#rook hunt x vill schoenheit x reader

[cvlutos]

♡ V.S & R.H | DICK | SMUT [TW: SUB!MALE READER, SPITTING]

Vil wants you to feel beautiful while he sits impossibly close, the buttons of your shirt undone and sliding off your shoulders and arms, chest littered with dark love bites, Vil's pretty fingers forcing you to look at yourself, while Rook buries his face between your thighs, eyes rolling to the back of his skull everytime he chokes on your cock. He just loves the feeling. Loves the way your twitch and smear precum along the flat of his tongue. But he also loves looking up, half-lidded green eyes staring into yours, while Vil places a string of lovely kisses along your neck, often times grasping Rook by the hair, forcing a muffled groan from his throat, forcing the huntsman to still his ministrations for you to answer the actor's questions.

'Do you like it?'

'Is he going deep enough?'

'No. I can't understand your mumbling, you have to speak clearly.'

Each words sending shivers down your spine, and if you answer oh so correctly, he pull Rook off your dripping cock and graciously spit a gob of saliva, letting Rook eagerly replace hot mouth along your length. Loving the ache in his knees, and the sting of Vil's nails, muffling incoherent french words, words that Vil to whisper into your ear, mocking—teasing...

'Permettez-moi de vous goûter...' Allow me to taste you...

'Pour te faire sentir si bien...' To make you feel so good...

'S'il te plaît...' Please....

When you cum for a moment it surprises them both, eyes wide as you stutter on your breath, spurts of your thick seed painting Rook's face and tongue, that he takes so greedily. To see you come undone, with Vil's careful movement, using a nearby towel to wipe Rook's face, whilst planting a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Oh how good you are to them.

[oepionie]

—"IT WAS JUST TWO LOVERS" various

💭masterlist

⊹ [ tags ] — hurt/comfort fluff, insecurities, mentions of overthinking, past relationship, they are down bad◞

HE LEISURELY PEPPERS KISSES against your cheek, hands dragging up and down your sides as you giggle at his saccharine affections. Both of you were entangled in bed, legs and arms drawn together as you had fleeting conversations about whatever came to mind. 

"First love? Is that a term back in your world?" He murmurs, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck. Your lover wraps his arms tight around you, pulling your body flush against his.

A tender laugh leaves your lips as you thread your fingers through his hair. "Yes, that's a term. It's the first person you've ever loved. That one person that you will never forget. It's special since their love will leave an imprint on your heart, which will be there for all of eternity."

"I see." He hums, a forthright tone settling onto his tongue. "Well, in all honesty, you certainly wouldn't be my first love."

Oh.

Hand halting its ministrations in his hair, a bitter and agonizing feeling creeps up your chest as you force out a laugh. "I-Is that so?"

Well...perhaps you should have expected this. It was a thought you didn't want to admit to for the longest time. It only fueled your insecurities and left you feeling vulnerable, spiralling into a dishevelled mess of crying and overthinking.

Perhaps it was not so surprising, you lament.

He was a prince straight out of a fairy tale. Surely he has loved and has been loved by many other before? An uncomfortable silence followed soon after as you tried to muster up a response but couldn't. Your voice lodged itself in your throat, words failing you. 

"I think the term has no merit to it, anyway." He murmurs, a soft smile gracing his lips. Your lover gazed at you affectionately as you blinked down at him and tilted your head in confusion. His love tinted stare pours over every detail of your face, observing how strands of hair fell over your cheeks, how your eyebrows drew together or how your lips pulled itself into a frown—he delighted in all of it. 

"If I had love so impactful and grand as the first, why would I need another love?" Brushing his thumb against the corners of your lips, he eased your frown away. "First love, hm? That would be you then, dearest. Though, it would be far more fitting to say that you're my only one true love."

✩— MALLEUS, JADE, Lilia, VIL, ROOK, Jamil

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @rainybeebs

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[mariposa666haruka]

Rook & Yuu/MC,dancing together: Love is an open dooooooor!

Vil, shouting from afar : THEN CLOSE IT.

[cvlutos]

"A Chair for You"

| 01.15.23 | 0.5 K | All Audiences |

Vil Schoenheit X GN!Reader X Rook Hunt

| Fluff | Implied Vil x Rook | Poly | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |

T.Manor.Notes: Literally broke my back writing this. Cause you deserve it. <3 @v-anrouge

The changing of seasons. So frequent, yet so unnoticed.

Cradling his delicate hands, slowly jogging across the campus grounds, he’ll be late. His bag tucked under his arm, and his scarf flutters in the wind. It’s unlike him to be in a hurry. To be late without proper notice. Yet he has no excuse, no proper one, then simply getting swept away in conversation. You had greeted him, asking how he slept and chatted away about what you had planned. You spoke leisurely, in no hurry to make it to class, with relaxed shoulders and a pleased, comfortable smile. He found himself enamored with how easygoing you made yourself within his presence.

A part of him liked it.

To be treated as if he was merely a friend to you. A friend. He exhales. He doesn’t regret sending the short amount of time, yet as the cold flush his cheeks red, as he slips into the school building, he’s sure to make you pay back in kind. He skips over steps gracefully, making sure no one was around before reaching the second floor. Slowing down upon seeing a familiar brown hat, with a large gleaming white feather.

“Good Morning Roi de Poison~” He can nearly roll his eyes, taking off his gloves as Rook opens the door, folding them and tucking the gloves in his bag, before removing his scarf and coat, which Rook takes eagerly, as they both move to the only open seats in the back. “I’m not late?” Vil’s eyes glance over the classroom, not spotting the teacher, which irks him a bit. He jogged for nothing.

“Did you forget we’re joining classes for the day~” There’s a slight edge to his voice, and Vil can’t help but hum in thought, slightly leaning back in his seat, still with perfect posture. His eyes scan across the room, before landing on Rook, who’s merely watching. His eyes half-lidded with his cheek in his palm, his lips pulled into a lazy smile. Vil raises a brow, to which causes the Huntsman to lean forward.

“Tu es juste magnifique~” Vil forces a neutral expression, muttering a soft ‘I know’ which only causes Rook to chuckle. Yet he doesn’t falter, grabbing the Housewarden’s hand, and placing a chaste kiss upon his knuckles, murmuring against his velvety skin.

“Tant que vous le savez, je suis heureux.” Vil opens his lips to speak, leaning closer to Rook before the sound of fresh voices broke whatever world they were in.

Grim, Ace, Deuce, and you…

Their eyes lock on you, watching you and the other students file into the classroom, taking different seats. You sit with your friends, yet you seem to search the classroom before spotting both Vil and Rook, waving at them with a smile. Lilac eyes widen for a split moment, dipping his chin to you in acknowledgment before Rook sends back a wave with a large smile, which doesn’t seem to satisfy the huntsman cause before Vil can even stop what’s happening, Rook is already halfway across the room. Scaring half the surrounding students of his sudden appearance.

He watches you talk with Rook. Whatever being said makes you laugh, and Vil can feel his lips quirk, almost as if he was there. His eyes drift over to the empty seat, one for him, one for rook, and one day—. He rises from his seat, faux annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you and your group.

—A chair for you.

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