#yves kloss x reader

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 talkedand 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.