#some more fluff with papa red
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Old Friend
Summary: You meet an old friend in your shopping trip with the family.
Nothing but a slice of life, fluff, bit of angst and a jealous Miguel ~
Whenever it was restock day, Costco or Walmart would be the main places to go.
You'd get the list, Miguel would secure Rosie to his chest, as Benjamin would get inside your cart. Gabi would walk alongside you or her beloved Papa, pushing his cart.
Each would take separate ways, you'd get the meats and veggies, as Miguel would get the rest, powder detergent, cleansing products, and snacks.
"Mama, can I have these?" Benjamin swayed his feet pointing at the colorful packaging of dinosaur shaped nuggets.
"Course you can, mi niño. Which one you want?"
"I tried the red one last time, I'll get the purple"
Benji's boyish voice echoed around you as you stopped on the frozen meals section.
"Alright, purple it is."
You picked the purple package, a triceratops and a T-Rex on the cover. Then, filled the cart with different sort of meats, Miguel's favorite cuts, hams and of course, lots of canned jalapeños. Orange, pineapple, and cranberry juice, a couple of sodas and finally you got to go to the cereal and coffee aisle.
Miguel was running out of coffee in his office, and back at home you only had a couple of packages. It reminded you the time Miguel nearly had an anxiety attack when he found out he had ran out of the black liquid gold, even in his secret stash.
For some reason the brand he always bought was put on the top shelves. With a huff you looked around to see if there was any ladder, but upon finding none, You stepped on the bottom shelf, trying to get the six pack in the edge, but obviously, you couldn't reach it.
Benjamin giggled when you missed, as revenge you smothered his face in kisses, earning you a loud and bubbling squeal.
"Here, let me." A deep voice rumbled behind you. Your eyes widened at the all too familiar face before you. Reaching effortlessly for the coffee packaging.
"Richard" you mumbled while taking the package, to then put it on the cart.
"Hey" His hand waved softly. Clad in a hoodie, bermudas and sneakers. A little gold band hugging his ring finger. Dull, as his overall aura.
Despite the years coming through, he hadn't lost his kind green eyes. Some wrinkles adorned his matured face. Ricky was only two years older than you, and still had some white hairs poking out here and there.
He sported a short and well trimmed beard, hair parted and neatly arranged to a side. His eyes darted to the boy that undoubtedly resembled alot like you, except for his curious big and round red-ish eyes.
"Whose this little champ?" The smile on his face was coy, but genuine.
"It's my boy, Benjamin."
A proud beam stretched on your face as your hand caressed Benjamin's head, some of his curls trapping your fingers.
"Nice to meet you, champ." Ricky stretched his hands towards him and Benjamin shook it, a tad nervous.
"He definitely has your curls."
You smiled, eyes diverting behind him, ready to meet his partner but, there was none, just his half cart full of car appliances, some diary products and snacks.
"My goodness, you have a beard now."
Ricky chuckled and scratched it. He was a handsome man, undoubtedly. Good and well worked physique. Lean muscles, athletic and healthy looking. Green eyes a shade darker than green apples, pretty lips you liked biting and a healthy tan on his skin, despite him being a pale guy. A couple of freckles adorned his nose.
"And you've got a kid now." there was a bit of disbelief in his tone.
"Three actually. Funny how we ended up doing the things we always said we wouldn't do right away."
Richard gave a soft laugh.
"At least we look good. And I'm sure you're a great mom. How long has it been?"
"I don't know, I suck at math. But I do know it's more than ten years." You pushed the cart to get the cereals and naturally he helped you to get them. Eyes looking for Miguel in every chance you had.
"How have you been?" He tensed a bit at the question, not expecting your openness to talking so casually, specially when your finger shone with a golden band. He graduated college and never saw you again, until now. Gentle and caring as always. You hadn't changed, and he was glad.
"As usual. Existing, trying to keep myself afloat after, uh... my divorce." His mouth pressed in a tight line, green eyes looked away for a second, unable to meet your stare. Ashamed.
Your eyes blinked at his reply. Clearly surprised by such thing. Face falling with worry. "I'm sorry to hear that."
Richard shook his head, and gave a nonchalant shrug.
"Things happen. It's one of those situations that get your eyes open for good." Ricky rubbed his neck awkwardly and you offered a little reassure with a hand on his shoulder, patting it softly.
"Hey, you've got this. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure your problem solving skills are still top notch."
Hw chuckled, almost sympathetic at himself, "I don't even know anymore, if I'm honest. But if you say so."
The voices in the aisles kept indistinct, each in their own world, mingling with the upbeat background music.
"Also... I'm sorry." His eyes remained on yours. Something he'd always do when speaking truthfully.
Your brow quirked, "Whatever for?"
Ricky's hands squeezed the insides of his pockets as he spoke.
"For breaking up with you. Specially like that. It was a d-" He caught his tongue before continuing with the french before Benjamin, "It was wrong of me."
You could only stare at him, and he recoiled further in his spot, shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor.
"If something's worth saying, I... divorced cause my mom also ruined it for me."
You frowned, confused and he shook his head.
"So I cut ties, went to therapy and yeah." He reached out for a three pack of granola for himself, and another for you after you pointed at the brand.
"I'm sorry, I'm kind of confused as to why would you think I'd be happy to know something awful happened to you, Richard?"
Richard's brow puckered. You really hadn't changed at all. Even after he dumped you a few days before Christmas eve.
"I... don't know? Thought you'd hold a grudge for what I did."
"A grudge?" You tittered and this threw him off guard, "Not to sound mean or anything, but I didn't even remember what had happened until now. You know I'm forgetful."
You both chuckled as he nodded.
"Yeah, kinda wondered if you'd lose your head too if it wasn't attached to your body."
You gasped while mocking offense, "That was rude."
You grabbed a couple of cereal boxes Benjamin pointed at.
"But true. In all seriousness, I'm glad that at least something great came after me. Is he a good man?, wait..." He shook his head softly, "Stupid question Of course he is, you married him."
You beamed and this made his chest swell in a mix of happiness and pride. You deserved it after all he also put you through.
"You'll find someone, I know so." It always made him wondered why he was stupid like that to allow his mother come in between.
"I'll give myself a couple of years to heal first. Wanna make sure I don't repeat things over."
It was your turn to get that pride sensation in your chest. Knowing he was making a good progress out of his mother's shadow also made you happy. You out of everyone knew how hard it was like.
"Hope they're ready to listen country music nonstop in your car." He rolled his eyes.
"I know you hated the genre, that's why I always played them"
Your lips pursed with faked anger as he tittered, however, Ricky cleared his throat off the laughing upon watching a behemoth of a man, approaching from behind. Red eyes set on him. A shudder crawled on his skin as he gulped. The baby on his chest did little to appease the intimidating aura around him.
"Mama!" Gabi came to you with an excited face as she showed you her new acquisition. A purple and glittery cover for her phone.
"Qué lindo! Do they have it in blue too?" (How cute!)
"Nah, it was the last one, Papa said this would match with my room too."
Said Papa hugged you from behind, and kissed your temple, red eyes never left him. Ricky gave Miguel a polite smile as he backed away a few steps. Miguel's strong features only turned sharper. It would be a lie to say if Ricky wasn't surprised and intimidated.
Surprised cause you hugged Miguel's narrow waist, a pleased and proud purr emanated from his chest. Loud enough for only you to hear it.
The man before him screamed danger a mile ago. But also, explained lots of things. Like Benjamin's eyes.
"Richard, this is my husband. Miguel O'Hara."
Ricky hesitated for a second, but stretched his hands towards him, big tan hands easily enveloped his in a firm shake.
"Nice to meet you." His nervous smile was like fuel to your husband's ego.
Miguel acknowledged him with a brief nod, eyes not tearing away from him. A quiet She's mine in his eyes.
"Richard and I used to go at the same college. Oh! This is my eldest daughter, Gabriella. And my youngest baby, Rosie."
Gabi smiled politely while holding onto Miguel's hips.
"You have a beautiful family." His green eyes stared at an ever curious Rosie that gazed back at him. Miguel's shoulder's tensed when Rosie gave Ricky a smile.
"Thanks, You'll be fine though. Things take time, but, It all comes together somehow. Just be patient. I'm glad you're doing good on your own." Again, you patted his shoulder, he just gave you a small but genuine smile. Miguel's guts churned as his jaw clenched.
Ricky left after saying his goodbyes, not wanting to impose his presence any further.
"Gabibi, mi amor, can you get the food cart to the line, please?"
"Okay. Don't take too long, please?"
Gabriella took the cart as Benjamin showed her his nuggets, leaving you and Miguel with Rosie alone.
"Alright, interrogation can start now." You chuckled and Miguel pulled you by your waist towards him, ebbing you to walk a few steps before giving a firm slap on your rear.
"Miguel!" you hushed, flustered while looking around to see of there were people and he smirked.
"Wanted to do that before that guy, but that wouldn't be too polite of me, wouldn't it?"
You kissed his cheek, but he quickly corrected the place and pecked your lips.
"That's better. Who was he anyway?"
"My ex from college."
He just hummed and it was your turn to return the squeeze, he chuckled, "Relax. He just got divorced and obviously not having a good time."
"Too bad." He shrugged, a bit nonchalant and you deadpanned.
"Don't be mean. You were scaring him on purpose."
"Obvio. Still, forgot to thank him." (Obviously)
You chuckled as you approached to the line, Gabi waved at you both.
"Thank him?"
"Well, he let you go, and I wouldn't have met you in the first place. So thanks to that."
"Well, he's there on the other line, go tell him."
You teased, but to your surprise Miguel stepped away from the beeline and was walking towards Richard.
"W-Wait! Miguel!" You had skip a few steps to catch him and pull him back to spot, he smirked while pulling you tighter towards him.
"Don't tempt me, mi reina."
"God, I swear. You're-"
"Your husband, mi amor." He smirked, satisfied at his own title in your life.
"A jealous one."
He leaned to your ear and whispered, "Espérate que lleguemos a casa. No te la vas a acabar conmigo, mi reina." (Wait till we get home. You'll see what's up.)
Gabriella rolled her eyes at the flirty atmosphere around you and covered Benjamin's eyes.
"You're too young to see that."
#t writes✨#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#soccer family ⚽🕷️#atsv miguel#gabi o'hara#miguel o'hara fluff#benjamin o'hara#rosie o'hara
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Headcanons
Father!Alastor & Child!GN!Reader
PURELY PLATONIC
TW:NONE!
A/N: I just have ideas for Papa Alastor and his little fawn gremlin child. To that Anon who came up with it! If you have any input don’t be afraid to reblog or shoot me an ask with your own (even if my askbox is closed just let me know it’s you). I was listening to ‘No More Birthdays by Sophie May’.
Domestic fluff with Papa Alastor and his little fawn.
Second Part
So- I don’t know if sinners “age” or grow up in hell but let’s say for the sake of this little post that they do but it's really really slow or you're just a little child forever..WHO KNOWS.
Anyways…you’re like a carbon copy of Alastor only smaller and maybe brighter colors (Where as he has dark red hair you have maybe lighter red hair or a different light color) and little white spots in your hair or fur, maybe some freckles too.
You are the only soul that is allowed to touch his cane without his permission or guidance, especially because he knows you like to wander off at times, not too far but when you both are walking down the street and he’s not feeling into physical contact he holds his cane out to you and that’s your cue to hold on. If he’s fine with physical contact? He’ll be holding your tiny hand into his, it’s something he got used to doing when he walked you to school those early mornings before he had to go to his radio station.
When he introduces you to Niffty and Husk? He’s not worried about Niffty, but he is glaring Husk down as you walk around the ex-overlord. You’re just curious. But once you get used to him you walk back over to your Papa and hold onto his cane, that’s his signal that you’re ready to go.
I’m a firm believer that sinners still feel the pain of whatever killed them in life when they get into hell as a reminder of why they are there. So speaking of that, Alastor gets hella bad migraines which he got used to easily but when he hears you coughing? He’s immediately by your side and holding a handkerchief to your mouth. He pulls you closer to him if it’s one of those bad coughs that make you wheeze really bad, he’s just a scared Papa and doesn’t know modern medicine well enough to get you the right treatment.
He dresses you in the fashion he’s used to, which is either a button down shirt with slacks or a dress. You’d wear a small little bowtie either around your neck or in your hair.
Now when he arrives at the Hotel with you? You’re automatically being held because he knows you as his child and how curious you are but also he’s a paranoid deer dad. But after a while? He’s letting you down and gently patting your back to let you wander around, just please stay in his line of sight for now. He walks around the hotel with you so you can see all the sights as Charlie and Vaggie are with him explaining everything.
Speaking of Charlie and Vaggie, they both terrified you and it almost sent Alastor into a frenzy. He doesn’t care if Vaggie points a spear at him but not at his little fawn. Charlie was just loud and that frightened you.
Angel Dust wasn’t allowed around you for a while, but once he was, he was very sober and didn’t utter a word about anything your ears shouldn’t know lest he faces the wrath of your Papa. He also gets you treats and gives you head pats.
You do have your own room next to Alastor’s and he makes sure it looks like it did when you were alive, filled with your favorite toys and books lining the shelves. He got Rosie to make you a new teddy bear that resembled him once more and you absolutely adore that thing.
You and Niffty are gremlins together but she keeps her eye on you the whole time and makes sure you don’t get hurt or in trouble. She’s also very helpful when you start having a coughing fit but if it gets really bad? She gets Charlie or Husk to help.
Alastor pulls Charlie aside one day whilst you are playing, “Charlie, you know I don’t believe in this silly little redemption thing as a whole but..if this does end up working, I want my little fawn to be up there. They don’t deserve to be down here with these disgusting and vile creatures. That’s all I care about.” He whispered glancing back at you as Charlie followed his gaze before smiling and nodding, “Of course, Alastor. How did..” She stopped herself as Alastor stood up tall. “They were sick ever since they were just a little baby..” He whispered out before clearing his throat and cleaning his monocle. He was done talking..reminiscing on his past mistakes.
When Mimzy comes around? He doesn’t let her near you, he knows what trouble she brings and he won’t stand for it if she dares harm a hair on your head. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s just he’d rather not feel the heartbreak he did all those years ago when he first lost you.
Some nights when you're fast asleep he holds you in his arms and sits on the floor. It grounds him when he feels you breathing, especially when memories of that night plague him and he can’t seem to catch a break. Even if he’s at his breaking point with physical affection, he will force himself to hold you just because those thoughts are plaguing him and he has to make sure you're breathing. His hands will rub circles on your back and he’ll let himself cry but it will be drowned out by soft jazz playing just in case someone walks by your bedroom door.
He also finds it soothing when he brushes and does your hair, even if you don’t have long hair he’ll brush it out for you in the mornings while he enjoys his coffee. He’s very careful around your tiny deer ears too. If you have trouble tying your bowtie or bow? Don’t worry, He is getting down on one knee and tying it for you while talking you through the steps.
100% you are his little sous chef/ taste tester. His love for spicy food is passed down to you and if it’s not spicy enough for you it’s definitely not spicy for him. While he himself doesn’t like to indulge in sweets, he’ll learn to make your favorite treat and surprise you with it.
Omg when Lucifer comes to the hotel? Alastor gets protective because now the King of Hell is talking to you and not him but he’s not being mean about it…kinda. He’ll make an off joke about Alastor and you’ll stomp your hoof and puff your chest out and headbutting Lucifer. It’s even better if you have little nubs where your antlers (if you have them) are growing in. That’s what the King of Hell gets for bad talking your Papa in front of you! It doesn’t hurt Lucifer but he gets the gist (he doesn’t)
A/N: Once again if anyone has any headcannons of their own go wild. These are just I thought of!
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord (figured since you drew those masterpieces, I'd tag you in some more little headcanons)
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#platonic#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor
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could you write a part for our boy series. Maybe Reader goes out with charles, Lando and the kids. And a man tries to fliert with reader infront of them. Maybe the dude thought reader isnt a mum and is single. Maybe with booth lando and charles reactions.
Get Your Eyes Checked
pairing: Charles x Reader x Lando
warnings: Fluff, it's just cute nothing angsty
Our Boy Masterlist
It's supposed to be an ordinary morning with your partners and children. The occasional fan who asked for pictures respectfully waved to the kids. Lando wearing Daniel's merch, and Charles with his signature summer shirt. The white button down and hair messy.
Thankfully, the kids wanted to sit with their Daddy and Papa so you could eat in peace. Cécile, only 5 months old, was going through a clingy phase with Charles, who was more than happy to accept the cuddles and drool. Shy of 5, Elijah was halfway in Lando's lap, coloring in some book they got.
Smiling at the scene, you snap a picture, settling on not posting it, wanting to keep this one for yourself. Cécile gurgles at Charles, waving her hands at her Papa, who makes silly faces at her. Lando smiles at Elijah, wanting to help him, but the young boy is dead set on doing it himself as he's now a big boy.
Leaning back in your chair, you watch the world move around you, enjoying the food and mimosa. It was a gorgeous day; the sun wasn't too hot, the wind was just perfect, and the smell of the sea was strong enough to be calming. Nothing could go wrong with this day, at least you thought.
"Hey, there, gorgeous." Craning your neck, you see a guy leaning over his chair, smiling at you. His buddies whisper and chuckle as they watch their dumbass friend try to hit on you. "Morning." It was curt and to the point, clear enough that that was the end of the conversation. But the dude didn't get the point.
"What's a bombshell of a woman doing here alone?" Turning your head again, you stare at him like he's a bug, unaware of the kind. "Trying to enjoy my brunch, clearly not happening." The friends all snicker as the guy just smirks, waving them off. "Aww, come on, don't be like that. It's clearly a vacation, have some fun." The guy pouts, which have you scuffing.
"She's having fun, douche. Leave her alone." Casting a look, you see Lando glaring at the guy, who finally takes notice of the two guys and kids. "Ditch the old people, darling. Just because you're the nanny doesn't mean you can't have fun." Sitting up, you see Charles's eyes covered by his sunglasses, but you can feel the anger radiating off him.
"I'm not the nanny; I'm their mother. Their wife." Pointing at the love of your life in front of you. "And I suggest you run along, little boy." The friends stop laughing as they turn to whisper. The dumb one stared in shock before rushing off. "He should get his eyes checked." The 3 adults look down at Elijah as he colors.
"What, little fish?" Elijah shrugs. "Get his eyes checked. Mommy is clearly with us. He's just dumb." Elijah grumbles, placing his crayon down and holding up his picture. "Look, it's us, Mommy!" You smile, leaning over the table and kissing Elijah. "It's gorgeous." Lando rubs Elijah's hair. Charles leaned over, kissing his son's cheek. "Good job, why don't you draw a red car next hm?" Charles asks, knowing Ferrari is his favorite team.
"Okay, I can give it to Uncle Los."
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#formula one#f1 scenario#f1 fluff#our boy series#f1 one shot#f1 blurb#f1 series#lando x reader#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris blurb#lando norris fluff#dad!lando#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc oneshot
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hi auds bear!! dunno if you saw charles' insta story of his new sky ad but now begging for a 2k celebration blurb of dad!charles <3
misspelled – cl16
genre: fluff, 2k celebration, girldad!charles
“It’s L-E-S, love.” He points to the piece of paper peppered with doodles. “Go ahead for me.”
The sun is high and sweltering, with noontime March heat, but still Charles is undeterred in his quest to get your daughter to spell his name properly. The evening prior, you’d presented him with a welcome home card signed by her, and addressed to Daddy Charlse—cue the Leclerc dramatics.
He’d pressed about a thousand kisses to her tiny face, thanking her over and over and keeping the card in his bag so they could cook dinner together. But once the pasta was finished and the toothbrush jingle was sang (twice) and he’d stowed her off to bed (three storybooks later), he padded over to your bed and sighed lowly, stopping just shy of the foot of it. Already you’d sensed his incoming anxious complaint.
It comes. “So. Charl-s-e.”
“She’s four, honey.” You’d shut your book softly, smiling. “She spells her grandmum’s name as Packal.”
“It’s because I’m always out for work, isn’t it?” He climbed into bed beside you, perching his chin on your stomach. “And this is also because Max keeps insisting he babysit, sweetie. I swear, he’s brainwashing my baby girl.”
You laughed; the vibration extended into him and he smiled fondly at your reaction. “Charles, it’s nothing. They’re working on spelling at school, you know—she’s got a few words she gets wrong sometimes, the same ones. But she’s learning.”
“Charl-s-e,” he’d repeated sullenly. “Charl-seh.”
“If it matters that much, why don’t you try teaching her tomorrow?” You swept your hand through his hair, mouth in a half-smile. “Make an afternoon of it.”
He’d taken your advice very seriously—woken up a bit earlier, cooked them both pancakes (and you French toast, as always) and led her into the yard for some daddy-daughter time. “If you’re thirsty, I made lemonade,” you sing-song from the patio door. “You two’ve been at it for a bit.”
There are scrapped pieces of paper with his name misspelled on most of them—there is the occasional success, though you’re guessing Charles wants just one more—and drawings of your family all over them. You already sense the influx of pictures Charles has on his phone, of these drawings and cards he always posts on his Instagram or sends to you.
At your announcement, Julia looks up, green eyes piqued with interest, grip on the red crayon loosening. But her father’s faster, gently coaxing her back into the mini lawn chair that sits on the yard. She nods along his careful instructions, writing slowly, sun filtering through her light brown hair.
You get short moments of reprieve like this during the season. It’s rare for Charles to visit if he’s in the thick of it—most of the time you travel to a different city to see him, Julia going from your hip to his arms in seconds once he spots the two of you. But this moment is irreplaceable: the sunrays on the grass, the lemonade waiting to be drank, the pieces of paper with Mommy and Papa, bunchfuls of grapes on the patio table.
He tries again. “Come on, love. C-H-A…”
She bounds into the kitchen five minutes clutching a final paper, which she shows you with a sun-tinged face of pride. CHARLSE, it reads still. You pour her a glass, wait for Charles to finish packing up the rest of the art materials Julia was too excited to do herself; he comes in a bit sweaty from the sun asking to see the card.
You hand him a glass and press a kiss to his cheek. “Still S-E,” you say, both of you reading over the various scribbles.
“I don’t care.” He pauses. “You see this?” He points to the lower part of the page.
Best Daddy Ever is written on it in wild vivid colors. You beam, love bubbling up in your chest overwhelmingly. He takes it from you and tacks it onto on the fridge, smiling. “She wrote that. I couldn’t have asked for a better card.”
#f1#charles leclerc#leclsrc2000#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc smut#f1 x reader
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Heavy sleeper
Husband!Miguel x Reader
//Fluff, Gabriella is around 5 or 6, reader's gender is unspecified but will be called mama
Usually when Miguel sleeps, he can be disturbed by the slightest of movement.
Once you wanted to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, but suddenly a hand stops your movement and you notice Miguel sleepingly grumble that you shouldn't go, after some affirming you will be back you finally get to relieve yourself.
Another time, Miguel was taking a nap on your lap while you read a book, you then heard your phone vibrate on a table nearby, deciding to check you moved to reach for it but before you could touch an inch of your phone, Miguel reach out to your arms and you froze, feeling bad to disturb on his nap you lay your hands ontop of his head to pet his hair, before you know it he goes back to sleep and with that you conclude that he's a light sleeper.
Tonight though was different, tonight he didn't stop your movements or reach out to you when you got out of bed early in the morning, and your happy to finally see Miguel getting his much needed sleep.
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While breakfast was sizzling, you hear tiny footsteps arrive to the kitchen, turning around you see Gabriella rubbing her eyes from sleep.
"hi mama"
You smile at the sight infront of you, her messy bedhair just like her father, you chuckle and said good morning to her telling her breakfast will be ready in a minute.
With that she sleepily nods and asks where her papa is.
"Papa is still sleeping dear" Gabriella nods and heads back to what you assume is her room.
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While you prepare the table while Miguel's coffee brews you notice theres quietness in the air, and for a household with a Gabriella in it, its odd.
Usually she would play around with her dolls narrating scenes and dialogues while she waits for breakfast but right now you don't hear any of it.
After turning off the brewer for awhile you head to her room to check up on her thinking maybe she fell asleep again, she isn't to be found in her room or the bathroom nearby it.
Before you could panic you hear giggling next room, yours and Miguels room to be exact.
Upon entering lo and behold the sight in front of you, you slightly gasp.
Your makeup bag opened and it's contents spilled all over the floor, your lipstick left opened,your blush and brushes mixed with different powders of who knows what.
But thats not what surprised you the most.
Aside from the mess on the floor you focus mostly on the mess on Miguels face.
His lips painted with shades of red that goes over his lips that makes him almost like a knock of version of The Joker. His eyelids dusted with glittery eyeshadow, His luscious eyelashes became extra luscious, his cheeks dusted with so much pink it became one big circle.
And his hand, oh, his poor dangling hand over the bed that became a victim to what Gabriella would call artwork is now painted multiple colors of whatever was available.
Gabriella turned around seemingly hearing your gasp and she tried to stiffle her giggles even more, your surprised Miguel slept thoughtout this whole fiasco.
With what your presented in front of you, you cant help but giggle too. You walk towards Gabriella and victimized Miguel sleeping form.
"Mama mama!" Gabriella excitedly whispered "Papa looks so pretty" Gabriella whispered to you and you can't help giggle at your little girl.
"He is, isn't he my little Picasso" you whispered back as Miguel continues to snore.
You took this chance to take a memor with since it's too good to miss it, So you took out your phone and Gabriella positioned herself in front of her snoring dad and smiled and with that you took multiple pics.
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Gsbriella was now downstairs with you helping you finish setting up the table until...
"GABRIELLA AND Y/N O'HARA"
You and Gabriella looked at each other and laughed till your stomach aches and laughed even harder when you hear heavy footsteps arrive in the kitchen
If you were laughing hard you were definitely laughing harder now with what seems to be a dejected Miguel whose angry expression you can't take seriously neither can Gabriella.
"Yo- you-" You can't seem to talk with how much air you laughed out your lungs.
"Papa you look amazing!" Gabriella happily exclaimed and Miguel looked at you for help but you were busy trying to breath air and with that Miguel accepted his fate.
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It was afternoon and Gabriella having his nap, Miguel is at work and you were relaxing on your couch.
"Hey Lyla, don't tell Miguel but can you send this pics to Peter and Jess?"
"And miss this chance to blackmail him with somethin? nah....Anddddd sent!"
"Thank you Lyla" you giggled
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#fluff#spiderman fluff#miguel x you#spiderman 2099#miguel fluff#domestic
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Ungrumpify Your Papa: Papa Emeritus II x afab!reader
Summary: It's your first holiday season with Secondo and you're determined to make him less of a grump.
Words: 6.9k (nice)
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!, reader is AFAB but there are no gendered words/pronouns, smut, fluff, lingerie, light dom!Secondo, teasing, brief mentions of overstimulation, holiday feelings, discussions of religion
AO3
A/N: Happy day 2 of the XXXMas at the Ministry series! Check out day 1 with Primo by @copias-sewer-rat in the links below, and stay tuned for day 3 with Terzo by @ghulehunknown and day 4 with Copia by @bupia (who also put together these incredible graphics)!!
Day 1 (Dec 20th): Naughty Presents (AO3)
Day 2 (Dec 21st): Ungrumpify Your Papa (you are here!)
Day 3 (Dec 22nd): Mistletoe'd (AO3)
Day 4 (Dec 23rd): Treasure Hunt (AO3)
Secondo is very particular about how he curates his living quarters. His taste is distinct and refined, but not to the point of tackiness. It’s obvious that he’d spent a non-trivial amount of time picking out his furniture after he became Papa, and even more time reorganizing his space to ensure you felt welcome after he’d asked you to move in with him. Every book, every pillow, every little trinket or decoration or memory has a dedicated place somewhere, and each piece is treasured and respected like it has belonged there for all of eternity.
So, you weren’t surprised when Secondo grumbled when you pulled out a red and gold plaid throw blanket for the holidays, but he’s gracious enough to allow it to live on the couch (so long as it is neatly folded after every use, of course). And you had to stifle your laugh when he’d come home to find a little mistletoe hanging from the threshold of his bedroom and had jumped nearly ten feet in the air thinking it was a spider.
He came to terms with the mistletoe, though, after realizing that every time he jumped when seeing it from his periphery, you’d come over and kiss him and remind him it was only temporary. He didn’t tell you that he’d let you keep the mistletoe up all year round if it gave him an excuse to kiss you more.
The tree you want, though… that’s another battle.
“Please?” You ask sweetly, snuggling with him under the aforementioned red and gold blanket.
“No, amore,” Secondo says.
You’re tracing gentle patterns into his bare chest and can feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. You watch as the soft, dark hair dusting his skin catches on your finger. “Explain to me your reasoning.”
Secondo chuckles—a low, deep sound that you can feel more than hear. “Must I explain myself past the fact that I simply do not want a tree?”
“But why?” You ask him. You lift yourself up onto an elbow and look down at him. The two of you had built a little nest of sorts in front of the fireplace in his sitting room. It’s the first night that the two of you, as well as the entire Abbey, are absolved from duties in a week-long observance of the solstice and Yule, and you had decided to spend it together, alone, and very naked.
Secondo sighs but there’s still a little smile on his face. He can’t help but adore you and your insistence. It seems to him that you’re determined to uproot his entire life. He would gladly shed his roots and the soil of comfort and routine they grow in if it meant seeing you happy, but where is the fun in that? He enjoys making you ask for what you want. He enjoys seeing you work for it. And, in some (most) instances, he enjoys pushing you until you resort to begging.
“Because,” Secondo begins, drawing you back down to lay your head on his warm chest, “there is no room for one. And we have nothing to put on it.”
You laugh. “This room alone is bigger than my old Sibling quarters. There’s plenty of space.”
“It could catch on fire.”
“Secondo, you don’t put a tree directly in front of the fireplace.”
“Well. Suppose there is an ember—“
“And,” you playfully cut him off. “We can find things to decorate it with. Warm lights, those red, wooden beads for a garland, little glass ornaments… It can be classy. We can make it match your taste.”
Your lover is silent for a moment, considering. “There would be pine needles everywhere.”
You laugh again. His tone of voice tells you that you’re close to cracking him. Oh, you’re well aware of the games he plays with you and take full part in them. The push and pull, the give and take of him letting you believe you’re in control and then showing you that this was his plan all along… even with something as mundane as a holiday tree, your heart speeds up and your face heats just slightly.
You’re still tired from the evening’s activities, after all.
“We can get a fake one,” you offer. “Small, too. Nothing unmanageable. And I’ll string the lights on it because it’s a pain in the ass.”
Secondo traces lines back and forth over your shoulder, tickling your skin. “You speak like the decision is already made, amore.”
“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to back down yet.”
He chuckles again. “Sto solo scherzando. Will it make you happy?”
You prop yourself up again and press a kiss to his lips. “It will,” you say softly. “But I don’t need a tree to make me happy. If you really don’t want one, we won’t have one.”
“You said it yourself,” Secondo says against your mouth, “that it is temporary. I will survive.”
You feel his mouth curl into a small smile against your own when you kiss him again. You’re sure yours must feel the same.
~~~
You and Secondo stroll leisurely through the rows of trees. The display is pretty, and nostalgic—it’s been staged to look like a small grove of real trees, with the stands cleverly hidden by piles of snow at the bases. Some of the trees are fully decorated, and some have only lights, but most are completely bare to emulate a tree farm. Somehow the staff had managed to make the display smell like pine and a hint of cinnamon, and if you close your eyes and listen to the winter breeze and the jingling of bells on the storefront door, it feels like a real tree farm.
“You know,” you say to Secondo as you stop in front of a tree with fake snow on it, “you never told me why you didn’t want a tree.”
Secondo regards the tree for a moment and, seeing how easily the fake snow flakes off of the limbs with just a slight breeze, gently tugs you towards the next one. “It is not necessarily the tree that I am opposed to,” he says. “But the commercialization of what is supposed to be a holiday.”
You’re silent for a moment as you think about his words. He does have a point. There are a fair few seasonal decorations that you find to be unbearably tacky, but the ones you do enjoy carry a warm nostalgia. “I see,” you muse. “For a while after I converted, it was hard to rationalize the holiday because it’s so ingrained in our culture to be a Jesus thing.”
“Esattamente,” Secondo nods. “Even though most of it is taken straight from Pagan traditions.”
You stop in front of a plain tree, not any taller than Secondo, with simple, warm white lights. “That helped me rationalize it,” you tell him. “To know that modern Christmas is an amalgam of different things, and that there’s no right way to celebrate it. It doesn’t make us bad Satanists because we have a tree, or bake cookies, or wrap gifts. There doesn’t have to be any religious undertone.”
“You are right,” Secondo says after a brief silence. “What is that term… when people use a word incorrectly enough times that the meaning changes.”
“Colloquialism?” you offer.
“SÌ. Christmas has become a colloquialism. Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, Christmas, whatever you wish to call it.”
“Is that why you never celebrated?”
Secondo looks at you, and he nearly loses his breath. The sun is going down so the sky is a deep blue, leaving your face to be illuminated only by the warm white lights of the tree in front of you. You look so cozy in your hat and scarf and coat. And you’re trying to understand him, understand why he is not a ‘holiday’ person. How he adores you.
“To a degree,” he says, looking away because he’s dangerously close to swooping you into his arms and kissing you silly. “The holiday has lost all its meaning beyond materialism. That is the way it seems. Why should I need a holiday to tell me when to gift things to the people who matter?”
“You don’t, I suppose,” you shrug. “But it’s not completely about that. It’s the thought, the warmth, the togetherness. This time of year is when people want to feel cozy and comfortable and happy. To surround themselves with the people and things they love. It’s cold, and dark, and the holiday allows us to indulge in the things we might feel guilty about at any other time of year.”
Secondo listens to your voice, and he understands. “I feel a bit like Scrooge,” he says softly. And he does—a bitter old man, learning the true meaning of Christmas… or something.
“Which ghost am I?” You ask, laughing.
“You are Tiny Tim,” he replies without having to think. “Not a ghost, but I think the wisest character in the whole story.”
“Satan bless us,” you say in your best impression of a small child. “Every one.”
In the end, Secondo chooses the tree you’d been standing in front of. He tells you that it was because he likes that it’s small and simple (which is true), but he’d seen how your eyes reflected the small bulbs and decided he couldn’t let that evening be the last time he sees that.
You also purchase simple glass bulbs, a modest tree skirt, and a silver garland to match Secondo’s green and silver color scheme in his chambers. When you arrive back at the Abbey excited to decorate, however, you remember that you’d forgotten to choose a topper. While he has his back turned to pour the two of you some hot chocolate, you sneak to the closet which houses his papal robes, and when he turns around, he finds his mitre situated crookedly atop the tree and your smug face pretending you don’t know how it got there.
“It is lopsided,” Secondo hums, handing you your mug.
“It has character,” you counter. You hide your smile behind the steaming hot chocolate.
Secondo smiles, too.
~~~
After the tree debacle, you wonder how far into the holiday spirit you can drag Secondo. You aren’t determined to make him the embodiment of Santa Claus, but you hope to ease his grumpiness. And honestly, it isn’t just the holiday that you want him to enjoy, it’s the whole season. Winter is cold and dark and oftentimes miserable, yes, but it doesn’t have to be. Not when you have someone to come home to after years of spending it alone.
So you suggest cookies. Because I love sugar cookies, you explain when Secondo asks. And Copia has a sweet tooth. And we need something to bring to dinner with your family.
Not at all because watching Secondo in the kitchen gets you going like nothing else.
You sit at the small table in his kitchen, watching him move. He’d shooed you out of the way after scolding you for suggesting you use a premade mixture of Betty Crocker sugar cookies, insisting that if you must make cookies, you will at least do it right. But how can you stay away from him when he looks like that?
He’s wearing his apron (which is, in and of itself, an incredible turn-on). The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscular forearms. And his hands, oh, his hands, are bare and flexing, kneading the dough as he mixes flour in pinch by pinch. The veins in his arms are highlighted in the overhead kitchen lights. His shoulders stretch and move, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight against his back again and again.
Sweet Satan, give me strength, you think. And Satan, ever the purveyor of sin and temptation, strips all the strength from your mind and whispers in your ear to go to him.
So you do. You quietly slip out of your chair and approach Secondo, taking in his perfect form. His broad shoulders, the slight pooch to his sides, his ass which is hugged so perfectly in his trousers, his hands kneading the dough ball like they knead the flesh of your thighs, your chest, your belly, your rear. Your hands slip around his middle and you press yourself against his back. You feel him pause.
“Amore,” Secondo says softly and you’re not exactly convinced that he’s chiding you. “You are a terrible distraction. Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta?”
You trace your hands up his stomach to his chest, relishing in his warmth. There’s probably flour on your hands and forearms and all over his apron, but you don’t care. “Can you blame me? You know very well what watching you in the kitchen does.”
“SÌ, I do, my dove,” Secondo hums. His hands are still now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your palms brushing up and down his body. Yes, he knows quite well what he’s doing to you. He’d be a liar if he said his insistence to bake the cookies from scratch was entirely innocent. But he supposes you know that. “Tell me, amore. If I were to turn around and lift you up onto this counter and spread your legs, what would I find, hm?”
Instead of answering him, you trail your hands back down from his chest, over his tummy, and down to the crux between his legs and pelvis, resting your palms there and squeezing lightly. You can already feel the stretching fabric of his trousers and know that if he turned around to make good on his promise, you would find him hard and aching. He heaves a trembling breath at your movements. It’s likely that he will punish you for this later, but is it really a punishment if it’s what you desire most?
It’s not often that Secondo allows you to take control like this. Even if it’s just a small movement, a little caress of his arousal, he’s quick to pull your hands away and make sure you find your pleasure first. But slowly, his hands begin to work into the dough once more, and he makes no further comment. Your own hands find the button of his trousers and tug it open.
“Amore,” Secondo hums in warning when your fingers brush along the length of him over the fabric of his pants.
In a stroke of confidence (and maybe a touch of curiosity as to what might happen if you poke the sleeping bear), you reach down his front to grasp him over his briefs. It’s only for a moment before you’re withdrawing your hand and fumbling his button closed again. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades and step away. “Sorry, love. Cookies take precedence.”
Then, you’re pressed against the kitchen table, your wrists pinned beside your head as Secondo looms over you and presses his hips to your own. His breath is hot and his voice is low in your ear as he speaks. “You know very well that I would ravish you right now,” he growls, rutting his hips forward to spread your thighs even further. You can feel just how honest he’s being and you sigh with the contact. “If it were not for this dinner… this cena maledetta…”
There’s flour all over your clothes from his apron pressing against your front. The tip of his nose traces a path up from the sensitive skin below your ear, across your cheekbone, to rest against yours. His lips brush your own as he speaks. “Do not think I do not know what you are doing.”
“I know you know,” you say, your voice sultry. You arch your back up off the tabletop and press your chest into his. “That’s why I do it.”
“Sei una tentazione,” Secondo whispers. “Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti?”
Your jaw slacks open when he presses his hips even harder against yours. He takes the opportunity to lean in and nip at your lower lip, tracing his tongue along it and tugging. “One day,” you gasp when he pulls away, “I will understand when you say such filthy things to me in Italian.”
“You tell me that not knowing is a thrill.”
“Oh, it is. But sometimes I wish I could understand what depraved things you’ll do.”
“Let me put it plainly, then,” Secondo says. He takes the shell of your ear between his teeth and squeezes your wrists just a bit tighter. Your thighs lift as he presses himself against you completely. “We are going to make these cookies. We are going to Terzo’s dinner party. And we are going to stay for however long is acceptable before I take you back here and punish you for teasing me.”
“Yes, Papa.”
~~~
Oh, you hate him.
Not for last night when he’d punished you, no. You very much do not hate him for that. You’d gone to bed with trembling legs after he had to help you to the shower. He compared you to a newborn deer but held you steady as you wobbled, and then gave you one last orgasm in the warm water before the two of you retired to bed.
Rather, you hate him because he’d been waiting for a reason to punish you last night. He’d been searching for an excuse to make you fall off the edge of the world, more than a few times over, because he’d planned to take you and your wobbly legs surprise ice skating the next morning and thought it would be funny to watch you scramble.
“I hate you,” you grumble as you cling to his hand with a vice-like grip. “I hate you and your stupid memory.”
Secondo laughs quietly and supports your weight. You almost lose balance when he leans down to speak lowly in your ear, but he keeps you upright. “I did not hear you saying that last night when I remembered where to touch to make you–”
“Alright, alright,” you interrupt, your face heating. “But last night I didn’t think I had to tell you to take it easy so I could stand upright today.”
“That is the fun of it, amore. Seeing you wobble, knowing I did this.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “How is your ass? Sore?”
“From you spanking it or from falling on it four times?” You ask.
“Either way,” Secondo stands up straight again, “I suppose the answer is the same.”
You huff. “I used to be able to do spins as a kid,” you tell him. “And now I can barely stand on skates because of you and your fingers and your tongue and your little Secondino.”
“He is not very little though, is he?” Secondo asks, and you could smack him if he wasn’t completely right. You’re wobbly because he’s not little in the slightest.
You’re grateful, though. You’d mentioned how you used to go ice skating as a child, and how you haven’t in a very long time. In previous relationships, that was that. You would mention something you miss, or an activity you used to love, and that would be the end of it. But with Secondo, dear, attentive, lovely, grumpy Secondo, it’s different. You feel heard for the first time in your life. And that might be terribly cheesy, but it’s true. He does more for you than the absolute bare minimum you’d grown to expect from partners and you feel positively spoiled. If you can give him even half of the happiness he gives you, you’re happy. You would give him the world and the sun and the moon if you could.
Secondo notices your silence and squeezes your hand, warm and cozy in the gloves Terzo had gifted you at his dinner last night. “Where did you go, dove?”
“Sorry,” you shake yourself from your reverie and blink away the sudden tears of gratitude and affection. “I just love you. Thank you for taking me skating.”
“You’re welcome. Anch’io ti amo.”
Eventually you find your sea legs and show him the (very basic) spins you know how to do. You manage not to fall on your ass a fifth time. And then you begin to seethe because, of course, Secondo is perfectly balanced and graceful and can skate like he was born on the ice. Your poised Papa is always so composed and you feel like, as he’d said, a newborn deer perpetually falling.
You hate him, but that doesn’t stop the heat from building in your lower belly. Again.
~~~
The next day is the Ministry’s observed holiday. Most of the Abbey’s residents choose to spend it honoring the Olde One in sin with loved ones—eating, drinking, laughing, fucking. You and Secondo are no different, having celebrated the holiday with family and friends at Terzo’s dinner two days prior.
That was the intention of hosting a dinner two days before the holiday. So that one might be able to honor Satan and the unholy observance without having to worry about family coming.
You are absolutely not complaining. You spend the morning sleeping in, held in Secondo’s strong, warm embrace. When you wake, there’s no rush to get out of bed. He apologizes for your sore (and slightly fall-bruised) ass by rubbing and kneading it with gentle hands, pressing kisses down your spine with no sense of urgency or implication of more. You want there to be more, but you have something planned for later.
You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to wait for later to arrive.
In the weeks leading up to the holiday, he’d told you not to worry about finding a gift for him. He said that you are enough, that spending time with you and just seeing you is enough of a gift. That you’d somehow managed to soothe the harshness in his soul. In his Secondo way of saying those things, which is less sappy. But you know that the sap was there, so you found a gift for him anyway.
The gift, of course, is something practical and utilitarian. Fit for Secondo’s taste but not something he already has. Something you know for a fact he’ll enjoy.
That’s the list of things you’d written in your head when debating whether or not to buy the expensive, green satin lingerie with silver buckles. And of course, you needed a robe to hide it with so he can unwrap his gift.
Although neither of you want to get up from the cozy cocoon of bedsheets you’re tangled in, your stomach begins to growl for breakfast.
“Hungry?” Secondo asks from where his face is nestled against your neck.
“Very,” you say, and make no move to get up. Neither does he.
Your stomach growls again.
“Hush,” Secondo says softly. “I am comfortable.”
After the third growl, you laugh, and Secondo pushes himself off of you to sit upright. “Coffee?”
“Please,” you nod.
When Secondo stands to walk into the kitchen, shirtless and practically glowing in the morning sun coming through the windows, you decide that later can come whenever you like. He can spend all day and night unwrapping his gift over and over and over if he wishes to. You can’t bear to wait.
You slip away with the box containing your robe and underthings and lock yourself in the bathroom. It takes you a few tries to align the straps correctly so you can slip your head and arms through where they’re supposed to go, but the lower portion is more straightforward. The set is simple once it’s situated correctly. There’s a strip of fabric leading up the middle of your chest and around your neck, clasped at the front with a silver buckle, not entirely unlike a collar. The thin straps accentuate your chest and shoulders while still leaving most of your skin exposed for Secondo to leave marks on. The bottoms are strappy as well, with an attached garter belt secured with two silver buckles matching the one on your neck. Observing yourself in the mirror, you feel powerful. You know exactly what this will do to Secondo, and do for him. You feel powerful in the knowledge that you are about to allow him to overpower you.
You only hope the lingerie doesn’t get ripped in the process.
You slip the robe over your shoulders and close it, offering only a peek of the fabric around your neck, and fix your bedhead before exiting the bathroom. You stride into the kitchen like absolutely nothing has changed and find Secondo, gathering ingredients for breakfast and still shirtless. If you hadn’t changed into the set you’re wearing already then you would turn tail and do it now.
But, you steel yourself and enter the kitchen, making a beeline for your favorite mug which he’d filled with coffee. “Thank you, love,” you say softly. You lean against the counter and take a sip. It’s delicious but you couldn’t care less about the coffee right now.
“Amore,” Secondo says lowly once he catches a glimpse of your new robe and the fabric peeking out underneath. “What is this?”
He raises his finger to trace along the strip of fabric running down your chest until it disappears under the robe. “You said not to get anything for you,” you tell him, trying to act like the simple touch isn’t burning your skin. “But, did you really expect me not to?”
“Sathanas, you are sent to me by the Devil himself,” Secondo groans. He takes your mug of coffee from you and places it on the counter. “How must I wait until we have eaten when you…”
You gently take his other hand and intertwine your fingers. It’s not often that Secondo has no words. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re sure he can feel it beneath his fingertips. “Don’t wait, then,” you say.
Slowly, Secondo traces his hand down your chest, over your sternum and towards your navel where your robe is tied closed. He pulls on the end and the robe falls open, revealing the set of lingerie adorning your skin. You feel his hot, shaky breath fan across your face as he takes in the sight of you. As if in reverence, he gently pushes the robe off your shoulders. It falls at your heels and you’re left bare in front of him, skin hot yet somehow covered in goosebumps. “Sathanas,” he curses again, thanking his maker for you.
Secondo places his hands on your waist and draws you towards him. Your own hands rise to his chest and you find that his heart is beating just as quickly as yours. Your lips meet somewhere in the middle, warm and desperate and passionate. He kisses you like it’s the last time, but also like you’re made of glass. Like he wants to ravage you and worship you at the same time but can’t decide. His tongue licks into your mouth, tracing your bottom lip. He tastes like coffee and Secondo.
You nearly stumble when he begins to push you but you quickly understand his mission. His hands guide you out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, walking you backwards while his lips never leave your own. “Sathanas,” he groans a third time. He can’t think of anything but you, the feel of you, the taste of you, the sight of you. The only word from his mouth is a prayer at your altar.
Secondo guides you until the backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he lifts you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator taunting his prey. Your thighs part on instinct to welcome his body between them. The cool air of the room reaches your aching arousal and you realize that you’re already embarrassingly wet.
His hands slide up and down your sides, to your hips, the tops of your thighs. He traces his fingers over the fabric of the garter belt, snapping the strap against your skin and smirking at the sound. “You are sin,” he growls as he leans down to latch his lips to your neck. “I need you.”
“Take me,” you moan, and your voice comes out more desperate than you intend for it to, but you’re past the point of caring. You want him to know that you need him, too. “Please, Papa. I’m yours.”
Secondo’s mouth trails down your chest, leaving wet kisses and little marks as you’d predicted (and hoped). He finds the hard peak of your nipple through the thin satin and lathes his tongue over it, eliciting another moan from your lips. “Say it again for me, amore. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You, Papa,” you breathe as his teeth gently bite down on your covered nipple. “I belong to you. Only you.”
“Guisto. You are mine and mine alone.”
His mouth moves to your other nipple and, as if to accentuate his statement, he gives it a harder nip. You gasp at the sensation and arch your back into his mouth. “Papa…”
“Hm?” Secondo hums, and the vibrations make you moan once more. “What is it, tesoro?”
You know very well that he knows what you want, but you also know that he wants to hear you say it. “Please, your mouth,” you gasp. Your hands clutch at his shoulders and give an almost imperceptible push downwards. “I want your mouth, Papa, please.”
Secondo licks a path down your midsection. “Già così disperato per me,” he mumbles against the skin just above the garter belt. His lips blaze a path along the strip of fabric, and for the first time you wish it was gone. You’ve had your fill, he’s seen it all, and seen you in it. It can go away now. But, he takes mercy on you, and kisses his way to your pubic mound, also covered by the cursed fabric.
“Oh, amore, you are already dripping for me. I wonder if I can make you cum without taking these off, sì? They are already ruined, what is a little more?”
Secondo places a light kiss over your wetness through the fabric and your hips twitch upwards. Immediately his hands wrap around your thighs and grasp your hips, stilling you. “None of that,” he chides you, and repeats the kiss. You bite your lip to stifle your noises. That earns you a light slap on the outside of your thigh, and you gasp. “None of that either. I want to hear you.”
He licks a broad stripe up the entire length of your slit, humming as he does. Your hips twitch again but they can’t move in his firm grip. Your hands grip the bedsheets as you gasp. “Papa!”
You’re already so worked up that you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly. His tongue traces slow circles around your clit, sometimes dipping to press at your entrance but never straying for long. The fabric is practically plastered to the form of your core, but it’s not quite enough. It’s thin but it dampens the sensations of his mouth against your flesh just enough for your orgasm to elude you.
“P-Papa, please,” you pant. Your hand finds the back of his head to press him harder to you, but it’s still not enough. “Please, I need more. I’m so close, please…”
“Look at me, dove,” Secondo commands, and you obey. His cheeks are flushed and you can just barely see the shine of your wetness on the tip of his nose. “Look at me as I help you cum.”
He snakes one hand back towards your entrance and lightly presses there, then slowly works his middle finger under the fabric to dip into you. It’s frustratingly shallow, just to the first knuckle, but he knows you’re most sensitive there. His tongue flicks faster on your clit, still covered by the satin yet completely drenched, and you cum. “Papa!”
Your entrance clenches rhythmically around the tip of his finger. He growls and shoves the crotch of your panties to the side, latching his lips around your clit and sucking just as he pushes his finger deep into you. He finds the spot only he knows exists and you see stars as your first orgasm gives way to another, more powerful climax. You tumble down the side of a mountain of pleasure on his tongue and scream.
Secondo works you through the intense pleasure until the aftershocks roll pleasantly up and down your limbs, and your hips twitch up from oversensitivity. He pulls away and licks his lips. “Perfezione,” he says softly, crawling back up your body until he can kiss you properly. “Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua.”
You can taste yourself on his tongue. His hands softly stroke up and down your thighs, easing the trembling there. You sling your arms around his shoulders and pull him down so that his chest rests against yours. “Do you like your gift?” you ask when you’ve finally caught your breath again.
“Sempre,” Secondo hums. “Every time I touch you is a gift, amore.”
You lean up to kiss him again, because you don’t want to sully the heat and passion between you by crying at his sudden tenderness. “Let me make you feel good, too,” you whisper against his mouth.
When your hands begin to wander downwards, Secondo rises onto his knees and grasps your wrists firmly. The position mirrors the one you’d found yourself in two days prior, after the cookie incident, and your core clenches around nothing. “All I want is to be inside you,” Secondo growls. The tenderness is replaced by a fiery passion behind his eyes, and his grip on your wrists leaves no room for debate on who is in charge now. You’ve ensnared him with your gift, now he gets to unwrap it.
“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Papa.”
Secondo hastily pulls his sleep pants off and his cock bounces up against his lower stomach. You wish so desperately that you could touch him, trace the trail of dark hair from his chest all the way down to the base of him, but he still has your hands beside your head. “Stay just like this for me, sì?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question and you nod. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your ruined underwear and tugs. “Up.”
You lift your hips and he slides the soaked fabric down your legs and tosses it aside. Your hands, now unrestrained, itch to touch him. “Can I touch you?” you ask, your voice breathy and desperate. You’re hoping he allows it, because if he really didn’t want you to move, there are cuffs in his bedside table that he could have easily used to hold your arms above your head.
“Not yet, amore. You are doing so well for me.”
You whine, but stay still. Secondo parts your thighs again and slots himself between them. The tip of his cock brushes against your swollen clit and you gasp, rutting your hips upward to seek more. But he doesn’t enter you, not yet. You know what he’s waiting for.
“Please, Papa,” you say, canting your hips upward once more to accentuate your words. “I want to feel you, please.”
“Bene,” Secondo hums. “Così buono per me.”
Secondo positions the head of his cock at your entrance, and pushes in slowly. Your back bows off the mattress and you sigh. “Oh, thank you, thank you…”
Inch by thick, delicious inch, Secondo enters you until your hips press together and you can feel the tip of him nudging at your cervix. When he’s fully inside you, he pauses, giving you time to breathe and adjust to his size. You hold his gaze as he strokes your thighs, soothing you, urging you to relax around him. “You may touch me,” he says.
You bring your hands to the skin below his navel to trace along the strip of hair. Usually you like to kiss your way down, leaving little love bites along his happy trail, but both of you had been so desperate for this closeness that you couldn’t prolong the process. His muscles jump and twitch under your light touches. Slowly, you slide your palms up to rest on the sides of his neck and draw him down to kiss you. The shift in angle makes his cock move inside you and he brushes against the spot his middle finger had found just minutes ago, making you clench around him. He groans into your mouth at the sensation.
“Are we going ice skating again tomorrow?” You ask.
Secondo huffs a laugh. “No, amore. I plan to make your legs wobble without having to worry about a sore ass.”
You laugh with him and kiss him once more, then roll your hips against his. “Good.”
He grips you by the hips and begins to thrust shallowly in and out of you. The drag of his cock is divine inside you, and yes, your legs will very much be wobbling tomorrow because you intend to spend all day like this and it is barely breakfast. Your head falls down against the mattress and exposes your neck, yet devoid of marks, to Secondo. And who is he to pass up an opportunity like that?
His lips descend on your pulse point just as he increases his pace. This angle again makes his cock brush against the tender spot on your inner walls and it rips a moan from your throat.
“Sì, amore, let me hear you. Let me hear how I make you feel.”
“Ah, it’s so—so good, Papa, you feel so good inside me—”
Secondo increases his speed again. His teeth gently dig into the skin of your neck and you clench around him, making him growl into your ear. “My little devil,” he rasps. “Who do you belong to? Tell me again.”
“You, Papa! I’m yours!”
“Yes—ah, yes, you are mine. Only mine. Only I can take you like this, capisci? O-only I can make you feel this pleasure.”
Somewhere in the back of your mind you register that Secondo is being particularly vocal this time. His eyes never stray from yours, but his hands are everywhere—your hips, your thighs, your stomach, your chest. His fingers briefly dip into your mouth and you willingly accept them, lathing your tongue over them and tasting the remnants of your juices on his skin. His hips snap against your own, over and over and over, increasing in pace until you bounce back and forth on his cock in time with his thrusts.
With the fingers now covered in your saliva, Secondo brings his fingers directly to your oversensitive clit. Your hands clench onto any part of him you can reach, your fingernails scratching his skin and leaving red trails raised in their wake. You aren’t sure if you’re screaming or completely silent with the overwhelming pleasure. But your eyes feel magnetized to his own, like if you were to look away, the spell would break and the pleasure that’s building between you would dissipate entirely.
“P-Papa,” You gasp, breathless. “I–I’m—”
“Sì, amore mio. Cum around my cock. Cum for me.”
His desperate, almost animalistic command, paired with his fingers abusing your clit and his cock splitting you open so perfectly, send you hurtling over the edge of your climax and your vision goes white. Your entire being, your entire consciousness is centered between your legs and wherever he touches. The rest of you falls away into bliss as Secondo thrusts into you through your orgasm.
You’re still riding the tidal waves of pleasure when Secondo finds his own release, spilling inside you and slowing his thrusts until eventually he stills against you. As your awareness fades back in and your orgasm ebbs away, you realize that your legs are trembling, but so are his. Your chests heave together as you catch your breath. You relish in the warm weight of him on top of you and inside of you, tracing your fingertips up and down his spine.
When he manages to steady himself enough to hold his weight on his arms, Secondo pushes himself up just enough so he can plant soft, tender kisses against your lips. “Amore mio,” he mumbles reverently, “Sei la luce della mia vita.”
“I love you,” you respond just as softly. Though you don’t (yet) understand what he said, you can feel the weight of his words in your heart. He isn’t the type to deliver flowery speeches or long-winded declarations of love, but you know he feels it for you, as you do for him. The two of you don’t need words. It shines through the string lights on the tree in the living room. It wafts through the air on the scent of freshly baked sugar cookies. It follows you in the sound of skates sliding in tandem atop the frozen lake, and in the pleasured cries echoing in the walls of the bedroom.
Your stomach growls, and you feel the rumble of Secondo’s laugh deep in your chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Translations:
Amore - love
Sto solo scherzando - I'm only joking
Esattamente - exactly
Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta? - How am I supposed to bake these cookies with you tempting me?
cena maledetta - cursed dinner
Sei una tentazione...Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti? - You are a temptation...why must you be so tempting when I cannot have you?
Anch’io ti amo - I love you too
Giusto - Right
Tesoro - treasure, sweetheart
Già così disperato per me - Always so desperate for me
Perfezione - Perfection
Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua - So perfect for me. So loud when you cum on my tongue
Sempre - always
Così buono per me - So good for me
Capisci - Understood
Sei la luce della mia vita - You are the light of my life
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist (from my Camellia fic, I hope that's okay!): @bonelessghoul @gbatesx @the-did-i-ask @leah-halliwell92 @archive-obsess @rosacrose @sodoswitchimage @portaltothevoid @lightbluuestars @thesoundresoundsecho @stephnthangss @enchantedbunny @jackson5611-blog @copiasprincipessa @kadedoesthings @justheretoreadleavemealone @tiedyedghoulette @honimello @deetz-ghuleh @da-rulah @nijiru
#xxxmasattheministry#merryghostmas#merryghostmas2023#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus ii#secondo#secondo emeritus#papa secondo#secondo smut#secondo x reader#papa emeritus smut#papa secondo x reader#secondo x afab!reader#ghost band smut
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spotted | jjk
plot | This is how it started for the princess and the rockstar.
words | 3.8k
genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au
pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader
note | hi!! this is my first entry for this series and I'm so excited to write more about this pair in the future. let me know your thoughts! enjoy reading :)
main masterlist | drabble series
Royal Sisters, Princesses YN and Astrid Spotted Dancing at Sweet September’s Concert
On Friday night, the princesses were snapped watching the rock band at Crystalline Stadium.
Following the closing of the Royal Games earlier that day, Princesses YN, 25, and Astrid, 19, were spotted attending another big event in the country: Sweet September’s first Denim Jungle stop.
Fans of the rock band were stunned to see the two royalties in the said concert. Although the two sat in secluded seats in the stadium, they still attracted attention. Some concertgoers managed to capture pictures and short clips of the royalties enjoying the band’s performance– mostly Princess Astrid.
The usual contrast between the royal sisters is evident during their presence. Princess Astrid sported a rock-themed outfit with her oversized black leather jacket, red graphic tank top, flare jeans, and platform boots. On the other hand, Princess YN stayed true to her classy fashion style, wearing a black and white-collared Prada dress and knee-high boots. Both princesses wore black sunglasses during the whole event. The youngest sang and danced along to Sweet September’s tracks while the crown princess just nods her head to the beat.
Worry not! Princess Astrid made Princess YN jump and dance along with her during the band’s performance of their hit song, My Fair Lady.
“You two will have your own entrance and exit spots. Ronnie and Ben would accompany you two to the entrance and would meet you at the same gate after the concert.”
Your father’s trusty courtier, Eddie, guided you and your sister with what you’re supposed to do. There were rules you have to remember. Especially since Astrid practically begged your parents to not have bodyguards with her in this event. Your father only agreed to let her come if you come too, knowing that you rarely go out outside of your royal duties. But since you love your sister, you agreed to go even though you don’t really listen to Astrid’s types of music.
After the closing of Zafiro’s Royal Games earlier this day, your parents left for a conference in Scotland. That reason made you in charge of your younger sister. But since you two don’t really live in a simple household, you are still looked after by your Royal Staff for your safety.
“Is that all, Uncle?”
Astrid already had her arms crossed as she asked that. It’s been fifteen minutes since your car arrived in front of this secret entrance to the concert. But because of the King’s instructions, you and your sister are now itching in your seats to go.
Eddie smiled, noticing your sister’s tone, “I know you are excited about this concert, Your Royal Highness. But His Majesty still has one last message… and this is a very important one so listen.”
Your sister is ready to let out an exaggerated sigh. You are ready to calm down her rising shoulders. But Eddie continued,
“Please remind my lovely girls to enjoy the night amidst my tiring instructions. Take pictures and sing along. I would love to hear stories from them about this very important concert– based on what my Astrid said– when I and my queen get back from our short trip to Scotland. Follow what your Uncle Eddie says.”
A small smile formed on your lips with that. Finally, Eddie lets you two go with your bodyguards until the gate. Then, Gerald, a nice concert staff, welcomed you into the venue and led you and your sister to your seats.
“Oh, my god. I cannot believe Papa let us come here alone.” your sister said as she slipped the Xyloband into her wrist.
“I know…” your voice trailed off when you heard the people singing along to the song playing not too far away. You turned to the staff, “Excuse me, is the concert starting already?”
“No, Ma’am. We’re just playing the band’s music videos before they perform on stage. But they will be performing in a few minutes.”
You nodded with that. You went to concerts before, but not like this one. You liked jazz and classical music and would always try to go to concerts whenever you can. Those concerts are very much different than this band’s.
“These are your seats, Your Royal Highnesses,” Gerald spoke.
“Thank you so much.” you and Astrid said as you walked to the two empty seats.
With that, the staff left you. The seats are not that close or far from the main stage and it’s in the center. For safety purposes, your father and the security team agreed to not put you two in the floor spots where you can see the band better. Still, Astrid finds these spots great.
You assumed your father pulled some strings to make this possible since you heard from Astrid that the tickets were sold out as soon as it’s started selling. It made you wonder what’s good in Sweet September. You probably heard about them before, mainly because Astrid’s a rock-music enthusiast, but you don’t really know anything about them. Except that they recently worked with UNICEF for a campaign focused on cyberbullying. But you know nothing about their music.
“Oh, look at that! Look at those signs!”
Your sister was laughing while she points her finger somewhere. Your eyes followed where she was pointing.
DEAR CARTER, I’M A DRUMMER TOO. LET ME ROCK YOU! ;)
I SOLD MY CAR FOR THIS
MARRY ME MINGYU
HAIL KING WOOSUNG
CAN Y’ALL BE MY VALENTINE <3
Among those aggressive signs, there is one that made your eyes stretch wide and look away.
JUNGKOOK LET ME PUT OIL ON YOUR ABS
What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask Astrid but she was already talking to another fan who’s seating beside her. The said fan seemed surprised and delighted at the same time when she locked eyes with you for a second. You just smiled. As a highly-regarded crown princess, you know that they least expect you to show up in a rock concert next to them.
You then turned to your other side, where you immediately locked eyes with a lady who seemed a bit older than you. She instantly looked away and slowly looked back after a few seconds. She probably thought you were not looking at her anymore. But you are. And you can tell who she is by her awkward aura and stiff movements.
Part of showing respect to royalties, the public cannot talk to you until you speak with them first. So you decided to say something directly.
“Did the King hire you?” you asked her in a small whisper.
You don’t Astrid to hear it. You want her to focus on the fact that she is free from your parents’ overprotectiveness tonight. You can see the hesitation on her face but you can already tell that she is a secret security Eddie hired.
“It’s fine. I understand.” you gave her a reassuring smile. “Please, enjoy the concert too.”
The woman nods and bows subtly. You turned away. Astrid already has new friends. Between you two, she definitely is the friendlier one. It’s not like you are hostile. But she is just more carefree than you. Ever since you were a kid, you already followed the rules by the book. You know that you are in line for the throne and you need to be rightful for it. So you always try to be professional in your duties. You studied and work for your country.
“It’s a surprise to see you in here, Your Royal Highness.” one of Astrid’s new friends said.
“Please, just call me Astrid or you can add that princess title if you’re uncomfortable with calling me by name.” she quipped and they laughed. “Actually, the King only let me come here when Princess YN agreed to accompany me.”
Her friends’ mouths all formed into a small o. You waved at them, and they bow their heads. Suddenly, the lights slowly dimmed down and everyone began screaming– including Astrid. To say that your sister is excited was an understatement. It’s like she slept with a hanger in her mouth with how wide she’s smiling. Your cheeks hurt for her. But you’re happy to see her happy.
Taps on the microphone can be heard before someone cleared their throat, building up everyone’s excitement. You stood there, just listening to them and observing.
“Everyone, welcome to the denim jungle!”
Someone began playing a good riff on a bass guitar. The band’s silhouette is recognizable on stage. In the first beat of the drum, the lights snapped open. There, your eyes directly spotted the lead vocalist.
Droplets of sweat made his skin feel gluey as he ran his hand through his damp dark hair. His plain form-fitting white top is almost useless with how it almost got transparent with his body. His chest heaves as he removes his earpiece.
“Great show tonight, boys!”
A staff greeted them on their way down from the stage. After almost three hours of singing, playing with instruments, and interacting with the audience, Jungkook can finally feel relief in his body. With his throat feeling a little sore earlier, he was careful with it throughout the whole concert.
“Okay, let’s take a picture first!” a staff declared.
Jungkook, Carter, Mingyu, and Woosung lined up and posed for a couple of pictures that their staff would post later. After that, the four talked about their performance as they cool off.
“My earpiece is a mess.” Woosung shared. “I cannot hear the drums well. I think it stopped working for a few seconds during Blue Skies.”
“Okay, we have extra of those. You can test your new one in your next rehearsals.” Tara, their manager, responded.
The others shared their thoughts for tonight. Jungkook just listened for the sake of his throat. When he felt it getting strained, he cleared his throat and reached for a bottle of water.
“How are you feeling now?” Mingyu tapped his shoulder.
“The same,” he answered shortly. “It didn’t feel better or worse than earlier.”
“Well, let’s go back to the hotel to let our Jungkook rest,” Carter replied.
The others agreed before standing up from the soft couch. Jungkook is already heading straight to their dressing room when Tara spoke.
“By the way, you had very special guests tonight. It made tonight’s tag trend worldwide on Twitter.”
Being trending is not new with the group. Ever since they started the tour a month ago, they have been on various social media trend lists every other day. They also had bid celebrities and personalities as part of the audience before.
“Who? The king?” Mingyu joked, making the others chuckle.
Tara clicked her tongue, “Eh, close. It’s his daughters, the royal princesses.”
The boys stopped in their tracks. Even Jungkook froze. He did not even notice his members simultaneously turning their heads in his direction. As if they were waiting for him to say something. Instead, it was Tara who spoke again.
“Maybe we can meet them.”
All while the concert was happening, a fan who was also present in the event posted a stolen picture of you and Astrid. It led to your name and Astrid’s trending. Fans were excited to see royalties in such an event.
@/rockjeykey: no one told me princess astrid is a fan
@/denimparty: SOMEONE TELL JUNGKOOK ABOUT THIS
@/CRAYONNO7: YOOOOO i was just a few seats next to them! THEY ARE SO NICE AND FUN I HAD SMALL TALKS WITH THEM PRINCESS YN SAID SHE LIKES MY BAND SHIRT
Replying to @/CRAYONNO7
- @/eunwoobass: ur so lucky!!!
@/ASTRIDLOML: i’d like to think yn is astrid’s forever chaperone in events 🤣
Replying to @/ASTRIDLOML
- @/crownprincessyn: haha going to a rock concert is not so yn 😆😆
@/multifandommyg: imagine having zafiro’s princesses as your fans
@/sweetmonthof9th: i want to see the boys' reactions 💀
@/cartermatters: lolololol mingyu would be teasing the hell out of jk
@/ZafiroRoyaltyNews: Princesses YN and Astrid attended Sweet September’s concert after today’s royal events! 💜✨ #DenimJungleInZF [insert photos]
@/SweetSeptember_twt: Hey! Hey! Hey! Rubies are red. Sapphires are blue. You guys are a gem that is hard to find! A big 💜 to Zafiro. Thank you all for coming tonight! #DenimJungleInZF
“Thank you so much!”
Your mouth felt dry. You lost track of how many times you gulped throughout the whole performance as your eyes focused on someone. You felt like in a haze– a very hot one.
Jungkook.
That’s his name, right? Whoever he is, he has the prettiest voice. You rarely listen to their genre of music but you managed to be entertained the whole time. But you don’t know why. When you saw him in that white shirt after he removed his leather jacket on stage, your brain stopped working for seconds. It’s probably because you didn’t expect him to have that arm sleeve tattoo.
It’s so pretty.
He’s so pretty.
“Oh! That was so much fun! Thank you so much for going here with me.” Astrid cut off your thoughts. “I know this isn’t your type of music. So, I really appreciate you here with me.”
She jumped to hug you and you hugged her back, trying to cleanse off the thoughts in your mind. You just excuse your reaction now as a shock since this is your first rock concert. After saying goodbye to her friends, Astrid pulled you with her out of your seats. She continued talking to you about her excitement. You tried to listen but failed. You just remembered that lead singer playing with that guitar like his life depended on it. His fingers were smooth on playing that thing like he’s used to–
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Princess YN! Princess Astrid!”
Again, you snapped out of your thoughts. Both you and Astrid turned your head back when you heard your names. The lady who was next to you during the concert is now wearing her security earpiece. She was probably following you two since you walked out but you didn’t notice for obvious reason. She also looked at that someone who called for you.
That someone was also a concert staff. You read that card that she wears in her lanyard that says, MANAGER. She was almost out of breath when you stopped.
“Oh, I apologize for the informalities, Your Royal Highnesses.” she tried to speak with her hands on her knees, to catch her breath. After some seconds, she continued, “I am Tara Montez, Sweet September’s manager.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Montez.” you smiled, offering your hand for a shake, which she accepted. Astrid also did the same thing.
“Nice to meet you too, Princess YN and Princess Astrid. Thank you so much for being here!” You see Tara paused. “It was totally unexpected and rare to see princesses at the band’s concerts. Uhm… We were hoping the band could meet you. They are big fans of your country. It would be an honor for them to meet you two even just for a short time.”
Astrid audibly gasped. You looked at her and her eyes say it all. You can even see the sparkles in her eyes. You can also hear your bodyguard communicating through her wireless device. You’re sure Eddie would definitely want you to walk out of the venue now but you know your sister would love the offer. It’s a one-time thing.
So before your bodyguard can interfere, you answered.
“Of course.”
Back in the green room, Jungkook and the other members now showered and changed into their casual clothes. Carter and Woosung munched on the chips they saw on the table. Mingyu was giggling as he secretly takes a clip of Jungkook walking back and forth.
“What should we do?” he asked them, trying to keep his cool. But everyone can tell, he’s failing. He just never thought he would meet any royalty– you.
Out of distraction from the chips, Carter replied, “Curtsy?”
Before the others can laugh with that, the door opened and they immediately stood up straight. Carter and Woosung wiped their hands and even sanitized them. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows at Jungkook. The latter gave him an annoyed look.
“And this is Sweet September.” Tara, who got in first, introduced them.
Jungkook’s heart almost stopped when he sees you entering with your small smile. Every photograph posted in the news and articles didn’t give your beauty any justice as he found you more attractive now you’re in the same room as him. When you locked eyes with him, he swore his heart fluttered.
Following what Carter said, Jungkook was ready to curtsy when you spoke.
“Oh… Uhm, we don’t really do that here, Mister. That’s more of like the UK’s thing. A bow would be fine.”
Everyone in the room laughed except you, who tried to be professional. But you found it cute. Especially when you saw that tint of red forming across his cheeks.
“Oh— uhm— My apologies, my quee– princess.”
“It’s your royal highness, dumbass.” his bandmate whisper-shouted at the back.
Your sister scoffed, finding the lead vocalist’s mistake as funny. You looked at her sternly. She acted appropriately again. You looked back at the boys again, trying to break your sight away from Jungkook.
“Thank you so much for coming to our country. I’ve never seen a crowd as energetic as that.” you began the conversation to break the ice. “It’s a surprise for me to hear our people here singing almost every song in your set. I just learned they are a big fan of your group.”
“How about you, Your Royal Highness,” Jungkook asked. He doesn’t know where he’s getting all this strength to talk to you. But he just knows that this might be his first and last.
You replied with the truth, “Oh– I– this is actually my first time listening to your music. Princess Astrid right here just invited me to go here with her.”
“She’s more of a jazz fan.” Astrid shared and they nodded.
Before the conversation continues, your bodyguard spoke, “Excuse me. Madams. The Royal Staff is asking us to go out now.“
Woosung was quick to request when they heard that, “Can we take a picture with you, Royal Highnesses?”
“Of course!”
This time, Astrid replied with uncontained excitement. You stood in between the four members. Mingyu was supposed to be next to you but he pulled Jungkook to exchange places with him. Jungkook instantly smelled the sweet and flowery scent just by being next to you while you ignored that strange feeling in your stomach when you felt your arms touched.
“Okay, one… two… three!”
The band stood in line once again after that. You and Astrid shook hands with them in turns. You introduced yourselves and so they did too. Ever since you were a kid, when you began attending public royal events, you always followed the royal protocol. In every person you met, you would shake their hand while having good eye contact. Another part of the protocol is the public cannot physically touch you unless you initiated it first. So, you did.
The boys seemed surprised but showed their respect by bowing their heads while you shook hands with each of them. You just hoped your hand was not stone cold since you felt like it was since you stood in front of their lead vocalist. But when it comes to the last person in the line, Jungkook smoothly managed to kiss the back of your hand when you offer it for a handshake.
You were taken aback by the action. Not because he did it. But because it felt something else. The kiss was feather-like. It was light and brief. But you felt something electric run through your veins the moment his lips touched your skin. Your heart shivered. Then, it suddenly beat fast and you’re scared that everyone around you can hear it. You gulped as you made eye contact with him again.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” his deep and slightly hoarse voice said. It made you feel things you don’t know and you hate and like it at the same time. “I’ve read a lot about you.”
You pursed your lips, “You did?”
“Yeah.”
You wanted to ask and know more about what he reads about you. But before you can say anything again,
“The Royal Courtier is waiting, ma’am.” the guard interrupted.
You tried not to show annoyance. But sighed.
“Well, we shall go. Our staff is waiting outside.” you smiled. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in our country. Congratulations on your concert.”
They bowed and you turned around with Astrid, ready to leave the room.
“Wait!” Mingyu stopped you one more time. “Is there any way we can reach out to you and invite you girls again to our future events? E-mail? Phone number? Telephone number?”
Your sister was over the moon hearing that while you tried to hide the smirk forming on your lips. Jungkook knows what his friend is doing and he is somewhat thankful for Mingyu.
“The only way to contact us is through Zafiro’s Royal Communication Office. I believe their e-mail and telephone numbers are on their websites.” you sounded like you were teasing. But you just honestly found their attempt funny. “Other than that, feel free to send us a letter through the mail.”
Of course, you would not give your personal number. Jungkook thought. Do you even have that? You probably have your own assistant who answered calls for you. It is known to almost everyone that even though every royalty in Zafiro has their own social media accounts, you just use them to share your duties and advocacies.
“Again, it was nice meeting your band. We hope you come back to our country soon.”
You left the room, sharing knowing glances with your sister.
While on their way back to their hotel, Jungkook scrolls on his Instagram account. His notifications were on blast as usual. But something caught his attention when he almost exit the app.
97.sapphire is now following you!
His eyes squinted. He clicked on the account. It only has twelve followers and two posts. It follows nothing. The account’s two posts are photos of artworks. One is a watercolor painting of a flower field during sunset. While the other is a detailed pencil drawing of what seemed like a coffee shop. Then, another notification popped out.
97.sapphire sent you a message.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow before he clicked on it. Without really expecting anything, he reads the message. As he go through the words, his eyebrow lowered while his lips formed into a smile.
let me know what do u want to read more about this pair! :) thank you so much for reading.
taglist rules
THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST
@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @0rubyrose0
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1
#bts humor#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts series#bts established relationship au#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook drabble#jungkook x reader#jungkook series#rockstar jungkook#the princess and the rockstar jjk#bts meet cute au
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𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙙
featuring ⨳ nikolai gogol, gn!reader + oc!daughter
contents ⨳ fluff, slight slight angst, reader isn't mentioned a lot, established relationship, the daughter is oc
notes ⨳ this is from the conversations in discord with friends who have collective baby fever and thirst for dad!nikolai in one random day
Nikolai is more than happy to pick up his daughter from kindergarten. Usually, you would pick her up since you have a small break just enough time for you to grab your daughter, buy her food and send her home. Nikolai's not home usually at four, busy with his shady business. So when you call him to go and pick up his daughter, he is over the moon.
He is already waiting by the car, eyes looking for his adorable daughter walking out from the gate. He is just casual, with a white button-up, rolled-up sleeves and a pair of black pants. But that's still enough for some people to take several glances at him.
Nikolai ignores their attention — he's only thirsty for the only person he loves the most, his beloved — you.
After about five minutes of waiting, he finally sees his daughter walks out of the gate. She is looking at the ground. Her white braid is hanging low and her green eyes are dull. She is clutching her red schoolbag, a bit tense.
Nikolai is a sensitive person — especially when it comes to emotions. So he certainly notices his daughter is acting weirdly. Yes, she's visibly distraught with her thoughts when she accidentally walks past Nikolai's car.
“Mari,” he calls.
His daughter, Mari, flinches out of her thoughts and turns around. Nikolai smiles and before he could crouch and opens his arms for her, she already runs straight into him, bumping into his legs.
“Papa!”
Nikolai chuckles, smiling affectionately. He pats her head — she is short, obviously, just reaching his knees. Nikolai crouches and hugs her, giving a smooch on her cheek.
“Papa pick me up?” Mari asks as her tiny hands hold his face. Nikolai coos, overwhelmed with the adoration in his heart. He nods.
“Yes, malyshka,” he replies as he pinches her cheek, making her whine in annoyance. Nikolai only laughs before he stands up again and opens the car door. He bends to help Mari to take off her school bag. There's a charm of red pompom hanging on her bag, similar to Nikolai's hair tie.
He puts the bag under the seat and then he picks her up, getting her onto the seat. He reaches for the seatbelt, putting it on her. “Comfy?” he asks and when she nods, Nikolai smiles proudly to himself. Before he closes the door, he kisses her forehead once.
He gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. He drives out from the kindergarten area, sometimes taking a glance at his still disturbed daughter.
“Rough day at school, malyshka?” he asks.
“Hm...” she nods a bit, stroking her braid sadly —that trait is very similar to what Nikolai would do when he's sulking towards you.
“Wanna tell me?”
“Papa... am I... am I ugly?” she asks, lips quivering and Nikolai almost brakes abruptly at the question. He frowns and immediately parks his car on the side of the street, looking at his daughter.
“No. No, you aren't ugly. What nonsense! Mari, you are the cutest girl in the world! The most adorable, the prettiest, the most glamorous!” Nikolai says. “Who said that?”
She's smiling at her dad's words but she's starting to sob. “T-These boys in my class... called me ugly and weird... They say meanie things! And... and then they touched my cheeks and...”
“They what?” Nikolai grips the steering wheel and has to internally exhale a deep breath without sighing out loud to his daughter.
“They say bad words to me... And they touched my cheeks...”
“.... Did they hurt you?”
“O-One of them... like... pinch it...”
“Does the teacher says anything?”
She shakes her head.
“Do you know their names? The boys?”
She says three names.
“Alright.”
Nikolai takes out his phone and types something in it. But not long before she tugs his sleeve. He turns to her and she looks scared.
“Papa... are you angry...? Y-You're scary now...”
Nikolai purses his lips — bad habits come up again. He suddenly remembers the frustrated words from his colleague — “Gogol, can you behave well? Your whole presence is scaring my customers. My God, why are you here in this casino anyway?”
Nikolai swallows hard. Of course... He was a very dangerous person several years ago. He made horrendous, gruesome and grotesque crimes. He killed people left and right. All to just reach his extreme ideals.
And now he's here, almost ten years later, having a family. Does he deserve this? After murdering a lot of people, taking them away from their families — and now he is having one, himself. Does he even deserve to have a family? Is he deserving of this future he's trying to live in when his past is constantly trailing in his shadow? Will this guilt follow him to hell and eat him slowly from inside? Will he find himself caged again? Will the freedom be out of his reach?
“Papa!”
Nikolai jumps at Mari's high-pitched scream. He looks at her and she's crying — she looks worried and she is panicked when she sees her dad being silent. She doesn't know why but she cannot help but feel a very scary feeling from his silence.
“Papa, a-are you sick? P-Please, I'm scared..!” she cries and Nikolai's heart breaks at her tears. He realizes he just daydreams about his inner chaos while his daughter needs him. This feels just as hurt when his beloved spouse is crying to him. Nikolai unbuckles her seatbelt and carefully picks her up to sit on his lap.
He hugs her, kissing her head.
“I'm okay... I'm okay, shh... Don't cry, okay? I'm not sick, alright? I'm just distraught.” his voice is soft and soothing as he strokes her hair — just the same as his. Her eyes are also just like his, except her face resembles her mother more.
“I just don't like what the boys did to you. I promise, I promise they won't hurt you or touch you or call you names anymore.” Nikolai looks at her and she stares before slowly nodding back. He smiles at her again.
“If they touch you anymore, you say what?”
“I say 'No'.”
“Good. Then, what else? What did papa teach you?”
“Then... you say.. uh.. I have to... kick their balls!”
Nikolai laughs and his laugh is contagious enough for the spirited girl to giggle. “Yes, you got it right! And then, if they touch your cheek, you will do this...” Nikolai forms a loose fist and slowly gestures it to her cheek, poking her skin with his knuckles. “Pow.” he says, playfully.
She grins, looking at him contently and follows his step. She clenches her tiny fist and pushes it to Nikolai's cheek. Though Nikolai does not even feel a thing, he purposely turns his head sideways, according to the direction, just to show Mari that she 'punches' him.
“Good girl! Yes, like that. And do it harder to them! Like really hard! That's called, a punch.”
"A... pun. Pun!”
Nikolai cackles, eyes almost close at how hard he smiles at his daughter's cuteness. “Okay, malyshka. That's close enough. Now, do we wanna get desserts? To cheer you up? Ice-cream or waffle?”
“Both!” she claps her hands excited. She's already imagining a thick waffle with drizzles of chocolate sauce, and two scoops of vanilla ice-cream topping the delicacy.
“Okay, let's go! I know bestest place for a waffle and ice-cream! Anything for you, okay?” Nikolai says before he puts her back to the seat and buckles her seatbelt.
BEEP!
“Goddamn!” Nikolai looks in the mirror, seeing a car honking at him before passing him. He clicks his tongue. “What the hell is his problem, dude?”
Mari gasps and slaps his hand. He looks at her, pouting, already he can listen your voice scolding him for saying bad words in front of the kids. “Bad words! Baddie words! Papa cannot say that!”
“I did not say anything.”
She gasps. “Gaslighting!”
“Where the hell did you learn that?”
©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya
if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!
#道化師-jest❃ུ۪#bsd x reader#nikolai x reader#nikolai gogol x reader#bsd imagines#bsd fluff#nikolai imagines#nikolai fluff#nikolai headcanons#bsd headcanons#bsd nikolai gogol
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Lucifer/Alastor Oneshot - A Tale of Two Dads
Requested?: No
Prompt: None
Type of oneshot: Fluff/Angst
Reader's Relations: Alastor’s ex-girlfriend
Warnings: Spoilers for eps 7-8 of season 1! This was written the say those two came out
Other notes: Don’t ask how I thought of this…Somehow, my brain fixated on these two, and well oneshots is what happens when my brain gets fixated on characters.
-------------------------------
“You absolute bastard, Alastor!” I shouted once he’d shown up at Charlie’s hotel, seven years after leaving, “You leave for seven years and all you have to say is ‘hi’?! Someone hold me back before I fuck his face up!”
“Hello, My Dear, it’s good to see you too.”
“Fuck you,” I retorted, making eye contact with him, in an easy feat due to the fact I was the same height as him. He just smirked at me, using his microphone to lift my chin, an unnecessary thing due to the fact I was already looking at him, “Now now, that’s not the right way to talk to me, is it, My Dear?” I didn’t respond, instead I just growled and tried to punch him continuously, him dodging every blow I attempted to make.
“You should know that’s not going to work, (Y/n).”
“Fuck. Off. Before. I. Kill. You. Myself. Bastard. I’ve had to deal with a child that you-”
“Mama? What’s going on?”
My head immediately shot around to see Alianna standing at the bottom of the stairs, the seven-year-old rubbing her eyes as if she’d just been woken up. I gave Alastor another glare before rushing over, “It’s okay, Sweetie. Nothing you need to worry about,” I spoke, ruffling her red hair.
“You always say that!”
“I say that because most of the time, you don’t need to worry ab-”
Alianna cut me off, asking the question I had wished she would never have to ask, “Is he my Papa?”
If I’d been drinking something, I would definitely have spat it out in shock, “Now now, Ali, that’s something you don’t need to worry about you. You can learn more about your father when you are older.”
She pouted for a few seconds before, “Okay, I’m older!”
I chuckled, “I meant in a few years, now back to bed with you.”
Alianna sighed and nodded, running off back upstairs towards our room in the hotel. I let out a sigh of relief and stood up, turning around, only to have Alastor directly in my face, “For fuck sake, stop doing that, you bastard,” I shouted, punching him in the arm.
“Why should I stop when I get-”
“Were you listening to our conversation?”
“It was kind of hard not to, (Y/n)... I think you owe some people an explanation, and I’d be happy to loosen up your strings a bit if you know what I mean,” I heard Angel’s voice saying before I saw one of his arms dangling in front of my face and, what I guessed was another, on my head.
I rolled my eyes, “How many times, Angel? I’m not interested in you. Stop trying,” I growled, shoving him off me, “But, I guess you’re right about the explanation. This Radio Demon Bastard here,” I paused and pointed over in Alastor’s direction, “Is Alianna’s father. She doesn’t know, so please keep it quiet. I’m begging you.”
“You can always beg more, (Y/n). If you catch me drift…”
“Angel, shut up for once. Not the time for your sexual fantasies.”
------------------------------
“Alianna. No. Get back here right now!” I shouted, running up and pulling her off Lucifer gently, “I am so sorry, Sir. She got out of my sight. I apologise again.”
“It’s alright. She’s cute anyway. Much like her mother.”
I felt my face turn red as I looked away, but before I could say anything, Alastor was in front of me, glaring down at the Short King of Hell, “She’s mine. Get away.”
“Oh really?” Lucifer questioned, before walking around the Radio Demon and up to me, taking my hand in his, “Because there’s nothing on her hand to show she belongs to anyone,” he finished, bringing my hand up with his and kissing it, “But if she really is ‘yours’, she has had ample opportunity to stop my advances, and isn’t so…”
“I do not belong to anyone. You,” I turned and glared at Alastor, “May be Alianna’s father, but it doesn’t mean that I am ‘yours’. As a matter of fact, you lost all rights to even seeing her when you left, so you can just go away and leave me alone!” I shouted.
------------------------
A few days later, I found a(n) (F/c) rubber duck sitting on my bed, along with a note. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were cute, I meant it. Call me? L.” there was a phone number at the bottom and I giggled. I knew it was probably wrong as he was Charlie’s dad, who was my best friend… But he’d made an impression on me. So I added the number to my phone under the nickname ‘Short King’, and sent a message, “I got your note. Thanks for the duck. How’d you know (F/c) is my favourite colour?”
--------------------------
I groaned in pain as I lay on the ruins of the hotel, after having come face to face with one of the angels, blood seeping from my side. It was just as I was losing consciousness, that I saw a flash of white in front of me, fighting off the angel.
LUCIFER’S POV
Once the angels had retreated, I turned back to (Y/n) to see her unconscious, with blood surrounding her. Immediately, I retracted my wings and knelt beside her, realising she’s been severely wounded, “(Y/n)? Please wake up. You have to. (Y/n), please. I- love you.”
“Dad?”
I looked up to see Charlie standing there, a saddened smile on her face, “You can’t bring her back.”
“Is there nothing?! No one can bring her back?” I asked, despair wreaking through my voice, as I felt tears cascading down my cheeks.
“I’ve got one idea… but it’s a long shot, so don’t get your hopes up,” Charlie replied, running off. She came back a few minutes later, dragging a girl behind her, who seemed to be complaining, “Charlie! I told you, I can heal, but I can’t combat the second death!”
“Just try. For me? Please?”
“I’m telling you, this isn’t going to work if she’s dead, Charlie!”
“Try though? Please, Brianna?”
“Fine, I’ll try, but no one get their hopes up,” the brunette replied as Charlie pulled her over. I noticed Brianna take a deep breath before kneeling on (Y/n)’s other side, cracking her knuckles, “I’ll say it again if she’s truly dead, then this isn’t going to work, but I’m going to need help,” she paused and turned her attention towards me, “May I ask for your help, Sir? This will only work if I have the help of someone she loves.”
“M-me? I-Isn’t there someone else that she loves? Like her daughter?”
The brown-haired demon just chuckled in response, “I mean it’s got to be romantic love, not platonic love.”
“Oh... Wait a minute, do you still want me to help? As much as I hate to say this, shouldn’t you be getting that Radio Demon to help? In the sense that he’s the father of her daughter, therefore she must love him.”
“As a matter of fact. I know she hates me. She lit-”
“Alastor’s right, Dad. You may not have realised, but that duck you gave her has pride of place in her room. Every day she makes a point of dusting it, and no one’s allowed near it. I’m surprised it’s not in a locked box that only she has access to. She wouldn’t have kept it if you didn’t mean anything to her. Plus you deserve to be happy as well,” Charlie spoke, placing a hand on my shoulder and kneeling beside me, “Trust me. You’re the one we need to bring (Y/n) back.”
“Well? Are you going to do this or not? We don’t have much time left.”
With a final boost of confidence from Charlie, I nodded, turning to Brianna, “Okay.”
She smiled, “Okay. In that case, I need you to place both your hands above where her heart is and keep your eyes closed. Can you do that?” I nodded, doing as she asked me, remembering to close my eyes.
YOUR POV
I woke up with a start, and I lifted my head in shock, but before I could say anything, I’d been wrapped in a hug, “(Y/n)!”
“O-oh.. hello, Mr Lucifer. I-It’s good to see you too,” I replied as he continued to squeeze the living Hell out of me, “C-can you let me go though? Personal space.”
“Sorry! I’m just glad you’re okay,” he started, letting me go as his face turned the same colour as his waistcoat, but before I could mention it, Charlie had spoken up, “See, Dad? Told you it was you that she loved.”
“CHARLIE!” I all but screamed, “HOW IN THE ACTUAL HELL DID YOU KNOW THAT?! You better start running. I don’t care if you’re the Princess of Hell, telling someone that your friend has a crush on them is not funny!” I continued, standing up and starting to chase after her, but before I could get too far I felt a gloved hand wrap around my wrist and pull me backwards, spinning me around, before I felt pressure on my lips. It took me a second to process, but once I did I wrapped my arms around the King of Hell’s neck and kissed him back.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/n).”
I grinned widely, “Still embarrassing that it took your daughter to get us together though.”
“I have something for you, (Y/n)...”
“Let me guess… is it another rubber duck?” I asked, my voice laden with sarcasm. Lucifer’s face turned red as he looked at me a shocked expression on his face before out of thin air, a small box appeared. Lucifer took it in his hands before handing it to me, “I-I’ve been working on them since I left you the first one… I hope you like them.” I smiled and took the lid off, my eyes widening with glee at the sight of the small family of ducks. Two adults, one a light yellow, the other a (H/c) colour with lashes painted around the eyes, with two baby ducks, one the same colour yellow as the adult, also with eyelashes, and the other a red colour. I giggled at the meaning behind the colours, the adult ducks supposed to represent me and Lucifer, and the two baby ones representing Charlie and Alianna, and hugged the blonde male in front of me, “I love them, thank you. I know exactly where these are going,” I spoke, pecking Lucifer on the cheek after leaning down to do so, whispering in his ear, “Short King.”
“I am not that short!”
“Hmmm. Compared to me, you are,” I smirked, “Now, who wants to rebuild this hotel?”
—------------------------------END OF ONESHOT
The ending was not how I imagined it, but at least it didn’t go over 2000 words… This was originally supposed to have more Alastor x Reader in too, but it didn’t fit with the plot I was going with.
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Miguel's Pick up Lines
Just fluff and nerd talk✨
Flirting wasn't something he was good for, it wasn't etched in his dna. His pasts attempts in your early stage of relationship always ended up as awkward or in a laughing fit your way.
But far from making you uncomfortable, it always ended up in you kissing the daylights our of him, appreciating his effort to keep the spark alive.
Miguel wouldn't admit it, but he was practicing his own rizz. A term he internally chuckled every time Gabriella mentioned it.
He wanted to surprise you with his art de la séduction, cause in truth he missed your flustered expression. He needed to see that sweet and lovely face of yours going through so many emotions again.
It was one of those days he'd be stuck in the lab, mentoring the new employees in their induction to Alchemax's Research Department.
In his break, he took his phone and walked to a more private area to then video calling you.
It took the connection to stablish after a couple of rings, your face appearing in the lower corner of the screen with sweet smile and a couple of flour blotches on your face. Rosie on your hip.
"Say hi to Papa, Rosie."
Rosie blabbed while agitating the spoon
"She's gonna be a good chef." you smiled ad you wiped the flour off, "Everything alright, mi amor?"
"Yeah. I'm nearly done with the induction. Can't wait to go home."
He could hear Benjamin's excited squeals as he watched the TV and Gabriella helped with food in the opposite shelf.
"I made some horchata, Gabibi's helping me here."
"I learned how to make tortillas, Papa!"
Gabi's enthusiasm brought a smile on his face
"Save me some, Solecito."
You then moved to place Rosie on her floor playground. Then went to the bathroom and closed the door.
"What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed as you smirked and pulled out the silky elastic band of your bra. Eyes widened while his tongue swept over his plump lips
"Got a surprise for you, Papa. Can't wait for you to come home."
"Too bad you're not in my lab."
"Why? Wanna show me a theory, Dr. O'Hara?" you smirked and he followed
"Would prove my Big Bang into you."
A flush crept your cheeks as your eyes widened softly at the sudden comeback, not really expecting such comment.
His chest constricted with pride on your current state.
"I think I often forget I married a hot nerd."
"I'll remind you when I get home." He chuckled when you squealed internally.
"Can't wait. See you later, Dr. O'Hara." You blew him a kiss and returned to finishing meal prepping.
You had finished your indoor workout, sweat etched to your flushed skin. Miguel leaned against the door frame, an arm raised above him.
"Did you know that high intensity workouts increases your endorphin release but it's actually the cardiovascular exercises that gives you the major boost?"
"Oh really?"
He nodded while approaching and taking a hold of your waist. Gaze raking over your sweaty look. Your pheromones tickling his nose and brain.
"Yeah" He nuzzled your neck and you squealed in between giggles while he kissed your jaw
"Don't! Let me go shower first!."
He shook his head.
"We gotta do some cardio first, mi reina. Wanna have you extra happy today"
He threw you over his shoulder and walked back to the master bedroom.
And as good as some days passed, the bad ones were always in the lurk, waiting for you to fall into their claws to not let you go until tears rolled down your cheeks.
And after thirteen years of marriage it was impossible for Miguel to not know and recognize the signs of a bad day.
You'd barely talk, and if you did, it was usually short and monosyllabic replies. You'd go into a cleaning spree, walk around the neighborhood to try and ease your mind.
He stepped in when he saw the inner corner of your lids turn red, eyes bloodshot and a quivering lip as you tried to ease a fussy and wailing Rosie. Miguel pried Rosie from your hands carefully and rubbed her back in soothing circles, to then kiss the top of your forehead.
"I'll take it from here, mi reina. Go rest up."
His heart wrenched upon seeing you sniffing and rubbing your eyes while you went up the stairs.
Miguel arrived an hour later with a tray of freshly made food, a steaming cup of hot cocoa and some tissues.
"Do you want me to keep you company?"
You nodded, teary eyed. He sat next to you and put the tray on your thighs.
"Wanna share what's up there?"
He kissed the side of your head again and begun feeding you.
"I don't know how to explain it. It's weird. All I know is that I feel exhausted and sad. I feel so useless."
"Useless?" he frowned as he fed you another spoonful to then wipe your mouth, "Decaffeinated coffee is useless. A cordless jump rope is useless."
That made you chuckle and he smiled to give you another bite of food.
"I could list a shit ton of things that are useless, but you? No, mi amor. You're the main pillar of this family. Without you everything collapses within. Like a black hole."
His arm went around your shoulders and kissed your head softly.
"But you ain't a black hole, preciosa. Like... You're so complex, beautiful and amazing. No wonder why the universe copies you and tries to demand our attention with stars and stuff."
He smiled upon your reaction.
"I love you, okay?" He finished feeding you to then massage your feet and shoulders.
Miguel walked into your room after you were done feeding Rosie and putting her into her crib.
He removed the bedsheets out of you to replace them with his frame, sprawled ontop of you. His head resting ontop of your chest.
Your hands immediately caressed his hair, earning a lovely purr from him, melting under your touch
"You know? Your digits got me feeling a strong exponential attraction. Wanna multiply?"
Your brow quirked with a goof smile on his words as he tittered silently.
"Forget I said that."
His airy laugh got your shoulders shaking with the same amount of fun.
"I didn't understand a peep. I sucked at math, mi amor."
He took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.
"But... I understood the last part though."
His head snapped immediately to you and smirked.
"Rosie is asleep" you scolded between hushed laughs as he swallowed you in his arms and pecked your lips repeatedly as you giggled and squealed softly
"Let's decrease the space between our organelles, shall we?"
#t writes✨#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#mama o'hara#miguel ohara fluff#miguel ohara fanfiction
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[ picking up the kids ] okkotsu yuuta ft. okkotsu twins
contains: 500 words. fluff, reader and yuuta are married, unedited (I'll edit it in the morning hopefully)
end note: i just love bullying twindad! yuuta sm <3 i got this idea from a reel i found and i just thought it's twindad yuuta coded hehe
jjk masterlist
It was your idea he'd like to emphasize on that.
This whole thing and the scenario unfolding now was solely your idea of a prank that had gotten way out of hand. A test of some sort that reveals the duality of the twins whenever they're with you and when they're with him.
But because of this prank or this failed test of some sort, he has been labeled as the worst father ever because he's been trying for minutes to calm down your twins who're throwing a tantrum in the school's parking lot.
It all started as nothing more than a suggestion, you pointing out that yuuta has never picked up the twins ever since they started preschool. He reasoned it was because he was busy with his job that's why he never has time to do it. And for that, you told him that this time, since it's his free day, he should be the one to take the kids home.
Yuuta was reluctant at first, because knowing the relationship he has with the twins, he thinks that this would end badly but you brushed it off and told him that he's overthinking it, and you would just be hidden at the farthest side of the car so the twins wouldn't see.
So that's the reason why he's here now, troubled, wanting to cry as well and so close to having a meltdown.
The older twin is stomping his feet while calling out your name, followed by a loud wail of ‘I don't want papa, I want mama’ that earned him a side eye from a lot of strangers. Really, if he were one of them he would do that too.
The youngest, who's not faring well, has been crying non stop ever since and has been clinging onto the front door of the car, trying to find if his mother is hiding inside. What's even worse is that he's literally red from crying so much, Yuuta's afraid that if he keeps on any longer he'd faint.
“B-baby please stop crying” he tries to plead with his son, patting his shoulders so he would stop but, as if the universe had already planned on making him miserable, his youngest just had to cry so loudly.
Yuuta's just about to reach his limit when you finally end this prank or test or whatever plan this is. Stepping out of the car you called out to the twins and they rushed into your arms.
“I’m sorry, mama’s here stop crying okay?” you patted their backs and watched as they hiccup to give you an answer. Really, they're too much of a mama's boy, it reminds you of a certain someone.
Speaking of, your husband, who had discreetly found his way into hugging you from the back, whispered: “Let’s never do this again, I feel like I lost 10 years of my life from that.”
Certainly, but if this is the reaction you'd get every time, then you can't promise anything.
#twindad! yuuta#okkotsu x reader#yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#okkotsu fluff#okkotsu yuuta fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Unmasked
Copia x Reader Drabble. GN!Reader, fluff, make up removal, going to bed (to sleep), an autism metaphor if you squint. 666 words
-
When he enters your bedroom, you watch him transform. It starts slowly, with his shoulders falling and one gloved hand coming up to rub over the back of his neck. His eyes close, a deep breath coming out through his nostrils. Copia slides his shoes off next, toeing them off before he shrugs out of his jacket and makes a beeline towards you.
You don’t need to ask how his day was - you can tell immediately that it was a long day as he silently pulls a chair close to your vanity. Your eyes meet and he brightens at the sight of you, but the exhaustion is still palpable behind that.
Taking his jaw in your hold, you can feel him sink his chin into your palm, his eyes falling closed once more. With your other hand, you pump the cleanser you had just applied to your own face into your palm. Gently, you brush your hand over his face, slowly rubbing the cleanser in until it foams and you can see the amount of paint he had put on. The gentle touch of your hands has him hum, leaning his head further into your hold.
His eyelids flutter as you massage his temples, and his body slowly goes more slack. As you remove the makeup away, revealing the face of your husband, you almost consider that he had fallen asleep. But he lifts his gaze, gazing at you just through his eyelashes when you pause for a makeup wipe.
Copia’s eyes are always windows to his soul. Usually he hides them away, and eye contact can be harder for him. But now he gazes at you, his eyes warm but tired and they crinkle a little at the bottom as he smiles up at you.
It has your lips stretching out, trying to suppress a giggle. It wasn’t fair that he could smile at you and it felt like no time had ever passed since you had both fallen in love so many years ago. It made you feel like a sap, but perhaps there was nothing wrong with that. Considering he had become such a sap for you.
He let his mask drop for you. It had happened when he was a Cardinal and he still did it as Papa. Letting all of his facets show, both good and bad. He had nothing to hide when you were around. It makes your throat tighten, thinking of how much trust he gave you everyday. You could’ve held a gun and he’d hand you the ammunition with a smile.
To be fair, you’d never think to point it at him. The thought of him being hurt made your throat tighten in a new way, and willfully doing it made you almost feel nauseous.
Once his face is cleaned, you wipe your hands before moving them gently through his hair. A soft groan then, as your nails scrape against his scalp, and you smile moving to kiss him. A sweet peck that he returns - there was no want for more tonight. Just sweet kisses at the vanity as you embraced each other. Both of you settling against the other until finally you knew you both had to get to bed.
Standing, you help him change into some red sweatpants and carefully put his suit into a laundry hamper. Once in bed, he wraps his arms around you, tucking you in against him. This time, the giggle does escape you, but it makes him giggle in return, pressing soft kisses to your forehead before he tucks your head under his chin.
He didn’t have to say I love you or Goodnight., but the words weren’t needed. You knew he meant both as you laid in his arms, both of you safe and warm in each other's embrace, with the sweet wash of dreams to chase away the day's troubles. Instead of words, you listen to the soft drum of his heart and smile as you fall asleep.
#ghost band#the band ghost#copia x reader#papa iv x reader#copia#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iv x reader#oh to unmask with copia...#copia being a lil non verbal after a long day he just like me fr
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If You Remember This Tomorrow
Phantom Ghoul x GN! Reader - Fluff, Tipsy Kissing, 1700 words
Heard a song, had an idea, wrote some fluff. I don't even know. Thank you to @ramblingoak because you're always so dang supportive. 💜
fic list // ao3 // Little Ghost (pt2) // A Late Night Call (pt3)
The room is loud, almost unbearably so. There are bodies everywhere, some paired off and some not, but all of them are illuminated by lights that flash in a wonderful rainbow of pretty colors. The dancefloor is full, and you feel as though you’re floating after that last drink that tasted more like red than anything else.
A smile spreads over your face as Swiss sways a little too excitedly and stumbles over his dance partner. None of this is new, not even the multi-ghoul falling over his own feet. He barks out a hearty laugh from his new spot on the floor, his whole body shaking. Somehow, he manages to get back to his feet without spilling a drop of his drink. It’s an impressive feat that earns him a kiss on the cheek as a prize before the pair spins off together to get better acquainted.
The success of the Ghost project meant that a good portion of the Ministry was on tour more often than not anymore. While the Ministry parties had always been wild, the more recent homecoming celebrations left most of the congregation with little to no memory of the night before.
A thick fog rolls over the floor, that sickly sweet smell of chemical syrup pumped out from the machines filling the air. Phantom materializes in it, a vapor turned solid shape that now blocks your path. You bounce off him, unsteady and unable to correct your course in your current state. He grabs your elbow, keeping you upright and off the ground with a soft smile. His teeth have a red tint to them, much like your own, but it’s too bright and too loud to make out what he’s saying.
He leans in to repeat himself, his grip a little tighter on your arm. He smells like strawberries and some kind of alcohol. But under the top notes of what you guessed was the last drink he had was the soft smell of a cologne so nice you wanted to bury your face in it.
You hadn’t spent a lot of time with the newly summoned ghoul—time was a luxury neither one of you had. But the pull had been there from the beginning, ever since he clawed his way out of the Pit and locked eyes with you. It’s a dance, one with several complicated steps and neither one of you had felt compelled to lead.
He says something else, words that taste like fruit punch and candy. You grin lazily and pat his shoulder, allowing yourself the first intended contact from you to him. His breath hitches, grip tightening once more. He’s so close now you can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. A uniform you dare to imagine, for a split-second, rumpled in a pile on your floor.
It’s clumsy at first and your teeth clash together more than your lips, but the two of you are in such a stupor that you don’t stop. His hand moves to your back, pressing you close as he adjusts and kisses you properly. Behind you someone whistles—most likely Dew or Cumulus—but it doesn’t distract the ghoul from the task. He brings a hand to the side of your face, fingers splayed over your cheek and neck as he pulls the breath from your lungs.
You grab handfuls of his collar and break away, keeping your forehead pressured to his as you struggle for air. Kissing him is like drowning and you want nothing more than to be underwater again.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbles against your lips. He draws a line over your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb and moves in again.
The next kiss is dizzying, knees buckling under the pressure and the flick of his tongue. He keeps you upright with a firm hand on your back and the one on your face slides into your hair. He tugs lightly, a smile hidden between you as you let out the tiniest moan.
Someone clears their throat nearby and the pair of you split apart like you’ve been caught behind the bleachers at a school dance. Papa offers Phantom an almost fatherly smile and pats him on the shoulder. He suggests the two of you get some air to avoid the cluster of ghouls watching nearby. Phantom is flustered, a pink tinge highlighting his cheeks as he stares back at his captive audience. Mountain and Rain each give him a thumbs up paired with toothy grins.
Your own cheeks heat up as you realize at some point you had been the topic of discussion between the ghouls. Some lonely night had passed between them on the road, maybe on the bus or in some dingy greenroom, and you were the reason he asked for advice from the others. The revelation makes you feel too warm in your clothes, a blush now spreading over your entire body.
You press your face against his shoulder, hiding a shy smile. He slides his hand down your arm, fingers brushing as the lace with yours. He asks if you would like to go with him and yes is the only word you know for a moment.
You don’t miss the smile on his face when the two of you start moving toward the exit, hand in hand.
“Wait!”
Sunshine, ever the perpetual dealer of chaos, approaches carrying two large cups filled with that same red drink that now tastes like Phantom’s kiss. She drops a wink in your direction that is the opposite of subtle and tells you both to have fun before sending you away.
Outside the night is unseasonably cool, a rare break from the heat of summer and the abbey’s sweltering ballroom. You both close your eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze that blows over the grounds. It’s quiet as the wind stills. No one else has made their way out from the party yet. In a few hours the lawn will be filled with your friends and his, but for now it’s just you and Phantom and maybe a curious spirit or two.
You sip carefully from your cups as you walk, the red dye staining your lips and teeth. It doesn’t matter to either of you anymore.
Phantom trips over a gnarled tree root, his drink spilling sticky red liquid over his fingers as he drops to the ground. You can’t help but laugh, the alcohol in your system doing you no favors. He pouts beneath you and wipes his wet hand across your thigh, smearing juice and dirt into your clothes. As you move to help him up, you catch the same root with your own feet and land in the grass next to him in a fit of giggles.
“You ok?” he asks through his own laughter, smiling wide when you nod. He settles on the lawn propped up on an elbow as he watches you.
The minutes pass, the pair of you splitting the remainder of your drink as you sit together in the grass. It’s a clear, beautiful night—a lot like the night he was summoned and pulled from the ground by Papa himself. You smile at the thought, the memory now a tiny movie in your head.
“I think I’m stuck,” he tells you and sinks into the ground a little more.
You shuffle closer, the space between you reduced to maybe half an inch. He drapes an arm over your waist, closing the gap even more with a soft sigh.
“You’re nice to look at,” he admits happily, a small hiccup breaking the sentence.
“Am I?”
“Mmhmm. There’s a word for it up here—I can’t remember it now, but in the Pit we’d say,” he pauses for a moment and brings his mouth to your ear before making a noise that sounds like a dryer full of gravel. “There’s not a word for word translation, but it’s close.”
You do your best to imitate the noise, giggling at his surprised face.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he teases, clutching a hand to his chest in fake shock.
You laugh harder at his stupid joke than you mean to, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“No,” you finally manage as you dare to reach for his waist. “Kissed you with it, though.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says thoughtfully. “We should do that again.”
“We could. Or you can tell me more about how I’m nice to look at.”
He buries his face in the space between your neck and shoulder with a tiny whine. “Words are hard, ok?”
“So you’re not going to kiss—mmph!”
He catches your lips in another slow, passionate kiss that leaves you lightheaded. Your legs tangle as he pins you against the soft ground and you can’t think of anywhere you’d rather be. He tastes like heaven or maybe hell, syrupy sweet from whatever the ghouls had put in those cups.
He sounds smug as he mumbles something about being right to want to kiss you again, not quite pulling away enough to be fully understood. It doesn’t matter because you’re both smiling, completely drunk on fruit punch and each other.
Minutes become hours, but Phantom keeps you warm through the night. You talk about everything as you slowly sober up. He tells you about his time on the road, stories about mischief and misbehaved ghouls and the thousands of happy faces that he’s seen. You explain what he missed while he was away, like the time the hell hound puppies escaped their crates and dug up part of Primo’s garden and the day Cowbell fell into the fountain.
The two of you rest against a tree—the same one with the root that had taken you both down. In the comfortable quiet you fall asleep on his shoulder, his arm draped around you to keep you close. When his eyes begin to feel too heavy, he presses a kiss into your hair and rests his head on yours.
It won’t be long before your friends find you and tease you while you all nurse hangovers and swear never to drink that much again. There will be stories about what you missed and who came searching for you, who fell in the pool and who taught Papa the latest dance. You’ll listen to all of it while Phantom holds your hand and you will know you were right where you were supposed to be.
#my fics#my writing#phantom ghoul x reader#phantom ghoul x gn reader#the band ghost fanfiction#the band ghost fic#ghost band fanfic#nameless ghouls x reader#nameless ghouls fanfic
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𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐
(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️
🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀
Rating: Mature
Category: F/M
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader
Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader; Ciel Phantomhive; Elizabeth Midford
Summary: After spending the day with your cousin and his fiance, the night air makes for pleasant company, as does the butler who reveals a dark secret...
Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian
A/N: not beta read. We die like men. Again.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
The day passed without much incident. A wall seemed to have broken down, between you and the butler after your morning rendezvous. Throughout the day, he looked after both your needs and his young master’s as well. You had spent some time with your cousin today as he hadn’t had too much on his schedule like he usually did. Breakfast, luncheon and supper were all had with the boy who kept your mind occupied with discussions on business and society. And Sebastian served you while also making sure to linger longer than necessary by your side, whether it was him pouring wine into your glass, or brushing against you while bringing you your plate. Surreptitious movements that luckily went unnoticed by your young cousin.
Lady Elizabeth joined the two of you for supper. Though she was from your side of the family you had never met the child personally. The girl had a lot of energy. She loved dressing up as was evident from her clothing. You had heard of her mother being a fearsome lady, one who could fight a tiger barehanded and win, but the daughter carried no such resemblance.
“ –And then, Mother let me make two more dresses to match with the jewellery she bought me!” You had missed the initial conversation but gleaned from the few lines that she had an affinity for fashion and clothing. It was not unlike a lady of her stature.
“Oh when I was your age, I loved getting new dresses made!” You smiled at her. “After I fell sick the first time, however, I started to dislike it a bit.” It was true. You used to have dresses made by the dozen. The seamstress saw your home more than her own shop! But your repeated illnesses have changed this. Every measurement taken anew showed how your body had changed. Warped into the form of the disease. And standing for the tape was exhausting. You found comfort in the clothing you already owned and preferred to have less made.
Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps, Lady Phantomhive, you can come with me and we can have the tailor take your measurements too for a gown. I’m sure your mama and papa wouldn’t mind!” You blushed and shook your head. Perhaps your parents wouldn’t and even if you did have the energy to stand tomorrow, you would have to cover up the innumerable marks Sebastian left on you from your morning's tryst.
You laughed a nervous chuckle and replied, “Perhaps for the next season, I seem to have plenty of splendid dresses in my armada for the moment…”
Ciel retired to bed, soon after Elizabeth left to go back home. You sometimes forgot he was only 12 – his mannerisms far beyond his age. You walked out to the balcony. The garden was painted silver in the moonlight. Despite being quite clumsy, Finnian did a good job of maintaining it you thought to yourself.
“After all I did today to make sure you didn’t catch a cold, my lady, here you are inviting it yourself.” Sebastian’s voice came from behind, startling you. You turned your head to look as he emerged from the shadows draping a warm cloak over your shoulders. “Would you like to go for a walk my lady?” he asked. Once again, you thought you saw a flash of red in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as you took another glance. You nodded at him.
Sebastian took your hand and in one swift cat-like movement you found yourself in his arms flying through the air. You clung to his shoulders the night air whipping through your hair and biting at your cheeks. “Sebastian! Where are we going!” But the whistling of the wind drowned out your words.
When he finally landed, you looked around you, the garden was far, This was a denser shrubbery, almost like the maze Finnian so religiously took care to grow. “Should you be so far from the manor?” You asked him breathless, even though all you had done was be carried from one place to another. “Ciel might call for you or something.”
He shook his head. “You needn’t worry about that, my lady. The young master doesn’t wake till morning – when I wake him and I’m sure the manor will be fine without me for a bit.”
He smiles, reassuring you, and takes your hand, clasping it in his gloved ones. You begin to walk alongside him, his stride is shorter, making sure you can keep up, even in your bedroom slippers. Soon you come across a gazebo. The butler then invites you to sit and takes a seat beside you. “I do hope this isn’t too forward of me, my lady but I wish to continue where we had left off this morning.” You blush and avoid his gaze. You know that society would never approve of the relationship the two of you had. If anyone ever found out, it would bring shame to you and your family. You would be looked down upon for the longest time. “My lady?” Sebastian inquires after not hearing anything from you.
“Sebastian…” you start. But you don’t know how to form what you are feeling. “I- I-” you stutter. Then sigh. He puts his hand on your cheek and makes you look at him.
“My lady, if you want this to stop—” he begins but is cut off when you place your hand over his mouth.
“Believe me that is not what I want.” You say to him. “You are different Sebastian. I don’t get what you want. Your feelings are not of love. They aren’t for my money. And I feel you lust after me but that doesn’t come out too clearly either. I suppose, in a way, I am confused.” You get up, take a few steps forward and turn to look at him. “I have had men who have come to me for all the things I mentioned before. I have had those who might have actually loved me, those who merely wanted me as another trophy to claim, and even those who have come only to try and gain my hand in marriage but in reality who want to marry my father’s wealth. But you Sebastian, something about you is so different. I suppose it may be because you are the first man I have felt attracted to.” Your following chuckle is hesitant. “I am—afraid of you.”
Sebastian smirks. “Your way of seeing things is so intriguing my lady.” He says. “I can assure you my lady that I am not here for your money. I have no need for the material things that humans treasure so much.” He spits. “As for lusting after you; you have deduced almost correctly, but what I feel for you is more...” You don’t know when he got up, but turning to look you find Sebastian flush against your back. His eyes are red, the same red you tried to convince yourself you hadn't seen, but it was unmistakable. Your eyes widen and you try to take a step back, away from his imposing figure, only to find yourself trapped between him and the gazebo.
“You see my lady,” he continues, nose nuzzling against your neck, “Demons and humans have very little in common, but there is one thing we do share; the feeling of lust is very strong in us both. Humans can feel love. All demons can feel though; is lust. But you, you make me feel something different from just lust. Something more—burning. Is it love? I don’t know... I’ve never known that feeling.”
You don’t know what to say anymore. You should be frozen in fear, What did Sebastian mean, saying he was a demon? A murderer? Or a biblical fantasy? His lips were now on your skin, inhaling your scent, and you felt a pool of warmth in your lower belly. “D- demon? What does that even mean?” you falter.
“What I mean, my lady, is that the only reason I am here is because of a contract I have made with your dear young cousin. You should thank him for our very meeting.” He tells you.
“You mean you’re a demon. Like – from legends and stories?”
“I can assure you. I am no story” he says, planting a searing kiss on your neck. That was all it took to set you on fire. It made sense. The inhuman capabilities. The absolute perfection of his being. He was a demon! “You aren’t running from me my lady?” he asked as you melted under his touch.
“Surely, you jest Sebastian!” You say. Your voice quavers but you stand your ground.
“About what my lady?”
“About this demon nonsense!”
“I never lie to my lady.” He says. “You said yourself, there is something you find different about me.” He kisses you. “I am simply a demon, and a butler.”
***
Since you were tired from being out for so long, Sebastian swiftly carried you back to the mansion and took you to your room where there was a cup of hot chamomile tea waiting for you. He really took everything into account. There is no doubt about it in your mind now. Sebastian had to be a demon. His speed is inhuman. His eyes are reptilian, gleaming in the darkness. And then those teeth that scraped against your neck. Whatever he is, he definitely isn’t human.
As he helps you get ready for bed you realised that you didn’t mind. Sebastian may not have been a human, and he may have been a butler, but the way he made you feel surpassed all of that. “Sebastian…” You turn to him as he undresses you. You take off his coat. “I don’t care what you are.” You take off his vest. His eyes widen, and he stares at you. He can smell your arousal. Here you are half naked before him, taking off his clothes. Telling him you don’t care what he is. You want him. You feel things for him. Your scent drives him wild and he doesn’t even register you undoing his necktie and then his shirt buttons. When you try to take his shirt off and he doesn’t move to allow you to slip it off him, you suddenly think that perhaps he doesn’t want this. “I’m so sorry!” You say. “I thought you wanted this.” Sebastian finally wakes from his stupor and looks at you.
“I do want this. I just can’t believe that someone as beautiful and lovely as you truly wants something as vile and cruel as me.” He says and softly kisses your head. Then without warning he pushes you onto the bed and says, “But, my lady, who gave you the permission to take my clothes off?” He growls. The change in demeanour startles you.
“Sebas—” you start, but he does not let you finish. In a moment, his lips are upon yours. He swiftly and rips off your underclothes, while still kissing your mouth. His hands glide along the curves of your body and he holds you closer while plunging his tongue into your mouth.
He has never tasted anything like you before. He cannot fathom how in all the years he has lived he has never tasted anything like you. “I guess it’s something Phantomhives have in common eh? A taste like no other. I could feast on you all day.” He mutters half to himself.
“What–?” you ask breathlessly.
“You taste, sinful.”
He winks at you and pulls his glove off his left hand with his sharp teeth. His nails are black and on the back of his hand is a pentagram inside two circles. The outer, made of pointy diamond shapes. “My contract seal— nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, my lady.” he says, seeing you looking at it.
Sebastian trails his hand down your stomach. His black tipped fingers enter your folds which are already moist with your arousal. Lowering his head, he nibbles on your neck. You breathe in deeply and wish he would take off his clothes to allow you to see him but he had made it pretty clear who was in charge of the taking off of the clothing. His hand playing around with you down under barely ghosted over your skin. You involuntarily bucked your hips trying to get him to touch you. The move immediately made the demon smirk and say, “Look at you, so eager to be fucked.”
You feel your cheeks heat much like your core. His words are so unexpectedly crude. “Please,” you moan, “please touch me…”
To be continued…
A/N: hahah don't hurt me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments get you kissies.
Masterlist
#anonimusunnoan#anonimuswritings#kuroshitsuji#fanfic#sebastian x reader#sebastianmichaelis#sebastian michaelis#sebastian michaelis x reader#Ciels cousin!reader#anti sebaciel#don't you bring that shit here.#ciel phantomhive#black butler#black butler smut#black butler season 4#kuro2024#kuroshitsuji sebastian#black butler imagines#kuroshitsuji imagines#sebastian michaelis imagines#smut#lemon
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Uuummm hi , 👋😊. I was wondering if U make like stories on ikemen prince . If u do , can u pls pls pls pls make one on Gilbert being a father🤞🤞.I NEED IT 😩😫 plssssss . Ofc you are not force to . TYsm ❤️👑💋
Thank you @alfonssylvaticasbitch for this very lovely ask - as his route is releasing in EN in just a few hours, I thought it would be fitting to post this today.
Anti-Hero - Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
A/N #1: This is now the third Gilbert as a dad fic I've written and also the third fic I've titled after a Taylor Swift song (I promise I am not a Swiftie!) - make of this what you will.
A/N #2: Happy Route Release Day Gilbert - congratulations, now all your secrets will soon be known.
Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader
Prompt: Gilbert as a dad
Word Count: 680
Tags: fluff, no spoilers (other than an appearance by Walter who is just "some guy" in this fic), Gilbert has a daughter
“Here,” the little girl said, placing a toy dragon into Roderich’s hands, “you get to be the dragon today.”
The man wearing a dark hood covering his face stared down at the toy. “Why am I always the dragon?” he muttered.
“Would you rather be the troll?” Walter asked, eyeing the very ugly toy in his hand. “Just go along with it, you don’t want to make him angry.”
Roderich turned his head to see Gilbert seated on a large stone, his little rabbit not far from him.
“Why isn’t he ever the dragon?” Roderich mumbled under his breath. He turned his attention back to the game at hand and moved his dragon to the entrance of the play-castle.
He made loud roaring sounds; the little girl smiled and shrieked, happy to see her friend play along.
“Papa, Papa ! Help me!!!!” she called out frantically. Her arms flailing, she flopped over onto her side, the doll in her hand falling from her fingers. “The dragon…” she gasped, “is coming to get me!”
“Rawr!” Roderich shouted as he moved the dragon closer to the little girl’s doll. He watched as she clutched her heart, sighing dramatically – something her father had done on more than one occasion.
“Papa!” she cried breathlessly. “I need you,” she gasped, “I need my hero to save me!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at your daughter’s theatrics – while she inherited your hair and eyes, she inherited her melodramatics from Gilbert.
“Go,” you urged, “she needs you.”
Gilbert looked at his daughter and then back at you. “I’m not a hero,” he said. “Anti-hero, maybe. But I’m the villain…”
His voice trailed off as his focus turned to his daughter. Sprawled out on the floor, she lay still as the mean and scary dragon approached the princess.
You tugged gently on Gilbert’s sleeve, his gaze returning to you. “In her eyes, you are her papa. A great and wonderful man who adores her. In her world, she only knows the good you have done.”
“I have done bad things. Terrible things.” He tilted his head, sadness washing over his face. “And I might do them again.”
“You won't," you replied softly, to which Gilbert huffed a puff of air.
“And you, little rabbit, how do you see me?”
“I see a man with a good heart who loves his family and his country.”
His expression softened, the way he looked at you was so gentle; he couldn't argue with you – there was not a lie in your voice. His rose-red eye wavered as he pulled you into an embrace, his arms circling your waist, squeezing you so tight.
“I wouldn’t survive without you,” he whispered into a kiss placed upon the crown of your hair.
You pressed your cheek into the dark fabric covering his chest, humming your acknowledgment.
“That’s why I’ll never let you leave my side.”
You pulled away, needing to look into his eye when you spoke. “I wouldn't want it any other way.”
He pressed his lips against yours in a rare sign of affection in front of others. Cool against warmth, it was over before it could go any further.
You ran your palms slowly down his arms, your hands slipping into his. “Now go, be her hero.” You let go of his hands, and watched him walk away.
He took a seat on the ground next to his daughter; once she was calmed, Gilbert turned to you. He held out his hands, his fingers curving into a heart as he smiled at you.
Your heart filled with warmth as Gilbert picked up the toy knight and played the part of the hero, slaying the mean dragon and saving the princess. Nothing could have made you happier than when you saw the smile on your daughter’s face.
“Thank you for saving me, papa,” she squealed as he lifted her in the air. “I love you!”
“I love you, too,” you whispered, giving your husband and child a moment together, their laughter so loud and infectious you couldn't help but join in their joy.
Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381 @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @portrait-ninja @sh0jun
#ikemen series#ikemen prince#ikepri#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri gilbert#ikemen gilbert#ikemen fanfic#ikepri fanfic#otome#otome games#otome fanfic
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Sugar Papas ( Sugar Daddy Headcanons)
I’m stressed about financial things right now so let’s discuss Sugar Daddy Papas. This is very self indulgent.
tw: sfw mostly, a little bit suggestive, mentions of surgery, fluff
Primo
You make him feel young again and he loves indulging you in the things you enjoy. If you’re going to school or you have a passion project he’s more than happy to fund them. Loves to take you with him to vineyards and fancy high society events. Will bring you to tour world famous botanic gardens and spoil you the entire trip.
Probably goes to expensive luxury country clubs and brings you along— there’s a massage and spa service and you always get a nice day of relaxation. You relax in the hot tub together and sometimes things get a little frisky because he just can’t resist that little pleased look on your face when you’re enjoying the heated water and a cold fancy drink that’s sitting on the edge, there’s music playing and not too loud— it’s a good life. You’re pleased and fuck if that’s not the hottest thing to Primo.
Secondo
Loves dressing you in expensive dresses and/or suits and showing you off on his arm. If you like feminine clothing he’ll take you to very fancy boutiques and wait while you try on dresses and the like. You always get 100% of the store’s attention and service because they know that Secondo will spend so much money if you like a particularly outfit. If you prefer masculine clothing, he takes you to expensive tailors and personally finds the best and most suitable fits for you. He’ll suggest several designs, but if there’s something you really have your heart set on he has no problem whipping out his credit card for you.
After retirement he enjoys traveling around Europe and will bring you with him. You always fly first class and his favorite game is ‘how far can we go before the flight attendant gets suspicious’. You have to learn to be quiet very quickly because Secondo has some very talented fingers that wander a lot. What you don’t know is that he’s already paid the crew off to not bother the two of you.
Loves to watch beautiful sunrises and sunsets with you so he always finds accommodations with the best views. He buys the finest wine and loves having you try his favorites or ones that are native to the region or area you are visiting. Loves to hear your opinion of everything— the wine, the food, the countryside. Could listen to you talk for hours.
Terzo
This man buys the most expensive lingerie for you and has you ‘model’ it for him. Takes you to red carpet events and operas, treating you to fancy five-star restaurants with rich food and good wine. He may have a playboy reputation and you had fully expected for this arrangement to only last a few months, but the two of you are celebrating your third year anniversary soon. He’s planning to fly the two of you out to some exotic vacation spot for a full week of absolute bliss.
Every fancy hotel you visit he insists ‘breaking’ the bed in and after his appetite is sated, he will call room service and let you order whatever you want. Buys you expensive body lotions and oils and massages you, hands running up and down your body as he whispers worship and praises.
If you have a favorite tattoo artist you want a tattoo from, he'll do his best to get you a booking and fly you out. He'll sit there and hold your hand and help you take care of it after. And of course, he'll pay for the whole thing.
Copia
You go with him on tour and the ghouls consider themselves lucky to have you because Copia will book the best hotels for you because you deserve nothing less. You enjoy lazy evenings in between concerts nestled in his lap with your back against his chest as a movie plays on the big screen in your hotel room and Copia slowly hand feeds you fruit or cheese, stealing a kiss after each bite.
He loves to have his hands on you, loves the feeling and reminder that you are his. The expensive clothing you wear, the necklace and watch and shoes, those are all claims to him. Little touches against your shoulder, hand around your waist, lips brushing against your temple, you’re intoxicating to him.
Supportive about plastic or transition surgeries, he’ll pay for it all and it will be at the best places with the best care. He’ll pay for any treatments you want, will help administrator them if needed. He will give you so many affirmations for your body whether it be physical or gender-based, he’s more than happy to please. He just wants you to feel comfortable in your own body. Buys you the most expensive products for care.
Sets up an Etsy account for you and links his card to it— doesn’t care what you buy as long as it makes you happy. Almost cries when you buy a little keychain of him and tell him that way he can always be with you-- he immediately insists on finding someone who does custom art and keychains to get one of you too.
#the band ghost#copia#terzo#secondo#ghost band#ghost bc#primo#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia x reader#cardinal copia#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#headcanons
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