eyes and sniffling nose. Before he could ask she hugged him tightly once more, staying like that for what seemed for hours. The rest of the family looked on in silence as Nokto comforted his niece.

~~~~~

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri #ikepri silvio #ikemen prince yves #ikepri yves #ikemen prince silvio #ikepri rio #ikemen prince rio #ikepri licht #ikemen prince licht #ikeprince nokto #ikemen prince nokto #silvio ricci #rio ortiz #yves kloss #licht klein #nokto klein

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dotster001 · 1 year ago

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No Touching!

Summary: Leon/Yves/Jin/Clavis x gn!reader. You don't know how to get through to them. So you tell them no touching until they change for the better.

A/N: Idk how I feel about Silvio, but this is the plot of his event route rn, and it's so cute that I decided to steal it.

CW: Jin is his own warning, so is Clavis, idk if there's any real warnings in this one though, oh blood and injury in Jin's part, allusions to spoilers for both Jin and Clavis' routes

You told him he has to take care of himself (take breaks, have a decent bedtime, etc,) and he laughed, assuring you that he was fine. Since this wasn't the first time you'd had this conversation, you knew you had to take drastic measures.

“Until you learn to take care of yourself, you are not allowed to touch me.”

He stared at you for a minute, before bursting into laughter, reaching out his hand to mess up your hair. But you took a step back, just out of reach.

He grinned sharply.

“Real cute, Y/N. We'll see.”

It's Leon, so you know he's not trying to be patronizing…but the doubt in his voice in your ability to hold out just furthers your resolve.

He doesn't seem to believe you're serious at first. You're dating, why wouldn't he be able to wrap his arms around you, or press a short kiss to your cheek? Why wouldn't he be able to kiss you and cuddle you? Why wouldn't he be able to mess up your hair? Why shouldn't he scoop you up and take you where he wants to go?

He makes it about three days, partially because of how busy he is, before he calls you into his office for “an audience”. That's how you know you're in trouble. And then he gives you a talking to. About how this is childish. About how he's a busy man, and you're his stress relief, and now he doesn't have that. You almost forget how this started, giving into his speech.

But he slips. As you reach your hand over the desk to place it in his, his eyes twinkle with triumphant mischief. You pull your hand back at the last second, before standing up, and reminding him of the deal. Once he learns how to take care of himself, he can touch you again. He looks disappointed, but laughs anyway, saying he didn't think that would work, but worth a try.

It takes a little while. It takes some underhanded ploys on your part. It takes Sariel and Yves coming at him from two other angles. But eventually you catch him going to bed at consistent times. You see him delegating some of his paperwork to his brothers. You see him setting aside time to just be.

When you decide he's got the point, you silently slip into his office. You pull up a chair quietly, and sit next to him as he works. Then you place your hand on his knee.

It takes Leon a second to notice, but he slowly looks up from his work, then looks over at you. He smiles softly, and reaches out to cup your cheek. You tilt your head, preparing to nuzzle into his hand. But at the last second, his hand redirects to your head, and he nuzzles your hair so hard you're worried you'll get a migraine.

While you're dazed from the rigorous noogie, he wraps his arms around your middle, then drags you to the sofa in his office, laying you down, hovering over your body, and trapping your lips in a hungry kiss.

As belle, naturally you have to interact with his brothers. And he doesn't mind! He understands, and he even encourages it. But…Clavis? Recently you've been assisting Clavis with a project Chevalier gave him. Day one, he'd stood far far away from you while he watched, for his own safety. But he was fine with everything. Clavis seemed to be acting respectful. So Yves decides it's safe to leave you.

Which must bore Clavis, because suddenly his hand is on your lower back as he leans in closer to you. You know it's just to get at Yves. But Yves has become far more secure, so he won't- oh no he's yelling.

Once the project is finished, you think it's over, but both beasts have other plans. It's become an all purpose war, and you're the poor soul stuck between them. You know how this has to end.

“Evie,” you say as Yves “brushes all traces of Clavis out of your hair”.

“Hm?” He grunts. Grunts. Lord, Clavis has really got to him.

“You know if you don't react, Clavis will get bored and go play with someone else, right?”

Another grunt, this one far angrier.

“Evie?”

“He shouldn't touch what's mine.”

Oh. The beast is out to play. Brilliant.

“I'm mine, Yves.”

He groans, and practically slams the brush on the table.

“Yes, but you're my partner. Therefore no one else should touch you. Therefore he should keep his filthy hands to himself.”

“Okay, you need to calm down-”

“He needs to go away!”

You stare at him for a moment, deep in thought.

“I want you to remember, what I'm about to do is for your own good.”

He looks like he has a retort without you even saying anything, but you push on.

“Until you learn how not to react to him, you don't get to touch me. If he ‘can’t touch me’, neither can you!”

You walk out to a flurry of screams that you were not prepared for. You knew he'd flip out. You didn't expect this much.

It doesn't take long for him to not react to Clavis, because he just isn't talking to you, either. His stubbornness far outweighs his jealousy, and now that he isn't working adjacent to you. It's lonely for you, but, more importantly, boring for Clavis. After realizing Yves is no longer there for him to have fun with, he breezes through the rest of the project, and quite literally sends you on your way.

“Yves! I'm So proud of you!” You say happily as you enter the kitchen. Yves is angrily whisking eggs. While staring at the far wall. His jaw clenched.

“Yves?” You walked over to him, running your fingers through his hair. “Look, I know you hated that, but if you can put last Clavis like this every time, he'll give up on messing with you!”

He continues whisking and staring at the wall.

“Aren't you going to spill your eggs if you keep whisking that hard?”

“I don't like touching you, anyway!” He shouted, slamming the bowl of eggs on the counter.

Both of you stared at each other, and his eyes widened as he realized what he said.

You know he didn't mean it. You know it's a defense mechanism. But, dang, he's so easy to mess with. So you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he cries, and you feel his arms around you, as he presses his face to your back. “‘m sorry. I love you. I missed touching you.”

You hum in agreement.

“I'll give you some of the cake I'm making. I'm very sorry.”

“I'll forgive you,” you say with a giggle.

After he finishes the cake, he sits in your lap, and hand feeds it to you.

You know he's the secret that holds up the kingdom. But this can't be good for him. He can't keep showing up in your shared room, covered in blood. Sometimes he doesn't even wake you up. He just walks in, lays down, and passes out. Sometimes he doesn't even make it to the bed. He gets to the side of the bed you sleep on, sits down, and falls asleep, and you wake up to blood all over your carpet.

It's the third time this month. Luckily you were up this time, so you cleaned the wound, and bandaged him up.

You quietly finished wrapping bandages around him. You could practically hear him grin as he spoke.

“Wasn't that bad tonight.”

In pain, or not in pain, he relished anytime your hands were on him. Which took the bite out of your silent treatment.

Wait…

“Anyway,” he reached out for you, intending to pull you against him, but you took a step back. He grinned.

“Oh? Are we playing a game?”

“You can't keep doing this. There has to be someone who can do all this from time to time. Someone who can give you a break.”

“Nope,” he reached out again, and you took another step back. This time he quirked an eyebrow.

“I don't like that look on your face,” he said, still grinning.

You took another step back, hopefully far enough back if the beast decided to pounce.

“I'm going to sleep in the guest room. I really want you to think about training someone to help you.”

The beast tensed up, and you took another step back in preparation.

“And until you do that, you cannot touch me,” you said the last bit as fast as possible then bolted out the door. You slammed it behind you, seeing Jin two steps behind.

He naturally did not take to your suggestion. He seemed to think it was a joke at first. Which is why you locked the guest room door. He tries to sweet talk his way in, but when he sees you're serious, the voice outside the door gets quiet.

The next morning, when you get up to get ready for the day, you find Jin sleeping outside the door. You press a kiss to his cheek and he opens his eyes.

“I thought I wasn't allowed to touch you.” “I didn't say I couldn't touch you.” “Well, new rule, you can't touch me until I'm allowed to touch you.”

He plays so dirty. He stands literal inches from you, his hot breath in your ear as he whispers about how once you crack, you'll never leave his arms again. He'll tell you in graphic detail how he's going to kiss you so hungrily that you won't even think about trying this again.

“I told you! No touching!” You snapped at Jin, ignoring the book you had been attempting to take off the shelf.

You couldn't. You just couldn't. His hot breath, and pretty words, and constant presence was making this a punishment for you, not him.

“I'm not touching you,” he purred. You looked to the side. His lips, indeed, weren't touching you, just hovering. You looked down. His hands weren't on your hips, just hovering. But both his lips and his hands were so close, you could have sworn you felt him touching you. And this wasn't the first instance.

Over the last twelve hours, his hovering was closer and closer, so that you constantly felt his touch on you, despite him not touching you at all.

Between that and his pretty words….

“God! Okay! I give up! Bleed to death if you want, just touch me!” You cried. Instantly, the distance was closed, and his hands were on your hips, his lips on your cheek.

“I'll be more careful, since it bothers you so much,” Jin whispered, as one of his hands left your hip, and moved to massage comforting circles on your stomach.

He didn't learn anything from this. At least not the lesson he should learn. But you've learned that you'll need a different tactic to get through to him.

He'd been slipping into old habits, staying up as late as he physically could to study, talking down to himself in his head, skipping meals to care for his kingdom. Cyran, and his servants, and citizens know that you're the one who keeps him sane, and beg you to talk to him. They're worried.

So you try to.

“Clavis,” you said, trying to get his attention as he hastily made a plate of food from the spread the servants had laid out.

“Aw, feeling needy? Don't worry, I'll tend to you when I'm finished,” he said with a smirk.

You'll give him that. He may neglect himself, but he never neglects you.

“I'm worried you're overdoing it.”

“I assure you, as a gentleman, I would never give you cause to worry.”

It's a back and forth, where he clearly wants to rush to his room to finish something, but also doesn't want you to be too mad at him when he wants cuddles later. It gets tense, and finally you shout.

“If you're not going to take these concerns seriously, you can't touch me until you learn to!”

Clavis' plate falls to the ground as his jaw drops. Various servants are shaking their heads in fear, kneeling on the floor in prayer, Cyran himself looks green, like he could throw up at any moment.

Clavis opens and shuts his mouth a couple times, before a slow smile spreads on his face. You know that smile. That smile is never good.

“Alright,” he says, before walking out of the room. The second he's gone, the silence is broken, and everyone is crying, shouting, and talking at you.

You don't see Clavis for a week. But everyone else does. And they all come back to you to tell you all about it. Apparently, with his favorite person not around to play with, the pranks and horrible cooking have skyrocketed. He's acting maniacal, like a true villain.

Not your problem. At least that's what you say that first week. Then you walk out of your room in the morning, and slip on a banana peel. When you look up, you see various innocent victims also slipping on the peel lined hallway. Including Cyran, who looks on the brink of tears as he pleads with you to talk to Clavis.

You find him in his office. Eating a banana. He says something along the lines of, “If it isn't the love of my life. How can I help you?” “You know why I'm here.” “Do I?” “Yes.”

You tell him you get that he's bored without you to focus his energy on. But leave the Innocents out of it. He puts on a shocked face, assuring you he has no idea what you're talking about. But with the glint in his eyes, you know he heard you. In all the wrong ways.

It's quiet. Too quiet. Cyran assures you that Clavis has been doing his work as normal, just with less pranking. But still. It's far too quiet for your liking.

Then the other shoe drops. You find a note in your room. A ransom note of sorts. You can't read it, but you catch the words, Rio, visit, and tower. So you leave your room in a rush. Only to be stopped by Cyran, who hands you an object. He tells you it's a newish invention, used for being out on hot days. He's been saving it for an emergency, and the time has come.

Clavis gets you revealing nightwear from time to time. But you've never worn pants like this. They couldn't even really be called pants, as there was very little leg to them. Cyran told you that people called them “shorts”.

Your legs were exposed, but you knew this would destroy the Clavis bomb.

You walked up to the tower, and when you entered you saw him looking out the far window.

“Y/N, I've been expecting yo-” he almost sounded like he was going to vomit the way he cut himself off as he turned to you.

Rio rotated his tied up body around, then went bright red, his eyes lighting up as he spoke excitedly behind the gag.

“Geh,” Clavis said, less a word and more a sound, as he stared at your legs.

You stalked over to Rio, feeling powerful, as you un gagged him.

“Y/N, you look so beautiful,” Rio said with hearts in his eyes. “And you came to save me? I can't help but fall more in love with you!”

That snapped Clavis out of it, mostly. He strode over to Rio, and covered his eyes, ignoring the disappointed whine.

“What- what- what-,” he choked out, unable to put a thought together. “Legs,” he spit out, still sounding like he'd vomit.

“Free Rio, prove to me you can take care of yourself, and you can see me in these shorts whenever you want,” you tried to say it without embarrassment, because while Clavis could get jealous, that wouldn't stop him from asking you to wear them everyday.

He whined, reaching out for you with the grabby hands of a toddler. You took a step back and gave him a stern look.

“Y/N,” he whined. “I'll be good. I'll take care of myself. I'll let the hound go. Just lemme touch!”

“You swear?” You ask.

He nodded quickly, his eyes pinned to your legs.

“Release Rio, then you can-”

He moved so fast, you couldn't finish the thought. He cut Rio loose, fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around your legs, and pressed the side of his face to your thighs.

All in the span of seconds.

“Rio, can you-” you began.

“I'm leaving, don't worry. I'll see you later.” He walked past, and you stared down at the blissed out Clavis who was singing something under his breath, to your legs.

#ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince #leon dompteur x reader #leon dompteur #yves kloss x reader #yves kloss #ikepri #jin grandet #jin grandet x reader #clavis lelouch x reader #clavis lelouch

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pistachiofiasco · 4 months ago

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bathtubs, haircuts, storms

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader Genre: fluff, soft hours Words: 736 Warnings: n/a

Also on AO3!

here's another little thing for my beloved little menace man. fun fact but i wrote this before the forever with you story event but i wasn't sure about the characterisation. I cannot describe the vindication I felt at the discussion Gilbert and MC have about trust lmao

"I should learn how to cut hair, so I can trim yours when you need it." He gave a quiet hum, unresponsive for the most part.

You couldn't see his face from this angle, had expected more of a reaction, maybe one of those delighted smiles for when you showered him with attention. Rinsing his hair, letting hair as black as obsidian (hah) slip between your fingers, you frowned lightly at a sudden thought. "Nevermind actually. You probably wouldn't feel comfortable letting anyone bring anything sharp near your neck."

You'd said it mildly, as lightly as the real un-offended feelings behind it, but as you turned to reach for the next bottle, you felt him shift beneath your fingers. Glancing back, you found him leaning his head back over the rim of the bathtub, mismatched eyes locked on you.

Oh, we're veering into sulking territory.

You raised an eyebrow at him, smiling softly at the pout on his lips.

"Do you think, in this situation, that you're just anyone, little rabbit?"

"I'm not," you agreed, settling back into your seat and cupping the back of his head against the cold porcelain. "But you still don't trust me as much as you love me."

The pout slipped off his lips now. His face had the blank mask on again, the one where you always got a little too close, a little too quickly. His eyes were still locked on your face, and by now it was so easy for you to see the whirlwind behind them. He'd turn the tables soon, re-establish his control over the situation, redirect your attention, lock down the fear with a genial smile, like he has done for so many years.

It didn't bother you most of the time; you knew it for what it was. And you'd already promised to spend the rest of your lives proving he didn't need to with you. In this moment, it felt like as good a time as any to remind him of that.

Before the maelstrom could pick a direction, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wet forehead. Lingering, you smiled against his skin as your noses bumped lightly.

"Maybe I'll learn anyway." One hand still holding the back of his head, the other brushed back the strands sticking to the sides of his face. Another kiss to his nose, you sat back up. He was still looking at you (he was always looking, always, long before you ever even knew). "So that when I prove I'm right, you'll be comfortable enough to let me."

It was like being in the eye of the storm, a momentary pause in all the chaos and confusion. You'd managed to surprise him (you were quickly becoming hooked on the thrill you got when he looked at you like that, wide eyed and lips parted, especially when what followed it was that boyish grin that you knew hadn't changed from the past, even if you'd never seen it). You smiled, grinned really. Red and blue eyes had settled. This one was your win.

You gently tipped his head back up, fingers lightly working through the soft black to scratch at his scalp, just barely grazing his ears. The slightest flinch and a hand shooting up to grip your fingers. You froze, wondering if you'd pushed just too far so soon. But he simply tugged your hand forward, pressing it against his lips in an approximation of a kiss. You took it for the acquiescence it was, smiling wider. This close, leaning forward, you laid another few kisses on his head, against his cheek, finishing with just the lightest, mildest little nip at his shoulder.

The regret was immediate. You yelped as his teeth sank into your finger, a sharp "Gilbert!" ringing out, and you saw just a flash of his grin over his shoulder, mischief in his eyes, as he pulled you bodily into the tub, clothes and all. Spluttering, spitting soapy bathwater and your own (now very wet) hair, you could hear him laughing, the sound clear as a bell, echoing in the room. Not bothering to bite back your own grin, you splashed him, trying to stand, complaining loudly as he wrapped his arms firmly around you, dragging you back into the warm water, pressing his cold nose against your neck.

And the storm came and went, like it usually did these days.

the man has trust issues and we need to work on them, slowly but surely. I just wanted to give him some pampering, maybe during his recovery period, while he's still having small fits/bouts of weakness

#gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri gilbert x reader #gilbert von obsidian x reader #cybird ikemen #ikemen series #2024 #fanfiction #i live for quiet affection #some of you might have noticed lol

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archetype-earth · 7 months ago

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Thinking about... ...Spy!Reader and Chevalier. Like, actual enemies to lovers. He may or may not be aware that you're just a spy, when you first come into the palace, fresh-faced and wide-eyed at the glamour. If he is, he doesn't show it. You're assigned to the library, since the last guy in charge was too incompetent. You haven't forgotten your goal, no, but this was probably the best job you could've gotten. Chevalier's eyes are immediately drawn to the gentle way you pick up books, cradle them in your arms like a baby, dust off the ones that haven't been read in ages. And as a spy, you are not unused to the darker aspects of life. The Brutal Beast is nothing to cower away from, and you boldly approach him to ask him about the book in his hand. I mean, come on, that infamous prince reading a sappy romance novel from fifteen years ago? You'd rather talk about which love interest is better for the main lead than fear him. And he lets you. Chevalier enjoys the insights you bring to the table, debating and discussing each and every new book you two read. (Because, yes, you have to read the same book so you can have a discussion about it.) (Try to read another book, and Chevalier will not-so-subtly push the book he wants you to read directly into your face.) Spy duties aren't forgotten but merely pushed aside, and since you aren't actively doing anything, Chevalier conveniently ignores your true job. You might get letters or other messages from your boss wondering what the hell is going on, but that could never be nearly as interesting as the time you spend with Chevalier. Mayhaps, you get exposed and it's impossible to ignore. Ousted out of the palace, and at the mercy of your unforgiving ex-boss, there is now no one to help you out of your predicament. ...Or is there? After all, Chevalier couldn't just let his favorite book lover just leave. (Book lover, or his lover that just so happens to like books? We all know which it is.)

#.thoughts #ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #reader insert #otome #otome game #cybird #ikemen ouji #chevalier michel

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writer-akihiko · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, this is the first time doing this but may I ask for one for Ikeprince where Belle was the childhood friend for the princes but they lost contact after many years and only meet again during the prologue. Thank you.

Rekindled Connection: IkePri Princes

I've officially returned! Thank you to everyone who's waited honestly. Also, I assume that you don't want me to spoil any content, so a few characters are omitted from the ask such as Gilbert, Silvio and Keith. Contains spoilers for Leon's and Luke's route mainly, but the rest are route spoilers inclined.

"The new Belle of Rholodite, YN." Sariel announced.

Jin Grandet

Even before the meeting, he dreaded the day to meet the new Belle. He was careful to hide his discontent from someone like Sariel and his younger brothers, promising to never involve himself with Belle

Your careful entrance to the hall where the princes gathered was expected, but Jin didn't expect… you. His princely seductive smile faltered, his face drawn to a harsh scowl instead

He knew who you were. He didn't know if the rest did, but it didn't cross his mind as his fist slammed against the table

Leon and Chevalier stopped their welcoming greetings, the princes' eyes on their eldest. Jin stormed out, clutching you by the arm, before glowering at Sariel. "She was never supposed to be a part of this."

Your soft protests rang in his ears down the hallway, before Jin pulled you tight to his chest

"YN… Why did you become the Belle?" His voice near breaking, he'd never wish such a fate upon you, even if it was your way of reconnecting with him

The guards slowly closed on him, however, with Jin as your shield, the common guards couldn't bear the thought of harming the first Prince Jin Grandet

Nearing the gardens, you struggled enough to pull away from the prince who suddenly seized you. The frenzy of the day got to you, unable to even lift your head in front of the country's princes… The fear rushed to your head that one of the princes wanted to take you immediately

All panic fled once you saw the man with the brown hair who you met oh so long ago. "Jin…?"

He stopped, regretfully turning to you. "I'll explain more later," He said, glancing back at the advancing guards. "Trust me one more time, YN."

Chevalier Michel

Oh, how he wanted to curse his deceased father from beyond the grave… There was a note of familiarity when he first saw you

As much as he wanted to be delighted, his position was too fragile. He couldn't protect you definitely from those corrupt nobles

He let a few days past, before he heard a knock to his office door. You were there, as he predicted. You would've seeked him out, one way or another

He allowed Clavis and Nokto to be in the same room, so he wasn't surprised when your smiles and clumsy behaviour turned solemn upon meeting him

"I didn't mean to, Chev." You began. The other princes wondered how were you so bold to address the prince without title, much less a nickname

He hushed his brothers, before turning to Clavis. Whispers of preparations filled the room, before Chevalier got up, exiting the room just before whispering in your ear to follow Clavis' words

The first emotions that go through his head were of fondness towards you. There were many things he kept buried behind his aloof personality, you included

He had left, not sparing much of a glance to you. He's been pissed off the entire week due to you being Belle. He read your letters of your explanation before, remembering that it was tucked with the past writings he kept from you since you both were children

Of course things wouldn't go smoothly, with how cunning Sariel was. Nokto and Luke getting drunk with their older brother Jin was as much proof as he needed, and soon you were kept from him

Clavis and you weren't oblivious to the situation. Being forbidden from leaving the palace until you made your decision made your and Chevalier's life ever more difficult. It wasn't something you expected, but sooner it became more comfortable even with the sudden addition of secret lessons of queendom here and there as Chevalier wrote that it was for you

Your lives were still as separated as before, but the letters were ever so warm as you both hid behind the guise of your titles. It was not time yet to be reunited with your childhood lover, so all Chevalier could do was send you a rose from afar…

Clavis Lelouch

The first emotions that go through his head were of fondness towards you. There were many things he kept buried behind his aloof personality, you included

He couldn't believe that you were that person oh so long ago, and neither can you. Clavis now was unlike before, perhaps it was better to focus on the task at hand

He stumbled over you upon the first meeting, but you made an effort to avoid him afterwards… but gosh darn was this man persistent

Bringing up things of the past, wondering if you had him in your heart… How were you supposed to know that he was a prince all those years ago? The time it was only nailed into your head was when the soldiers showed up was to threaten your loved ones

All these years and he wasn't a prince who'd comply to such rules. The opportunity given by Sariel was a way to make things better at home, so you insisted to follow them by the book

Somehow someway, Clavis Lelouch finds a way where it was just a moment between you two. The aloof prince gone, and a glimpse of perhaps the shy prince you once fell for

"Back then, maybe I did care, Clavis," You said. "It's not the time for me to be nice to you anymore. I ask you do not address me as if I were your friend."

He held on to you, stating how he never forgot your kindness towards him and how he too was forced to throw you away. "Just once, may we begin anew?"

Multiple instances of his pleas and your wavering heart finally was his. The pace was by your terms as there were clearly rules against your relationship Not like Clavis cared much for the rules anyway…

He got a kick out of giving a few nobles a heart attack after oh so kindly threatening them to denounce his title if they deny your marriage…

Leon Dompteur

He doesn't mention it at first, as he wanted to confirm his suspicions. Back then, you were the young girl who would secretly hand them off food when your family bakery was near its closing

He remembered how you still continued such, even after his adoption. For years he had to find you once again after news of your family migrating to Obsidian. You being Belle is simply another part of you that would give him the pleasure of getting to know you once more

How you returned, he'd never knew. His other brothers must've realised how much you piqued the interest of Leon so much so that he invited you often for small talks

From a few moments of conversing, he doubted that you remembered him. Nonetheless, he wanted to know more about the one who saved him back then

The sliver of friendship back then began to grow into companionship. You were someone that Leon could visibly relax around, and Leon was someone you could forget your duties with

It wasn't until Yves found that you had a knack for baking, and soon your goodies were presented to Leon's faction Your good friend takes nothing but a loaf of bread, not even the sweets you laboured over…

It made you quite curious, yet you couldn’t help but giggle from the adorable Leon's face stuffed with bread

As you stare longer at his stuffed face, the roundness of his cheek and his glinting smile… It was a moment of dejavu. Particularly the small boy back then who would always smile after you gave him bread…

Shaking off the connection, you excused yourself as you tried to recount any memories of the boy and Leon. It was uncanny for sure, but the conclusions drawn up in your head were too close to be ignored

"I had a feeling you figured it out," The voice belonging to none other than Leon emerged next to you. "Hello YN, I've missed you."

Yves Kloss

He was… surprised to say the least. He was silent the entire meeting, not moving from his chair even at your personal introduction to him

He at first, was unsure if you recognised him. Everything that you knew of him back then… he’s a different Yves now. The childish promises weren’t something that he should believe in again

Back then, he was a hopeless child, wishing to the little girl in his eyes who was his princess with a promise of marriage. “YN… pwease marry me when… when I’m bigger!”

The mortifying scenarios that repeated back in his head only served to push him away from you. It’s best if you forgot about him really, as much as he feels inclined to uphold his promise…

Jealousy did not catch him when he saw you amongst his brothers, but the irritation of some of them to pursue you so recklessly made him want to jump in at the chance

He wasn’t being demanding, was he? It was only a simple invitation to a tea party… with just him involved. Well, anything to get you away from Nokto really

He noticed you carried with you a flower ring, usually of any strays from the gardeners. You’d keep it around your ring finger ever so tightly, being frightened if it were to fall off

Oh… what an idiotic child Yves was. He proposed to you with a flower ring. All these years, you’d waited for him

His constant glances at your finger, particularly the flower, made you laugh. “Belle… YN… You knew it was me didn’t you?”

You picked up one of his favourite tarts, holding it to his face. “And if I said yes, would you finally replace this flower ring on my finger with a real one?”

Licht Klein

He wasn’t someone that would attract too much attention, especially with how boisterous and loud the others were. Yet, he couldn’t shake your gaze off of him. Why were you so attentive to him?

There was some note of familiarity to how you acted. There was no air of nobility about you, instead a comfort that was akin to a friend that kept his attention

It… began to be distracting for him. Not an annoyance like Clavis, but distracting enough to be a constant reminder throughout his day. It was… a welcomed distraction, if he was fully honest with himself

The day where you observed your duties as Belle could make him care less, however the times where you were scheduled to visit made him much more active. His brothers saw his much more vocal participation in such meetings

Much to Licht’s own detriment, Clavis and Leon of all people, always informed where your location was. Leon much less, but he’d always find a way to give Licht a heads up. Clavis was much more of an annoyance, but Jin was the worst, giving Licht money to buy ‘nicer clothes to impress YN’

It was not until you gifted him a woven bracelet did he remember you. Unable to deny the flood of memories that struck him, he pulled you into a soft embrace, sniffling tears that stained your dress. Murmurs of ‘why didn’t you tell me’ and apologies spilled from him

All you did was reply, saying how much you missed him as you stroked his back gently. Yes, you were the little girl who always played with him and Nokto, constantly comforted Licht’s lonely moments until you were forcefully taken away from him

By law, the land you resided in belonged to Jade instead, and all form of contact lost except for a woven bracelet you last left when you played together. He kept it with him, treasuring it even to its last threads

As he thought about it, your predicament only angered him. You did not deserve to be thrown into a castle of beasts, surrounded by only those who wish to use you

His trajectory as a prince now included you, to free you from any burdens as Belle. He acts in secret, just as his feelings towards you. It is not the right time to tell you, so locked shall his affections be

Nokto Klein

He doesn’t recall you. None of it really. He truly made a fool of himself when it came to you. An honest fool in fact…

Nothing to you clicked for him. Really, it’s not his fault, given that you two were about the age of toddlers when you played with each other. You didn’t know it was him either, continuing on your days as normal

Nokto regardless was a flirtatious man to you. His affections did not cease, yet he’s drawn to you for your utter perseverance to refuse him. The person who really comforted you was none other that Licht, his own brother. Nokto found his twin embracing you in joy one day, and he was utterly confused

He trailed you and his twin, until the point he reached the servant’s quarters. What were you two doing there? Surely, Nokto thought that you were in a secret relationship with his own brother! One of the princes… It frustrated him so, realising that the flirtations turned to genuine love for you

He was being cynical, wanting to catch you and use such information against you but he stopped when Licht took out a beaded necklace to give to you. One that belonged to their mother’s loyal maid…

“How dare you?!” He stormed the room, ready to draw his sword to his own brother and you. Licht knew how much such memories meant to Nokto. The loyal maid in question was one who cared for them in the absence of their mother, in happier times…

“How dare I? How dare you!” You argued back, clutching the necklace. “This was my mother’s!” You ran out the door, leaving the two princes in shock

Licht simply looked at his brother in distaste, “I don’t have to spell everything out for you.” Heeding the words of his twin, he searched for you. It was not difficult, considering your limitations and boundaries within the castle walls.

For once in his life, he apologised. With full sincerity. “I didn’t realise you were… her. It all makes sense,” He added. “Your mother... she meant a lot to me.”

The comforting silence that hung between you two was enough for Nokto. His feelings would come after another apology, one for his jealousy and another for confessing his feelings. He would hope you waited, just as he did

Luke Randolph

He didn’t want to meet you personally, since any past connections would ruin his purpose being there. It would hurt to explain anything and everything that happened after you left

He was a silent observer, going out of his way to make sure your adjustment to the castle was as well as it could be. You were still surrounded by the beasts he called as his brothers after all

Despite his refusal to meet you, you find a way to surprise him regardless. He was often the consumer for your sweets, especially your honeyed cookies. It was too hard to pass up!

The differences in your schedules lead to your once childish exchange of letters. Small notes of ‘We’re meeting up right?’ or ‘Remember to bring some snacks…’ passed between you, reigniting the cheerful friendship once again

He often thinks to skip his missions and meetings that aren’t in the palace. He knew he was getting attached, and that was dangerous. Yet… seeing you innocently reading in the garden makes him want to abandon everything he’s worked for

He doesn’t end up skipping work due to your persistence, but regardless he is skipping if it involves escorting you anywhere. It’s just another hangout, with fancier clothes and food

Ah… he’s going crazy. The second time he’s escorting you, it hits him. It hits him hard how much he cares for you. It’s dangerous really, but he’s a beast. Danger often follows the beast…

Afterwards, he’s more forward, especially with his brothers that you’re his. Some understand, some intend to tease while others have the intention to pry you from his hands. They’ll have to deal with his bared fangs first

It’s a stupid decision to tell you everything, but many nights with a burden would bring anyone’s shoulders down. Those in the past, how much they mean to him… To him, you matter the most, when you hug your bear, allowing him to weep

Some things are left in the dark, but as they are brought to light, he hopes you’re able to face it with him together. “YN… if anything… put yourself first before me okay? Just like last time…”

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yandere-romanticaa · 9 months ago

Note

Hi there can I have an enfp x ikemen prince match up? Thank you🦔

masterlist.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓:

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒:

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄:

#ikemen prince #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri #ikepri x reader #enfp #anime x reader #anime x mbti #♥️ girlie says #🤍 anon asks

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omkookie · 2 months ago

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⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, rut, PIV, oral, handjobs and nipple sucking, Rio wants to breed

Bunny!Rio whose rut starts at the beginning of the month. Despite his aching cock, and heavy sack, he's ready to give you some sloppy head in the morning and pretend that he’s still completely fine. He doesn't want anything in return!

He's so whipped for you, he's going to kiss your feet and worship the ground that you walk on. You so kindly let him suck on your pretty clit, so it's the least he can do for you!

His brain short circuits when you pull him towards you, and tell him to fuck you. He's not sure he heard you right, so he asks you to repeat yourself. When you pin him down on the bed and rip his shirt open, his pupils dilate and his self control snaps.

He grabs onto your hips and grinds his aching cock up against you, allowing you to unbuckle his belt.

You let him fuck you until he loses count of how many times he's ejaculated. After he cums in you again, he topples over on the bed. His cock is still hard and leaking cum, and his fluffy tail twitches from time to time. He lies there, tired, but still horny and turned on. He wants to fill you with more of his cum! He can see his cum ooze out of your pretty pussy and drip down your pretty thighs, but he wants more! He needs to breed you, to make sure that you're pregnant.

The two of you can have plenty of cute little bunnies! And he'll stay at home to raise them all, like the good little house bunny that he is.

“One more…” he pants, pushing himself up on his elbows, “One more time please” he begs, his cheeks flushed in a deep hue of red. He lies back down against your chest, and his hand reaches up to cup your right breast, meanwhile while his mouth latches onto your left nipple. He sucks your breast gently, his tongue rolling your nipple.

“Does my pretty bunny need to cum again?” You ask him, your hand reaching down to stroke his needy cock. “Please” Rio whines, letting go of your nipple to let out a needy cry. Ge goes back to suckling on your nipple as you jerk him.

“Is my pretty boy going to cum?” You kiss his forehead, making him melt against you. “Mmmhm” he hums, letting go of your nipple to bite his lip.

“I'm so close…. Please” His fluffy ears twitch, and his thighs tremble. Your bunny boy was getting closer to cumming again, and he held onto you for dear life.

“I wanna cum inside you…” he whines, “I need to fill you up…with so much little bunnies”

Your grip on his cock tightens as he continues to mindlessly ramble, “Please…oh… I need to get you pregnant. We're gonna..” he pants needily, “We're gonna have so many cute baby bunnies”

You'll let him cum in you, right? ;3

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #ikepri smut #ikemen prince smut #ikepri x reader #ikepri fanfic #ikemen prince x mc #ikemen prince x reader #cw;smut🍋#ikeprince rio #ikemen prince rio #ikepri rio #ikemen series #ikemen prince fanfiction

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thefemvoid · 25 days ago

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Rhodolite Rumors;Nokto Klein

Nokto Klein x GN!Reader (no use of y/n)

Prompt(kinda): You are studying for an upcoming test Sariel is letting you have time to prepare for when Clavis enters to do whatever he did(nothing probably) Around midnight Clavis leaves the library just as Nokto is entering.

(loading screen) Rumor for ref:

Warnings: Nope! Bad grammar and punctuation isn't technically a warning, lol. Use of Belle as a title. Dialog doesn't come in untill the second half.

You were staying up late that night in order to study for a test that Sariel had put together for you to do the next morning, you weren't thrilled with how late it was.

It was probably around 7pm, after dinner, when you had started studying for the test.

Around 10pm Clavis entered to do something, you were being really quiet, he hadn't noticed you.

It is now 12am and Clavis had been in the library with you for two whole hours now, he still hadn't noticed you. Around this time you hear the door to the library open, you glance up quickly to see Nokto entering the library with a book in hand. When he looks up he freezes when he spots Clavis staring back, neither speak.

You watch as Clavis exits past Nokto leaving the two of you there in the library, alone. Nokto walks over to the desk column you're sitting at, only noticing you once you flip to a new page in your notebook, and continue writing.

You flash a small smile at him and continue work.

"Good evening, Belle." Nokto greets with his usual sly smirk, "what are you doing us so late?" he asks, propping his head up on his hand that he is leaning on.

"studying for a test" You reply bluntly, nose still buried in the book you were taking notes from.

Nokto shut up after that for some reason, it was rather uncharacteristic for him. Eventually you finished taking your notes and revising them, grabbing your books. you stand up.

"Goodnight, Nokto," You said softly, glancing down at where he sat 'studying'. You hum and lean down to kiss him on the cheek that wasn't placed on the book he was reading earlier, "Heh, cute~" you mutter with a small smile, and leave the library so you could call it a night.

~End~

YAY! I did it!! I didn't think Nokto's would be easy to incorporate into this sort of thing(It wasn't) :3

Note: I would like to say that there are only so many rumors for these characters that are capable of being translated into a fanfic prompt, lol!

Keep in mind I am still new at this!^^

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikepri nokto #nokto klein #clavis lelouch #fluff probably #im lazy #Rhodolite Rumors

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onceonafullmoon · 1 year ago

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A Marionette's Ball

Yan! Chevalier x Fem! Reader x Yan! Gilbert

Tw!! Manipulation, threats of violence, implied captivity, period typical misogyny and Gilbert Von Obsidian himself

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal. And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

-----

You need to stop fiddling with your necklace.

You know you need to calm down, but doing so is another story; you can practically feel the weight of everyone’s stares on you, not malicious, but prying still in their curiosity.

And it’s tough fighting the urge to snatch one of the champagne flutes off of the waiter's plates and down it in one gulp, but the subtle warning of Chevalier’s fingers pressing at your waist helps you forget the idea.

Right.

Just make a good impression and then you’ll get to go back to your own schedule with only one scrutinizing set of eyes on you.

It’s almost impossible to mess this up anyways, with all the effort Sariel has been putting into making you a “true lady befitting of a prince”.

Ha.

The audacity of that claim makes you laugh.

As if you had a choice in any of this.

As if you were something more than a puppet on a string pulled by the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Nevertheless, you pushed through the lessons easily enough, it was, at the very least, an escape from Chevalier’s smothering presence, although you would rather have buried your nose into a good book instead.

At any rate, it doesn’t seem like much of your work will be put into play considering the way that Chevalier has you glued to his side.

You suppose you get the hostility, he’s always been a touch smothering even before… this, and it doesn’t help that princes from other nations are currently visiting too.

Not that you would have the opportunity to meet any of them considering how anal Chevalier was about your “safety”.

In fact, if it were a year ago when you were still “unruly” he would have probably kept you chained in his room the whole time.

Well, if all good behavior amounted to was this then you probably could have thrown a fit to get yourself locked up again. Now it was too late, and you were stuck smiling fakely at some random noble who came to give his greetings.

“My, my, if it isn’t the mystery woman that everyone’s been wondering about. Everyone’s been wondering about the one who stole the Chevalier Micheal’s heart, it's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you.” The nobleman, who you recall vaguely being named Lord Wessley, greets you with a certain, subtle prying look on his face as he studies you.

“Oh, you flatter me, but I’m afraid I’m not much to speak of. Any compliments should be redirected towards my fiancé.” You smile, cringing at the use of the word fiancé but happy enough with the way Chevalier’s brow furrows ever so slightly in annoyance.

You can almost hear his voice ringing out in your ears.

“If you have enough time to dish out praise, then you have enough time to do something useful with yourself, simpleton.”

“Praise worthy indeed!” Another man cuts in, rudely, albeit he’s possibly a bit drunk already. “An arsenal of military feats, a genius intellect that only appears once a century, and now a bride to be, you’re truly something else Prince Chevalier!”

You have to try your hardest to bite back the laugh bubbling up in you and Chevalier slightly grimaces.

Wessley furrows his eyebrows slightly at the intrusion but doesn’t comment, or rather, doesn’t get the chance to comment as he’s interrupted again.

“And what a beauty she is, I can see why you’ve kept her locked up away from the rest of us!”

And now you are no longer smiling.

Karma really is a bitch.

The grip around your waist tightens and you find yourself conflicted about whether to celebrate the (hopefully only) verbal lashing this misogynistic bastard will get or to intervene for the sake of this very clearly drunk man.

Empathy wins out in the end, but also because you don’t trust Chevalier not to immediately jump at the chance to “incidentally” find this man charged with treason.

“I’m flattered by praise, truly, but you look a bit sickly to me, are you feeling alright?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off smoothly.

“Poor thing, I bet you can hardly stand, much less answer coherently, but there are several couches in the foyer for you to rest at. I’d escort you myself but, considering the circumstances, perhaps Lord Wessley can escort you instead?”

Of course, Wessley himself isn’t too keen on leaving the conversation, seeing as he probably started it to discuss his own business. But when you phrase it in such a way of offering good will, he can’t refuse.

With a furrowed brow he replies in kind and leaves.

Perhaps Sariel’s lessons did come in handy, you think as you find yourself alone again.

A sigh from Chevalier has you mending your thoughts, not completely alone, unfortunately.

“How bothersome.” He grumbles, finally letting his arm drop from your waist.

“Yeah, being stuck around someone you can’t stand, tell me about it.”

He gives you a look which would scare the living daylights out of even a battle hardened soldier, to which you innocently smile at.

You know him well enough to know when you’re actually in trouble.

“What? Just offering some words of support in your trying times Prince Chevalier, now wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

Your smile dips into a frown when instead of falling for the taunt he smirks at you.

“Prince Chevalier? I recall being referred to as fiancé earlier.”

You narrow your gaze, regretting your earlier decision to speak.

“Don’t read much into it, you’ll strain your eyes trying to find nothing.”

He simply smirks again.

“Complacency is a dangerous thing isn’t it?”

He leans in closer, tilting your head up, sending roils of annoyance and slight embarrassment through you as you fix your eyes on his face, unwavering from his.

“...It’d be a shame for you, if all your efforts were for naught.”

He chuckles derisively, letting you go.

“Now, wipe that look of murder off before our guests get any ideas.”

You glare at him, annoyed that he used your words against you, before deciding to make a tactful retreat.

“Now that I’ve taken care of your nuisances, I’m taking care of mine for a bit and freshening up. Does that please your highness, or should I stay tethered to your side for another hour?”

He scoffs.

“Just don’t get lost, simpleton.”

To use Clavis’s terminology, the Cheva translation of that would mean: “Go ahead, but if you aren’t back in 10 minutes I will find you and there will be consequences.”

“...Whatever your highness wishes.”

—

You supposed Chevalier already knew that you weren’t going to the bathroom to freshen up, rather instead to find a private area to ruminate at being bested by him once more, and that almost made you even more upset.

It’s stupid that you’re even angry, you know that there's no winning a fight against him. It was already a given that he would twist your words around in an attempt to make you succumb to him, and yet…

You furrow your brow as you turn the corner.

It was all you could do, if you could annoy him, even just a bit then that would be victory enough…

At least it should be, if you didn’t get carried away with it.

But damn you for having a competitive streak and damn him for pointing out the one idea that would make you sick to your stomach.

(Although, maybe if you thought about it more, you would find it was only his own sick desires taking form in his words.)

“Complacency, my ass.” You mutter, as you push open the door to the library.

Despite this being originally Chevalier’s domain, you’ve also been quite the avid reader, and so any time alone with books was welcome. And even if you weren’t alone… well at least he had the sense not to disturb you, outside of his general presence.

Scanning the room when you enter, you find your eyes catching on the rows of bookshelves before halting when you see the shape of a figure, dimly lit by a candle.

You frown slightly.

While there were no set rules against entering a host’s library, it was still considered bad taste to enter rooms you weren’t explicitly given access to. Not that this person seemed unaware of it, judging by the lofty coat you could make out they seemed to be born into wealth.

Well, you weren’t exactly a shining beacon of manners either, considering that you were ditching your debut ball in order to sulk in the corner of a dark room because your captor/fiancé bested you in a game of wits.

Although, when you put it that way, your life does sound significantly more ridiculous.

You, albeit hesitantly, decide to give the person the benefit of the doubt and approach them to direct them back to the ball.

“Excuse me?” You call out, nearing the figure. “Are you lost?”

They turn around, and it becomes apparent that they’re a man. But not just any man, you realize, as a few more details come to light that have you suddenly freezing in place.

First, the dark crimson eye that gazes upon you while the other hides behind a black eye patch.

Second, the black cane who’s shiny finish glints in the candle light.

And lastly, the golden encrusted emblem, signature of an Obsidianite.

“Oh no, I’m exactly where I need to be.” Gilbert Von Obsidian responds cheerfully.

…

You suddenly have the sense that you’ve, to use words that Chevalier claims are “crude and boorish”, absolutely fucked up.

To be fair to you, you hadn’t been able to see even a glimpse of any foreign princes, much less would you have predicted that the damn Prince of Obsidian was going to be there, or more accurately here, in your lovely library safe space.

It’s not often that anyone other than Chevalier makes you stumped on what to do these days, but that goes to show how dangerous complacency really is.

“Prince Gilbert.” You finally manage to greet, falling into a practiced curtsey.

When you pull your head back up, he has an innocuous smile on his face, eyes crinkled slightly.

“No need to lower yourself, (Name) (Last Name), soon enough we’ll be on the same social standing won’t we?”

Oh, of course he knows who you are, couldn’t make it any less difficult for you could he? Still, the provocation (actually, whether he knew it as a provocation or not was a matter to be unseen yet) of your future engagement has you irritated as well as afraid.

“You never know what might happen.” You respond neutrally. “I’d hate to offend because I grew cocky.”

“Cautious, aren’t you?” He questions.

“That’s a good trait to have, although, I can’t say I would’ve thought the woman who tamed the Brutal Beast would be so meek.”

You want to laugh at his attempt at a jab, because he couldn’t be closer to the truth.

You didn’t tame shit; you were at best, a sacrificial lamb sent to curb the hunger of a ravenous tiger, only to end up becoming a plaything instead of a meal.

And now you were here, having somehow fooled another apex predator into thinking you were some sort of beast in your own right.

But even still, you couldn’t help the words that poured out of your mouth.

“I would argue that being meek and being cautious are entirely different, but it must be difficult to understand from your perspective.”

“That so?” He hums. “What’s your view then?”

“That you can’t tell the difference, because for you, someone who has been powerful and feared for so long, there’s hardly any need for subtlety when dealing with others. For people like me, discretion is a necessary tool.”

A tinge of bitterness seeps into your tone as you respond, or maybe it's jealousy; you can’t tell.

But it’s enough to make Gilbert pause, facing you, seemingly looking at you like he hasn’t seen you before, his eye glinting with something akin to interest.

Oh.

Shit.

You’ve always had a bad habit of overplaying your hand during your time with Chevalier, possibly because you were so used to a lack of consequences due to his soft spot. It would’ve been better and safer for him to believe you were Chevalier’s little trophy wife and suffer the stab it would take to your ego.

“...I suppose that “genius’s thinking alike” must be true, for you to be able to make such a succinct assumption about me.” He smiles, this time his eyes glinting with something darker.

“...I wouldn’t go so far as to imply that Prince Gilbert.” You say, desperate in your attempt to backtrack.

“Oh? Cowering now, are we?” He asks, the smile on his face growing more predatory. “And here I thought you’d be more vicious.”

He’s clearly trying to pry at you, to goad you into snapping at him, but you’ve since realized that the playing field had favored him from the start and you’d do better to avoid the trap he’d set for you.

“...I think you have rather high expectations, that you might think of me similar to the company I keep.”

“And you’d be right.” He says, drawing himself closer to you, even more empowering as he draws near, his red eye glistening like the blade of a knife.

You find yourself wanting to run, like the terrified lamb you are in the face of the threatening jaws of the beast in front of you.

But you don’t.

Because these damn beasts are always just toying with you, never daring to go for the killing blow.

He towers over you, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, but you find that you can’t quite summon up the effort to change your expression.

“…”

Moments pass and his eye widens a bit, seemingly shocked at your lack of expression.

“You aren’t scared, are you?” He states, more as a fact than a question as he pulls himself away to an appropriate distance.

You shrug as if to say you don’t quite care, but you felt like laughing.

The truth is, he’s wrong.

You’re constantly scared, every single day of your life.

When you wake up, when you go to sleep, you’re filled with horror constantly, terrified by the man who lays beside you. Every move you make is calculated and stuff, made in fear of the blades, not set to cut you, but rather everything you know and love.

Even now you’re scared, not quite by the prospect of death, but by the fact that it doesn’t scare you.

The fact that you would rather accept freedom in the form of being removed from your earthly ties than to live another life being tethered to this life scares you, because you know death is the only way you’ll be safe from him.

It brings you only slight ease that despite his best efforts of chasing perfection, Chevalier still only amounts to a man.

Gilbert’s laugh snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the man in front of you.

“That’s excellent!” He says, toothy grin lighting up his face, eye lighting up like he’s a child who’s found a new toy to play with.

Somewhere deep down you can feel a familiar sense of dread forming in the pit of your stomach that only comes with Chevalier, almost like deja vu.

It shouldn’t surprise you, after all it’s said that the prince of Obsidian is a genius only the likes of Chevalier could rival. It’s the type of gossip you used to absentmindedly listen to while busying yourself walking down the streets.

Still, you’ve survived Chevalier, albeit with your share of scars, you can handle at least one chance meeting with another snobby prince.

“Are you done threatening me then Prince Gilbert? I believe my fiancé is looking for me.” You say, keeping your tone neutral.

He chuckles, that wide, creepily childlike smile still on his face as he hears you speak.

“Of course. Tell Prince Chevalier that I congratulate him on finding such an interesting toy.”

“Of course.” You mimic, turning on your heel to leave. “Perhaps next time we can meet in a more fitting setting rather than the library, Prince Gilbert.”

Petty, yes, but he doesn’t seem affected by the rebuttal you throw his way judging by the small laugh he lets out as you leave.

Toy, huh?

You think, as you find yourself retracing your steps back to the ballroom.

More fitting than lover that’s for sure, but you doubt even a genius like Gilbert would understand from just a glance that that was the case, rather he meant it in a dismissive manner.

But still, you can’t help the bitter smile that appears on your face at the statement.

Because you would end up back at Chevalier’s side, and either through your expressions or through his own logic system that you couldn’t possibly fathom, he would understand everything that happened. And then, like always, you would end up locked up in a cage while, ironically, the beast who should be locked in there would prowl around, growling at anyone who came close, possessive of his toy.

And the worst part is, even though you could see the path paved for you, leading you to your own demise, you still had to follow it, like written in a story, like fate.

And maybe that’s why you smile instead of frown when you see your beloved captor’s face twist into a look of grim understanding as he sees you again, wordlessly gesturing you to draw nearer with his gaze.

Because ironically enough, the only person even close enough to understanding or even changing your situation was the same breed as the monster that possessed you.

And it’s an amusing thought to you.

But if you could see the expression of a certain dark haired man, thinking almost fondly on your interaction, you wouldn’t find it half as funny.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikemen prince x reader #yandere ikepri #yandere ikemen prince #chevalier x reader #yandere chevalier x reader #gilbert von obsidian #gilbert x reader #chevalier michel #yandere gilbert von obsidian #yandere x reader #yandere #fem reader #female reader #surprise im back

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etheries1015 · 8 months ago

Text

Dom!Sariel x needy!reader

18+ Minors DNI

for my IRL best friend who is #1 Sariel fan, hope you liked this bestie I love you

General warnings: Fem pronouns, AFAB reader, reader is more forward than MC in-game.

TW: Aphrodisiac, Face fucking, whipping, spanking, Dacryphilia, hair pulling, almost being caught

After not meeting expectations for a recent exam given by the Minister himself and your lover, you were surprised to see instead of his typical chastising, Sariel sits you down with a cup of tea. Unbeknownst to you, the true punishment lie at the bottom of the teacup... where he snuck a particularly strong aphrodisiac.

"What is the name of the 4th king of Rhodolite, and what is he known for?" A seductive voice inquired, looking down at your naked body stomach down and back arched upon the very desk you had failed your exam on. Your wrists were bound together and your legs spread by the force of Sariels strong arms, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. With your cheeks flushed red and beads of sweat covering your trembling body, it was obvious to any on-looker that you were not focused on the words coming out of his mouth.

"I- urgh-" You whined, "Don't know- fuck..." You let out a high-pitched moan as you tried to move your ass in an attempt to deepen his length inside of you, a desperate attempt to fill the emptiness that was itching for the comfort of your lover. Sariel 'tsked' and hummed in disappointment, completely removing himself from the warmth between your legs leaving you complaining about his absence. You attempted to move your head to flash him a needy stare, however, he pushed your head back down to the wood with a look of condensation.

"Uh-uh-uh..." Sariel sang, "I did not give you permission to move." You heard the familiar crack of a whip with a stinging left upon your ass that you had become tolerant to. That didn't make it sting any less, though. You yelped in surprise, going to scoot away from the black-haired devil before his hands wrapped around the outside of your thighs and roughly pulled you back with his hands. Without saying a word, he whipped you once more with a choked-out sob and moan leaving your body confused between the line of pleasure and pain. He frequented the use of his whip, but with the added sensitivity of the drink he had given you left your body in such a state of desire and sensitivity that it was particularly a strange sensation. The way the stinging left you wetter with every snap of his whip despite the pain it was supposed to bring, the hairs on your body standing on edge with great anticipation of every new mark he left upon your skin.

"This aphrodisiac is far more effective than I gave Prince Keith credit for..." Sariel smiled with satisfaction, using a gloved hand to spread the lips of your entrance and watch as your glistening slick substance dripped from your twitching hole. "If I hadn't known better, I would have mistaken you for a bitch in heat," instead of entering his fingers into you as you had hoped he would, instead you heard footsteps back and you turned your head in an attempt to peek at what he was doing. It was obvious he was teasing you, not giving you the fullness you desired, and completely disregarding your begs and whines. He could tell you were becoming more and more agitated every time he would touch you without gratifying you fully, the annoyance showing in your defiant glare.

Sariel folded his arms and looked down at you with a smirk and eyes of mischief, taking his whip out once more and caressing the handle of it.

"Since that question was so hard, I'll give you another chance. But I caution you to think through it wisely," he hummed, using the popper of the whip to glide gently as a warning against your sore bottom.

"This is- ugh," You huffed, "This is dumb! I'm sorry I got the exam wrong, but this is just cruel," You whined, your arms and knees throbbing from holding your body up, "Please Sariel, please fuck me, It burns, I need something in me..." You whined. Raising an eyebrow, Sariel bit his bottom lip at such a needy and desperate display. It wasn't often you were as vocal with your needs, the filth that was drawing out of your typically collected lips caused him to harden almost in an instant.

"If I simply gave into what you want," He held back his urge to ravish you right then and there, adjusting himself where he stood in front of your face, "Then that would defeat the entire purpose of your punishment. You failed your exam, and now you must pay the price for it...I'm disappointed in you, you know?" He pointed out, grabbing your hair and pulling your head towards his throbbing cock.

"Let us make a compromise, then. If you do well in this task, then I will give you what you want. Does that sound fair?" Without so much as a complaint coming out and only eager to receive what you were craving, you were almost too eager to open your mouth and take in his length. He chuckled at such a pathetically needy display, groaning as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him as far as you could go.

"I know you can do better than that," Sariel let out a groan from the back of his throat, gently wiping the tears that pricked the side of your eyes as you attempted to take him further. He used his thumb to rub your cheek with the affection of a man you wouldn't have guessed had tricked you into drinking an aphrodisiac, such small gestures leaving your legs like jelly and your stomach riddled with butterflies.

That kindness was short-lived, and you now realize was sweetness disguised as an early apology for what was yet to come. Pursing his lips and sweat beading his forehead, Sariel seemed to have reached his breaking point as he used both of his hands to grab the back of your head, forcing it down on his cock. He began to fuck your throat with reckless abandon, the sounds of wetness and gagging filling the air and tears streaming down your eyes. Watching you become an entire mess with your makeup smearing and your mixed liquids wetting your lips and cheeks, Sariel came almost embarrassingly fast. He let out a deep and uncharacteristically loud moan as he pulled out of your mouth, releasing himself over your face. You coughed aggressively and didn't have a moment to chastise your lover before he was already pulling out a handkerchief and rubbing your face apologetically.

"You did well," He said with honey coating his voice, "would you like your reward now? Or shall we stop here? I understand I was a bit-"

"Please!" You were quick to answer, "I've been asking you this whole time, please, fill me up! I need you," You whined. Sariel raised an almost surprised eyebrow before chuckling at your neediness and planting a chaste kiss on your lips, throwing the dirtied handkerchief to the side and moving to the other side of the table where your ass remained arched for him, showing off your dripping cunt enticing him to plunge inside. He pulled the top half of your body off of the desk, where your feet were now touching the ground. This made it much easier to have access to you as he pleased, lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance. Rubbing circles around your hole and spreading around your slick, he thrust forward gliding his cock on the outside of your lips to lubricate himself with your sticky substance, another needy complaint coming from you.

"Stop teasing me already and-" Your squabbling was interrupted as fast as it started, Sariel pushing himself all at once deep inside of your drenched pussy. You let out a moan and a shiver of relief, feeling full just as your body had craved. The pleasure was short-lived, for soon after beginning your moans were muffled by a hand shooting over your mouth and his hips stopped his movements against yours. You were about to protest before he whispered in your ear to be silent as footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Nobody was scheduled to be around my office this time...how annoying," Sariel grumbled. You would have put more thought into that statement if you weren't so distracted by his hips slowly and intimately grinding into you, hand still over your mouth.

"I suppose that means you'll just have to be cautious in your volume. If you make a single sound louder than permitted, we will get caught. Do you understand?" Giving him a weak nod simply to appease him, he kissed your head with a "Good girl" prior to his hips picking up in speed. His threats had little meaning as the low voices and tapping feet outside of the room faded down the hallway without even a glance to the door where such sinful acts were taking place, and you were almost certain you were now in the clear. Especially with the way the dark-haired man snapped his hips against yours, it was obvious it was empty words with little regard. He was acting as if he had been the one to drink the aphrodisiac, ironically the man who had done the planning to make you needy was acting as a wild animal drunk on the way your walls clenched down on his cock.

"It seems," He grunted, "perhaps the properties of the aphrodisiac make you much warmer inside...hah..." The slapping of skin filled the room, yet the fear of someone walking in was the least of your worries. He skillfully removed the ties around your wrists before pulling your arms back, lifting the top of your body roughly ravishing you as if he were a man starved of touch for days on end. You were in no better of shape, despite the throbbing of your knees and the film of sweat covering your exhausted body, your mind was blank with nothing but pleasure electrifying from where your lover took his place between your thighs.

tilting his head back and pulling you by your hips against his as he moaned with pursed lips, closing his eyes while his cock twitched inside your walls while your legs trembled with release. High-pitched moans elicited your lips as ropes of cum painted your swollen insides white, Sariel pulling out to watch your body practically collapsed to the ground. He swiftly caught you in his arms, smiling gently and planting a kiss of affection upon your forehead. You panted and looked up at your lover with lidded eyes fluttering shut, Sariel stroking your hair apologetically.

"You did well," He hummed with love honeying his voice, "Shall we clean you up now, my dear? And I believe a true reward is in store for your wonderful performance..."

You really did get the princess treatment afterward. After getting your clothes on he cleans up the mess left behind by your...endeavors, Sariel helped you back to your room where he bathed you and pampered your body with medicine and love. About two hours later with the effects fully worn off, you were lying in bed resting in his arms, talking about the effects of the aphrodisiac and how exactly it made you feel. You complained about the way he teased you when you felt so needy and at the mercy of his touch, the way that your body ached to have him inside of you yet his endless teasing leaving you feeling...well, words that you were not even able to properly convey.

You huffed, noticing the way he seemed to not fully grasp the extreme in which you had just gone through. Frustrated at his lack of understanding, you twisted a proposal to him.

"Next time, You're drinking that fucking potion."

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