globalrebrand - Tumblr blog

[globalrebrand]

This is everything I wanted it to be 😭 💜 ✨

From the Ashes | Part One

Mei Mei x f!Reader

summary: Mei Mei arrives at your uncle's estate as a con woman. She leaves it as your savior.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, angst with a happy ending, historical (1920s) au, gothic romance, total rip-off of park chan-wook's masterpiece the handmaiden, con woman!mei mei, sexually and emotionally repressed reader, reader seems to be losing it a little at times, mentioned suicide, minor references to early 20th century japanese politics and colonization (for the history nerds)

words: 3k

notes: after two years, we're finally here! go watch the handmaiden if you've never seen it. it's maybe one of the most romantic movies of all time.

series masterlist

Before deciding to take on a job, Mei Mei always makes sure that she knows everything she possibly can about a potential mark. She learns their history, their routines, their likes and dislikes, as well as what skeletons are hidden away in their closets.

She bribes maids and chauffeurs and everyone else working in service who are treated as if they’re invisible. She digs into every record she can access through any means necessary. Whatever it takes to uncover every dirty secret the mark in question is hiding, she does. 

It’s only when she’s sure that she’s left no stone unturned that she decides whether or not to go through with the job.

So, when word reaches her about the pretty little heiress sitting on top of a massive fortune, she finds herself intrigued and begins her discovery process. The picture that begins to form as she does so isn’t anything that she finds all that surprising or interesting. 

You were orphaned at a young age and put in the care of your aunt and uncle. Your aunt died only a few years later, leaving your uncle behind as your sole guardian. From what she can gather, your life has been a sheltered one, as is usual for a woman of your status. You don’t seem to have many — if any — friends. The only people you spend any significant amount of time with are the staff working on your uncle’s estate and the man himself. 

She’s almost certain that the remote location of the estate, which is nestled deep in the countryside, only contributes to the isolation. But it leaves her with a problem. With so few people who interact with you on a regular basis, she’s left with fewer sources of information than she would like. 

However, what she is able to do is intimately familiarize herself with the terms of your inheritance. To inherit, you must marry and until you do, your entire fortune is locked away in a trust. The only funds accessible are the generous annual allowance provided to your guardian — your uncle. 

Your inheritance is large enough that she decides to move forward with her con despite the gaps in her research on you. After all, big risks warrant big rewards.

So, she turns her time and energy into crafting her plan: under the guise of a lesser noblewoman, she’ll earn your uncle’s attention and an invitation to his lavish estate. Once she’s there, she’ll prey on your innocence and naivete, seducing you until she can sneak you away in the middle of the night and marry you, only to then cash out your inheritance and do away with you. 

And then she’ll laugh without looking back as she makes off with your entire fortune. 

When the time comes to put her plan into action, the first part goes as smoothly as she anticipated. Your uncle makes regular trips to Tokyo for business and Mei Mei ensures that when he does, they cross paths. Japan’s imperial ambitions in the region and colonization of Korea have only benefited the man’s financial status over the years, yet he’s still always looking for ways to grow his obscene amount of wealth. 

All it takes are a few vague allusions to her being interested in both a new investment opportunity and a new husband for him to take the bait and she’s secured herself an open invitation to his estate to stay for as long as she desires.

She arrives in the countryside and at your uncle’s manor a week later and finds herself thankful that the car that was sent for her has a small glass window that separates the backseat from the driver. The partition allows her a moment to herself to scoff at the sight of the large house, which consists of two massive wings — one in the traditional Japanese style of wood and paper, and the other a Western-style multistory building of brick and stone. 

The house reflects the country’s vast and hurried ambitions to Westernize over the past fifty years. Mei Mei has no fondness for tradition. But likewise, she looks equally down upon the uncritical admirers of the West. Everything she detests about the men who have led this country through the past two eras can be represented by this monstrosity of a house.

Of course, when the car comes to a stop in front of the entrance, she makes sure that it’s the awed noblewoman who greets your uncle and not the derisive criminal. The staff are lined up in two neat rows to welcome her, and standing right in front of them is you. And you’re everything that she’s pictured. 

You’re prim and proper, your posture perfectly straight and your head respectfully tilted down. Your outfit is fashionable and undoubtedly expensive, but also much more conservative than what’s being worn in Tokyo. Yet when your uncle introduces the two of you and you lift your chin, it’s all she can do to keep a delicate eyebrow from quirking. 

Because where she’s expecting to find a shy, innocent, and naive flower that's ripe for picking, she instead finds a cold, sharp ice princess looking back at her in return.

All you offer is a polite bow and a courteous, “It’s nice to meet you, Mei-san.” 

However, it’s more than enough to pique her interest, leaving her curious about what lies hidden beneath your thick, hardened exterior.

And just as she’s planned, Mei Mei has ample time to find out. While she does have to spend her evenings with your uncle, entertaining his pathetic flirtations and dreams of acquiring her fictional fortune, business occupies his days, meaning that she can fill hers with you. 

The two of you share tea in the sitting room and afternoon walks through the estate’s sprawling grounds. You sit alongside one another and read in the library. She watches as you sketch in a book beneath the towering sakura tree in the garden, although she hasn’t been able to catch a glimpse of what fills its pages.

As she spends more time with you, she begins to take notice of how your hands are always clothed in a pair of gloves that never extend past your wrists. The gloves are rarely ever the same set — sometimes they’re silk with a lace cuff, sometimes a rich leather that creaks with every absent movement of a finger, sometimes they’re the same shade as your skin tone and don’t stand out at all. 

There’s something about the way that she never sees you without them that makes her think they’re more than a mere fashion accessory, but she can’t say for certain what the reason could be. 

Your uncle encourages her to get to know you better, telling her that he hopes she can soften you with a woman’s touch. One night, with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a cigarette perched between two fingers, he mentions that it’s something that you’ve been without since you were young and your aunt tragically took her own life. 

“There’s a touch of madness that runs in that family. My late wife suffered from it and I’ve spent all these years wondering whether my niece escaped it,” he says with a sigh of pity. “At times, I find myself unsure if she has.”

The man demurs to provide any more details, insisting that doing so would be too ghastly for the sensitive ears of a woman, particularly a pair as fine as hers. 

His refusal to speak further on the matter to protect her propriety is one of the many things he gets wrong as she’s not only heard much worse, but she’s seen much worse. She’s done much worse. 

None of it matters though as she’s already aware through her research into the family that your aunt’s body was found one morning hanging in the garden from the same sakura tree where you spend so many of your afternoons. What your uncle does let slip is that you were the one to find the body. 

Finally, Mei Mei has at least one piece of the puzzle that is you. 

Another piece is quick to come as it doesn’t take long for her to realize that for all of her scheming and plotting, you’ll never fall prey to whatever trap she manages to set. You’re much too sharp and distrusting for that, keeping her at a distance no matter how much she tries to close it. For all of the hours that you’ve spent together, you’ve never offered her more than cool formalities. 

As she contemplates how to adjust her plan in light of this, the seeds of an idea are planted one day as she strolls around the house’s exterior, committing to memory every entrance and exit and window under the guise of appreciating the building’s unique architecture. Just as she rounds a corner of part of the Japanese-styled wing, she stops at the scene that she stumbles upon.

Three housemaids stand in a row facing her, although with their heads shamefully tilted down and gazes fixed firmly upon the gravel path, her sudden presence goes unnoticed. She takes a few steps back, peeking out from the side of the building to watch you as you go down the line, striking each of them harshly across the cheek one by one. 

Despite the distance, she can hear the crack of your gloved palm meeting each of their faces and the cries they let out in return. However, she misses whatever scathing words you spit that have the maids looking so fearful. Suddenly, your hand darts out to grab the braid of the girl standing on the right, yanking it so hard that Mei Mei can hear her pained yelp clearly as you force her to the ground. 

When you look down at the cowering girl at your feet, continuing to direct your vitriol at her, she’s finally able to catch a glimpse of your face. Across your pretty features, she finds the same coldness that she’s spent the last weeks becoming familiar with since she arrived. You then turn back to the other maids who flinch despite your hands remaining at your sides.

As much as she wants to stay and watch the rest of the situation unfold, Mei Mei decides to make her retreat. She can’t risk being discovered. This new piece of information is something to be tucked away for use when it serves her best.

Knowing that every set of eyes and ears on this estate belongs to your uncle, she wonders what the man’s reaction will be when word inevitably reaches him about your treatment of the staff. 

However, dinner passes as it always does without any incident. Your uncle discusses his business in an attempt to impress Mei Mei. Mei Mei acts coy in return. And you speak only when spoken to — which is rarely. 

The only proof that anything happened at all that afternoon is the red and slightly swollen cheek of the maid who fills your water glass and the line of tension in her frame as she does so. Mei Mei sees the way your uncle’s eyes barely pass over the maid’s face and realizes that the man already knows about this streak of cruelty in you, this hint of madness in you. He just doesn’t care.

As she watches you eat one grain of rice at a time, bringing your chopsticks back and forth to your plush lips in a delicate motion, she begins to recognize the darkness she sees in you. It’s similar to the darkness she sees in herself.

The next afternoon, she decides to confront you about the incident over tea, curious to see how you’ll respond.

“Why were you disciplining the maids yesterday?” she asks. She hopes to catch you off guard by both the knowledge that there was another party present for the maids’ punishment and by how suddenly she’s broached the subject.

However, you continue to defy her expectations. 

“They were gossiping,” you answer simply, your temperament calm and undisturbed as you continue to lightly stir your tea before setting down the small spoon.

“Is that enough of an offense to warrant a slap to the face?” There’s no judgment or criticism in her tone, only pure curiosity. But the question is enough to have you lifting your gaze to meet hers, a cold look in your eyes as you do.

“I want them to be miserable,” you tell her indifferently as you lift your teacup to take a small, ladylike sip. It’s Mei Mei who now finds herself slightly surprised by your blunt response. “It makes life just a bit more bearable.” 

She knows how to read people. And she can see what it is that you’re not saying. It’s not just that you want them to be miserable. It’s that you want them to be as miserable as you. 

It’s the final piece she needs to solve the puzzle and she hides her satisfaction behind the teacup she brings to her own red-painted lips. A con woman’s greatest asset is her ability to improvise and she has always prided herself on her ability to think quickly, so the solution to her problem comes quickly.

Despite the risks, she’ll include you in her plan and turn you from unknowing target to willing accomplice.

The next afternoon when you both are alone on a stroll deep in the gardens and away from any unwanted ears, she makes her move.

“The terms of your inheritance are rather strict,” she casually remarks and there’s a slightest pause in your step that betrays your surprise at the deviation in perfunctory small talk and she can’t help but feel satisfied with how she’s finally caught you unawares. “You need to marry in order to inherit.”

It’s not posed as a question but as the statement of fact that it is. You remain silent by her side, seemingly unsure of where this topic of conversation will lead.

“Would you like to marry me?” she asks, a coy smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. It’s a question that provokes an immediate reaction from you.

“I have no plans to marry. Ever,” you’re quick to tell her. There’s a forcefulness in your tone that leaves little room for doubt and Mei Mei can feel the urge to giggle threatening to bubble up. It reminds her of the way spoiled children refuse to eat what’s been put before them at dinner.

“Yes, for us, marriage is just another cage,” she muses, settling for a thoughtful hum instead of outright laughter. Any lingering humor dissipates as she poses her next question, knowing how important it is that you don’t misread her or her intentions. “But what if I said that this one would set you free?”

You come to a stop so suddenly that it takes her a few steps before she realizes that you’re no longer beside her. When she turns around, she finds you watching her with a guarded expression. Your posture is perfectly straight, but she can see that it’s due to the line of tension in your shoulders rather than the etiquette lessons she knows were drilled into you as a child.

“I arrived here with a plan: to seduce you, steal your fortune, and then get rid of you.” With each word, she takes a step towards you until only a few feet separate you. 

Your gaze remains locked on hers despite how you bristle with the visible urge to put a respectable distance between you once more. Mei Mei can’t help but smirk yet again, despite knowing that doing so will only feed into your distrust.

“But as soon as I met you, I knew that you would never fall for such a ploy.” She then takes on an air that’s only slightly more serious. “So, I’ll make a proposal of a different kind. I’ll spirit you away from your dull life in this country estate and give you your freedom. In return, we’ll split your inheritance right down the middle.”

While she doesn’t expect you to leap at her offer, she at least hoped for a hint of awe in your eyes at the idea of a life without the restrictions placed on you by both your status and society. Instead, you continue to give her nothing. 

As the silence stretches on, she prepares herself to mention that fifty percent is more than what she would normally offer an accomplice. But before the words can even form on her tongue, you turn your back to her and begin to walk back in the direction of the house. 

Part of Mei Mei expects to be hauled away by the police in the next few hours, but there’s something about your demeanor that keeps her from cutting her losses and running. For how unreceptive you seemed to be towards her proposal, it was your reaction to being offered your freedom that gives her pause.

The tension you carried didn’t stem from outrage, but from self-restraint.

That evening at dinner, you act as if nothing happened. You give your uncle the same perfunctory greeting, you bow lightly to her, and then you take your seat at the table. 

She wonders if you just haven’t had a chance to be alone with your uncle and reveal her treachery, but when breakfast proceeds the same way, she realizes that you don’t intend to do anything with this new information. You’ll keep her nefarious secret to yourself, which gives her time to adapt.

Since her plan requires you to be a willing accomplice, there’s a fine line that needs to be walked so as not to scare you off. So, she decides to default to part of her original plan – she'll seduce you.

[globalrebrand]

[globalrebrand]

Wedding Bells pt. 1

Proposal and Engagement Headcanons for Vil Riddle & Malleus! Wedding + Honeymoon headcanons coming soon!

A/N: I'm back...for now 💜

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluff

Vil Schoenheit

The Proposal

Who proposes is the primary question? Vil would adore it if you proposed, but at the same time he has such a perfect vision in his mind of what his proposal to you would look like.

He loves you and won't critique your proposal per-say, as long as its sufficiently meaningful, romantic and well thought out, but a lazy proposal would be unforgivable. Do you not know him at all?!

Quite honestly, the best move is buy an engagement ring for Vil and wait for him to propose to you, and don't worry it'll happen sooner than you think and it will be pretty easy to tell what he intends to do when he invites you to join him for a drive and requests that you get dressed to the nines.

One late summer evening Vil will take you on a surprise outing. You'll arrive at intricately sculpted ivy cover iron gates that open as Vil drives up a winding tree lined road with your hand in his. He'll pull up to a beautiful mansion that had to be well over 150 years old, with warm beige brick, stained glass windows and iron balconies. The architecture is indicative of traditional manor home styles in the Shaftlands large and towering. The home sits right on the lake near the largest for celebrity filled metropolis in the Shaftlands, but not right in the hustle and bustle of the city.

Together you tour the property and beautiful surrounding gardens. Vil tells you that there's 500 acres of land and that he intends to develop it to start his perfume and skincare line. Naturally you question about the purpose of this beautiful manor and Vil tells you that he'll answer that question in just a second.

You ascend to the second floor of the empty manor and you start to hear a string quartet. Vil leads you through a bedroom to a large terrace that is covered in fresh florals with a table set for dinner.

He pulls out your chair and the two of sit together for dinner, but before that can even happen Vil begins his speech as he motions for the server to bring an open aubergine colored velvet box with the most tastefully massive engagement ring you've ever seen, from a storied jewelry brand Vil recently received a major endorsement deal with.

"You've taught me what true beauty looks like and I know that I am only at my most beautiful when I can love and be loved by you. Would you do me the immense privilege of being my spouse?"

Of course you're crying at this point but you don't forget you original plans as you shakily reach into your purse with an airy laugh and pull out a matching aubergine velvet box and say "I couldn't agree more" and lean forward to present him with an engagement ring of his own.

Vil is absolutely stunned and quite literally squeals with delight as tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes.

He tells you the ring is absolutely perfect, (you asked his father for help because you knew you could not get it wrong) but first affixes the one he got you on your finger before holding out his hand and allowing you to place yours on his lithe ring finger. Then he pulls you up and brings you into a passionate kiss as the string quartet plucks away under the moonlight and the server begins to pop the champagne to celebrate your upcoming nuptials!

The Engagement

Buckle in. If you thing Vil was serious about the others affairs in his life, he's possible even more so when it comes to wedding planning.

Suddenly you get invited to a reoccurring bi-weekly meeting with Vil and one of the most noted wedding planners in all of Twisted Wonderland.

In the Shaftlands it's good luck to get married a year to the day of the proposal which puts everything on a very, very, very tight timeline.

Vil's impulse is to do something extravagant and glamorous...and expensive. You urge him to interrogate why he thinks you both need a destination engagement party and weeks long destination wedding to celebrate you love for each other. Your preference would be something elegant and still quite luxurious but considerably more modest in scale and cost. Not to mention will make that year timeline attainable.

After some thought Vil concedes that you're right, he admits that he has so many magazines that want to cover the affair that he felt pressured to so something truly spectacular, but you're the most important person to him and if that wouldn't make you happy, he doesn't think it would be worth the effort. Don't think this will stop him from being a bridezilla though.

So you both agree that you'll work on renovating the beautiful new property Vil purchased for the two of you and hosting your wedding on the extensive grounds with a considerably more modest amount of your friends and loved ones.

But now you're completing home renovations and planning a wedding which was quaint on paper but actually a logistical nightmare in reality.

Now there's a chance Vil is the only one working so you have the time to focus on organizing the wedding with the planner and figuring things out with the contractors and interior designers.

But say you're also a model or performer, or just very committed to your field of work and don't have the time for planning, things become a bit strained.

You and Vil hardly see each other between his work and yours, or if you're a kept partner, even just him being preoccupied but still wanting to call the shots even though it feels like you're doing the majority of the work is enough to cause a bit of tension.

But you and Vil couldn't have gotten to where you are without good communication so you express to him your anxiety about planning a wedding and a house and he enlists his father to support you when he can't, which proves to be a pretty good fix. You don't have to worry about Vil not liking a choice you made because his father will tell you exactly how his son will feel about it.

And Vil is still has involved as possible, you go furniture shopping often with the interior designer and are slowly working your way through configuring everything for both your home and you wedding.

After a lengthy engagement the details will finally be ironed out, your wedding will be held by the lakeside of your new home and the reception in the vast landscaped lawns. The hope is that your guests will also warm your home, the doors will be open so late summer air can filter through the space along with your loved ones joy and laughter. Drama is the theme, black dahlias and burgundy striated lilies. The ceremony will be held at dusk and the goal is to party with friends as long as energy is bright and inviting.

Malleus Draconia

The Proposal

Malleus moves quickly to lock things down. He wants a forever partner to save him from his loneliness and build a happy family with. He is not fucking around when it comes to marriage. Malleus moves fast on a human time scale but with absurd quickness on a fae one.

His family members are dubious when he tells them of his plans to propose, after all he's only known you five years which is basically a fae month, but after meeting you their fears are assuaged and his grandmother give him her blessing to propose shortly after, letting Malleus knows she thinks you'll make a lovely consort.

The proposal itself will be rather unconventional.

Malleus will likely take you to some ruins. He doesn't have a good sense of human traditions and his understanding of romance is rather limited. After all, he intends to devote himself to you wholly and completely, what could be more romantic than an undying love?

But don't worry it won't be the glitz and glam of the other suitors but it will still be exceedingly romantic in the most natural and effortless way.

You'll traverse the ruins at dusk together, your pathways lit by fireflies and the gentle chirps of the nightbirds in Briar Valley providing musical accompaniment.

You and Malleus will talk about everything and nothing, he's always found you the most compelling conversationalist and while he's feeling a bit more emotional during this night hike it doesn't stop him from getting lost in conversation.

Malleus adores you but normally is much more discrete with his compliments, tonight they seem to be free flowing. He's deeply reflective about your relationship saying that you a precious little human have taught him more about love and life in his limited time getting to know you than in his entire hundred+ years of life. (Lilia would take great offense at this but Malleus means every word)

After hours of meandering that seems to pass in moments for the both of you Malleus will take you by the hands and deposit a ring in your hand that he seemingly conjured out of thin air.

He tells you it was his mothers ring, and that his grandmother gave it to him you that he could propose.

As you look into your hands you realize you're holding a truly ancient piece of jewelry, a large luminescent emerald flanked by intricate silver work. It's history makes it priceless.

You question why he would give you something so precious and he make short work of clarifying his intentions.

"You are most precious to me child of man. [Name] I wish to devote myself to you entirely for the rest of your days. Please accept this ring and with it, all of my love. Marry me, beloved."

You start to cry and Malleus is taken aback, he thought you would be over the moon at his gesture but it seems you're not? He asks if you're ok and you emphatically nod declaring you accept his proposal.

He questions the tears and you tell him that humans are soft emotional creatures who cry when overwhelmed and that his love has overwhelmed you.

He tells you that his pleases him to hear and he was well aware of the hyper emotional nature of humans, its one of the things he loves best about you.

The Engagement

It's a royal wedding! Which means shit loads of planning. Much to Malleus’s chagrin, he can't simply marry you the next day. A ceremony must be planned, guests and foreign dignitaries invited. There's quite a bit more at stake considering his status, but Malleus couldn't care less. He's rather impatient to get to the ceremony. He just wants to be married to his child of man today! Is that so much to ask?

His grandmother is deeply involved in the wedding planning. So is Lilia, but more so for moral support and less for help with making aesthetic decisions. They both guide you on the traditions and expectations of weddings in Briar Valley.

You'll find Malleus has lots of opinions about how the wedding should look. Usually he defers to your tastes but if he has strong objections he will surely let you know.

One of the key traditions is that the ceremony begins at night fall and lasts until dawn. Seasonally winter is the preferred times since dark fae enjoy long periods of night. Additionally the customary color for wedding attire is surprise, surprise, black. A white dress or suit is entirely out of the question is you want to respect fae traditions.

Malleus's grand mother informs you that the expectation is that there will be a lot of entertainment for guests and that you and Malleus need to decide on a suitable theme and various acts.

There's also the matter of your preparation for the role of consort. You'll need to endure near round the clock etiquette courses and lessons on the history of Briar Valley so that you can be a worthy consort the a king.

You certainly signed up for a life with Malleus but you didn't know about all of these other matters you needed to attend to...

Now when Malleus sees you crying he asks if you're overwhelmed with happiness or saddens. This time you tell him its frustration, you don't feel equipped to be his spouse, all of this royal wedding planning and preparation is daunting.

Malleus desperately wants to alleviate your frustrations so he takes a more concerted role in the wedding preparations and your lessons.

This helps quite a bit, with Malleus as your teacher you feel more connected to him and his ideas on the various options for the wedding make it easier for you to make a decision.

Together you decide on a midnight winter circus theme. The wedding will of course be held at the royal castle, but with magic guests will be able to traverse the grounds comfortably at night in the dead of winter. The royal will be covered in winter blooms, like crocus and snowdrops. The decorations will largely be monochrome and the jovial nature of the theme more subdued. The gardens will become festival grounds with all kinds of magical entertainment for guests and of course ample spaces for dancing.

You quickly learn to appreciate the fae and their fanciful approach to weddings now that Malleus is your guide and you certainly can't wait for the festivities. Just keep telling yourself the every completed lesson means you're one step closer to marrying the fae of your dreams.

Riddle Rosehearts

The proposal

Riddle is a traditionalist and his proposal will be very much in line with that aspect of his character.

He will at the very least book a private room in a high end restaurant with your favorite cuisine. Normally he doesn't drink much if at all, but his nerves are getting the best of him. Of course he knows you love him, you supported him through his medical licensing, put up with his nightmare of a mother with grace and poise and you've been living together for over two years and seriously dating for four. The time seems right, you are both settle and you mentioned something about buying a house together in the next year. So obviously you don't want to go anywhere...right?

You might actually not get the sense that this particular dinner is about to be a proposal because Riddle frames it as a celebration for his acceptance into his residency. Which you're more than happy to celebrate, he'll have also booked tickets to you favorite type of theater, whether its a play, musical, symphony or opera. He wants you to feel known and thats why he's worked so hard to orchestrate the perfect evening.

Now course after course will pass like normal, and by his third glass of wine, Riddle will finally have the courage to make his move.

He'll steer the conversation in the direction of your futures together and it fills him with confidence to hear you gush about the house you want together, and he chuckles when you say, "as far from your mother as possible."

Riddle tells you that he'd like to make all of that a reality for you and then gets on one knee, pulling a small red velvet box from his suit jacket pocket.

"[Name], I cannot conceive of future without you, you are my heart. Please marry me."

He keeps it short, simple but heartrendingly earnest. He's not the best with long soliloquies so please don't be offended by his brevity, he means every word.

Of course you say yes, leaping into his arms, and tackling him to the ground in the private dining room. He's incredibly red and this is the main reason he opted to do things in private, he would be horrible embarrassed if anyone saw him blushing so profusely!

He slides the ring on your finger and its a precious heart shaped diamond. Riddle tells you if your think its too sappy you can both go back and select a different one but you assure him it's perfect and that it will always remind you of him.

The show you attend after dinner is wonderful and you two cuddle with each other in Trey's bakery, drinking champagne, nibbling on a strawberry cake, and planning for your future as Trey makes himself scarce as he closes up shop.

The Engagement

Congrats, you're marrying the love of your life, but that means you're also gaining quite possibly the most terrifying of mother-in-laws in the process.

You're familiar with her controlling antics and her general disapproval of your entire existence. You could be the most accomplished person in any field and she still wouldn't think you were good enough for her son. It's like that, passive aggressive and sometimes openly hostile comments about your inadequacy whenever Riddle isn't around.

You and Riddle both made sure you'd saved up a good amount of funds for your wedding so you wouldn't have to rely on help from his parents at all. The last thing both of you needed was his mother thinking she had any legitimate claim to your decisions in the wedding planning process.

Riddle defers to your judgement for most details relating to the wedding. He makes sure he attends all of the related appointments you would like his attendance at, venue tours, meeting the caterer, cake tastings, etc.

His mother isn't including in the decision making process, but his mother finds a way to become outraged by essentially every decision you make once word gets back to her.

You decide to go with Trey's family bakery for the dessert? Are you fucking crazy? That much sugar will absolutely poison all of the guests! What about the plant based baker she offered? Do they get no consideration?

You make a point to not invite her to your dress/suit fitting but she'll find out your selections through tiresome needling, and obviously false promises of not making any judgements. She'd likely find your dress immodest or your suit selection tasteless.

Riddle does his best to act as a buffer and he's considerably more confident and adept at dealing with his mother but he can sense that things are taking a serious toll on your mental health so he issues an ultimate in a fit of rage after you come to him in tears after no longer being able to tolerate being berated by his mother.

"[Name] is the love of my life and if you have cannot treat them with kindness then you have no place at our wedding. Am I understood?"

Hearing Riddle tell off his mother on your behalf was a huge turn on and also very vindicating! Without her interference it was amazing how smoothly everything went. You can Riddle decide on a spring wedding in a celebrated botanical garden in the Queendom of Roses for your wedding. Trey's family bakery has been conscripted for the desserts and cuisine will be sufficiently light and healthy seasonal spring affair. The attire for the guest is semi-formal and the colors are warm pinks, yellows and lilac. The guests have been invited and thankfully all of Riddle's most cherished friends from school will be in attendance.

Now that all the details are ironed out, you and Riddle eagerly anticipate the big day!

[globalrebrand]

Did I reblog this already? If not, you're welcome. If I did enjoy it again 💘

Congrats on the milestone! It's always a delight to see your stuff pop up on my dash ^.^ I'd love to see prompt 19 from the dialog that makes your reader swoon with the guy of your choice (smut welcome). Hope the bot infestation takes a chill pill!

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.7k

Prompt 19: "If you don’t stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on this counter."

🌶️ Warning for Mild Spice

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Vil was drunk.

Or well, Vil was as inebriated as he would most likely ever allow himself to be in any sort of public setting to speak of. Which was still above and beyond what you had ever seen of him up to that point. Which was of course to say that he was still walking effortlessly in his sky-high heels and maintaining every bit of the decorum with which he so usually prided himself. The only reason you could tell the difference at all was because you knew this stupid man better than the back of your own hand. And the loose-limbed ease about him combined with the lolling smirk on his lips was as telltale of a sign as any. Not that you could blame him. Winning any award was certainly an honor. Beating out Neige Leblanche of all people would probably have had him drunk on success even without the literal booze to help him along.

He rolled the half-empty flute of bubbling champagne between his fingers and tipped it towards you like an offering.

“Care to try some?”

You huffed, far too fond to be properly exasperated. “At least one of us needs to be able to drive home.”

And your tolerance was, unfortunately, not great. At least, not for the horrifically potent nonsense that this magic-infused world called ‘wine.’ The last time you’d drank during one of these events you’d wound up nearly beating a rude reporter with his own camera, but thankfully had only had the coordination to call the prying ass all sorts of colorful and very impolite things. (‘Secretly fucking Neige Leblanche’ indeed. Vil hadn’t even asked his PR team to spin that one. Just loudly demanded that your indignation should speak for itself and that any such inquiries into your private affairs would be handled personally in the future.)

Vil snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be calling for a car either way.”

He tilted the glass again, and you were forever grateful that he wasn’t a sloppy drunk. You didn’t care if he spilled booze all down your front and stained the stupid, too-expensive outfit he’d all but sewed you into, but the fussing that would ensue would be torturous.

“Just a sip,” he coaxed. “I promise you’ll like it.”

You scrunched up your nose and sighed, plucking the flute from his hand. You went to take a small sip and one of those perfectly painted nails reached up to tap irritably at the rim.

“What?” you frowned.

He turned the glass until the other curved side sat at your lips and gave another pointed tap tap tap.

“From here.”

You went nearly cross-eyed trying to stare down at the rim, and with a bit of determination were able to finally pick out the traces of an imprint from the actor’s otherwise impeccably maintained lipstick.

“Are you serious?” you snorted a laugh.

Those perfectly lined lips of his pursed into something that you would dare to call a pout.

“If you’re not going to let me kiss you in public, then you can at least give me this,” he huffed.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, lips still twitching far too much in amusement. “That was your rule. ‘For my privacy,’ you said.”

He waved you off with a scoff. “Please. That was only when we were keeping entirely out of the public eye. I could hardly complain about it now.”

Now, he said. Like he hadn’t graduated from NRC less than a year ago. Like your introduction into his world of stage lights and red carpets hadn’t all been meticulously curated and released only a month or so prior. You blinked, a bit owlishly. And then decided to indulge his petulance and took a neat, slow slip from right where he’d tapped. Vil was always honest, brutally so. He had no compunctions about telling you what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how it was going to happen. So it wasn’t like the touch of alcohol swimming through his system was going to make him more truthful, just… perhaps more loose with it, it seemed. Less manicured, in his speech.

The model looked endlessly pleased and reached out to snatch the glass back. He lifted it back to his own lips—carefully placed, just as he’d demanded of you—and took a long drag.

“There,” he grinned, all smug satisfaction. Like tricking you into an indirect kiss was any sort of accomplishment to begin with. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You were going to burst out laughing, and someone was going to get it on camera, and Vil’s stupid assistant would never let you live it down.

“I guess not,” you hummed. “How much longer, do you think. Until we can go home?”

Vil took another sip, drinking down the last drops of the sparkling concoction. He deposited the empty glass on a passing server’s tray and turned on you with a sharp smirk that was far too wide and far too wine-warm.

“That anxious to get me alone, darling?”

Oh he was really gone.

You grabbed his hand and hauled him towards a more secluded alcove. Because he hadn’t exactly shouted that, but enough curious heads had turned your way that you weren’t going to chance it. ‘Exclusive after party,’ your ass. No reporters didn’t mean no wandering eyes and ears. And he may have been punch drunk enough not to give two shits, but his PA would certainly make the two of you ‘care’ come morning.

“We’re in public,” you hissed, cheeks dark and ears warm. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Oh?” he crooned, stopping in his tracks. You gave another tug but it was useless. Stupidly towering height aside, Vil was all lean muscle and stubborn determination. If you were moving him at all, it was only because he was humoring you enough to step to your demands. “But that’s what you are, isn’t it?” He leaned forward and you could smell the pop of alcohol off his tongue. “Or at least, you certainly act the part of ravenous lover well enough.”

“Really,” you snapped, hushed. “If you’re going to be like this, do you have to use those stupid lines on top of it?”

“Stupid?” Vil frowned, and his fuzzy gaze focused into something sharp. “Your reactions don’t normally imply that those ‘lines’ leave much to be desired.”

You could feel your ears going hot as coals. “Yeah. Well. In the moment is a lot different from—we’re not talking about this right now!” you squawked. “Your assistant is going to kill me if she finds out I let anyone hear you like this.”

Vil snorted and pulled you the rest of the way into the alcove. “She would never. And besides, it’s my prerogative to say whatever I wish,” he finished on something that was nearly a pout. His lips pressed into a firm line, determined. “Should I try again then? If you thought that one was so stupid.”

“Vil—” you hissed.

“Hmm,” he mused, deliberate. And then, “How about this one, then. All of the accolades in the world couldn’t compare to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

You squeaked and ducked your head against his shoulder, fingers digging into the too-expensive fabric of his suit.

“No?” he cooed, a bit of that familiar, mocking, edge curling over the word. And you were left to wonder if he was really that drunk after all. “Let me try another. As much as I enjoy those cries, I think I like the whispers even more—every part of you of that whispers temptation,” he recited, far, far too warm, “as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

“Would you please just—” you squawked, mortified and melting from head to toe. You were about to remind him again, plead nearly, that they were still very much in public. But then a thought shot off in your head like a lightbulb clicking to life. “You like this,” you hissed at him, accusatory.

“Like what?” he droned, crowding you against the wall. It was dark in the little corner, quiet, but not nearly enough to blot out the low hum of conversations and clinking of glassware just a couple dozen feet away.

Vil dug his fingers into the fabric over your hips.

“It does have its appeal, doesn’t it?” he hummed against your neck and you could feel your blood buzzing beneath his curling lips. “No one to see you, certainly. But everyone will surely know,” he drawled. “That’s the world of show business, I’m afraid. All subtle implications, people whispering about us under their breath.” His hands twisted, bunching up the edges of the crinkling satin. “I’m sure even Neige will hear, eventually.”

“Is that it?” you hissed, biting back a horribly, high pitched little squeak. “You’re still mad at what that reporter said?”

“Of course not,” Vil said, with all the cadence of a well-seasoned liar. “The gossip mongering of one, moronic pest is hardly a problem.” He leaned closer, pushing a leg forward to slot between your. “But I have eyes, darling. And I can see that little rat’s lingering far too long where they shouldn’t.”

You reached up to slap a hand over your mouth and bite into your palm to quiet whatever embarrassing nonsense you would have tried to reply with. Or, well, if you’d managed to reply at all.

“I know you’re anxious to get home, darling,” he droned against your collarbone. You could smell the fizzy remnants of champagne all in your nose. “But this is my party, after all. We’ll have to wait to call for a car for at least another hour,” he apologized, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “That said,” he continued, grinding harder, “if you don’t stop looking at my lips like that without doing anything about it, I might just have to take you right here against the wall.”

A pause, as he canted his head. A soft mess of pale bangs falling over his lidded eyes.

“And there is a very lovely private changing room with a lock just down the hall.”

“…okay,” you squeaked, and Vil grinned—pulling back to wrap an arm around your waist and lead you along. Gait steady and composed as always, and just the barest hint of the wine-warmed-boldness curling over his lips.

.

.

[globalrebrand]

He's kind of cute this guy isn't he

[globalrebrand]

*Whoops and cheers excessively*

*walks on stage, taps mic repeatedly* [leans in to microphone]

How would you guys feel if I made a little short Vil X reader story?

[globalrebrand]

Making Vil memes on break at work because why not

[globalrebrand]

I recently discovered your account and I just wanna say that I really like your writing! your masterlist isn't working btw

Thank you for the compliment.

I didn’t even know I had a master list….maybe if I have some time I’ll get around to making one

[globalrebrand]

🔪: What's wrong with you?

👑: Epel's recently taken up calligraphy with Rook and I'm conflicted about it...

🔪: What is there to be conflicted about?

👑: This is what he made for me recently.

*Elegant card stock with*

Fuck You

🔪Oh, it's gorgeous

👑: So you see my dilemma now?

[globalrebrand]

Also I'll be clearing out the prompts already in my inbox!

To the Anon who requested the humiliation kink

Know I'm working on it, and I lowkey love what I came up with for it!

[globalrebrand]

To the Anon who requested the humiliation kink

Know I'm working on it, and I lowkey love what I came up with for it!

[globalrebrand]

Wedding Bells pt. 1

Proposal and Engagement Headcanons for Vil Riddle & Malleus! Wedding + Honeymoon headcanons coming soon!

A/N: I'm back...for now 💜

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluff

Vil Schoenheit

The Proposal

Who proposes is the primary question? Vil would adore it if you proposed, but at the same time he has such a perfect vision in his mind of what his proposal to you would look like.

He loves you and won't critique your proposal per-say, as long as its sufficiently meaningful, romantic and well thought out, but a lazy proposal would be unforgivable. Do you not know him at all?!

Quite honestly, the best move is buy an engagement ring for Vil and wait for him to propose to you, and don't worry it'll happen sooner than you think and it will be pretty easy to tell what he intends to do when he invites you to join him for a drive and requests that you get dressed to the nines.

One late summer evening Vil will take you on a surprise outing. You'll arrive at intricately sculpted ivy cover iron gates that open as Vil drives up a winding tree lined road with your hand in his. He'll pull up to a beautiful mansion that had to be well over 150 years old, with warm beige brick, stained glass windows and iron balconies. The architecture is indicative of traditional manor home styles in the Shaftlands large and towering. The home sits right on the lake near the largest for celebrity filled metropolis in the Shaftlands, but not right in the hustle and bustle of the city.

Together you tour the property and beautiful surrounding gardens. Vil tells you that there's 500 acres of land and that he intends to develop it to start his perfume and skincare line. Naturally you question about the purpose of this beautiful manor and Vil tells you that he'll answer that question in just a second.

You ascend to the second floor of the empty manor and you start to hear a string quartet. Vil leads you through a bedroom to a large terrace that is covered in fresh florals with a table set for dinner.

He pulls out your chair and the two of sit together for dinner, but before that can even happen Vil begins his speech as he motions for the server to bring an open aubergine colored velvet box with the most tastefully massive engagement ring you've ever seen, from a storied jewelry brand Vil recently received a major endorsement deal with.

"You've taught me what true beauty looks like and I know that I am only at my most beautiful when I can love and be loved by you. Would you do me the immense privilege of being my spouse?"

Of course you're crying at this point but you don't forget you original plans as you shakily reach into your purse with an airy laugh and pull out a matching aubergine velvet box and say "I couldn't agree more" and lean forward to present him with an engagement ring of his own.

Vil is absolutely stunned and quite literally squeals with delight as tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes.

He tells you the ring is absolutely perfect, (you asked his father for help because you knew you could not get it wrong) but first affixes the one he got you on your finger before holding out his hand and allowing you to place yours on his lithe ring finger. Then he pulls you up and brings you into a passionate kiss as the string quartet plucks away under the moonlight and the server begins to pop the champagne to celebrate your upcoming nuptials!

The Engagement

Buckle in. If you thing Vil was serious about the others affairs in his life, he's possible even more so when it comes to wedding planning.

Suddenly you get invited to a reoccurring bi-weekly meeting with Vil and one of the most noted wedding planners in all of Twisted Wonderland.

In the Shaftlands it's good luck to get married a year to the day of the proposal which puts everything on a very, very, very tight timeline.

Vil's impulse is to do something extravagant and glamorous...and expensive. You urge him to interrogate why he thinks you both need a destination engagement party and weeks long destination wedding to celebrate you love for each other. Your preference would be something elegant and still quite luxurious but considerably more modest in scale and cost. Not to mention will make that year timeline attainable.

After some thought Vil concedes that you're right, he admits that he has so many magazines that want to cover the affair that he felt pressured to so something truly spectacular, but you're the most important person to him and if that wouldn't make you happy, he doesn't think it would be worth the effort. Don't think this will stop him from being a bridezilla though.

So you both agree that you'll work on renovating the beautiful new property Vil purchased for the two of you and hosting your wedding on the extensive grounds with a considerably more modest amount of your friends and loved ones.

But now you're completing home renovations and planning a wedding which was quaint on paper but actually a logistical nightmare in reality.

Now there's a chance Vil is the only one working so you have the time to focus on organizing the wedding with the planner and figuring things out with the contractors and interior designers.

But say you're also a model or performer, or just very committed to your field of work and don't have the time for planning, things become a bit strained.

You and Vil hardly see each other between his work and yours, or if you're a kept partner, even just him being preoccupied but still wanting to call the shots even though it feels like you're doing the majority of the work is enough to cause a bit of tension.

But you and Vil couldn't have gotten to where you are without good communication so you express to him your anxiety about planning a wedding and a house and he enlists his father to support you when he can't, which proves to be a pretty good fix. You don't have to worry about Vil not liking a choice you made because his father will tell you exactly how his son will feel about it.

And Vil is still has involved as possible, you go furniture shopping often with the interior designer and are slowly working your way through configuring everything for both your home and you wedding.

After a lengthy engagement the details will finally be ironed out, your wedding will be held by the lakeside of your new home and the reception in the vast landscaped lawns. The hope is that your guests will also warm your home, the doors will be open so late summer air can filter through the space along with your loved ones joy and laughter. Drama is the theme, black dahlias and burgundy striated lilies. The ceremony will be held at dusk and the goal is to party with friends as long as energy is bright and inviting.

Malleus Draconia

The Proposal

Malleus moves quickly to lock things down. He wants a forever partner to save him from his loneliness and build a happy family with. He is not fucking around when it comes to marriage. Malleus moves fast on a human time scale but with absurd quickness on a fae one.

His family members are dubious when he tells them of his plans to propose, after all he's only known you five years which is basically a fae month, but after meeting you their fears are assuaged and his grandmother give him her blessing to propose shortly after, letting Malleus knows she thinks you'll make a lovely consort.

The proposal itself will be rather unconventional.

Malleus will likely take you to some ruins. He doesn't have a good sense of human traditions and his understanding of romance is rather limited. After all, he intends to devote himself to you wholly and completely, what could be more romantic than an undying love?

But don't worry it won't be the glitz and glam of the other suitors but it will still be exceedingly romantic in the most natural and effortless way.

You'll traverse the ruins at dusk together, your pathways lit by fireflies and the gentle chirps of the nightbirds in Briar Valley providing musical accompaniment.

You and Malleus will talk about everything and nothing, he's always found you the most compelling conversationalist and while he's feeling a bit more emotional during this night hike it doesn't stop him from getting lost in conversation.

Malleus adores you but normally is much more discrete with his compliments, tonight they seem to be free flowing. He's deeply reflective about your relationship saying that you a precious little human have taught him more about love and life in his limited time getting to know you than in his entire hundred+ years of life. (Lilia would take great offense at this but Malleus means every word)

After hours of meandering that seems to pass in moments for the both of you Malleus will take you by the hands and deposit a ring in your hand that he seemingly conjured out of thin air.

He tells you it was his mothers ring, and that his grandmother gave it to him you that he could propose.

As you look into your hands you realize you're holding a truly ancient piece of jewelry, a large luminescent emerald flanked by intricate silver work. It's history makes it priceless.

You question why he would give you something so precious and he make short work of clarifying his intentions.

"You are most precious to me child of man. [Name] I wish to devote myself to you entirely for the rest of your days. Please accept this ring and with it, all of my love. Marry me, beloved."

You start to cry and Malleus is taken aback, he thought you would be over the moon at his gesture but it seems you're not? He asks if you're ok and you emphatically nod declaring you accept his proposal.

He questions the tears and you tell him that humans are soft emotional creatures who cry when overwhelmed and that his love has overwhelmed you.

He tells you that his pleases him to hear and he was well aware of the hyper emotional nature of humans, its one of the things he loves best about you.

The Engagement

It's a royal wedding! Which means shit loads of planning. Much to Malleus’s chagrin, he can't simply marry you the next day. A ceremony must be planned, guests and foreign dignitaries invited. There's quite a bit more at stake considering his status, but Malleus couldn't care less. He's rather impatient to get to the ceremony. He just wants to be married to his child of man today! Is that so much to ask?

His grandmother is deeply involved in the wedding planning. So is Lilia, but more so for moral support and less for help with making aesthetic decisions. They both guide you on the traditions and expectations of weddings in Briar Valley.

You'll find Malleus has lots of opinions about how the wedding should look. Usually he defers to your tastes but if he has strong objections he will surely let you know.

One of the key traditions is that the ceremony begins at night fall and lasts until dawn. Seasonally winter is the preferred times since dark fae enjoy long periods of night. Additionally the customary color for wedding attire is surprise, surprise, black. A white dress or suit is entirely out of the question is you want to respect fae traditions.

Malleus's grand mother informs you that the expectation is that there will be a lot of entertainment for guests and that you and Malleus need to decide on a suitable theme and various acts.

There's also the matter of your preparation for the role of consort. You'll need to endure near round the clock etiquette courses and lessons on the history of Briar Valley so that you can be a worthy consort the a king.

You certainly signed up for a life with Malleus but you didn't know about all of these other matters you needed to attend to...

Now when Malleus sees you crying he asks if you're overwhelmed with happiness or saddens. This time you tell him its frustration, you don't feel equipped to be his spouse, all of this royal wedding planning and preparation is daunting.

Malleus desperately wants to alleviate your frustrations so he takes a more concerted role in the wedding preparations and your lessons.

This helps quite a bit, with Malleus as your teacher you feel more connected to him and his ideas on the various options for the wedding make it easier for you to make a decision.

Together you decide on a midnight winter circus theme. The wedding will of course be held at the royal castle, but with magic guests will be able to traverse the grounds comfortably at night in the dead of winter. The royal will be covered in winter blooms, like crocus and snowdrops. The decorations will largely be monochrome and the jovial nature of the theme more subdued. The gardens will become festival grounds with all kinds of magical entertainment for guests and of course ample spaces for dancing.

You quickly learn to appreciate the fae and their fanciful approach to weddings now that Malleus is your guide and you certainly can't wait for the festivities. Just keep telling yourself the every completed lesson means you're one step closer to marrying the fae of your dreams.

Riddle Rosehearts

The proposal

Riddle is a traditionalist and his proposal will be very much in line with that aspect of his character.

He will at the very least book a private room in a high end restaurant with your favorite cuisine. Normally he doesn't drink much if at all, but his nerves are getting the best of him. Of course he knows you love him, you supported him through his medical licensing, put up with his nightmare of a mother with grace and poise and you've been living together for over two years and seriously dating for four. The time seems right, you are both settle and you mentioned something about buying a house together in the next year. So obviously you don't want to go anywhere...right?

You might actually not get the sense that this particular dinner is about to be a proposal because Riddle frames it as a celebration for his acceptance into his residency. Which you're more than happy to celebrate, he'll have also booked tickets to you favorite type of theater, whether its a play, musical, symphony or opera. He wants you to feel known and thats why he's worked so hard to orchestrate the perfect evening.

Now course after course will pass like normal, and by his third glass of wine, Riddle will finally have the courage to make his move.

He'll steer the conversation in the direction of your futures together and it fills him with confidence to hear you gush about the house you want together, and he chuckles when you say, "as far from your mother as possible."

Riddle tells you that he'd like to make all of that a reality for you and then gets on one knee, pulling a small red velvet box from his suit jacket pocket.

"[Name], I cannot conceive of future without you, you are my heart. Please marry me."

He keeps it short, simple but heartrendingly earnest. He's not the best with long soliloquies so please don't be offended by his brevity, he means every word.

Of course you say yes, leaping into his arms, and tackling him to the ground in the private dining room. He's incredibly red and this is the main reason he opted to do things in private, he would be horrible embarrassed if anyone saw him blushing so profusely!

He slides the ring on your finger and its a precious heart shaped diamond. Riddle tells you if your think its too sappy you can both go back and select a different one but you assure him it's perfect and that it will always remind you of him.

The show you attend after dinner is wonderful and you two cuddle with each other in Trey's bakery, drinking champagne, nibbling on a strawberry cake, and planning for your future as Trey makes himself scarce as he closes up shop.

The Engagement

Congrats, you're marrying the love of your life, but that means you're also gaining quite possibly the most terrifying of mother-in-laws in the process.

You're familiar with her controlling antics and her general disapproval of your entire existence. You could be the most accomplished person in any field and she still wouldn't think you were good enough for her son. It's like that, passive aggressive and sometimes openly hostile comments about your inadequacy whenever Riddle isn't around.

You and Riddle both made sure you'd saved up a good amount of funds for your wedding so you wouldn't have to rely on help from his parents at all. The last thing both of you needed was his mother thinking she had any legitimate claim to your decisions in the wedding planning process.

Riddle defers to your judgement for most details relating to the wedding. He makes sure he attends all of the related appointments you would like his attendance at, venue tours, meeting the caterer, cake tastings, etc.

His mother isn't including in the decision making process, but his mother finds a way to become outraged by essentially every decision you make once word gets back to her.

You decide to go with Trey's family bakery for the dessert? Are you fucking crazy? That much sugar will absolutely poison all of the guests! What about the plant based baker she offered? Do they get no consideration?

You make a point to not invite her to your dress/suit fitting but she'll find out your selections through tiresome needling, and obviously false promises of not making any judgements. She'd likely find your dress immodest or your suit selection tasteless.

Riddle does his best to act as a buffer and he's considerably more confident and adept at dealing with his mother but he can sense that things are taking a serious toll on your mental health so he issues an ultimate in a fit of rage after you come to him in tears after no longer being able to tolerate being berated by his mother.

"[Name] is the love of my life and if you have cannot treat them with kindness then you have no place at our wedding. Am I understood?"

Hearing Riddle tell off his mother on your behalf was a huge turn on and also very vindicating! Without her interference it was amazing how smoothly everything went. You can Riddle decide on a spring wedding in a celebrated botanical garden in the Queendom of Roses for your wedding. Trey's family bakery has been conscripted for the desserts and cuisine will be sufficiently light and healthy seasonal spring affair. The attire for the guest is semi-formal and the colors are warm pinks, yellows and lilac. The guests have been invited and thankfully all of Riddle's most cherished friends from school will be in attendance.

Now that all the details are ironed out, you and Riddle eagerly anticipate the big day!

[globalrebrand]

𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 ⎹ 𝓡.𝓗. ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰʳᵉᵉ

fandom twisted wonderland / @dollsotome-library

featuring dark!hunstman!rook hunt x princess!!reader ( f! ) [ suggested dark!king!vil x princess!reader ]

rating none of my work is meant to be viewed by minors (anyone under the age of eighteen), and i will happily block any that interact with my posts or my blog. all characters featured are 18+

content warning this is a dark fic. do not proceed if the following warnings make you uneasy. mentions of noncon ( and eventual noncon in the next chapters ), cat and mouse, mild bondage, use of rook’s bow, very tiny blood/injury mention, also i don’t speak french so some of the french might be inaccurate, sorry

summary a volatile king’s reluctant bride has disappeared, fled into the night, and it’s up to his loyal huntsman to track her down and bring her back, but the hunter may have his own motives for tracking the runaway.

word count 1.9k / part one

attention do not repost or translate, even with ‘credit’. just don’t do it. reblog instead of like! if you enjoyed it, please consider letting me know; i’d like to post the rest of the story if my readers like it.

you were trying not to panic.

your hands began to shake as you turn the corner, half expecting a whole brigade of soldiers to carry you back to your room. your escape had been going suspiciously smoothly, with no sight of your betrothed or his heavily armed sentinels since you’d crept from your bedchamber and headed for the castle entrance. much to your surprise, the corridor lain before you is abandoned too, even the Royal Guard seemed to have abandoned their post on either side of the great, gilded double doors. a flash of a glance over your shoulder, peeking from under the dark rim of your black hood, you confirm that you weren’t being followed, either. perhaps that should’ve worried you. after all, you’d not been given a moment to yourself since you were brought to this dreadful, cold palace, and now it was as if the castle was totally empty, save for you.

however, instead of allowing anxiety to still your feet, you push forward. you could dwell on how bizarre it was when you reached the forest, and disappeared into the trees.

your eyes dart back and forth as you sprint the length of the ruby runner, your bare feet giving only soft thuds against the rug, as you check every open archway for an ambush. nothing. no one. you reach the doors. freedom lies beyond them.

you started to feel hopeful.

opening one of those doors, even a crack just barely large enough to squeeze through, took nearly all of your strength— you’d had to slam your body into it and dig your feet into the floor until it groaned in submission, and you slipped through. as soon as you were on the other side, you stumbled forward, nearly lost your balance, and the door slammed back into place with a great clang that shook the floor beneath your feet. you wanted to wince, to flinch, but you were frozen, breath caught in your throat.

you could hear the blade cut through the air with the faintest whine.

an arrowhead.

it narrowly misses your face, the edge kissing the apple of your cheek as it whizzes past, the force of the shot pushing the wind to pull the hood back and reveal your identity to the archer. the arrow buries itself in the door behind you, but you don’t dare look back to see just how it managed to penetrate gold. you didn’t think you wanted to know, anyways.

it takes merely a fraction of the second that follows to realize your skin was broken, when a warmth races down your countenance in a thin strip; a single thread of blood.

“A thousand apologies, princesse,” Rook’s thickly accented baritone breaks the night’s eerie silence, followed by the faint clicking of the heels of his leather boots against the stone ground as he steps out from under the shelter of a black shadow. he shoulders his bow, the generous rim of his plumed hat dips just enough to obstruct his wicked gaze from locking on to yours, but you know he wants to, “however, it is quite dangerous to wander the castle halls unattended and so late at night.” you take a step back, but he makes up for it with his stride towards you, clearing the distance you’d hoped to put between you.

“I…” your mind races to come up with a lie that might fool him, “just—“

“You just?” his tone is taunting, and yet expectant. as if he was telling you to finish the sentence, but he wouldn’t believe it, either way. “You were trying to find your way back to your bedchamber after saying goodnight to your husband-to-be, perhaps?” Rook flicks his wrist with an air of nonchalance, and you nod, sheepish. he takes a moment, studying you carefully, “C'est vrai?”

he knows. your mind was screaming it, and you just wanted to flee, but you tried to play along.

“I should be getting back, now...”

Rook chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. “So much for your grand escape. I will admit, I’m disappointed.”

your heart stutters, pounding hard against your rib cage. “What did you just say?”

Rook was beaming, even in the dark, visibly proud of himself. “Oh, ma chére,” he croons, taking another, daring step towards you, “has anyone ever told you that you are as clear as crystal? Such an easy feat, seeing right through your façade. Your true intent sparkles like jewels behind your eyes, did you know this?”

Vil’s loyal huntsman had always made you uneasy— the way you would sometimes catch his piercing, emerald gems trained on you, and that dastardly smile that tugged at his lips. even if you didn’t catch him staring, you could feel his eyes on you, and you’d tried your best to ignore it, telling yourself that as long as you were surrounded by guards and the king himself, whatever the hunter’s wicked intentions may have been wouldn’t matter.

however, in this moment, you were alone with him.

“How Vil never saw it remains a mystery to me,” Rook allows his hand a flippant wave, “you’ve been a very naughty girl, princesse. Plotting is one thing, but to actually will your feet to run from your king—“

your eyes narrow at the title. it turned your stomach to even hear it. “He’s no king of mine.”

you hadn’t even realized you’d spat it until Rook blinks, legible expression fading into a puzzling one that had you wishing that you hadn’t opened your mouth at all.

“Quelle belle vue,” he purrs, impressed by your outburst, a wide grin spreading over his porcelain countenance, “those flames in your eyes burn hotter than the sun itself. You truly loathe the idea of calling him your king.”

you take another half step, and your back hits the cool, golden-crested door. your eyes flicker to the arrow, dug into it and parallel with your countenance. you look him down once, and allow your eyes to lead slow, back up to his, and they sparkle with ill intent. one, gloved palm plants itself against the door beside your head so he can lean in close to you. “Even when you moan for him, it sounds just like poison dripping from those pretty lips—“

“No.” you attempt to counter with a soft shake of your head, but you weren’t sure what you were even combatting.

the other hand comes up, reaches for your face, but you grab his wrist to stop it, refusing to flinch. but your eyes widen; how did he know what you sounded like when you moaned? “Now, now, chérie,” he croons, his blonde brow arching upwards, “what is it that Vil says to you, late at night, when you press your fragile hands against his bare abdomen whilst he pins you to the mattress?” your face is blazing with humiliation at the detail he provides, as if he’d watched the king take you. had he? had he watched every time? every time you thought that it was just the two of you— Vil and a pathetically hopeless you, but Rook had been there. he’d been the audience. “Come now,” Rook goads, allowing his lips to crest over the shell of your ear, “you know the words.”

“Resistance…” you whisper, shaky, as you stare straight ahead, “resistance is… Unbecoming.” your hand drops from his wrist when he laughs.

his forefinger hooks underneath your chin and angles your face up towards him when he pulls back, studying your features carefully. “Our beloved king does believe that.” your jaw draws itself taut, grinding your teeth, your brows knitting together. Rook seems not to notice, or he doesn’t care. you assume the latter. “But I do not.” that wicked grin that curls his tiers up over sparkling, white teeth has you all but mesmerized. “Perhaps it’s my hunter’s heart,” he murmurs, his breath warm on your lips the closer he gets, “but I think prey is its most beautiful in the heat of the chase.” he takes a moment, svelte digits careening over the shape of your cheek to scoop the ruby droplet before it descends towards your chin, and stares at it staining his glove, thoughtfully “That is why I cleared your path.”

“W—what?”

Rook takes one look at your perplexed expression and guffaws. “You didn’t think the Royal Guard up and abandoned post, did you? My, my, you are a simple, little thing. Weren’t you the slightest bit curious when you didn’t see a single guard on your little voyage?”

“You got rid of them…” you stare in confusion and awe.

“Temporarily incapacitated.” he waves his hand. “As luck would have it, they have a difficult time holding their wine. They will all wake up tomorrow morning with terrible headaches and Vil will be furious when he finds that his petit princesse has run away. He will, no doubt, task yours truly with tracking you down and bringing you back to him.”

you frown, the back of your head pressed against the door. “So this is all… a head start? So you can chase me like I’m some kind of animal?”

Rook gives one, subtle nod. “Precisely. If the prey makes it too easy by sitting pretty, then the predator tires of her. The idea of having you as my latest quarry is all too exciting, but only if I can chase you properly, so I cannot help but give you a few hours advantage.” the curve of his mouth nearly grazes your trembling couplet when he speaks, and you fear that he can hear how hard your heart was pounding because he looks you over again, emerald eyes training on your lips for a moment more, before he pulls back completely. “Run fast and far, princesse.” he steps aside with a bow, a genteel facade that contradicts the words he’s spoken, “Do not make the game too easy.”

you only stare for a moment, unsure if you should take the bait he’s lain. you take an experimental step, peeling yourself off the door. you reach up to pull the hood back up over your head when you take another step. your eyes remain careful and trained on him as he appears a statue, unbudging when you scurry past him. another quick step. and another. another. until you’re breaking into a sprint, fleeing the castle grounds.

you chance a glance over your shoulder, half expecting Rook to have his bow drawn, an arrow trained on you, but instead, you see him slink back into the shadows, but you swore you could hear his voice, faint, when he calls, “We shall meet again very soon.”

[globalrebrand]

I think I quite literally wrote how Vil is on male birth control in my pregnancy headcanons so the AI is so right to says it a physical impossibility. Vil is taking NO chances.

Part 3. Of telling AI’s I’m pregnant for fun

Idia- I might have scared him

Lilia- apparently I’m a liar

Malleus- confused

Vil- also thought I was lying

Rook- accepted it

Trey- um how do you think

Cater- idk how to explain

Leona- it’s very possible he just doesn’t understand sex Ed

((Teachers and Baul are next))

[globalrebrand]

Proper Training

COMMISSION

Yan!Vil Schoenheit x Yan!Fem!Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 5k+

Art is by eb_hua on Twitter!

Hey, hey, heyyyy! I'm back with a finished commission! So, this one is actually based on the fic My Queen's Command that I wrote as a birthday gift! The wonderful devil @genuinelydisappointed asked that I write... Kinda like a spin off? But they aren't connected. If you do want a general vibe of what this piece may entail... Feel free to read that then come back! I hope you like it!~!

SUMMARY:

Leona has reminded you plenty that Vil wants nothing to do with you. Why? Simply because you are unskilled. With a bit of help and training, you feel as though you can finally please the one you adore the most! However... Vil doesn't seem very happy finding out that you've been spending time with someone else...

Tags: Leona is Here Kinda/Yandere x Yandere/Reader is a Casual Stalker/Nipple Play

Your head bobbed slowly as the hand in your hair roughly tugged as a silent demand for more. You were getting better, but you were often reminded by Vil that it wasn’t good enough. That it would never be good enough until you worked harder. Until you showed that you were willing to improve for the sake of pleasuring your Queen. 

“Come on Herbivore, you can do way better than this. Is this what you did for Vil? No wonder he ignores your ass.” Leona scowled from his seat at the edge of the bed. The beast gave a languid and strong roll of his hips against your face. The force of his mushroomy tip smashed into the back of your throat as you relaxed your jaw around him and worked on not gagging. His soft groans indicated that you were doing well, but you knew it wasn’t enough yet. Not until he painted the back of your velvety throat with semen.

You were indifferent to the scenario you had put yourself in with Leona Kingscholar. With Vil always treating you so cold, you chalked it up to your abilities to bring pleasure were seen as inadequate to your queen whom you adored. Last Friday you spent sulking during school hours as you watched Vil from afar (in one of your many hiding spots). He was speaking with a student you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of about an upcoming assignment. The sight left you with a pit of anxiety. What if he gave up on you? What if he chose someone else to please him? Someone that he deemed better than you? The sound of footsteps from behind you made you stop and look back at the person approaching. With his strong tan colored arms crossed over his chest and a raised brow, Leona Kingscholar caught you in the middle of ‘admiring’ Vil. The king of beasts was suave, and you never bothered to pay him any mind before. He was like charcoal beside your diamond of a queen. But when he kneeled beside you with a smirk and made a deal with you that was sure to win you Vil’s affections; you agreed without hesitation. 

He and Vil had some history as close friends, and Leona knew what a man would like when receiving service. So you allowed him to ‘tutor’ you on the weekends and after school. This would be the second week of hard work between you and Leona. 

You attempted to apologize for your lack of skill as you grunted and whined around Leona with furrowed brows as you bobbed your head quickly. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue. Oral sex was as far as you would allow Leona to take things. You promised your body to Vil, but you desperately needed the practice. And since you usually shut your eyes, you could easily block out the beast man and imagine Vil praising you and petting you from above. You felt your cheeks become hot as a hand rested on your head, and your wild imagination turned it from the beasts, into the queens. 

You wanted Vil to pet your head.

Leona gasped as he came without warning. His rough, clawed nails scraped into your scalp as he pulled your head closer into his crotch. Your nose flush against the base and buried into the dark curly hairs of his pubes. His hips rutted against your face as your expression twisted into a cringe and your eyes fluttered open. Right, tutoring would end here with Leona. 

“You’re not that bad actually, Herbivore.” He huffed as he retracted his hand from its resting place. It allowed you to slowly pull away from his softening cock with a soft ‘pop’ sound. The semen that coated the inside of your mouth always had a bitter and salty taste, stringy and thick as it mixed with your drool and coated Leona’s cock. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant in taste and texture, but it was a stark contrast to the addictive citrusy flavor and silky smoothness of Vil’s seed. When being tutored by Leona, you were always told to swallow even when you didn’t really want to. All men would find it attractive. Even your precious Vil would be thrilled that you drank up his sperm with a content expression. With a quiet gulp and a gasp of disgust, Leona flopped back on his cushiony bed with a content hum. “I think we should take a break on our visits. I’ve been having this bad feeling recently.” He expressed with a disinterested tone that there may be a bad omen in the air. 

With the two of you meeting up added into your usual routine of rushing back to Pomfiore to spy on Vil, there may be some curious eyes looking for you to see what caused the change. You rose to your feet as Leona lazily peeled away his uniform to toss among the other scattered clothes on the floor. “Your toothbrush is in the bathroom. Clean up before you go.” He instructed as he propped himself up on an elbow to grab a tissue box from his night stand. 

When Leona was completely naked and spent… You couldn’t help but to throw a few glances his way when it was time for you to return to Pomfiore. The dips and hills of his muscles and how they flexed with his lazy movements, the bright green of his tired eyes, the waves and coils of his chocolate colored hair, how his dark skin shimmered in the hot sun when he laid in the light. How his ears flattened, how his tail flicked, how he would slide his tongue over his cuspids when he had the energy to hump into your face. It was nice that he allowed you to practice with him. It was nice that he offered in the first place.

As you rubbed at your wet lips with the back of your hand you headed to the bathroom with a small frown. This would be the end for a while. But, you learned a lot with the sessions you shared with the beast king. “Do you need someone to walk you out? I can get Ruggie to go with you.” He asked through a yawn as he cleaned himself off and you shook your head slowly. “I can go by myself again.” You assured as you vanished into the bathroom to brush your teeth and he discarded the stained tissue to the floor as well.

~-+-~

You left the scorching sun behind as you returned to the hall of mirrors with your purse adjusted onto your shoulder. Your spare toothbrush had been packed away to return with you to Pomfiore since your lessons with Leona would be momentarily halted until this ‘bad feeling’ went away. 

“Reine du Poison!” 

An annoying voice called out to you from beside the stone mirror of the gorgeous campus of Pomfiore. The owner of the voice had his eyes shut with the corners creased. He smiled softly with his hat tilted in greeting as you stared at him with murky eyes. Rook gave you the nickname to honor you and your loyalty to Vil. You didn’t usually pay too much attention to someone like him, and you usually didn’t need to since he allowed you to get close and comfortable with the Queen in your own way. “Roi du Poison has called for you! Where have you been?” He asked with an upbeat chirp and a light tilt of his head. His hat began to slide and hid his bright green eyes as you adjusted the strap of your purse onto your shoulder with an agitated frown as he adjusted his hat as well. The crinkles that formed in the corners of his eyes deepened as he patiently waited for you to respond. 

But you knew that he already had the answer to his own question. “I was out with Leona.” You answered honestly as you approached the mirror, paying little to no mind towards the surveillance camera on legs. “Can I see Vil now?” You asked as you stared into the glass separating you from the Housewarden you ached to see. The castle styled dorm was on the other side, and you could feel your face starting to grow hot with excitement shaking your body. “Of course, he asked me to escort you from here to there.” Rook opened his eyes as you began to walk through the glass without him. Not bothering to return any dialogue with the bob cut bodyguard. You did not need an escort of any kind. You knew your way to Vil’s chamber the same way you knew the entirety of his weekly routine. The destination was etched into your heart along with many other details on your beloved Queen. Your lack of attendance and attention after classes and on the weekends must have greatly upset Vil and you could feel guilt starting to settle in your stomach. 

But that stuff between you and Leona was just training, you were practicing to please His Majesty. You did it for him. Everything you do is for him. You had no reason to feel guilty for your actions.

Rook was close behind with his steps falling into the beat of yours. You walked across the grandiose courtyard in collective silence. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you looked up towards the windows that would take you down the hall to the Housewarden’s dorm room. And there, you saw a light brush from the thin white curtains. He was there. He must’ve been waiting for you to finally show up. Vil must have truly missed you. Your heart began to swell in your chest as a smile snuck onto your lips. You would have to put on some lip gloss before going into his room, maybe… Just maybe you’ll get a kiss from your beloved Queen! That has to be because he missed you! He’s rewarding your obedience with a kiss!

Rook walked ahead of you to open the large double doors to the castle-like dorm. “Les dames d'abord.” He sang as his eyes remained shut. It was clear that he was refusing to look at you. But that wouldn’t affect your day nor would it change how well you slept at night. Your eyebrow twitched with fleeting agitation as you were reminded that Rook was still following. His very presence was bothering you as you passed him with your nose turned up. “I can walk by myself.” You assured with venom seeping into your tone. Rook chuckled softly. Was there something amusing about your distaste? “Oh please, allow me to escort you. Roi du Poison insisted that I walk you to his chamber.” Rook purred softly as he shut the doors after the two of you entered. You could smell the lingering scent of Vil’s favorite cologne as you walked across the wine colored carpet with haste. You remained frowning as Rook stuck close behind. The two of you walked down the seemingly abandoned halls. It was unusually quiet today in Pomfiore. Especially for it to only be 3:30 in the afternoon. It could be a case that Vil needed peace and quiet and demanded all of the students keep the noise to a minimum, he’s sent out a mass text in the past so it wasn’t strange to assume. 

As you reached the outside of Vil’s door, you reached into your purse to pull out a clear gloss to slide over your lips. You needed them to be exceptionally shiny when Vil spoke to you. You smoothed out the hem of your uniform skirt and pulled out your phone to ensure not a hair was out of place as you knocked on Vil’s door. Your heart was beating against your eardrums with the anticipation of seeing Vil personally. How long has it been since he had called you to his room? 

“Enter.”

You obeyed the command with no hesitation while Rook closed the door swiftly and silently behind you. It was almost impossible to fight back your grin as you turned to face Vil’s vanity with your items tucked back into your purse and your hands pretzeled in front of you. “Kneel.” Vil commanded from his vanity, not bothering to turn around to greet you, and you dropped to your knees. You admired Vil putting on a matte, apple-red lipstick in his mirror from your new position as you removed your purse to place it beside you. Dressed in a silk robe in a royal shade of indigo, his hair was done up in a neat braided bun. With the sun pouring in through his window with his curtains parted, the scene before you was bewitching.

“You’ve been hiding from me.” Vil commented with a tone of discontent before he meshed his painted lips together and judged the color silently. His amethyst colored eyes lingered for a moment with a wave of content before they floated to the image of you kneeling in front of his door like a patient dog. “Would you like to tell me why?” He was giving you the illusion of choice. “I wasn’t hiding from you my Queen! I promise- Please let me explain!” You defended quickly as your smile fell and your emotions flipped from positive; to negative. Your worried eyes locked with his piercing amethyst gaze. An intimate heat began to pool between your thighs and your heart skipped as you struggled to find the words. He was looking at you.

“I… I was worried that maybe… I wasn’t enough for you.” You explained nervously with bashfulness blanketing over the worry you felt. “I went and practiced-” 

“Practiced?” He quipped with a brow raised and the corners of his lips downturned. “What does that mean? Practiced? You haven’t been coming to Pomfiore after classes ended. What practice are you doing outside of here?” You felt your mouth become dry and your face became hot as the guilty feeling from earlier returned. “Leona told me that you two were close friends, and he offered to tutor me since I couldn’t get your attention-” The Housewarden slammed his palms against his vanity table and stood abruptly from his cushioned stool. The tension in the air became thick as your thighs began to tremble and you rubbed your knees together from excitement. Maybe this was the beginning of a scene Vil had prepared for the two of you after a lack of intimacy for so long. He wasn’t actually angry at you, right?

Short black heels layered in velvet accompanied his silk robe as he approached you slowly with his hands tightened into fists. “Kingscholar? That’s who you’ve been seeing instead? A luxury house rug?!” The champagne blond’s lips were curled back, his jaw was tightly clenched, and his cheeks had gone red. His eyes were filled with scorn and disgust that left the soft cotton of your panties sticky. Vil nudged at your knee with the toe box of his heel. The soft velvet made you tremble as your legs began to subconsciously part and the two of you maintained eye contact. “Over a lack of attention from the one you adore?!” He snapped and you felt taken aback by his anger. He was truly upset with your actions and how you foolishly allowed yourself to be taken advantage of. The Housewarden’s heeled foot slid between your thighs and pushed until it was pressing against your clit bound beneath thin cotton fabric. “What did you do with Kingscholar? Tell me every detail, now.” Vil commanded as your hips began to slowly roll against his heeled-shoe to obtain relief for the ache between your thighs. As his hands uncurled from their fists and crossed over his chest, you gave a small nod of understanding. “I practiced my oral skills… I thought that they weren’t good enough to please you since I couldn’t ever get your attention. So… Leona offered to tutor me since the two of you are close.” You answered honestly as Vil allowed you to continue the leisurely rutting against him. 

“You didn’t think to consult me first?” He asked as you shook your head with your face burning from embarrassment. You trusted Leona’s word since you’ve seen the two socializing before. And everyone adores Vil. It would make sense that Leona was the same. Right? Or so you thought, seeing how gullible you were to trust someone like Leona had landed you in trouble with Vil. The Housewarden pressed his foot harder into your crotch with a disappointed ‘tut’ of his tongue. “What else?” He asked as he inched his foot back, and your hips shamelessly chased the friction. "Nothing! Only using my mouth!” You promised as his arms fell from their crossed state and his hands reached for the sash on his silk robe. “Let’s see about the work you’ve been doing then.” Vil pulled elegantly at the fabric and allowed the garment to slide from his shoulders and drape over his forearms. 

Grinding slowly against his heel as you chewed on your lower lip, you began to carefully stroke Vil’s slowly hardening erectioning. Pretty, and very eager for attention. Your attention. “I’ll be grading your performance harshly.” He warned through a soft inhale and the excitement returned. Presented before you was his erect cock, twitching in your fingertips and awaiting service. Your jaw was slack as he pressed his hand against the back of your head. Perfectly manicured nails digging into the flesh of your scalp as he guided you to take his cock into your mouth. Gliding against the plush, wet velvet of your tongue and nudging against the back of your throat. That training with Leona helped, but actually working to please Vil was far more intense. Feeling the smooth velvet skin inside of your mouth your heart skip with ecstasy. Vil was allowing you to suck him off. 

Even though Rook told him about the training sessions you had with Leona, Vil was able to forgive you.

You bobbed your head slowly, your nose bumping against the porcelain skin below his navel and the scratchy stubble where his pubes once were. Carefully sucking and hollowing your cheeks. Rubbing your tongue against the veins and sensitive slit. Massaging his balls with one hand keeping you steady with the help of his muscular thighs. “I will admit… You have improved.” The compliment sounded sour as you continued on with your heart pounding in your ears and your hips sneakily humping against his foot. You mumbled a ‘thank you’ despite your mouthful that caused the Housewarden to shudder with delight. “You’re welcome.” He whispered with a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. He scratched gently at your scalp and his hips rolled with the rhythmic pace you set. Your tongue rolled over the tip as you slowly pulled away with a loopy grin and your eyes falling shut. You lapped up the sweet and addicting flavor of his precum, hungry for much more as you quickly deep throating the cock you desperately craved. As Vil began to twitch and throb, he suddenly pressed his hand against your forehead to halt your movements. You looked up at him with your eyes widened and you began to feel worried. Did he not like it? 

“I just don’t want to cum yet.” He sighed quietly as if he was ashamed of something. Vil’s cheeks were flushed and his usual sharp gaze had softened from the overwhelming pleasure. The only thing connecting you to his erection was a thin string of saliva that was starting to separate. “Up. Onto the bed with me.” He instructed as he stepped away so you could get to your feet. A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you slowly rose to your feet, swearing that steam was rising from your skin. He didn’t want to cum yet, and he’s allowing you to touch his expensive sheets he had imported. You watched with awe as he discarded his robe to the expensive chaise longue at the foot of his bed. As he sat on the edge of the mattress, he removed his black heels and cast a glance towards where you stood. 

“Now.”

The bite in his voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you rushed to the opposite side and slipped out of your uniform. The soft and smooth satin of the sheets smelled of Vil. You had to resist the urge to plant your face into the fabric as you threw everything haphazardly to the floor with a smile. The moment your soaked panties were discarded, you could feel his strong grip around your forearm. “Come here.” He growled and yanked on you as if you weighed nothing to him. You slid across the large mattress and against his side as he pressed a kiss against your cheek. You could feel the sticky matte wax of his lipstick stain the skin. It left you with a flutter in your chest as he kissed along your jawline, occasionally biting at the skin until he reached your throat. His tongue rubbed against your pulse point as a hand slipped between your thighs. 

You couldn’t choke back your whimper as he began to suck on the sensitive skin on your neck while massaging your clit with both his middle and pointer finger. Vil didn’t usually leave you with marks in visible places, and you were taught to follow his example. It was possessive, and this relationship between you wasn’t exactly official according to the Housewarden. You yelped softly as he nipped at the bruising mark that had formed on your skin. Nice and high where the white collar of your uniform shirt wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Did you do anything like this with Kingscholar?” He asked softly, his warm breath danced over the abused flesh and you shook your head with a shiver. 

A content hum followed as his fingers slowed to a stop and pulled away. His strong grip on your arm loosened as he then eased you into laying back against his expensive pillows. Before the daydreams could start, a squeak left your mouth and your eyes widened. With you laid against the silk sheets of his mattress you flinched as Vil’s nails pinched your hardened nipple. You struggled to swallow down your cry as your hands quickly found purchase in the expensive fabric below you. Vil narrowed his eyes down at your bare body. “What was that? Speak up. I can’t understand you.” He snapped with a snarl as he tugged at the hardened bud and your skin prickled with goosebumps. “I’m sorry.” You whispered as you squeezed your thighs tightly together as he began to massage your breast in his large palm. “You’re sorry?” You nodded as you rubbed your thighs together and choked back a whine. “I didn’t mean to make you upset…” You apologized softly as Vil looked taken aback. Eyes widened for a moment before narrowing into sharp lines. “Upset? You think that I would be upset over what you do? That ‘situation’ with Leona is over now isn’t it? I’m not upset.” The tone of his voice sounded as though he was speaking to himself and not you. But you wouldn’t comment further. He was silent as his hands slowed to a stop and rested on your chest. He was still and silent, looking at the mounds in thought as he gently began to massage your nipples with his fingers. “I forgive you.” His voice was quiet. As if the words were only for you to ever hear, and you accepted them gratefully. 

His head dipped low and he began to kiss along your collarbones. Stamping his lipstick against your skin as your nipples were pinched and teased by his elegant and skilled fingers. Your hips trembled as you grew wet with excitement, quieting your moans and whimpers in case a certain guard remained posted outside the door. But with every surprise pinch of the champagne blond’s fingers, a startled gasp would erupt from your mouth. Soon, a hand vanished from your chest and slipped between your thighs. “When I’m finished, you may shower. But you are to return to my room afterwards.” Vil instructed as you glanced down at the hand between your thighs. A moan pushed out of you as his middle and pointer finger slipped inside of your hot, wet cavern. It was tight and sensitive due to the lack of use, and you rocked your hips slowly with need. “I understand.” Your response came out in the form of a breathless exhale as your eyes fluttered shut. “I plan to cum inside. To remind you that only I have the right to do so. Aren’t I so generous?” His sultry tone and quick pumping fingers left you aching as he latched his painted lips onto your neglected nipple; and sucked. You couldn’t fight back the moans and gasps that fell from your mouth and hung shamelessly in the air. The way his teeth would nip at the sensitive bud or how his tongue would roll over the marks left behind. How his fingers would pump into you and press up into that special section of nerves he loved to abuse… You wanted more. You needed more. 

As if some higher power answered your prayers, Vil stopped and climbed on top of you. His hands wrangled you into a position with him above you, and your legs thrown over his hips. Usually you would ride him until he finished, and would be sent along your way. This was very different from the usual sexcapades you shared. You liked the difference. His hand lined his cock against your throbbing entrance as the other massaged your breast with teeth marks embedded into the skin. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked and you nodded. With a rough pinch to your nipple you yelped and your hips jerked up towards Vil’s shaft. “Y-Yes.” You answered as he slowly bucked against the entrance, but did not slide in. The slick that was pouring out of you coated the velvety skin as he massaged himself against the plush folds of your pussy. “Do you want me to cum deep inside you? To fill you up and remind you how much I love you?” He asked as the flutter in your chest intensified. “Yes, please?” You begged as he began to rub the tip against your opening. The slight breech left you breathless as you looked up at him. Once your gazes locked, he wordlessly began to fill you as his hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you up into his lap. Only soft moans were shared as he pushed himself deep inside and nestled the tip against that very familiar bundle of nerves inside of you. 

He began a slow and steady rhythm that rocked the bed beneath you. Your hands let go of the sheets and hesitated to reach out and touch Vil. Only when he gave you a nod as a form of ‘okay’ did you rest your hands against his strong thighs. The snap of his hips and the soft smack of skin made you overwhelmed with bliss as you allowed yourself to become boneless. To become an object of pleasure for the man you adored the most. You wanted to please him, to show him how badly you wanted to be used by him. To become nothing more than an empty headed slave he can call on whenever he wants. His thrusts had become rough as he hunched over you, his braided bun falling loose as a sheet of sweat clung to his flawless skin. His cheeks flushed, his pupils huge and dilated from lust. You could stare at the sight forever. “Do you love me?” He asked with a growl following as he leaned closer and pressed his sweaty forehead against yours. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and kissed the space where your skin greeted his. “Of course I do.” You answered weakly, there was no other way to express the intense emotions you felt towards your Housewarden. “Say it.” Vil commanded as his amethyst eyes burned into yours. Sloppy thrusts and met your convulsing walls as you felt you and Vil reaching the euphoric high the both of you desperately craved whenever the two of you met. 

“I love you, Vil.”

The words left your lips as you lifted your hands from his thighs to carefully cup his face. The moans became louder and the sloppy snap off his hips became rougher as you came first. Your orgasm was amplified with the overstimulation of Vil continuing without you. But you never begged him to stop. You wouldn’t dare. You babbled and sobbed, hands going to pull at his hair as he shakily rut into you one final time. The flow of warmth deep into your womb made your eyes flutter shut and your body fell still. 

Vil slowed his hips to a complete stop as you laid limp against the mattress. “Don’t do that ever again.” The blond whispered, but you weren’t sure what he meant. The gold tresses of his hair that had fallen loose from his tightly braided bun and his apple red lipstick had become smeared across his cheek. “Do you understand me?” He asked with a soft growl as you weakly nodded. But again, you had no idea what he was referring to. A soft smile spread across your face as his lips brushed over yours. Your hands released his hair from your tight grip as Vil gently encased your lips in a short kiss. Chaste and sweet; you were craving more. “I’m glad we had this talk.” His voice ghosted over your skin as his soft pink tongue slid over your bottom lip next. Your eyes widened with shock as he cupped your face and eased the muscle into your mouth. Your heart was racing as your lips meshed together and your drool mixed with the Housewardens. 

His bright red lipstick stained the soft skin on your lips and smeared against your skin and his. You had entered a form of Nirvana you had always wanted to experience.

When Vil pulled away, his hands cupped the sides of your face as his nails began to dig into the burning skin of your cheeks. A smile of his own had formed as you felt your heart skipped and jumped in your chest. “If I catch you with that beast again, or anyone for that matter,” He whispered and pressed a kiss against your other cheek. The red makeup stained your skin among the many other kiss marks and saliva. The blond looked down at you, his gaze burning and searing your flesh; as if he were trying to engrave his name into your soul. “I’ll have no choice but to kill you.” His voice was lowered so only you could hear him and this promise. And you were happy to nod in complete understanding.

Tagged Accounts: @stygianoir @spiritanimals64-blog @fortunatelyburningaphrodisiac

[globalrebrand]

— “ MAKE-UP “  Content tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Suggestive, Un-edited. Prompt: Vil does your Halloween make-up (or) Vil does your make-up. (In case you don't celebrate Halloween)

Vil hummed, his hand traveled from your thigh to around your waist, his soft fingers touched your sensitive skin bringing you both closer than you both were before—your chest practically touching his own as his other hand fiddled with his makeup box. You could feel his hot breath linger on your neck as he searched for some sort of lipstick shade or whatever; your mind blanked on the minor details, a part of you was still confused as to how you got here, sitting on his lap as he does your makeup.  

You didn't quite expect this—not once did it occur to you, that you'd end up in this compromising situation. Vil's hands gripped your waist tighter, his nails slightly digging just a bit deeper on your sensitive skin knocking you back to reality, he muttered a harsh, "Stay still" and you paused in place.

His soft fingers gently grazed the red nail marks, as if to apologize for his previous harshness. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt something outlining your lips—'Lip liner?', you opened your eyes, only to find him staring intently back at you, his violet eyes gazing at your lips, going over the outline, you could feel his warm breath, you could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath, his lips mere inches away from your own—And then he backed away, and the next thing you felt was a cold wet tissue, wiping away some mistake he made and you could see the way his brows furrowed in slight annoyance. 

Somewhere along the lines everything blurred and the next thing you heard was; "Close your eyes", and you did, but for some odd reason it felt harder than before, your eyelids twitch as you try your best to keep them closed, you felt Vil's hands hold your face up high, his soft fingers grazing your chin pulling you upwards, and after a few moments you hear chuckling, "Why do you look so scared, like a rabbit" 

| Masterlist | Commission info | Join Taglist

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[globalrebrand]

These could be fun! Free free to request!

Humiliation Prompts

These are all presented as sfw by default (but can be interpreted otherwise if that’s your preference)

Humiliate them by:

♠ Making them beg

♠ Forcing them to strip

♠ Spitting in their mouth

♠ Making them kneel

♠ Dressing them in a degrading outfit

♠ Mocking them for involuntary reactions

♠ Forcing them to lick something off the floor

♠ Hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch

♠ Keeping their hands bound to make basic tasks difficult or impossible. Bonus: punish them for failing or making a mess

♠ Feeding them spoiled or disgusting food

♠ Hosing them down with cold water

♠ Calling them a mocking nickname or title

♠ Forcing them to crawl on their hands and knees

♠ Leaving them with obvious, hard to hide scars

♠ Branding them as a sign of ownership

♠ Forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets

♠ Altering or ruining a part of their appearance they take pride in

♠ Rendering them mute or forbidding them to speak

♠ Making them lick clean someone’s boots/shoes

♠ Assigning them menial labor/chores

♠ Showing them off as a trophy at a party. Bonus: the party is for their enemies OR former allies/coworkers

♠ Offering them up as the entertainment to party guests to do with as they please

♠ Making derogatory comments about them to others (with them in the room/in earshot) Bonus: force them to agree with these assessments

♠ Gifting them as a slave/servant to someone they formerly outranked

♠ Leaving them at the mercy of strangers in a public display (stocks, pillory, cage, chained to something, etc)

♠ Grinding their face into the ground/mud/a mess they made. Bonus: With a foot on the back of their neck or side of their head

♠ Recording them being punished/tortured/etc. Bonus: send these to friends and family OR release them publicly online

♠ Fitting them with a collar

♠ Muzzling them

♠ Making them perform tricks or skills on command