#yves kloss reader insert

[pochipop]

＃IKEMEN PRINCE !! ♡ — THE WAY HE LIES (YVES X READER).

#. synopsis! — yves frequents your family owned bakery in the city, and he's such a pretty liar .

#. characters! — yves .

#. warnings! — very slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.6k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — is this really the content anyone wants from me? probably not! but hello ikeseries fandom, i've come to join the tumblr ranks !

There he sits again in one of the worn-out wooden chairs of your family’s bakery, —his hair glistening like little strings of golden sunlight in the dying evening rays. Many moons ago, you’d have been nervous to approach him, smoothing your apron down, dusting flour off yourself haphazardly before making your way over to take his order, minding your posture like a single slump in his presence would have set the world ablaze. These days, you know better. . . Yves may look much too sophisticated to let yourself be true around, but underneath that perfectly polished appearance, there’s a young man much like yourself.

A young man who is also painfully uncertain of it all, who yearns for a place to belong.

With two servings of strawberry mousse in either hand, you place one before him, letting the little ceramic dish clink against the table. His clear, powder blue eyes draw to your face, and he bites back a smile, forcing that same neutral arrogance to remain even as you take a seat across from him.

“Back again, I see,” you grin a bit, shoveling a spoonful of the creamy dessert into your mouth, letting it melt on your tongue.

He hums in acknowledgement, taking his own spoon between his fingers to gracefully scoop an appropriate sized bite from the top.

“I had some business to attend to in town,” he replies evenly, pausing to taste the mousse, and then to swallow it down. “I’m sure I missed dinner at the castle and was feeling pekish on the journey back.”

You know he’s lying, but you don’t ask why. You never ask why he’s often so dishonest; both with himself and others. . . It’s easier to assume that Yves has his reasons and to leave it at that.

“I trust everything went well enough then?” You inquire.

His eyebrow raises in confusion, and you’re quick to clarify: “With the business you mentioned having in town, that is.”

If you hadn’t been sure he was lying before, you certainly were after seeing his face drop for a moment as he realized he’d slipped up in his charade.

“Oh, —yes,” he answers, giving a quick, unconvincing nod. “All’s well, thank you. And I assume business today went smoothly as well?”

“As smoothly as it can go, I suppose,” you laugh, —and ah. . . There’s that funny feeling again, the one Yves has been having in his chest as of late.

The kind that mimics a dastardly mixture of palpitations and the fluttering of insect wings.

He’d really like to fix this. There’s gotta be a way to pass this over, let these feelings pass him by, —because this can’t, won’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t ever work, and he knows it. You live in a world so completely different to his own; one that isn’t tainted by royal politics and all the gossip of bordering kingdoms that always lingers around the corners, threatening to swallow him whole. There’s no place for love when it comes to people like him. Not when any compassion you could ever show him would only prove to marr your reputation. It’s why he never picks the seat by the largest window anymore, why he only comes here when the shop is about to close, and why he’s never allowed himself to sit with you without telling a lie.

So yeah. . . Maybe it is for the best that you never ask why he isn’t as honest as he could be when it comes to you. Or to anyone else. 

“You seem a little down today,” you comment. “Is everything really okay?”

It’s just the way his frown seems deeper, and the way his brows seem so set in their furrow. He never looks outwardly happy as far as you’ve ever see of him, but usually there’s little flecks of joy that swim through his eyes, whether it’s over the sweets, or the peacefulness of the establishment, or over the way you smile at him so reassuringly, as if flashing one at him for just a second should be enough to soothe his deepest hurts.

His expression drops for a moment, like he’s surprised you were paying enough attention to notice the smaller details of his sour mood. Yves does his best to wear his heart beneath his sleeve, keep it hidden away, but you. . . He fears you see him for exactly who he is, and the thought of it terrifies him. Nobody should have to see that.

“Everything’s fine,” he nods after a few moments of silence. “The mousse is quite good today. Did you make it yourself?”

You fear the compliment is little more than a distraction, a way to change the topic without having to dwell on the previous one. But that’s okay.

“Mhm,” you nod. “Just a few hours ago, actually. We’ve been tweaking the recipe a bit as of late, and I think this might be the best one so far.”

“I agree. The sweetness is balanced with the slightly tart flavor of the fresh strawberries on top, and the texture is so decadent and creamy,” he answers, words emphasized by the spoonful he ushers into his mouth much less elegantly than before.

Something about it makes you smile. Sure, he’s a liar, but his eyes are so honest, and you can always tell what he really wants to say when you read between the lines. You imagine it must be hard to be a prince in such a small kingdom. . . To have so many eyes on you at all times, to be judged both at your strongest and weakest points. The riches of it all must be nice, and that’s all well and good, —but there’s so obviously a price to pay for living under that kind of scrutiny. You can’t help but wonder if Yves ever stops to let it all wash over him, or if he goes about each day pretending to be alright for everyone else’s sake.

At the very least, you hope he feels comfortable being himself here, with you. 

“I’m glad you think so.”

Silence falls between you for a bit. The sound of horse drawn carriages padding over the gravel outside and the soft clinks of your spoons against the little ceramic bowls echo in a playful chorus.

You’re happy he stopped by today.

“There’s some leftover honey cake, if you’d like to take it back with you,” you note. “I know you took a slice to go the first time you came in, and you mentioned your brother was a fan of the flavor.”

He blinks, lips parting slightly, as if he just can’t believe you cared enough to remember an interaction from so long ago. It makes him wonder what else you’d be able to recall about him, and he looks down at the strawberry mousse sitting on the table (though it’s mostly eaten by now.)

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he answers, voice softer than before.

Yves tacks on a quiet ‘thank you,’ to which you offer him another smile. He wishes he could see that everyday, feel the way it lights him up from the inside. . . But that’s a fool’s game to play, and Yves is no court jester. He’s a prince, —a cowardly one, and he’s not the kind of man you deserve. He’s not the kind of man anyone should truly care for.

“It’s no trouble at all,” you answer. “You’ve been very generous to myself and my family’s bakery. . . Really, it’s the least I can do. I’m afraid I’m not sure how else to repay the kindness.”

Perish the thought, honestly. He’d do anything just to see you every now and again, to reach out and remind himself that not everyone in this kingdom thinks him to be some kind of humanized betrayal. You look at him with such kindness in your eyes, and it’s a welcome change from the harsh, judgemental stares he often receives on his way anywhere at all. At least with you, he feels content; like there’s no shackles keeping him glued to a place of constant scrutiny.

You see him as he is, —and you ignore everything he isn’t. And he loves you for it.

You pack up two slices of the honey cake, thinking maybe if he really hadn’t eaten that much today, he’d be able to enjoy it at some point or another. As you hand the little box over, you don’t bother to insist he keep his coins in his pocket. He’s already fumbling around in his pockets for payment likely double that of the actual price.

“We’ll have macarons on sale this weekend, if you’d be interested in stopping by,” you smile, handing him the box of honey cake slices. “I can save you some.”

Even if he didn’t want them, (which he most certainly did), he would have accepted your offer anyway. If it means he has a valid excuse to come see you for a bit, then count Yves in without question.

“I’d like that,” he answers, his fingers brushing oh so gently against your own as he takes the box from your hands. 

You swore you could see the faintest smile pull at his lips, but it was gone before you could be certain of it.

The time comes once again for him to leave, and you watch him go with a newfound longing. From the window of the bakery, you watch as his lean frame eventually turns the closest corner, and he disappears for the time being. . . He’ll be back soon enough, you’re sure, but a part of you always hates to see him go.

Maybe one day he won’t have to, but for now, you resign yourself to closing shop, the thought of him dancing around in your head.

[aquagirl1978]

Pink- Yves Kloss x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of Visions of Temptations 2023 hosted by @xxsycamore

Pairing: Yves Kloss x Reader

Prompt: Day - Pegging

Word Count: 891

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNi; pegging; praise kink; anal plug; toy insertion; handjob; female-bodied reader (no pronouns used)

“What's this?” you asked, your fingers touching something cool and hard. 

“Oh! I, um…” Yves cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink, flustered by your discovery.  “I wanted to prepare myself and surprise you. I think tonight…”

You couldn’t remember who suggested it first, but it was something you were both interested in; however, you agreed this was something you wanted to ease into and had started by experimenting with some toys. 

Many weeks were spent exploring with various, different sized toys, slowly training Yves’ body to handle the size of your strapon. Week by week, you increased the size of the toys, with you both enjoying this long and pleasurable journey. 

Overwhelmed with excitement, you quickly wriggled out from under Yves’ lithe body. Eager to see this surprise, you kneeled behind him as he propped himself on his hands and knees. Spreading his soft and supple cheeks, you were beyond delighted to find a pink jeweled plug nestled in his hole. What a beautiful sight to behold.

“How long have you been wearing this?” you asked, your finger tracing the soft lines of the pink gemstone, enjoying how Yves’ flinched under your gentle touch.

“Every day this week.”

You huffed out a small puff of laughter. “I meant, how long today?”

Yves groaned and buried his head in the pillow beneath him. “A few hours,” he squeaked out as you twisted the gem with your fingertips.

Curious to know its size, you slowly began to pull the plug out. Without fully removing it, you were shocked by its length and girth. Just thinking of how your lover had been sitting through dinner earlier, his hole stuffed with this plug, drove you wild.

“Wanna get your strapon?” Yves mumbled into his silk pillow.

He didn't have to ask twice.

*****

Yves' body was a sight too beautiful to behold. His ass high up in the air, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bed, his face flush against the pink pillow beneath him. Warmth flooded your core as you approached your lover, bare naked save for the pink dildo strapped between your legs. 

Vulnerable and exposed, plug still inside, you took a moment to appreciate all the hard work Yves put in to get here. The training. And stretching. And preparing. You only wished you could have done it all together.

You gently pulled on the pink jewel; twisting it at first, it took a few tugs to remove it, he was clenching it so tight. He whined as you fully withdrew it, marveling over the sheer size of the plug. 

“You like this…” you muttered as you pushed the plug back in, noticing how his hips rocked back and forth to meet your movements.

“So what if I do,” he managed to reply between grunts. Increasing your pace, you began to thrust the plug, twisting it while inside to help prepare him for what was to come.

With a loud plop, you fully removed the plug, your chest filling with pride as you marveled at its size. You reached for the glass bottle on the nightstand you brought over earlier, and removed its lid. The liquid was cool as you poured a generous amount onto your fingers. 

“You’re doing so good, my love,” you praised as you slipped two fingers into his hole, pumping your fingers a few times to make sure he was well coated. 

After removing your fingers, you picked up the bottle again, this time coating your dildo with the cool liquid. Once it was slick enough to shine in the moonlight, you put the bottle away.

Taking a deep breath, you held the dildo in one hand as you guided the tip along Yves’ entrance, probing his pretty pink bud; Yves let out a loud gasp as you slowly pushed inside his walls.

With your hands on his hips, you rocked yours gently against his, keeping your movements slow as you began to thrust inside. Your fingers pressed into his pale skin, pulling him closer to you, pushing him onto your cock.

“Such a good boy,” you whispered when you bottomed out. Your gaze drifted, focusing on where your hips now touched as warm tingles spread throughout your body. You patted his bottom with your palm, so pleased he was able to take your full length. 

Impressed, you slowly dragged your cock out, enjoying the beautiful whimper Yves let out as you roughly slammed your hips against his. You continued this pace, with one hand wrapped around his cock, feeling it stiffen as you impaled him with your cock.

Soft cries filled the air as you squeezed Yves’ shaft. “You look so good filled with my cock,” you cooed as you felt a drop of precum bead on the tip of his cock. 

“Cum for me, baby,” you coaxed, your hand pumping his cock faster, your bodies slamming against each other with each hard thrust. Yves let out a delicious groan, a tear trickled down his cheek as his cock tensed in your hand, his body trembling under yours, his bedsheets painted a milky-shade of white.

You withdrew your length from Yves, and gently guided him to roll over onto his back. After removing your strapon, you returned to his side, cradling him in your arms, stroking his soft hair as he drifted off to sleep.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @scummy-writes

[thot-writes]

this has been bouncing around in my head all night i just gotta write it down

how the ikepri boys react when u catch them from falling;

Yves Kloss;

you’re casual acquaintances. technically he’s your employer as you’re one of the maids in the palace but he never really treats you that way (which you appreciate)

you’re extremely competent in your work. you always manage to have the right things at the right time, and your sense of duty is almost frightening. somehow, somewhere, you always know what is need and when precisely that is.

one afternoon Yves is climbing up the steps to the palace. his mind is elsewhere, and he accidentally misses one of them, throwing him off-balance and plummeting backwards

he curses under his breath at his own thoughtlessness. a prince falling down his own stairs?! he closes his eyes in anticipation for the impact but in its place he feels softness, as a pair of capable arms envelop him and hold him steady

“Master Yves, are you alright?” comes your ever-pleasant voice. once again you have mysteriously appeared to save the day, thank the gods for you!

but when he looks up at you it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. your beauty stuns him silent, the setting sun is positioned perfectly behind your head giving you the appearance of a halo. you look worriedly at him, and his gaze is drawn to your intense eyes then down to your beautiful lips

he doesn’t hear you when you try to talk to him again, instead all he can hear is violins and flutes in his mind playing a romantic ballad. has he perhaps gone mad due to his near-death experience? or did he actually die and get transported to heaven?

eventually he shakes himself out of his reverie. he becomes painfully aware of his rapid heart rate and his blushing cheeks

“I-I’m fine, thank you Miss [Name]!” he almost yells as he gets to his feet. “I meant to do that anyway!”

“You meant to fall?” you lightly tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips. his heart pounds painfully. “Sorry, Master Yves. Next time I shall endeavour to let you tumble down the steps.”

“Good!” he huffs as he turns his back to you, speed walking up the rest of the stairs. “That is all! Back to your duties, if you please!”

he doesn’t see the nod you give him, he’s far too busy trying to run away from the situation. he meant to do that? how embarrassing! why did he say that?! and why was he getting so worked up about you holding him like that? it was like he was a princess in a romance novel!

he’s not a princess, damn it! he’s a prince! and a powerful one, too!

as much as he tries to rationalise his feelings away, poor Yves finds himself plagued with repetitive dreams of being a damsel in distress and you his valiant knight that comes to the rescue every time. perhaps it is more accurate to the truth than he cares to admit.

Nokto Klein;

you’re the bodyguard/valet of a powerful merchant lord. while you were born in the slums as a peasant, through your diligence and strength you worked your way up in the world.

Nokto often sees you at parties, your boss is a man who always wants to know everything and suffers from severe FOMO, so he attends as many soirées and events as he possibly can. you, being his most trusted companion, always accompany him.

seeing an armed and armoured woman at a party is deeply amusing to him, so he sometimes found himself drifting over to you to try and tease you.

it never works. you’re a master of keeping a stoic face, and you can hold your liquor better than most drunkards, so you pose a big challenge for him.

that’s fine though, he’s not a quitter when it comes to bedding beautiful women— he always gets what he wants. honestly, if he could just get you to smile, or look something other than vaguely pissed, he’d count that as a success.

he challenged you to a drinking contest, since your pride is well-known throughout Rhodolite, and much to his delight you agreed.

by the time he realised he stood no chance against you, he was too drunk to care.

“[Name], my dear, it seems we’ll need to continue this elsewhere. Somewhere more… private, perhaps?” Nokto was still surprisingly smooth despite having drunk enough to down an ox. he lingers far too closely to you, just an inch away from kissing your ear.

it would fluster a lesser person. but you’re unfazed. you eye him neutrally. “Yes. You seem in dire need of a nap, Prince Nokto.”

he casually waves you off as he begins to walk away. “Nonsense. You’ll find it takes more than a few drinks to—“

he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his legs surreptitiously decide to give out and he trips. he hears you call out to him before you catch him in your arms.

instinctively he rests his hands on your biceps. they’re quite… hard, aren’t they? his eyes widen in shock as he realises what’s just happened, and perhaps it’s the drink influencing him but he could’ve sworn his heart just skipped a beat.

he composes himself quickly and his shocked expression melts into a lecherous smirk. “Oh my, how gallant. You’ll make me blush if you keep holding me like this, [Name].”

the last thing he remembers is a small smile on your face. then, he wakes up in his room with a pounding headache and an uncharacteristically empty bed.

as the memories slowly return to him about what happened that night (you had helped him into a carriage and the servants took him to bed) he finds himself extremely disappointed that he failed to bag you yet again.

“Ah well,” he says to no one in particular, “next time.”

at least he got you to smile.

Clavis Lelouch;

you’re a bartender and a semi-close associate of Jin’s. while you’ve never expressed interest in becoming one of his partners, you’ve been his wingwoman on more than one occasion.

Clavis likes to stir trouble more than he likes to sleep around, but he always enjoys a good glass of scotch and a conversation with his dear half-brother Jin. your establishment is one of his regular hunting grounds (or did he say watering grounds? he can’t remember) so tonight he invited Clavis along for the ride

Jin took his regular spot at the bar and Clavis took the seat next to him. when you asked Jin about the new face, he introduced you two, and to say Clavis was intrigued by your good looks would be an understatement

for a time the three of you were locked into conversation, though you’d occasionally dip out to serve another customer, and Clavis was starting to see why his brother liked this place so much… although maybe for different reasons

he was so absorbed in shooting the shit with you that he didn’t notice when Jin (so rudely!) abandoned him for a small group of women.

it didn’t bother him too much though, he was having plenty of fun getting to know a kindred spirit like you

you talked, and talked, and talked and Clavis understood why you were a bartender. a big part of the job is chatting to the customers, and you did a damn good job of keeping a conversation going

when he finished his fourth glass of scotch and his head was starting to swim, he figured he’d had enough for the night

“Well, [Name], thank you for keeping me company after my dastardly brother deserted me, but I should be going back now,” he said with a pleasant grin on his face.

“Back to that big fancy palace of yours, huh? Must be nice… all I’ve got waiting for me is an overpriced shoe-box and shitty neighbours.”

Clavis chuckles. “Is this your way of trying to get me to invite you over, bartender?”

he half-expects you to get flustered, instead you smirk. “You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think you can handle me. Maybe ask me again in a few more years, sweet thing.”

sweet thing. the way the nickname so effortlessly comes from your mouth is enough to make him do a double-take. should he be offended by it? is it normal that instead he feels flattered… maybe even a little bit giddy?

it takes him a second longer than usual to formulate a reply, but before he can he’s wrenched from his thoughts by a drunken patron shouldering past him.

he expects to unceremoniously collide with the floor but instead he finds himself cradled in your arms. your breasts are in his face but you’re too busy scolding the other man to notice.

all Clavis can do is focus on your chest. your soft… exquisite chest… are all tits as sexy as yours? he can see why Jin is so obsessed with women if so.

you pull back and he’s met with the almost-as-attractive image of your face as you check over him.

“You okay? He didn’t wrinkle your clothes did he, sweet thing?”

that nickname again. damn it, first you shove your tits in his face and now you’re calling him that. there’s only so much a man can take!

he shoves the feelings down and dons his usual facade. “Oh, I’ll need a maid to iron them out but I’ll live. Barely.”

you laugh and help him to his feet. you say your goodbyes and he returns to the palace, but when he finds Jin the next day he asks to accompany him the next time he decides to visit your bar

Leon Dompteur;

you are an established noblewoman who took over your father’s house and increased its wealth and standing tenfold. you’re known as a charming, philanthropic individual and are quite well-loved among nobles and commoners alike.

you’re holding a charity event and invited Leon to attend, which of course he accepted. it wasn’t really the scene his brothers tended to frequent, so he went it alone.

he even arrived early to help you set up! what a doll!

you’d put together confectionary stalls, games, and musical performances where a chunk of the profits would go towards building a new orphanage.

Leon was surrounded by a small gaggle of kids that seemed to worship the ground he walked on, and he very patiently answered each and every one of their endless questions.

“Mister Leon, Mister Leon!” a girl no more than the age of nine calls out. “My momma said that you and lady [Name] make a cute couple! Are you her wife?”

Leon jolts back and laughs nervously. people seem to like the idea of you and him becoming a couple, since you’re both gorgeous, charismatic, and selfless, but it’s not often that he’s confronted with it so directly.

“No, no, Lady [Name] and I are just friends,” he tells her, much to the children’s disappointment. “What’s more, I’m a man, so if I was married I would be the husband.”

“Huh? Why can’t men be a wife?” a boy complains. “That’s not fair!”

you’ve been drifting over to the group since you heard the sound of your name, and much to your amusement Leon is trying (and failing) to explain to kids how gender roles work.

as you get close another boy tugs at your clothes to grab your attention. “Miss [Name], why can’t boys be wifes? My daddy said wifes are good and nice and I want to be good and nice! Why is Leon not your wife Miss [Name]?”

“Those are good questions, kiddo!” you say, and to Leon’s dismay you look up at him with a grin. “Why can’t boys be wives, Leon? Are you saying you wouldn’t like to be my wife?”

the children all agree with you and continue to pester Leon, and he finds it hard to fight the rising blush on his face. desperate for a way out, he spots an older woman struggling to carry a crate of goods and excuses himself.

“Ma’am, would you like some help with that?” he asks, eager to be anywhere but here.

she smiles at him gratefully. “Oh yes please Your Majesty, that would be a great help!”

he picks up the crate with ease, but the sound of pestering little kids picks up behind him and an unexpected weight latches onto his leg.

he tips, and he tries to angle his body so it won’t land on the (assumed) child but it’s of ill use. all he can do is shout “Watch out!” as he prepares to crash, instinctively squeezing his eyes shut.

but there is no crash. he doesn’t collide with the cobblestone, and there is no deafening sound of wood clattering on the ground. he opens his eyes to see you leaning over him.

one of your arms is wrapped around his shoulders, the other is holding the crate above both your heads. if he wasn’t flustered before he sure is now.

“Prince Leon, are you hurt?” you ask. “I’m so sorry, that was my fault. I got the kids all stirred up then they ran off before I could catch them!”

his amber eyes are locked on yours. he can’t tear them away, even for a second. it’s like no one else exists except you and him. “It’s… okay…” he says finally. “I’m fine. Thank you, Lady [Name]. I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing.”

you shake your head and let the crate down before hauling him up. “Not at all. Kids can be a handful.”

he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

he grabs the crate once again and this time, carefully watches his steps as he carries it off. as the children watch him walk away, one of them mumbles to another, “He’s definitely her wife.”

Chevalier Michel;

you’re a soldier in Chevalier’s command, and in fact you are one of the best. that you’re a woman never mattered in his eyes, you were worth a dozen regular soldiers and he has always treated you as an equal.

he likes to run training camps to simulate real war conditions even during times of peace. you never know when someone (*cough* Obsidian) might strike, so it’s good to always be prepared

he emerges from his tent to watch over the troops sparring with each other. if he finds a weakness in their stance, he’ll bark at them to correct it. his demeanour is icy and strict, but he always knows what needs to be done so his judgement is rarely questioned.

you have finished your training for the day (immaculate as always. he never seems to find a fault with you nowadays, much to the chagrin of your fellow soldiers) and you’re busying yourself by running errands

you’re the only woman in Chevalier’s troops, and while women soldiers definitely exist, not many of them (or anyone, really) can handle being under the draconian command of a genius

at first when the men harassed you, Chevalier would make a show of telling them the dangers of underestimating someone. he didn’t need to do that for long though, because they soon learned that lesson directly from you.

he makes eye contact with the back of your head as he sees you tending to the horses, and remembers a battle tactic he wanted to go through with you. he makes a beeline for you, but halfway there he hears a yell and a rope snapping. you instantly turn towards the direction of the noise

one of the soldiers had startled a horse bad enough that it broke free and tried to run through the camp— it had happened fast enough that Chevalier had little time to react

he managed to get out of trampling range, but the wind is knocked out of him and he fumbles for balance

“Prince Chevalier!” he hears, though he’s not sure from who. probably multiple troops who are shitting their britches at the prospect of angering him.

he tries to break his fall, but instead he’s caught. the shocked gasps of his men and the struggles of the horse getting reined in hit his ears, but all he can focus on is the woman whose arms he lies in.

one of your hands is firmly gripping the dip in his waist and the other cups his head. “That was a close one!” you exclaim. “The ground is pretty much frozen this time of year, if you hit that you could’ve gotten a concussion!”

he blinks up at you. why does this feel so… weirdly comfortable? he chooses not to linger on it. “You’re right. I appreciate your quick timing, [Name].”

he gets up and dusts himself off, trying to ignore the unpleasant absence of your warmth. he turns around and glares at the camp. “Now… who was the one stupid enough to scare the horse?”

the silence is deafening.

[syneilesis]

Fic Masterlist & other things

Hello! You can call me Archi or Syn. On rare occasions, I write fic. This sideblog is for fic-related stuff, but I also reblog pretty images and words for inspiration – plus other things. This blog is mostly for myself, but if you've read any of my fic from ao3 and/or here, come say hi! I love reading fic comments :) I'm just here to have fun and have a space stress-free lol. I'm an adult, so some of my posts and reblogs may contain mature/explicit/dark content. Please read at your own risk.

A lot of my fics are reader-inserts, and since the fandoms I write for so far are otome games, the reader may double as the main character too. There are also times when I write for canon characters.

Arranged according to fandom, fic type (i.e., one-shot vs multi), posting date.

The Boy Next Door

10:47 PM | Eun Jeongwan x Main Character (Reader), E

Eun Jeongwan spends the night in your place. What happens then is hardly surprising.

Haikyuu!!

samurai AU vignette | Oikawa Tooru x Reader, T

“Whenever he comes by, I’ll take care of him. Just do your job,” your mother had instructed.

Ikemen Genjiden

—scene from a bedroom | Kitsuji Sueharu x afab!Reader, E

You and Sueharu, tangled in the dim-lit room.

Not on my shift | Kitsuji Sueharu x Reader, T

Your one and only job description is to protect Sueharu. Sueharu, however, wants to add a couple more.

waxing poetic about Sueharu's exposed chest | Kitsuji Sueharu x Reader, G

"My eye is up here."

A Summer Affair | Kitsuji Sueharu x f!Reader, E

Or: five encounters with the man who calls you ohime-sama.

Royalty AU | Kitsuji Sueharu x Reader, G

"If you want me not to overwork, you have to listen to me."

Ikemen Prince

Bookbound | Chevalier Michel x Emma, T

Without their realizing it, Emma and Prince Chevalier have formed a book club.

anticatharsis | Chevalier Michel, gen

Five times Prince Chevalier should have felt something, but hadn't.

paralepsis | Chevalier Michel, gen

Twenty facts about Chevalier Michel.

Grading papers | Chevalier Michel x Reader, T, Cybird University verse

Home slippers on, you pad towards the living room to discover Chevalier on the couch, reading glasses on, a paper on his hand and a stack of the same beside him, wearing the most remarkable frown you have ever seen in the entire time you’ve known him.

Barista!Yves and Customer!Emma vignette | Yves Kloss x Emma, G

She has her hair tied up today, Yves thinks. Now with a shiny sequel!

The Masked Villain | Clavis Lelouch, gen

Clavis is Tuxedo Mask. Crackfic.

Before the Dawn | Chevalier Michel x Reader, G

The Number One Hero knows your address. That's bad news.

Where Does Such Tenderness Come From | Clavis Lelouch x f!Reader, G

In another universe, you were Belle, and you fell in love with a prince. And nothing came of it.

Let It Stand | Chevalier Michel x Emma, T, work in progress

Emma gets a new editor. This editor doesn’t like her that much.

one | two | three

Ikemen Sengoku

i bruise my hands on the living cage | Kicho x MC!Reader, M

Ambition is greater than love.

Split Custody | Team Azuchi + Kicho, G

And you say, “So be it. Divorce it is.”

Art Appreciation | Naoe Kanetsugu x MC!Reader, G

“No –” and you sound so smug at this “– appreciating a work of art.”

Staff Evaluation | Kicho x Reader, G, Cybird University Verse

“Please tell me you’re not planning an uprising,” you say as you open your office door and find Kicho brewing coffee from the coffee maker—comfortably like he owns the place.

a quiet glow | Naoe Kanetsugu x MC!Reader, G

You, Kanetsugu, and fireflies.

blood,steel,oath | Naoe Kanetsugu x f!Reader, T

There's a rebellion happening, and your knight protects you.

The Captain Does Not Go Down with the Ship | Mouri Motonari x Reader, T

You try your best to stop the Imperial Army from capturing your captain.

Ikemen Vampire

hold your heavenly place | Comte de Saint-Germain x MC!Reader, T

It starts with two words. Now with Comte POV sequel.

Nothing But Destinations | Arthur Conan Doyle x Main Character, T

We are living in our own world, just the two of us.

ekphrastic for the mad king | Vlad x MC!Reader, T

a portrait of a delusional monarch

In this Floating World | Vlad x MC!Reader, Arthur Conan Doyle x MC!Reader, Osamu Dazai x MC!Reader, M

Three men, through love and despair.

From Her Mouth of Strawberry | Vlad x MC!Reader, M

An epilogue of Vlad’s Romantic Ending route. With art.

Glimpses of eternity | Vlad x Comte de Saint-Germain, G

Vlad and his pure smile, and Comte, throughout their lives.

A Victorious Conquest | Arthur Conan Doyle x f!Reader, G

You're alone in a pub, and a gorgeous man approaches you.

no end to promises | Vlad x f!Reader, T

Throughout his waking life there is only one for him, and it is you.

There is No Heaven | Vlad x Comte de Saint-Germain, T

The mansion remembers your longing. Your memories become ghosts living in its walls.

Floriography | Vlad x Reader, G, Cybird University Verse

By next week, and the several following, Vlad gives you flowers.

the soul is nothing more than a glass of ocean water | Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader, T (for now), work in progress

It's your first time meeting Comte; Comte disagrees.

prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | epilogue

Love and Deepspace

Coffee Break | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x MC!Reader, G

You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.

if only for a moment | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x MC!Reader, T

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

Faded Like Memory | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x MC!Reader, G

He chose this path to find you.

the loudest song | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x MC!Reader, M

You're beautiful in the dimly lit chamber, and a storm surges inside him.

Pampertime | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x MC!Reader, E

The bunny butler outfit makes a grand return. In bed.

Oral Recitation | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x MC!Reader, E

Direct continuation of Pampertime. It's Xavier's turn to indulge this time.

After Dark | Sylus (Qin Che) x MC!Reader, E

Sylus eats you out.

Vampire!Sylus vignette | Sylus (Qin Che) x MC!Reader, M

Vampire AU featuring Sylus and erotic handholding.

drowning, and more drowning | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x MC!Reader, T

All their lives, devotion is the only lesson that endures.

Shinsengumi Wasurenagusa

as one spring piles upon another | Okita Souji x MC!Reader, T

Okita Souji, and the letter that he will never answer.

Touken Ranbu

forget not the spring | Kashuu Kiyomitsu x Saniwa!Reader, G

Five variations of the same question. Or: longing in five glimpses.

What in Hell is Bad?

untitled gabriel/reader fic | Gabriel x MC!Reader, M

At last, Gabriel is at your mercy.

Who Made Me a Princess

Bilateral Agreement | Lucas x Athanasia de Alger Obelia, T

There’s a foreign prince visiting Obelia, and Lucas doesn’t like him one bit. Also, there’s a threat of assassination, but that’s not at all important.

Miscellaneous:

Fic concepts/imagines

Some ideas for fic that I'm interested in but won't write (probably):

Ikemen Prince novelist!Chevalier AU

Ikemen Prince coffee shop AU

Ikemen Sengoku Three Thousand Years of Longing AU ft. Oda Nobunaga

Haikyuu!! secret agent AU ft. Miya Atsumu

Obey Me! rom-com AU ft. Satan

Touken Ranbu Mikazuki Munechika x Saniwa!Reader historical distortion

Jujutsu Kaisen ghost and friends ft. Okkotsu Yuuta

Ikemen Sengoku Groundhog day AU time loop

Ikemen Prince office AU + R18 drama cd voice actor AU ft. Silvio Ricci

Drama CD stuff

Ikemen Series voice actors doing R18 drama CD masterlist