#Ikemen prince x reader

[whatever-fanfics]

Has anyone thought about

Yves with a belle who is nonchalant and noncaring about his lineage, to the point where they forget about it because they don't think of it as a problem?

Like think about it, MC who wonders why this weird cat boy is following them at first but ends up liking him as he shares sweets with them.

I can see Yves with MC walking in town and some random person comes up to them, hurling insults and eventually MC gets fed up and is all like,

"What is your problem?!?"

"His lineage!"

"What about it?!!?"

And this guy just looks at them dumbfounded after arguing with MC for like 10 mins straight. He just leaves.

Yves is just standing there, tears almost sparkling in his eyes. Because no one apart from his brothers and his beloved nursemaid have ever stood up for him like that.

Upon turning back to him, you pull him out of his reverie, his shock still evident on his face "what?"

Flush extremely evident he fixes his throat and tells you a quick "thank you" before turning to walk away. As you turned to follow him you left one hand out of your pocket. A few moments pass by and he gently took your hand in his. A small blush on your cheeks, outweighed by his own.

[onceonafullmoon]

Ikepri Yandere chart (least to most dangerous)

(These are just my interpretations on the 8 princes ofc, and I’ll def do another hc collection for the other suitors if y’all want!! The princes in the color lists below aren't in any particular order, so you can rearrange them in your head) Warnings: implied kidnapping, violence (towards reader and other people), murder, noncon elements and manipulation

Green- not a threat Orange- you’re on thin ice Red- pretty dangerous Pink- you’re screwed

Yves

The most sane prince of the bunch arguably, so he’s also the least likely to become a yandere and the least dangerous one.

He’s too soft and sensitive to manipulate, and he doesn’t have too many connections in Rhodolite due to his Obsidian heritage. The only thing he really has going for him is talent with the sword… which isn’t all that great.

But while Yves doesn’t have that many talents, he’s a hard worker and he’ll definitely do his best to keep you by his side, no matter what.

Honestly, it’s more like dealing with a really annoying pushy guy who can’t take no for an answer than anything really scary, but there’s always the underlying fear that he might snap on you whenever you’re alone.

Nokto

Nokto is pretty unstable and sensitive despite the front he puts up, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Nokto has plenty of connections, so not only are you at risk of being hunted down by a rich benefactor’s mercenaries, any attempt of escape to another country be thwarted by his foreign allies

But don’t let his sly nature fool you, Nokto is deep down just a brat who wants to be held. And despite his manipulative nature, he’s hesitant to use those tactics on you because he truly does want you to love him back.

He’ll definitely try to come onto you a few times, but the likelihood of him forcing himself on you is practically non-existent, and he’s too squeamish to hurt you.

That’s being said, you’re still trapped with him for a lifetime, and you might just end up giving in.

Jin

With his aversion to love and the fear of becoming like his father, Jin becoming a yandere isn’t too likely… but sometimes fixation on not being something leads to being like it.

Jin’s a pretty physically tough guy and he’s well enough like by the people, so he’s got a few connections, but the most terrifying thing about him is the way he can get you to let down your guard.

He always uses whatever you’ve confided to him in secret against you by gently nudging you to go along with his ideas… after all, you trust him, don’t you? And if that doesn’t work, blackmail is definitely on the table.

Jin isn’t too scary, but he’s a bit… much at times, just a bit forceful when manhandling you. But he’ll never force you himself on you, swearing to himself that he’s at least better than his father in that sense.

Clavis

Oh sweet Clavis… despite his mischievous demeanor he really is just a pure hearted guy… that being said his desperate need to be loved can twist him.

Clavis has skills with the sword, shady business partners, and most terrifying of all, a very inventive and brilliant mind though he often underestimates himself.

I mean, (spoilers) he literally keeps an entire colony of people a secret from all the other princes (save Chevalier), how hard can it be to hide away one more person?

Not to mention, while he’ll never hurt you or force you to do anything you don’t want to do, he’s not above doing anything to put you in a more… vulnerable state.

You’re just going to have to pray he doesn’t figure out how to concoct a love “potion” for your own sake.

Leon

You might be surprised by his ranking here, but Leon despite the fact that he might not be very likely to be a yandere, is *very* dangerous.

Not only is he a talented swordsman, he has something that most of the other princes don’t have, a social life.

Okay, jokes aside, Leon is so likable and well respected that even if you do escape, hardly anyone will believe you, or if they do, they won’t even bother to care.

Leon isn’t completely deranged though, he’ll still allow you to push back and fight against him, but he has his limits too you know? Just don’t push too far, he’s not above roughing you up just a bit.

Chevalier

Yeah, you probably expected that he’d be pretty high up, huh? Well while he’s unlikely to fall in love, when he falls, he falls hard.

Chevalier might not have connections, but who needs connections when everyone is afraid of your sharp mind and skill with the sword? Not that escape from him is very likely anyway with his smarts.

The thing about Chevalier though, is despite his demeanor, he’s against unnecessary violence, so any worry about him attacking you in anyway is entirely unnecessary.

That being said, you’re not sure if the about the people you care about are in the same boat, and he knows that, so he uses that fear to keep you in check.

But he’s a genius after all, he’s sure he can make you fall for him eventually, it’s only a matter of time.

Licht

I bet you didn’t expect the babiest of baby boys to be so high up, but make no mistake, a man with nothing to live for has nothing to lose… except you, and he’ll do anything to keep you with him.

Licht is rumored to be one of the top swordsmen along with Leon and Chevalier, and while he doesn’t have any connections himself, Nokto is pretty willing to go along with whatever his twin brother wants.

But the thing that makes him so scary is the fact that he’s completely obsessed with you, he worships you, don’t you know?

Unlike the other princes before on this list, he has no qualms killing people if it’ll keep you with him. And he’s so obsessed he might force himself onto you if he thinks it’ll keep you around.

Be gentle with him. Not for him, but for you.

Luke

I mean, isn’t he basically already a yandere from what we’ve seen on his route? Platonically or romantically, if you catch this man’s attention, he’s going batshit insane for you.

It’s true that he’s the prince with the least resources having only known of his royalty for a few months, but he’s also the prince most willing to risk everything because of it.

After all, what care does he have for this kingdom? He only needs you, and he’ll do whatever he needs to keep you with him.

It also doesn’t help you that he has (spoilers) connections with the literal prince of Obsidian. If he needs to he can just grab you and cross the border.

And he’s honestly not above breaking a few of your bones if it means keeping you with him, though he might not force himself on you… hopefully. Just try not to set him off, he’s like a firework ready to explode at any minute.

[etheries1015]

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."

[janumun]

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!

If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here.

You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter.

[judenostopwaitkeepgoing]

MASTERLIST 😈

*MDNI!*

A/N: I only write the EN-released characters! So no Vogel HCs for IkeVil and no Tanzanite/Acroite/Kogyoku HCs for IkePri! Sorry! I'll write these characters eventually, I promise! I will also add IkeSen and IkeVamp content eventually! Thank you for reading in the meantime! 🫶

Ikemen Villains:

Crown's Favorite Kinks! 😈

Your Villain as a CEO 👔

Your Villain Buys You Lingerie 🌸

Your Villain... On a Leash!? 🐶

Your Villain Against a Wall 🫠

Your Villain to the Rescue 🪽

Telling Your Villain That You're Expecting 👶

Ikemen Prince:

IkePrince's Favorite Kinks! 😈

[redactedbimbo]

Ok this is actually so sweet...

Also went back playing ikemen prince lol

[pistachiofiasco]

fevers, medicines, fights

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader Genre: fluff, comfort Words: 2832 Warnings: n/a

Also on AO3!

i finally finished this lmfao it ended up so much longer than i thought it would don't mind me everyone, i'm just happy that i'm finally working towards living my best life and it apparently starts with incredibly self-indulgent fanfics for my favourite menace to society

You could tell as the carriage slowed that your plan to maintain at least some level of dignity and grace had already fallen to pieces.

A short but pleasant trip back to Rhodolite, but a difficult journey home to Obsidian. The changeable weather and the days long travel time had left your body sore and tired, compounding into a minor fever and a not so minor headache. Recovery would likely take a few days of solid rest. It would be such an unremarkable occurrence, if the man waiting beyond the comforting dark of the carriage was anyone other than Gilbert Von Obsidian.

The soft jolt as the carriage stopped felt like a (metaphorical) nail in a (metaphorical) coffin, which somehow didn't feel so metaphorical the longer you waited to step out. The outcome was a forgone conclusion, you knew, but still. An attempt (to delay the inevitable) couldn't be held against you.

A nervous "my lady?" from outside the door told you you had to move, dizziness and queasiness be damned. Even through the dark wood of the carriage, you could feel the increasing pressure of Gilbert's presence on everyone present. He had probably already figured something was wrong.

Pushing up the latch, letting the door swing open, teeth grit against the unsteadiness as you pushed and pulled the heavy (and, made with all his (excessively jealous) love or not, currently infuriating) layers of your dress to at least let you avoid stumbling out like a drunken fool. Or worse.

One foot at a time. You can do this. Just one foot at a time.

One foot at the edge. The driver, from his position by the door, seemed to sag in relief. You spared a glance in his direction as you pressed forward, down to the carriage step, wanting to convey at least some sort of "thanks" and "sorry" and "I promise I won't let him kill you". It was too bright though; you couldn't make out his face as you squinted in the sunlight under blue Obsidian skies.

Your foot landed heavy on the metal step and you could feel your weight shift uncertainly. The tremor of it shot up through you, sending another quake through the back of your skull. Panic was curbed by grim determination. You were not going to fall on your face in front of Gilbert and all these people. You were, however, definitely going to break your heel and possibly sprain your ankle.

Momentum carried you forward and even through the heavy pulsing in your head, the rolling in your gut, and the flush of gross sticky sweat dripping down the back of your neck, you could swear you heard a collective sharp breath. A harmony of dread and despair – Gilbert truly had picked people who could read the situation very well.

Eyes on your feet, you watched with bated breath as the ground drew closer. Even the slightly glossy polished stones made you squint in a blurry glare, as you waited for the impact, the snap of the boot heel, the twist and pain of your ankle rolling. It would spare you from the sting of scrapes and cuts and humiliation at least.

The heel hit the paved stones hard and you felt the shock of it jar its way up your leg, your body, in your head. The pounding increased and the sun bore down and you could feel your teeth grit against the urge to empty your guts on the steps of the Obsidian palace.

You heard, more than felt, the snap of you boot heel. Black gloved hands, black cape, black hair were all already there before you could lose balance, before your other foot could come down to brace you. Hands holding you steady, cape blocking the gleam off paved stones, black hair as good a place as any to bury your face until the world stopped tipping and sliding in all manner of directions.

"Little rabbit."

There was a warning there, more than a question. What the point of warning you now was, you had no clue. You had already crossed the line into 'clearly not healthy and not okay', there was no point picking a fight about it now. You found you didn't have the energy to say it though, instead sighing heavily against his neck.

The black shifted, hands moving to grip you tighter, head ducking to brush hair closer. "Little rabbit." There was an edge now; you were on very thin ice. You knew what he wanted, tried to pull forth the energy to respond. You had been telling him so often to communicate when he wasn't feeling well; you couldn't be a hypocrite now. You could do this, just a few quick words, just the bare bone basics. Not feeling well, rough trip and the weather was unkind, I'm okay, I'm not lying, I'll be fine after some rest, just help me get to bed.

Later you'd wonder if you got anything other than "bed" out audibly. As it was, even through the banging of drums in your head, you could tell the air had shifted. The blazing sun felt so far away now, Gilbert's temper chilling against your sweat soaked skin. Words were said over your head, sharp and cutting and clear enough that you could see the image of his daunting smile behind closed eyes in the dark kindness of his neck. Arms moving, shifting under you to lift you like a child even with all the layers of fabric weighing you down. Against the sticky skin of your forehead, you could feel the fast beat of his pulse under his jaw.

Go to Rhodolite for visit with entourage. Write multiple letters saying you're okay. Get sick on return journey. Announce arrival by almost collapsing out of the carriage. Well done me.

Breathing deep, you tried steadying yourself in familiar smells. The medicinal tone was still there, undercutting everything, but it had become increasingly overpowered by something warmer, headier, sweeter, (healthier). Always there was a whiff of vanilla on Gilbert now, as if the delicacies he'd raided from your kitchen clung to him as evidence of his (comparatively petty) crimes.

The thought brought a smile to your lips. He'd been using your vanilla syrup. You could smell it on his breath, despite having hidden it away before you left. Bad man.

As he lifted you, you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. You turned your head to meet his gaze, and finally get a glimpse of his face after almost a month away. You'd missed him too, after all (though he'd never be fully convinced, never fully understand just how much; how often you thought of him, wanting to show him and share with him the things that brought you joy and the things that reminded you of him. He still considered it going back to Rhodolite, after all, not coming home to Obsidian, coming home to him).

That red eye finally entered your line of sight and you felt your chest clench. There was a look there, beyond the anger ("you said you were fine, were you lying to me") and worry ("someone is going to die if this can't be fixed"). There was a panic, wholly unfamiliar to you. To him as well, it seemed. When your mind is clearer, you might be able to follow the thread of his feelings (you were always better at understanding him than himself). And you might consider how long it has been since Gilbert Von Obsidian has loved anyone, and what happened to the people he had loved before. And, most pertinently, where it had happened. But your head was still spinning, such thoughts feeling far beyond you at the moment. But you knew Gil (not The Conqueror Beast, The Worldwide Disaster, The Emperor Gilbert Von Obsidian, but Gil, just your Gil) still needed something from you.

"Gilbert." It was quieter than you intended, breathier too. You weren't aware of how you were breathing before, but the scratchiness of your throat made you realise you might have been panting. Swallowing you tried again, the sound more in focus this time, with more strength behind it. His eye never left you. "Rest with me?"

It was a question, more than a demand. What the point in either was you weren't sure; you (both) knew this man would deny you hardly anything you asked of him.

You were barely moving as he carried you, extra care being taken to not jostle you in the slightest, all the way back to his room.

A gentle kiss pressed against the skin of his neck, the smell of vanilla right under your nose, safe arms wrapped firmly around you. You were asleep before you even made it to the castle doors.

--------------------------------------------------

"You're awake, little rabbit."

Turning your head, you found Gilbert set up on his side of the bed. There was a strange wooden table, L shaped, jutting over from the edge of the bed frame. Reports and paperwork were laid across it and more were stacked on his bedside table, along with an ink pot and pen (vaguely you recalled a comment you had made weeks ago, half asleep, curled into his chest, holding on to him as he made to move to his desk. You had told him to make a table that wouldn't require him to leave the bed and he had laughed ecstatically as he attempted to peal your fingers from his shirt (you both knew he could have easily broken away from you, you both knew that he was exceptionally delighted at your display of clinginess, and you both knew that he would – lovingly – hold it over your head and you would – lovingly – deny any memory of it)).

Looking back at him, you watched as he pushed the table, turning it away from the bed (he had added a rotating hinge to it, of course he had, the show-off). He shifted back to you, leaning over to brush back some of the hair stuck to your face.

He was moving gently, more gently than you'd ever seen him. You smiled at him, calling his name and reaching for him, and watched as he breathed out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing.  The shadows under his eyes were darker than usual. Well, eye. The eyepatch was in place.

"Are you okay?" You reached out to him, hands finding his neck to play with the black strands there. The aching stiffness in your body and the heaviness in your limbs suggested you had been lying here for definitely more than just a day. He looked vaguely unamused at the question; his usual smile had a slight tilt to it that you could tell was fondness, with just a hint of exasperation. Clearly in no rush to answer, he fiddled with the stands of your hair, adjusted your duvet. He didn't seem mad at least and he wasn't throwing out threats of conquering nations so he wasn't sulking either. As he made eye contact with you again, his smile turned somewhat rueful.

"You, little rabbit, are a terrible patient."

"Excuse me?" That hadn't been what you were expecting.

"You sulked every time I asked you to eat something and you refused to take your medicine. You wouldn't listen to me even though I was clearly trying to help you."

Pot meet kettle, anyone?!

You stared at him, trying to parse if this was a joke or jibe, payback for sleeping for too long. He was still brushing your hair back, smile in place. Squinting, you read the lines of his face, his eyes, his lips. He wasn't joking.

Oh, you little...

"Well..." you said, and his one neat eyebrow went up at the sickeningly sweet tone, “now we both know what that's like, don't we?" Your tone was something of a surprise to both of you, with more attitude and more needling than you had intended. Maybe you were slightly offended. Briefly, you wondered if you might have cause to regret this confrontation. He seemed to find it incredibly amusing, lips widening into something more genuine (more childish, like having a spat with his significant other was enough for him to be having the time of his life).

"Are you calling me difficult, little rabbit?" He leaned in further, hovering over you on the bed. He meant to intimidate, certainly, and on another topic you might have backed down. But Gilbert von Obsidian called you a 'difficult patient' and that was not a fight you would run from.

"Well, you're no peach, that's for sure." You tone was dry, nose turned up and, taking a leaf out of his book, you raised one eyebrow back at him.

"That's incredibly hurtful, little rabbit. And after all the effort I went to to help you recover."

You could have caved, softened, and thanked him for clearly watching over you the entire time you were bedridden (there was still a tension, etched in the lines of his neck and shoulders, from worry he wouldn't easily own to – your heart clenched at the idea of what he might have felt sitting and waiting beside you, what memories it might have dragged up). But you were still a bit miffed and his smile was brighter with every word you said, so today you wouldn't give in so easily.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you went through so much looking after little old me."

"Are you mocking my efforts to help you, little rabbit?"

"Are you mocking mine, Your Majesty?"

You stared at each other in silence, eyes narrowed in challenge. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the fever or the still present heaviness across your body and your head. Or maybe you were just having that much fun in this quiet moment with your not-yet-husband(-but-definitely-eventually-going-to-be). There was a quiver on your lips that his eye immediately dropped to and there was no helping the laughter bubbling beneath your next words. "Walter likes me better anyway."

His eye went wide, mouth just slightly open in the Gilbert equivalent of jaw dropped. You had very genuinely surprised him with that one and it was so very rare to see this man speechless. You took in the expression for just a moment, before rolling away, attempting to muffle the snort that you knew you couldn't stop. He would never let you get far though.

As you buried your face in your pillow, you felt the bed shift as Gilbert lunged for you. Deft fingers and evasive hands grasped you, finding that spot on your side that made you shriek with laughter. He was persistent too, half pinning you down as you yelled his name and reached back to try push him away. Tears leaked from your eyes as he pulled you back towards him, turning you in the circle of his arms, still unrelenting, his face a blur of malicious glee. You gripped his fingers, crying for mercy as he finally stopped. You blinked away tears to stare up at him, hovering over you once again, looking exceptionally pleased with himself, with his grin stretched to face splitting proportions.

Reaching up the cup his cheeks gently, you brushed under his eyes, trailing over the new dark circles and creases there. You felt your chest swell once again with how much affection you had for this man, and with the knowledge of just how precious you were to him. You didn't even need to consider everything - just the look on his face was enough. His eye was sparkling, even in his own shadow, and his smile was softer, sweeter; this expression was the most 'truth' that Gilbert could ever offer you. He said nothing, content to watch and rest his face in your palms, enjoying the light pressure of your fingers moving across his face, down his nose, against his lips. He couldn't help take a little nip, quick and sharp enough to hurt surely, but you didn't even flinch.

"...Thank you, Gil, for taking care of me."

Your tone might have been too sincere, too loaded with everything else you wanted to say but didn't have the words for. Perhaps if your feelings weren't so strong, didn't sometimes make it hard to breathe when you so much as thought of him, it might have been easier for the words to leave your mouth. But as it was, you found them, so many thoughts and feelings clambering to get out, stuck in your throat. Gilbert knew you, better than anyone else (though Mr Akatsuki and Rio would strongly disagree). Gilbert recognised everything you wanted to say, all of it culminating in three tiny little words ("I love you I love you I love you") that you pressed against his lips.

He kissed you short and sweet and you kissed him soft and warm. Again and again, until he hummed and pulled back to smile at you again, brilliant and dazzling and radiant.

idk if this makes sense to anyone else but sometimes canon!MC is a little too puppy-coded for me and i need a more cat-coded interactions (but that might just be me who knows)

gilbert taglist: @scummy-writes

[riveranova]

(A/N): Aaand the second part! <3

IkePri's Sleeping positions! x GN! Reader - Part 2

Warnings:

Characters: Chevalier, Luke, Yves, Jin, Licht, Leon, Ikemen Prince

Word Count: 335

Chevalier Michel

Sleeping schedule worse than Jin's haircut

He's a hugger, 100%

No matter if it's a pillow or a poor, little rabbit

Doesn't sleep much, usually a really light sleeper

We know that he doesn't like to wake up early (slay)

So get ready to get squished to death by him

Luke Randolph

Sleeps everywhere, anytime

Sometimes you wonder if they way he's sleeping ever hurt him

Snores. Snores really loud. You'd think there was a construction side in the garden but suprise! it's just Luke

Head back, arms crossed, legs spread

Ffs, he's taking up the ENTIRE bench

Sleeps like a rock but open a jar of honey and he's awake and ready for duty! (eating the honey)

Yves Kloss

I will not elaborate further.

Jin Grandet

Similar to Luke, but less.. messy?

Manspreads like his life depends on it, too

But doesn't sleep around the palace (he does but that's a different thing-)

Takes up the entire bed, face first into the pillows

Honestly, he looks like he just fell into bed and went ''fuck it, this is how I sleep today''

On top of his covers, sometimes uses them when it's cold or he has uhm... 'guests' over

Licht Klein

Sleeps like a sick victorian child

Completely still in the middle of the bed, covers halfway up his chest and hands folded on top of them

Quiet, not a single sound can be heard, not even breathing

Doesn't turn around, ever

Just sleeps like that, still, unmoving

When you sleep in the same bed, you'll have to curve around him

Leon Dompteur

''I don't have any space, Leon.''

''Me neither.''

Camera cuts to the entire bed

You lay at the edge of your side, almost falling off while Leon hugs you from behind, the entire bed behind him is empty

Will not move, no matter what

Steals blankets just to throw them to the ground

Hugs you like a baby koala, so you don't even need those blankets :)

[cherryxblossxms]

Ikemen Prince Masterlist

🔞 Warning: all things listed below are 18+ 🔞

This is my NSFW masterlist for all things Ikemen Prince. If anything is missing or a link is broken, please let me know!

Gender is indicated beside each link, and list of warnings (if applicable) will be on the post itself. If any links are broken, please let me know and I will update it. If there is no link, it is a WIP to be posted at a later date.

Last updated: 01/01/2025

Chevalier Michel

Heavy petting in the library... (afab reader)

Clavis Lelouch

Dry humping with Clavis (GN reader)

C, D, H, K, R, T, X of the NSFW alphabet

Rio Ortiz

Just the tip... (GN reader)

Silvio Ricci

Using toys on Silvio (GN reader)

Silvio's jewelry during sex (GN reader)

Keith Howell

Masturbation May day 5b - Edging (fem reader, nice!Keith, oneshot)

Breeding kink with the Keiths (afab reader, both Keiths)

Needy, possessive Keith (afab reader)

A, B, E, F, G, H, K, O, P, U of the NSFW alphabet (mean!Keith)

D, I, M, R, V, X of the NSFW alphabet (mean!Keith)

A, C, F, H, I, K, M, O, P, U of the NSFW alphabet (nice!Keith)

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Yearning and Learning

aka 100 ways he shows his love for you: Silvio Ricci

Rating: 18+? (Very brief and non-descript spice ments.)

WC: ~4.7k

Pairing: Silvio Ricci x gn!Reader fiancé(e)

*(There are allusions to his main storyline, & potentially Belle, but feel free to imagine otherwise, or react differently from Emma in past situations. Rearrange hc's at your leisure!)

Warnings: General mentions/spoilers for Silvio's route and event routes (mostly vague), brief and non-descript mentions of spice and aftercare, one mention of future children (no pregnancy ment), one passing mention of alcohol (it's Silvio & Benetoite so uh). Mostly "spoilery" references are of events that take place after the main storyline.

A/N: Please lmk if I missed anything, I wrote this in one go in the middle of the night bc I was in my feels for this man, I am down bad horrendous, truly. I adore his character/arc sm. I am also apparently unable to write anything under 2k, noted.

MDNI with my blog, especially anything specifically labeled as such. Insta-blocked if so.

Silvio always shuddered at your touch, but these days it's lessened. After officially becoming engaged, as long as it wasn't unexpected, he found himself less inclined to pretend he didn't enjoy it. That he didn't fawn internally over every one of your smiles, laughs, hugs, kisses, sighs, and I love yous. He's already let slip multiple times how cute he finds you, how much he respects you and cares for you, and how cute he finds you. Silvio still blushes every time, and shows his affections in awkward and tsun ways at times too; but his actions have always spoken louder, or rather yelled, compared to his words.

Taking on extra work just to finish ahead of time to take you on a date, or travel, or just spend time together. Doting on you when you're sick, tired, stressed, or generally unwell somehow. Carried you everywhere when you sprained an ankle. Called off and rescheduled work to take care of you when you had a fever. Would love you if you were a worm rabbit. Learned to lean into simpler tastes, learned to trust you; something so foreign to the man who believed he didn't even have any friends.

Silvio learned to have a little faith in humanity again after meeting you, after hurting you in his fear and spite, after apologizing and making up for it to win you over again, and still feeling like shit every day for it, wondering why you'd ever "settle" for him. He looks in the mirror some days, noticing how happy he looks, and pauses. Had he ever smiled like that before? Who was this man standing before him?

Makes love to you, explores with you, always focuses on your pleasure, as long as it takes for you to warm up, to feel good, or to make your way from start to finish. For someone with so much experience, but such distaste for others and their ways, he's surprisingly skilled in the ways of doing so, you think. Someone who didn't care as much as he said he did wouldn't have even bothered to pay attention.

He's always respected your consent, boundaries, and stamina, even if he's left hanging. You two didn't even get physical yet for awhile, and not just because work was insanely busy. It was partly due to Silvio giving you space at first, but also because he wanted to give everything time to sink in, to experience and appreciate your love for each other and all you've overcome so far.

Both in and out of bed, he pampers you and treats you like the royalty you'll soon be. Washes your hair, always takes care of you after any physical intimacy, bubble baths, massages, brings you flowers and things he'll think you like, or caves when you ask him for a favor, ridiculous as it may be, just to see you smile at him, knowing that he's the only one who makes you do so that way.

The thought of marriage still feels surreal to him, but he knows he wouldn't want to experience this with anyone else. To have something so fulfilling, so selfless and honest, in ways that have made him hope for the future. He's soon to be king, and you, his royal spouse. More thoughts come unbidden, ones he'd much rather put off, still too much to work through.

Would he be a good parent? Would you? Would he turn out like his father? His mother? Could he truly hold them and love them unconditionally? Or would he get stressed and drink again, trying to hide from his responsibilities? The very thought of doing so goes against his caring nature, repulsing him immediately. A strong sign that even if it's a bit of tough love, he'd still love and protect them the same way he does you.

Every night, when not out at sea, he returns home to you, to your shared room, falling asleep with you in his arms, hearts beating together as you drift off. Sometimes he'll fall asleep first, or wake up first, and wholly take in the sight of you. He might even muse aloud again, and if you're lucky, you might be awake to hear it.

He'd do anything to redo how he was when you'd both met. There's still a lifetime ahead together to make things right, to redeem himself for his past. But deep down, it's himself he has to convince, because you already know how selfless and loving he can be, even with those he's had a complicated past with. Little by little, he's begun to heal, to grow, to be less dependent on the ways he used to escape his reality. He's more present than ever now, and grateful for it.

Silvio swears he's going to go mad from how you consume his every thought. The cliché of wanting to wake up beside you, spend his day working to see you again, to hold you while the land of dreams beckons. He hates how easily you make him blush, fawn, react, and feel. But most importantly, Silvio's a big fat liar. Because he's never hated how much he cares about you, not even a little bit.

[omkookie]

Stepdad!Silvio (short)

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Smut, stepcest, age gap, cheating, PIV, blowjobs

No thoughts, pussy full of Stepdad!Silvio Who's been kinder to you and giving you more attention ever since your mother cheated on him. Perhaps you were the only family he has left now... (Minus that stupid dog)

Stepdad!Silvio Whose hands linger on your body for longer than they should. Subtle touches here and there, hugs, pets, touches at any given chance. Sometimes he argues with you because you go out whenever you want, and you have to remind him on multiple occasions that you're and an adult! since he just won't leave you alone...

You end up having sex with him in the kitchen once, but then feel guilty when you see your mother the next day.

Stepdad!Silvio Who scoffs at you for being naive. You're young. What do you know about the real world? You're his princess and you should stay with him at all times. There's no point in going out without him...

Even though you've had sex once and agreed it won't happen again your Stepdad!Silvio is always with you.

When you drop your book, you obviously bend over and pick it up. Your short skirt hikes up your ass, revealing your panties to your stepfather who's standing just behind you.

Are you teasing him?.. well It's not his fault he can't control himself, and bends you over, plunging his cock into your warm pussy. Obviously, you tempted him! So you have to take responsibility and milk his cock until it's no longer hard.

He uses your cute set of holes, fucking both your mouth and your pussy before he spills his cum onto your face. He then scoops his cum up to bring it to your lips, making sure you don't waste a single drop of it.

He gives you a harsh smack on the ass, even though he's looking at you so softly. "My spoiled little princess" he murmurs as he kisses your ear. You simply nod at him, hugging him closer while he rubs your back

"don't tell anyone about this." You whisper loud enough for him to hear

[whatever-fanfics]

Growing pains

~~~

Tw: Contains children, traumatic past (light mention),

~~~

When you were pregnant with your first child you believed Silvio would be ecstatic. And he was, immediately you were surrounded by caretakers. The best of the best, not only including doctors and midwives, but also the best guards, and guard dogs Rio. He knew you would want to prepare for your baby as soon as possible, so he made all the arrangements of having the room next to you shared one cleared. And cleaned, he didn't want you touching dirt and dust, you're his queen for fucks sake. His pregnant queen. He learned not to underestimate you, pregnant or not, when you two chose out the furniture for the babies room and you asked him to help you rearrange it to your liking. He told you he would do it after his meeting and came back to you pushing a dresser from one end of the room to the other. Why couldn't you wait, he just-you know what never mind! It took him a while but he eventually was able to be on the same page as you. Soon enough when your second baby came around, you knew Silvio would have some reservations on them. He didn't say anything, of course, but he never heeded to not with you. Even as you saw the twisted nerves of his stomach evident on his face along with his knitted eyebrows as your now 5 year old son approached. Wriggling himself down from his uncles arms, to cautiously walking over to the bassinet next to your bed. You all watched, Silvio held his gaze in bated breath. As harsh memories flooded his mind. They swarmed harsh glares and harsher words, misunderstandings and miscommunication. As much as he was content with how he and his brother's relationship was at present. He doesn't want that for his children. He gets startled as his five year old son jumps back in surprise from his brother's newborn cries. Extending his arm to make sure he didn't fall, which the young boy didn't notice as he quickly made his way back over once the cries died down. You all leaned down and looked tentatively as he turned back around, eyes full of stars and wonder, as he whispered, "can I keep him?"

~~~

[archetype-earth]

Rio, who gently smiles in silent understanding.

Ocean-colored eyes wash over your tired form, curled up and bundled under the safety of soft blankets. He doesn't say anything. He simply hugs you, pressing a kiss to your exposed forehead.

If you want one, he'll gladly bring you a drink or food. He's already working his hands all over your body, massaging tense muscles that need a moment to relax. His lips are soft as they press on your eyelids, feather-light.

Anyone or anything is kept away. Stress, distractions, work, other people... He guards your peace, like the loyal guard dog he is.

[etheries1015]

"Oh?" Sariel said amusingly to the cold blonde prince, "I figured you two would get along nicely, seein as (y/n) is the author of one of your favorite books." Chevalier paused, eyes widening slightly in shock before going reverting back to normal cold stare.

"Oh!" You chirped up, "you've read my books? which one is your favorite?" You chuckled excitingly, not getting much of a reaction out of the brutal beast.

"I was not aware you were an author," Chev said, looking at you, "Be that is it may; You do not seem to conduct yourself the way you write." You scrunched your nose together and pursed your lips.

"Ouch," You chuckled, "What a backhanded compliment, thank you."

"Huh?" Luke chimed in with a tilted head, "But when looking into your background your name wasn't anywhere linked to any sort of author," He pointed out, a smile of admiration playing on his features. You shrugged before teasingly responding, "Haven't you heard of a pen name?" Raising an impressed eyebrow, Noktos lips curled up in a sly smile. "Oh? You'll have to tell me what it is, so I can read it myself, I would love to see what our precious Belle can do. Do you have a copy with you?"

Clavis roared out in laughter, pulling a very familiar book from behind his back, handing it over to Nokto. Where had he gotten that? Nobody knows, and never will, I suppose.

"I had already known of your writing endeavors!" He boasted, "Yours truly even took a read. Although, I fear your story lacks a very distinct amount of fun..."

Silvio, who was also listening in, decided to take the liberty of snatching the book out of Noktos hand, asking what only any businessman would ask.

"So...how much of a profit have ya made off of your books?" He studied it dubiously in hand, feeling the grooves of the spine and quality of the pages, "You must be pretty well off if it's considered the 'brutal beasts' favorites." With a haughty smile, he naturally threw in, "If I like it enough, I might even invest in it, if you'll make a deal with me, I'll be sure all of Benetoite knows your name, lady." Sighing slightly you gave him a side glance before rolling your eyes.

"I make enough to be content. what matters is that others enjoy my writing, not how much I make off of it." You replied bluntly. Silvio only scoffed before keith also gave his two cents, holding out his hand for Silvio to hand him your book. With a startled look, his eyes lit up in excitement.

"I've read this book! you wrote it? I'm a huge fan of all of your works, the way you write is so mesmerizing it's difficult to put it down! Would you mind uh- ah..." He stopped himself with a blush tainting his cheeks, "I'm sorry! You must not like being bombarded with all of my questions. I-" You interrupted Keith with a hearty chuckle.

"Don't worry Keith, let's have tea and sweets sometime and you can ask me all you want." You threw a side glance at Chevalier, "You're welcome to join as well, Prince Chevalier." He glanced up from his paperwork in hand only for a mere second, enough for you to understand he heard what you had suggested.

"Ah-" Keith started as Gilberts hand snaked from behind and snatched the book out of his hand, flipping the book to it's back to read the synopsis. He looked up at you with his piercing red eye, his smile unwavering as he tucked the hardcover under his arm.

"A noblewoman writing a book in an alias," He hummed, "I believe any other would like their name to be well known, to bring up their family name and increase the likelihood of their popularity," You froze in place and glanced around the room for an awkward moment, trying to think of some excuse to tell the Obsidianite prince. After a moment of silence, he let out a low giggle, turning on his heel and heading out the door.

"I'm only teasing, little rabbit. Thank you for the book, I sincerely hope you do not disappoint. After all, if he (chev) likes it, surely it must have its merits. I will find you when I'm done, I want to join in on your little tea party to discuss my thoughts as well." You sucked in your breath as he left the room, your pursed lips coming apart with a 'pop!'.

"Well," You chuckled nervously, grabbing the drink Silvio had graced you with and lifting it in the air before downing the contents, "Here's to hoping he likes the book!"

[thefemvoid]

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!^^

[judenostopwaitkeepgoing]

leon gives u this look, whatchu doin ? 👀