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writingjourney · 2 years ago

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Unprecedented | Secondo x gn!Reader

Or: The four times you almost get Secondo to admit his feelings for you and the one time you succeed.

Summary: Working with Secondo is only half as bad as people make it seem – at least until you fall in love with each other.

Content: 12.7k words, gn!reader, pining, sexual tension/suggestive language, food mention, blood/minor injury, forced proximity, soft secondo, terzo being a menace, smut-ish in part four but definite smut in part five (thigh riding, unprotected sex, penetration, dom/sub dynamics), 18+ MDNI

thank you for being patient with me, this is my first time writing Secondo, so pls go easy on me ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 Voluntary Abstinence

The air gets colder by a few degrees as you take the last few narrow steps down the winding staircase into the basement. Burnt-down candles are illuminating the hallway from small alcoves, wax dripping down the weathered stone, their light flickering off the dark brick walls. Amongst these dancing shadows you make your way to the door at the other end of the hall. It’s made of iron, heavy and airtight, the rooms beyond kept on very specific temperature and humidity levels to preserve the precious items they’re protecting.

You push it open and find yourself in a small antechamber that leads into three different rooms – a tiny office, the restoration workshop and a small storage room. Entering this area always feels like stepping foot inside a secret laboratory, though it looks far less sterile with all the shelves of old tomes, paintings and other cursed as well as non-cursed artefacts.

“Papa?” you whisper upon closing the door.

“Office,” a steady voice calls back.

You find Papa Emeritus II bent over the desk, sorting through papers. He’s wearing his narrow reading glasses, the paint by his ears slightly smudged while his outfit remains pristine. Black slacks, a black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up casually, his usual black leather gloves switched for white cotton ones to avoid fingerprints and sweat stains.

He’s hard at work, has been for most of the morning, trying to save a rare first edition of Nietzsche’s Der Antichrist. He lets you observe him from time to time, ever since you expressed your genuine interest in his restoration work. His book-binding fascinates you the most so whenever an interesting project emerges, he lets you know and you get as much time off from your regular clergy duties as possible in order to learn from him. Lucky for you, Sister has no issue excusing you from time to time to help Papa down here. Not many Siblings have the patience or steady hands to work on these intricate projects and even less want to work with Secondo at all, if only for his understandably high standards when it comes to handling fragile artefacts.

“How is it going, Papa?” you ask casually.

“I am taking some time to document the process and sort through these,” he says. “My hands are a little too shaky for bookbinding right now.”

When you don’t reply, he finally looks up at you. His eyes appear bigger behind the glasses but he quickly takes them off, the marks now imprinted on his nose making you smile. Only the smile quickly vanishes when you take in his tired eyes. Even under the black make-up he looks exhausted, sleep-deprived and almost hungover, though you know he wouldn’t drink in the middle of a project like this. So there has to be a different cause.

Secondo, meanwhile, takes you in as well. You’re wearing the tight habit that hugs your body in all the right places today and he’s very pleased with that. Perhaps by now you’re aware it’s his favorite, he knows you’re observant like that, such a smart, sharp-witted thing you are. He’s trying very hard not to stare but you’re too busy worrying to notice.

“Are you feeling alright, Papa? You look… ugh.” You’re clearly trying to find a polite way to put it and it amuses him greatly. Even now you hesitate to speak your mind around him. “I mean, you seem like you’re in need of some rest.”

“Yes, sleep was not a priority last night.” He smirks to himself at the memory, he can still feel it in his sore muscles as well. “So you will have to excuse me looking a bit tired today, Sibling.”

Your lips press together into a thin line. “Oh. Of course.”

Secondo does not miss the hurt that’s flickering over your face. Once, he might have, but by now he’s seen this look so many times that he can catch it in milliseconds. The guilt he feels upon glimpsing it is the main reason he established certain rules in the first place. As a man with many lovers, Secondo had to find ways to stop anyone from developing any actual feelings for him that he cannot reciprocate. Most of the time, this isn’t a real issue, the intentions are clear, people seek adventures, a like-minded lover who can satisfy them in ways that others can’t. But from time to time expectations change, feelings get in the way and it’s so very human but very bothersome at the same time. Secondo has no desire to toy with anyone, so at the first hint of anything that goes beyond lust, he usually calls it quits to avoid inflicting any more pain than necessary.

But there is a key difference here: You’re not his lover.

“Well, I won’t keep you, Papa, I just wanted to see the progress and check in on you. I have to help out with lunch preparations now, but perhaps I can come back later,” you say without meeting his eyes again. “I wish you a productive day nonetheless.”

He wants to stop you and say something, only he’s not sure what there is to say at all. Please, do come back? Don’t leave yet?

It’s only when you’re out the door that he realizes he could have just thanked you.

✦ ✧ ✦

Despite what occurred in his office before lunch, you’re back in the early afternoon hours, presenting him with some painkillers and a cup of black coffee. He can tell by the smell alone that this hasn’t been brewed in the kitchens; you clearly begged Terzo to let you use the fancy coffee machine in his office. It’s always worth it, even if Terzo teases him mercilessly when it comes to you by now, his little assistente, as he calls you.

You don’t comment on your hasty exit from earlier as you set down your cargo on his desk and take a seat on the wooden chair opposite from him. You’re staying for a while, it seems, that’s good. He can use your company after working alone in the basement all day.

Not used to someone taking care of him, Secondo tries not to show how your simple gesture affects him. “Thank you, my dove. This is just what I needed.”

You smile with genuine kindness, the sort of smile that always makes him pause as he feels its paralysing effect on him. “You’re welcome, Papa. Are you feeling any better?”

He smiles and takes a much needed sip of coffee. “Yes, but I think I should take a bit of a break from…” He stops, trying to word it carefully. “… the nightly activities.”

“Oh, really?”

Your eyes bore into his and it’s like you’re begging for the honest answer he simply cannot give you. Secondo knows – he knows of your feelings for him, he knows of your desires, your wishes, your hopes. And he’d be a liar if he claimed not to return them. But right now being a liar seems easier to him than admitting to any of this.

“I am not getting any younger and I can’t have it impacting my work too much,” he states instead, a lame excuse for certain. His stamina is impressive even now and his reputation precedes him. It’s the lack of sleep that’s affecting him more and more, some joint pains maybe, but even that is barely worth mentioning – he can focus when he has to. Satan knows he could have a Sibling or even a ghoul over every single night if he really wanted to.

There is only one reason he doesn’t find proper fulfilment in most of these nightly encounters anymore. And that reason is looking at him with wide and far too hopeful eyes right now.

“I’m sure some people will be very sad to hear that,” you finally say, glancing away.

Not you, no, he thinks.

You shift in your seat, then, and he can’t tell why exactly you’re so nervous all of a sudden. It could be the subject matter. He doesn’t take you for being shy, so maybe it’s because of your very obvious attraction to him, the mere idea that anything could happen between you, implied by the fact he’s telling you about his sex life right now when you’ve been lingering on a safe professional level for months.

Secondo is not in the habit of discussing his private matters with people who aren’t involved, as much as Terzo tries to coax the details out of him over drinks sometimes. He is a private person, discreet, not necessarily secretive but certainly disinterested in any sort of unqualified opinions. But with you he feels safe enough to at least hint at them, if only to see that delicious blush spread across your gentle face.

“Well, I’m not saying that I’ll stay abstinent forever,” he finally says, aware that he’s sending out very mixed signals. “But I think I will be more selective from now on.”

You look at him again and your eyes still shimmer with expectation. He almost hates himself for giving you false hopes. But he can’t help it, you just look so stunning when you’re flustered for him, when your eyes circle in on his bare forearms, his gloves, his lips, your breathing becoming heavier by the second. Arousal suits you, he decides. It takes a lot of restraint to withstand the urge to show you what he could do to you if he just gave in. And this is certainly not the first time the image of fucking you on this very desk pops into his head.

In the end, you don’t comment. It’s something he appreciates a lot about you, the fact that you know when to shut up. And for the rest of the afternoon, while you watch him work on the Nietzsche, standing idly by the side with your eyes glued to his hands, you barely say another word. But you don’t have to – the very telling smile that never leaves your face speaks for itself.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 Papa’s Personal Pasta Day

Wednesday is Pasta Day.

Three different types of pasta, three different types of sauce you get to choose from. It’s the best day of the week, everyone agrees – even Secondo.

And yet your Papa is nowhere to be found today.

It’s not rare for him to skip lunch or avoid the bustle of the dining hall, but you always, without a doubt, catch him here on Wednesdays. As you eat the remainders of your own meal, staring at the empty spot next to his brothers where he usually sits, you wonder what keeps him occupied. You know he finished the Nietzsche but you also know that he recently got another box filled with rare books. So the only real explanation is that he’s even busier with those now.

Which means he’s skipping lunch altogether.

A sudden movement in your peripheral vision. Terzo stands up with his tray, though you can already see two Siblings scurrying towards him, ready to do the job for him. Without thinking too much you gulp down your last bite and hurry after him, asking a friend to dispose of your empty plate, an idea forming in your mind.

You catch him in the hallway as he’s sauntering back to his office, humming a merry tune.

“Papa!” you call out to avoid running after him for another five minutes.

“Hm?” Terzo spins around, smiling in recognition. “Oh. Buongiorno, Sibling. Don’t you look so well today?”

“Thank you, Papa. I was wondering if you can you spare me a moment?”

“Ahh, for you always!” The corners of his mouth curl up into smirk. “I hope you don’t come to complain about my fratello? Because that list is already very long.”

You assure him it’s not a complaint and follow him to his office. Once inside, he casually leans against his desk, folding his hands neatly in front of him as he awaits your plea. A few dots of red pasta sauce stain his right glove but you’re too nervous to point them out to him.

“I have a… a request,” you start, fidgeting under his intense gaze. “It’s unusual and I totally understand if you won’t allow me such a thing. But… can I use your kitchen?”

“My kitchen?” he asks, brows shooting up in surprise. “Whatever would you use my kitchen for?”

You blush profusely as you start to explain. “It’s just… your brother skipped lunch today and you know he’s working so hard on these books right now. He probably forgot to eat again and it will give him another headache in approximately two hours. I would ask to use his kitchen, of course, but then it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore and you know I can’t use the Ministry kitchens because they’re busy in there now cleaning up. And I really don’t want to bring him reheated leftovers.”

Terzo considers this, considers you. “Oh Sibling, you really do like him, eh? What is it that you see in him? He’s a grumpy old man with no sense of humour.”

“He’s not so grumpy when we’re alone,” you offer, even more heat creeping up your neck. “And he can be funny, in a kind of dry, unintentional way.”

“Hmmmm. My coffee machine, my kitchen…” Terzo furrows his brow, the skull paint on his face giving him a slightly menacing look. “What is next? My bedroom?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh no! No, it’s not that kind of… not that kind of thing.”

Terzo chuckles and his features relax, making way for genuine amusement. “No? You want to tell me you don’t fuck down there?”

“N-no…”

“Ah, well, so it is on me to give it a little nudge?” His hand moves up to his chin in mock contemplation as he smiles at you. “Va bene, you can use my kitchen but I have one condition.”

You give him a pleading look, folding your hands in front of your chest. “Whatever you want, Papa, I will gladly do it.”

He smirks again, fishing for his keys before throwing them at you. “I expect some leftovers in the fridge tonight. And they better be good.”

✦ ✧ ✦

Carrying a tray down the narrow steps into the basement is not an easy feat, especially because your mind constantly tries to tell you that this is a bad idea and you forget to watch your steps. In the humidity underground the stone gets especially slippery, just like your situation with Secondo. You’re not quite sure how he’s going to take this. You shouldn’t have made such an effort. This whole idea was born from mere intuition, from that pathetic need to impress him that you always carry around with you.

But you just can’t control that tiny part of you that wants to prove just how perfect you are for him, how well you’d take care of him if he just allowed you to be in his life – no matter how unlikely that is.

You just hope it’s not awful, especially since Terzo is going to eat that big bowl of pasta you left in his fridge. To be fair, his kitchen looked like it had never been used before, so at least you don’t have to worry that you messed up his routine.

You sigh in relief when you see that the lights are on in the workshop. You can hear Secondo in the main room, so you set the tray down in his office, the only area down here where eating is actually allowed, and then knock very carefully to avoid startling him.

“Oh.” His eyes land on you and sets down the book in his hand that already looks mostly finished. “Good morning, Sibling.”

You lift your eyebrows with a smile. “Hello, Papa. Though I’m afraid I have to tell you that it is not quite morning anymore.”

He eyes the clock on the wall above him, exhaling in defeat. “I forgot the time, to be honest. I missed lunch, no?”

You linger near the door, ready to take the plunge. “Well, you did, but… are you hungry by any chance?”

✦ ✧ ✦

Secondo is not quite sure what to expect when you lead him into the office. What he certainly didn’t expect was a tray that resembles the ones used for room-service in the upscale hotels he loves to frequent, cloche and napkin included. He knows you have good taste by being around you so often, but that it is this excellent is news to him. The thought of you choosing this fancy dishware for him is almost enough to make him smile.

“So you brought me lunch?” he asks, though he should not be surprised by your efforts. You’re always attentive, you most likely noticed him missing earlier and pieced it all together.

“I made this in your brother’s kitchen,” you warn him. “So, he might ask about it.”

As he takes a seat behind the desk, Secondo’s brow furrows. “You made it? It’s not from the kitchens?”

At this question you bite your lip. He tries not to stare at your mouth. “Uhm, I made it, yes. I didn’t want to bring you stale leftovers and besides, they didn’t have your favorite today…”

Secondo leans back in his chair. He can tell that you expect him to scold you, to tell you that he wouldn’t have minded the leftovers, that you shouldn’t waste your time on such a thing, but that’s not what’s on his mind at all. To anyone else, he might have said these things, but to you? He feels his heart swelling in his chest at the gentle care you offer him, an altogether unfamiliar feeling, so all he can really do is stare at you in wonder.

You seem uneasy under his lingering gaze, your restless hands fiddling with your habit. “Okay, well, I should leave you to it. I have other dut–”

“No, no, you stay,” he commands and there is no room to question him. He will not let you scurry off again, not this time.

He waits for you to take a seat before he removes the cloche from the plate, revealing a beautiful serving of Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe, complete with freshly ground pepper on top as well as some half-molten parmigiano. He fails to suppress a surprised exhale as he takes in the food. It’s a beautiful plate, one he may well find in one of his favorite restaurants in Rome or Milan.

“How do you know what is my favorite?” he asks, spreading the napkin out over his lap.

“Oh well, I’ve… I’ve seen you get it for lunch whenever they offer it… Maybe it’s not your favorite, I just assumed…”

“It is my favorite,” he admits. “You’re very observant, my dove. I should be more careful around you, eh?”

You smile at him and the corner of his mouth curls upwards as well before he quickly averts his gaze. Secondo grabs the fork and moves it around in the pasta, his stomach giving an urgent growl. It’s beyond him how he managed to miss lunch being this hungry, but you made sure to give him his very own Pasta Day and a much better one at that.

From your side of the table, his feelings are still veiled in shadows, hidden by the severity of his features. You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, but you have to admit that the situation is a bit awkward because all you do is sit here and watch him eat. Secondo, completely unbothered, has quickly finished half of what you put on his plate and you feel mildly concerned that you didn’t bring enough. He moans softly every few seconds and you struggle to hide what it does to you. There is something inherently erotic about this man eating your food, the way he seems to treasure every single bite, how he licks the sauce off his painted lips before using the napkin to gently clean them, leaving a mouth-shaped black stain on the cloth. It’s not hard to imagine the same shape covering every inch of your body, an entirely unhelpful thought. Secondo can’t hear how rapidly your heart is beating in your chest, but he may well notice how you sit there with your thighs pressed together, hands covering your lap.

“It’s good?” you ask for distraction, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve.

“Very good,” he states. “Have you not tried it?”

“Uh… well I had to hurry down here before it got cold.”

Secondo fills another fork, expertly wrapping the spaghetti around its tines. Then he holds it out to you, his other hand kept flat underneath it, and you realise that he wants you to eat.

That he wants to feed you.

Your chest feels like exploding as you lean over the desk to reach him. Eyes locked with his, you slowly open your mouth, pushing your tongue out just enough to give him a glimpse. His hand doesn’t move, in fact he’s completely static as his eyes move to your open mouth. They stay glued there, his own lips parting just slightly. The expression turns his features unusually soft.

“Papa?” you ask, trying to hide a grin.

Secondo looks back into your eyes, but before he can move, you wrap your lips around the fork and slowly drag the spaghetti off. He watches your every move and his reaction gives you the courage to continue. You moan softly at the taste, the intense aroma of the Pecorino still evident in the sauce and it is good, you have to give yourself credit for that.

You hum vocally, a sound that hits Secondo like a brick.

You’re so deliciously unaware of the pain he’s going through, how the sight of you licking your lips nearly drives him insane. Your tongue darts out to reach the corner of your mouth, but there is some sauce closer to your chin that you have to remove with your thumb. When you suck it off the digit, Secondo has to fight a deep groan and it comes out as a strangled cough. His cock is twitching in his pants, already half-hard, and he knows he has to get a grip. You’re eating, it shouldn’t have such an impact on him.

“I may need some more practice,” you say, sitting back in your chair. “But I would say it’s better than in the kitchens.”

“You’re modest,” Secondo states. “It was perfect, my dove, thank you. I could not have prepared this dish any better and I have made it a hundred times.”

An almost shy smile, only betrayed by the way your lips quiver as you hold back your delight at his praise. “You’re flattering me, Papa, I’m sure you’re way more proficient than I am.”

It’s an endearing look on you, a hopeful sort of confidence, laced with a hint of hesitation. He’s not sure where his next words come from, but despite their barely hidden meaning he can’t hold them back. “I hope I get the chance to return the favor soon. I think I know what your favorite is and I happen to know the perfect recipe.”

Your grin widens, your whole expression one of warmth and joy and he’s rendered speechless for a very conspicuous amount of time.

“Should I get rid of the tray?” you ask. “I think your brother wants his dishes back.”

He finds his words again at the mention of Terzo. “Only if you come back down here after. I need your help this afternoon or I am going to miss dinner as well.”

“Certo, Papa,” you say, mimicking his Italian. “I will be back before you notice that I’m gone.”

You grab the tray and he watches your figure disappear through the door, slumping back in his chair with a myriad of thoughts and feelings running through his mind that he can’t possibly catch up with. His hand finds his crotch as soon as you’re out of sight, adjusting just enough to get rid of the painful tightness in his pants.

At least this time he didn’t forget to thank you.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 Seeing Red

He’s trusting you with a Crowley.

It’s unprecedented. Secondo had Siblings watching before, he had them assist him before by bringing him tools, but never before has he allowed them to touch any of his delicate books.

It’s the next logical step. You have been watching him for months now, you have practiced on less valuable books and shown unexpected talent. And even now, with the Crowley in hand, he’s surprised to find himself trusting you completely.

Inexplicably, his eyes find you ever few minutes without his own doing. It’s not to control you, though maybe a tiny part of him does indeed check in with the state of your work. Whenever you look back, you hold his gaze so confidently. It’s intoxicating to have your eyes on him, fully aware that you reciprocate the feeling, and even when you don’t look back, seeing you so patiently focused on the needle in your hands is quite the sight.

His staring doesn’t stay unnoticed. You catch him looking at you for the tenth time in the past few minutes, though that is only a rough estimate. As elated as you are by his attention, you’re genuinely getting frustrated with him. He has to feel the tension between you. You refuse to believe that all those lingering looks are meaningless to him.

A sudden sharp pain in your finger. You hiss, more in surprise than in pain, and quickly pull away. The thick, curved needle pierced your white cotton glove and dug straight into your skin. By pulling it out so rapidly, you must have damaged an artery or at least left a pretty big wound because the blood spills out immediately. The shock only lasts for a quarter of a second before you pull your hand away, just in time before a few heavy droplets of blood drip down your wrist and onto the floor. Fortunately, the book still looks pristine and you take a shuddering breath of relief.

“What happened?” Secondo asks.

“I… I–”

Before you can explain, he’s by your side, roughly grabbing your arm to hold it steady.

“I didn’t bleed on the book,” you stammer. “I pulled my hand away really fast.”

His grip on your wrist is impossibly tight and you wonder if he’s going to scold you for your clumsiness, for being so distracted. His lips are pressed together as he takes in your shaky frame, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you struggle not to break away and you feel your lips quivering as you fight back tears.

“I’m so sorry, I– I didn’t–”

“I don’t care about the book,” he says and then he pulls you out of the workshop. Once you’re safely back in his office, he leaves for the storage room. You stand there, watching the blood run over your hand, pressing your thumb into your pulse in hopes of limiting the blood flow just like he did. But the once white glove is ruined by now, blotchy and red all over.

When Secondo returns, he carries a first aid kit. He sits down on the chair in front of his desk and motions for you to join him. You carefully step beside him, hand out-stretched in a cautious offering, but he’s having none of it, he just pulls you straight into his lap and grasps your wrist again.

“Let’s examine the damage,” he says, even though you’re not sure you can even hear him. His strong thighs are firm underneath yours, keeping you steady, but then there’s the throbbing in your finger, his hand on your arm, a wild mixture of impressions that overflow your sensory perception. Your rapid heartbeat surely does nothing to help with the bleeding.

You fight the urge to shift nervously but he doesn’t seem to notice your state, just turns your hand skyward and gets to work. He meticulously removes your bloody glove, one finger at a time, the fingertips of his own turning red in the process. Frustrated by the barrier, he removes them as well, throwing them aside with an annoyed grunt. Once his bare hands grasp yours, you feel a shiver running down your spine. The pain in your finger ceases to exist for a moment as you realise that this is the first skin on skin contact you ever shared. You’re closer than ever, so close you can smell the remainders of his cologne, feel his exhales on your skin.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Secondo muses. “You hit a bad spot.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I’m not usually so careless.”

“I know, my dove. It happens.”

Not to me, you want to say, not while I’m here, trying so hard to impress you.

“Go wash out the wound,” he orders then, his hand patting your hip in encouragement, dangerously close to your ass.

You reluctantly hop off his legs and wash your hand in the sink in the workshop. The water runs red at first but turns clear in the matter of seconds. With the blood gone, the wound only looks half as scary and you’re far less shaky when you return to the office.

You expect Secondo to just leave you to yourself now, but he immediately pulls you back into his lap, turning slightly to reach into the first aid kid on his desk, fiddling for bandaids and a spray bottle with disinfectant. You patiently hold out your hand, waiting for him to figure out the logistics.

The antiseptic stings and you flinch, more from shock than actual pain. Secondo is so careful, not a single tremor in his deft fingers as he applies the bandaid, making sure it sits tight around your still throbbing digit.

“There,” he says. “It is better now, yes?”

You nod, sniffling as you try to calm down. “Thank you, Papa.”

His mismatched eyes meet yours and the concerned furrow in his brow softens. One of his hands rests on your hip, the other comes up, hovering by your jaw as though he’s scared to touch you. You feel his fingertips grazing your skin, tickling, exploring cautiously.

His gentle touch gives you courage. You lean in slowly and press your lips to his cheek. The feeling of his skin against your lips is so soft that you linger, kissing again and again, slowly moving them further down while one of your hands skims his other cheek. Your last kiss hits the corner of his mouth and you hear him suck in a sharp breath through his nose. His lazy grip on your hip suddenly tightens until you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into your flesh.

You sit back and look at him. There is something wild in his eyes now, a flicker of… you can’t quite decide if it’s lust or anger. For a long moment he stares at you like this, a terrifying expression that keeps you static. Right when you come to the conclusion that he must be angry, that you have to apologise, his hand shoots up to grab your chin and then his fingers push into your hair, his second hand joining in until he’s properly holding your head. He growls and presses his lips together until his whole face is tense.

“Papa,” you whisper. “Did I–“

He shuts you up by moving to stand, simultaneously lifting you onto his desk and pushing himself between your legs until your chest is pressed to his. The first aid kit flies to the floor, but the impact is only evident by a distant cluttering because all you can focus on is him. Secondo’s hands find your head again, holding it in place as he continues to stare at you, eyes moving from your lips to your nose to your cheeks that are squished between his palms, and then, finally, they meet yours.

You think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in, but then his head abruptly turns to the side and he buries his face in your neck. With a groan, he pulls you further into him, squeezing so tightly that you lose your breath.

“You’re killing me,” he mumbles. “Oh, my dove, you will end me.”

”Papa–“

Another groan. He sounds like he’s suffering, a wounded animal about to turn into roadkill. You don’t quite understand. It feels good to be so close to him, to have him hold you like this, so you simply sink into his embrace, move your unhurt hand to the back of his neck and softly scratch his scalp. He sighs deeply, slowly relaxing against you.

“What is this?” you mumble.

He gives a dry chuckle. “I wish I knew.”

✦ ✧ ✦

4 The Storage Closet Incident

Are you high on glue and paint solvent? Maybe.

In any case, your head is spinning. You spent all morning so far sorting through a fresh delivery of restoration materials, taking inventory and checking if they’re complete. Papa was here earlier to check in with you but left for a clergy meeting half an hour ago, so you’re left alone inside the storage room. There are three more boxes outside in the hallway and you’re on your fourth now, different types of paints and solvents and glue. You never opened any of the cans but you swear you nevertheless inhale the biting fumes.

Upon crossing out the last few items on your list, you hear a heavy knock. Maybe you should be cautious with opening considering that no one ever knocks here, but you do indeed find Secondo in front of the entrance, still fully robed.

“Forgot my keys upstairs,” he mumbles, patting down his pockets as though they would magically appear if he just tried hard enough.

“You can take the ones inside the storage room for the rest of the day,” you suggest.

“Humph.”

He’s usually in a pretty foul mood after clergy meetings that involve his father, so you’re not surprised by the lack of conversation. You watch him pull the keys out of the lock – the door stays open while you’re busy in the storage room anyway – and when he carries them into his office, you think nothing of it. Any potential concern would have escaped you at the latest when you catch him shedding his robes through the open door. As soon as they’re hung up on the coat rack in the corner, you can’t help but sigh. He’s wearing his classic black shirt underneath – black because it won’t show the paint stains on his collar. But it barely touches his neck anyway; he keeps it open just enough to display the first few inches of dark, curly chest hair. You take in his slender form, the taut muscles on his arms stretching out the fabric as he moves around, sorting through the papers on his desk, hands covered in tight black leather gloves that perfectly match his belt.

“So…” He looks up and catches you staring. “How is inventory going?”

“Great,”you say, finally looking back at your actual work. “I’m more than halfway done.”

“Good,” he says. “You’re fast.”

You smile when you deposit the last bottle of glue onto the shelf. “Speaking of inventory, can you help me carry the rest of the boxes? I left the big ones for when you get back.”

He’s already back out of the door before you even finish your sentence, carrying one of the heavier cartons inside to where you’re standing. You push it in front of the designated shelf and wait for him to bring the other two boxes in as well – carrying both at the same time. On his way inside he bumps against the open door to the storage room and it falls close behind him. He sets the boxes down and you notice him flinching as he rights himself, even though he covers it up with a low cough. You make a mental note to acquire something for his back pains, perhaps Primo can whip up some sort of tincture or cream. And even though you highly doubt Secondo would let you rub it into his back, the image is very clear in your mind now.

You hide your deepening blush by pulling out your neat little list, flipping through the pages without actually reading anything. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon sorting these until Sister needs me.”

He moves to reach out for your arm, but his hand drops before he ever reaches it. “Thank you, my dove. I know it’s tedious work.”

You smile at him, a little disappointed that he didn’t touch you. “Well, I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

His gaze lingers on you for a little longer before he pulls himself away to return to the office. Only then do you realise that something is very odd in here. The door is closed. Fully closed. With no functioning door handle inside, you have no way of getting out without the keys. For a second, all you can do is stare at the metal bar used to pull it open – and the very empty hole where the key would usually be found.

“You have the keys, Papa,” you remind him.

“I don’t,” he states. “They’re on the desk.”

His lips are pressed together tightly and you can feel the colour draining from your face. No one ever comes down here, there is no chance people are going to find you anytime soon, at least not before your friends notice you missing.

You swear you can hear him mumble a cazzo, before he lets his forehead rest on his hand, massaging his temples, but your heart is beating so fast that it drowns out all other sounds. You’re not necessarily panicking, even though you do suddenly begin to wonder whether you’re secretly claustrophobic or not.

“It’s fine, I have my phone,” he says but you already know there won’t be any reception down here. Your suspicion is confirmed when he sets it down on the shelf next to him with a little too much force.

“My friends will probably come looking for me when I miss lunch.”

He looks over to you and suddenly his expression changes. There is a glimmer of something almost dangerous in his white eye that makes him look menacing, the effect only amplified by his skull paint and the sharp lines of his cheekbones. You back against the wall behind you, unable to look away despite your body telling you to be on alert. The last time he looked at you like this was when you hurt your hand and you wonder if he’s finally going to initiate more. The thought is arousing and bone-chilling at the same time.

”Papa–“

“Are you scared?” he interrupts, reading you perfectly.

“No,” you reply. “I’m not claustrophobic.”

He approaches you slowly, the soles of his black leather shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. “That is not what I meant.”

When he stops right in front of you, you swallow, your throat suspiciously dry all of a sudden. You can smell him over the paint solvent now, his cologne so heavy in your nose that you get dizzy. If you weren’t high before, then you are definitely high now. Instead of fear, you suddenly feel incredibly, stupidly bold, full of adrenaline and longing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say somewhat confidently. “I’m not scared of being alone with you.”

You should be, his eyes are telling you. Even closer now, he leans into you, his hands resting on the wall on either side of your head. You know the eye contact is something he enjoys so you keep your eyes on him without flinching away.

“If I had you right here right now no one would hear you screaming.” He chuckles uncomically, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “I could do to you whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He furrows his brow. “Hm?”

“Why the hell don’t you?” you challenge. “Why don’t you show me what you want to do to me?”

He seems taken aback by this, staring down at you with his lips slightly parted. For a second you think he’s going to snap back, scold you for disrespecting him, but he just huffs out a laugh. “You know why.”

“No I don’t!” You fight back tears as all of your suppressed emotions threaten to spill out. A strangled sob almost swallows your next words. “I don’t.”

Secondo stares at you and you finally look away, trying hard to stay quiet. You know this is not what he expected to happen and neither had you. But you can’t stop, you’ve lost control over your emotions and now that the cork has been removed you can’t get it back inside.

“I keep trying to find a reason why you don’t want me.” You force your gaze to meet his once more, despite being afraid of what you’re going to see in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me, Papa? What do I lack that the others before me had? What is wrong with me that you don’t even want me for a night?”

You’re crying now, struggling to make sense of him. Frankly, you’re already embarrassed by your outburst and expect him to laugh it off or gently tell you that he appreciates you but just doesn’t feel attracted to you like that. Even him yelling at you would help at this point.

“My dove–”

“Don’t call me that.”

He cocks his head to the side, his lip quivering slightly. “Where is this coming from now?”

You don’t reply, even though your pout should be answer enough. Secondo regards you for a long moment but there is no anger, only curiosity.

“Who knew you could be so feisty?” he mumbles, leaning in even closer but turning away just before your mouths can touch.

His lips ghost over your cheek, down your jaw, but they never touch. All you can feel is his hot breath on your skin, the tip of his nose dragging over your cheekbone. You squirm, letting out a desperate, high-pitched whimper. Secondo chuckles against your ear and the unfamiliar sound goes straight to your core, goosebumps running all over your body.

“You’re cruel,” you whisper. “So cruel.”

“I am.” His lips touch the shell of your ear. “But you seem to enjoy it.”

Impulsively, you wrap your hands around his neck for support. Secondo moves to look at you again, his pupils blown wide with lust. This time, you close the gap by leaning in, but he turns away just slightly, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You try again, more boldly this time, and you swear your lips are already grazing his, but then they’re gone again. His hand moves to grip your chin painfully tight, his thumb digging into your cheek so hard you can feel it pressing against your teeth. You’re completely immobile and when you test it out, his grip tightens even more. You’re pretty sure you’ll find subtle bruises all around your jaw tomorrow.

Secondo’s mouth still hovers just in front of yours, his exhales tickling your face, but he remains just out of reach. You whimper in desperation and he chuckles again, nuzzling your nose.

“Not so bold anymore now, eh?”

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his grip.

“Please what?”

You let out a half-strangled mewl. “P-please.”

Secondo hums and he can feel your body shivering underneath his, muscles jerking, everything inside of you trying to reach for more. He knows he’s being cruel, knows that you’re suffering, but he can’t deny that the thrill of having you at his mercy like that is spurring him on. He wants to test out your limits, see how far he can go, if he can get you to beg even more. You’re always so good, so quiet and polite. Seeing those previously unknown sides of you is like unwrapping a birthday gift and why should he stop when there is still so much more to explore?

You whimper louder this time and he brings his other hand to your waist, pulling you flush against him. A gasp and your mouth stays open just slightly, lips wet and glistening with spit, still pushed into a beautiful little pout bis his gloved fingers. He pushes his erection against you, eliciting a moan from you that seems to come from somewhere deep within. It’s what tips him over the edge, his patience dissolving into thin air. He unravels, closing the gap and swallowing all of your other sounds with his mouth. The kiss is sudden and almost violent. He has to release your jaw to ease the pressure on your head, but he just moves his hand down to your neck instead. More moans and whimpers as his tongue pushes into your now open mouth and it’s adorable how you keep trying to move against him. He rewards your efforts by easing up just slightly, allowing you to taste him as well.

Secondo is not sure what’s taking hold of him but he can’t fight the urge to taste more of your body. You’re all breathless when his mouth moves to your cheek and over your jaw, soothing, exploring. His lips find the soft skin below your ear, a shiver running down his neck. He can feel the tendon there twitching underneath his tongue and then he’s just sucking with reckless abandon, his intensity the result of a week-long, maybe even month-long starvation.

You moan into his ear and he thinks he’s going to lose it, his hips move on their own accord, pushing against you. It’s not a lot of friction but it’s enough to extract a deep groan from him. He wants to let go, he wants to have you so bad that it’s starting to obscure all rational thought. But he can’t lose control like that, not right now. As a safety precaution he pulls away, slotting his knee between your legs instead. With his hand on your hips he pulls you forward and you groan at the friction. A strangled sob and you try to wriggle for more. It’s uncomfortable with all the layers of clothing in between. His own pants are so tight that it provides him more pain than relief but to see you unravelling under his ministrations is enough to keep him going.

“Please,” you whisper, wriggling even more but his hand on your hips stays firm. He can feel the fabric of his pants getting wet under your movements, your crotch hot against his leg.

“Feels like you’re leaking onto my thigh,” he whispers back. “You’re such a mess, my dove, and I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You moan again, completely beyond words. He had this coming, he knows it. This was bound to happen at some point, the inevitable. But you’re at his mercy now and Secondo knows how to handle responsibility. He can see in your eyes that you’re too far gone now and for a second this clarity hits him like a brick. It’s almost like he’s watching the scene from above, bird’s eye view. This is exactly what he did not want – to fuck you like it’s just that, like it’s just sex, a quick romp in a closet, not even fully undressed, no real intimacy. Right now, it’s all you want, it’s all he wants, but what’s going to happen after?

Secondo pulls his head back to assess the situation, but when he sees the slowly drying tears on your cheeks, your still watery eyes, his paint and spit smeared all over your face and neck, he can’t bring himself to say any words that could possibly hurt you.

He’s lucky to be spared any excuses by a plethora of muffled noises in the background. Your eyes widen at the same time as he hears them and reality slowly settles around you again.

“Fratello?” The voice is barely audible through the thick door. “Secondo? Hellooooo?”

He acts faster than you even seem to realise what’s going on, gently letting go of you in favour of banging his fist against the door as rapidly as he can, trying to draw attention to you. There is barely any time to recover. The door opens after a minute and you find Terzo glancing into the room, hands still on the key in the lock.

“Oh, there you are, Secondo. Got locked inside, eh?” Then he smirks. “And with your little assistente no less. Tesoro, you look so flustered, did my brother–”

“Stai zitto,” Secondo snaps, pushing past him before his brother can get any good glimpse at the situation in and on his pants. “What do you even want down here?”

“Oh, thank you, caro fratellino, for saving us from being locked inside this room all day.”

A scoff. Secondo’s eyes find you again when you close the door of the storage room behind you and you struggle to meet his eyes. A pang of guilt, fear even, of what is going to happen now.

Terzo, completely unhelpful, looks between the two of you. “So, what happened here, eh? What did I miss?”

“Nothing, Papa,” you say quickly. “The door closed but it doesn’t have a handle on the inside. We had to use the key for something else earlier and forgot to put it back.”

“That’s not what I meant, tesoro.” Terzo glances at his brother and then back at you, furrowing his brow now that he’s seeing you both in proper lighting. There is a sudden edge of concern on his face. “Sibling, you look like you’ve been crying.”

Secondo is surprised that this is the first thing his brother comments on. You avoid both of their gazes, wringing your hands behind your back. “Oh, it’s nothing. I should probably go… I need to get back to work and I’m already late. Sister won’t be happy.”

Terzo cocks his head to the side, stopping you before you can walk out. He talks in a hushed, gentle voice, practically shutting Secondo out. “You should take a moment to calm down, tesoro, have a trip to the bathroom before you face Sister. You’re quite the mess.”

You nod at him, a grateful smile on your face, and then your eyes meet Secondo’s. A quarter of a second, nothing more, and he has no chance to convey anything with his expression. You give Terzo another pained smile and then you hurry outside.

The two man both wait for you to close the door before they face each other. Secondo has settled behind his desk by now, a healthy distance between them that seems to be the only thing keeping their tempers in check. Secondo can’t help but scowl, gripping the edge of the table so tight that his knuckles turn white. “This is none of your business, Terzo. I don’t meddle in your affairs.”

“Why did they cry?” Terzo asks, unimpressed. “What did you do?”

“Why do you ask it like that?”

“It’s usually not a good sign when someone cries after making out, fratello. Don’t think I cannot see your ruined make-up. Your little assistente looked even worse.”

Secondo almost jumps from his chair. “You think I would hurt them?”

“I don’t think you would hurt them,” Terzo explains calmly. “Not physically at least. But everyone sees how they look at you, stronzo, how you look at each other. Did you fuck up?”

Secondo breathes out a sigh, his hand relaxing as he leans back in his chair. “I don’t know.”

Terzo takes a few cautious steps towards him. “Look, I know, you’re not the type, you don’t fall in love, blablabla. But it is never too late to settle down if you find your person, you know? It may feel like giving up your freedom, but look at what you gain.”

“Aha. And what is that?”

Terzo smirks. “Someone who puts up with all of your bullshit.”

A drawn-out pause as they stare at each other.

Finally, Secondo exhales all the stowed anger, shaking his head incredulously. “I can’t believe you’re trying to explain to me how relationships work. You.”

Terzo shrugs, moving back towards the exit. “Think about it. You are going to feel so much more balanced.”

He’s halfway out the door when Secondo notices that he never told him why he was here in the first place. Thinking back, he’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother in this workshop or anywhere close to this part of the basement before.

“What did you want down here?” he calls after him.

“Huh?” Terzo turns back to him, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ah, you know, a ghoul noticed you two were trapped in there and to be honest… I’m kind of invested now.”

✦ ✧ ✦

5 Returning the Favour

A note.

You pick up the weighty envelope that someone, most likely a ghoul, had delivered to you earlier by sliding it underneath your door. The paper has your name on it in beautiful cursive, deep black ink, a green wax seal with a II stamped into it, keeping the contents safe. The note inside is written in a similar fashion, kept very brief and in neat handwriting. All it says is: My quarters, 7pm. Secondo.

Considering you spent most of the night in pure agony, this is a welcome glimmer of hope. He is reaching out and that is what matters, despite all of your doubts and anxieties telling you otherwise, obscuring the joy you should feel at the fact that things are finally moving.

You take the note and press it to your heart, sitting back down on the bed in your tiny quarters. It smells vaguely of his cologne or at least the whimsical part of you wants it to. In any case, he wrote it, thinking about you, maybe even longing for you. Your worries slowly melt at that thought, even though you��re aware you’re in love with the most unattainable man in the whole abbey.

If you had glanced outside the window in that very moment, you would have caught Secondo making his way through the gardens and to the greenhouse – a man on a mission.

He had been pondering all night what he could possible do to make it up to you, to set things right. And there is really only one thing he could think of: Food.

When you made him lunch he promised to return the favour. Another unprecedented lapse. Secondo cooks, he loves to cook, but he does not cook for his dates. It’s too intimate, too personal. His kitchen is sacred, preparing food a form of meditation after a long day. It’s a part of himself he doesn’t share with fleeting encounters.

So when he found himself in a nearby Italian market earlier, carefully choosing the ingredients for a meal, he almost felt lost. He’s bought in bulk before, he’s bought for himself before, but he’s never bought specifically for two. And most unsettlingly, it feels good.

Now, here in Primo’s sanctuary, he has almost made peace with these new developments.

Almost.

“Buon pomeriggio, fratello,” he greets the older man. “I am in need of some fresh basil.”

Primo immediately picks up his scissors. “Che fortunato. My basil plants are thriving at the moment.”

Secondo has no doubts about that. The smells inside the greenhouse are rich and aromatic, a sensory reminder of all the summers he spent in the Italian countryside, trying to connect with his roots. As much as he loves big cities with their bustling night lives, clubs and parties, exclusive bars and restaurants… this is home.

While he’s busy reminiscing, Primo moves to an array of basil plants in the corner, their oval leaves a vivid shade of green. Secondo is pleased with that. They’re going to turn his dish into the most beautiful colours and since his objective for today is that everything has to be perfect, details like that matter.

“È sufficiente?” Primo asks.

“A bit more. I am cooking for two tonight.”

Primo furrows his brow, cutting some more leaves off the delicate plant. “You have a guest for dinner? Someone special, then?”

Secondo hates that he knows him so well sometimes, but Primo is the only one who was ever even close to a healthy father figure for him. His counsel is the only one he truly values, even though he is rare to seek it out these days.

All he can do is give a curt nod in reply.

“You’re in love,” Primo states with a smile. “That is a good thing, you know?”

Secondo makes a face. “I feel like I am sick. I don’t know how people do it.”

“It will stop feeling like that at some point,” Primo explains, carefully placing the cut basil in a small basket. “You will grow to appreciate a steady presence by your side, fratello, especially when you reach my age.”

Secondo wants to reply that he doubts it, but it would be a lie to pretend he hasn’t thought about it since getting close to you. You are steady. You are smart and kind and caring, he can talk to you as well as be silent with you. There hasn’t been a single moment in all these months now in which he’s grown tired of you. And yes, that is unprecedented as well.

“Thank you for the basil,” Secondo says.

Primo gives him a gentle, brotherly smile.

✦ ✧ ✦

A tentative knock.

Secondo looks up from the counter and towards the door, his heart rate quickening in a concerning jump. Another knock, more confident this time. He chuckles to himself. You’re nervous but you don’t want him to think that you are – which is exactly how he’s feeling right now.

Before he opens, he wipes his hands on his black slacks, rights the collar of his white shirt, and then there you are. There you are.

And it’s a sight he will never forget. He’s very pleased to see that you dressed up for him. When he kisses your cheek in greeting, he catches your scent and the perfume with its sweet as well as tangy notes perfectly mirrors your character. It takes everything in him to break away again.

“Thank you for following my invitation,” he says, closing the door behind you.

A shy smile. “It sounded more like an order.”

He feels his heart plummeting and for a second there is a shadow of doubt crossing his mind. “Is that the reason you came? Because you felt obligated?”

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. “No. No, I would have come either way, no matter why you want me here.”

Relief. He takes your arm and gently guides you further into the room. “I want you here because I promised to cook for you and I intend to keep that promise.”

“So, this is a dinner date?”

“Yes.”

“A date date?”

“Yes.”

Your smile is worth it, genuine and so bright that he almost forgets what he’s supposed to do. Your lips are all he can focus on when you’re so close and it’s only when he sees them form an O that he realises he’s been staring. Secondo finally pulls you into the kitchen area and motions for you to sit on a stool at his counter. It’s surreal to see you here, such different surroundings, but it’s a sight he could get used to.

“Is that fresh basil from the greenhouse?” you ask.

Secondo values a professional mise en place, every ingredient neatly laid-out ready to be used which gives you the perfect opportunity to analyse everything he’s going to use. “It is.”

“So you did guess my favourite.”

“I didn’t guess, my dove.” He looks up at you. “You’re not the only one who is observant.”

You smirk and while he’s busy filling a big pot with water to boil the pasta you take in his quarters. Naturally, they are much bigger than yours, the kitchen and living area combined into a spacious room, all dark colours, black and grey, contrasted with a few light grey touches here and there. You notice a lingering smell of incense and what you can only assume is cigar smoke. A small serving cart turned into a bar sits next to an emerald green couch with velvet upholstering. Your eyes are drawn to a carafe filled with a dark ember liquid, sitting right next to a crystal ashtray that reflects the remainders of sunlight streaming in through the arched windows.

Secondo sets the heavy pot down on the stove and the thud makes you turn your head back to him. He’s noticed you drifting off, hoping that you like what you’re seeing, that you wouldn’t mind spending time here more often. His home in the abbey has been crafted very consciously over the past decade, every item carefully curated. He’s toying with the optimal balance between luxurious and still slightly understated, comfortable.

Your face doesn’t betray your opinion but as he turns on the stove, you slip from your stool. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him behind the counter and tries not to let you deter him from the task at hand – salting the water, one of many steps. You come to a stop right behind him and then he feels your arms snaking around his waist, squeezing tightly as you press yourself into his back, your cheek right against his shoulder. It’s an unexpectedly tender hug, like you just need to be close to him in any way that you can, and despite your soft affection that he so struggles to accept, he’s immensely relieved to have you closer.

Secondo lets you hold him for however long you want. He can clearly imagine your squished cheek, your puckered lips, and all he wants is to spin you around and kiss you breathless. But his plan says no physicality until after dinner. He knows he won’t be able to stop once you start touching, and he has a lot to do until then, a lot to say until then. So it’s dinner first, then discussing the necessities, and then he can fuck you.

“My dove, you’re distracting me,” he says, finally adding a generous amount of salt to the water.

“Mhm.” You duck underneath his arm and hug him sideways now, your face melting into his neck. When your nose brushes against his sensitive skin it’s almost enough to make him come undone. A shiver runs down his spine and you give a satisfied hum at his reaction. “Actually, I was wondering… is it allowed to kiss the chef?”

“Ordinarily, it’s not.”

A kiss just below his ear. “And un-ordinarily?”

Fuck his plan.

He grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, bringing one gloved hand up to cup your cheek. He stops for a second, taking in the barely visible bruises on your jaw. With the memory of what happened in the storage room clear in his mind, he feels a jolt of lust, and then his mouth is on yours. This time, he’s not as forceful, but it’s not as soft as he would wish either. He can’t help but push his tongue into your mouth at the first opportunity, tasting you and a hint of minty toothpaste. You moan softly, clinging to the front of his shirt until he’s sure he could have spared himself the trouble of ironing it.

He breaks away, staring at your swollen lips, the skin around them all red and wet with spit.

Oh, that mouth.

He’s going to lose his mind over it, slowly but surely, and he can’t help but kiss you again, slower, deeper, exploring every inch of you with his tongue.

When he breaks away this time, you smile and the way it stretches your lips, plumps the apples of your cheeks and brings out that joyful glimmer in your eyes – it feels so personal, so very intimate to him. This kind of smile should belong to him and only him.

“Are you very worried about this?” you ask suddenly, smoothing your hand over his shirt. “About us?”

A deep, long sigh. “I worry, yes. I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

Your hand slides up his neck, softly cradling his cheek. “All I want is you, Secondo, in any way that I can.”

He smiles at the use of his name, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch. It may well be the first smile in a long time that he doesn’t even attempt to hold back, though he’s not sure if that’s true. He catches himself smiling at the mere thought of you more often than seems healthy. In your presence, his mouth does a lot of things he simply can’t control anymore.

Like kiss you again right now, fiercely, passionately, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth until you start whining. At this point, he doubts he will ever be sated. His need for you is an ever-expanding black hole and he’s teetering at the edge of being consumed himself. But he’s no stranger to uncertainty, to taking risks, as much as he hates the feeling of powerlessness. And so the next time you part, he turns off the stove despite the water almost boiling, and pulls you into his bedroom.

There should have been a conversation at some point tonight that lasted more than that one sentence of reassurance you gave him, an honest exchange of expectations, feelings and hopes, but maybe he doesn’t have to say it.

It’s a knee-jerk response, a very reactionary change of plans: Make love to you (or at least attempt it), eat dinner, then fuck you for the rest of the night.

The bedroom, unsurprisingly, is dominated by a huge four-poster bed, clad in emerald green sheets that give off a sweet scent, only overpowered by the smoky aroma of the incense burning on Secondo’s altar, the light of numerous black candles dipping the room in a warm, flickering light, heavy curtains blocking out the sun completely.

You stand in front of his bed shivering in anticipation.

“Two things,” he says, eyes fixated on yours. “First: In here, it is Papa. At least for now.”

You nod.

“Second: You will tell me immediately if I do anything that you don’t like. No shame, no judgement. You use your words to let me know what you want or do not want. Yes?”

“Yes, Papa.”

He smirks. You learn fast, but he knows that already. Secondo reaches out for your hands, taking both of them in his and bringing them to his lips, gently but insistingly kissing your knuckles. In the dim light, his features look daunting, a stark contrast to his soft mouth. His eyes meet yours, fervently, longingly, and then he drops your hands and pulls you in for a real kiss. This time, knowing he won’t have to hold back anymore, he lets his hands roam free, opening buttons, freeing every inch of your skin with deft, confident fingers, until you’re completely bare in front of him. His mouth doesn’t leave yours even as you gasp for air, sucking and licking on whatever he can reach. Ultimately, he keeps your bottom lip trapped between his teeth to allow you some air, teasing it with his tongue before swallowing your next breath yet again. Meanwhile, his hands explore the outlines of your body, big, curious hands still covered in leather, mapping out every single detail.

Shaky fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt, not managing to open any of them but trailing further down until they find his belt. He allows you to fiddle with the buckle, if only because your warm fingers graze his abdomen with every attempt to open it. When you give up and reach further down, he gently removes your hands and pulls away from the kiss.

You look at him with big eyes, whimpering softly, and he can tell that you’re nervous.

“Relax, my dove,” he says, swiping his thumb over your hot cheek. “All I want is to take care of you. Now, get on the bed.”

You do as he says, so obedient. Secondo removes his belt slowly, watching you stretch out amongst his sheets and pillows. His hand falters at the sight. You’re beautiful, a dream come true, and in that moment he is immensely relieved that he did not give into his impulses before.

With your eyes on him, he removes his shirt and steps out of his pants. He didn’t bother with underwear, so when he joins you on the bed there is nothing separating you anymore. Your skin is hot under his as he crawls between your legs, towering over your shivering form.

He can’t help but kiss you once more, licking into your waiting mouth. Your hand moves to his head, scratching softly, and he hums as he allows his lips to travel to your neck. He finds a deep purple hickey there which shouldn’t come as a surprise to him since he left it there a mere day ago but the sight nevertheless makes him proud. You’re already marked as his and when the night is over, your whole body will be.

Making true on that promise, his lips trail down your body, stamping soft, lingering kisses to your chest, your nipples, licking down to your abdomen where he stays for a moment.

“Hm, così dolce,” he whispers. “So sweet.”

“Papa,” you say.

He looks up. “Yes?”

You buck your hips slightly. “I need… I need more.”

He sits back, intense eyes circling in on you as he removes his gloves, throwing them aside. “Open your mouth, tesoro, show me that sweet tongue.”

You do, poking out your tongue slightly, and he leans back over you, sliding two fingers in between your still swollen lips. You start to suck, swivelling your tongue around his digits and he can feel his cock twitching at the sight and feeling.

“So good for me, my dove,” he whispers. “So good for your Papa.”

You moan around his digits, the vibrations sending a pang of need into his body. When you start to breathe heavily through your nose, he decides that his fingers are wet enough. His hand snakes down your body, collecting more of your arousal, and then he starts working you slowly, carefully. You whimper, demanding more, but for right now he’s not going to hurry. You’re not going to come before he’s inside of you.

He continues for a bit longer until you can feel the arousal flowing through your whole body, building up into waves that make you shiver. His fingers find your waiting hole, spreading out the combination of spit and arousal on his hand and stretching you open bit by bit. His hard cock, already leaking precum, sits hot and heavy against your thigh. Mismatched eyes never leave yours, catching ever flicker of lust and pleasure in your half-lidded eyes, even as the squelching sounds between your legs get louder and you barely manage to hold his gaze anymore.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, Papa.”

“Please what?” he demands. “Words, tesoro.”

You swallow heavily, chest heaving as your body tries to search for his, but he’s hovering just above you, propped up on one arm, massaging your insides with the other.

“I want you, Papa,” you say. “Please, I need you inside of me, need to f-feel you. Please.”

Secondo could listen to you all day and maybe later he’s going to see just how long he can get you to beg, but right now he’s too impatient, too eager, spurred on by how tight and wet you feel around his fingers. His cock is aching for friction and so he removes his hand, ignoring the disapproving whine you let out.

“Since you ask so nicely,” he says.

Cock in hand, he lines himself up, carefully pushing inside. Your head falls back into the pillows as you let out a drawn-out hum, taking him so well, inch by inch, and he feels a flutter inside of his chest at the sight. Your legs wrap around his back, heels digging into his ass, and he lets his chest sink onto yours, waiting for you to relax, to adjust. Pressed together like that, a searing wave of emotion overcomes him, deep, warm, an intense longing to never let go that is utterly unfamiliar to him. He has to unload the sudden tension in a heated kiss, feeling your moans and whimpers reverberating inside of him as he slowly starts moving.

He tries to make it last, to keep up a careful, deliberate rhythm. He really, really tries, biting his lip to hold back, but he soon has to go faster to stay sane. More desperate noises from you as his thrusts get harder and weeks of held-back need for you spill out from inside of him. Attaching his lips to the still unmarked side of your soft neck, he starts sucking, biting, trying to absorb you into him. You keen, one hand on his neck, the other tightly grabbing his shoulder for support. With a pop, he removes his mouth to take a deep breath and your expression is hazy, eyes clouded with lust. He shifts his weight onto one arm, angling your hips up slightly and you clench around him over and over again at the changed angle, crying out softly at every roll of his hips. He feels himself getting close and to his relief he can tell you’re getting there too, trembling underneath him more and more.

“Please,” you say, strangled, whimpery. “Please, Papa, I n-need to– need to come.”

He growls, bringing his hand between your bodies to help you over the edge. It’s strenuous, his arm protesting wildly, but when he feels your sticky arousal on his fingers, it’s enough to keep him going.

“Come for me,” he says. “Come on my cock, tesoro. You’ve been so good for your Papa.”

It’s all you need, two more thrusts and a few words of praise, and you tighten around him, crying out as your whole body shudders. He gives a few more laborious thrusts to draw out your pleasure before he finally changes the angle, taking the weight off his arm until he can pound into you harder, chasing his own release. His hips snap against yours, loud obscene sounds, and you whimper in overstimulation, arms wrapping around him gently as he stills. A low moan leaves his burning throat and he spills inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His hips stutter a few more times before he rolls onto his side, dragging you with him.

Heavy, panting breaths fills the sudden silence of the room. Secondo pulls you close and you settle against his chest, breathing kisses to his sweaty skin, softly licking up the column of his throat. He only hums and for a long time, you stay like this, tangled up in silky sheets and the comfort of each other. His hold on you is so tight that you don’t, not even for a second, doubt whether he meant everything that just happened, all the things he can’t bring himself to tell you yet but that you can feel so clearly even in his silence – and for now, that’s enough.

“You sabotaged my dinner plans,” he finally whispers, breathing more slowly now. “I didn’t even get to open the wine.”

You chuckle against his neck. “Would you like me to help you preparing it now?”

Secondo sighs deeply, pulling you closer. “No, my dove, give your Papa a few more minutes of this, yes?”

By the way you can feel him twitching against your belly, you highly doubt that it’s only going to be a few more minutes. He knows this too, his plans long abandoned, and when you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes full of reverent love for an old man like him, he starts to embrace all of the changes you bring into his life. Maybe Terzo was right after all, maybe it’s never too late, not even for someone like him.

Thank you for reading! I know this was very long but believe me, writing it was a pain too :D I hope you enjoyed it – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always very appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3

#secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #secondo smut #secondo fluff #soft secondo #ghost #ghost fanfiction

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leezlelatch · 1 year ago

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Aftercare

18+ MDNI

Secondo x F!Reader - fluff, suggestive, explicit conversation, mention of viagra

Part 2 of Bite for @writingjourney. I’ll light a candle for you.

“Just there, amore,” Secondo sighs, relaxing into the heating pad with a soft groan. You ensure the warmth is placed right along his lower back comfortably so he can rest against the pillows in the shared afterglow of your lovemaking. “Grazie, grazie. Now come to your Papa.”

“Come to your Papa, come for your Papa,” you muse with a teasing grin. “So demanding these days, Secondo.” You slide under the covers next to him and squeak with surprise as he hooks an arm around your waist and drags you across the sheets to nestle against his side.

“What ever shall I do with that smart mouth, hmm?” He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder, his fingers dancing through your hair, taking the time to gently massage your scalp as he goes. He tugs on the strands just a little as he adds, “Fill it?”

“I think you’re finished for the night,” you say cheekily, earning another tug and a click of his tongue. You giggle softly in the darkened room and Secondo presses his lips to your head. You can feel him smiling.

“There’s a little blue pill in my bedside drawer that says otherwise, ragazzaccia,” he murmurs. Secondo brings his other hand to your bottom lip, his thumb dragging along the plump skin. He pulls gently, his white eye slitted with delight at the small noise that escapes the lips he longs to feel against his cock. “Ah,” he continues. “But you’re right. It is for another day, perhaps. Hmm. Or the morning. Yes, the morning.”

“You are going to render us both unable to walk,” you sigh, twisting your body to lay your head in his lap, your face turned slightly into the softness of his belly. Secondo gazes down at you with amusement. He brings a finger to the tip of your nose and gently draws a line to your forehead and then back down over one cheek, and then the other. Tracing your features. Memorizing those features.

“Ti amo,” he murmurs then, his gaze soft. Secondo heaves a sigh and looks up to the ceiling for a moment as if to anchor himself against the fierce emotion you could see in his eyes. “It would be worth it to lose functionality to the bliss of your body.”

You huff a laugh, and then reach up with your hand to run the backs of your fingers sweetly over his cheek, feeling the beginning of stubble on his jaw. “I love you, too. So very much. I wish I could…I don’t know, tell you. Explain. You are everything, Secondo. Everything.”

Secondo catches your hand and places a kiss to your palm before nuzzling his hooked nose into the skin. “You don’t need to explain, falenina. I feel it. Perhaps I do not understand it.” Secondo grabs your cheeks with a hand, exaggerating the pout you make at his words. “Now hush, do not make such a face. I light a candle in thanks to Lucifer every midnight for you. For loving me. For your health. For your happiness. I am…beyond grateful.”

“I want to be with you forever,” you say, turning fully to press your face to the warmth of his skin. Your cheeks flush, and his body shakes slightly as he laughs, but it’s a fond one, a loving one.

“Don’t make your poor Papa lean over. Come up here and kiss me,” he says, guiding you to sit back up.

A smile crosses your lips, playful. “Making demands again?”

Secondo sighs dramatically, drawing your lips to his in a lingering kiss. He only barely brushes his tongue over yours before pulling away, a wicked smile adorning his lips. “Ragazza mia. Open the bedside drawer would you?”

#the band ghost #mdni #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x female reader #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x female reader #secondo x reader #papa secondo #the band ghost fanfiction #secondo emeritus #secondo fluff #papa emeritus ii fluff #poorly translated italian

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ghost-in-the-hall · 2 years ago

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Fresh Paint (Secondo x Fem!Wife!Reader) - FLUFF

WARNINGS: Google translated Italian, tooth rotting fluff

*La mia stella - my star *La nostra stella - our star

A/N: @ramblingoak @kissingghouls here it is, the sparkly face paint fic! I love you both!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned against the doorframe with a smile as you watched your husband hold your youngest daughter in his lap. The sounds of her giggles filled the room as Secondo ran a finger down her nose, leaving a black smudge in its wake. "There, now we can match la mia stella." He chuckles.

"I wanna help put on daddy's face paint!" She cheers, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Alright tesoro, go get the paint." He sets her gently on the floor and watches her skitter off, a softness that nobody outside your family had ever seen from Secondo. You walked up behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders and placing a kiss to the top of his head. "She's growing up so fast, amore." He chuckles, hand coming up to gently intertwined his fingers with yours.

"You said that with our first three as well." You can't help but giggle as he leads you around his chair and pulls you into his lap.

"Let's try for a fifth." He grins, only half joking. Your youngest comes running back with black and white cream paint in tow, rushing up to Secondo with an excited glimmer in her eye. You place one last kiss to his temple before getting up, knowing your daughter would like to get started on her masterpiece as soon as possible. You watched a scowel of concentration form on her face, something she definitely picked up from Secondo, as she painstakingly tries to recreate her father's usual intricate makeup. Every so often Secondo would pause her work and go clean up any particularly messy lines before letting her continue. You left to go get ready yourself, you always looked forward to attending rituals with your husband.

"Honey, Terzo should be here soon to pick up the kids." You were fidgeting with the clasp of your necklace as you walked back into the room. Your husband stood, turning to face you. Your daughter did an incredibly good job with a little assistance, but something seemed a bit off. You stepped closer to him, gently cradling his face in your hands to shift him around in the light. "Honey, you're… sparkly." You point out with a giggle.

"She accidentally grabbed some of your makeup, not mine." He states bluntly.

"Would you like me to try and help fix it?" You sigh with a smile, letting your hands fall to rest on his shoulders.

"Nonsense, la nostra stella did an amazing job, I think the glitter is a nice touch." He grins down at your daughter, ruffling her hair and earning a loud giggle from her. The knock at the door alerted you both to his brother's arrival. You opened the door, a swift kiss to your cheek, an elated greeting to his brother, and Terzo paused.

"Secondo, what the hell happened?" Terzo doubled over laughing at Secondo's sparkly state. Secondo rapidly approaches him, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Watch your mouth," he picks up your daughter, resting her on his hip. "Mia bambina helped with my paint, if anything it's an improvement." He angrily eyes his brother, his gaze immediately softened as they landed on your daughter who was soon joined by your other three children, all excited to spend time with their zio Terzo. "Go play with the other's tesoro." He gives her a pat on her head as he sets her down. He offers you his arm, "let's get going, my love." As the door shuts behind you both you lean over to place a soft kiss against your husband's cheek.

"I like the glitter."

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Tag List: @jumpcauseimfroggy @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @gothdaddyissues @jennmakesitweird @copiousloverofcopia @rabidghoul @moss-the-moth @littlegirlsdontplaynice (hopefully I got everyone)

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mama-emeritus-i · 1 year ago

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Lavender Blue, Dilly Dilly (Dad!Secondo X Reader)

A little blurb of Dad Secondo based on an idea from the head cannon post! My dad used to sing this to me as a kid so I thought it would be fitting :)

Warning: kids, absolute tooth rotting fluff, soft Secondo, not proof read cause reading my own writing makes me want to cry.

It had been a long week for you. It was your first week back since having Irene, so not only were you working on getting caught up, you also had to deal with everyone asking weirdly invasive questions about you and your family.

You sigh as the clock clicks to the hour and without another word you walk back to your flat. Secondo finished earlier than you today, as he just had some meetings to discuss band things. As you enter into the flat, you expect to find everyone asleep. The living room and kitchen are dark, but the door to the nursery is left ajar, light filtering through.

As you walk in quietly, you’re treated to the sight of your husband, Secondo, wearing comfortable clothes and sans face paint, holding Irene. You hear him softly singing to her- a stark contrast to why he’s usually singing.

“Lavender blue, dilly-dilly

Lavender green

If you were king, dilly-dilly

You'd need a queen

Who told me so?

Dilly-dilly

Who told me so?

I told myself, dilly-dilly

I told me so”

You watch as he softly rocks Irene, who looks to be about half asleep. Secondo’s usually hardened facial features are soft as he looks at his daughter. He doesn’t even notice you as he rocks her, Irene fighting her tired eyes to stay awake.

“If your dilly-dilly heart

Feels a dilly-dilly way

And if you'll answer yes

In a pretty little church

On a dilly-dilly day

I'll be wed in a dilly-dilly dress of

Lavender blue, dilly-dilly

Lavender green

Then you'll be king, dilly-dilly

And I'll be queen”

Once Irene finally goes to sleep, Secondo carefully puts her in the crib, watching for a moment as she sleeps. He turns around towards you, surprised but happy that you’re home. He walks up to you, kissing you on the cheek.

“I see you’re finally back- Irene should be asleep now…” He quickly shuffled you both out the door before turning out the lights, leaving you two in a dark hallway.

“Let’s hope she stays that way for the night.” You laugh slightly as Secondo takes your hand, leading you into the kitchen. When he flips on the light you see two plates of food covered by tinfoil.

“I made us dinner- I didn’t know when you were going to get off and Irene was playing so well by herself at the time.” Secondo hands a plate to you, as he walks over to the couch in the living room and sitting down. You come and join him, thankful not to be in another uncomfortable wood chair.

You two manage to eat your food before heading to bed. It was good and still pretty warm due to the tin foil. Irene managed to sleep through most of the night, except for when you got up to feed her, Secondo insisting on staying up with you.

#ghostbc #ghost band #papa emeritus secondo #papa emeritus x reader #papa emertius #secondo fluff #dad secondo #i love dad secondo #secondo #papa emeritus ii x reader #Spotify

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her-satanic-wiles · 5 months ago

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Spring Cleaning with Secondo

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Secondo’s eyes snapped open and a groan fell from his lips. He sat up just enough to see the clock. 6:30am. What stronzo could wish for death so much they’d wake him a full hour and 30 minutes before his alarm was due to sound? And before he’d had his coffee at that.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Those knocks were too fast and cheery to be intended for him. Perhaps someone had got the room wrong? It didn’t matter. He’d have to give them a piece of his mind before he attempted sleep again. He pushed the comforter off his body and wrapped a dressing gown around him, preserving what little modesty he had left.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Sì, sì, va bene! I am coming!” Secondo complained loudly, loud enough that the offending person may hear him from the other side of the door.

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

This is part of the @home-charity-fanzine for Palestine! To read the rest of this fic, and see other amazing artworks and fics, please go ahead and donate to access the full zine. More details on the above blog.

Free Palestine!

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bupia · 1 year ago

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Serendipity: Chapter 1 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a Halloween night, you, along with Terzo and his family, head to the Ministry for an annual ball to celebrate this beloved day. On this occasion, you have the chance to meet Terzo's brothers, whom you've heard about for so long: Primo, Secondo, and most notably, the current Papa Emeritus, Copia.

Words: 7.811

A/N: Happy Halloween! After 30 days of The Ministry Kinktober, I thought it'd be fun to start a new series with Copia, this time casting him in the role of Papa Emeritus IV. I hope you all find it enjoyable.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

Day 1: The Halloween ball.

Not too long ago, you had taken on the role of a nanny for Terzo's family, a job that might have seemed traditional but had turned into something quite extraordinary. It was a simple job, as you saw it, but it held a unique charm. You didn't need what people would call a "proper job." You had found an opportunity and embraced it with open arms.

Your life with Terzo, Angèle, and little Andras had begun when you first met them. The revelation that a Papa could marry and have children had initially surprised you, but as the months passed, you grew to understand why.

Terzo, was the former Papa Emeritus III, he had retired from his role but retained his title, akin to a seasoned veteran who continued to bear the honor of his past. He belonged to a unique religious group, far from the conventional churches that prayed to God and Saints. It was a Satanic Ministry.

Terzo had been apprehensive that you would run away upon learning the truth, but why would you? You saw no harm in their beliefs, and they were a joyful, healthy, and loving family. It was just one more facet of their lives, like an extra spice that enhanced the flavor of your experience, which may not have made much sense to outsiders, but to you, it was just an intriguing facet of their lives. You wouldn't judge them for it.

Over time, you had naturally learned more about their religion, not because they imposed it on you, but because you had an open mind and a willingness to listen. They always made sure you were comfortable with the information they shared, never pushing you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. However, what had truly piqued your interest was when you heard about the existence of Ghouls, and your excitement had reached peak levels when you finally met Dewdrop, one of the oldest Ghouls of the Ministry.

As you became closer to the family, Angèle shared pictures of their life in the Ministry, including images of Terzo's brothers. Primo, the eldest, had a commanding presence during his time as a Papa, but Angèle assured you he was a kind soul. Secondo, just three months older than Terzo, always wore an intimidating frown and had an impeccable sense of style.

And then, there was Copia, the current Papa Emeritus of the ministry and the new leader of Ghost. From the pictures Angèle showed you, Copia seemed to have it all. His handsome features and warm smile made your heart race, and the sight of him holding little Andras in a nursery photo nearly brought you to tears; it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, circling back to the present, tonight was Halloween night, and you, Terzo, Angèle, and Andras were en route to the Ministry, all dressed in your costumes. The creative family had chosen to embody the Addams Family, while you, wanting to fit in somehow, had opted for a nun costume. In hindsight, it might not have been the best choice for a gathering at a satanic Ministry, but it was too late to change now.

As you got closer to the ministry, a wave of apprehension washed over you. You had grown accustomed to Terzo's family and their satanic customs, but tonight was different, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect, especially in the company of his brothers. In your heart, you knew your role was that of a nanny and nothing more. Yet, a part of you yearned to connect with the people you would meet tonight, especially since Terzo would be spending a week within the Ministry starting by today. He had explained that this was an opportunity to address some important matters with the clergy and to provide guidance to his brother, Copia, in his new role, alongside Primo and Secondo.

Also, you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about meeting Copia in person. You hoped he lived up to the handsome figure he cut in the pictures Angèle had shared with you.

"We are almost there, Papa," Dewdrop's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, refocusing your attention on the road ahead. You glanced at the rearview mirror, where you could see Andras peacefully asleep in Angèle's arms. Terzo sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her leg. It was unusual for Terzo not to be the one behind the wheel, but tonight, given the formal nature of the ministry's event, Dewdrop had been assigned to chauffeur you all in one of the ministry's official cars.

A smile tugged at your lips as you admired the loving scene before you. Then, you turned your gaze to the Ghoul seated right beside you. "You didn't want to put on a costume for today, Dewdrop?" you asked playfully.

Dewdrop chuckled and replied, "I don't think I need one."

You couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Well, that's true. You are already in the Halloween spirit every day. I thought you would have convinced him to dress up as Lurch," you said as you turned your face to Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ho tentato," he said with a grin, "but he refused. Apparently, driving a car for us today is already pushing the boundaries of his Ghoul image."

Dewdrop nodded with a smirk. "I have to maintain my Ghoul dignity, Papa."

As the car made a slight turn, you laid eyes on an old building that resembled a church. It bore a striking resemblance to the other churches you had seen before, but there was something uniquely captivating about it. The building was grand, situated on a sprawling piece of land adorned with a beautiful garden. It left you in awe, and your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the sight.

The car continued its way until it came to a stop in front of the large building. A group of Ghouls, more than you were accustomed to, had gathered by the entrance and swiftly approached the car. This was the first time you had seen so many of them at once; you were typically only in the company of Dewdrop.

"We are here," Dewdrop announced.

"Grazie, Dewdrop, for bringing us here today."

The Ghouls opened the car doors for Terzo and Angèle, who wasted no time in stepping out. However, you remained seated inside, gazing forward. Dewdrop reached out and gently touched your arm.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Dewdrop reassured you with a warm smile. "There's no need to be nervous. Everything will be fine. Come with me, and you'll be fine."

He opened his door, then walked to your side, opening your door as well. You took Andra's bag and stepped out, and he closed the door behind you. Dewdrop offered you his arm, and you took it gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Glancing over at Terzo and Angèle, who were already waiting by the front door, you and Dewdrop made your way to join them. Two of the Ghouls opened the grand entrance, allowing Terzo to enter first, followed by Angèle, who held Andras in her arms. You followed closely behind them, hand in arm with Dewdrop, taking in the vastness of the ministry. It exceeded your expectations in size and grandeur. The Halloween decorations added a whimsical touch to the solemn atmosphere, and the faint strains of music drifted to your ears from a distance. A sense of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you stepped further into the ministry, eager to immerse yourself in the evening's festivities.

"Dear," Angèle's voice reached your ear as you walked alongside Dewdrop.

"Yes, miss?" you responded, instinctively using a formal title.

"I already told you, you can call me by my name," Angèle chided gently. "Can you hold him for me?"

"I'm sorry, mi- Angèle," you corrected yourself and reached out to take Andras into your arms, handling him with care.

Terzo flashed you a warm smile, and they continued to make their way toward the music. You returned to Dewdrop's side, walking alongside him as the music grew louder, guiding you to a room with its doors wide open. A Ghoul approached and led the way, with Terzo and Angèle following closely behind.

"Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, and his beloved wife, Angèle, have arrived," the Ghoul announced at the door.

Terzo and Angèle entered the room, and you and Dewdrop followed suit. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of incredible. The room was filled with people, dancing, conversing, and enjoying themselves to the fullest. The colorful lights on the ceiling illuminated the space in a mesmerizing display. Halloween decorations adorned the room, and the lively disco music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was positively infectious.

Dewdrop turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "So, what do you think of all this?"

You couldn't contain your excitement as you looked around, taking in the grandeur of the event. "It's stunning! The ball is so grand, and there are so many people... I don't have words to describe it."

Dewdrop reached out and gently placed a hand on your lower back, leaning in closer to your ear. "I need to leave you now. I have to be around the ministry with the other Ghouls. Promise me you'll have fun, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at Dewdrop as he departed the room to attend to his duties. Your attention turned to Terzo and Angèle, who had moved farther away from you. Adjusting Andras in your arms as he began to wake up, you smiled down at the little one.

"Hello there, little one," you cooed, gently brushing your fingers across Andras's soft cheek. He responded with a radiant smile, accompanied by a symphony of baby sounds.

You made your way over to Terzo and his wife, who were standing near one of the tables adorned with a small paper sign that read "Papas." As you approached, someone came up behind you, and Terzo turned to face the newcomer.

"Fratello!" Terzo exclaimed, opening his arms and walking toward the person. "Where is your costume?"

Turning to see who it was, you found Secondo, one of Terzo's brothers, dressed in a very elegant dark green suit that emphasized all the curves and lines of his body, impeccably tailored to perfection. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. As he approached Terzo, they embraced warmly, and you couldn't help but notice how well Secondo carried himself in his stylish attire.

"I can't believe you didn't wear the costume I told you to," Terzo playfully chided as they pulled away.

"Terzo, I was not going to be Uncle Fester just because you asked me to," Secondo replied with a sigh.

"Why not, fratello? It would have been fun!" Terzo countered, clearly amused.

"Sì, for you, only," Secondo replied with a resigned tone. He then looked around and laid his eyes on you. "Oh, here he is! And who is this, signora?"

"She is our nanny," Angèle chimed in, going to your side and placing her hand on your back.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Papa," you said, extending your hand toward him, and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

"Il piacere è tutto mi," he replied with a charming smile, still holding your hand.

"Terzo!" another voice called from behind you, and you turned to see who it was.

"Primo!" Terzo exclaimed with a chuckle. "Fratello, hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso!"

Indeed, Primo was dressed as Uncle Fester, and you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He approached your group and hugged Terzo, just as Secondo had done earlier.

"See, fratello?" Terzo said, glancing at Secondo. "Primo has the Halloween spirit!"

"So you basically asked for the two of us to dress as Uncle Fester because you knew one of us would come as it?" Secondo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"One of you was bound to do it," Terzo replied teasingly.

"Cretino," Secondo muttered in a sharp tone, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Secondo," Primo said with a disapproving look, then turned his gaze to you. "And who is this bella signora?"

"This is Andra's nanny, fratello," Terzo clarified.

Primo approached you with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, bella," he said gently. "And it seems our piccolo demone is awake."

You smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you too, Papa. And yes, Andras is quite awake and lively right now."

Primo extended his arms, and you handed Andras over to him. "Ciao piccolo," he greeted with a smile. "Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone."

"Zio preferito? You wish, fratello," Secondo chimed in as he approached Primo. He extended his hand toward Andras, who eagerly clasped one of his fingers with his tiny hand, letting out a sweet giggle. "See? He knows who his zio prefereito is. He's even smiling at me."

"Smiling at you?" Primo countered with playful banter. "The bambino is laughing at you."

The brothers exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirit lightening the mood as Andras enjoyed their attention. You briefly averted your eyes to take in the lively atmosphere of the Halloween ball. The joyous spirit in the room was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel like you belonged there.

"Where is Copia?" Angèle inquired.

As you heard his name, your attention snapped back to the conversation. Angèle now had Andras in her arms, and Terzo was pulling out a chair for her to sit next to him. Secondo and Primo were already seated, and you quickly made your way to sit beside Angèle, hanging Andra's bag on the chair.

"He's somewhere around, we haven't seen him since we got here," Secondo replied.

You listened attentively, feeling a bit disappointed. Would you not have the chance to meet Copia tonight? Was he not going to attend the Halloween ball? You consoled yourself with the thought that you would likely encounter him during your stay at the ministry.

Suddenly, someone approached you from the side, and you let out a loud scream of horror, causing Andras to start crying. The person was covered with a white sheet, and your eyes widened in terror as you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

The person quickly removed the sheet, revealing Copia beneath it. "Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!"

Angèle got up from her seat with Andras still crying in her arms. You got up and rushed over to Angèle, who was trying to soothe the upset little one in her arms. You rushed to Andras' bag, located on your chair, and quickly retrieved his favorite plushie. Returning to Angèle, you presented it to Andras, attempting to comfort him, but it appeared to have little effect on his persistent crying.

Copia expressed his apologies, feeling genuinely remorseful for causing the commotion. "What have I done?" he said, addressing his brothers and Angèle.

"It's totally okay, it wasn't your fault," you reassured him, taking Andras into your arms.

"Terzo, please, give me his pacifier. It's in your blazer's pocket," Angèle requested.

Terzo promptly got up and retrieved the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Angèle. She gently placed the pacifier in Andras' mouth, successfully calming him down. She then took him back into her arms, also reaching for Andra's bag, hanging on your chair.

"I'm going to step outside with him for a bit," Angèle announced. "I'll be right back."

As Angèle left the room with Andras, you took a deep breath, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden scare. A hand on your back sent shivers down your spine, and you turned to see Copia standing beside you. You turned your face to find Copia standing there, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. He was even more striking in person, and you couldn't help but admire his presence. His voice was as charming as his appearance, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his concern evident in his voice.

In silence, you nodded, unable to find your voice as you continued to gaze at his captivating features. A smile graced his lips, and his hand gently squeezed your arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Bene, molto bene," he said, withdrawing his hand from your arm.

Copia offered a gentle smile, causing your cheeks to flush. He approached the table and pulled out your chair, signaling for you to sit down. You walked over to your chair and gracefully took your seat. Copia joined you, sitting right beside you, while Secondo audibly sighed and shook his head in response to the earlier playful banter.

"Secondo, non cominciare neanche," Primo warned him.

"Non stavo per dire niente," Secondo replied with a faint smirk.

Copia offered his sincere apologies. "Mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to scare the signora, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten my own nipote."

"It's okay; it was my fault. I wasn't expecting it," you reassured him in a gentle tone.

Terzo chimed in with a bit of humor, "Please don't kill our nanny. She's the only one who's stayed with us. You have no idea how hard it is to find a nanny when you tell them about being a retired satanic Papa."

Copia turned his body toward you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Again, mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to... you know... kill you."

You chuckled nervously. "I hope... not?"

"No, I didn't mean to say it that way," he stammered. "I- I mean, I meant that I didn't want to scare you with my costume to the point where you'd... well, you know."

"Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello," Secondo chimed in.

Your hand went to Copia's on your shoulder, and you held it delicately as you looked at him. "Papa, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you don't want to, you know, kill me, even though you're a very scary ghost, right?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly. "Sì, sì, I'm a scary ghost! Be careful, bella... sorella!" he said, straightening his body and trying to sound scary.

You made a frightened face and playfully let go of his hand. "Please, Papa, have mercy on me. I'm just a..." you furrowed your brows. "What did you call me again?"

"Sorella," he repeated, clarifying, "It's how we call the sisters, nuns, just like you tonight, in Italian."

You nodded and resumed your scary expression. "Please, Papa, I'm just a sorella today. I'm innocent!" you said, your tone with a hint like if you were truly scared by him.

Copia chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to have mercy today and not go after you to haunt you, but only this time."

"Oh, don't worry, Papa. You can come after me if you want," you said, leaning back in your chair.

Copia gasped, blushing deeply, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm sorry, Papa. I meant that I'm not that scared, and I won't mind to be haunted, you see? I'm very... I have a lot of courage!"

Copia nodded, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, he retrieved the sheet from the table and draped it over himself once more, hiding his face behind it. A silence sank between you two, and you felt like all of the brothers were looking straight at you. You couldn't feel more embarrassed than you did now.

"So, where is your costume, fratello?" Terzo asked, breaking the silence, his eyes playfully scanning Copia.

Copia, draped in a simple white sheet, spread his arms wide. "Eh, this is my costume," he declared.

Terzo couldn't help but chuckle. "No, this is just a sheet from the laundry room, probably. Come on, you two have no Halloween spirit," Terzo teased. "Only Primo followed my suggestion."

Secondo, looking dapper in his suit, shook his head in mock disapproval. "Terzo, if I dressed as you asked me, you'd have two Uncle Festers for your son."

Terzo laughed. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Curious, you turned to Copia, who stood beside you. "And what did Terzo ask you to dress as?"

Copia grinned mischievously. "Cousin Itt."

Secondo couldn't contain his laughter. "Cousin Itt!? Oh, fratello, I take back everything I said about your costume choices."

Copia leaned closer to you and whispered, "Still, Secondo didn't wear the costume Terzo picked out for him, coglione."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes locking onto his as you both shared a playful moment. The proximity and the fact that you could only see his eyes under the sheet added an unexpected intimacy to the situation. Your cheeks were flushed, and you wished you had a sheet to hide behind as well, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his. However, your attention shifted as Angèle as you notices her returning to the table, though without Andras.

"Hello, what have I missed?" she inquired as she took her seat right next to Terzo, pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

"I due che stanno flirtando," Secondo chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

"Lasciali stare, Secondo," Primo interjected.

"Non stavamo flirtando!" Copia quickly defended himself.

"Sì, stavate flirtando con lei," Terzo said with a smirk on the corner of his lips. "Where's Andras, cara mia?" he asked.

"I put him to sleep; he's being watched by Dewdrop now," Angèle explained.

"Oh, miss, do you want me to go there?" you offered, preparing to get up.

"You don't have to, dear, only if you want," Angèle replied.

"I insist; it's my job," you said, rising from your seat.

"In that case, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, miss."

"Angèle," she corrected.

"Angèle," you repeated.

With that, you politely excused yourself from the table. Copia got up after you, gracefully removing the sheet from himself and placing it on the chair. He then turned his body to face you. His hair was a little messy, and you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the view, for some reason it was charming.

"Wait, may I go with you?" Copia asked. "I want to see my nepote, and I'm afraid you don't know where you are going to stay during the week."

You were taken aback by his gesture. "Oh, that's very... gentle of you," you said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his offer. "Thank you, Papa."

Copia extended his arm toward you, and you hesitated for a moment before deciding to take it. The two of you walked away from the table, making your way toward the door leading to the chambers. Side by side, you and Copia entered the corridor, leaving the lively Halloween party behind.

You took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne as you did. It was a refreshing and almost mythical fragrance that captivated your senses. You smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the experience. You didn't want to forget this scent; you wanted to keep it in your memory, as it made you feel even closer to him.

Turning your face to him, you noticed that his hair was still slightly messy. Hesitantly, you extended your hand, expecting him to react, but he remained still. Gently, you reached out and smoothed his hair, your touch light and delicate.

"Thank you for coming with me, Papa," you said, glancing up at him with a warm smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring.

"I do," you insisted, gently squeezing his arm. "After all, this is one of your first parties as a Papa here at the ministry, right?" you inquired, a soft smile on your lips as you withdrew your hand from his hair.

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, sì, sì."

"So you are the principal attraction of tonight, Papa!" you teased playfully, your tone filled with light-heartedness.

Copia chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Eh... I must confess this is all new for me."

"Really? Is it different from when you were a Cardinal?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his experience.

"Not too much when it comes to responsibilities," he explained, his gaze focused ahead as he considered your question. "They've just escalated a little more, but I still do many of the things I used to do before."

"But how do you feel about being a Papa now?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixed on Copia.

"Eh... Honestly?" Copia began, hesitating for a moment. "I'm happy with it, but can you keep a secret?"

A sense of intrigue filled you, and you nodded with a reassuring smile. "All the secrets you feel like telling me."

He blushed deeply before opening up further. "I'm very scared."

"Scared? How? Why?" Your curiosity deepened.

"I'm too afraid that they will not like me as much as they liked Terzo, Secondo and Primo" Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing.

"Copia, you can't compare yourself with your brothers," you said gently, trying to ease his worries. "And if I were you, I wouldn't worry at all. They will love you."

"Do you think so?" Copia asked, his uncertainty still lingering.

"Oh, I don't think they will, I know they will," you replied with a reassuring smile, emphasizing your confidence in him.

Copia halted his steps, his inquisitive gaze locked onto yours. "Eh, how can you be so sure?" he asked.

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for everyone, but from what I've gathered about you through my interactions and what Terzo has shared, you come across as a gentle, kind-hearted, and dedicated man. Terzo spoke highly of your love for this place and your unwavering commitment to reaching this position. If this is something you've wanted for a long time, Papa, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Embrace it, and you'll excel in your role at the ministry."

Copia found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by your kind and comforting presence. Your eyes locked into each other, creating an intimate silence in the corridor. The distant music from the ball could still be heard. Copia raised his arm slightly, as if contemplating a gesture, but then he lowered it and offered a soft, appreciative smile.

The intensity of your gaze made his cheeks flush with a deep shade of red. If he were still in his costume, he was sure he'd feel exposed, as the heat in his cheeks was almost unbearable. He was thankful that at least his face was still adorned with paint. Especially because your warm eyes were still locked onto his.

"Grazie," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't deserve your kind heart."

You returned his smile and offered a reassuring nod. "You'll do great, Papa. Just believe in yourself."

Your eyes remained locked again in a wordless connection for a brief yet meaningful moment before Copia resumed walking, with you following closely. You two kept walking with your arms entwined, the comfortable silence enveloping you both. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the rhythmic echoes of your footsteps and the distant melody of the music from the ball. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closeness and ease, and you tightened your grip on his arm, silently cherishing the moment.

"So, can I ask to know more about you?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you responded timidly. "What do you want to know, Papa?"

"How long have you been working for my brother?" he inquired.

You glanced at him. "I've been with him for some months now, almost a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "And are you enjoying it?" he asked.

With a smile, you responded, "I am! Your brother is a very nice man, his wife is really sweet, and little Andras is amazing."

"If you don't mind to answer..." Copia's curiosity didn't wane as he inquired further, "How do you feel about our little lifestyle?"

"The Satanism?" you asked, seeking clarification, and he nodded in confirmation. "I don't mind it at all. I see no harm; it all looks very cheerful and great."

Copia's expression revealed a hint of surprise. "You don't feel scared being here surrounded by our unholy place?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. The only thing that scared me here today was you."

He sighed, showing genuine remorse. "Eh, about that... I really didn't want to scare you, not at all."

"I know, Papa. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you were just in your costume."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding. "Sì, it was just a costume, after all. But I'm glad you're not afraid of our unique surroundings, or of me."

You smiled warmly. "Honestly, I find it all quite fascinating."

Copia chuckled. "Fascinating? That's not a word I hear often in this context."

"Well, it's different, and different can be interesting," you explained.

"Just like your attire tonight," he said. "You chose a very unique costume for tonight," Copia observed, his eyes sweeping up and down your nun costume.

You glanced down at your outfit and replied, "Did I?"

"Sì, our siblings here also wear habits in their daily lives, but it's just a little bit different from yours. But don't worry, you are looking very beautiful as a sorella."

"Thank you, Papa," you laughed shyly.

Copia's compliment made you blush, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by his words. As the two of you continued down the corridor, you found yourself becoming more comfortable in his presence, enjoying his charming demeanor.

"May I ask one more question?" Copia inquired.

"You can ask all the questions you want, Papa," you replied.

Copia's cheeks took on a subtle flush as he chuckled with a hint of shyness, and he nodded. "Well, I just wanted to know your name. Would you tell me your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit bashful. As you shared your name with him, Copia's lips curved into a broad smile. He nodded and repeated your name in a soft, charming tone. Hearing him say your name felt like the highlight of your night. It had a different, special quality when spoken in his accent, and it made you feel even closer to him.

As you continued to walk down the corridors of the ministry, Copia's steps began to slow, hinting that you were nearing your destination. Finally, you and Copia reached the door to your temporary residence. Copia took the lead, positioning himself in front of you. With a gentle knock on the door, you both waited for a few moments. The door eventually swung open, revealing Dewdrop.

"Good evening, Papa," Dewdrop said. "How can I help you?"

"I came here with Andras' nanny and she will stay here with him until his parents come back," he said.

Dewdrop raised an eyebrow and looked past Copia at you. "Andra's nanny, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh and replied, "Don't mock me, Dewdrop."

Dewdrop chuckled and said, "I'm not mocking!"

"You're free to return to your duties now," Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course, Papa," Dewdrop said.

Dewdrop stepped aside, granting you and Copia access to the place. Copia made his first step, entering the chambers. However, as you moved to enter, Dewdrop unexpectedly held your hand, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. Copia turned his attention to Dewdrop and you.

"How was at the ball?" Dewdrop inquired.

"It was..." you hesitated for a moment. "fun."

"Fun?" Dewdrop leaned in closer, a teasing tone in his voice. "Why don't I believe that your 'fun' is real?"

"Because you like to mock me," you replied, playfully pouting.

Dewdrop chuckled and let go of your hand. "I'm not mocking you right now. I was just wondering if you had fun. But maybe we should talk..." he turned his gaze to Copia before continuing, "...tomorrow."

Copia observed your interaction with Dewdrop closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. You took a step into the chambers, with Copia staring at you. As you exchanged a small smile, you turned your attention back to Dewdrop, who remained outside the door. Copia positioned himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Dewdrop once more.

"Grazie, Dewdrop. We'll take it from here," he said.

Dewdrop gave a polite nod and closed the door behind you. You and Copia were now alone in there. You took a moment to look around, and your eyes widened in amazement. The room was much larger and more lavish than you had anticipated. Intricately designed works of art adorned the walls, and the color scheme was meticulously coordinated, creating an elegant and inviting ambiance that took you by surprise. You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail that had gone into decorating the room.

"Did you like it?" Copia inquired, gesturing for you to follow him further into the room.

"It's bigger than I expected," you admitted, glancing around in awe.

"It's going to be mine," he explained.

"Yours?" you questioned.

"Sì, this place was supposed to be mine for now, as it's the Papal apartment. However, I don't need this much space at the moment, so I thought it was better to give it to Terzo and his family, while I stay in my old chambers."

"Are you sure, Papa? I mean..."

"I'm completely sure, don't worry. Besides, my room has everything I need – a bed, a TV, my video game, and even my lava lamp," he said with a playful grin, noticing your intrigued expression.

"Did you say a lava lamp?" you asked, clearly fascinated. "I haven't seen one for so long!"

Copia's grin widened as he saw your excitement. "Sì. I find the shifting colors and blobs of lava oddly soothing."

"They are very... hypnotizing for sure," you said.

He laughed softly. "Let me show you to your room," Copia smiled warmly. "Follow me, cuoricina."

You nodded appreciatively as he led the way to your designated room. He extended his hand to open the door for you, and you acknowledged his gesture with another nod before stepping inside. As you entered the room, your eyes widened in astonishment. The room was decorated in warm, neutral colors, with a comfortable-looking bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Copia gestured towards the room. "This will be your room during your stay," he explained. "Please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

Eager to explore, you wandered around the room, but your curiosity drew you to the window. It was large and clear, and you pressed your hands against the cool glass, looking down at the vast garden below. Even in the darkness, the small lights scattered throughout the garden made it appear enchanting. As you gazed, a slight shiver ran down your spine, and your body tensed a bit as you felt Copia's warm hand on your lower back, his touch gentle and comforting.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his fingers gently rubbing your lower back.

As you turned your face towards him, your eyes met his. Copia's face was softly illuminated by the ambient light from outside the window, accentuating his handsome features. The moment felt like it stretched on for eternity, and you wished you could freeze time to continue gazing at him, to savor his touch a little longer. However, you couldn't just stand there in silence, no matter how much you wanted to.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "I loved it."

"I think this room has the best view of them all," he whispered, his eyes fixed on you.

"I think you're right, Papa," you whispered back.

Copia withdrew his hand from your back and concealed both of his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to the garden, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. But you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. For someone associated with a satanic church, he appeared ethereal and bathed in an inexplicable grace, as if touched by a blessing rather than something sinful.

"So you are friend with Dewdrop?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, well, I suppose we're friends of sorts," you replied. "He sometimes visits Terzo's house with ministry-related items.

"Eh! That's right," he nodded. "That makes sense."

You giggled, turning your body to face him. "He told me that he's one of the older ghouls here, and that's quite fascinating, to be honest."

"Fascinating?" he inquired.

"Yes, it's intriguing," you explained. "First, because he's been here for such a long time, and second, because he's also a Ghoul. I have no real understanding of what Ghouls are, but I have my theories."

Copia moved closer to you. "So, you find ghouls fascinating?"

"Yes, I do," you said with genuine curiosity. "I've always wondered where they come from."

Copia hesitated and then said, "I'm afraid I can't reveal that. It's a secret of the ministry."

You pouted and pleaded, "Really, Papa? You won't tell me?"

Copia couldn't resist your charm. He grinned playfully. "Well, alright. You see, when a Ghoul and a Ghoulette love each other..."

You burst into laughter, cutting him off. "Stop it! That's not how it happens!"

Copia chuckled at your reaction. "You're right, that's not how it happens, but I couldn't resist."

You playfully rolled your eyes, followed by a smile. "You're really not going to tell me, right?"

Copia shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could, trust me, but I can't."

"It's okay, Papa," you whispered, drawing nearer to him.

"Shall we head back to the party?" he suggested, his hand reaching for your hand.

"Uh... I can't, Papa. I need to stay here with Andras," you responded.

"Right! I completely forgot," he sighed. "I'm a lousy uncle."

"No, Papa, you're not," you reassured him. "I know you're an amazing uncle."

Copia's gaze remained locked with yours, and a brief silence hung in the air. He moved to say something, but just as he began to speak, the sound of Andras crying echoed from the room next door. Without hesitation, you swiftly exited the room and hurried into the adjacent one. There, you opened the door and approached the small crib. With gentle hands, you lifted Andras into your arms, comforting him as he cried.

With Andras in your arms, you gradually managed to calm him down, and his cries gradually transformed into soft, whimpering sounds. Copia watched the scene unfold from the doorway, his smile reflecting his appreciation for your comforting skills. It was a heartwarming moment as you continued to soothe the little one, both of you providing him with the care and attention he needed.

"Is he all right?" Copia asked as he walked over to you.

You turned to him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, he just needed a little attention. Babies can be quite sensitive, but they usually calm down with some care and comfort."

Copia nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Andras as he gently caressed the his head. "You're really good with him."

"I guess so," you replied, still holding Andras. "Are you awake to see your zio Copia?"

"Zio? Do you speak Italian?"

"Oh, not at all," you chuckled, gently rocking Andras. "But Terzo always talks about you three as his zio, so I just got used to it."

Copia chuckled at your response. "That's quite observant of you. Impressive."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a hint of pride.

Copia then extended his arms toward Andras. "So, before I go back to the party, can I hold my nepote a little bit?"

"Of course," you replied, gently passing Andras into Copia's waiting arms.

Copia's face lit up with a warm smile as he cradled Andras in his arms. The baby looked small and fragile in comparison to the tall and imposing figure of Copia, but there was a gentle tenderness in the way he held him. Copia's eyes were fixated on Andras, who gazed up at him with curious eyes. It was a heartwarming sight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you watched the two of them together.

"You look well with him in your arms," you remarked, your gaze fixed on the bonding pair.

"Do I?" Copia giggled softly. "I always heard I had a way with kids."

"I think you do too," you said with sincerity, a smile gracing your lips.

As you took a step closer to Copia and Andras, you gently reached for the baby's hand, feeling his tiny fingers wrap around one of yours. Copia's eyes met yours, and there was an unspoken connection between you two. You both shared a smile, and in that moment, you realized that Copia's presence was even more captivating in person than in any photograph. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his smile were something that couldn't be fully captured in pictures. You found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth and kindness in Copia's eyes.

However, the tender moment between you and Copia was suddenly interrupted by Andras's cries, breaking the connection you shared. Copia gently rocked the baby in his arms, trying to soothe him, while you reached out to touch Andras's tiny cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. Andras's cries filled the room, making it clear that he needed attention and care. Copia looked at you with a slightly apologetic smile as he continued his attempts to calm the baby.

"It seems like Andras prefers your company," Copia remarked, his voice filled with warmth as he tried to ease the baby's distress.

With that, Copia carefully handed Andras back to you, allowing you to resume your soothing efforts. You gently cradled Andras, who had started to show signs of drowsiness. You carefully walked over to the crib, and with a tender touch, you placed him back in it. Andras seemed to settle down once again, his eyelids growing heavier as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Copia watched the scene with a soft smile. "Grazie for taking care of m- him," he said, his tone a little nervous.

You turned to him with a warm smile. "It's my pleasure, Papa. And also, my job."

Copia nodded, leaning closer to the crib to admire his sleeping nephew. His fingers gently brushed over Andras's tiny hand, and a warm smile played on his lips. "I should head back to the party. But can I walk you to your chambers?"

"Papa, I'm already here, my room is right next door," you chuckled, stepping closer to him.

"Eh! Sì, sì, my silly mistake, sì?" He chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Papa!" you teased, playfully patting his arm. "Maybe my outfit is causing the confusion."

You reached for the veil of your nun costume, fingers deftly untangling the knot that held it in place. As you removed the costume piece, Copia's gaze briefly fell upon you, but he quickly averted his eyes, fixating on some unseen point in the room.

"Better now?" you asked.

Copia turned his gaze back to you, his eyes tracing your figure from head to toe. He took a deep breath and nodded. There was a hint of a word that he seemed to hold back. You giggled and decided to distract yourself by tucking Andras into his crib. After turning off a nearby lamp, you walked back towards Copia, stopping in front of him.

"Maybe I can walk you to the front door?" you offered, reaching for his shirt and adjusting it neatly around his neck.

Copia looked at your hand and then nodded thoughtfully. You both left Andras's room, quietly closing the door behind you. Walking together down the corridor, your footsteps produced a faint echo on the polished floors. Approaching the front door, you hesitated for a moment. You stopped in front of it and your hand hovered over the doorknob. You glanced at Copia, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared at you.

"Thank you again for accompanying me, Papa," you expressed, your voice sincere and appreciative.

Copia blinked as if snapping out of a reverie, his attention returning to you. "Oh, mi dispiace," he responded, his voice gentle. "I was momentarily lost in thought. You were saying?"

"I was thanking you," you reiterated, a faint smile on your lips. "For coming with me and for letting us stay in your Papal apartment."

Copia offered you a warm smile in return. "You're most welcome. It was a pleasure to be of assistance. I hope you and Andras have a pleasant night."

With that, Copia stepped through the open door into the corridor, and you leaned against the doorframe, your eyes fixed on his retreating figure. Copia turned his body back to you and paused for a moment, contemplating something. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for yours, holding it.

"I hope you find your room comfortable. If there's anything you need or any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the Ghouls. We're here to make your time at the ministry enjoyable If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask," he said with a reassuring tone. "And remember, you can always reach me."

Copia brought your hand closer to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. You nodded, blushing deeply at his words, and bit your lower lip, trying to contain your emotions. Taking a deep breath, you offered him a warm smile. As he released your hand, his lips lightly brushed against your skin, and you felt his grip tighten. Your breath caught in your throat, but you fought to maintain your composure.

“Of course, Papa. Have a great time at the party, and don’t scare anyone else with your costume," you playfully remarked.

Copia chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Arrivederci, bella sorella.”

“Arrivederci, Papa,” you replied as he turned to leave, heading back to the Halloween party.

Copia came to a sudden halt, turning his head to look back at you over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned and strolled down the corridor. As he gradually disappeared from your sight, you closed the door gently. Leaning against the door, you took a deep breath, your eyes closed, and you bit your lower lip slightly. There was no doubt about it – Copia was even more captivating in person than in the photos.

Grammar

Ho tentato: I tried

Fratello: Brother

Sì: Yes

Signora: Lady

Il piacere è tutto mio: The pleasure is all mine

Hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso: You have the spirit of Halloween! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!

Cretino: Idiot

Bella signora: Beautiful lady

Piccolo demone: Little demon

Ciao piccolo: Hello, little one

Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone: Your favorite uncle missed you, my little demon

Zio preferito: Favorite uncle

Bambino: Child

Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!: Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Non cominciare neanche: Don't even start

Non stavo per dire niente: I wasn't going to say anything

Mi dispiace profondamente: I'm deeply sorry

Nepote: Nephew

Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello: Maybe it would be best if you stop trying to justify yourself, brother

Coglione: Idiot

I due che stanno flirtando: The two of them flirting

Lasciali stare: Leave them alone

Non stavamo flirtando!: We weren't flirting!

Sì, stavate flirtando con lei: Yes, you were flirting with her

Cara mia: My dear

Grazie: Thank you

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Taglist: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @enchantedbunny @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @da-rulahh @th4t-em0-k1d @citrusbunnies @copias-sewer-rat @reeeebeeee @ghostfangirlsweden @copiaspet6222 @lilylovesdew @quaildoodle @fluffysourpatch @terzossoapbar @x1nd1g0x @fantasticdeercollection

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 4 months ago

Note

Hello I see your requests are opne and I'd like to know if you could do something with a grumpy Secondo, like, him giving y/n a bouquet but not admitting it at all or not making a big deal of it. His tsundere ass can't help it.

i . am . so . SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER ANON ILYSM 😭💕 i just got super busy after break 😓

masterlist.

warnings/things to note: no pronouns used for reader, established relationship, Secondo doesn't know how to express his feelings, fluff, idk how to write Secondo well ahhhh 😞

word count: 790

To say Secondo was hard to love was an understatement. Not to say he was a complete outright dick- which he wasn't, he was a real sweetheart under his cold exterior he'd built for himself- he just didn't know how to express his feelings other than small gestures.

You welcomed it wholeheartedly; you adored the little gifts he would hide for you as you cleaned up his catastrophically messy office space. Most of them were little handwritten notes of praise, but when you fawned over them in front of him, he merely grumbled, "It's no big deal..." or "Please, it's just a little thing of encouragement..." and returned to his work.

He was never too big on receiving gifts from you, either. He claimed he already has everything he could possibly need, yet he keeps a shoebox of your smaller gifts in one of his file cabinets under his desk.

When your anniversary started to come around, he explicitly told you not to get him any gifts. However, you couldn't possibly resist getting him the emerald-encrusted watch he'd paused to stare at through the window as you were on a date at the mall. In your mischievousness, a few days later (and with the help of a few ghouls' allowances), you'd put it on hold until your anniversary came closer.

A whirlwind of butterflies flew in your stomach as you finally purchased the watch and told the worker to take extreme care as they wrapped it in black wrapping paper, adding a sage bow and label fro you to sign on top. It would just look dazzling with his Papal robes, you giggled to yourself as you imagined him with his gift, not saying anything yet flexing it to his brothers.

You drove back to the Ministry, the gift hidden in a small bag. However, as you made your way to his office, a Sibling stopped you and rushed you to your own working space, an enormous bouquet of your favorite flowers towering on top of your wooden desk. On top of it all, a card sat with your name written in perfect penmanship and green ink.

You gasped, heart swelling with adoration. You instantly opened the card and read the contents.

"My sweet one, I heard from the earth ghouls that these were your favorite flowers. I know I explicitly told you not to get gifts, but since it is our anniversary, my brothers persuaded me. Please don't cause too much of a scene. Ti amo tanto, Amore. Happy Anniversary. - S."

Oh, how you almost fell in love with him all over again. You had to contain your fangirl squeal as you hugged the bouquet and sniffed the flowers delicately.

The other Siblings around you collectively cooed and aww'ed at the gift, some even pulling their partners aside and whispering that their standards just got higher. However, as a few Siblings came up to you asking if they can take a single flower to help take away the absolute mess on your desk, you got pulled back to earth and remembered that you haven't given your gift to Secondo yet, which sent you racing down the hall towards the Papas' offices.

You arrived at his door, knocking twice gently before entering after a gruff "come in." Secondo's hard demeanor softened ever so slightly at the sight of you, but hardened immediately after he saw your bag.

"My sweet, I said no-"

"I wanted to thank you for the bouquet," you cut him off, causing his cheeks to darken a little under his paints.

"I... it's nothing." He replied with a soft grumble. "Really."

"It's not nothing," you stepped towards him, a sweet smile gracing your lips. "It's a perfect anniversary gift."

He scoffed and murmured under his breath, but stopped as you held out the wrapped box. "What is this?"

"It's your present."

"I don't want it."

"Please, Secondo. Open it, you'll like it!" You urged, to which he scoffed and read the tag, silently unwrapping the gift.

His dark gaze softened again as he opened the box, his expression turning to one of a child in a toy store's. He was speechless as his gloved fingers traced the design of the emerald watch, then cleared his throat once he realized you were staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Erh... thank you. It's very nice," he said genuinely, sliding the watch out of the box and onto his wrist. "It fits perfectly, too; how- how did you know that?"

You shrugged, a devious smirk on your face as you hugged him. "I have my ways. Happy anniversary, my love."

He returned the hug, holding you tightly to his chest as your ear listened to his heartbeat. "Happy anniversary."

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #fluff #papa secondo #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #secondo emeritus #papa emeritus secondo #papa emeritus 2 #papa emeritus ii x reader #ghulehthezombiequeen #ghost secondo #secondo x reader #papa emeritus #daddy secondo #ghuleh's requested

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anamelessfool · 5 months ago

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Secondo dutifully took the athame from Sister. The congregation watched the ties fall, one by one. The many physical ties transmuted into one impenetrable, astral bond. They were beholden no longer to the will of those around them. The couple stood together, withstanding the entire world.

Secondo and his bride Sandra at their handfasting, from my Terzomega fic "Ribbons and Ties" (AO3)

Illustrated beautifully by @quaildoodle 💚

#papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x oc #quaildoodle #ghost scenes from the void #domestic fluff #ghost fandom #ghost band fanfic #papa secondo

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inkstainedrat · 1 month ago

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A Secondo x Reader Fic

Word Count: 1900

Content: Sensual fluff with references to sexual activities and anatomy, so as with the rest of my page MDNI

(Apologies if the formatting is bananas, this is another mobile upload)

+ no beta here, forgive any errors

Enjoy!💚

“Any excuse to get me out of my clothes, isnt that true piccolina?”

You give Secondo a playful shove as he gets comfortable, laying face down in the spot on the bed where you had cleared the pillows away, save for his favorite which he now rests his cheek on.

He watches as you putter about the room with last-second final touches- dimming the lights and pulling up one of the playlists that you originally made to help him de-stress while in the office.

When you turn back to join him on the bed he’s waiting there patiently, luciferian eyes crinkled at the corners from how he’s smiling at you.

“It doesn’t seem fair that you still have so many clothes on.”

He’s clad in only his favorite underwear (the ones with the flame pattern that you had bought him as a joke during the last Yule gift exchange) while you still wear the comfy clothes you had changed into the moment you both got home.

You remind Secondo that it’s his turn to be pampered for a change and that his current state of undress is necessary.

He clicks his tongue at you in displeasure and you decide to meet the big baby at least partway, stepping out of your pajama bottoms and flashing him your soft emerald panties before climbing up behind him to straddle his waist.

He dutifully plants his face in the pillow, knowing you’re about to get started- though he of course mutters something naughty that you don’t quite catch into the silk pillowcase as he feels your heat on the small of his back.

You shake your head ruefully before taking a moment to just sit there and gaze at him.

Taking in the expanse of his powerful back and strong neck, not to mention the delightfully furred arms flung out to take over almost the entirety of the bed.

Beneath you is the steady rise and fall of his breathing, he laying deceptively docile between your thighs, a strong and loyal animal, waiting patiently for your touch.

Well- patient to a point.

After a few moments of your quiet contemplation of his body beneath yours, Secondo unexpectedly bucks his hips a tiny bit, jolting you out of your reverie as he turns his head to glimpse you over his shoulder.

“Amore”

It isn’t quite a whine, but it’s enough that you give him a reassuring pat on the head, shifting your posture slightly forward to indicate that you’re ready to begin.

You nudge his head forward once more (confirming that he can still breathe with his face against the pillow) and rub your hands together to generate heat before placing them at the back of his neck.

He groans immediately and you grin at the sound, finding a good rhythm as you knead at the soft skin.

Your fingertips press firmly on either side of where his spine sits, running up and down along the length as he tucks his chin, stretching out to help you further work at the tension that he holds in this column of flesh.

It’s one of the spots that tends to reawaken its dull inflammation whenever he’s had trouble sleeping so you take your time with it until you can feel him noticeably soften and are satisfied enough to move on.

Next comes one of the areas you love the best- his strong shoulders and the biceps that remain unchanging and impressive over the years no matter how inactive he may claim to be since his retirement.

He may not be adhering to the regimen of a Papa on tour but you’ve still seen this proud old man aiding volunteers hauling sacks of flour into the kitchen and helping his brother wrestle with stubborn weeds in the greenhouse.

Pressing firmly with the heels of your palms you knead at the swell of his shoulders, increasing the pressure just enough to cause him to let out a small grunt whenever you encounter a stubborn knot.

A spot on his right side in particular causes you to pause when he lets out a muffled hiss against the emerald silk.

Shifting to the side, you retrieve a small jar from the nightstand and unscrew the cap.

Dipping a finger into the salve, you relocate the problem area and daub on a small amount, breathing in the subtle peppery smell that will eventually give way to the cooler, mintier scent as the initial heat gives way to the soothing components.

You had briefly considered utilizing one of the bottles of aromatic oils but had ultimately decided not to, not wanting to deal with the sensory nightmare that would be the inevitable aftermath- the two of you laying breathless amidst oily silk sheets.

As you replace the jar, Secondo reaches his hand up to catch yours, turning to press a lingering kiss to it in a wordless thanks.

You return the gesture with a kiss of your own to his temple before you scoot back to resume your task.

Shifting backwards a bit, you move your hands down to the middle of his back, applying full- palm pressure to the larger muscles and alternating to your fingertips as you work up and down on either side of his spine.

When faced with his back you always find yourself charmed by the constellation of marks and so-called ‘imperfections’ found there.

Freckles dotted here and there amidst the occasional scar (one of which, a crescent shaped one that you can’t help but adore as you were the one who caused it during a very memorable birthday of yours).

The few fine whisps of hair at the top of his shoulders that he will get fed up with every couple months and pluck like mad- a stark contrast to the way he cares for the other areas of the lovely hair that adorns the rest of his body.

A decades- faded birthmark near his right shoulder blade that he swears looks like some occult symbol, but to you more closely resembles a half-crushed daisy (much to his chagrin).

And these last few years have seen the addition of the palest slivers of stretch marks at his lower back, beginning to circle around to the front- something he bemoans but you always reassure him fourteen ways from Friday that he is a handsome stallion of an Italian man and to limit carbs is to limit sin itself- and would he really want to do something so blasphemous as to dishonor his unholy position?

That argument always earned you a laugh and some very grateful and well-placed love bites.

Finishing up in the middle, you shuffle back farther until you’re perched on his rump, causing him to buck his hips once more, giving you a playful growl when you pull and snap the waistband of his underwear in retaliation.

He rumbles something naughty into the silk once more but has grown relaxed enough by your touches that he can’t even be bothered to lift his head about it.

Rubbing your hands together once more, you generate as much heat from the friction as you and bear because you know this is the area where he will appreciate it the most.

Finally you reach down and just press your hands fully against his lower back, letting him absorb the heat.

The moan Secondo lets out at that is borderline pornographic and you rub soothing little circles against his flesh with your thumbs as you continue to keep your palms flat against him, letting him know that you understand his need, you’re here and you’ve got him.

Aside from his shoulders, his lower back is where this Papa holds the bulk of his tension.

No matter how much you tell him to take it easy, he always manages to get laid up by this spot every couple months. Bending over in the greenhouse for hours,he lets his concern for his brother outweigh his needs every time and pays for it dearly when it finally catches up to him.

Sitting locked in his office chair for days at a time when a windfall of mysterious paperwork comes calling will inevitably cause him to stiffen up if he doesn’t remember to get up and walk around now and again.

Once or twice he has even managed to overdo it when it came to sex, but in these instances he swore up and down that it had been worth it and would go right into the pit rather than complain.

Moving your hands now, you work his flesh into putty beneath your touch, each movement earning you a rhythmic moan of approval from the brilliant, stubborn man beneath you.

“Amore mio, you have no idea… none whatsoever just how fffucking good that feels.”

You chuckle at him, loving as always just how sweet and appreciative he sounds.

Of course he is sweet to you plenty, but a special note enters his voice whenever you do this for him.

Its reverent and breathless and oh so loving.

You spend the most time in that spot, taking only a brief break to toy with him in a way that you both love-

Using the very tips of your fingernails, you skim the most featherlight infrequent touches in a random trail up and down along his whole back.

The idea is to barely touch him, eliciting a feeling of ticklish, almost itchy sensations in an unpredictable pattern.

You love drawing it out, watching his muscles twitch and flex as you just barely touch him- until finally you do nice rough, luxurious scratches up and down the length of his back like you would for a loyal dog who has just done a good job.

And like the magnificent animal he is, Secondo always lets out a guttural groan in relief when the itch is banished by your skilled touches.

You go through this routine with him now and have only just finished the process when he surprises a yelp out of you by suddenly arching up and rolling over.

He quickly grips your hips, lest you be dethroned by his movements, and with a wicked grin he seats you right back down against his barely clothed and hardening cock.

His eyes are glazed from the massage and the cover from the dim lights thanks to the pillow that had cradled his face.

But the twinkle that is there is undeniable. Especially when paired with what is currently nudging at you from beneath just two thin layers of cloth. You know exactly what he wants.

But you’re overcome suddenly by just the sight of him, this man that you so adore, whose flesh you are so intimately familiar with.

Reaching down, you place your thumbs against the outer sides of his eyebrows, just near to his temples.

He raises them slightly, puzzled and parting his lips on a question, but is quickly silenced when you start rubbing slow circles along his brow, pressing carefully.

His eyes quickly shut and a deep sigh leaves his open mouth as you manipulate the tense ridges.

“Amore you are too good to me.”

You shush him as you work, still unable to take your eyes away from his handsome face, so bewildered that this is the man you’re sharing your life with.

You both freely offer up words of affirmation to one another as a source of affection, but you’ve managed to hone your understanding of his body and its needs to a degree that it’s one of your favorite ways to show him how much he means to you.

You really hope he can tell.

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luciferscowgirl · 27 days ago

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— “Never to Return” —

60 chapter smutty slow burn

Catholic virgin x Cardinal Copia

Hello guys!

I can finally say that I have successfully finished writing my 200.000 words slow burn “Never to Return”, where a young Woman of God escapes the restraints of her Catholic upbringing with the help of our beloved Cardinal Copia. Throughout the story, unexpected things happen, and we will learn more about the characters’ pasts. Things turn sinful…, in every way.

Read it here (AO3) or click the link in the title. It is 18+, so MDNI, please!

Thank you all! 💓

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ghulehunknown · 6 months ago

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Clergy Headcanons - Proposals!

Rated G - Purely fluff! Gender neutral reader

How I think the head members of the Clergy would propose to you 😌

(inspired by Älva’s Papa engagement ring post!)

Primo

Very romantic

He asked a parental figure/someone important in your life for your hand (well, at least told your loved one(s) beforehand to give a semblance of traditionality)

Plans a picnic with all your favorite foods, and he brought your favorite roses and other pretty flowers from his garden. He actually secretly grew a special engagement bouquet just for you!

He doesn’t get down on one knee because of his arthritis, but proposes while you’re both sitting down

The ring is very traditional and likely passed down for generations in his family. He’s been waiting a whole lifetime to give it to you 🥺

Secondo

Whatever he has planned, it’s completely with your personality in mind - whether you are more inclined for something quiet or a something with a little more opulence

But it’s probably something a little more lowkey, like after a lovely dinner that he cooks for you. He may not be one for grand gestures but he does know how to make you feel very special

He has a very romantic, although not super long, speech before he gets down on one knee and hands you the most wonderful ring you’ve ever seen

The ring is beautiful, but dark - much like him. It’s probably got some black star sapphires in it or something, and the band is made from tungsten or titanium because it’s durable and lasting like his love for you

Terzo

He…may or may not have proposed impulsively one evening after a date because he got excited…then remembered he’s Terzo and vows to do better with a surprise later. (Eloping isn’t out of the question for him)

He plans a grand day out doing all your favorite activities before coming back to the Ministry which is decorated to the max and all your loved ones are there in attendance

He gets down on one knee and gives an elaborate, moving speech and promises you the world

The ring is GORGEOUS and extravagant and must’ve cost a fortune. But your love is priceless, so a silly little price tag doesn’t stop him (don’t worry, he paid full price and didn’t use the Papa discount; he makes sure you know that)

He definitely planned a flashmob for you with Siblings and Ghouls dressed in tuxedos and wedding dresses, but waves them off after he sees how overcome with emotion you are

Can’t wait for you to see the second part…alone in his room, because you have to “christen the engagement”

Copia

Oh god he’s nervous AF, he’s sweating and stumbling. He doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s been planning it for a long time. He knew you were the one the day he met you

He takes you back to the spot you had your first date. You can tell something is up because he’s acting a little funny

He definitely messes up his little speech he has prepared but he says something like: “You will never walk alone”

He’s so, so sweet and everything is perfect no matter how nervous you both are 🥺

He gets down on one knee and everything and you feel like the most special person in the world, because to him you are

He gives you a traditional, but absolutely beautiful ring. It’s probably got diamonds or your birthstone in it. He’s not a fully traditional man, but for things as important as this he doesn’t want to miss a beat

He’s ready to start planning the wedding!

Nihil

“Here,” and hands you the ring

He probably proposes immediately after you have an argument in attempt to makeup and show you he still wants you

The ring is simple, but durable. It’s probably solid gold, because to him you’re golden

Afterwards he takes you out to your favorite restaurant then a drive in movie (it reminds him of the good ol’ days)

Sister Imperator (bonus round!)

Very methodical and planned to a T

Lots of beautiful decorations

The speech is simple and to the point, as she often is, so there’s really no way to get lost in flowery language. You know what she wants, and it’s you and her forever

“We would be good together, don’t you think?” she’d say with her all-knowing smirk

She hands you a sturdy stainless steel ring and got herself one to match

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ink-and-dagger · 2 years ago

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Sour Dreams (and Sweet Papas)

Four short, fluffy drabbles for how I believe each Papa Emeritus would react to their partner waking suddenly from a nightmare.

Soft and Fluffy || Established Relationships || 350ish words for each Papa || Primo || Secondo || Terzo || Copia || GN!Reader || SFW

Your mind crashes through the hazed barriers of sleep and you awaken with a jolt, your ragged inhale catching inside sharply inflated lungs.

The taloned fingers of your nightmare retract and fade, leaving you blinking at the ceiling in a chilled sweat, with your heart pounding a mile a minute.

The mattress shifts beside you, and a sleep-crusted hum rumbles through the dark.

“Just a bad dream,” you breathe, answering your partner’s unspoken question, “Go back to sleep, honey.”

Several beats of pointed silence pass in which you can feel the weight of Primo’s quiet scrutiny.

“I’m fine,” you insist shakily, unsure why you’re even bothering to lie when you know full well that this man of yours is freakishly attuned to your energy.

The bed creaks under his shifting weight, and his shadow looms over you as he reaches across to your nightstand and retrieves a little round vial nestled between your pile of half-read books and your lamp. He uncorks it with a flick of his thumb.

A small huff of resigned laughter breezes from your nose at the familiar smell of lavender oil; pressed from the very plants grown in Primo’s beloved garden.

Your lashes flutter at the gentle touch of his fingertips — carefully applying a light smudge of oil to each temple, before swiping the remainder across your sternum. The delicate floral scent combined with the tender touch of your partner proves to be the perfect balm for your frayed nerves, and your tension ebbs; muscles melting into the mattress beneath you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, as Primo reaches across you once more to deposit the oil back on the nightstand.

But his shadowed figure doesn’t disappear from above you, instead his knuckles drop to your brow to brush a curving sweep down the side of your face; a touch as soothing as his lowered voice.

“I will watch over you until you drift off again, cuore mio.”

Your mind crashes through the hazed barriers of sleep and you awaken with a jolt, your ragged inhale catching inside sharply inflated lungs.

The taloned fingers of your nightmare retract and fade, leaving you blinking at the ceiling in a chilled sweat, with your heart pounding a mile a minute.

The reverberation of Secondo’s power-tool worthy snoring stalls and halts at your side, as he too awakens with a confused utterance of your name.

“Sorry,” you breathe into the darkness, “Bad dream. I didn’t mean to disturb you—”

Your last word pitches up to a surprised squeak as a strong arm scoops around your waist and drags you across the mattress; slotting your back neatly against his front. He adjusts the duvet next – tucking it high and snug beneath your chin, before winding his arms tightly around you beneath the covers. He even goes so far as to hook one his legs over yours, gathering you against himself as close as possible. Your partner, and a warm, human cocoon all in one.

“There. You see?” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair, “Now nothing bad can get to you, because it will have to get through me first.”

A tiny smile touches your lips, and you nestle further back into his embrace, “You’ll protect me? Promise?”

“Sempre, il mio amore. With my life.”

You dip your chin to brush a kiss to the knuckles resting over your heart, whilst the man behind you settles into silence once more. His powerful snores resume within a matter of seconds.

But despite the loving roll of your eyes, its familiarity comforts you. And, as promised, he holds you tight within his protective embrace until the moon slinks away over the horizon.

Your mind crashes through the hazed barriers of sleep and you awaken with a jolt, your ragged inhale catching inside sharply inflated lungs.

The taloned fingers of your nightmare retract and fade, leaving you blinking at the ceiling in a chilled sweat, with your heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Dolcezza?”

You drop your cheek to the pillow and find a pair of bright, mismatched eyes gazing right back at you through the darkness.

“Bad dream,” you breathe. Your brows knit to a frown as you add, “Were you already awake?”

“Bad dreams?” Terzo tuts, voice a deep-toned tease. He slinks close beneath the covers, half shrouding you with the warm press of his body, “No no no. Bad dreams are not allowed. Only good dreams when you are in Papa’s bed, sì?”

Your head tips back of its own accord as he dips beneath your jaw to drag a line of lingering kisses up your throat; full, sensual lips and roving hands doing absolutely nothing to help your already racing pulse.

“It’s not something I have much control over unfortunately,” you chuckle, capturing his chin between your thumb and forefinger to force him to look you in the eye, “But I think you understand that, don’t you?”

The cheeky curl on Terzo’s lips falters.

“Avoiding a question is an answer in itself, sweetheart,” you chide softly.

He empties his lungs through his nose, and flops down beside you; his raven hair a tousled, midnight halo upon the pillow. Satanas he looks so damn tired.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, turning on your side to face him.

“Yes, cara,” he responds quietly, raising a hand to softly brush a few stray hairs away from your face, “Are you okay?”

You nod, even though your heart aches to note the shadows which haunt his eyes – both in the hollows below, and within their dual-toned depths. You shuffle closer, until your knees bump and your noses touch.

You twine your fingers with his, “So let’s be okay together.”

Your mind crashes through the hazed barriers of sleep and you awaken with a jolt, your ragged inhale catching inside sharply inflated lungs.

The taloned fingers of your nightmare retract and fade, leaving you blinking at the ceiling in a chilled sweat, with your heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Mnhuhchecosa? Is everything alright?” Copia’s startled, sleep-slurred question punctures the darkness at your side.

“Yes,” you exhale, unable to help your small, huffed chuckle. Truly, you’ve never known anyone quite so endearing as your partner, “Did I scare you? I’m sorry. Bad dream is all.”

“Oh Tesoro,” he breathes, with a level of sorrow so disproportionate for such a trivial thing as a nightmare – like he can’t bear your pain in even the smallest amounts, “Come here to me.”

He lifts the covers, and you shift eagerly over into his waiting embrace. Pillowing your head upon his chest and hitching a leg over his in order to press as close against his side as humanly possible. Yet he somehow manages to gather you even closer still, closing even the smallest of gaps left between you.

His fingers drop to brush through your hair, and he coos soothing, nonsensical noises beneath his breath. You melt, releasing a contented sigh into the crook of his neck and tracing an idle fingertip over the triple-6 tattoo upon his pectoral.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks gently.

You shake your head and nestle deeper against him, “Just a stupid dream,” you grumble.

“Stupid,” he agrees bitterly.

The moments pass in warm, comfortable silence. That is, until your partner begins to hum; soft as a summer breeze. He sings so quietly that some notes are no more than mere whispers of air, leaving gaps in the familiar melody that you fill inside your mind. Life Eternal.

You smile against his skin, and wind your arm just a little tighter around his middle. It isn’t long until you’re drifting – coaxed towards a warm, liminal place of rest by the tones of Copia’s lullaby, and by the steady, metronome beat of his heart beneath your ear.

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whiskeyghoul · 5 months ago

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Whiskeyghoul masterlist 2.0

Criminal minds

Spencer Reid master list

Aaron Hotchner master list

Others

Ghost band

Papa Emeritus II master list

Xmen

Logan Howlett/Wolverine TBA

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ghost-in-the-hall · 2 years ago

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One Stormy Evening (Secondo x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Inspired by @ramblingoak Tumblr. Picture by @novaiisk . This is my first time writing smut, please be gentle with me lol.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, lots of fluff with a big bit of smut in the middle. Fingering, oral sex (F. Receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, slightly dom!Secondo

You hummed quietly to yourself, your attention focused through your magnifier as you worked on restoring a piece of artwork that had been found deep within the storage system of the Abbey. You were the ministry's leading archival specialist which meant any important artwork or ancient copies of scriptures went through your caring hands before they were cataloged and put away with the other relics. "Well you certainly seem busy today little one." A smile forms on your lips at the all too familiar nickname.

"Papa, how are you this evening?" You look up from your work to see Secondo gazing at you from a nearby set of shelves.

"I'm well my dear, thank you for asking." The faintest glimpse of a smile can be seen on his lips. He motions to the painting in front of you. "Would it be alright if I take a look?"

"Of course Papa." You motion him over to your side. "I've just about finished with this one, someone dropped off an entire crate of old paintings that were found today." He marvel's at the piece that sat spread out before you. Your talented hands were able to lift the deepest aging, restoring even the most fragile of pieces to their original beauty.

"I never cease to be amazed by your work tesoro." You can't help but blush at the direct complement. Secondo lowered his face next to yours, peering through the magnifier to see the details. His gaze suddenly turns to you, mismatched eyes pinning you in your spot. A gloved hand moves up to your face, thumb carefully running over what you were sure were dark circles under your eyes. "When was the last time you took a break?" You didn't want to answer him, you had started on this particular piece almost 14 hours ago now, only taking a couple minutes here and there to rest your eyes. You just simply shrug at his statement. He sighs, reaching over to turn off the light you were working under. "Come with, I think you've earned the rest of the night off." You let out a small giggle as he takes your hands in his and guides you from your seat, placing one of your hands in the crook of his arm as he begins walking with you.

"Papa?" He lets out a soft hum, eyes not leaving their position where they were trained on the path ahead. "Thank you for coming to check on me, you didn't have to do that."

"I'll be honest with you. I know how long you've been working." He mulls over his words for a moment. "I've been in the library all day doing translations, I haven't seen you take a single break… Call me soft, but you worry me sometimes." He lets out a faint chuckle. You both pause as you reach a fork in the hallways. If you took one hall it would bring you down to the wing where Secundo's quarters resided. Down the other was where your dorm was located. "Tesoro, would you indulge this old man and join me in my quarters this evening?" You weren't sure if you had heard him correctly or not. Anxiety growing with every second you remained quiet he proceeded to explain himself further. "I would like to take it upon myself to ensure that you have a hot meal tonight. Besides," he clears his throat, his eyes still not meeting yours, "I enjoy your company, I would like to spend some more time with you, if that's alright."

"As long as I'm not imposing Papa… spending some more time with you would be nice." You smile warmly at him, his gaze finally landing on you.

"You could never impose my dear. Every moment spent with you is a welcomed one." You smile, hugging his arm for a moment to show you appreciate what he said. Secondo was a man of few words, something that had always made you curious about him. He seemed completely content just existing within your space. If the two of you happened to find yourselves in the library at the same time he would always manage to be sitting a couple tables away from you. The two of you worked in separated silence while you both managed to keep each other within view. You would occasionally find yourself in his office, checking up on the plants that Primo had gifted to him, being careful not to disturb him while he completed his daily paperwork. Every so often he would chime in, attention never leaving his desk as he spoke. "I'm not sure if I'm giving that one enough water, I thought the leaves looked a bit brittle." You would check the soil and the overall health of the plant and reassure him that he was doing just fine. It was small moments like that that would always put a smile on your face. You couldn't help but shudder at the sound of the wind roaring outside.

"Bad storm tonight, huh?" Secondo nods.

"It's supposed to go on all night." You jumped at the sound of thunder outside, tightening your grip slightly on his arm. Secondo places his free hand on top of yours in a comforting gesture. Upon finally making it to his quarters he keeps you close, placing his hand on the small of your back as he unlocks his door and ushers you inside. "Please, have a seat, I'll put the kettle on." You sunk into the warm, worn leather of his couch as you watched Secondo move about his quarters. After a few moments he returned to the room with two cups of tea, he set them gently on the table in front of you. Another crack of thunder caused you to jump. You looked out the window, subconsciously wringing your hands in the process. Maybe you should have just gone back to your dorm. Regardless of how much you wanted to spend time with Secondo, the fact that you were scared by such a thunderstorm of all things made you feel embarrassed. "Tesoro, are you alright? You look nervous."

"I'm fine Papa, it's just-" before you could finish your thought, thunder shook the room, the lights going out all at once plunging you into complete darkness. You reached out for Secondo, grabbing blindly in the blackness that now consumed your vision until your fingers finally found the soft fabric of his Papal Robes. You felt his hand slide over yours, picking it up gently as he guided himself closer to you.

"It's okay little one, your Papa's right here." His voice was soft, warm breath fanning over your face alerting you to just how close to you he actually was. You felt his arm slowly slip around your waist, hesitant touches that showed he wasn't positive on how you would react. "I was going to light some candles, but if it will make you more comfortable I'll stay right by your side."

"I'll come with you." He stood, never breaking physical contact with you so you could know where he was. He took your hand, leading you up from your sitting position so you could make your way around the room together. He struck a match to light the first candle, his features now illuminated by the warm orange glow. Secondo quickly lit the wick before waving out the flame of the match. His eyes landed on you, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly at your smaller form standing mere inches from him. It was the first time you had genuinely seen him smile.

"See? Everything's alright." He lights every candle he can find, bathing the room in a soft light that was easing your anxieties as the moments went on. You returned to the couch, Secondo took a long sip of his tea, allowing you to build up the confidence to ask him the question you had on your mind.

"Papa?" He hums, setting the cup back down on the table and turning his full attention towards you.

"What is it, little one?" His voice remained in that same calming tone. His mismatched eyes slowly scan over your features, as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

"Can…" you took a deep breath, "can I stay here with you until the storm passes?" He breathes out a chuckle.

"Tesoro, you can stay here with me as long as you like." Your heart flutters in your chest as your eyes lock with his. You sat and talked with Secondo for hours. The two of you sat with a blanket covering your laps, knees occasionally bumping together as you shifted and moved as you spoke. You had reached a lull in the conversation and it gave you a moment to just look at him. He still wore his Papal paint, which was now smudged. A soft smile formed on your lips as you watched him fidget with the edge of the blanket. The peaceful silence you had found yourself in was once again disturbed by the storm outside. Thunder roared in what you felt was a ceaseless manner when Secondo did something you didn't expect. He leaned over and covered your ears with his hands, dulling the sound as much as he could as he tried to give you a comforting expression. He was smiling again, a gesture so faint that you probably would have missed it if you weren't looking directly at him. You placed your much smaller hands on top of his and tried your best to return the expression, quietly mumbling out a thank you so he knew how much this meant to you.

He glances down at your lips for just a moment. Hands still covering your ears even though the thunder had stopped, thumb rubbing languid lines across your cheek. In one swift movement he leaves forward and catches your lips in a soft, sweet kiss. You barely had time to respond before he pulled away. You trailed after him, the feeling of his lips on yours still haunting your senses. "I'm sorry Tesoro," was it you? Did you do something to put him off? Before you had the chance to let your anxieties take over he continued. "I don't want you to feel like I'm just trying to take advantage of you." He looked somewhat embarrassed by his actions.

"Papa," you say softly, his gaze meets yours once again. "You are one of the most gentle, respectful men I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Why do you think I'd feel that way?" You took his hands in yours. It was your turn to comfort him now.

"I know what they all say about me Tesoro. My brothers get labeled as passionate, kind, sweet… Meanwhile I'm gruff and terrifying, that I use Siblings purely for sex and nothing more. I don't want you to feel that way. I don't want you to worry when I kiss you if I'm just trying to take things further, if I hold you that my mind is wandering elsewhere. I've kept my distance to be respectful, but I don't want to have to stay away from you anymore." You slide closer to him, placing a hand on his jaw.

"Secondo," you heard his breath hitch in his throat at the sound of you calling him by his name. "There hasn't been a single moment throughout the time that I've known you that felt like you were trying to take advantage of me. Even when I first moved to the Abbey I never listened to what the other Siblings said about you. The Secondo I know is kind. The Secondo I know would never do anything to hurt me."

"Amore… do you think we could try that kiss again?" You nodded.

"You can kiss me as much as you like Secondo." He smiles at you, a bright full smile as he chuckles.

"Well in that case." He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You let out a surprised squeak at his actions. "Is this okay?" He asks, loosening his grip on you momentarily in case he had made you uncomfortable.

You hold his face tenderly in your hands. "This is perfect." He hungrily catches your lips in a kiss. You lean into him, body now flush against his as you let him fully envelop your senses. You felt his fingers squeezing your waist, hands slowly sliding down until they fully cupped your ass. You couldn't help but giggle at his actions. The rumors about him being bitter and frigid might be untrue, but the ones about him being a horny old man weren't. You pushed your ass back into his palms, showing him the contact was welcomed. He groaned in response, a deep rumble from his chest that vibrated your body. Kissing him made your head spin in the best way. There was no doubt in your mind that Secondo was experienced, but this was something you had never experienced before. His lips left hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You felt him smile against your skin at every little gasp or stifled moan that left your body. You ground your hips against him, eliciting another delectable groan.

"Amore, if we keep this up I won't be able to stop myself from taking this further." His voice came out low and raspy, an almost dangerous tone in his words as he hinted at the events to come. You both sat there for a moment, chests heaving with labored breaths. On one hand you had been fantasizing about this moment practically since you had met Secondo for the first time. On the other, you had heard the stories. Siblings that has hooked up with him only to awake the next morning to an empty bed and a note telling them to collect their belongings, feel free to shower and to freshen up, but to leave before he returned to his quarters that afternoon. He could tell the apprehension of your features. He gently took your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, gently drawing your attention back to him. "We don't have to do any of this if you don't want to."

"I just…" you sighed, trying to find the right words to say. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I don't want to do this and wake up alone in the morning."

"Tesoro, you have my word. You will never wake up alone if I can help it. I-" He cut himself off. You could see it in his face. He wanted to let you in, he wanted to say something profound and emotional to sweep you off your feet despite the fact that Secondo was known to guard his emotions. He fidgets with the fabric of your habit, unable to meet your eyes. "I've found myself falling for you amore. I know I'm not typically very vulnerable, but I'd like to try…for you. I'm tired of sleeping around. I want someone to call mine, I want you to be mine amore." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. You glanced up at him, his longing gaze the only thing you could see. You grab the collar of his Papal Robes, pulling his lips back to yours. Secondo tightens his hold on you as you adjust yourself in his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs, you shivered at the sensation. He laid you back on the couch, removing his body from yours for just a moment so he could scoop you up in his arms. He grinned down at you as you let out an excited squeal. He carries you to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. You glanced over at him, biting your lip as you watched him pull off his robe. His gaze was trained on you as he carefully undid each of the buttons on his shirt.

"Secondo." You say his name sweetly, your voice already dripping with lust for the man before you. "Come here." You sat up, never breaking eye contact with him as he walked to the bed. You finished undoing the buttons on his shirt before helping it off his shoulders and onto the floor. His bare chest was warm beneath your fingers. You slid your hands down his body, goosebumps forming under your delicate touch. You ran your hand over the bulge that was starting to form in his pants. Secondo groans at your touch, head falling back as he lets out a please sigh. You undid his belt and freed him from the rest of his clothes.

"Your turn amore." He kissed you hard, guiding you backwards until you were laying on the bed again. He dropped to his knees, pushing your habit up to your waist. He kisses and nips a trail up the inside of your thigh. You whimper at the light contact, squirming under his touch. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you." He chuckles, hooking his fingers into your underwear, pulling them off at an agonizingly slow pace. He places wet kisses across your stomach and up each of your thighs before he finally decides to humor you. He pushes your thighs apart, completely exposing yourself to him. He doesn't give you any time to prepare as he runs a firm flat tongue over your clit, earning an unholy mewl from your lips. He hums against you, sending vibrations through your whole body. You reach down for him, your breath coming out in shaky bursts as you try to hold yourself together through the assault from his tongue. He takes your hand, sucking your clit into his mouth and earning a pleasured cry from you. Two leather clad fingers began teasing at your entrance before sliding fully inside of you.

"Fuck! Papa…" You moan, squeezing his hand tightly. You feel his fingers curl inside you, moving at what seemed like an almost inhuman pace that had you seeing stars. He repeatedly hit a spot inside you that sent a jolt through your whole body. A tight knot of pleasure began forming inside of you. "Papa…" you stammer out. "I-I'm gonna." Before you could get your release he removed any contact he had with your body. You threw your head back with a groan, your body shuddered at the sudden emptiness. You pushed your habit fully off your body, leaving you covered in nothing but your bra. You felt Secondo's arm slip around your waist. You were very swiftly and effortlessly sat on one of his thighs. You let out a gasp as he bit into your shoulder, his fingers trailing up your sides and over your back to undo your bra.

"What a pretty little thing you are, amore." He whispers seductively in your ear, wrapping his arm around you and allowing his hand to slide up to your throat. You pressed yourself against him, whimpering as even the slightest friction. You bit your lip, trying desperately to hide how easily he had you coming undone, even though that fact was very obvious from Secondo's soaked thigh. "Show your Papa how good he makes you feel pet." You begin to roll your hips, establishing a rhythm against him. The room was filled with the sound of your small gasps and moans, you felt his leg tense underneath you which only added to the pleasure you were feeling. The sensation of leather on skin as he slid a hand across your stomach sent a shiver down your spine. You let your head fall to the side as his lips found their way to your neck. His grip tightened in you slightly, fingers pressing into you perfectly to give you a blissful, dizzying headrush. Your pace quickened, your moans become more fervent with each passing second. Your movements became more erratic as you neared your orgasm, Secondo noticed this and chuckled. "Naughty little thing, coming undone just from riding your Papa's thigh." He growled in your ear. "I can't wait to have you, pet, to feel how perfectly I fit inside you." His words only turned you on more, your moans growing louder as you desperately chased your release. You were becoming desperate, riding Secondo's thigh felt incredible but it still wasn't enough to let you finish. You needed him.

"Papa…" you stammer out between your heavy breaths, "please…"

"What is it my pet? What do you want your Papa to do to you." He was enjoying this, you could hear it in the tone of his voice. He grabs your face, turning you to look at him. "You're such a pretty sight, amore. Already a desperate mess for your Papa." He chuckles. His lips meet yours in a heated kiss, remnants of you still on his lips. His arm hooked around your waist, allowing him to flip you onto the mattress. His body now hovering over yours, hard cock teasing at your entrance. The hand that rested near your face came to rest on your cheek, making you look at him before his lips were crushed against yours again. He slowly pushed himself inside of you, you moaned against his mouth. His tongue slid against yours, muffling your moans as he gradually began to pick up his pace. Every snap of Secondo's hips has you seeing stars. You clawed at his back, your nails digging into his skin as every thrust threatened your release. "You feel so good amore, so good for your Papa." You couldn't form a coherent thought. The words of praise, the pure euphoria that surged through your body was almost too much for you to handle. Secondo's thrusts were losing their steady rhythm as he neared his own climax. His hand moved down your body, his sole focus to make you finish before he did. You gripped him as tightly as you could, cries that would wake Satan himself leaving your lips as Secondo finally let your orgasm crash over you. Your vision went white, your teeth sinking into his shoulder to stop yourself from waking the whole Abbey. Doing so caused Secondo to grab a fistful of hair and pull your head backwards, forcing you to make eye contact with me. He smirked down at you; pupils blows, moaning incoherent nonsense due to him fucking you stupid. He kissed you hard as he rode out his own climax before he collapsed on top of you. You kissed the side of his face, holding him close as you both caught your breath. Your skin stuck to his when he eventually rolled off of you, both of you drenched in sweat. "Are you alright my love? I wasn't too rough with you was I?"

You let out an exhausted chuckle, rolling over to face him. "You were perfect." The two of you remain locked in one another's longing gaze.

"You stay right there amore, I'll be right back." Secondo disappears into his bathroom, emerging moments later with a damp washcloth. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you, gently cleaning you up.

You reach out and caress his face. "Thank you." He smiles softly at you, leaning down and giving you a gentle kiss on the lips. Once you felt like you could move again Secondo helped you into the shower. Your legs, although no longer shaking, still felt weak as you walked across the cold wooden floor. You sighed blissfully as the hot water ran over your skin, Secondo joined you in the shower after removing his tarnished Papal paint. He held you by your waist, pulling you out of the water slightly so he could wash your hair. You leaned into his touch with a pleased hum. The two of you dried off together and got into bed, Secondo holding you close against his chest. The two of you spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything. Secondo tried his hardest to open up and be vulnerable with you. You appreciated just how much effort he was putting in. You eventually drifted off in his arms, feeling a kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep.

When you woke up the next morning you let out a pleased sigh as you remembered your night prior. You reached over to the other side of the bed to find it empty. You shot up, looking around the room, Secondo was nowhere to be found. You looked over at the nightstand to see the one thing you were dreading the most, a folded up piece of paper. Tears stung at your eyes, you were preparing to rip up the note when you heard laughter from his living room. He was still here. You decided to open the note. 'I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were awake amore. My brothers stopped by and I didn't want to wake you. I've left you some clothes in the bathroom. Feel free to get dressed and join us for breakfast if you would like.' You smile, he had kept his promise. You changed into the clothes he had left you and made your way out of the bedroom. "Good morning everyone." You were welcomed by a chorus of jovial greetings.

"Good morning amore." Secondo pulls you into his lap, causing you to giggle. You kiss his cheek, he smiles softly at you. You gazed at him fondly as he picked up the conversation with his brothers again. He was all yours, and you couldn't have been happier.

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