(Ignore the fact the I didn’t draw enough pigeons 😔)
YESSSSS COSMO!!!! I ASKED AND YOU FUCKING DELIEVERED- OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS Not even just a lil concept drawing I got a whole ass doodle board!!!
Cardinal is just Akumatized Tim, this is canon now.- (at this rate im gonna make a semi crack miraculous x batman crossover, but without the character swap- just Marinette screaming justice and decking a guy and Dick having to hoard cheese from Alfred)
Also the bottom two of baby boy Tim in TEARS over his flock, and the lil drawing of him with wisp nd Reggie??? Im in love.
And as promised-
Your question awaits :)
(feel free to ask over reblog, dm, or ask- and choose wisely my dear <33)
𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: when you’re always crawling to be on the good graces of the al-asim family, there’s only one obstacle standing in your way—the loyal servant directly under the first prince himself
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): hate-sex?, non consensual touching (minor), slightly dub-con, cunnilingus, high sexual tension, semi-public sex, enemies to..?, servant!reader, slight au!
𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.7k
𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: grrr going feral for birthday boy jamil is great <3 and i apologise for any mistakes/typing erros—i was too lazy to proofread whoops-
Having a smile plastered on your face is a custom in the life you live. Many people warm up much quicker to a seemingly kinder face than a gruff feature—you’re not sure of the detail but you get better responses from doing the former.
You have a kind smile, you’re told often followed with your usual response of I just enjoy what I do, is all. That kindness of yours has taken you to great heights.
You’re adored by the Al-Asim family; trusted with tending to the younger family members and adjusting their troubles. You’ve climbed up the ranks in a silent hierarchy of servants through years of patience and endurance—you’re not going to allow yourself to fall into a life of poverty just because of a minor slip up.
Then again, becoming a trusted maidservant of the Al-Asim family, one so close to the royal family themselves and not just for cleaning services, can be a difficult feat to acquire. Especially if you’re not from a line of family that’s been in service to them for generations. No, you were taken in from the slums and going back isn’t an option you’d want to make.
You want a much higher pedestal. Somewhere you know they wouldn’t be able to get rid of you so easily if you slipped up just a bit because acting perfect on a day to day basis can be so tiring. It’s taken off more years in your life than any disease you know of.
The plan is simple: appeal to the higher ranking family members and you’re fine. The only problem is that the job you desire is already occupied—by someone you might as well consider as the devil incarnate.
“I see you still have the tendency to daydream,” Jamil’s voice is soft when he speaks, the meaning behind his words contrasting to the smooth timbre of his vocals and you have to hold back a glare when turning to him.
The smile you offer comes naturally to you—trained to stretch on your lips at any given moment as you give the long-haired male a small bow. “Mister Viper. What a surprise.. are you not tending to the First Prince?” Your fingers are clasped together over your maids outfit, then thin material worn out from years of daily use but you take pride in maintaining the smooth white colour the dress comes in.
Jamil’s face remains neutral, staring at you as if looking for your inner demons before he turns around. “I shall take my leave,” he utters, never losing the cool edge to his voice and you keep the smile on your face until his footsteps are no longer heard.
When the silence once again envelops your surroundings, you can’t help the quiet huff you let out. Unbelievable, you think. Who does he think he is? He’s never liked you since the day you came and you’re not even sure why! Trying to befriend him is useless and acting polite towards him because he’s higher ranked than you gives you headaches. It’s almost too cruel how the irony of your desires is blocked by the single entity that makes your blood boil.
Coming yourself with another hiff, you straighten your back, fingers smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress before you take the tray of tea in your hands. Time to go back to work.
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In life, too many complaints won’t get you anywhere—you know at least this much but again, for the umpetenth time, you can’t help the growing feeling of annoyance brewing up inside you whenever you’re called up to do something in ungodly hours.
You’ve never had the best personality behind closed doors, afterall. So you’ll quietly complain whenever it's necessary (in your mind, of course. The risk of being overheard makes you paranoid).
The kitchen of the royal palace is spacious, stretching wide to accommodate the source of all the luxurious meals always prepared during occasions formal or not. It’s located in the further areas of the palace as any kitchen normally so as to make sure the smell of cooking food wouldn't stink up the area too much.
Because of its location, you find yourself walking quite the distance from your chambers and into an already dark kitchen. You can’t turn on the lights pass curfew so a small candle is your company as you prepare to boil water for the tea requested.
The day had been much more hectic than usual. You can’t remember all the details when you’re one of the servants running around the palace to get everything done. It’s preparation for another event. That much you’re sure of but what type you don’t think you really care for the details.
Fatigue and lack of sleep seems to be catching up to you. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open, resorting to pinching your arms to make sure the slight pain can keep you up and about. Too deep in your sense of tiredness, it takes a second for you to realise that the candle you’ve lit is already blown out—the fire from the stove your only source of lighting.
“Wh-? Ahh, shit, shit,” curses flow out of your mouth profusely, hurriedly reaching inside your dress pocket for a lighter. You’re not sure if it’s because of your fatigue, the chilly air, or even because of how dark it is but you’re fumbling with the match box, struggling to even open it in your panicked state.
Just before you could properly light the match, the candle burns again with a new fire; the small flame used to light it aflame disappears with a shake of the hand. You stare unblinkingly at your newly lit candle, and as if slow motion, you trail up the hand near the small fire to find the familiar face of the First Prince’s personal servant.
“Mister.. Viper,” you greet, unsettled by his sudden appearance. You don’t think you even heard him come in let alone get so close to you like this. Were you so out of it that you weren’t able to hear anything…?
“What’re you doing in the kitchen so late at night?” Jamil gets to the point, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head questioningly.
Your mouth opens and closes in response, mind blanking on how you should reply. “Um.. I was requested to make tea for..” Somehow, Jamil is moving closer to you, your vision going blurry before it only fills with the sight of him. “What- what’re you doing?”
Your breath hitches, the small of your back already pressing against the edge of the counter and Jamil places his hands behind you, trapping you between his arms. He leans closer.
“There’s an intruder trying to break into the castle,” he whispers, lips brushing against your ears and your face burns. Jamil does nothing after that. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t speak another word—his lips faintly brushes against your ears each time you breathe, your senses only filled with the warmth of Jamil’s body and how you can smell the strong scent of spices pressed so close to him like this.
“I don’t… Why are you telling me this?” All you can do is question back, lost on what he’s implying ang you tense when feeling his hand settling on your hip, pressing you harder against the counter.
There’s something so… primal and raw in the way Jamil is touching you. His fingers hold your firmly in a soft pressure that if you weren’t so hyper aware of where his hands are, you wouldn’t notice that he’s already touching you.
Jamil moves back enough to look at you, his other hand lifting from the counter to grasp your chin so you’re forced to look at him properly. “I believe that intruder is already inside,” he murmurs and you see something glinting in his eyes. Suddenly, his grip on you tightens, pulling your chin roughly towards him and his voice is firmer, “What’re you doing in the kitchen?”
You feel a sudden anger flaring in your chest. “Are you accusing me, Mister Viper?” You can’t help but spit out, glaring at him openly. “I already told you- I’m making tea.”
Jamil smirks in response, uncaring of your sudden attitude as he lets you go. The male turns off the stove, your protest ignored as he turns to you again, leaning against the table from across you. “On whose orders are you making it for?”
“That’s-” the bite in your throat suddenly disappears. You blink in irritation before an unsettling feeling brews in your stomach. From who.. that’s... Of course it would be from one of the younger children, wouldn’t it..? But for them to stay up this late then.. the First Prince? But that would be Jamil’s responsibility—not yours.
You bite your lip, brows furrowing for a different reason now; confusion. “It was from a note,” your voice is quiet when you say this, gaze darting to the floor to avoid the smug look on the other’s face at your confession. How could you have not realised..?
Jamil takes quick strides over to you and before you know it, he’s turning you around and roughly pushing you down on the counter. You yelp, hands shooting out to soften the impact as Jamil presses his chest over your back. “Aren’t you too trusting… or maybe.. You’re an accomplice of this intruder?”
What.
“That’s- that’s-! Of course not!” You feel the shudder raking down your spine at the low hum Jamil makes from your words. Your face burns with humiliation, tears springing up to your eyes for a reason beyond you; you’re cursing Jamil to hell for all this.
“Why should I trust you? I’ve always found your sudden climb in ranks to be a little odd,” he sighs and the snarky remark you had disappears when you feel something hard pressing against your behind. The outline of Jamil’s growing erection presses against the thin material of your dress, slow languid rolls of his hips makes your body burn.
You’re quiet now; distracted by the way the brunet is rutting against you. Jamil is a difficult person for you to tolerate but you can’t deny how attractive he is. “So quiet suddenly?” And you want to curse the skies why he was given such an attractive voice.
His hold on you eases before there’s no longer any pressure holding you down. You get up slowly, pushing yourself up by the elbows and turning your head to see that Jamil has already moved some distance away from you. The neutral look he normally has is back.
You think your heart might explode. He can’t just- do that and act like nothing happened..! There’s no words you can think of—verbal communication suddenly beyond you. All you can do is clutch at your dress weakly, your pussy feeling so empty and uncomfortably wet.
“I can…” you gulp, voice hoarse and Jamil raises a brow in question. “I can help.. find the real intruder.” Your chest feels so fucking heavy now, the bruning heat in your body clouding all common sense. “To prove my innocence.” You add quickly as an afterthought, because you’re not doing this for him.
A small laugh leaves the latter’s mouth in response and you feel your brow twitch. “You’re a difficult person to deal with.”
Wha..?
Jamil pushes himself off the table, once again trapping you between his arms but you feel much calmer than before. The candle burning as your only source of light seems to emphasise the brunet’s features. Eyes slanted and shaped like a predator stares at you hungrily and feels natural for you to draw closer to him when Jamil leans over. “Always having a smile on your face when you’re clearly annoyed. Why are you so insistent on putting up a mask?”
His breath ghosts over your lips, body pressing close to you as if you weren’t close enough. You look into his eyes; searching for something and smiling when you find it. “Should I say the same to you?”
The simple questions snaps whatever tension you’re in and Jamil crashes his lips to yours, prying your mouth open with his tongue and slithering in when you give him access. His hands wrap around your back, trailing down over your ass and squeezing you with greedy hands.
You moan in response, pulling him closer by wrapping your hands around his neck and rolling your hips against the hard tent in his pants. Jamil groans softly, breaking the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw to your neck. His fingers tug the front of your dress down, the cotton tearing slightly from his rough ministrations but you don’t care about that when his lips reaches the skin above your breasts, marking you with love bites and easing the pain with the slow drag of his tongue.
Much to your disappointment, Jamil doesn’t pull your dress any further down, instead, he’s the one getting on his knees; his hands trailing up your legs and hiking your dress along with it. Your dress settles over your hips, held by his hands as Jamil nudges your legs apart to trail kisses up your inner thigh.
You’re clenching around nothing, small gasps leaving your lips at every mark Jamil leaves with every inch closer to your aching core. “Please,” you can’t help but whine, tangling your hands in his hair. You feel Jamil smirk against your skin.
He pushes your undergarment to the side and your vision goes white from the first slow drag of Jamil’s tongue against your weeping cunt. The taste of you on his tongue makes Jamil feral—harsh strokes of his tongue against your outer lips before his mouth sucks and he’s eating you out like an animal.
You’re struggling to keep your moans in, legs shaking with every suction of Jamil’s mouth on your core, greedily tasting every inch you can offer him. His hold on your thighs are brutal; not allowing you to close your legs. Your dress is no longer held up by his hands and falls over the male’s head, hiding him from view.
You’re biting at your hands to keep your sounds in. It’s already so late at night and despite your location being in the further areas of the palace, if anyone were to walk in the kitchen then the first thing they’ll see is you, writhing and crying from a reason beyond them, Jamil hidden away behind a table and under your dress.
“A- ah-!” The yelp you let out echoes in the kitchen. You’re mortified by the sound but it’s only a second later that you're moaning again. Jamil’s fingers curl once again, dragging against your walls deliciously. His touch is gently, easily finding all the right buttons to push without too much prying as his mouth focuses on your clit.
You whisper his name quietly, the only thing you can think of saying and it seems to spur the brunet to fuck his finger’s into you, easily finding your good spots and you’re coming with a strangled shout.
You don’t get to register how Jamil greedily sucks off your juices, throwing you into the edge of overstimulation before he finally pulls away; pushing your dress over his head. The blood rushes to your face, gaping at the way Jamil swiped his tongue over his lips as if to collect your juices and your squeak when the male suddenly pulls you into a kiss.
When you break away, Jamil is smirking at you handsomely, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Should we get started then?” You nod absentmindedly, blinking at the satisfied smile Jamil gives you. “Then we’ll start with the main entrance. I think that’s most likely where they entered from because of the hectic preparations.”
“What?” You can’t help but ask dumbly.
The laugh Jamil lets out makes you feel both warm and irritated. His eyes narrow when he looks at you but the smile on his face is still present. “I see.. Did you want to continue?” You can’t answer. Jamil smirks.
He takes your wrist and you’re frozen in his stare as Jamil guides your hand to his erection. The hardness in your palm makes your mouth water and thighs clench uselessly as Jamil blinks his eyes slowly. “Don’t worry,” he reassures, pressing your hand harder against his clothed dick and groaning at the pressure. “Should we be able to catch the intruder then I’ll be sure to reward you.”
𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: this is definitely not an excuse to write this concept nope thank you for all the interests in what this blog can offer!! a lot of coincidences transpired that made this fic happen but wellーthank you my babes and i hope you’ll enjoy! 💞
“Vil~!” loud taps of heels ring above the tiled floor at a consistent pace. The rhythmic clack, clack, clack of sharp heels bounces off the walls before it slows and replaced by pretty giggles.
You held onto Vil’s shoulders, hands wrapped around his neck and rubbing your face to his hair like an affectionate puppy. “My pretty Vil! How are you? Are you doing fine?” Your voice holds all the sweetness in the world; light, airy, kind—it’s as if you embody the meaning of pure delicacy itself.
The blond model lets out a small sigh, tuning out the onlookers watching the display as he wraps an arm around you. You’re basically dangling on his neck, stubbornly holding onto him and Vil wraps his arms around your waist to make sure you’re comfortable.
“Who’s that?” the new intern whispers to his senior. His mouth parts when you press a kiss to the model’s cheek as if he had witnessed a crime scene. “Does Mister Schoenheit have um..” he doesn’t think he’s allowed to assume things—it feels almost too scandalous to voice his thoughts about such a top tier influencer.
The older of the two laughs heartily, patting the younger one on the back. His hits are a lot rougher than necessary but he’s smiling when he gestures at the couple: Vil seemingly scolding the pretty woman with the bright smile on her lips. “You wouldn’t know, huh, kiddo?” He laughs, eyes wrinkling and the intern hears you laugh before you’re placed on the ground. “She’s the boss around here.”
Eh?
Your fingers clasp around Vil’s like a perfect puzzle, bringing his gloved hands to your lips and kissing it with a small wink. Vil rolls his eyes but you catch the embarrassed twitch on his lips as you turn to your employees strewn around the room. “If anyone needs us, please make sure it’s after hours! I’ll be with Vil in my office,” you sing-song, tugging at the blond’s hands towards the elevator. “Work hard everyone!”
The elevator closes with a resounding ding as your secretary moves your schedule to the next day.
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“Tell me what you’ve been up to lately,” the soft dips of your fingers on his skin spreads burning heat over the arch of his back. Your mouth murmurs sugary words against his skin, sucking marks in places only you’ll be able to see. “My pretty Vil.” You sigh dreamily, hands moving to cup your cheeks in a display of a daydreaming schoolgirl.
Vil kisses the expense of your breasts, breath fanning against your skin hotly. His hands settle on the edge of the table you’re leaning against; trapping you between his arms. “It’s rare for you to want to hear about my work,” Vil points out, his hand moves to cup your face, brushing your hands away. The glove he’s wearing glides smoothly against your skin, his thumb swiping over the underside of your lips before you tilt your head down.
Your lips sucks his thumb into your mouth, tongue swiping over the smooth silk of gloves before you’re grinning, teeth clenched on Vil’s thumb but not biting. He pulls his finger away, enough for you to catch the edge of the glove and the material slides off of Vil’s hands in a smooth motion.
The glove in your mouth is instantly discarded, flicking it away as you wrap your arms around Vil’s neck. Your mouth slants with beautifully shaped lips, soft moans leaving your mouth without shame. “I’m just curious,” you start, panting lightly as Vil attaches his mouth to your neck. “I wanna take good care of my baby, you know~ Gotta make sure he’s happy and all that.”
You feel Vil frowns against your neck and you hug him tighter like an overbearing parent. “Your manner of speech doesn’t match your appearance,” the complaint is said with a small huff, quiet enough as if he’s musing to himself but loud enough to make sure you heard him. He resumes mouthing at your neck, smearing fruity lip gloss on your skin. “I was offered another sponsor from a brand that was recently published.”
As a loving person in general, your desire to take care of your precious belongings is buried deep inside your core. Being neglectful makes you uneasy and you appreciate the satisfaction that comes with knowing you’re able to take care of something well. So hearing the supposedly good news, you can’t help but frown at the implication.
Your fingers tangle in blond locks, pulling Vil away from your neck gently to face him. “Did you accept? Is your allowance not enough? Or..? Ah, do you want me to make you my official brand ambassador? I offered before but well..” you frown, head tilted when remembering how Vil had always declined whenever you offered.
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t accept the offer and you’re more than enough,” the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle, handling you with careful fingers. When he pulls away, you take the time to appreciate the flutter of his lashes, eyes slanted like a cat drawing you in. The smile he gives you makes fondness swell in your heart. It’s almost like restating a fact you know by heart: even if you can’t offer him all the riches you can give, you’ll still gladly offer him your heartーand Vil will accept without hesitance.
You nod your head, cupping his cheeks in return. “You’ve gotten more natural at fanservice, I see.”
The blond rolls his eyes at that and he steps back when you get off the table. Your heels are thrown somewhere across the room, stockings the only layer between your bare feet and soft carpet. Vil takes a seat on your chair as you rummage through your bag. It doesn’t take long before you turn to him again, a satisfied smile on your lips when you see that Vil has already unbuttoned his shirt.
The blond eyes the small box in your hands, the smooth surface of a dark coloured cover clasped securely between your hands. You take quick strides over to him, legs swinging over his lap and straddling his thighs. You’re placed higher in this position, legs spread and skirt riding up your thigh. You place the box between the two of you, eyes twinkling in mischief as you offer your baby his new present.
“Should I be concerned with what you’re offering?” Despite the remark, he’s taking the small gift in his hands, eyeing the box skeptically and waiting for you to let him open it.
“You know,” you smile, leaning over him and rolling your shoulders back. It doesn’t escape you how Vil eyes the swell of your breast along your movements. “Just a little gift. It’s nothing dangerous this time.” The term danger perhaps overused with your more intimate giftsーyou can still hear the breathy moans of Vil overstimulated by the dildo you’ve given him that one time...
When he opens the box, you tilt your head when he takes in a sharp breath; watching his reaction. Vil visibly gulps, adam's apple bobbing when he takes out the choker; embedded with small gemstones with light carving over smooth leather. The inside is made of a soft material to ensure comfortable usage. It’s not too thick nor too thinーjust perfectly shaped.
“Custom made,” you whisper into his ear and Vil freezes. Your cold fingertips trace small circles over his nipple, not quite touching but it’s enough to make him shudder. “I needed something pretty for my pretty Vil.” It’s a statement he’s heard many times in various forms and situations but when it leaves your lips, it’s an absolute ruleーwritten down as a fact stated by your mere belief; a form of blessing when passing your lips and into his ears.
You take Vil’s silence as appreciation for your present with the way his eyes stay glued on the gift. When you take the choker out of the box does Vil finally look at you, a smile on his lips. He stays silent when tilting his head back, baring his neck for you; veins protruding from his skin in a sexy line. The dip to his collarbones is satisfyingly painted with your marks; both faint and new.
Your fingers easily clasp the choker around his neck, wrapped perfectly around him and it makes you vibrate with excitement at how well it fits him. Vil’s eyes cloud over when he looks at you again, smile replaced by the faint tugs of a smirk and you feel the growing bulge of his hardness pressing against you.
“You spoil me too much,” he whispers, head craned to look at you but it seems like a deliberate move to show off his gift.
“Not enough, I would think.” As if reaching an invisible peak, the bubbling desire in your core pops and you’re crashing your lips to the blond’s. The messy sound of kissing and moans spills from both your lips; greedily sucked into the other’s mouth as you start grinding down on the clothed dick under you. “Patience, baby,” you breathe into his ear, fingers tugging his hair in warning. “I’ve got you. Just be good for me, hm?”
Vil lets out a shuddering breath, breathing harshly through his nose and watching with hooded eyes the way you’re unbuttoning his pants. When your fingers curl around his cock, the moan that spills out of Vil’s mouth is sinful. A sound that blesses your ears and stirs you to squeeze him harder.
Each flick of your wrist has Vil’s thighs jumping, head thrown back and choker glinting under the lights. His hands impatiently push your skirt further up your thighs, the material pooling around your hips and in a movement much too practiced, Vil’s fingers rip the dark stockings you’re wearing.
“Patience,” your eyes narrow in warning, fingers tugging at the back of his head and your other hand squeezes his cock in an almost painful grip. Vil pauses at that, blinking at you like a lost child and you ease your hold on him. “Don’t be impatient, Vil,” you coo; smile back on your face.
The hole in your stockings grows larger when you tug at the thin elastis, ripping it down your legs and kicking it away as if it offended you. You stand up from Vil’s lap, giving him a teasing smile as you turn your chair to face your desk.
Vil scoots the chair back to allow you to wiggle in between, sitting back again on his lap and pressing your ass snugly against his cock. Precum smears over the curve of your bottom, skin painted with Vil’s desperation as he digs his face in the crook of your neck, latching his mouth to your skin.
It’s a race against time now; the silent game of which you would provide your attention with between him or your work. The invisible time starts when you pick up your pen.
“It slipped my mind earlier,” soft drags of Vil’s fingers against your skin sends ripples of growing ecstasy. His mouth peppers kisses against the back of your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and smiling against your skin. “You look very beautiful today, as well.” His voice drips with sensual honey; sinful timbres ringing in your ears as he moans.
You’re smiling, eyes skimming over printed words. You clench around nothing when Vil’s hands snake around your torso, his hand playing with your breasts. But you can be quite stubbornーit’s how you grew so successful, afterallーand you’re rather determined to see how far Vil will call for your attention.
He whispers your name, hips rutting against you. You cross out a proposal. The soft flick of his thumb over your nipple makes you pause before you’re changing the documents, resuming your work.
You can practically feel the growing need behind you. The blond growing more and more impatient when it seems his advances aren’t working. It’s because of the nice weather you’re leaning over the table, lifting your ass up in invitation does Vil tense up in excitement, his cock instantly pushed into your tight heat; dragging against your walls and filling you up. Right. Because of the weather, definitely not your crumbling sanity.
It takes almost your entire self restraint to not moan; appreciating the breathy whimper of the blond behind you instead. When you lean back against him, Vil quiets down, hips rolling up into you. “Just a few more minutes, Vil~”
There’s no helping the laugh that leaves your lips when hearing the small, exasperated sigh that leaves his lips.
It doesn’t take the few minutes you expectedーmere seconds for your restraint to crumble when Vil presses himself to your back. His arms hugs you close, hips rolling in a slow drag that makes you feel every inch of his cock buried deep inside you.
“Mommy,”
You freeze, fingers twitching.
“Won’t you spoil me?”
You're throwing your pens and papers away, craning your head back and grabbing the back of Vil’s neck to kiss him. That’s when Vil finally sets a pace and you’re gasping in surprise. “N- needy,” you tease, breath catching in your throat when a particular thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your mind blank.
His pace doesn’t last longーnot when you’re pulling at his hair and holding his knees down. It doesn’t register Vil’s mind the way you swiftly turn around before he’s moaning again when feeling you sink down on his cock. “Did you get lonely?” You smile, pulling at his hair again until Vil’s gasping, his neck fully exposed to you adorned with a pretty collar.
You’re bouncing on his lap in short, quick movements; lips attaching to old bruises and blooming new ones. They’re placed right under his collarbones where it won;t hinder his modeling activity but the thrill of marking him as yours all over again spurs you to bounce harder on his cock.
“Please,” Vil pants, eyes squeezed shut at the multitude of sensations filling him. The tight clench of your pussy wrapped around his cock drives his mind wild. His hair is no longer kept in neat pins, messy and untamed in your hands with each tug to the strands.
You feel the gripling pleasure nearing its peak, your body aching for relief. You’re watching Vil’s expression through the pleasured haze, lips pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw and drawing out small whimpers. “You’re so good for me,” he keens under the praise, gasping for air as he bucks up into you; sharp smacks of skin against skin filling the air.
Vil looks at you when you cup his face, eyes slightly blurry but he sees the smile on your face; directed only at him. “Come for me,” with that final command, a violent shudder rips through Vil’s spine and he’s cumming with a loud gasp; legs shaking as you grind against him, coming soon after.
Your office fills with the smell of sex and soft pants. Vil slumps against your chair in exhaustion, allowing himself to look slightly less elegant as he catches his breath. He’s not allowed much rest when he spots the wide smile on your face; already looking at him with excitement.
“Mommy?” You tilt your head and Vil groans tiredly. “Whaat? You’re the one that said it!”
The blond huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Don’t expect me to call you that often. It sounds desperate.”
You give him a shrug, placing your elbows behind you on the desk. “You sounded desperate. It was cute. I liked it.”
That was.. a hint perhaps, Vil thinks. You’ll probably make him say it a lot of times now…
Despite the growing fatigue and how he feels as though he’s in desperate need of showering, Vil gives you a small (though slightly troubled) smile. “I’ll trust you to not abuse your power too much, then..”
You blink, a small laugh leaving your lips. Your fingers trace the gift he’s wearing as you wrap an arm over his shoulder. “Of course,” you agree easily, pecking his lips and Vil grimaces lightly. “I’ll be sure to spoil you lots~”
𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: deuce, in all his adorableness, can be quite an air head at times—especially with the mentions of academic studies. so! being the reliable upperclassman and doting boyfriend you are, of course you'll help him study! or… at least that was the original plan...
𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): senpai!reader, cum play, top!reader, minor overstimulation, semi-public sex, slight corruption kink..? studying
𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 3.1k
𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: *laughing hysterically* we’ve hit 200+ followers in less than two weeks since this blog started iーthank you so much!!! i hope you’re all making great life decisions here i’ll keep doing my best!! thank you for all the kind messages and for enjoying whatever this blog can offer (৹ᵒ̴̶̷᷄́ฅᵒ̴̶̷᷅৹)♡︎
side not: or alternative title ‘reverse uno card’ ৲( ᵒ ૩ᵕ )৴
You weren’t exactly the best student out there nor were you that much of a good role model—but! it didn’t mean you were a troublemaker..!
Or most times, at least..
You’ve had your moments when you were younger.
Being a sophomore and falling into the category of a certain blue-headed junior’s senpai is so endearing to you let alone becoming his certain “other half” (as you’d like to declare) fills you with so much joy and interest! You can’t even remember what your junior days were like before meeting this reckless child!
So, when exams season rolled by and panic flares in the air as students and delinquents alike try their best to not fail as many classes as there are, you’ve taken it upon yourself to study as much as possible because success is a virtue (and you don’t want to get your head chopped off by your dorm leader, of course..)
Success comes to those who are willing to try—or so the saying goes and your hard work seems to pay off when you’ve received your tests scores and find that you’ve passed your classes with passing grades; bordering on either decent or a thin stretch—no in between.
At least you’ve passed!
Though the same can’t be said for your adorable junior—Deuce seems distracted as you eat lunch with him. Small sighs leaving his lips frequent enough that you’ve counted the number of sighs reaching at least eight times since he sat down fifteen minutes ago.
“Are you okay, Deuce-chan?” You poke his cheek lightly, pressing your own against his shoulder and looking up at him like a puppy. He doesn’t react like you expected him to and it makes you frown; concern seeping in your being as you pull away. “Did something bad happen..?”
Another sigh leaves his lips but much louder than the little ones he did. You pull away, giving him a small smile and taking his gloved hands in yours as Deuce closes his eyes. “I failed my math exam and Magic History…” He shakes his head, sagging towards you and burying his face in your neck.
You pat his back comfortingly, wrapping him in your arms and caressing the back of his head like a guardian comforting a child. “There, there. I’m sure you did your best,” you reassure, blinking when Deuce seems to stiffen in your hold. Your brows furrow, frowning for a different reason now.
Pushing him away from you gently, you take note of the way Deuce avoids your eyes when you look at him. Your hands tighten on his shoulders. “You did try your best, right?”
The younger male flinches at your tone of voice; imaginary sweat building in his hairline. “O- of course I did! I just… um.. I stayed up late studying and ended up falling asleep during the test so I…” he trails, voice growing quiet at the end of his sentence and falling into a mumble you can’t quite make out. That’s… kind of adorable.
This time, it was your turn to sigh. Deuce blinks, looking at you curiously when you pat his cheeks like a doting old person while nodding your head. “I see, I see, so it’s like that… Of course my Deuce would try his best during studies, wouldn’t he..?” You muse to yourself and Deuce stares at you strangely. Suddenly your expression changes, face brightening as if a sudden thought came to mind. “The good news is..! They allow make-up quizzes to add points to the original score. So as long as you do fine on those then you won’t fail your class!”
The information seems to make Deuce perk in interest. Though a look of worry washes over his face when your previously bright expression turns a tad nervous. You slide your hands back into his, squeezing them as if keeping hold of something. “The bad news is… well, make-up quizzes are normally much harder than the tests so most students do their best at the actual thing and not…”
Understanding his chance being a near impossible feat, Deuce’s face becomes pale; eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly and you panic to reassure him. “I mean, don’t worry! If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind teaching you a couple of things!” Your mind screams at you that you’ve forgotten most first year materials. “So I think you’ll be fine if you try your best.”
Deuce gives you a small smile, nodding his head. “If it’s not too much trouble then please teach me.”
You perk, alarms in your head shut down forcefully as you pat Deuce’s cheeks again. “Sure thing, kiddo. Just tell me when you want to get started, yeah?”
Much to your surprise, a look of determination settles on his face and the blue-headed male grabs you by the wrists still near his face. “Please teach me this afternoon! I know we’re not allowed to stay out too late but studying should be a good excuse!”
You shrink under his burst of determination. A multitude of logic rushing in your mind to counter Deuce’s argument—there’s just no way to go around the rules no matter the reason but.. maybe..? Since your dorm leader has been lenient with minor rules and.. good grades are important, right? And you can’t say no to this junior of yours so…
“Sure..” Deuce smiles and you tug your hand away from his to tap his jaw. “But. We’re not staying up late to study and since first years share rooms, we’re studying in the library, kay?”
Deuce blinks, nodding his head slightly but he’s looking at you in confusion. “Um.. are we not allowed to use your room..?” The look of utter skepticism on his face is charming—and it compels you to pat his head.
“It’s not that we’re not allowed- more like..” An easy grin spreads on your face, leaning closer to Deuce’s face until your noses brush. He flushes at the close proximity but you’re pleased that he doesn’t pull away. “Alone in my room with my cute junior.. I don’t think I’ll be able to focus, you know?” You whisper teasingly, brushing your lips against his as if to taunt him and Deuce pulls away as though you’re hot flame.
“R- right, library it is! I’ll see you later then,” He excuses himself in one breath, gathering his things and hightailing away with red ears.
A satisfied smile spreads on your face. Looks like you’ll have to look for your old notes first.
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The plan was to help Deuce study for his make-up quiz. Get things done as much as possible and as quickly as possible so as to not over exhaust the mind and body.
You just… never expected Deuce to struggle so much answering a few questions. All you’re able to offer is a comforting rub on his back as Deuce face-plants the table.
“To think it would be this difficult…” he sighs. You pat his back. “And after you’ve explained it to me a lot..” He groans, shoulders slumped dejectedly.
It was already rather late—you don’t think the library should even still be opened at this hour but perhaps the librarian overlooked your presence when Deuce looked as miserable as he did.
Or it was just because you’re located in the far corners where not much students go by.
“Do you want me to explain again..?” You offer tentatively, tangling your fingers in his hair and rubbing his head gently to ease a potential headache. You receive a shake of the head. It’s not that the material is heavy (at least you think it’s not), maybe it’s because Deuce has a short attention span..? You’re not sure.
As if a light bulb flickers atop your head, you raise your head in realisation. The idea is so.. indecent but you think you’ve seen this move work in a cheap movie.. a cheap R-rated movie but like..! It won’t hurt to try (you hope).
Leaning close to his ear, Deuce flinches when you blow soft air against his skin but he doesn’t lift his head. “I have a veery special method that might help you, Deuce-chan,” the tone you use is breathy, your hands under the table taking hold of Deuce’s and pulling it to your thigh. “For every question you get right, I’ll reward you~”
Ah.. shit. You’re seriously getting hard because of this. But to your defence, it’s because Deuce’s hand is impossibly close to your crotch so..! Although you were the one who put his hand there…
Shaking away the alarms (again), you press a wet kiss to the exposed skin of Deuce’s neck and he flinches in surprise; his skin burning against your lips. “Um.. Senpai..” He murmurs, turning his head slightly and you feel your cock twitch at the way Deuce is looking at you.
Burning cheeks coloured in red spreads over his face, eyes half-lidded and staring up at you expectantly. His bottom lip trembles; pulled into his mouth when he bites down on the soft flesh. You think you’ll combust right there and then.
“What do you say, Deuce-chan? Let’s both do our best, hm?”
You see the way Deuce’s breath visibly hitches. The latter lifts himself up slowly, grabbing his pen and staring down at the practice questions. “I’ll do my best.”
Despite the arousal burning in your being and the growing strain against your pants, you feel the warm feeling of pride and adoration blossoming in your stomach as Deuce tries again. But watching can’t be enough… “Twenty minutes, Deuce~” You sing-song and Deuce looks at you in alarm. “Real quizzes have time limits, don’t they?” You elaborate and Deuce nods, going back to his questions.
Distracting yourself from the strain in your pants, you get up to keep your body moving. It’s difficult to walk but you’re not fully hard yet so it’s not as painful as you thought. Now that you’re not tutoring Deuce anymore, it gives you time to really take in how empty the library is. Some lights are already turned off in the opposite wing and it makes you worried if you’re possibly locked in…
You hear Deuce call out your name, lifting his paperwork with a proud smile. “You’re already done?” You question, bewildered. You think it hasn’t even been ten minutes. Deuce nods handing you the paper. He doesn’t look as nervous as previous attempts either…
You skim over the page, feeling both awe and confusion when you find there’s less mistakes than before. How even… “So you function better when offered a reward…”
Hearing your self-musings, Deuce splutters, chair scraping against the floor in his haste to get up. “Th- that’s not it! I.. since you offered so I.. wanted to do my best..” he sighs, sagging slightly like a dejected puppy.
You hum, placing the paper away and opening your arms. “I know, I was just kidding~ Now, it’s time for me to keep my end of the deal..” Once his hand makes contact with yours, you yank him closer.
Deuce stumbles slightly, falling into your chest and his shoulders jump when you crash your lips against his. A small whimper leaves his lips and you snake your arms around his waist to pull him closer.
The kiss is all things messy; your mouth slanted perfectly against his and tongue licking into his mouth. The growing lack of oxygen is the reason you pull away, Deuce gasping weakly and leaning against you as if he’s lost all his strength.
“You did so good, baby,” you groan, cock growing harder in your pants and you buck your hips against Deuce’s thigh. “Trying your best like this… You deserve the best reward~”
Your lips find the skin of his neck, sucking cherry blossoms against clean canvas. You maneuver yourselves so that the back of Deuce’s thighs hits the edge of the table. Kicking the chairs away to make room, you hoist the younger male until he’s seated on the hardwood.
“Can you feel how hard I am?” You purr, fingers unbuttoning Deuce’s blazer and moving to his shirt once that was out of the way. Your lips trail kisses down every inch of exposed skin; following an invisible line from Deuce’s neck and down to his stomach. As expected of a Track and Field member, his body is well toned.
“Senpai..” He moans weakly, spreading his legs for you and you kiss the skin above his navel, mouthing the dip to his v-line and trailing just above his pants. Breathy whimpers leaves your boyfriend’s lips, muffled by his hands. His skin prickles with want from every smooth glide of your fingers on his body. Deuce thinks he’ll pass out if you don’t do anything soon.
You unbuckle his pants swiftly, pulling down the hindrance along with his boxers. He’s so painfully hard… Cock flushed and leaking small amounts of precum. You brush your lips against his tip, trailing to his base and sucking the side of his cock.
As if spurred by his adorable whimpers, you engulf Deuce’s cock in your mouth; licking and sucking every part you can reach. “A- ah! Senpai..!” He wheezes, breath hitching in his throat and hips pulling away on instinct but you wrap your arms around his thighs to keep him close; almost pulling the younger male off the table.
You swallow around his cock excitedly, trailing your hand up his chest and pinching his cute nipple. Deuce bucks into your mouth on instinct, holding your hand pinching his nipple by the wrist but he doesn’t push you away.
You feel the way Deuce’s things tense, taking the sign of his approaching climax and fucking your mouth on his dick. The tent in your pants is borderline painful and you grunt, pulling away from Deuce’s cock to suck on his tip, using your hand to squeeze his base and frantically tugging your pants down. Multitasking can be so difficult when you’re distracted like this.
Deuce breathes heavily, whispering senpai, senpai, senpai under his breath like a prayer and when your hand grabs hold of his balls, Deuce is coming in your mouth with a violent shudder. You moan, satisfied at the feeling of warm cum filling your mouth and you squeeze your dick to make sure you won’t cum yet. No.. you have to make sure every drop of your cum is fucked inside your pretty junior.
Lifting yourself up, you discard the blue-haired’s pants the rest of the way down, Deuce kicking it away somewhere and spreading his legs for you to press your dick against him. You smirk grabbing hold of the back of Deuce’s head and it’s a bit belated for the latter to realise that your mouth is still full.
The kiss is so fucking dirtyーeven more than beforeーyour mouth prodding his open and sharing cum. Your eyes stay half-lidded to watch his expression; dark eyes glazed with hazy lust.
He moans into your mouth when your dick, impossibly hard, rubs against his hole teasingly. His arms wrap around your neck, tongue licking into your mouth to taste more of himself on you as your dick finally pushes into him.
Deuce pulls away from the kiss, gasping for breath and looking so obscene with saliva connecting your lips and his cum his tongue. Shitーnow you have to fuck him to oblivion.
And you do.
“Khg-! S- senpai.. So big..” The words leaving Deuce’s lips are incoherent. Mixtures of moans and babbles as he hugs your closer. His cock bounces against his stomach, weak spurts of cum dribbling down his length as you fuck into him like a crazed man.
He feels so right wrapped around you. Body and soul made just for you and you only.
“So fucking perfect. My perfect junior- perfect boyfriend, just-! A- ah.. shit…” Your lungs are failing you. It feels too fucking good and Deuce’s hold on you is so fucking tight that you don’t mind dying like this. You think you might die like thisーkilled by your boyfriend and you wouldn’t have it any other way-!
A hard thrust and your vision explodes behind your eyelids as you flood Deuce’s insides with cum. Heavy globs filling him up to the brim and Deuce gasps with each heavy spurt inside him. He feels so fucking full.. filled with only you and a lopsided smile stretches his lips.
You’re definitely not dead yet, fortunately or unfortunately. Deuce’s arms losen enough to allow you to pull away but you don’t; wanting to be in him just a little longer. The flush on Deuce’s skin is still heavy, eyes still glazed over and breath still a little heavy.
You cup his face, smiling at him with all the adoration you feel for him and pulling his face to yours. You kiss him like he’s made of porcelain; something to be taken with great care and such a contrast to everything leading up to this.
When you pull away, Deuce leans his forehead against yours, having calmed down a little. “Senpai,” he starts, voice a little hoarse. “Can you.. stay inside me longer..” he’s voice is so quiet that if you weren’t so close, you think you might not have heard him.
A small gasp leaves Deuce’s lips, flinching in surprise and he looks up at you with wide eyes when feeling your cock twitch inside him. You blush, closing your eyes to avoid his shock and trying to compose yourself. “Sure thing..” You agree, clearing your throat and Deuce hugs you to him.
The two of you stay like that for a while and it’s only when your legs decided they’ve met their daily quota of standing do you lift Deuce off the table. He squawks, clinging to you in panic as you nudge a chair closer to the tabe. A small yelp leaves his lips when you sit down and Deuce is forced to take your cock deeper when gravity plays in.
He moans softly, blinking and looking down at his stomach as if he can see the way your cock sits snugly inside him. A small grin settles on your lips, moving forward to place your hands on the table and trapping Deuce in between. “Let’s start with method number two now~”
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“It’s all thanks to your method!” Deuce’s eyes sparkle as he clutches your hands. A small reddish hue dusts his cheeks in faint colour. You freeze.
You don’t think it’s a correct reaction to be looking so mortified from such great newsーDeuce passed his make-up quiz which in turn saves his final grades so..!
Panic flares up in your system; blood rushing to your head and all over the place. You think your heart might explode with its erratic beating. “Um, Deuce... I- I really don’t think it’s because of that..” you start but fail to get your message across when the younger male tugs at your blazer, face burning and a small smile on his lips.
Th- there’s no way you can do this for every exam, right..!?
