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tarjapearce · 7 months

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Happy Birthday, Papa!

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff.

Summary: It's Miguel’s birthday.

A/N: OMG IS HIS BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉🎉😭🎁

You knew that when Miguel was with his arms sprawled on the bed and his back faced you, he was deep asleep.

Sliding off the bed carefully, you went to Gabi's room and Benjamin's. Both with a It's Papa's birthday, you ready?

Benjamin was a little reluctant to wake up, but eventually he did. Sliding off his bed he went to the kitchen with you.

"Let's not make much noise ok? Let Papa sleep for a bit longer."

Benjamin smiled sleepily as he got to fetch his gift. Gabi on the other hand helped you with breakfast while Rosie was still asleep in her crib.

You made Miguel's favorite meal. Green Chilaquiles for breakfast. One of the first things he cooked for you when you began dating. Gabi then started to wrap her present as you finished breakfast and brewed a special blend of coffee he adored.

Luckly, you had done a little cake, Gabi and Benjamin had decorated it. Gabi did the letters and Benji the little swirls of meringue.

In the motions, a few hours had gone by. He had had a rough week at work. Stress got him tired and even less talkative than usual. He was almost silent.

Five minutes before his alarm would go off, Benjamin, Gabriella and a now awake Rosie would enter your room when he was still asleep. You motioned for your children to come in as you put Baby Rosie on the bed, you then went to fetch his breakfast. His alarm went off.

Miguel rubbed his eyes and yawned, a bit surprised to see Rosie next to him instead of you.

"Happy Birthday to you~"

You started singing from the doorframe as you entered with a tray on hands, Gabi and Benji joined you with giggles.

"Happy birthday, dear Papa"

You put the tray on his nightstand to then kiss him. Benjamin scrunching his nose with a little 'ew'

"Happy birthday to you."

Rosie cooed at him as his children clapped and cheered him.

"I love you." You smirked and took Rosie off the bed, "All on Papa! Go go go!" The room was filled in with laughter and squeals as Gabi and Benji tried to tackle him down. A grin on his face.

There was a deep and sheepish yet genuine laugh coming from him. Sometimes he often felt like dreaming. Like he had been doused and high in dopamine. The family he sometimes fantasized wasn't a mere idea anymore.

It was very much real and his little children gave him so much joy, but they wouldn't exist without you. What he did to deserve you, he didn't know. But he knew that asking your forgiveness and rekindle things all those years ago had beyond worth it. Every day of his life spent with you and his children were the best gift someone could ever give him.

It filled his chest with something so overwhelmingly warm and peaceful. Like he always wanted.

"Look Papa! Got you something" Benjamin sat before him and handed a small bundle he had wrapped himself.

"Gracias campeón. Let's see..." (Thanks, champ)

He unwrapped the little bundle carefully, revealing a little card you had helped Benjamin to write along a bag of a expensive coffee blend you had eyed him considering, but chose to buy the snacks for Gabi and Benji.

I love you, Papa :)

A little smiley face he had started drawing in every surface.

"You picked this too, champ?" Benji beamed at him and hugged him. Miguel kissed his head, "Gracias, gracias, gracias, Pequeñín. Me encanta. " (Thank you little one. I love it)

"Happy Birthday Papa" Gabi squeezed him and gave him a red paper bag decored with some of his favorite stuffs. Coffee mugs, lab tools, a little Lego figurine and spiders.

"Gracias Solecito" Gabi watched expectantly as he opened the gift. A pair of bunny slippers his size, and a customized little watch with a spider logo she often saw in his things.

"Got some of my allowance to get it customized for you." He kissed the top of her head and smiled sheepishly. He was overwhelmed, in the good sense of the word.

"Gracias, princesa. Imma wear it for work."

"This one is from Rosie" You pulled a little blue paperbag with a little card with her footprint on it next to a heart. He chuckled at the detail and opened the bag. A new pair of special sunglasses. His old ones fell when they got to another pool day.

They'd help with his photophobia. His arms reached for Rosie and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, mi Rosita Fresita. I love it." He kissed repeatedly at her cheeks, earning him a bubbly giggle.

"And finally, my gift."

Miguel chuckled with a tiny smirk.

"That's for later, mi amor. But here."

You gave him a little black envelop and sat next to him.

"Remember when you told me about this astrophysics and research conference you wanted to go but you were kept in the waiting line?"

His eyes widened as his hands carefully pried the envelop open. An invitation with his name was written in golden serif caps.

"Mi amor... This.... You shouldn't have"

"Well, too bad cause you're going."

You kissed him with a reassuring smile.

"I've got this. Imma be fine."

"You must go, Pa" Gabi urged him. He couldn't say no to that. Or any of the love he was getting.

"Alright, alright. I will."

"Now, make a wish, cariño."

The little cake was the last straw. He blew the candles.

"Mordida! Mordida!" (Bite! Bite!)

Gabriella chanted and as Miguel bit, he got smeared in cake frosting. But this time he got his little revenge. He painted Gabi a bit of whiskers in her cheeks, a dollop on Benji's nose. He pressed a little tiny drop on Rosie's cheek and then pulled you to kiss him.

"Ew" Gabi and Benji spoke almost at unison as you were also smeared in cake frost and crumbles. The kiss even sweeter than before.

"Happy birthday cariño."

-----

You put Rosie in her crib for her nap and as soon as you got in your room, strong arms hugged you, cradling you closer. His frame nearly engulfing you.

"¿Estás bien?" (Are you ok?)

He said nothing but hugged you tighter. Your hands rubbed on his back soothingly. A deep breath warmed your shoulder.

"Thank you." When he broke the embrace you cupped his cheeks and he kissed one of your palms. Red eyes seized you in soft look only you were worthy to get. A look of unbridled love.

"Thanks for always making it better."

You beamed and you hugged his waist at his words.

"We're just giving back all the love you give us, corazón."

"I promise to make it-"

"Miguel. Mi amor. It's your day. Your day, big guy." You smooched and giggled, "Enjoy it."

He crushed you in his arms and you giggled in between squeals.

"Can I have my late present now?"

"Nu uh. We gotta get ready."

His brow raised in suspicion as you smirked

"Whatever for?"

"Another surprise. After that and when the kids are asleep? I'm all yours."

You kissed him once more before going to the door. His words stopped you.

"Mi reina?"

"Hm?"

He blew a kiss to you, earning a giggle.

"Te amo"

"También te amo, Papasito."

You blew the kiss back and went back to get Benjamin ready.

It was his birthday, and best one so far.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara #benjamin o'hara #rosie o'hara #wife reader #miguel's birthday #t writes✨#miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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aloesarchives · 10 days

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Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds.

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets.

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you.

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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being country boy reiner’s cute spoiled wife, literally drooling at the thought

boyyyy I’m literally about to faint 🤤 this is my dream fr. freaky deaky shit up under the cut btw.

cw: dom-ish reiner, unprotected sex, foot play, established relationship obv, missionary/mating press, breeding

when I tell you !country boy reiner spoils the hell out of his wife, it makes no sense! A simple man who’s never wanted for anything..spends his days on the cattle ranch, working tirelessly to provide and give you everything you could ever hope for. As far as he was concerned, your happiness was his only priority. To see you smile was the only motivation he needed to fuel him. He didn’t want you worrying that pretty little head about anything..you often time spent your days decorating the house, baking treats and just living every bit of the soft life you deserved. Wearing pretty, frilly dresses and looking like a doll; he kept his hands dirty so yours wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Bills? Always paid. You couldn’t remember the last time you had even saw one. Needed your hair done, a wig install or a new outfit? Baby, take that black card and run it up, big papa will worry about the bank statement later. That new purse that just got released? Order it in every color if that’s what you wanted. “Get whatever you want, princess. I don’t care.” He’d simply send you off with a kiss to the cheek and tell you have a good time, just call to let him know you were safe. Watching you drive off in your black G-Wagon or Audi R8 he got you for your birthday from the eighty acre estate you lived on. Honey, he was the whole package and you loved him more than life itself. Fine as hell, a great provider and always wanted to handle you like the most fragile thing in the world? Just perfect! Not only that, he was super loving and attentive. Making you sure you were okay, checking in and just doting on you every chance you got. Now even though !country boy reiner never asked a thing of you, you always had a hot meal on the table for him. Cooking up giant spreads of southern, rib sticking favorites of his: cornbread, chicken, steak, collared greens, mac and cheese..you’d do it all because you know he’d been out in the fields, rustling up hay or herding cows so naturally, he’d be starving…and he was so grateful.

the only thing he needed in return was a little bit of that beautiful body. Just letting him make love to you after an exhaustingly long day and trust, you were more than up to the task! While you’d be out shopping, you’d pick a few things that were sure to put a big toothy smile on his face…like the cute little pink lace teddy that made your tits look so perfect. From the adorable panties that had ‘kitten’ or ‘daddy’s’ inscribed right on the back. “This for me, doll?” He loved when he’d hop straight out of the shower to the sight of your pretty little ass, waiting patiently in some sexy lingerie or hell, nothing at all. The best way to show off that new nail set you got? Wrap them around his dick as you’re glaring into his eyes; suckling and kissing on his tip. Or display them across those round cheeks as you spread them open. When you had this big, muscular burly man curled over your body, he’d love when you rested those freshly done feet on his barreled chest; rubbing them as he fed you deep strokes. “That color looks so good on you, baby..my favorite.” complimenting the pretty white toes that contrasted with your perfect brown complexion as he popped them into his mouth. Flicking his tongue around them as he fucks your tight little pussy slow..watching you cream on his cock was his reward for the hard day’s work. Folding you up only to fill you full of his cum when he’s finished.

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focsle · 2 years

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From the diary of Mary Chipman Lawrence, who accompanied her husband Captain Samuel Lawrence on the whaler Addison, 1856-60. Her young daughter Minnie was with her as well, and on July 18th 1859 it was her birthday and they celebrated it on board:

This is Minnie’s birthday—eight years old. I told her a month ago that when it was her birthday, I would make a treat for her in the evening and she might invite all the officers to partake with her. So she has ever since been looking forward to it as a great event. Saturday I made preparation, and I was fortunate in doing so, for I suffered exceedingly Sunday night and for the greater part of this day with a gathering at the roots of my tooth. I was able to get up, however, and prepare the treat for her. We set the table and called the officers down about half-past 7 P.M. Minnie was so happy she hardly knew what to do with herself, and I think we all enjoyed it pretty well. The officers all united in saying that they had not sat down to such a table since they left home. The treat consisted of a plate of sister Celia’s fruitcake, two loaves of cupcake frosted, two plates of currant jelly tarts, and a dish of preserved pineapple, also hot coffee, good and strong, with plenty of milk and white sugar. After we had finished there was ample supply left, which was sent into the steerage for boatsteerers, etc. Minnie arose this morning about four o’clock to look at her presents. She had a box of little notions, a book, and a pocket handkerchief from Mrs. Brayton; a pair of china vases from Mary White; two packages of paper dolls, a book, and a package of drawing cards from Helen Whitney; an ivory shuttle and a half dollar from her papa; and a bottle of cologne, a toothbrush, and a quarter of a dollar from her mamma. Not of much value, but they were all very pleasing to her.

#there’s some really cute shit with Minnie #most of the fellows on these ships seem very endeared to her #awhalin #mary lawrence

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littlepadika · 1 year

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Papa Joely goes on the hunt for a stuffie for his little petal, that way she has something to help her with her separation anxiety? 🥺

Ahhhh I love this idea!!!! I hope you like dis :) I'm so soft after writing it

Warning: DDLG, fem little, no spoilers

Finding anything from ordinary life after the outbreak became increasingly difficult. Food and water was hard enough let alone more coveted items like soap, clothing, and yes toys and baby supplies. The community was growing. People were still having babies. And then there was you.

You lost your precious stuffies in the outbreak and had been using Joel's pillow as a stuffie. You'd carry it around the house and cuddle the pillow in the night. It broke his heart that he didn't have much to make you feel safe as a little and even worse he left you all alone when he went on supply raids.

However one fateful day in April, Joel's patrol team found a the small town that had yet to be raided including a baby store. Cribs, blankets, formula. It was a miracle. Obviously he wanted the new mothers to have first pick (and he knew you'd want that too) but he was able to grab a stuffed brown bunny in the storage room- pristine and still in it's packaging. He stuffed it into his jacket. He hoped everyone was too busy sorting through the supplies to notice him slip it into his saddle back.

"Hey what's that?" Some youngster named Luke asked.

"Mind yer damn buisness." Joel glared, securing the buckle on the saddle bag. Did it really matter if someone saw? People would knife each other over a few ration cards. He was willing to risk it though, for you. Thankfully Luke let it go.

When Joel got back into town, the group took the supplies straight to the makeshift nursery and daycare. No ration cards or politics. For the first time he felt hope. Like humanity may actually be able to survive here. That you might be able to have a piece of normal life.

You were working at the daycare and you ran over as soon as you saw him coming. He couldn't help but smile slightly. You were so damn beautiful. The little rush of relief was always there whenever he saw you were safe. The daycare was well protected but he was never 100% sure of anything anymore.

"What did you bring?" You placed a hand on his leg and peered over at the full wagon.

"You'll see, petal." Joel chuckled, stroking your head affectionately.

After you got everything handed out and sorted, it was time to go home. Joel threw his saddle bag over his shoulder and offered his hand to you.

"hey good work miller!" Someone shouted and he waved humbly. It felt good to do something right for once.

"Josie just had a baby and she's been having trouble breast feeding. That formula will be perfect. And little Riley will love that stuffed bear. It was so cute. Everyone was so happy..." You talk his ear off all the way home.

"I'm proud of you, petal." Joel said, squeezing your hand.

"Why?"

"Because you were very selfless back there. I'm sure it's hard to give all those plushes away."

"They're called stuffies, Joel" You giggle.

"Stuffies..." He drawled.

"They need it more than me." You shrug.

Once home, you immediately grab your pillow and curl up on the couch. Joel smiles at this, setting his bag down by the door. He has to wait until you're occupied with a book to get the stuffie out, dust it off, and tie a pink ribbon around it. The ribbon was expensive but he was so glad he got it to make the present even more perfect.

"Hey petal..." He walked in with his hands behind his back.

"Yeah?" You look up from your book.

"I got somethin' for ya while I was out today."

"Joel... you could get in trouble." You still smile as you chide him.

"Just close your eyes." He sat down across from you on the lumpy sofa. You do.

"It's not my birthday, you know..."

"Shhh... hold out yer hands..."

You cup your hands and the hair on the back of your neck prickles with anticipation. You feel something soft and light be deposited.

"You can open, baby girl."

You already know what it is. And you weren't feeling very little but as soon as you saw it's eyes and floppy ears and big pink bow you were crying.

"Daddy..." You hold the stuffie to your chest, hugging it hard. It was so soft against your cheek.

Joel scoots closer. "I know it ain't what you had but-"

"I- I wuv her." You smile through your tears, throwing yourself into his arms. "Thankie daddy. It's da most perfect gift ever!"

Joel cupped your face gently, feeling his heart clench when your trusting eyes look up at him. "I picked her out special for you. I want you to have a little friend while daddy is away, to make you think of me and remember everything is going to be okay."

"I still wike my pillow." You grab it and place it in your lap.

"You can have pillow. Now you and pillow have a new friend." Joel explains gently.

"I name her... April! P'cause today is April and das when you rescued her, daddy." You hold her up proudly, taking in all her soft fur and floppy arms.

"That's perfect, baby." Joel smiled.

"Say hi April." You lift her paw and look at daddy expectantly.

"Well it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance miz April." Joel shook the bunny's paw. "Now you best take care of my petal. She's the most precious thing in the world and it's a great honor to be lookin' after her while her daddy's away."

"Mhm." You nod up at daddy, so happy he's playing with you and April.

Daddy masterlist

#ask padika #little bird 🦢#daddy!joel #little!reader #joel miller x reader

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nicohischierz · 7 months

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birthday wishes, birthday kisses: quinn hughes

tani speaks:okay so i cant access my taglist to see who wanted to be tagged in this au but enjoy!!

amanda

liked by lhughes_06 and others

amanda: happy birthday to my forever hockey boy and the greatest father lucas could’ve asked for.

i love you so much sweet boy and i’m so proud of everything you’ve done. from helping you babysit jack and luke to now bringing up our son together, i wouldn’t have asked for a better partner.

to the captain of my heart (and canucks) i don’t know what i’d do without you.

(tagged:_quinnhughes)

comments have been restricted

you and lucas woke up before the canucks flight to edmonton left in the morning.

“come on mama, i want to wake papa up,” lucas exclaimed.

the two of you had made quinn breakfast and lucas had made his father a card and had even helped in cooking the eggs.

you carried the tray of food while lucas ran into quinn’s room and jumped on his bed.

“happy birthday papa!” he exclaimed.

quinn turned to his son and opened his arms for a hug.

“happy birthday quinny,” you placed the tray of food on the bed and kissed the top of quinn’s head.

“look papa, i made you a card and i helped mama with the eggs,” lucas boasted.

quinn smiled and thanked his son, hugging lucas before looking to you.

this was probably one of his favourite birthdays.

#dad!quinn hughes #lucas hughes au #quinn hughes imagine #nicohischierz insta edit #nicohischierz writes

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cherry-blossom-qf · 2 months

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BEHOLD!! THE AU I'VE BEEN COOKING UP FOR MONTHS!!

DIGIMOM CODENAME: DREAMLAND!

Basic Story Info: Susie is the daughter of Max Haltmann, the CEO and founder of his own computer company. (kinda like the original Susie lol)

But on her 18th birthday, a bunch of Digimon came through a portal and kidnapped her father and half the employees of the company. And it's up to Susie to save her father from whatever evil Digimon is behind all of this.

Accompanying her as her digital partners are the first two friendly Digimon she met in the Digital World. Marxamon and Magomon. Two sneaky little scam artists that Susie saved from an angry mob.

Once they heard her story, they both (eventually) agreed to help Susie find her father and protect her from the dangers of the Digital World, with Susie mysteriously gaining a Digivice in the form of a wrist watch as a symbol of their friendship.

Together, the three of them traveled all across the Digital World, fighting battles, solving mysteries, exploring new areas, you get the idea.

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Info on Susie: A young girl from the city of [insert place in Japan that isn't effing Tokyo]. She's a headstrong go-getter and intelligent gal, who's a major tech wizard, finding comfort in machinery and modeling. She has a weakness to cute fluffy things and sweet treats. She's a huge "papa's girl", as her loving father is the best dad (and only parent) a girl could ask for. Which makes finding him even more important to her.

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Info on Marxamon: A silly little jester bat digimon that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Gluttony, Beelzemon, and a childhood friend of Magomon. With a "gives no shits" attitude and a craving for mischief, Marxamon is always up for a good prank or two. His special move "Spiraling Scream" has been known to leave even the strongest of champions feeling dizzy and temporarily deaf.

His Champion evolution, Jecksmon, is no different. Growing bigger wings, longer legs, and an even bigger taste for mischief than before! Having the ability to create mirrored copies of himself with his special move "Mirror Dance", and shoots blasts of chaotic energy from his mouth with his other move "Soul Cannon", he truly becomes chaos reincarnated!

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Info on Magomon: A little bell-shape feline magician that shares DNA with the Demon Lord of Greed, Barbamon, and a childhood friend of Marxamon. Although somewhat timid, his cunning and clever nature shows no bounds, treating almost anything like a performance he must perfect. Shrouding his secrets in veils of lies that he swears to never unravel, as it might bring unwanted attention, (aka: this bitch's got MEGA TRAUMA and is keeping it all a secret). His special move "Gemtastic Bombs" has him throwing multiple bombs made of different types of gems, usually Sapphire, Ruby, and Emerald.

His Champion evolution, Galormon, gives him a huge confidence boost and some card tricks up his (metaphorical) sleeves! With the ability to spin around, creating a tornado of cards and fire with his special move "All-In-Spin" and sucking in enemies into his hat with his other special move "Hatter Hole", his performance on the battlefield makes this fancy Digimon a sight to behold!

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The other evolutions are gonna be left a mystery for now, cuz I haven't drawn them yet, lol.

So yeah, I hope you like this new AU!! I worked my ass off to figure this stuff out, and I hope it was worth the wait!!! ^w^

#my art #APOLOGIES FOR ANY SPELLING AND GRAMMAR MISTAKES IN THIS POST #Digimon Codename: DREAMLAND #'where tf is kirby in this kirby au?' I'LL GET TO IT EVENTUALLY!! JUST SIT TIGHT!!#digimon au #digimon digital monsters #kirby au #kirby susie #kirby marx #kirby magolor #kirby super star #kirby return to dreamland deluxe #kirby planet robobot

65 notes · View notes

ventique18 · 11 months

Text

Twisted Wonderland Illustrations Masterlist

🌸 Links under the cut 🌸

Regular Style

Malleus Draconia

A little but sunny

Season of love

Glorious

Happy Birthday Malleus 2024

Lecture notes scribble

Smart casual

An unexpected encounter

Love at first realization

Kisses

Morning coffee

Sakura matcha

Little star

Expressive dragon

Sunflower

Book 7 if

University AU ID card

Love gestures

Kundiman (Love Song)

Colors

Love

Fool in love

Contamination (+ Azul)

I like you (I love you)

Fate

Wish Upon A Star

Kiss Day

Tsunotarou!

Sketches

Beloved (yandere)

Beach boi

My everything

Summer day

Fae

Enchanted

King of the Abyss

Tipsy

FMalleus x MYuu

Warm

Papa

Papa Hornton

Young master

Solitude of the moon

Gentle flower

Love language

Cute

Desire 🔞

Faceswap

Hatchling

Hot kiss

Matching tamagotchis

Others

Twst meow delivery (overblotters)

Shelter (Maleanor and Malleus)

Jameow employee of the year

Idimeow express

Vilmeow express

Jamilmeow express

Azulmeow express

Leonameow express

Riddlemeow express

NRC Top Secret Elite Squad

Papa and Mama Draconia's Valentine's date

Strawberry tyrant (Riddle)

Assemble, mighty rabbit knights! (Silver and Sebek)

HBD Leona 2022

HBD Leona 2023

HBD Silver 2022

HBD Silver 2023

HBD Riddle 2022

HBD Idia 2022

HBD Idia 2023

HBD Azul 2022

20-pixel tiny boys (Diasomnia)

Unusual expressions (mal, vil, leona, azul)

Distressed expressions (mal, leona, riddle, jamil)

Love Shot (Leona)

Transit (Diasomnia)

Malleus' parents headcanons (oc)

Witch Princess (Meleanor Draconia)

Chibi Style

Malleus Draconia

Mallemeow express

Potato farmer

Hedgehogleus

Meowlleus Drawrconia

He bounce

Bocchi

Soaring boys

Sleepy Diaso

Dragon and girl

Aranara Malleus

'Puter Malleus

Tiny hearts

Tandemalleus

Baby Malmal loves you

Malleusaurus

#ventique masterlist #twisted wonderland #twst

221 notes · View notes

kleewie · 2 years

Text

speak now or forever hold your peace

summary: it’s your special day and you’re ready to tie the knot with the love of your life. but a certain letter ends up on your doorstep telling you to ‘don’t say yes’ and runaway with him now. hey, what’s a wedding without the drama? (in other words, a modern au about a special someone desperately wanting you to marry him instead. but this begs the question of who?)

→ pairings: diluc, & ayato

→ warnings: slight swearing. angst. fluff (if you squint), mentions of drinking and alcohol, gender neutral reader.

→ author's note: i was listening to speak now (taylor please release the album) and this idea popped in my head. i might write a part two with more characters if i feel like writing more aaaaa. there might be present tense issues since this hasn’t been beta read,, anyway, i hope you enjoy!

long post ahead!

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful! i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

the prologue.

“you dropped this.” ganyu says, handing a white envelope with gold engraving.

“a letter?” you ask, confused.

“earlier, you carried the bouquet and it slipped out.”

curiosity beckons you to rip the seal off the letter and pull out a card. the gold print catches your eyes while you repeat the words to your companions.

if second thoughts plague your mind, meet me at the back entrance of the church. i’ll see you soon.

“this has to be the worst time to be admitting to a fiancé steal-and-run,” keqing muses.

a joke, this has to be a joke. your thoughts sing. your wedding is in an hour. you should be preparing to walk down the aisle without a worry in the world.

instead, the notion of an objection to your marriage as you recite your vows makes your heart race— in the worst way possible. yet, the thought of who could have done this pops in your mind.

“any idea of who wrote it?” ayaka wonders, as if reading your thoughts.

the timing? the medium? the words? who else can it be?

“just a hunch.”

diluc: the first love

the first meeting with the heir to the ragnvindr corporation begins on the wrong foot.

hell, it begins terribly— you cringe each time the memory resurfaces.

a week before meeting diluc you meet his brother, kaeya—long story short, your father works for the ragnvindrs and wants you to befriend the brothers as they (crepus and papa) are good friends— and he tells you they are going to throw a surprise party for hothead’s eighth birthday.

one problem. he never explains what he looks like.

so on the day of the party, you lounge outside waiting for the birthday boy. and once a redhead arrives, it confuses you.

the invites practically say enter through the back entrance.

gosh, did he not read the invite? what if diluc saw! the party would be ruined!

thinking about it now, you wonder how distracted you were to assume a good looking boy with the rich-kid aura wasn’t diluc.

anyway, you rush towards him and hiss “what are you doing here?” while gripping his hand gently. “the party entrance is at the back door!”

he winces at your sudden friendly contact (or because you bluntly ruined the surprise, he is a smart kid. of course, he knows what you're talking about. yet he couldn't help but ask the question to rouse a reaction out of you) “party?”

“for diluc! his party?” you huff.

at the time, you think this kid has to be the dumbest monkey bun for being too slow to understand the vibe.

while to diluc, he thinks you are the pettiest pipsqueak to ever have lived— he assumes you knew who he is. but wanted to ruin the surprise anyway.

so when kaeya magically whisks through the front door with a smirk saying, “what took you so long, brother?” diluc reasons you’re in cahoots with the he-devil and instantaneously hates you a thousand-fold.

you being a smart kid, feels the resentment. and embarrassment fills up your whole consciousness.

yes. you spoiled the party. great job. and you feel so bad.

as you sincerely apologize, diluc cuts you off with a “save it,” and runs up the stairs to his house.

rude!

but you did ruin his surprise party (kids are petty like that.)

no worries, you do get to apologize properly.

well, after diluc accidentally pushes you causing you to land face first into his birthday cake— okay, to his defense, it wasn't premediated. someone left a bowl on the floor, near the table, he trips, and forces his weight onto your back, causing the whole issue.

though, diluc feels terrible.

yes, he still dislikes you for ruining the surprise (again, children are petty) but not to the point that he would intentionally hurt you.

so he genuinely apologizes.

you truthfully admit you had no idea he was diluc, while saying sorry.

and you become friends.

you both promise to let bygones be bygones.

still, each year on diluc's birthday, you unsurprisingly get a cake slam onto your face (candles excluded!) and he gets messages of “don't forget to bring the cake to diluc's birthday bash at 6:00 o'clock sharp!“ on random days before his actual day.

pretty much, you become the best of friends.

need someone to beat up bullies who laugh because you can't afford new school shoes? he's your kid! he'll pay for the hospital fees and buys two pairs of the shiniest shoes without letting you know it was him.

when bringing it up, he always plays dumb. “shoes? what shoes?”

and that's what you love about him, he never seems to claim the credit.

need a study buddy for high school entrance exams? he's your man! he will not stop until you master each and every subject matter, eyes closed.

and even if you do get failing marks, he never chastises you for it.

he simply encourages and promises he'll keep in touch.

just because you both go to different schools doesn't mean you'll lose your close friendship, you try to console yourself.

so imagine your surprise on the first day of class, seeing his red locks passing through the door. once your eyes meet, a small smile forms on his mouth. “surprised? don't think you’ll be getting rid of me anytime soon.”

and you're ecstatic. the chaotic duo together in high school! imagine all the fun trips, and school events you can attend together!

what are best friends for? obviously to have fun!

some days are particularly bad. like when you're sobbing your lungs out at three a.m. because someone manages to break your heart into a thousand pieces.

he's there too. always there.

imagine his surprise, hearing your heart-wrenching sobs over the phone. his soul breaks hearing you cry and his hands clench in anger; how could anyone hurt someone as wonderful as you?

he absolutely loathes your boyfriend.

ex-boyfriend, he corrects. by the way things are going he won’t accept anything less than stranger with a target on his head.

minutes later, he's inside your house with your favorite drink in hand, rubbing soothing circles behind your back with the other.

you apologize for wasting his time (you both have tests later in the afternoon) and listlessly laugh, “you'll eventually get worn out. my drama's a witch.”

“really?” he hums. “i could never get tired of you.”

more under the cut!

you exchange looks and feel the warmth of a blush crawl up your neck. while diluc coughs sensing the awkwardness.

maybe he does stand a chance. he hopes.

he leaves minutes later, slightly in a better mood to when he came.

yes, he feels awful seeing you cry. but seeing your reddened cheeks as a consequence of his proximity and comfort pacifies his shaky feelings.

things have been slightly awkward for the both of you after.

there have been lingering looks here and there, frequent touching of hands on the bus seat (“it's crowded, stay close.”) even gnawing thoughts of i don't think you know this, but i like you, without courage to say it out loud.

up until a certain incident happens.

with diluc's looks, status, and intelligence, no wonder he's the most popular student in the class. more like the whole year.

mountains of letters appear in his locker daily, and once in a while, a student proclaims their underlying love for redhead (to no avail, as he plainly acknowledges their feelings), finishing off with a “not interested.”

one day an extremely good-looking upperclassmen reaches out to him and confesses their feelings— you, feeling especially jealous, grumbles about how stupid he was to reject such an attractive person.

diluc, slightly annoyed at your assumption, rolls his eyes. “because i fell for you, obviously.”

your mouth gapes open.

what? no way.

his confession results into a game of hide and seek wherein, you: run for your life in sheer surprise (“oh god, this has to be the worst prank he's ever done!”); and him: chasing after you in complete frustration (“is it that hard to accept i have feelings for you?”)

in the end, he catches you underneath the oak tree and you both share a kiss.

how romantic!

both of you stay after school hours to clean up all the trashcans and mop buckets toppled over because of the hunt.

anyway, a relationship with your best friend is pretty blissful. almost very similar to your previous relationship (aka. friendship).

diluc teaches topics you have difficulty with, walks home with you after class, more frequent calls before sleeping at night, a little kiss here and there.

actually, a lot of kisses. and hugs.

with recurring “not in front of my face!” hisses from kaeya.

and retorts of “leave!” and “knock the damn door first!” from you and diluc respectively.

but with every relationship, there are ups and downs.

and one awful down changes everything.

the moment crepus dies—the ragnvindr family vacation (for diluc’s eighteenth birthday) results to a sudden a car crash, with both brothers leaving the incident unscathed but scarred— diluc becomes bitter and closed-off. a natural reaction to someone whose heart has been ripped out into a thousand pieces.

you have been trying to console the hurt man: calling him every night; caressing his hair as he falls asleep; assisting him with homework he’s too exhausted to begin; and hugging his body tight as he shakes in utter grief and sadness.

you’d like to think, slowly by slowly, it gets better.

and sooner or later, you’ll be able to reach out to your closed-off lover.

and it’ll be okay.

but when you’re too busy consoling someone whose heart is covered in sorrow, who’ll be there for you when heartache and sadness take over you?

constantly hiding your feelings become the new normal as you try to lessen the burden on your boyfriend.

until it reaches the breaking point and he lashes out, causing a big fight.

with the pressure of being the next heir to the ragnvindr company, the expectations of stakeholders, and the burden of protecting all he cares about, diluc couldn’t allow himself to be open to any risks.

“it’s impossible to pretend nothing’s wrong, when everything is,” diluc murmurs. “i’m not ready to get hurt again.”

your body shakes and you cry. “why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

it’s a stupid argument.

it wasn’t supposed to end that way.

but it is, what it is: the fight that ended your relationship.

the timing of the quarrel conveniently (sarcasm) destroyed all chances of reconciling with your ex-lover as he decided to: stop attending classes as the last semester of the year ended days before your fight; and to add fuel to the fire, he disappears without a trace.

diluc changes his number, moves out of his apartment. spamming the company email proves to be pointless, and even reaching out to kaeya causes a pitiful look. “sorry, i can’t.”

the last time you’ve seen diluc was the fight. and knowing his personality, he wouldn’t show himself unless he wants to.

so when he appears at the wedding reception carrying a salmon-colored box, feelings of surprise, happiness, and confusion resonate your heart.

“am i dreaming? mr. ragnvindr attending my small wedding?” you jested. “why i’m honored.”

he hands you the gift, shaking his head. “i was invited.”

“i expected you to be busy, you-know, with your own wedding.”

the news of the engagement between the ragnvindr and gunnhildr families captured headlines for months now. of course, you know.

“father would’ve rolled around in his grave if i didn’t.”

you smile. after all these years, the sarcastic diluc you once remember shows his colors, albeit slowly.

your hands pull the ribbon off the present and you open the box. inside, a name tag with your name on it.

before you can inquire the meaning of the present, the master of ceremonies chirps, “now, ladies and gentlemen. we shall have the cutting of the cake!”

that’s your cue to proceed to the main hall and do the honors of cutting the dessert with your beloved husband.

as if sensing your confusion, diluc answers. “so they remember you as the marriage celebrant.” then adds “try not to fall on the cake.”

you burst out laughing. all this time, he’s still the pettiest brat you know. “i thought we let bygones be bygones.”

“i keep my promises.”

soon the mc ushers you towards the cake-cutting table, you taking your time talking must have taken a toll on the program flow.

a thought suddenly nags your consciousness. who wrote the letter?

turning your neck slightly, you see diluc walk towards a good-looking blonde woman, and his brother. a small smile creeps on his face.

of course, diluc didn’t write the letter.

he’s never one for regrets and second thoughts.

bonus:

“oh god!” you wail. “i failed math and science!”

diluc’s bewildered. all he hears before you bust down his front door are scrambled expressions of i’ll never get into college! and i’ll die alone!

you’re sixteen. you have your whole life ahead of you. how two failed quizzes develop into the slippery slope destruction of your complete existence confuses him.

bawling, you grip his wrist. “diluc— you have to attend my wedding.”

he knows you well. whenever something terrible happens, whether it be a failed test or even larger issues, your mind spirals down the road of bad thoughts, irrational beliefs, and unreasonable consequences.

a sarcastic reply almost escapes his lips, but the worried look on your face erases it completely.

“…i will,” he answers.

“you will?” you sputter, brows furrowed in confusion.

of course he will. what kind of person would he be to miss your wedding?

“i promise.”

ayato: the nemesis

no one manages to ignite the nastiest part of your soul like kamisato ayato.

i mean, you’ve met your fair share of handsome, rich, and smart men, but he succeeds in coming out on top as the worst of the bunch.

yes, he is good-looking, wealthy, and clever.

denying the fact is impossible.

but when someone talks about how kind-hearted he is?

how generous and caring?

it makes you blow a fuse.

you first meet him at a college party.

ayaka invites you to a close nit celebration with a few of your close friends, to celebrate the end of the exam week. her brother, who you’ve never met before as he skipped a year (or two), attends as well through her pestering. as she wants him to get to know her, quote “soulmate!”

you’ve only known the woman for a short while (four months) and you expect her own sibling to be as fun, charming, and generous as she is.

boy, are you wrong.

he arrives with his own friend group, all smiles, and takes the farthest seat away from where you, ayaka, and keqing (a classmate) are. he waves at his sister and returns to talk with a man with messy blonde hair.

ayaka annoyed at his indifference, hollers, “my friends! keqing and—” and pointing at you, “my closest confidant!”

ayato replies with a short wave and a smile.

he seems nice! (for now)

the party goes on: more glasses in hand, a few drinking contests, loud laughter, screaming, until it comes to a point where you feel dizzy from all the blinding lights— and your stomach makes this grumbling, gurgling noise.

you guessed it. you’ve eaten something bad. very bad.

muttering a quick “watch my drink,” you head outside. and ready yourself for any hurl that may sprout from your mouth.

while crouching behind a dumpster, you hear the chime of the door opening. the sight of blue hair catches your eyes, and you can’t help but listen into the conversation he’s having on his phone.

they weren’t being particularly quiet. i mean, it’s difficult to tune out someone shouting at the top of their lungs.

well, you’re not particularly blameless either. alcohol tends to turn the lightest of sounds into the heaviest of noises.

“having fun? meet anyone interesting?” the person on the phone asks.

ayato scoffs, “no one special.” he kicks a pebble before adding, “a few are nice, some are pathetic.”

his sudden display of hostility causes you to slip and, before you know it, his eyes meet yours. awkwardly, you grin. he returns the gesture with a smirk and walks back inside the bar.

a fluke, you reason. you’ve probably caught him at the wrong time. it’s easy to assume the bad in people out of context.

so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

the next day, you run into him outside the university courtyard with his friends. hoping (that you read the room wrong yesterday), you try to start a conversation with the man.

it ends fruitless though. he succeeds in ending the discussion as quick as possible with the excuse of having classes.

hey, sure! of course, you understand. classes are important.

so you disregard his unresponsiveness.

a comment from ayaka, irks you. “really? he’s free at the afternoons though?” only slightly.

it’s fine! of course, you get the picture. talking to strangers tire some people out.

so you forget his lie.

but every time you try to get to know your best friend’s brother, he always succeeds in turning the conversation into something one-sided, leaving you feeling neglected afterwards.

oh well. so what if he’s nice to everyone but you?

who cares if he gets along with all your friends?

it doesn’t hurt you one bit! (even if you’re the only one uninvited to hangout with his friends)

who needs a narrow-minded, rude, and overcritical jerk like him anyways?

thus, you ignore the douchebag with the passion of a burning suns.

except this time, he purposely steps on the paper (the air-conditioner blows it off your desk) that took you the whole night to cram and write by hand.

he does pick it up.

however, the ungenuine “sorry,” he quips (with his signature smirk) fuels your anger to the highest level.

and you lose your temper.

but not before scrambling to erase the footmarks left on your paper ahead of the due date. which was in five minutes, tops.

nevertheless, you do confront him about the issue a few hours later.

“listen here, you piece of shit. it took me hours to finish that paper. hours!”

“i apologized, didn’t i?” he gibes.

your face reddens in frustration, “you’re going to pay for that!”

he smiles. “oh? is that a threat?”

that becomes the day you place a target on his back.

and the start of frivolous payback fueled by pure animosity and bitterness.

you offer homemade donuts to the kamisato household (you visit for a project), specifying that the box with the blue ribbon is for the unfortunate creature ayato only.

he gives you the stink eye the next day. he must love the mayonnaise-filled doughnuts.

ayato returns the favor by replacing the cream-filling of oreo cookies with toothpaste. in your defense, the wrapper was completely sealed and untampered. it’s impossible to know how he did it!

one afternoon, you place sticky notes all over his car. imagine his surprise to see an assortment of ‘goodlucks’ and smiley faces on the yellow paper,

and the list goes on.

weird enough. no matter what pranks you throw at each other, it’s sort of an unspoken rule to never cause enough harm to seriously hurt one’s studies or reputation (feelings).

you hope.

hence it comes as a complete shock to see your own cellphone floating in a bucket of mop water. no matter what you do, the device doesn’t turn on, prompting you to buy a new one.

a cost you can’t afford either.

so you cry.

both from the stress and betrayal.

the initial anger from his neglect faded into something akin to dislike, closer to light bickering. it hurt more thinking how you were almost getting along. even if it’s not the most conventional way of becoming friends.

when ayato comes through the door. seeing as you’re late for another school project at the kamisato household (his sister begged him to pick you up) and he’s at the same building anyway, why not walk together? (with a bit of teasing along the way)

the first thing he sees are the tears streaming down your face. followed by your excruciating sobs. he instantly knows something’s wrong.

“what happened to your face?” he asks, softly.

cheeks flushing, you seethe. “how could you! stupid pranks, i understand. but destroying my stuff? you’re awful!” and another sob racks your body.

he watches your hands cradle a wet cellphone and right away, comprehends the situation.

you think he did this.

you think he deliberately hurt your feelings (and phone).

unexpectedly, the thought of you hating him wounds his conscience.

“i may dislike you, but i’m not heartless.” he mutters.

with glossy eyes, you stare at the man.

he looks sincere. the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

'cause you’re too busy noticing his flaws and scheming

he’s telling the truth, isn’t he? i mean, he isn’t the type to lie and all. instead, he’s more likely to laugh and take the claim rather than play innocent.

...so you believe him.

but ayato senses the hesitation and sighs.

slightly irritated by your skepticism, he grips your chin with his fingers and gently pulls your face towards his—your eyes meet. “is it that hard to believe?”

you shake your head. almost immediately.

and the issue is solved.

you believe the jerk-face is telling the truth (calling him one to eradicate the sappiness and to keep up with your i-slightly-don’t-hate-you-but-i-have-to-pretend-i-do-for-reputations-sake persona).

and he trusts you'll treat him the same (and forget about his sentimental moment with you in the classroom).

did i mention, you also receive a new phone from him the next day?

you burst into ayaka’s empty classroom, holding up the new device. “please tell your brother i’m thankful. but did he have to flaunt his cash by getting the newest model? oh god—” you exclaim. “i owe him a kidney now, don’t i?”

your closest friend shoots a quizzical look and asks, “what phone?”

dazed, you look at her.

who else would’ve bought you the phone?

so you take her confusion as protecting her brother’s character (doubt the man would appreciate you advertising how kind and caring he is to buy someone, one who has smacked an egg on his head last week, a phone).

and you go on with your day, occasionally throwing the guy a stink eye.

by now, you realize your relationship with your adversary changes from ‘i slightly despise you so damn much!’ into ‘hey, some brat pushed me down the stairs. you in for some whooping?’

simply, he becomes the chaotic, manipulative, and scheming associate you can count on to teach you math problems, while being present for more sinister things.

like recording three upperclassmen threatening to pummel you for breaking their so-called angel’s heart. technically, ayato did the breaking. and why you’re being bullied in his place, you have no clue.

“really? suing them? are you insane?” you blurt.

ayato shrugs his shoulders. “why? prefer a hit man?”

“no— what? i can’t afford a lawyer!”

you don’t have to, he has you covered.

apparently his trust fund covers intimidation, lawsuits, and hospital bills (for, surprisingly, a fourth upperclassman trying to trip you after hearing the first three fail at their bullying tactics).

not only does he offer protection over bullies, he provides unsolicited relationship advice as well!

like the time you start dating a student from a different university. each occasion you try bringing up the man, he has no qualms in squandering the alleged person’s reputation.

you roll your eyes. “he’s not that bad! he’s kind and smart and loves the same music i do!”

“oh, really?”

“yes! really.”

ayato scoffs. “lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

this close, you are this close to throwing your drink at him.

good thing you don’t.

days later, the so-called boyfriend goes missing and the next time you find him is at a bar. dancing and kissing random strangers.

you’re too agitated at the i told you so smirk forming on ayato’s lips to berate the player for hurting your feelings.

anyway, besides the pranks and teasing, kamisato ayato’s a great friend.

though, sometimes you have your doubts.

especially when it comes to being the best man of your wedding.

why your husband decided on him, you absolutely have no idea.

“no. you will not bartend!” you hiss. “the last time you did, we ended up blacking out on a beach! on a random island! with thoma vomiting his guts out!”

ayato hums. “oh? your loss. it’s not everyday a special someone gets married.”

though, he senses your unrest. earlier, you were over the moon, excited for wedding. now, a feeling of dread radiates your form. mixed with the sudden outburst (asking to bartend was more of a joke, really), he knows something happened.

so he prods the subject. hoping it results to an answer (instead of him being kicked out from the ceremony).

and you, though reluctant, explain how a letter landed in your dressing room, begging you to stop and marry them instead.

eyes squinting at his, a sudden clarity forms in your head. “too low. this has to be the worst prank you’ve ever played! on my day— you’re nuts!”

ayato pauses, thinking. “i’m flattered, really, but i’m no wedding crasher.”

you shake your head, taken aback.

if he didn’t do it. who else would it be?

suddenly, the processional song chimes, causing you to flinch in surprise.

following the sound, an elated ayaka hollers, calling your attention to walk to your proper place (as practiced in rehearsals).

curiously, you peek at the quiet man. “you know, i still don’t really know why i used to despise you.”

ayato smiles. “i’m irresistible, aren’t i?”

bonus:

“you’re a bad liar, did you know that?”

ayato peeks at his younger sister. “oh, really?”

she knowingly places a hand on his shoulder. “everyone knows you’d wreck the wedding if you wanted to.” she pauses, “so why didn’t you?”

faraway, he watches as you bounce your legs in excitement. and soon, the doors will open, and you’ll walk towards the love of your life.

the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“they’re good for each other.” he lies.

though he never wrote the letter. sometimes he falls asleep with you on his mind. is it worth it? risking everything he holds dear, for a chance?

would you have fallen in love with him instead?

as symphonies of music reach his ears, a stinging thought sings.

‘would you have said yes if he asked?’

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful! i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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violet-lazer · 2 years

Text

Reciprocity

Content / Warnings : Secondo/Reader, Explicit, Gender-Neutral Reader, Oral Sex, Birthday Smut, Soft-ish Secondo, 4.8k words. Thanks, please enjoy! (AO3)

Secondo discovers it's your birthday, and is more displeased than he expects that you haven't told him. For my lovely friend @ghoulymadge 🥀

Secondo notices. It’s the instinct, the knack, the guiding hand of Lucifer on his shoulder. It’s his talent for seeing which eyes in the crowd are most desperate for his to meet them, which Siblings give him a wide berth in the corridor, which abysmal move Copia is about to play during card games. And today, Secondo noticed that the leftmost side of the third pew was vacant at his afternoon sermon. Unusual.

In the hour or so since his sermon concluded, Secondo has been stalking the corridors, contemplative. It’s certainly not that he’s looking for someone. It’s not that he’s looking for you. It’s simply that it’s exceedingly uncommon for him not to spy you in that third pew, rosary draped over your fingers, listening in-- well, if it wasn’t rapture it was certainly a very good imitation. You are always first on your knees to accept communion. You always meet his gaze.

Presently, Secondo’s contemplation sees him circling back to the chapel in time for Terzo’s Mass to conclude. Settling against a pillar, he watches as the congregation begin to file out, accepting their scattered greetings with a polite nod. He waits for the crowd to thin and strides into the chapel proper.

There are a few Siblings lingering by the chancel, some tidying, some chatting, one tending to what appears to be a rather large red wine stain on the floor. Secondo sighs. From the altar, Terzo raises an eyebrow.

“Oh. What do you want?”

“You have been working on your manners, I see.”

Terzo shrugs. “I aim to please. Since we are in polite company-” he gestures loosely at the remaining Siblings- “let me start again. What can I do for you on this fine afternoon?”

Secondo relents. “I am…looking for someone. Someone who usually only attends my sermons. I thought, perhaps, something may have happened to their standards, and was concerned that I might find them here.”

“Biting,” Terzo says. “Very good. I see, you are upset that your favourite has abandoned you today.”

Secondo folds his arms. “I do not have favourites.” “Then why do I know precisely who you are talking about, hm?” Terzo scoffs, gathering some papers from the altar and handing them to a waiting Sibling. “I saw the two of you talking the other night and could have sworn I heard you ask them a personal question. Unprecedented.”

It’s not that Secondo doesn’t have admirers. Lovers. Comes with the job, the title. It’s just that, as the years go on, he’s becoming tired of deciphering intent.

He has a reputation. All of the Papas do. It’s that shared folklore of the clergy, woven into lore by threads of shared conversations, retellings of sexual encounters, speculation into their personal lives. Ask a Sibling? Secondo was… brusque. Direct. Uncompromising. Difficult to get to know. And people love a challenge.

Usually, it’s obvious and telegraphed; the Siblings who approach him like a puzzle. The attempts to sidle up to him in the library, probe him with questions, to earn an invite into his bed. At this point it’s almost amusing, and Secondo is normally content to entertain them for the night, sending them home well-fucked and pleased with themselves. Good for them if they think they know the first thing about him afterwards.

But, you know, it’s wearing a little thin. There’s a fine line between casual for casual’s sake and casual to avoid disappointment. Secondo is familiar with disappointment, he carries it around with him in a deep, bone-aching weariness, and has no desire to add more weight.

Last week, you’d turned to leave after one of your post-Mass conversations and he’d almost followed you. It had startled him, a frown settling onto his face as he watched you go. Ask him, and he wouldn’t say you were close- you speak a few times a week, post-sermon, or when you see one another in the halls. It’s been a few months of this, since you devoted yourself to his sermons- I think you might be the one, Papa- and as reticent as he is, Secondo…enjoys you. He allows you to linger after Mass where he encourages others to go about their day, he packs his things more slowly when you do stay so he might entertain your questions. Your enquiries about his personal time don’t seem transactional, and to his retrospective regret, his tongue is looser when it’s you doing the asking. But, he thinks, perhaps that’s as far as it should go. After all, isn’t it better not to want, truly want something? Aren’t you hoisting yourself for a fall?

The Sibling attending to the spilled wine raises their head, and Secondo notes that this is definitely a situation where attempted cleanup merely spreads the problem around.

“I know who you’re on about,” they say, abandoning their sponge. “They’ve booked the day off. It’s their birthday.”

“Ah,” Secondo says. This feels like pertinent information. Should he know that? There’s a tug in his chest that tells him he should. Had you told him? No. He would’ve remembered. Why hadn’t you told him?

Terzo shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Ooh, that’s terrible. You should’ve known that.”

“I did.”

It’s too early in the day for such an obvious lie, but Secondo’s priorities have taken a sharp turn to the left. He utters a quick thanks to the Sibling then turns on his heel, marching out of the chapel and through the winding corridors of the Ministry.

He knows the living quarters well. To clarify, he knows the exact position of the handle on the oak bedroom doors when reaching for it in the dark with someone pressed eagerly against him, and he knows how many steps it is from threshold to bed. It’s been others, but it’s not been you.

Once, he thinks, striding down the hallway towards your room, once it might’ve been you. One harsh night last month you’d crossed paths in the corridor - cold tonight isn’t it, Papa? - and he’d dropped into conversation so readily he’d ended up following you to the living quarters. You converse with an ease that almost circles to instil unease in him, it’s so unfamiliar. For Lucifer’s sake, he’d told you about his bath. A single comment from you about the chill, and the sight of you wrapping your arms around yourself to retain heat, and he’d told you about his bath. Information that he does not divulge readily, but there it was, one more confession you’d pulled out of him with obscene simplicity. There’s a very nice bathroom in Secondo’s quarters, and he’s managed to keep it quiet. It’s not the perfectly serviceable ensuite he directs any nocturnal guests or visitors to, it’s the box room he had refitted on the sly when most of the senior clergy were at an awful team-building weekend a few years ago. And he…told you about it. There, outside your room, watching you shiver.

You’d laughed at the revelation, joked about him inviting you over to take a bath. So bold, but isn’t that what jokes are for? Testing the waters? Secondo had stopped to let his eyes rove over you, to let his mind wander, to imagine the two of you in his most sacred of places; wet, naked, him fucking you over the bathroom counter. And then, despite himself, he bade you goodnight.

Anyway. Secondo knows exactly which door to stop in front of. He gives a sharp knock, and waits for a response. And waits. And- well, he’s waited a respectable twenty-five seconds. Perhaps you’re out. Or perhaps something is wrong?

The thought has barely crossed his mind and his gloved hand is reaching for the door handle. Immediately he catches himself- come on. The Ministry is usually safe, as long as you don’t inadvertently stumble into the path of whatever nonsense the ghouls have going on at any given time. You were fine. Probably. Hm.

It’s a…persistent thought, and it’s gnawing at the back of Secondo’s brain. You haven’t answered the door and it’s been, what, a full minute and a half? He should wait. Or knock again, perhaps. He definitely shouldn’t try the door.

He tries the door. It’s unlocked, and easing it open, Secondo lets himself in. He steps into the room- slightly messy, lived-in, but nothing sets off any alarm bells. It’s dim in here, a lone crack in your curtains allowing a thin stream of afternoon sunlight through and as his gaze pans over to your bed- ah- there you are. Taking a few steps closer, he can see you half-entangled in a thin blanket, curled onto your side, and the steady rise and fall of your chest indicates you’re sound asleep. Hm. Not dead then. Well. At least you’re safe.

And then you stir, spot Secondo towering over you, and bolt upright.

“Fucking hell-”

Now. Objectively, the optics on this one aren’t great. Secondo takes a step back.

“I am incredibly sorry,” he says. “I was worried.”

The words fall from his lips too quickly, too honestly.

“Oh,” you say, doing an impressive job of regulating your breathing. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m up, I was just…napping.”

He regards you- flushed, separating yourself from your blanket, straightening your clothes. You look up at him in earnest. It is a good angle. Seeing you like this, sleepy and dishevelled, in your room amongst all your personal things, he almost feels like he’s crossed a boundary. Secondo clears his throat.

“It is your birthday. You did not tell me,” Secondo says plainly. It isn’t an accusation, but there’s a bite that causes you to lower your eyes from his. There’s something in him that feels…entitled to that information, as unfair as that may be. It isn’t particularly sensitive information. Your friends would know. Acquaintances, even. Has he misread your attention, placed more weight on your interactions than he should have? Set himself up, once more?

No, it’s not your fault. He could have asked. Taking a breath, he tempers his tone.

“To clarify, you did not have to tell me,” he says. “However, I would have liked to have known.”

“To be honest, Papa,” you say, dragging your eyes back up to meet his, “I’m not really in the habit of celebrating my birthday. It’s… I don’t…”

“There does not have to be a reason.”

You give him a small, grateful smile. “Anyway,” you continue, “I didn’t see the point of bringing it up, really. I doubt you’d want to spend the day with me, you’re a busy man.”

Slowly, he steps forwards and takes a seat on the edge of your bed. At once, you manoeuvre yourself closer to him. Instinct. The sight lights a fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Busy indeed. And yet, here I am.”

Slotted neatly and deliberately alongside several particularly dry-looking Luciferian texts on Secondo’s bookshelf, there is a list handwritten on good, weighty paper. It’s Secondo’s gift list. Secondo is a good gift-giver, deriving no end of pleasure from lavishing gifts on those who have earned it. Now, it is a relatively short list- a few friends from his past, senior clergy (mostly out of pure obligation), Siblings who made a particular impression, Terzo’s name crossed out and rewritten multiple times with varying degrees of vitriol. And there at the bottom is your name in neat, thoughtful cursive. If he’d known…

“Why are you here, Papa?”

Your voice snaps him back to the present. You’re leaning forwards, towards him. Meeting his eyes, the way he likes.

This is the dance, isn’t it? The precipice? The leading question leading to his mouth on yours? He wants to dance with you. But he has to ensure you’re a willing partner.

“I want to do something for you,” he says, reaching out with one gloved hand to ghost your cheek with his fingers. You lean into his touch. Good. “A gift.”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” you say.

“I want to do something for you,” he reiterates. “I can scarcely believe I am saying this, but I will permit you to use my bath.”

“Oh,” you say, eyes widening. “I was joking the other week, I didn’t actually expect- but yes, that would be lovely.”

Secondo lets his fingers trail downwards, tracing your jaw gently. If not for his gloves he’d be able to feel the warmth of you.

“On my terms,” he continues. “I am going to be very direct with you, so listen.”

“I’m listening, Papa.”

So attentive.

“In one hour, you are going to come to my quarters. You are going to knock. If you knock twice, I will let you in, and then I will leave you to the bath I have drawn for you. Take your time. But not too much time, hm? I will give you two hours, and then I want my bathroom back, yes?” You nod your assent. He fixes you with a firm, deliberate gaze.

“Now. Pay attention. If you knock three times, I will let you in, I will bathe you, and then I am going to fuck you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, half-breathless. You’ve been waiting, haven’t you? Secondo can feel it, the change in the air that accompanies the sprawl of new possibilities running through your mind.

“Think about it,” he says. “One hour.”

Swiftly, he stands, gives you a curt nod and turns to leave.

“Wait,” you call after him. He turns back to you, despite feeling the sting of an impactful exit cut short.

“Hm?”

“I thought you weren’t interested,” you confess.

Ah. There it is, the consequence of his reluctance to spoil a good thing. Or, more accurately, his idea of a good thing, and the terrifying thought that the reality might be very different. So yes, if he’s honest, he’s been ignoring your glances and missing opportunities to invite you to bed. But there’s only so long the inevitable can be delayed. There’s a thrum inside him when you’re within arm's reach that’s impossible to resist and, well, when Lucifer gives you a hint you should take it.

“No.” Secondo reaches down, thumb brushing your lip. He wants his fingers in your mouth. “I am interested. Perhaps too much.”

And then he leaves you.

You’re about three minutes early. Secondo heard your approach, deliberate steps on the stone floor, and then…silence. He supposes you’re waiting for the hour to be up proper, lest you look too…eager? That is, assuming, you would be taking him up on his offer of some personal attention. Now, he’s ready for you to take the solitary option, if that’s what you want. It’s fine. It’s alright. There’s certainly no pang that cuts through his chest when he thinks about the possibility of you not reciprocating his desire. Although, he thinks, taking stock of himself in the mirror, it would be a bit of a waste.

He’s shed his robe in lieu of a fitted black-button down shirt, sleeves half-rolled. Black trousers and dress shoes. Unassuming, timeless. But he’s touched up his paint; it’s the face he knows you like. Not too bad for an old man. He glances at the clock- ah. It’s time. He watches the door, waiting for you to announce yourself.

You knock. Once. Twice. And then again. Secondo opens the door. The nerves emanating from you are palpable but, regardless, you give him a smile and Secondo can feel his heart beating in his throat. You’re matching him in black, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander over you, searching, looking for points of access. But before that-

“Come with me,” he says, holding out his hand, sparing you the agony of filling the silence. You slip your hand into his and he leads you into the room, towards the bathroom, noting your gaze roaming to take in your surroundings before your eyes settle on the bed. Later. Secondo pulls you gently through the next doorway and into his bathroom. The secret one.

It’s a nice bathroom, if he says so himself. All Italian marble and gold furnishings, but in a way that he tells himself is on the right side of the tasteful/tacky border. There are a few plants, gifts from Primo, that he’s doing his best to keep alive, and in the centre of the room, the star of the show, an excessively large marble bathtub. Prior to your arrival, he’d spent a good forty minutes here, setting the scene, because if Secondo is anything, he is a good host. And when he commits, he commits. So you arrive to find the room lit by candlelight, bath full and waiting for you, a tiny wireless radio tuned to a station playing soft instrumentals. It’s worth the effort- when you look at him, half-awestruck, he realises he’s been holding his breath. Tightening his grip on your hand, he leads you further into the room.

“I can see why you want to keep this to yourself,” you say, running your fingers along the edge of the bath. Secondo hums.

“You understand. I do not wish for this to become common knowledge, yes? Let it be our secret.”

“Of course,” you say. There’s a pause, and you appear to be at a bit of a loss at what to say next. Secondo is happy to lead.

“Do you wish to begin?”

“Yes,” you say, leaning against the edge of the bath. “What should I…”

“Undress for me,” he says, low and steady.

You nod, setting to work on your buttons, lowering your gaze. You work slowly, and after a moment, pause.

“Sorry, I’m a bit self-conscious,” you confess. Secondo closes the distance between you, tipping your jaw up with one hand so you meet his eyes.

“I do not want you to be uncomfortable. May I help?”

“Yes.”

Gently, his hands run down your shoulders, your arms, before he locates the fastenings of your clothes and works them undone. He strips you with practised ease, touching you only enough to help you shed your garments, his face serious, focused. When he catches your eye you’re regarding him with a quiet bemusement. He’s seen it before. You’re wondering why he’s not fondling you, kissing you. But Secondo has his rituals. His rules. If he touches you now you’ll never make it to the bath and all of his preparation will be for naught. He helps you shift your underwear down your legs. Satanas-

There you are, gorgeous and exposed, every inch, for him. Secondo’s cock aches against his trousers and the simmer of desire in the pit of his stomach is threatening to overspill. You reach out to touch his cheek, fingers grazing his skin.

Actually, fuck the rituals. Slipping his arms around your waist, he pulls you to his chest and kisses you. You sink into him, mouth opening to accept his tongue, soft moan escaping you. He feels your hands meet at the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Even through his clothes he can feel your heat, your want, and he kisses you hungrily, tongue moving against yours in lascivious rhythm.

When he’s sated, he pulls back. You’re flushed, breaths heavy, pressed so tightly against him his cock must surely be digging uncomfortably into you. Well, you don’t seem to be complaining. Secondo allows himself to press another kiss to your lips.

“You are quite the distraction,” he says, taking your hand. “Now get in the bath.”

Biting your lip and doing a poor job of disguising your smile, you let him help you into the bath. As you relax into the water, you let out a deep sigh, allowing your head to rest back against the marble. Secondo can’t take his eyes off you, and is doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact. He is content for now, perched at the edge of the bath, watching you unwind. After a few moments, you lift your head and eye him suspiciously.

“Yes?” he says.

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Secondo clears his throat. “Ah. I made some enquiries as to your location. One of Terzo’s hangers-on informed me.”

You laugh. “I’ll tell them you said that.”

Secondo wonders if you’ve noticed you’ve dropped the Papa. It doesn’t feel like a purposeful omission, more an indication of…comfort. He doesn’t mind a slip in decorum, not here. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“I feel,” you continue- you’re talkative like this- “as though you should also be… not dressed.”

Secondo cocks his head. “Impatient. You will see more than enough of me soon enough. Although…”

Slowly, under your watchful eye, he makes a show of removing one glove, and then the other. He rests them on the edge of the bath, and reaches for the washcloth and soap he’s set out. It’s a fancy soap Terzo had foisted upon him- with no regard to the fact that he wasn’t a florals person- but Secondo thinks it might be rather pleasing on you.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, shifting to kneel at your side.

You lean up to meet him and he bathes you, thoroughly, tenderly. Again, he’s restraining himself, tempering his desire as he runs his hands over you. He allows himself small pleasures- a kiss pressed to your hand, your shoulder, the inside of your ankle as you manoeuvre to grant him access to your legs. He’s working methodically, but his pace slows as he approaches your inner thighs. There was nothing wrong with lingering there, yes? Your breaths are sharper, anticipant, but he’s not going to touch you where you want to be touched. Not yet. He pulls back and you can’t hide the frustrated grunt that escapes you. Secondo bites down a smile.

“Are you sated?” he says. No, is the answer he wants. You tilt your head.

“In the bath way, yes.”

He looks at you for a long moment. “I see. Then let me attend to your other needs.”

Secondo extends a hand and you waste no time in taking it. Pulling you up, he reaches for a towel and helps you dry off. Without a moment of consideration, he fetches his bathrobe from a hanger and offers it to you. You raise an eyebrow. It’s a nice robe. Stepping out of the bath, you shrug it on and Secondo reaches around you wordlessly to tie the belt.

“This feels more even, hm?” he says. “You are not so exposed?”

“Mm,” you hum, giving him a gentle smile. It’s a smile he wouldn’t mind seeing more often. But- to business. Leading you to the bedroom, he encourages you to take a seat on the edge of his bed, positioning himself next to you.

“Before we begin, let us set some expectations, yes? I want you to enjoy yourself. I also want to fuck every last drop of need out of you, and I want to do it with great enthusiasm. So if you are uncomfortable with anything I am doing you must tell me, and I will stop. Alright?”

You nod. “I will. I would.”

“Good. I enjoy taking the lead. Are you content with that?”

He’s studying you for any signs of hesitation, but he’s finding nothing. Just you, so torturously close and leaning closer, looking especially fuckable in his bathrobe (it’s monogrammed), hanging onto his every word.

“I want you to tell me what to do,” you say plainly. “And I want you to use me however you wish.”

Well. If that wasn’t what he dreamed of hearing. You’re going to be so good for him. Secondo takes your face in his hands, drawing you close.

“Very well. Then permit me to be selfish. I was denied the privilege of seeing you on your knees today.”

Obediently, you slip from the bed and settle on your knees before Secondo. Your hands run up his thighs and his cock twitches. This is the view.

“Watch. Do not touch,” he says, languidly unbuckling his belt and shifting his trousers down to unsheath himself. You’re so close that his cock, slick with precum, grazes your cheek. You’re watching him with a quiet desperation, but you remain still.

“Open your mouth,” he says, gripping the base of his shaft to guide it towards you as you obey. He locks eyes with you. And then he pushes his cock into your mouth.

You’re devout at his altar, accepting him as far down your throat as you can manage, lips tight around him. He groans, bucking up into you, your hot, wet mouth sending his desire into the stratosphere. You look so good sucking him off, making the most obscene sounds as you fuck him with your mouth. Pulling back, you grasp his shaft and begin to work him manually, tongue painting eager strokes along his cock. Fucking hell, you have been waiting for this. You’re so impatient, so obedient, you’re taking more of him than you can handle, tears pricking at your eyes, fuck, you’re so good, so-

He pulls out of your mouth and you whine at the loss of him, breathless, face thoroughly fucked.

“Forgive me,” Secondo says, catching his breath. “I want you to come first.”

Taking your hands, he stands, pulling you up onto your feet. Swiftly, his fingers untie the bathrobe and he pushes it from your shoulders, laying you bare once again before him. He kisses a trail down your exposed neck, sighing deeply when he comes to rest at your collarbone.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, drawing back to look you in the eyes.

“Please,” you say, voice tinged with need.

“On the bed,” he says, and you scramble onto the bed, watching him as he steps out of his trousers and lowers himself over you, bracing himself on his forearms. Secondo kisses you again. It’s deeper than he’d usually permit, needy, insistent. You wrap your legs around him and he can feel your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt; he gladly helps you discard it. Finally, there’s nothing between you, his chest pressed against yours; Secondo swears he can feel your heartbeat but it may be his own hammering in his chest. He’s aching to be inside you. He needs friction. His cock is leaking precum onto your belly.

Secondo draws back onto his knees, hands spreading your legs, sliding down your thighs. With one hand he slicks his fingers with his own precum, and then guides them to your entrance, pressing against the flesh. You stifle a moan. Hmm, that won’t do. Gently, he pushes a finger into you, eliciting a desperate groan. That’s more like it. Once he’s satisfied you can take it, he adds another finger, working you open, warming you up. You’re a mess underneath him, swearing, rutting up into his fingers. “Please,” you manage. Well, since you asked so nicely. You’ve waited long enough.

Cock in hand, Secondo steadies your legs and slowly, deliberately, presses into you.

“Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting the pillow. Fuck, indeed. You’re so tight around him, such a good, eager hole. At first, he fucks into you lazily, hips rolling against yours in measured, practiced rhythm, but Lucifer he’s been wating for this for so long and you’re squeezing his cock so perfectly and soon he’s taking you, right to the hilt in messy, animalistic strokes. His fingers are digging into your thighs and you’re an absolute state underneath him, hands twisting into the duvet as Secondo fucks you senseless.

“Touch yourself,” he growls. You nod weakly, begin to work yourself. It’s not going to take much, you’re twitching around him already. He’s going to ruin you. He tries to settle into a more regular tempo, but he can’t hold it for long.

“I’m going to come,” you say, breathless.

“Come for me,” he orders, cock pulsing, desperate for release. It’s a good thing you’re close because there’s no chance he’ll last.

“Papa-” and then he feels you tighten around him, gasping as you come, breath ragged. He fucks you through your orgasm before chasing his own release, hips snapping hard against yours as he finishes inside you, pumps you full.

Shakily, he withdraws from you, and sinks down next to you on the bed. He takes your hand and places it on his chest so you can feel his heart thundering.

“Should I go?” you say quietly.

Secondo lifts his head. You’ve heard the routine, then. That he gently encourages his lovers not to get too comfortable after the act. That you shouldn’t expect to stay until morning. And you came anyway. He lets his head drop onto your shoulder.

“No,” he says. “Stay.” “Hmm,” he hears you muse. “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me again? It is my birthday.”

He lifts his head, propping himself up on his side to look at you. It’s not such a bad sight, you tangled in his sheets. He wouldn’t mind making a habit of it. And if he’s setting himself up for a fall, well. Perhaps some things are worth falling for.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii #secondo #secondo x reader #the band ghost fanfic

518 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 47 minutes

Text

Little Thief

Secondo x Female Reader

A little yeehaw!Secondo story for my dearest friendo @kissingghouls. Happy Birthday to my favorite haunted painting! I hope you have the most amazing day because you deserve only amazing things 💙 (special thank you to @tasty-ribz for the perfect Secondo art)

Warnings: gun violence, smut, nsfw 18+ only, mdni, 5,700 words, this does have a connection to The Cardinal's Bride universe but you can enjoy this just fine on its own! (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

Coming here was a mistake.

You jumped over the bar as the bullets started flying, ducking down and throwing an arm over your head when the liquor bottles began shattering above you. The Ministry was a big mark, way bigger than you had ever hit before, and you knew, you knew that it was going to be risky. You just hadn’t expected this to happen. Although at least the gunfight wasn’t your fault.

This time.

A body crashed down next to you, lifeless and still. With a grunt you turned it over to search for their gun. It was still in its holster so you yanked it out, pausing to shove your hand into their back pocket and take their wallet too. It’s not like they were gonna need either anyway. You rolled onto your knees, carefully putting your hands at the edge of the bartop to take a peek over.

“Well, shit.”

Chaos was still reigning over the casino floor but fortunately now it was mostly fist fights. The Ghouls that worked here had made quick work of most of those that had started shooting. You could see a small pile of bodies forming already. The two big Ghouls that were working the door that night easily lugging the men around. They were distracted enough you glanced towards the door, knowing that you needed to get out of there soon. Especially before any deputies arrived.

Lowering yourself back down you started crawling towards the door, keeping behind the bar and trying to avoid the broken glass. Tonight had been such a damn waste. You should have just skipped the town altogether. This is what happened when you got cocky but damn, you had gotten tired of doing small jobs. Stealing from a big casino, from The Ministry of all places, would have been perfect. And it would have given you enough money to have a little breathing room before your next job.

Oh well, you had gotten a decent enough amount from cheating at cards. It was enough to get you a room in the next town over for a few weeks at least. You reached the end of the bar and started to pull yourself up for one last look. Unfortunately you weren’t met with a view of the casino floor like you expected. Instead you ended up face to face with the man that ran The Ministry, a man you had heard enough about to know you should avoid him at all costs.

“Going somewhere?” Secondo’s tone was bored, his eyes raking over you briefly before he turned his attention to the glass of whiskey in his hand. “That’s a shame, I was hoping you’d stay a little longer.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

You knew you should’ve just kept your mouth shut and made a run for the door. The Ghouls were still occupied enough sorting through who needed to be kicked or carried out that you doubted any of them would try to stop you. The chance of this man trying to stop you though had you frozen in place.

“I was curious how much more of my money you would steal.”

Fuck. You glanced towards the door but Secondo was smirking when you looked back so you stayed put. There was no way you’d make it now. He might be surrounded by his Ghouls but you’d heard enough stories about Papa Secondo to have a healthy amount of fear of him. Enough to realize you definitely shouldn’t have come here. You took a fortifying breath and squared your shoulders while you stared him down.

Time to see if you could talk yourself out of trouble.

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“Come now, I’m not an idiot.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing, “And despite you thinking you could get away with stealing from me I don’t think you’re one either.”

“A compliment from Papa? Sounds like something I should brag about.” When those odd eyes of his flashed to yours you reached out and grabbed the drink from his hands, knocking back a mouthful before setting it down. “Kind of like how I’d brag about stealing from you. You know, if I had done that.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve been watching you most of the night.” His voice had dropped an octave and he’d turned to give you his full attention. “Ever since my associate Mist told me what you were up to.”

“Mist?”

“She’s at the end of the bar now. Watching.” You looked down to see a woman with piercing blue eyes leaning against the bar. When you turned back to Secondo he had leaned in close and his breath danced across your cheek with his next words. “She thinks you will do something stupid.”

“The only stupid thing I did tonight was come here.” He narrowed his eyes at your comment but you continued anyway, “Your games are terrible and this whiskey is mostly water.”

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting him to do at your insults. Threaten you maybe. At worst try to grab you and then who knows what. Mist certainly seemed the type to do whatever her boss told her to do. But all Secondo did was laugh, the sound drew the attention of some of the other Ghouls but they got back to cleaning quickly.

“Ma dài, bellezza? Sei una terribile bugiarda.”

“What did you call me?” Secondo’s only answer was to let his eyes wander over you again before taking another drink. “Answer me.”

“A terrible liar.” His smirk returned when he saw your face turning red. “But I suppose I could also call you a terrible thief.”

“A lot of words just to call me a liar.”

“Unfortunately the other ones will cost you.”

Secondo stepped around the end of the bar to stand beside you. To have him so close was…intoxicating was the only word you could think of. Despite the danger he posed you there was no denying that he was an extremely handsome man. His presence alone commanded attention, respect and a healthy dose of fear if you had wronged him. But your heart wasn’t racing just because you had a pocketful of money you’d stolen from him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to give you.” You teasingly patted the sides of your jacket, taking a moment to flash it open so he could see the gun holstered at your hip. “So how about we call it a night before anything else happens.”

“What could happen?” He reached over to one of the few unbroken bottles along the wall and poured himself another drink. “Would you continue to cheat at cards?”

“I didn’t fucking cheat.”

“Or perhaps there’s a pair of loaded dice hidden in a pocket somewhere.” Secondo took a step closer, pinning you against the bar. “Would you let me look, ladruncola?”

It irritated you how badly you wanted to say ‘yes’ but honestly the longer he looked at you like that the more you wanted him to. Up close he smelled so good, he looked good too. His clothes were immaculate, down to the green handkerchief peeking out of his vest pocket. There wasn’t any harm in enjoying his company for the evening, right?

Especially if it got you out of trouble.

“As long as you search me in your room and not at the bar.” You found yourself returning his pleased smile but a flash of something reflecting in the glass of the bottle behind him had your chest seizing. One hand went for your gun while your other grabbed ahold of Secondo’s vest and you shoved him to the side with all your might. “Get down!”

Secondo cursed as the bottle shattered and you ducked to the side as you turned with your gun raised. A few tables from the bar one of the men that started the fight was standing with his own gun pointed your way. Secondo’s way. He snarled and moved to point it at you but he was too late, you let out two shots that hit him in the chest and had his body jerking backwards. The nearest Ghoul kicked the gun out of his hand but you knew he wouldn’t be getting up from that.

“Well, well.” You turned to look down at Secondo, relieved to see him unhurt but also smirking at you. Even if it was infuriating. “Grazie, ladruncola.”

“What does that mean?” Secondo took your offered hand, rising from the floor elegantly. He nodded towards Mist when she wandered over and she quickly turned away to go to the other Ghouls. When you tried to pull your hand back he held it tighter, his thumb sweeping across your knuckles. “I’m waiting.”

“Grazie means ‘thank you’. And I’ll say it again, ladruncola.” He brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the back. The hairs of his mustache tickled your skin softly when he repeated himself. “Grazie.”

“You’re welcome,” Your knuckles received kisses next followed by him turning your hand over to kiss your palm. “But I meant the other word.”

“I’d rather tell you after I get you in my room.”

You sighed, knowing you probably should just leave. After saving him he probably would let you without a fuss too. There was just something about him that had you taking a step closer to straighten the handkerchief in his vest. You rested your hand on his chest and moved it up towards his shoulder while you leaned in close.

“As long as you promise to make it worth my while.” He was grinning when you pulled away, his mismatched eyes twinkling in a way you didn’t think you’d be able to forget. “Papa.”

“That’s a challenge I’m happy to accept.”

“How many weapons do you have?”

Secondo’s voice was equally incredulous and impressed. You gave him a smirk of your own as you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back towards his bed. He went willingly, his eyes dropping down to your hands as you made quick work of pulling the two knives he hadn’t found out of their hiding places.

“I like to be prepared.” When he sat back on the bed you followed, placing a knee on either side of his legs and resting your hands on his shoulders. “Surely you can appreciate that, hmm?”

“I can.” He took your mouth in a dizzying kiss, stealing your breath while his hands began to work on the buttons of your pants. You broke away with a gasp when he slid one hand inside, right in between your legs where you were already hot and wet. He wrapped his other arm around your waist to pull you closer, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth all the way to your ear. “I’ll appreciate all of you tonight.”

“I think I can promise the same.” You trailed your hands down to the buttons of his vest, going for his shirt buttons when you were done. His chest was covered with dark hair, patches of silver mixed in. He nearly purred like a cat when you ran your fingers through it. While you explored his chest his own hands began to wander but you were too distracted to stop him from slipping his fingers into the hidden pocket in your shirt. “Wait!”

He pulled away, your loaded dice held triumphantly in his hand. You had a sudden jolt of fear that perhaps this was all a game to him and he only brought you up here to expose why you were even at The Ministry. Neither of you were moving, your eyes stuck on his face while he began to roll the dice between his thumb and forefinger.

“These are certainly interesting, aren’t they?” He made a loose fist and shook them, his eyes moving to your face while they rattled around. There wasn’t any anger there, if anything he seemed amused but you still couldn’t bring yourself to move. With a quick movement he flicked the dice on the floor, not looking away as they landed. “Tell me what numbers came up.”

You looked down, your legs starting to shake from where they still straddled him and your heart racing. He placed both his hands on your waist while you leaned over as far as you dared, trying to make a show of looking even though you knew what numbers would be facing up. He did too, the bastard.

“Lucky you, a pair of sixes.”

He smirked, tugging you towards him again abruptly. You fell against his chest with a grunt, your mouth hovering right over his. He flashed you a smile before responding, his words making your heart race for an entirely different reason.

“Lucky me indeed.” His eyes were locked on yours for a few heartbeats before he glanced down at your lips. “If you would like to leave I wouldn’t stop you.” He moved so his lips were hovering over your ear. “But I keep the money and the dice.”

“I don’t know, I feel like I won that money fair and square.” His chest rumbled with laughter, his hands tightening around your waist. “And I don’t want to leave.”

“Bene. Because I have been wanting to kiss you ever since you insulted my whiskey.”

A retort was on the tip of your tongue, it did taste like it was watered down, but talking was impossible when he kissed you. It was as demanding as the man itself. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck while one of his hands gripped your head, tilting it just so to make the angle perfect. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, the combination intoxicating.

The need to feel more of him became too much, your hands pushing and pulling at his shirt and vest to get it off. With a quick movement he spun you so you were on your back on his bed, staring up at him while he took them off himself. Your eyes moved over his chest appreciatively, enjoying how the muscles of his arms moved under his skin. It was obvious he had done more than run a casino in his life. Those muscles were evidence of years working with guns and horses.

“See something you like?”

“Take the pants off and I’ll let you know.” His sudden laughter had you smiling and you lifted a foot up to rest on his thigh. “Unless you want my help?”

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you the opportunity.”

In a flash you were kneeling before him on the bed, your fingers eagerly working on the fastenings of his pants. His gun belt was already on the floor next to yours and your small pile of knives. It had surprised you he didn’t want a weapon close but you also had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t need any sort of weapon to take care of you if necessary. The thought should scare you, being here in his room should scare you, but all you could think of was how he was making your blood race through your veins.

And how the sight of his cock was making your mouth water.

Thick and long, it jutted out from the patch of hair between his legs proudly. There was already a drop of liquid at the tip and you leaned in to lick it off, grinning when it twitched. You locked eyes with him as you wrapped your lips around the tip, applying pressure along the bottom with your tongue. You began to move further down but he rested his hands on the side of your head, stopping your momentum.

“Ah ah, I have a different plan.” You pulled back, licking your lips and watching him as he smiled down at you. “Would you let me taste you, ladruncola?”

“If you insist.”

The visual of Secondo dropping to his knees in front of you wasn’t one you would forget any time soon. His fingers were steady as they undid your clothes, far steadier than yours were right now. All you had the strength to do was watch, watch as he exposed more and more of you to his strange eyes. It felt a little unfair for him to still be wearing his pants as he pulled off yours but as he looked at your core you couldn’t find the words to say anything about it.

“Bellissima.” You had no idea what it meant but the word, the worshipful way he said it made your cheeks heat up. He laid his hands on the inside of your thighs and gently push them wider. As his face got closer to where you were wet for him you could see his nose twitch as he took deep breaths and you were not going to survive this. Secondo closed his eyes and you saw his lips moving briefly before he caught your gaze. “Nema.”

His mouth covered you in the next moment, his hands moving behind you to grip your ass and hold you still. It was a good thing he did because while he licked and sucked at your flesh you were twitching and shaking. The sensations were overwhelming and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to be closer or get away from it. His nose pressed insistently against your clit while he worked his tongue around your opening, flicking and swiping it over and over. When he suddenly pushed it inside you couldn’t help but cry out, your hand letting go of the blanket in its grip and instead gripping his hair.

“Secondo, f-fu–ah!”

The man growled against you, gripping you tighter while he ate you out. Words kept bubbling in your throat but they just turned into whimpers. You weren’t even sure what you were trying to say, perhaps your own words of worship to the man himself. The rumors you had always heard about the man and his family briefly flashed in your mind. Images of the devil and upside down crosses but they were banished as soon as he slid two thick fingers into you and moved his mouth to your clit.

If this was how they worshipped the devil you’d sign up in a second.

Your peak was coming fast, wave after wave of pleasure making spots appear in your vision. Secondo didn’t let up, he just fucked you faster with his fingers. Two soon becoming three all while he sucked on your clit. Your nails kept digging harder and harder into his scalp but it didn’t seem to phase him. If anything it only spurred him on and when he curled his fingers to rub against your inner walls you felt yourself fall over a cliff, your orgasm rushing to meet you at the bottom.

“Are you awake?” You had no idea how long you had been laying there panting but his deep voice finally dragged you back from where you’d been drifting. You blinked up at him, grinning when you saw how out of sorts his mustache was. “Something amuse you?”

“I should steal from casinos more often.” Making this man laugh was like a drug and you did your best to commit the sight and sound to memory. It wasn’t just his mustache that was a mess, his hair was tussled and twisted from your fingers too. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up and smoothing it out, smiling softly when his eyes closed and he pressed into your hands. “You’re like a cat.”

“Un gatto?” He raised an eyebrow when you grinned. “I’ve had worse nicknames.”

“Oh? Like Papa?”

“Papa was a title, my title. Long ago.” You continued to rub along his scalp, waiting to see if he said anything else. “I went by a different one before that, before I was called back to my family.”

“What were you doing then?”

Secondo flashed you a small smile as began to pat your legs, nodding his head towards the headboard. You obediently scooted back, not being able to stop your eyes from falling to his cock. It had softened a bit but still looked eager for attention. He followed you further onto the bed, rubbing his hands up your legs until they were encouraging your thighs apart once more.

“About the same thing you’re doing now.” When you raised an eyebrow and gave him a once over he chuckled. “The same thing you were doing earlier. Stealing.”

“I wasn–”

“But I was much, much better at it, ladruncola.”

“Either fuck me or shut up.”

He smirked as he looked down at you, one hand going to his cock and beginning to stroke it. You wiggled a bit under the attention, the tension building in you again just by watching him pleasure himself. Well, two could play at that game. With a smirk of your own you began to touch yourself, sliding your fingers down your wet flesh and easily pressing two inside.

His eyes quickly locked onto your fingers, watching intensely as you moved them in and out. You added a third finger but it wasn’t even close to how it felt with his in you. With a frustrated growl you said his name and he immediately looked back up to your face. There was an unreadable look there, one you hadn’t seen yet that night. For a moment you were worried he was going to move away and tell you to leave but instead he finally moved closer. He grabbed your hand and tugged it away so he could line his cock up.

“Bone Daddy.” Your eyes flashed up to his to see him grinning. “That’s what they called me.”

You repeated the name, trying it out on your tongue. While he teased your opening with the head of his cock you thought back to those rumors you had heard of the Emeritus family. An image of Secondo with a painted face resembling a skull flashed in your mind and your gasp had little to do with how his cock was beginning to stretch you. He could be terrifying now you could barely comprehend how terrifying he would have been looking like that.

Terrifying and beautiful.

When he was all the way inside of you the name tumbled from your lips again. You took a moment to trace your finger along his face, trying to imagine what the design of the paint looked like. He let you go on for a few seconds before taking your hand in his and pressing it down next to your head. If he hadn’t of been looking at you like he was, like you were something he cared about, you would have been concerned you overstepped. Instead he lowered his head to kiss you, nipping at your lips until you opened up for his tongue.

You kissed him back, trying to match his intensity but you were getting desperate for him to move elsewhere. He groaned into your mouth when you wrapped your legs around his waist and wiggled your hips. After what felt like an eternity he finally pulled back, his lips as swollen as yours were. You felt like you were going to lose your mind if he didn’t move, if he didn’t start fucking you right now.

“Secondo, please.”

“Ah, ladruncola. You don’t need to beg. I’ll take care of you.” You bit your lip as he began to pull out, the drag of his thick length so good along your walls. He paused with the head at your entrance and you were so close to screaming at him, especially when he looked down at you smugly. “We’ll save the begging for later, eh?”

“Whatever you say Bone Daddy.”

You expected a response, another comment to continue your banter but instead he began to press back inside of you. It was a slow and steady thrust, not giving you a moment to adjust as he pushed in all the way. Your hands were scrabbling at the sheets by your head and your body trembled. When your groins touched he didn’t pause, he just started to pull out immediately.

Secondo quickly had a rhythm going, a steady drive in and out of you with his cock. All you could do was hang on, your legs still wrapped around him. The bed creaked beneath you both, the headboard hitting the wall when he began to thrust harder. He dropped down so he could kiss you, mimicking the movements of his cock with his tongue. You bit and sucked at it, one of your hands letting go of the sheet to find its way back into his hair.

Both of you were moaning, gasping as the pleasure began to build. You had to pull away from his mouth to suck in air and you buried your face in his neck while you did so. He kissed along your scalp while one of his big hands cradled the back of your head. It all suddenly felt so intimate, so much more than what it had started out as that you couldn’t help but imagine more of this. More than a night and more than a frenzied coupling.

“Look at me, ladruncola.” His fingers tightened just enough to get you to pull away, your head falling back onto the pillow. His thrusts were more sure now, purposeful. He slipped a hand down your body to touch you between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it just right. “I want to watch you. I want to see your face.”

Fuck, it was too much but you couldn’t deny him. You clung to him and panted as you hit your peak once again, your walls spasming around him. He was the first to break eye contact, groaning and muttering in Italian when his cock began to kick and empty inside of you. For a moment you imagined that you could feel it, feel his seed fill you up. Your hips moved on their own accord then, rotating slightly to help him as he came down until he finally stopped and collapsed on top of you.

You weren’t sure if it had been minutes or hours but his weight was a comforting thing and you didn’t have any desire to move. His softened cock had fallen out of you and while the feeling of his seed leaving was uncomfortable you hoped that he would take you again before the morning arrived. You had no desire to leave this room. The only thing you wanted was Secondo and you’d take as much of him as he was willing to give you.

With a grunt he finally pulled away, rolling onto his back next to you. The cool night air drifted in through an open window across the room and distantly you could hear the tinkling keys of a piano. You risked a glance over at him, letting your eyes linger when you saw his were closed. The skull paint appeared in your mind again and you resolved to ask him later what it looked like.

“Would you like some watered down whiskey?”

You snorted, nodding when he cracked open an eye to look at you. He got up with a grunt and made his way over to a small bar against the wall. When he headed back with two glasses in his hand you sat up and leaned back against the headboard. The whiskey burned your tongue but it was good, much better than what you had at his bar.

“So you save the good stuff for yourself.”

“And you.” He tilted his head back and drained the rest of his glass, looking pleased when you did the same. With the ease of a cat he got up and refilled them, grabbing something else before he made his way back over. “I was hoping you would indulge me.”

“Haven’t I already been doing that?”

“Indeed, but I was hoping I could interest you in a game of poker.” He placed his glass on a small table by the bed and you then noticed the item in his hand was a deck of cards. They came to life in his hands as he began to shuffle them, doing moves and tricks that were impossible for your eyes to keep up with. “Perhaps you’d like to make it interesting.”

“I’m listening.”

Secondo began to deal the cards out and you leaned over to set your glass next to his so you could gather yours up.

“I would like an opportunity to win my money back.” Your eyes flashed up to his in alarm but his expression hadn’t changed. He had the same amused and almost fond look that he’d had since he had brought you into his room. You looked back down at your cards and started to shuffle them slowly. “But of course if I lose you stand to earn even more. Except fairly this time.”

“I can play fair but you’re going to regret it.”

“Oh I don’t think so. Either way I’ll still have you in my bed. Won’t I, ladruncola?”

“You haven’t told me what that means yet. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“Another thing you can win then. I will translate that and more if you beat me.”

“Prepare to lose, Papa.”

Secondo laughed before taking a drink and then leaning in to kiss you. The whiskey was fresh on his tongue and you sucked at it to get a better taste. While the kiss deepened you thought about everything that had led you to this man’s bed. About getting caught up in a gun fight and then getting caught by Secondo himself.

You thought about seeing that man raise his gun and how you hadn’t even blinked before shoving Secondo out of the way. You thought of his presence and his words, how he had gotten you into his room even though he didn’t have to try very hard. It was easy to imagine this man holding the attention of a congregation if those rumors were true. You’d certainly follow him to more than just his bedroom.

When he pulled away you couldn’t help but pout and he nipped at your bottom lip before leaning back again. He picked up his cards but his gaze was steady on you, those green and white eyes unwavering. You began to fidget, shuffling your cards in slightly unsteady hands before you couldn’t take it any more.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ll be losing at all tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

He reached out for your hand, bringing it to his mouth, cards and all. Gentle kisses were pressed over your knuckles before he let go.

“Either way I’m winning you, aren’t I?”

You had to bite your lips to stop yourself from saying something stupid. Something stupid and sappy that you had no right to say. But Secondo continued to watch you and his face was content, like he didn’t have a care in the world and just wanted to enjoy his time with you. It was a feeling you shared so you stopped trying to hide it and let it show on your face.

“Me too.”

“Bene. Well then, I’ll let you go first.”

As the game began and went on you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun. Obviously the sex had been amazing and you hoped there would be more of it soon but spending time with Secondo like this felt amazing too. You were able to draw some more stories out of him and in exchange you told him a few of yours. Both of you showed off some scars and the actions that led to them.

You got a description of what Bone Daddy looked like, skull paint and all. He told you about the church he and his Ghouls belonged to. Used to belong to. There was definitely more of a story there but you weren’t going to press it. As a thank you for him sharing something you could tell still pained him you shared a story that still pained you. At that point the card game was forgotten, the cards falling to the floor when you both met in a heated kiss.

Later, as you both caught your breath, your skin sticky with sweat and other things, you felt something press against your back. With a grunt you raised yourself on an elbow and reached a hand into the sheets to find the culprit. You came back with a handful of cards and as you leaned over Secondo to toss them with the others on the floor you noticed something that had you freeze.

There were two ace of spades.

Secondo was laughing when you turned to glare at him, easily bringing a hand up to block the cards when you threw them his way. You wanted to make a bigger deal of it but the problem was you recognized them as your own cards. The bastard had grabbed your deck although when he slipped it out of your coat you had no idea. He wrapped an arm around your waist and began to tug you close, chuckling when you let him with minimal protest.

“That’s quite the deck you have.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t finish the game I think I had the hand to beat.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Ah, ladruncola. Don’t be upset with me.”

“Tell me what ‘ladruncola’ means.” When he didn’t speak you turned in his arms to stare him down. “Tell me.”

“Little thief.” He was kissing you again before you were able to curse at him. It was really unfair how his kisses made you lose track of yourself. It ended far too soon but he stayed close, tilting his head down so your foreheads rested together. “But you’re my little thief, aren’t you?”

You kissed him again in answer, opening your mouth over his while you moved to straddle his lap. There were certainly worse things he could call you. And there were certainly worse things that could be happening right now. This was infinitely better than spending the night in jail and if you were honest with yourself this was one of the best nights of your life.

You’d be his ladruncola as long as he would have you.

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