#x reader commissions

Epel paused and turned around to look at you, curious as to why you’d stopped walking. He immediately took note of the furrow in your brow and hurried over, peering over your shoulder to look at your phone and read what you’d been typing.

“...Vil? What’s up with him?” He asked. “He was fine this morning.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” You chewed your lip. “Something tells me magic was involved, and from what it sounds like, it’s less than ideal.”

The familiar clacking of high heels against the tile floor approaching made you both look up. Epel let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank the Seven it’s you, Vil,” he said. “We were getting worried.”

Vil stopped in front of you and cocked his head. “Worried? Why ever so?”

“We got this really weird text from Rook,” you explained, showing him the screen. “He didn’t give us any context, so we really didn’t know what was happening.”

To your surprise, he took a long stride forward until you were practically chest-to-chest, and you stumbled back. He leaned over you, smirking. “You were so worked up over me? How touching…”

With gentle fingers, he caressed your jaw, tilting your chin up gently and staring deep into your eyes. You shot a panicked side glance to Epel, who looked equally as freaked out as you were at Vil’s sudden touchiness.

“Uh, are you sure you’re okay, Vil?” You asked. “You’re not usually this… affectionate.”

Your words made him frown and he immediately reeled back, eyebrows pinching and looking positively wounded. “You don’t like it…?”

“No! No,” you rushed, wanting to see the pained expression gone from his face as soon as possible. “It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Like a switch was flipped, Vil stepped back up to you and snaked a hand around your waist with a small smile. “Oh, thank goodness, darling. You had me scared for a moment.”

‘Darling’? You looked at Epel who simply shrugged, wide-eyed as he watched the scene unfold.

Vil suddenly tugged you until you were pressed flush against him, as if you two weren’t close enough in proximity already. He put his lips next to your ear, voice unusually breathy and sensual. “May I walk you to class?”

You had to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. “Uh, sure, I guess.”

He wasted no time in tugging you along, taking a glance at you as he walked every few moments or so. When you looked closer at his face, you saw that he was wearing a bit more makeup than usual, the most prominent being the deep pink lipstick.

“Is something important happening today?” You asked.

He looked at you, confused. “No, why?”

You shrugged and looked at the floor, wanting to avoid the sheer intensity of his gaze. “You just seem a lot more done-up than usual. I mean, not that you usually aren’t, but I guess today it really stuck out to me.”

Vil blushed, a shade of pink almost as deep as his lips. It was so unlike him; he looked downright bashful. “It’s always important if you’re involved. I want to look my best for you, after all.”

Holy shit, what is happening? You screamed internally as you tried your best to keep yourself calm and composed. “O-oh, thank you, Vil, but you didn’t have to. I always think you look amazing.”

He suddenly stopped, staring at you. “...Really?”

“Yes, of course, I-” you were cut off as Vil suddenly pushed you against the wall, being careful enough not to knock your head. Your voice caught and you looked up at him, wide-eyed. He was so close, you could feel his hot, sweet breath fan across your cheeks.

“God, the things you do to me,” Vil murmured. You gulped. He closed his eyes and leaned in to press a slow, sensual kiss onto your lips, and a small ‘eep!’ of surprise escaped your throat. His lips were warm, and they moved softly and purposefully as he moved to press kisses to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw…

“Vil! What are you doing?” You whisper-shouted, lightly pushing against him to no avail, self-conscious of any student that would possibly pass by and catch you two in this compromising situation.

He stopped, and you let out a sigh of relief. His eyes were-half lidded, and you could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of pink outline his irises.

“Forgive me,” he breathed, never breaking eye contact. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Um, forgiven?” You squeaked, still incredibly confused by the whole ordeal. Then, as if nothing had happened, Vil pulled back and continued to lead you down the hall to your next class. Before he departed, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, whispering in your ear about how he’d be there to pick you up when the bell rang. You watched him walk off, dazed and confused.

“MC? Oh, thank goodness,” Epel, who was slightly out of breath, ran up to you. “That was super weird. I wanted to make sure you got to class okay.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, still trying to piece together everything you’d just experienced.

Epel squinted at you. “...Um, I think you have something on your face.” He pointed to his cheek, and you wiped at your own face. When you looked at your hand, you saw a bright smudge of pink lipstick. You scrubbed furiously at your face.

“Did I get it all?”

Epel grimaced. “Not even a little bit.”

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The rest of the day was… eventful, to say the least. Vil spent every waking moment he could by your side, stealing cheek kisses every now and then and leaving your face cumulatively stained by the pink pigment. You suckered Crewel into letting you out of your last block early (sometimes, it really pays to be a teacher’s pet) so you could make your hasty escape before Vil could corner you after class and subject you to more of his unwarranted affection. Not that you necessarily disliked it; you couldn’t deny your growing interest in the Pomefiore housewarden, but in the back of your mind you’d always assumed he was far out of your league. Under different circumstances, you’d embrace his kisses and gentle touches. But this was so sudden, so excessive, you couldn’t help but feel you were taking advantage of whatever magical influence he was under.

Yeah, you weren’t stupid. You’d been around the bend enough times throughout your stay at NRC to put two and two together; from Rook’s cryptid message and Vil’s odd behavior, you assumed some sort of magical mishap had gone down. By the time the bell rang to dismiss class, you were tucked away in a far corner of the Botanical Garden, hidden beneath the foliage of the temperate zone and praying Vil wouldn’t wander over in his attempts to look for you.

“Why hello, mon cher. I thought I might find you here.”

The sudden voice made you jump, but you relaxed and let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was only Rook, peering over you from one of the perennials.

“Yeah. Thanks for the warning, by the way,” you caustered. “I’ve been trying to get Shoenheit off my trail all day. The man’s a bloodhound.”

“I appreciate the analogy,” he commented, stepping out from behind the greenery and going to sit next to you. “And really, c’est vrai, I apologize for his… behavior. You see, this morning we were working on individual projects for potions, and I had attempted to brew Verunudum.”

Your brows furrowed. “The truth serum? Isn’t that, like, super potent, not to mention super high-level?”

“Of course it is.” He threw his head back, hand on his forehead dramatically. “But at Pomefiore, we excel at potions. So imagine my surprise when I messed it up!” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial containing a bubbling, pink potion. He handed it to you, and you turned it over in your hand, inspecting it.

“It definitely looks like Verunudum,” you said. “Just the wrong color.”

You handed him back the vial, and he tucked it back into his coat. “Precisely, and it works similarly, too. But instead of targeting your thoughts and baring it for the world to see, it enhances and magnifies your emotions.”

You tapped your chin, mulling this information over. “So… Vil accidentally drank it?”

“Oh heavens no!” Rook cried. “If he did, it’d be at least a month before the effects wear off with how concentrated the dose was. No, he just happened to inhale the fumes.”

“And just that was enough to turn him into… Whatever he is right now?”

Rook nodded. “Fortunately, the effects should wear off by tomorrow morning, thank the Seven.”

Something clicked into place. “Wait, so he didn’t drink a love potion?”

“No,” Rook said. He tilted his head at you. “What gave you that idea?”

You could feel your face begin to heat up. “Wait, hold on, the potion just amplifies emotions, right? So that means… He actually has a thing for me?”

Rook looked at you like you were the stupidest person in the world. “Um, yes?”

“What?!” You screeched. “Since when?”

“Since forever.” Rook rolled his eyes. “Mon dieu, such un imbécile…."

“Stop speaking Baguette at me,” you growled. “Alright, okay, we need a game plan. You said the potion effects will only last until the end of the day.”

He nodded. “They’ll wear off completely when he goes to sleep.”

“Okay. Yes.” You took a deep breath, running through the calculations in your head. “I just need to avoid him for the rest of the day.”

Rook smirked. “And when will you confront him about his feelings, little lovebird?”

You glared at him. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

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You awoke groggily the next morning to the incessant pinging of your phone. You groaned, fumbling around enough to turn the ringer off, and collapsed back into bed.

The entirety of the rest of your day yesterday was spent tactfully avoiding the Evil Queen himself. It was difficult, given how smart Vil was; he had been staked out at all of your regular spots, waiting. If it wasn’t for Rook, you would’ve for sure been caught and smothered with more cuddles and kisses than you could handle.

Your phone started vibrating. Someone was calling you. You groaned again and peered at the screen. It was Rook. You swiped to accept his call.

“Hello?”

“You need to get down here!” Rook exclaimed so loudly that you had to pull your phone away from your ear. “It’s an emergency!”

At the urgency of Rook’s voice, you sat up, now fully awake. “What happened?”

“It’s Vil.” You sucked in a breath as Rook continued his rambling. “He won’t come out of his room. I’ve been trying all morning. He hasn’t even come out to do his morning skincare routine!”

Okay, this is bad, you thought, pulling yourself from the bed and haphazardly pulling on your clothes and shoes. Vil would certainly scold you for a half-done tie, but today, he was just going to have to deal with it.

You rushed to the hall of mirrors with the speed of a Spelldrive star, all but hurling yourself through the Pomefiore dorm mirror. You stumbled onto the other side, and you had hardly regained your balance before Rook was pulling you down the hall.

“Rook, what’s going on?” You asked, tripping over your own feet in an effort to keep up with his frantic pace.

“I have no idea,” he replied. “But this is so unlike Vil. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

You screeched to a halt outside the grandiose doors of the Housewarden’s room. Rook knocked on the door. “Vil? Are you there?”

“Go away!” Vil shouted from behind the door. “I’ll come out when I want to!”

Rook gave you a look as if to say, ‘You see?’ You gulped, stepping up to the door. You gave a light knock.

“I told you to leave me alone, Rook!” Vil exclaimed. You shot a pleading glance in Rook’s direction, to which you received a shrug in response. You jiggled the handle. It was locked.

“One moment,” Rook said. He disappeared down the hall, only to reappear a few seconds later with a set of keys. He handed them to you, sticking out one large, golden key in particular. You raised a brow at him, and he simply shrugged again. “For emergencies.”

You decided not to question him, and slipped the key into the keyhole, turning until you heard it click. Slowly, you creaked open the door, stepping in fully, only to be immediately met with a pillow hitting your face with a whump.

You snatched the pillow from your face and held it to your side, closing the door behind you with your foot. Vil had his back to you and was curled up with his knees to his chest. His shoulders were shaking.

“Get out!” He wailed, not turning to look at you.

“Vil? It’s me,” you tried, making your voice as gentle as you could. He whipped his head around to look at you, and promptly let out a shriek and dove under his covers. In the glimpse that you’d caught of his face, you could see there were black streaks of mascara running down his cheeks. You took a hesitant step forward. “...Vil? Are you crying?”

“No!” He replied, followed by a hiccup.

Well, you thought, this is going to be a challenge to navigate. You walked over to sit at the foot of his bed. Vil—or, you supposed, the lump under the comforter that was Vil—flinched when you sat down.

“Vil…,” you said, making sure to choose your words carefully so as to not upset him further. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” He suddenly sprang up from underneath the covers, seething. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was red and puffy. He glared at you. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I am.”

You furrowed your brows. “I don’t follow.”

“The little stunt I pulled yesterday,” he sniffled, bringing the heel of his palm up to wipe at his cheeks. “I can’t believe you can still look at me. I-I let Rook’s potion get the better of me, I kissed you without your consent… It wasn’t supposed to go like this!” He buried his face in his hands. You dared to scoot closer, placing a feather-light hand on his trembling shoulder.

“It’s alright, Vil,” you cooed. “I know that it wasn’t your fault. And besides, I didn’t mind you kissing me.”

He hiccuped. “...You didn’t?”

“I didn’t,” you repeated. “Was I a little surprised? Sure. But I certainly didn’t mind it.”

He tentatively peeked up at you through his hands. “...My confession was supposed to be so much better than this…”

“Well,” you said, “either way, I accept.”

“Of course you do, I’m gorgeous,” he sniffled, and you had to stifle a snort. He looked at you fully, bottom lip trembling. “But I never wanted you to see me like this. I’m an ugly crier.”

His eyes were red and swollen, his skin was splotchy, mascara and eyeliner smeared in dark, wet smudges around his eyes and on his cheeks. A tear escaped the corner of his eye. You reached a hand out to swipe it away with your thumb.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, being truthful. “I always think you’re beautiful.”

Before you could pull your hand away, Vil leaned into it, nestling his cheek into your palm like it was made to go there. “You’re too nice to me. I’m kind of an acquired taste as it is.” He swallowed. “I’m not usually this… messy. I don’t think Rook’s potion has worn off completely yet.”

You distinctly remember Rook saying that the effects should last twelve hours maximum, but you decided to hold your tongue and spare him his pride.

“It’s alright,” you said, rubbing your thumb back and forth against the side of his face. “Do you want to start getting ready for class?”

Vil scoffed. “There’s no way I’m going to class. Not even the best sheet masks can fix me up at this point.”

“And that’s really an excuse to skip?”

“I’m the Pomefiore housewarden, I must appear in perfect condition at all times.” He shrugged. “I’ll just tell them I’m sick, besides, it’s not like my grades will go down by simply missing a day or two.”

Always finds a way to sneak in a brag, huh? You thought to yourself.

“Will you stay with me?” Vil asked, looking at you with ‘please’ written all over his face. “Just this once.”

You sighed, smiling at him softly. “I suppose. Just this once.”

The both of you knew there was no chance it would be ‘just this once,’ but neither of you said anything.

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What I DO write:

explicit smut, nsfw

dark content, yandere

incest, stepcest (siblings only), pseudo cest

noncon/dubcon/cnc

piss, watersports, feet, daddy kink, anal, most (hard) kinks

A/B/O, hybrids

angst, hurt/comfort

male character x fem/gn reader

What I DON'T write:

underage, pedophilia, loli/shotacon, age play, race play

dd/lg, md/lb, heavily dominant reader

heavy gore, cannibalism, scat, vomit, fisting

heavy mental disorders, suicide

sex worker AU's (up to discussion, though)

history/fantasy AU's

character x character

character x OC/heavily detailed readers

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