The late afternoon sunlight sifted through the curtains like threads of pale gold, soft as a half-remembered dream, and in that light Vil held the porcelain cup with the grace of someone who had mastered the art of appearing untouchable. He lifted it to his lips first—of course he did—with the languid, deliberate poise of a man who believed beauty must be lived as much as performed.
He sipped. A quiet, intimate motion.
A faint imprint of his gloss glimmered on the rim like the echo of a kiss.
Then he extended the cup toward you.
“Here,” he said, but his voice—usually smooth, crystalline—trembled in a way only someone watching closely would ever catch. “Taste it. Notice the floral undertones; they unfold gently, like—” he hesitated for a heartbeat too long, “—like a quiet confession.”
Your hand brushed his when you accepted the cup. His fingers, often cool with cultivated composure, flinched—a small traitorous motion, as though your touch had burned straight through the lacquered calm he so desperately wore.
Slowly you lifted the cup, and Vil watched—oh, he watched with an intensity he tried to hide by tilting his chin, by pretending to study the way light danced on the tea, by folding his arms in that practiced, statuesque posture. But no amount of posture could conceal the way the breath caught in his throat when your lips met the place where his had been moments before.
The moment stretched—long and trembling—like a violin note held at the edge of breaking. For an author would have written it as a feverish sentence, the kind that unravels a soul: that in that fragile instant Vil felt the world contract to a single point, a single thought, a single unbearable awareness that something in him stirred, not with the sharp theatrics of vanity but with something frighteningly beautiful, something he could not polish nor control.
“You—” Vil started, then swallowed, the word dying on his tongue. He forced his voice steady, sculpted it back into elegance. “Well? What do you think?”
But his eyes gave him away. That storm of violet—wide, too bright, betraying a softness he could not repress—watched your lips with a reverence bordering on agony.
You whispered gently with a smile, “It tastes nice.”
Vil exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for an eternity.
“Good,” he murmured, but the word was hoarse, frayed at the edges. He looked away swiftly, as though beauty—your beauty in that small shared moment—was something too tender for him to withstand directly.
Though he straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin again, the gesture was almost pitiful in its fragile pride, you still caught it:
The tiny, blooming smile he tried so very hard to hide.
A confession in the shape of a curve.
A heartbeat disguised as poise.
He had failed to remain untouched— and in that failure, Vil Schoenheit had never looked more human.
a/n 🍨: it’s 00:35, the rain is doing ASMR on my window, and i’m supposed to be studying for my finals—but NO, my brain said “challenging? absolutely not.” so here i am committing academic sins and writing vil instead~ anyway this is a quick read before i go back to pretending i’m preparing for finals🌀 after my exams i’m writing a sebek solo fic because that man’s lungs deserve a novella.
Vil Sch- whatever tf x GN!Reader !!! Tho technically it's js reader & Cater talking
Warnings: Cussing, bad grammer, typos probably, i'll edit this trmw, lovesick!reader, lovesick!reader and Cat talking, they talk weird, reader may be a lil annoying to some idk, reader not specified to be Yuu, reader is gender neutral but Cater foes call them/you girl once or twice, Rook Hunt mention.
Vil doesn't actually appear i'm sorry, i didn't have the budget to get him to be in the fic lmao /silly /j(est)
Crow Delivered Letter: I wanted to write something. I have to go to sleep so i'll look for typos tomorrow lmao. I wanted to post something tonight but don't have time to continue, maybe i'll post more to it idk bro. I love Cater, chat. Gimme more dumbass lowkey cringey reader. I kinda talk like this idk how ppl like it lmao. Alao yes, even in this i'm spreading a teeny tiny bit of Vil x Cater propaganda. Js a lil. I adore Vil x Cater. Also Leona x Cater. Maybe even Leona dates Cater, Cater dates Vil as well, and Vil dates Rook as well👀👀👀👀 Anygays, sorry for yapping. Hope someone enjoys👍👍👍
"CATER DIAMOND!!!!" You yell as you burst Cater's door open, probably breaking a hinge. Oh well, you've got more important things to talk about.
"BWA- AH SHIT FUCK!!-" Cater calmly says before falling off his bed. You slam his door close, a little more gentle this time, and walk over to the other side of the bed where he is.
"Cay-Cay. Cater. Diamond. Cay-Dia. Upperclassmen. That Ginger Bitch. Cray-Cray Cay-Cay. Cray-Cray Cay-Cay who don't slay-slay. I need. Help." You tell him before jumping back first onto his bed.
"Bro. You made me crack my phonescreen. I hate you." Cater gets up and walks to his desk and opens a drawer.
"Damn, okay shawty. I was gon tell you some juicy shit but aight. I guess i won't now." You reply, feigning hurt by sighing and sitting up with a hand upon your heart.
"Ohhh???? Wait okay. If the tea is hot then i'll forgive you." Cater takes out a little box and pulls out a screen protector.
"So... Y'know how i kinda have a teeny tiny crush on the absolutely gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, lovely, breathtaking Vil Sch-.. Yeah i dunno how to say his name." You kick your legs back and forth while talking. You can't kick them too back though because of the bed. It's a really comfy bed actually.
"Girl, your crush on him is as big as Grim's stomach. Also his beauty is probably braincell taking cuz daaaayum. He got you in a chokehold. Tho i don't blame you. Honestly, if he didn't hate me so much, i'd probably have a major crush on him too." Cater puts a hand to his heart with his eyes close, acting hurt.
"Haha L+ratio+gets no Vils+loser+uhhh... stereotypical social media obsessed teenager." Cater pouts at you but says nothing. So you speak again. "So anywho... Vil kissed me on the cheek."
Cater stopped, (GENTLY) dropped his phone with a newly placed screen protector, and turner to look at you. ".....WHAT."
"Yeah, i know right? He's totes in love with me for realzies, dude." You lay back on your arm, flip your hair if you can, and smirk.
"Girly pop WHAT??? Explain, hello??? Context????" Cater immediately jumps onto the bed on your other side. You roll over to face him and start talking.
"Okay so y'know how sometimes i'll help out the movie club Vil's in?"
"Uh-huh, uh-huh." Cater nods along. Give him sime popcorn and it'd be like watching a movie.
"So basically, i helped him with his makeup and outfit today because.. He asked me to. I was about to leave so we could hang out but he kissed me on the cheek and said thank you for helping him. I also helped put up the decorations and set the stage 'n what not. I had to quickly walk outta there cuz i was NAWT about to fall to my knees and curl up into a little ball in front of THE Vil sch- whatever the fuck bro." You lay on your back and sigh dreamily, thinking back to what happened.
"Bro wants to take his last name but don't even know how to pronounce, what the fuuuck." Cater jokes, lightly laughing.
"Maaaaaaaan. Fuck you broski. Afph. I'm so in love i can't bro. Rook seems so normal now what the fuck." You hide your face in your hands.
"Oh daaaaamn. You know you got it down bad when even Rook Hunt seems normal for Vil." Cater pokes the but of your cheek still showing.
Okay so yall know that one trope where person a and person b are childhood friends n person b moves away and then the two get reunited years later when they're adults and person a is going insane becuz "Holy fuckin shitballs, they're hot."
Sometimes one of them bad a crush on the other as well n shit
Anywho, THAT BUT WITH VIL AND READER.
Maybe after Vil moved to Jack's town/city (idk how old he was tho which sucks) n Vil met both Jack and Reader that day
Maybe reader has a crush on Vil but Vil thinks they're both two young so he declines or reader never says anything and just watches him in awe
Ooh, ooh! Maybe reader had bad confidence n anxiety so that's why they admired Vil so much and so it's even better when in NRC
Imagine terrified of everything child!reader who absolutely adored child!Vil and then moved and promised themself (himself ig cuz NRC is an all boys school) to be better so someday when reader finds Vil, he can finally be good enough for him
Then at NRC, reader gets sorted into Pomefiore (maybe the same year Yuu arrives idk yet) and Vil is like "...Y/N????"
Lmao Jack and reader getting into NRC at the same time is so fun
Maybe reader moved to Sunset Savannah amd met Rook and Ruggie, maybe even Leona if they were unlucky
Shy to confident (and hot)!reader x Vil hoykapdnsmsodjdjdrb
warnings : reader has some insecure moments ( as we all would with vil ). happy ( late ) birthday vil ! ♡
there was always an overwhelming sense of pride you felt as a friend of the vil schoenheit — not just as a personal label, but given to you by the man himself. with such title, you got the behind scenes of all he’d share; movies, shows, modelling, anything and everything vil did, you most likely knew about. even if he couldn’t tell you in person, he’d call you, or shoot you a text – sometimes nothing more than a few words telling you to be ready with face masks, or a simple picture of him on set in a beautiful gown or fitted suit. you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little special when you thought about who vil was to the public.
though he meant much more to you than his image. if he thought of you as a friend, you thought of him as your best friend — always giving advice that saved your ass more times than possible to count, letting you in on all the best fashion and beauty tips that nobody except vil probably knew, he was everything someone dreamed of having by their side. as a friend. which, was enough for you — you had to think that, to convince yourself that your absolutely beautiful friend with a face sculpted by gods, and hair that flowed and was as precious as ichor, there was no room for romance when it came to him. it made you embarrassed to even entertain the idea, that vil schoenheit could like you back — when you’re that perfect you’re able to have anyone.
but, with such perfection comes problems — the biggest one for you right now being what the hell you should gift him for his birthday. vil had everything he could need, custom-made skincare, perfectly tailored clothing, madol galore, you couldn’t offer much except your best of wishes, all the products needed to blend his smoothies, and the entire night reserved for him, if he wished to take it. you only hoped it was enough along with your little surprise with streamers.
and, to your delight, vil seems happy with your little display – of course careful to not get any strands in his hair and mess it up – and gives you a smile, patting your head as he treats you to a compliment. “i expected something like this, but it was still lovely nonetheless.” with how many people have been coming up to him, and definitely messaging him, vil’s probably been through it all today — every kind of birthday wish and greeting, it was only right for him to think of what you might be planning. and though it may have disappointed you a bit to not surprise him, you let his compliment go to your heart, and returned that fond smile that made your face go hot. i’m glad you liked it.
feeding you with even more happiness, vil tells you how he’d freed up the day to celebrate, and looks at you expectedly, practically forcing your little offer out of you — which pulls a dramatic sigh from him, complaining of how he needs nothing more than to relax with you, throwing his arm over your shoulder as he leads you through the pomefiore dormitory. once again, you’re feeling special — while everybody waits to see if he’ll allow a birthday party to be thrown for him, and to be graced by his presence, you get to be by his side and have a private and personal celebration with vil.
he seems to have already expected this to happen, as the second you reach his bedroom, there’s pairs of pajamas awaiting the two of you on his bed and the face scrubs with your usual spa headbands sitting on his vanity. it makes you smile as he excuses you to the restroom, placing your pair in your hands and telling you to not keep him waiting — he’s the birthday boy after all. and your smile turns into soft laughter, even when he allows you to go first, he still rushes you. you wonder if anyone else has ever seen this side of him. if anyone has ever had this kind of friendship with him. it’s selfish, but you hope you’re the only he’s trusted like this, but maybe that’s simply because of the racing of your heart you get whenever he treats you so kindly — you know other’s like him too, but if anybody else were to know vil like this, they’d fall in love too. especially as pathetically as you have.
you’re shaken from these pestering thoughts at vil’s knock, asking if everything’s alright — and you’re glad he can’t see you with how hot your face burns from embarrassment. you give a very reassuring ‘mhm!’, and rush the clothes on and throw your former in a bin that he’d gotten just for when you come over. you’re sure you look a little messy with the tut vil gives, smoothing over your arms as he tells you he’ll be quick, and to get everything ready like usual. even being his friend, his beauty was intimidating, as was the way affection seemed to come naturally to him — mainly, you’d guessed, from his caring nature (even if it wasn’t a nature that wasn’t easily made out). his soft face and calming touches put you in a constant state of relaxation around him, though your overwhelming crush made you tense at even the slightest action your heart deemed as romantic, even if your brain argued it was friendly fondness.
you tell him he looks lovely when he steps out (you’ve learned to say something other than ‘nice’) — a satin slip accompanied by a short robe, and you guess it’s a set with how similar they look. vil smiles at you again, and you wonder how many times he’s done that today – more than usual, you think, and it makes you warm and giddy. never could you get enough of that expression, even if it’s greedy (though he’d scold you if you said that). his hands are soft as ever, smooth skin and slim fingers with perfectly filed nails applying the mask to your face, you feel sad to close your eyes and miss him, but you let vil work his magic — and afterwards, it’s your turn. you feel nervous, something you have felt rarely when doing things like this for him, and your heartbeat fills your ears as you compare how awful your hands must feel in comparison to his. really, you should moisturize more often like he’s told you to. yet, your worries are quelled when he opens his mouth, “your hands feel nice.” maybe vil is a mind reader, or maybe your fingers are shaking as they rub over his pretty features.
more and more time passes, until the sun fades into the distance, and allows the moon to take it’s reign. your skin feels blessed by an angel (which, in a way, it has been), and your mouth and stomach feel delighted from his smoothie blends. again, vil slides his arm over your shoulder, lightly nudging you to follow along with him and go to the balcony. even if it’s colder, and your nightwear isn’t the best for such conditions, you happily trail after him when he’s moved his arm back to his side — there’s just something about vil that makes you want to follow. maybe it’s to watch and admire him, like rook does, or maybe it’s to have the chance to be something in his life. something more than what you are.
there’s twinkling in his eyes as he stares on, his beautiful hand holding his beautiful face, and you feel jealous of it. the night sky is lucky to have such a perfect man admiring it — and you are also lucky, to be able to stare and adore your own star. and it feels oddly similar, both something you will never be close to, but you will always see it — vil is far above you in every regard, and you wonder why he’d chosen you to be such a good friend of his when he undoubtedly had a million options of those who’d die to just be within his proximity.
your mouth seems to move on its own, a few stray tears accompanying your words as you slip out how you love him. just a little whisper — but it’s loud enough to reach his ears, and he whips his head around so fast you can’t believe he’d make such a movement. “do you mean that?” his voice isn’t accusatory, but questioning, and you almost feel like letting yourself go to cry. he’s going to let you down gently, you know that, and you hope he doesn’t let you go completely — but you still nod knowing that’s a possibility.
he sighs, shaking his head with a small chuckle, and it feels like your heart is going to shatter. how much of an idiot you were to think-- “Sevens. you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear you finally say that.”
--that vil schoenheit didn’t love you just as much.
The hall candelabras burned gently, comforting orange hues warming the stone walls. To the average visitor they’d be quite intimidating, but not to you.
Not when your dear boyfriend is the one ruling over the castle. Housewarden Vil Schoenheit. One of the most critical and exigent students of NRC. With a name that demands respect and adoration.
He holds a sharp cold gaze and as you peer from the kitchen doorway…
You bet you can see him scowling at the cookbook right in front of him. Truly a frightening figure.
His once pristine apron now covered in smudges of flour and cream and the wooden spoon in his hand looks all but ready to be thrown at the wall in what could be assumed as frustration.
“…maybe I should’ve just bought a cake….” you hear him mutter. And unfortunately, a chuckle escapes you. Barely audible… if the kitchen wasn’t almost empty. “I see you find my predicament quite funny, dear.” The blond acknowledges your presence.
“I’m sorry, Vil, but this is quite new!” you excuse. “I wasn’t expecting to find you fighting with a baking recipe this late at night.”
“…I wouldn’t be doing that if my schedule wouldn’t have been filled up at the very last minute. I had plans on mastering this recipe.” He tries to give you a small apologetic look.
“That’s alright! Your effort is very sweet. I appreciate it.” A smile graces his lips at your reassurance.
“You are the sweet one. And I assure you, I have made many plans for your birthday as well as contingency plans.” and you chuckle again.
“So, what is the recipe that’s giving you a hard time? Maybe I can help you?” you inquire.
“…I’m afraid it is a secret.” He responds solemnly, but the small smile playing on his lips betrays his playfulness.
“A secret you say… I believe I saw a few lemons on the counter.” you counter, pointing at the yellow fruits.
“Perhaps I just wanted to make some lemonade.”
“You really don’t want to admit it huh…”
“I will admit it when the result is perfect. Until then you’ll have to be patient.” You pout and Vil can’t help but laugh.
“Not fair.”
“I believe it is fair. Now, if you promise to wait patiently, I promise I will reward you with as many kisses as you want. Does that sound good to you, my dear?”
“Hmmmm… as many kisses as I want, are you sure?” you give the blond a mischievous smile.
“Without a shadow of a doubt.”
“Good then!” you turn to leave “But you also have to promise you’ll eat the lemon cake with me!” and with that you dash out of the kitchen, leaving you stunned, yet happy boyfriend to return to his battle with the kitchen utensils.
note: this gotta be my fave vil piece ive ever written god damn i think this is me at my peak with writing. ill never write so well again and that sucks 💀 this is like 2.4k words and i swear half of it is vils outfit description /j someone also tell me why this is becoming a vil cantered blog LMAO
warning: slightly suggestive? bit of kissing at the end but nothing explicit! some jealousy that could be interpreted as slightly yandere/toxic but not really. gn!reader
synopsis: i cannot be bothered coming up with something elaborate after writing this. -> you're in a club. you dance w a random person. vil sees you. lights camera action bestie, the stage is yours to share and exit to the very end.
reblogs much appreciated, mwah 💞💓
He's already had too much Hennessy, he knew it. But looking at you through his translucent, violet sun glasses (perfectly matching his alluring eyes) he couldn't help but want to drink you in even more. It was no surprise you were here, in the same damn exclusive club as him, dancing with some nobody - no chemistry, no feelings attached.
He gripped the glass tighter, sharp lavender nails digging into his palm enough to leave marks. The sight was nothing short of infuriating, and he wanted to do nothing more but to rip you away from the leech vying for your attention when it should only be on him. Slamming the drink onto the table with a low growl, he stood up, all eyes immediately on him.
And why wouldn't they be? As always, he was the best dressed on the scene - the rich lilac, laced, mini slip-dress perfectly hugging his curves and off shoulder matching bolero cardigan accentuating his clavicles. And with every click of his six inch plum coloured t-strap d'orsay platforms (perfectly matching the beat of the current song) he grew more and more aware of the irony of the scene; virtually everyone was admiring his form, none of whom he would spare a single glance, but you.
Golden, diamond shaped earrings jangling as he walked (something he found rather irritating the more he focused on it), Vil tucked his purse closer to his side with a nonchalant flip of his platinum blonde locks. Normally, he'd feel very confident with his stature and mannerisms, but the way you still haven't graced him with even a single look, he felt it diminish. Oh, how he hated, down-right despised the effect you had on him! What right did you, so insignificant- ah no, that'd be too harsh considering he only ever silently sought out your approval and affection, but he'd digress. What right did you have making him feel this worthless, when he has never looked better? Never felt better?
The première of this new movie, Vil being the lead protagonist, was supposed to be the best fucking night of his life! He'd already strolled the red carpet as if he owned the event, knowing damn well it wasn't the truth because even then he was only seeking your eyes and finding them to be on anything but him. How could you disregard him so coldly, even now as he was approaching your form, more restless than ever?
"[Name], fancy seeing you here of all places," voice levelled, Vil addressed you directly; he wanted you to feel nervous under his gaze once you turned, it's what you deserve after causing him this much distress when it was supposed to be his big night. His official debut into the world of heroism.
"Ah, Schoenheit. Of course you'd run into me," he absolutely hated your wording, you were making him seem desparate - and although he was, you had no right even alluding to such thing!
"Disregarding that, it's quite rude not facing someone when they're speaking to you," he felt his nerves almost snap, seeing you turn around only to grace him with a teasing smirk, head tilted and eyes full of recognition.
"What, you miss me checking you out?" you licked your bottom lip, and it drove him almost as insane as your biting remark.
"I have the whole world focused on me, the last thing I'd need is you 'checking' me out," he rolled his eyes, shimmery gold eyeshadow accentuating the gesture.
"And here I thought we'd finally get some privacy so I could admire you," you laughed, and it brought him great satisfaction seeing the person behind you narrow their eyes in discontent. Without so much as a word, they slinked away with a small click of their tongue, something Vil would comment on in a later interview just out of spite. Was it petty? Maybe, but no one disrespects him and gets away with it - especially if they dare affiliate themselves with you.
"Is that what you were hoping for?" Vil raised a perfectly done eyebrow, crossing his arms in the process. He loved the way your eyes momentarily travelled to his chest before meeting his again.
"Sure, we can go with that if it soothes your ego," you looked to the left, observing the crowd watching the interaction with great interest before narrowing your eyes at the person who walked away from you. It irked him that you cared enough about that leech to even remember dancing with them, but your annoyance at them made it worth it - it was a sign you wouldn't seek them out at the very least!
"Interesting you'd say that, seeing your own just got shattered by . . . who was that again? One of the background characters who couldn't act to save their own life?" he knew his perfect, award winning smile would irritate you as always - it was both a great pleasure and a disdain seeing you vexxed by the accusation.
"You're the one who interrupted me, you know," you placed a hand on your hip, staring Vil down (well, up), and his eyes couldn't help but rake over the upper half of your body. He knew it was probably the alcohol doing most of the thinking, but coupled with the ultraviolet lighting , he just couldn't help but wonder how good you'd feel against him in that moment - away from prying eyes of course.
"I did you a favour dear, I assume you've seen them seizing up our director just then?" you merely shrugged at the assertion, instead focusing on your perfectly done nails.
"Yeah I figured they'd try him next, anything for the headlines speculating who they're fucking, no?" you smiled once you finished your unnecessary examination, looking at Vil once more. He couldn't help but let out a low chuckle at the accusation, so genuine it turned a few heads your direction once more. And oh did Vil absolutely relish the envious stares directed your way, knowing damn well none of them could take your place.
"Very bold statement, you do know it's going to make the news and affect my own reputation?" he leaned in, whispering directly into your ear and yet all you could focus on was the gold rimmed necklace with the initials of your first and last name. Once he pulled away, Vil simply smiled - the way you suddenly flushed up made him somewhat giddy. There was no way in hell you'd even direct your gaze on anything other than him for the rest of the night, and the countless rumours of this encounter coupled with the accessory were certainly going to keep you up at night.
"W-well . . . With what you're pulling right now, I could really say the same," he found your aggrevated stutter endearing, simply shrugging as if unaffected by anything you do when the contrary applied.
"You're acting as if it isn't going to be good publicity, with your role as the lead romantic interest, this could be good for both of us," Vil knew you couldn't disagree with this, watching as for once you tried coming up with something to dspute the statement, to no avail.
"Whatever, I've had too much to drink to deal with this," you sighed out, beginning to walk away from him. This of course, wouldn't do - you were once again making him seem as if he were the one that should be following after you.
"Right, goodnight [Name]," he nodded at your back, beginning to turn around only to stop short once he noticed you turn your head, eyes brimming with confusion; it was perfect, you didn't expect a single thing and fell straight for the bait!
" . . . Oh," you furrowed your eyebrows, so softly no one but him would catch on. He was so used to seeing and observing you that by now, Vil had perfectly memorised each and every one of your gestures and mannerisms. This, although something he prided himself on as he was quite perceptive, was simply maddening. His hyper-awareness of having you on his mind too much and for way too long didn't help this fact either.
"What is it?" he was going to get a straightforward answer from you for a change, and he realised you knew it from the little twitch of your lips. You certainly weren't an easy read, to the outsiders of course.
"Well, I just thought . . ." you were reluctant to voice your thoughts, coaxing him into softening his features as silent encouragement - something you picked up on after a few brief seconds.
"I just thought you might want to come somewhere more quiet, with me" you almost whispered, no doubt letting the alcohol affect some of your judgement. Under normal circumstances, Vil knew you'd probably make more sassy remarks but this? You weren't even attempting to make your tone seem insincere, face devoid of your usual show of defiance to anything he does. Such simple action, and yet it had his pulse quicken by too much of a large margin to be considered a normal reaction.
"On second thought, that seems like the perfect remedy for my oncoming headache," he let a faux smile overtake his face, walking closer and closer up to you, until your arms were brushing against each other. To anyone else, it'd simply seem as though the club was too full, but you both knew the intimacy that came with the action - Vil found it unnerving, just how warm it made his face feel when he's already kissed you countless times, both in practice and for the official filming of the scenes. But he did suppose this was something done out of one's volition, so who could realistically fault him for feeling this way?
"You know, absolutely no one uses the corner booths, even though they're all secluded from the main body of the building and perfect to hide away," you spoke up, rather shyly for someone of your disposition, but Vil found it absolutely delightful. Everything he'd done in an effort to get you to himself was finally paying off.
"Well, this is a club for a reason. Most people don't come here to sit around," he purposefully brushed his fingers against yours, the cold, no doubt expensive jewelled rings causing goosebumps to erupt all over your arm.
"Hah, surely they get tired at some point," you playfully rolled your eyes as the both of you walked through a dark archway, music slowly fading to a pleasant, muted buzz.
"Alcohol seems to have the opposite effect it's supposed to when you're clubbing, you'll come to learn soon enough," Vil flashed you a smirk, his cherry red lips catching your attention momentarily before you glanced away. He wondered if he should be happy at your sudden change of personality- was this the real you or just another elaborate show? Either way, he loved it.
"Are you implying something there, Schoenheit?" your teasing, accusatory remark made him click his tongue in a faux display of displeasure before he replied with his own, "Must you analyse every one of my statements?"
"It's not my fault they're usually loaded," your genuine giggle almost made him break the façade.
"How flattering you think me this complex," your smile dropped at that before you turned to fully face Vil, almost catching him off guard as he stopped to mirrror your action with intrigue painting his lilac irises.
"You are," barely two words and he could feel his breath hitch - and the worst part, he didn't even know why! Was it the lack of people around that made this moment feel so intimate? Or was it the courtesy of the dim room with its scarlet lighting making it seem like some romantic scene from a movie?
"You know . . . I still don't understand," you started to speak, voice low yet sincere. He felt himself drawing in a breath but before he could ask anything you spoke up yet again, "Am I overthinking it . . . ?"
"Overthinking what?" it was a miracle he could even speak clearly with how intently you were observing him. He knew he looked perfect, but with your gaze boring so deeply into him, he felt like you could see every flaw - he can't recall a time he felt so vulnerable.
"Ah . . . Nevermind. Ignore me, I wasn't thinking straight," your sudden shake of the head popped the bubble of tension you both felt. Vil felt his eyebrows furrow, a slight pout forming on his face.
"No. You will tell me," he asserted with a hardened resolve, coming ever closer to you as you backed up; his step forward, your step back. Rinse and repeat. Yet when your back had finally hit the ebony wall, you averted your gaze instead of saying anything.
"[Name], I'm serious, don't make me pry it out a different method," Vil leaned in closer to you, grabbing your chin gently to make you look right at him. He'd be damned if he let you slip away now, just when you were about to reveal everything.
"Are you serious, though?" your disappointed gaze had his heart momentarily shatter and before his emotions got the better of him, you once again murmured before he could even breathe, "about me . . .?"
His lips parted, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt speechless. Was there even a way for him to convey just how serious he was about you using words, using actions, using feelings alone? Vil could physically feel the pressure of the tension pushing down onto him, and his grip on you loosened.
"I-I see," you closed your eyes in defeat at the silence, and in that very moment he hated himself more than ever.
"I am. Believe me, I am so very serious, so very sure about you. Forgive my silence, I didn't expect to . . . " he trailed off, not thinking straight when you graced him with the sight of your brilliant eyes once more. The surprised flush of your cheeks made him feel slightly nervous; his feelings were out in the open, but would you reciprocate?
He didn't need to ponder the question too long, for in the next moment and without any hesitation, you were pulling him flush against you in an effort to connect your lips. He found himself tilting his head, slipping his sunglasses off with one hand before abandoning them and his purse both on the ground. It didn't matter they were both expensive and about to be ruined, not when the price of your feelings would be too disrespectful to compare to some lousy materialistic items he could replace later.
His hands found purchase on your waist, gently caressing the curvature in an effort to memorise every inch; the way you leaned into him more had him ignoring his burning lungs as they cried out for oxygen. With the way you felt against him, Vil only wanted to breathe you in; everything else be damned. He couldn't deny the disappointment when you had pulled away, but the sight of your burning face and lidded eyes made it worth breaking away anyway.
"I- . . . Damn, I'm sorry," your sudden nervous laugh caused a small smile to rise up on his own flushed face.
"You will be. No one gets away smudging my lipstick darling," you relaxed into Vil's arms at the remark, and he absolutely relished in the bliss of your content gaze and serene demeanor.
"And how do I pay back, hm?" you regained your confidence, but found it quickly simmer down once he spoke again, "Let me smudge yours even more."
You didn't hesitate to pull him back in for a second.
Your ears were filled with the sounds of crashing waves. The golden grains of sand crunched against your feet as you walked along the shore, eyes cast out to the sea beyond. The sun had begun to set upon the horizon, casting the sky in beautiful, soft, colorful hues. You sighed as another cool breeze swept through, tossing your hair in wisps a second time. It was surely time to go back to your room, but you didn’t want to leave! The scenery was just too breathtaking to leave behind.
You heard a sigh so soft from behind you that you almost mistook it for the wind. The soft crunch of steps upon the sand told you otherwise. Before you could even turn around fully, the glimpse of purple-tinted shades let you know who had come to find you.
“There you are.” Vil took a few steps more towards you before he stopped, hand rested upon his hips. “You do realize everyone else has gone back to the hotel, yes? Do you wish to catch cold out here?”
“I’m sorry.” There really was no reason to apologize, you were free to do as you pleased - but you did realize you could have let someone know you’d be out here a while longer. “I guess I just lost track of time. It’s been so long since I last came to a beach; even then, it’s nothing compared to this.” You turned your gaze back out towards the waves, a smile stretched across your face at the sight. “It’s so beautiful here.”
Vil followed your gaze, then gave a nod in affirmation. “Yes, it is quite the view.” He turned his head slightly to glance over at you. “But you can admire it more from your hotel room window. If you like, I wouldn’t even mind if you chose to visit my condo for an even better vantage point. Just come inside before certain people start to throw a tantrum - and before your skin dries out.”
Ever the maternal one, Vil Schoenheit, whether or not he admitted it. There was no way he’d leave you alone until you did what he wanted. You weren’t exactly annoyed…just taken aback by his care, sometimes. You chuckled as you gave a little nod, “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”
“You better,” Vil sighed. “My patience for Grim can only stretch so far.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re not the only one.”
Before you could turn to head back to the resort, your eyes caught something interesting - eye-catching. The sky had taken on a soft purple hue; golden rays of setting sunshine highlighted the expanse quite spectacularly. In your line of sight was also Vil’s hair, still tied in an elegant braided bun (at least what you could see from under his wide-brimmed sun hat). The blond of his hair, the purple ombre that faded in at the ends…you couldn’t help but release another chuckle.
“I guess you made the sky jealous.”
Vil raised an eyebrow as he glanced your way again. “Hm? What do you mean?”
“The colors of the sky match your hair,” you replied. “It’s beautiful.” You watched Vil’s eyes widened at your comparison; the sudden pink tint to his cheeks must’ve been a reflection of the setting light. Your brain began to scramble itself in worry and regret. Was that the wrong thing to say? Did you…oh shit, it sounded like you were flirting, didn’t it? “S-Sorry, that sounded weird, I didn’t mean to-”
The small laugh Vil let out caused your words to stop on your tongue - your heart to flutter. His eyes were closed in glee, mouth opened in a perfect smile. His pointer finger and thumb came up to hold the right temple of his sunglasses, then lifted them up to reveal his twinkling violet eyes. He looked genuinely happy.
“No, no, do go on!” The Pomefiore housewarden gave you a little wink. “I would love to hear what else is on that silly little mind of yours~”
Your heart pounded in your chest, your blood pumped in your ears, your face felt hotter than it did before. Vil simply chuckled at your embarrassment, setting his shades back in place before he began to walk forward, back towards civilization. He glanced over his shoulder at you; his finger curled in a ‘come here’ motion, enticing you to follow. Like a lovesick fool, you did so without a word.
As if to sink further into whatever hole you got yourself into, when yet another breeze blew through, you tucked a stray lock of Vil’s hair behind his ear.
>> requested: yes, by @liliths-missing-pen
>> a/n: finally back on my event requests from 4 months ago; i totally mischaracterized him lmaooo
>> masterlist: 400 fllr. special , pomefiore
>> summary: you hand vil a horrible fucking drawing of him
>> reader prns: they/them
>> warning(s): none
Vil stared at the paper for what seemed like hours to you. Gingerly, he reached up and grabbed the paper. He brought it closer to his face and squinted for a moment, before moving it away.
“Dear… what is this even supposed to be?” his voice was ginger, trying not to come off as disappointed.
“It’s a drawing of you, idiot.” you tilted the paper so that you could point out his features. “See here, your purple hair and your gold crown.”
“I see but… it looks off somehow, dear.” By now even you could tell that he was not impressed with your depiction of him.
“Fine,” you moved to pull the paper out of his hands. “If you don’t like it then I’ll just throw it away.”
Surprisingly, Vil’s grip tightened on the paper and he pulled back. “Now hold on, let’s not be rash.”
“You like it, then?” you questioned, still holding onto the paper.
“...Let’s just not make rash decisions,” was Vil’s only comment, working on delicately prying your fingers off the paper.
“Vil!!” you squealed, which he slightly winced to, before letting go of the terrible drawing. “I knew you’d love it! I love, love, love you!!”
You embraced him and kissed his cheek.
“Dear, you’re going to mess up my makeup and clothes,” Vil complained.
“Oh shush, you can fix it later,” you smirked, leaning over to kiss him once again.
