Untitled

ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.

Simply perfect. That is what Vil is in every way possible, isn't he? Not a blemish in sight with unwavering composure and confidence unmatched. Just a look from him would send someone into a coma for his sheer beauty in all forms is unmatched. In fact, just looking at him seems like an honor. All of that is true. Though there are times when even the fairest of them all crumbles in front of the beauty of his lover.

It's been along day for Vil, as it is most of the times. Managing classes with a celebrity's life isn't easy, especially not as a Housewarden. Not to mention, managing his beauty. The night is really only when he has time to unwind nowadays. His hands massage moisturizer and various other creams onto his spotless skin, hydrating it further. He tuts at himself, noticing an imperfection that no one else - even the most observant - would. His taste for excellence, his addiction for flawlessness takes a toll on him wheather he realizes it or not.

He's working away, slowly but surely - perfection cannot be rushed. It's only when he spots your reflection from the corner of the mirror that the thoughts appear. You're laying on his bed with a giddy smile, looking through a magazine - one of his new works. It's an endearing sight really. The way you're admiring him, it's different from the way others do - it's real. As if you don't have an ideal for him, as if he isn't perfect to you but simply someone who gets better with every taste. As if he's human, and that he doesn't have to be perfect. Even a fool could see how utterly in love you are with him. That does something to a man.

However, it's not only your face his brilliant eyes catch.

His observation moves from your expression to your figure. You're laying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows with your legs up and swinging leisurely. It's like you're teasing him, inviting him to take a bite of a deceivingly sweet fruit. It's as if you secretly know what you're doing.

Although he knows he shouldn't delude himself, after all you're only resting in your innocence. Unknowing of what he's concocting in his mine.

It's when you look up at him, smiling with big wholesome eyes fawning over his photo on the magazine does he approach you. You're really cheeky, praising him sincerely knowing how he begins to feel after. A stunning smile finds it's way to his gorgeous face, manicured hands caressing your hair.

You continue to blabber but all he can do is stare at your lips down to your neck. He's not one to act on impulse, especially such actions. But there are times when even he can't control himself and that only ever seems to happen around you.

He's powdery with the scent of elegance wafting around him, robe left open to invite you to him just as he's inching towards you. His violent eyes are unfocused looking at every part of you at once. It's hard to keep still and only listen to you talk when you're distracting him so. Quite odd when all you do in the moment is nothing - as if he's the one who's unable to resist temptation.

It's peculiar how he, the desire of many, is unable to satiate himself around you.

It irks him when you don't look his way when he's yearning for you, for your touch. To feel you embrace him, to let him consume you as you do the same. How is he to voice his thoughts when feeling like a chaste maiden? As if what he's thinking is wrong - he's not one to feel this way. He voices what he wants and how he wants it. So why can he not do so now?

It's in the way you move your hair showing your shoulder, the way your flimsy shorts seem to ride up as you move to face him properly. And the way you look at him, as if he's your world. What are you doing to him?

He can only lean into you, wanting to be yours for the night and every other night. His hands hold you gently, guiding you as you remain there in awe. His lips find yours, connecting in rhythmic movements. It's his invitation for you to cling to him.

It's one of the few times he lets his ugly side out, the part of him that's ravenous and selfish openly. The desire to bed you only gets stronger with every kiss, the synchronized waltz of your tongues.

It's his turn to make you depraved and beg - for you to feel even a morsel of what he's feeling. To see you arch and lose yourself in pleasure. To watch you bathe in his affection.

Tonight you can be the star of his show, in the comfort of his bedroom lights and vanity mirror.

ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.

It's not odd for Idia to be holed up in his room, his sanctuary away from normies and whatever they do. It's also not abnormal to find you holed up alongside him - knowing he doesn't feel comfortable leaving, you have no issue coming to him.

It's another day like that, as you lounge around in his room. He's gaming at the moment - fixated on winning the final level. You're simply scrolling and snacking, occasionally watching Idia's score. Meanwhile he's occasionally watching you, subtly just making sure you're there. He's not sure why he checks if you're still there, but it's comforting to see you there as if waiting for him. Wanting his company.

It's when he beats the level that he looks to you one final time, you're already looking at him. He's got that sharp-toothed grin on his face as haughty words spill from his mouth about his puny opponents.

And you're there, just looking at him and letting him ramble on and on. If this were any other time he'd become all shy and want to embrace you. But right now? It's something else.

You're all pretty and perfect, inviting him to sit next to you. It's a normal gesture between the two of you - cuddling and watching some anime together, maybe even playing a game. All you crave for is this innocent intimacy - but something's bubbling inside him, blurring his vision as he starts to notice at parts of you no one else should look at.

Why is it that he's so hot all over? His heart's thumping and all he can think about is why life doesn't have choices unlike video games. After all, how is he meant to react? What does he do?

Is it the fact that you're on his bed or maybe how you're sitting. You're on the edge, knees touching one another - yet he's looking right there, at your legs and then you all over. You're doing absolutely nothing and he just can't help look at you with the worse thoughts in his head. He feels horrible. He's already such an outcast and now he's simply proving why.

But he can't help but keeps his eyes on you, they simply won't leave. Then come the vivid pictures of you and him - and none of them are things he could voice. He should stop, maybe look away from you? That should help since looking at you on flares up his hair and stimulates parts of him. But before he knows it, you're approaching him and all he can think of is how good you'd look down on your-

His hair is tinged pink alongside his ghastly pale skin by the time you're in front of him, wrapping your hands around his neck only for him to jerk and flinch. He's all stuttering and hiding away - he can't blame you for teasing him.

You're gonna kill him someday and today might be that day with how you're taunting him. But even he has a limit. If you're able to voice what he hasn't, then you should be prepared for what you've started. You've allowed him to create a burrow in your heart and you've always stayed in his - so don't stop him now. Not when he's so desperate for you, not when you've lit the match.

You joke around about how flustered he is, and how you've been waiting all day long for him. Yet, you can't see how much he's writing in embarrassment, but then again - if you're provoking him, you must have a plan? The joke hits the target and no matter how lightly it was meant to be taken, it's the fuel that invites him right into your arms. It's a routinely played game at this point. You call and he bites the bait, only fro you the realize the weight of the consequence. How even the outwardly meek can become insistent and bold. How the flustered can make you all red and warm.

It starts with soft kisses peppered from your nape then to your jaw, hair flared bright pink the entire time - his heart's beating out of his chest but it feels so good. And when he finally kisses your lips, waiting for you to respond - that's when the dam breaks.

That small sign of permission was all he needed to guzzle up your very being.

Don't blame him anymore, because you've given him more than enough to act on for what he needs. And right now he so desperately needs you - weather that be you under him to devour or you above him to worship. Needless to say, by the end you'll be covered in more marks to count and both of you too shy to admit what just happened.

ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.

Lonesome, that is how Malleus felt with the responsibility of being the future Monarch of Briar Valley. Being a fae, he wasn't accustomed to many social cues either that often left him unsure of what he did so wrong. People would run at the sight of him or flatter him with lies - still, there wasn't a single person who approached him with the desire to understand. He wasn't only powerful, he had interests too - he wasn't invincible as many thought. What was true on the exterior might not be the same on the interior - for all the little fae inside him wanted was a friend.

He was used to solitude and fear of people that it became normalcy. That was before you entered the picture. So utterly unafraid that it was foolish, so stupidly silly. At first he doubted you, only to realize that he couldn't be more wrong. You weren't sure who he was, you even called him a silly name - that bravery of yours cracked open a part of him he'd hidden for so long. The side of him that wanted company had finally recieved what he wanted in the form of his "Child of Man". It wasn't too much time before he'd given you all of him - from friend to lover, it was fate.

It's not easy to understand you, though he wouldn't trade anything else it. He truly finds happiness in deciphering you, what you mean by the things you say. It's not easy, but it brings him joy. Oh, and when you listen to him? He simply melts.

Though it isn't this smooth always, especially when he's not sure if he's hurting you. You're a first for him, and you're meant to be his last. You're his as he is yours. However, the sentiment alone doesn't make it simple - he doesn't want for you to feel scared. Not of him, never of him.

That is a reason for restraint, to keep his carnal yearning a secret - closed off and shut away in his mind. A part he's terrified that you'd fear if he were to let out fully. But there are times that even he cannot control the calling, where his shameless love simply seeps out.

It always creeps out during small interactions. When you're studying in his chambers, all quiet and focused. It's not what you're doing but how it's you doing it. You're simply existing, focused with your pretty eyes set on the book, as your hands scurry to write down notes.

And then you look up at him, offering him a smile. Maybe it's small to you but not to him. For you to be so fearless, they have repercussions in the form of affection.

Maybe it's how much smaller you are in stature or maybe strength, maybe it's how different you are - but those simple facts give him a rush. And then it's the manner in which your hair falls down, the manner in which you absentmindedly shove it behind your ear. The manner in which your lashes flutter and the silly expressions you make - one's he's left in awe looking at. How could someone be so lovely?

It would be so much better if it was only awe and endearment. But It isn't. It's something ugly, unruly, and beastly. Monstrous feelings gnaw at his heart when he looks at you. He wants to tear you apart and consume your heart, feel the beating from inside you.

Here you are presented to him, in his chambers. Do you really not know the implications? Then comes how you're sitting, so carelessly that he can see every curve and every slope of your figure. It's temptation wrapped in naivety.

He can only step towards you, catching your attention. Can you truly blame him for acting like this? For wanting to pin you down and make sweet love to you? To become one with you? To see how you'd struggle and whine when he teases?

It starts with a kiss before his tongue meshes with yours. He only wishes to monopolize you whole, leave you breathless and trembling. Simply trust him and let yourself go, it's alright.

If it's truly so wrong why do you ignite him so? You shan't play with fire, you must know. It's a given that you need to take responsibility for your actions, look at how feral you've made him. He can't wait much longer.

And when it's over he'll be sure to care for his lover who's sore all over, body covered in markings he'd been dying to carve - soft hues of red and purple scattered all over, blemishes left from suckling and nipping.

You'll melt into him as he melts into you, both becoming one.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!