#cardinal copia x female reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeyynymphh · 5 months ago

Text

| The Wager |

Cardinal Copia x FemReader rating: E words: 4k tags: dom copia, oral sex (m receiving), confessional sex, choking, rough sex, copia is a sneaky shit AO3

Summary: A new Sister of Sin, you feel you are not living up to the expectations of your new church and seek out confession to unburden yourself. Little do you know, that the Cardinal has something he needs to confess to you.

I started writing this ages ago and its been so close to finished for ages. Seeing the new movie made me feel motivated to complete it.

Not my best work but hey, I did some writing :)

It's a bit silly but c'est la vie!

Your hands grip the edge of the pew as you take a steadying breath. You’d been sitting here for nearly an hour, watching sibling after sibling as they entered and left the confessional box. It seemed so large and imposing in the low light of the abbey’s candelabras. You knew you needed to speak, to confess. Yet you were anxious. A new Sister of Sin, and not just any new Sister—but one that had converted from the local church.

A few months have passed since you left your old life behind you to join the strange, yet welcoming, abbey upon the hill. Everyone had accepted you without question—you were not the first to leave behind an old god and you would not be the last—yet old habits and the lingering guilt were hard to forget. Your hands tighten their grip on the pew and you watch as another sibling leaves the confessional. They give you a brief smile before they pass and you realise you are the only one left, the only sound is their fading footsteps before the chapel is silent.

It was now that you had to go before the confessional closed for the evening, it was so late already. You could wait until next week, yet you felt you couldn’t keep this bubbling away inside. You needed to speak to someone—and you had spoken with Papa Terzo before. He had been charming and kind, and very flirty, something that made you flush quite a bit. But he never made you feel silly or stupid for not knowing the customs of your new home. You were sure this would be no different, yet the anxiety still lingered.

You made yourself stand, sliding out of the pew and walking over to the confessional. Your hand hesitates before you gently knock on the side of the detailed wood.

“Enter.”

The low word is muffled but you hear it and step inside. The door shuts quietly behind you and you take your seat, glancing at the shadowy outline of Papa on the other side. It smells like chapel incense and some other scent that has you taking a deep breath as the scent comforts you in the warmth of the confessional.

With your hands clasped in your lap, you speak, “Forgive me, Papa, for I have sinned.”

“This must be your first time, Sister.”

You pause. The voice is not Papa Terzo as you had expected but Cardinal Copia. You grip the fabric of your habit in embarrassment. While you were too busy worrying, you had not noticed that Cardinal Copia was the one taking confession and not Papa.

“Forgive me, Cardinal,” you say.

“There is nothing to forgive,” he says. “And we do things a little differently here. Sinning is very much encouraged.”

“Sorry, Your Eminence, I am still stuck in my old ways,” you reply hesitantly, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

“Does this bother you, Sister?”

You nod and then realise he can’t see you. “I’m finding it hard to adjust, it is so similar yet so different to my old life.”

“That is to be expected, change affects us all,” he says. “It will improve over time, you haven’t been with us long.”

You know that’s true. You also realise this is the first conversation you’ve ever had with the Cardinal. He always seemed to keep to himself or haunt the library. You’d only ever exchanged greetings with him before. He made you nervous, Papa Terzo was so much more approachable than Cardinal Copia. Anyone was…well, perhaps not Papa Secondo. But Cardinal Copia was so silent and quiet, he only ever really seemed to come alive during sermons or when he taught classes. His intensity was intimidating and the way he would sometimes cut down a fellow sibling during a lesson could be nerve wracking. But how his impassioned words held your attention, it was impossible not to be drawn to the Cardinal. You wanted to be noticed by him yet never have his gaze upon you. So you’re surprised at how kind his words are, though you know it is his job. It’s much easier to talk to him when you aren’t forced to look at his imposing expression.

“I know, Cardinal,” you say. “I just worry I’m not…meeting expectations.”

“How so?”

You shift in your seat. This had been much easier when you’d been imagining it in your head. And while the Cardinal words were polite, there was still an edge to his voice that made you shift on the wooden seat.

“In my worship,” you say, feeling your face flush. “I know many siblings prefer to do so, er, together.”

“Ah.”

“All forms of sin are encouraged, mia cara, not just the ones of the flesh.” His voice is low and you scoot a little closer towards it, unable to help but smile at the endearment. “You do not need to be writhing upon an altar while someone feasts upon your divine sex to please the Olde One.”

Maybe not but it’s suddenly all you can think about. It was one thing to leave your old life behind because you did not wish to live a life without pleasure, yet to have it fully thrust upon was hard to contend with. The abbey lived life to the fullest and held no shame, but you were not ready to participate in certain rituals. Though, you had certainly thought of them with the Cardinal in mind. But you knew he never attended such things.

How you wished that he did.

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” you reply, sensing it was time to leave. “Siamo con il nostro Dio Scuro,” he says and you can dimly see his gloved hand move in the darkness to make the sign of the grucfix. “Nema.”

You stand and make to leave but he speaks, making you pause.

“Sister.”

The sharp word hangs in the small space and you glance at his shadowy figure on the other side of the confessional.

“Yes, Cardinal?”

He clears his throat and his words are short, awkward. This has your brow furrowing in confusion.

“Do you have time to stay a moment? I know it is late.”

“Yes, I can.” You sit back down, apprehension knotting in your stomach.

“I feel I must confess something to you.”

Confess? To you? Cardinal Copia? The apprehension knots even further. What could he possibly confess?

“Oh?” is all that manages to escape your mouth. Your head twists so that you are facing the latticed partition. Your hands grip the edge and you lean closer without even realising your face is nearly touching it.

“I heard that Papa Terzo and Papa Secondo have a wager, in regards to you,” says the Cardinal.

“A wager?” you ask, confused.

“Si,” he says, his words still sounding oddly stilted. “There is no polite way to say it, Sister, but they’re betting on who can fuck you first.” He sighs. “They do it after every initiation of a new group of siblings.”

“What?” it comes out as a squeak.

“They pick someone and whoever fucks them first wins.”

You’re shocked but also strangely thrilled at the thought. You haven't really spoken to either Papa. Secondo was so…Secondo, you don’t think you can recall ever having spoken to him. And Terzo was always surrounded by admirers that you had only really spoken to when you first joined or after Dark Mass, since he was the reigning Papa. While he has always been so friendly to you, you did not think he even knew your name.

“Why me?” you can’t help but ask.

“You come from the village church,” says Copia with a sneer. “They think it would be quite the challenge—” he pauses and then quickly asks, “are you a virgin? Is this why you are reluctant to worship in such a fashion?”

“No!” you say quickly. You hadn’t had much as much experience as your new siblings but you had some. It had been one of the reasons for leaving your old faith behind. You feel your face colour in embarrassment.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of if you are. We are not heathens… not completely. You are not forced to do anything you do not wish to. You are not required to join the rituals if you do not wish to.”

“You don’t participate,” you say hesitantly. It’s not a question but you desperately want to know why he doesn’t join them.

“How could I compete with Papas?” he gives a short derisive laugh. “Pretty Sisters do not want a cardinal when they can have a Papa, eh?”

You say nothing but can’t help but smile. He called you pretty! How could someone not want him? Perhaps he was a little quiet and somewhat intimidating. But you can’t deny the way you have had to press your thighs together when he would sometimes speak. Your thoughts return to his earlier words of worship upon an altar. You shiver at the thoughts, feeling the warmth of arousal begin to burn low.

“Sister?”

“Sorry, Cardinal.” You take a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me this. You are wrong though, many would want you.”

“That is kind of you, mia cara. But I am well aware of my reputation.” You hear a low chuckle, you’d never really heard him laugh before. “Which you best not ruin just because I have chosen to share this with you. I’ve merely had enough. And you didn’t seem like you would be one for their stupid games.”

You sat there. You were surprised that the Papas would even have such a wager, it didn’t seem like something these people would do. But Terzo did seem to always be surrounded by fawning siblings and had such a charming air about him. And Secondo…he always seemed to have someone—or several someone’s—with him. And his gravelly voice was quite enthralling. A silly brotherly game, you supposed.

But, why you? It was true you’d come from the local church, having had your doubts for quite a while until you’d spied the strange abbey upon the hill and felt drawn to it.

The partition suddenly slid across revealing the Cardinal in his splendid red robes. He looked like the Devil himself standing there while you remain seated. He quirks an eyebrow at you in question.

“Sister?”

You stand quickly and the small booth means you are so very close to him. The spicy yet woody scent you had smelt earlier was not the chapel's incense but him. The warmth of his body seems to amplify it, along with the fresh scent of clean linen and the tang of sweat that clings to his cassock. It feels far too warm here in the confessional. Why did he open the partition?

“Are you alright, Sister?” His low voice is overwhelming when you are so close, a hand gently grabs hold of your shoulder and squeezes lightly. “I hope I have not misspoken nor upset you by telling you this.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. His hand is gloved—as always—yet the heat radiates from it. It feels so large on your shoulder and you can’t help the thought of that hand touching you elsewhere. You hastily look down as you feel the blush spread across your cheeks.

“No, Your Eminence,” you say. You steal yourself when the thought hits you. quickly leaning forward to kiss his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. “Thank you, again.”

You risk a glance at his face and his expression hasn’t changed. But he doesn’t look disgusted so before you lose your courage, you move again and press your lips briefly against his, feeling his moustache tickle your skin before you’ve already pulled back.

He speaks, voice a low growl that makes your stomach flip. “Don’t do that, Sister.”

Oh. Instantly any hope you had is crushed. It was a stupid thing to do! You look down again and mumble an apology under your breath. You move to leave but his hand is still on your shoulder and it holds you in place, the other hand coming to your chin so his fingers can tilt your face up to meet his gaze.

“You can’t tease an old man like that,” he says, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Go kiss a Papa, mia dolce.”

“I don’t want to kiss a Papa,” you say. “I want to kiss you, Cardinal.”

Suddenly he seems different, more how he appears during sermons with that raw intensity you find so alluring. His touch is firm and sure as he pulls you into his side of the booth. Effortlessly he sits, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands glide up your legs to then grip your hips so he can pull you flush against him.

“Give me a kiss then, dolce.”

Heart racing, you eagerly lean forward and press your mouth against his again. This time he responds, lips moving under yours. You can taste the bitterness of the paint on his top lip but it’s barely noticeable when his tongue is trying to slide into your mouth. You’re swept up in the taste of him and the insistent way he devours you, teeth occasionally biting and pulling at your bottom lip. It makes a thrill run down your spine and you press yourself closer to him.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless. His eyes are nearly the same, both so blown wide by lust that you can barely determine the colour of them in the dimness of the booth.

“Grazie, Sorella,” he says.

You feel like you are on fire. Your entire body is singing from one kiss. Lucifer, you want more. Without even thinking you move your hips forward, so you are sliding even closer to him, nearly falling off him in your desire to get closer. His thigh is right under your aching sex and you can’t help but grind down on it.

His moustache twitches as a small smile appears on his face. “You want more than a kiss, si?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” you say breathlessly as he pushes his thigh back against you making you pant out a moan.

“I thought you did not wish to worship this way?” he asks though he doesn’t sound concerned like he did before, his voice is edging on teasing. As if he already knows why.

“I—” your words fumble as you feel another flush suffuse your face. You are already in his lap and he just had his tongue half way down your throat—now was not the time to be the ignorant village girl. You swallow your nerves and say, “I want to worship with you, Cardinal.”

A sly grin unfurls on his face and that makes your heart race.

He brings up over his laps properly so your hips are slotted against his. The position makes you moan as you can feel the hardness of his cock through the layers of his cassock

“I worship a little differently to what you may be used to, dolce,” he purrs against your ear while a hand wraps around your neck. He squeezes, not too tightly but enough to get the point across. “You can leave now if you wish.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to leave, Cardinal.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his praise, which he clearly notices. He thrusts his hips up against yours and your hands grip at the fabric of his pelegrina. The friction feels far too good but you want more and press down against him clumsily, making him let out a low laugh.

He brings his face close to yours, his nose pressing against your temple and his breath ghosts against your ear.

“Will you get on your knees for me, dolce?”

It’s so warm in the confessional that any sane thoughts have left you. It’s like he managed to bewitch you—you’d do anything he asked. And so you nod and slowly slide off of him to the floor. There isn’t much space in the confessional and it’s all stuffy but you feel even hotter as you watch him lift the fabric of his cassock. Underneath are his usual tight pants and you can see the large bulge straining against the fabric. Dazed and body singing with lust, you can’t help but lick your lips when he unzips them, letting his cock free.

You stare at it and you feel his hand reach for your wimple and yank it off so your hair can spill free. The leather of his gloved hands is soft as a finger traces your face before a hand winds tightly in your hair to bring your head closer towards his flushed cock. Your hands grip his thighs as you lick the head, the groan that leaves Copia’s throat emboldening you so that you lick it again before gripping the base to take it into your mouth.

The hand in your hair tightens further and you lick the underside of his cock as you suck, teasing him as best you can. Every sigh and moan that comes from him feels like a prayer and you increase your movements even though your own sex demands attention. You can feel the wetness seeping through your knickers and you desperately squeeze your thighs together, the hand not pumping his cock digging into his thighs as you moan around him.

“Do you need help, dolce?” he growls from above you.

You feel him shift, forcing your mouth to leave him, as the toe of one his boots finds its way between your knees to press up against your cunt. Immediately you grind down against him, desperately trying to ride against the leather while your hand still fists his cock.

It’s not enough though and you feel he can sense your desperation in the way he laughs.

“You need more from your Cardinal, si?”

“Yes, please, Your Eminence” you breathe, grinding down against him again.

His hands move to pull you up on your feet and when he commands that you remove your panties, you do. Stepping out of them hurriedly and leaving them on the floor before he is tugging you back into lap and pushing the skirt of your habit up to bunch around your waist. He makes no effort to be gentle, gripping your hips tightly and positioning you over his slick cock before he is bringing you down. You are more than ready for him but it has been so long since the last time you had fucked anyone.

“Cazzo,” he hisses, one of his hands coming between you to circle your clit.

The jolt of pleasure has you sinking onto him further, opening you up to him so that he is fully seated within you. You moan as he continues to rub at your bundle of nerves, your hips grinding down on him as you try to take your pleasure. Your blood is boiling with a neediness you have never felt so acutely before and when you begin to ride him in earnest, he is matching your thrusts with his own.

“Good girl,” he says, the low voice making your cunt throb in response.

A gloved hand is back at your throat, holding you tightly and making your head spin. You feel lightheaded and your own movements become disjointed in the delirium surging through your veins. But it doesn’t matter, as Copia’s grip on your hips and throat have you held in place with ease as he fucks up into you.

You know you are going to come soon, you can feel the delicious tension low in your stomach and your spine tingles with anticipation. The easy slide of his cock in your cunt is addictive, and you can feel him swelling further, bringing you even closer to the edge.

When his hand leaves your throat to hold both sides of your hip and bring down against him so he can fuck you hard and fast, you come fast. Your hands grips at him, hands fistings in the fabric of his pelegrina as you lean forward to bury yourself against his neck. He keeps fucking you as your ride the wave of your release until you feel him spilling within you. You cling to him as he takes his own pleasure, muttering unintelligible Italian. Sweat is damp on your neck as his movements start to slow and the only sound left is both of your heavy breathing.

“Grazie, mia dolce,” he whispers, his moustache tickling your cheek.

You lean back to see the smirk on his face before awkwardly standing, suddenly embarrassed at what had come over you. You just fucked Cardinal Copia in the confessional!

“I—” your words falter and you look down on the floor, grabbing your wimple and trying to find your knickers. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”

You pin the wimple back on your head while the Copia is waiting, not a hair out of place, as he smooths down the front of his cassock. You notice something in his hand—your underwear. You go take it but he tuts at you and pockets them with a smirk.

“Penance, Sister,” is all he says before opening the door for you.

It is much cooler in the empty church, a welcome relief on your heated skin and you can’t wait to return to your bed, unable to look at the Cardinal while his seed drips down your thighs.

You nearly jump when you hear a voice echoing in the silence. “Buonasera, I was locking up.” It is Papa Secondo, a set of large keys in one hand as he stands at the other end of the church by the large doors. You walk with Copia towards him, holding your hands in front of you.

“I was just holding confession with our new Sister, Papa,” says Copia smoothly. “But we are finished now.”

You don’t trust yourself to look at either of them and so you hurriedly offer a goodnight to both men before scurrying down the hallway and towards your room.

The next day feels like any other, though you are sore and bruised, you can’t help the anticipation of seeing the Cardinal again in your next lesson.

“Sorella!”

The voice startles you and you turn to see Papa Terzo heading your way, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he comes down the hallway. He stops in front of you, gives an overdramatic bow that you cannot help but smile at. He proffers the flowers with a flourish.

“For you, bella!” he says. “I saw them out in the garden and had to pick them for you.” They’re dozens of red roses all neatly wrapped. “Did you wrap and add the card yourself too, Papa?”

“Si, si,” he says seriously but then he winks, earning a small laugh from you. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl!”

You spy Secondo heading your way as well and try not to let any embarrassment mar your features. There is no way he could possibly know what happened last night. He's scowling but he always looks like that so it’s hard to tell if he is actually upset or not. He gives you a polite nod.

“Sorella,” he greets with a small nod at you before glaring at his brother. “Idiota.”

“Secondo,” replies Papa Terzo, “as you can see I am busy talking to the lovely Sorella, andare via.” The older Papa sighs. “Non si disturbi.”

“Eh?” “Il ratto ti ha battuto.”

Terzo’s face immediately goes from charming to enraged. “Il ratto?”

It feels like both men have suddenly forgotten you are standing there. You do not wish to simply leave and so you stand there awkwardly, wondering if you should tell them you know of their ridiculous bet.

“Si,” says Secondo as Terzo starts to go red around the ears, “quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera.”

“Pah! Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo!”

Secondo ignores his brother’s outburst and looks at you. His voice is much softer than how he addressed Terzo when he asks, “Sorella, I trust your confession last night with the Cardinal was rewarding?”

Your face colours immediately and you stammer out a reply. “Yes, Papa, it was.”

“Vedi,” he says to Terzo with a half hearted shrug. “La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito.”

Terzo glares at the ground. “Cazzo.”

“Mmm. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda.”

They both look at you and you stand there awkwardly. Maybe you should say something and tell them you are flattered but they should not be betting on such things. But before you can even muster the words, Terzo gives you a tight smile.

“Forgive me, bella, but it seems there is a rat problem I must deal with.”

You watch them walk away, bickering in fast Italian to each other, as you stand there utterly confused.

andare via - go away Non si disturbi - Do not bother Il ratto ti ha battuto - The rat beat you Si, quel bastardo l'ha fottuta nel confessionale ieri sera. - Yes, that bastard fucked her in the confessional last night. Sta mentendo. Non può farmi questo... di nuovo! - He’s lying. He can’t do this to me…again! Vedi - You see? La ragazza sembrava completamente fottuta e lui ne era completamente compiaciuto, il bastardo. Inoltre, entrambi puzzavano di sesso, Terzo. Non userò il confessionale finché non sarà pulito. - The girl looked thoroughly fucked and he was utterly smug about it, the bastard. Also, they both reeked of sex, Terzo. I am not using the confessional until it’s cleaned. È sempre molto più bravo con quelli silenziosi di te, quella piccola merda - He’s always much better with the quiet ones than you are, that little shit.

#my-writing #the band ghost fic #fanfic #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #fic: the wager #not my best but i did something!

356 notes · View notes

gravehags · 4 months ago

Text

at the altar of venus

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: body worship babyyyy, self-consciousness, body issues, handjobs, fingering, crying, possessiveness, two fools in love and lust, two fools being gross and making each other laugh

Words: 4,251

Summary: When you watch your beloved turn and turn in front of that mirror, you know something is off. Lucky for him, you have much to say on the matter.

a/n: I JUST THINK HANDSOME OLD MAN APPRECIATION TIME with yknow. a side of total filth and desperate desire.

~~~

What a day.

You wiggle your nude body in Copia’s soft sheets, nuzzle into your pillow and look across the room. Your lover is standing before the full-length mirror next to the dresser - also nude - turning his body to consider himself at different angles in the low lamplight. You watch him for a moment, watch the way his fingers card through his graying hair, loose from the grip of the day’s pomade. He runs his hand down his chest thoughtfully and comes to rest at the slight paunch of his belly. He cups the skin and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“Amore?” he asks quietly, “do you think I’m eh, nice looking? Handsome?”

Any other time you’d laugh out loud at such an absurd question but you can tell from his slumped posture that he’s feeling downtrodden and that simply won’t do.

“The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. And that is not hyperbole. You’re the only man to ever turn my head.”

He sighs heavily through his nose and looks back at his reflection.

“You don’t think I’m…too old for you?”

Now it’s your turn to frown.

“My love…come here.”

He turns to look at you again and you crook your finger and throw back the covers. Fidgeting awkwardly he ambles over and slides into bed and you waste no time in pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

“Shall I tell you how handsome I find you? In great detail - from tip to toe?”

He scoffs and moves to pull the covers up over his chest but you gently rest your hand on his to stop him.

“You eh…you would do that?”

Now you do laugh.

“With pleasure,” you murmur, “let me just–” you pull yourself up and swing your leg over to straddle him, “--there we go. Let’s start here.” You rake your fingernails through his soft, wavy hair and smile when he shivers.

“I love your beautiful, full head of gorgeous thick hair and I love the bits of silver threaded through it most of all. I’ve told you before I’ve always had an, ah, thing for older men and well…what sort of older gentleman aficionado would I be if I didn’t love graying hair? I love the way the light catches on the silver and how it feels between my fingers when you’re uh…busy between my legs.”

He laughs softly through his nose, which is incidentally where your journey takes you next.

“And speaking of when you’re between my legs,” you say, waggling your brows as you drag your fingertip down the slope of his nose, “when this beautiful, stately, elegant thing nudges at my clit…oh. Copia I’ve always loved your nose since day one but what this thing is capable of…”

Your eyes unfocus for a moment as you lean in to kiss it absentmindedly.

“You’re getting distracted, amore mio,” Copia murmurs, eyes glittering. Eyes. Those pretty, mismatched eyes and those long brown lashes…

“As always, you are too kind to me,” he chortles, reaching a hand up to stroke your hair. Sathanas, you didn’t even realize you had said that out loud. “I used to hate my eyes when I was a kid, you know? Always a reminder of the bloodline I was a part of but never really a part of…not according to Nihil anyway. Where others thought the white eye was ‘commanding’ on Secondo or ‘alluring’ on Terzo, it was always eh, ‘unsettling’ on me.”

“Hmm,” you say thoughtfully, “I certainly don’t think you need them but did you ever consider contact lenses?”

“Oh, sì, sì,” he nods, “tried them once too in my twenties but eh…something was just…off. Personally I thought I looked creepier with two green eyes.”

You lean back a little and raise a hand to cover his white eye, and then the green while tilting your head.

“Shoulda got a white contact for the green eye instead so you could go around looking like some sexy demonic husky.”

Copia bursts out in laughter, his chest shaking beneath your palms.

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better?”

“It is! I made you laugh, didn’t I?” you say with a grin, leaning down to place a slow, soft kiss on his lips that has his hands settling on your hips.

“Love these too,” you breathe when you finally separate, “love how soft and plump they are and I especially love the little freckle right here–” you place the pad of your thumb on his full lower lip, “--God you have no idea how it drove me mad day in and day out whenever we’d work together. Driving me to distraction. All I’d ever want to do when you got close to me is…” You lean forward once more and catch his lip gently between your teeth, sucking on it until you feel his cock twitch against you.

“Mmm,” you pull off him with a wet noise that has him panting into the dimly lit room, “is someone starting to buy into the truth that he’s the most handsome man in the abbey? Perhaps even the world?”

“Don’t push your luck, dolcezza, I’m just eh, excited to have a beautiful, soft, young thing on top of me. One who is very good with her mouth, I might add.”

“Oh, that’s too bad you still don’t believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Try harder and maybe I’ll give you a little treat, hmm?”

He chuckles and tilts his head back.

“I’ll do my best. Done with the face, then?”

“And skip your glorious little mustache and impeccably crafted sideburns? Cardinal, you know I’m a woman who pays attention to the details. To say nothing of the freckles that are scattered over your face and down–” you trail a finger down his throat and tap on his clavicle, “--over your chest and shoulders? I’d kiss every single one if I thought I’d live to accomplish that.” You amuse yourself for a moment by playing connect the dots with the marks until your fingertip slides over and traces the lines of his tattoo.

“You never did tell me the story with this.”

He smiles, thumbs brushing soft circles on your thighs.

“Terzo did it. I had just entered the priesthood and he came to my quarters and got me drunk and convinced–”

“Wait, when you say ‘Terzo did it’ you mean Terzo gave you the tattoo?”

“Sì,” he nods, “He knew how much I loved the Omen movies and always complained that I never did anything wild so…”

You lean forward and inspect the ink.

“That looks…a lot better than anything I would have expected from Terzo.”

Copia snickers.

“His lines were surprisingly steady, but his hand not nearly strong enough. I had a professional touch it up later but that stays between us, sì?”

You give him a salute and lean back, raking your fingernails down his chest.

“Back to the topic at hand,” you murmur, “unholy fuck I love your body hair. It’s so thick and soft and I love the way it scratches just right at my nipples when you’re fucking me into the mattress.”

He sucks in a breath so fast he nearly chokes.

“You’re really not holding back, are you cara mia?”

“Nope,” you confirm, watching the way the tip of his tongue slides out to wet his lips as he eyes your breasts. Briefly, your hands abandon his torso to come up and cup them, thumbing across your hardened nipples. You pull away and grab his hands, placing them where yours once were. Greedily, he palms the flesh as your hips make little circles.

“These,” you breathe, your hands covering his, “these gorgeous, big, strong hands with these thick fingers…I can’t even count how many times I brought myself off to the thought of them.”

“O-oh?” he pants, removing one hand and bringing it up to cup your face, “with the gloves a-and everything?”

You lean into his touch.

“Especially with the gloves. Copia, the way I’d fantasize about being able to feel every stitch and groove of those things when I’d picture them inside of me…” You turn your head to place a kiss to the scar tissue at the center of his palm and his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “Mmm, you got me distracted again. Where was I?”

You look down and remember, scooting backwards down his body to settle in between his thighs. He whines now that you’re only touchable if he sits up, too tired to make an effort. Not, however, too tired for other things, you think as you look down at his hardened cock resting heavy against his belly, smearing pre on the hairs there.

“We’ll address this,” you say, gesturing to his erection, “in a bit. But for now…this.”

Your word is punctuated by the way you run your hands over his slight paunch, grinning as you knead the flesh. Copia’s shoulders twitch as if he’d like nothing more than to fold in on himself, eyes trained up somewhere over your shoulder.

“Your soft tummy is so sweet and perfect and–” you make a noise like a big cat growling, “--I just want to eat it up.”

“Clearly from its appearance I’ve eh, done enough eating for the both of us.”

You frown deeply.

“Copia,” you say, your tone deadly serious, “since when do you have problems with a belly? I hope you don’t have problems with my belly and mine is a lot bigger than yours—“

“Amore, never!” he gasps, horrified, “You…you are perfection. You are soft and plush and-and a goddess. This–” he says, gesturing lamely to his paunch, “--is the result of old age. Old age and too much spaghetti.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why it’s hot,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My love, this little belly shows that not only have you enjoyed life, reveled in it the way Sathanas intended, but that you’ve survived. Endured. I love this belly the way I love every single line on your face. You wouldn’t be my Copia without them. I didn’t fall in love with some guy in his twenties with a waxed six-pack. Quite frankly…ew. Respectfully, beloved, I fell for the kind, smart, handsome, distinguished gentleman in his almost-fifties. Who is sort of goofy and really good with his tongue. I mean…really good.”

He laughs softly through his nose, regarding you with watery eyes. His lips form the words to thank you but no voice comes out. That’s alright, though. You’re not telling him these truths for your benefit.

“Shall I continue?” you ask gently, smiling when he nods.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, where you massage the flesh.

“You know I hadn’t even seen these - like, really seen them - until our first official date? When you wore those tight, tight pants? Lord have mercy these things are thick. I’d be content to gnaw on them like a dog with a bone if you’d let me.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” he murmurs, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say with a wink, “I’d compliment your juicy ass too if I could get to it so just remind me to give it a healthy smack next time you’re standing, huh? The first time I saw you in profile in your cassock I almost passed out. Goddamn.”

He laughs and tilts his head at you.

“Ti adoro follemente,” he says, “thank you for making this old man love himself, even if it’s just a tiny bit.”

“I’ll take a tiny bit for now, we’ll work on the positive reinforcement.”

“Oh? And what kind of positive reinforcement did you have in mind?”

You ghost your fingers along his half hard cock, wrapping them around the shaft and leaning forward to spit thickly, your saliva landing on the head. The act has Copia moaning and shifting his hips up into your touch as you stroke him back to full hardness.

“Ah, dolcezza,” he sighs, half-lidded eyes watching your hand slide along the shaft, “if only you had known what I fantasized about with your hands.”

“Well go on, bello mio,” you purr, swiping your thumb along the slit to gather the pre leaking from the head. “Tell me.”

He grunts and ruts up into your touch.

“W-we’d be in your office…working on some…some administrative thing. And I’d watch the way those clever little fingers would fly across your keyboard–ah, fuck–and I’d imagine you leaving your desk a-and settling on your knees between my legs. Lifting my cassock up and palming me through m-my trousers. S-sometimes you’d use your mouth too but…always your hands. Always those s-soft fingers wrapped around me j-just like this. I–oh, cazzo–”

His voice cuts off with a moan as you spit on him once again, the wet slide of your pumping hand and his harsh breathing the only sound in the room. With your other hand you reach down to cup his balls, gently caressing them as you continue to stroke the length of him.

“I-I’m not going to last, amore,” he rasps out, thrusting into your grip, “just like that bellezza mia.”

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, and I love you just as you are.”

You know the last handful of words will send him over the edge and send him they do, until he’s coming in spurts over your knuckles and gasping your name. You continue to stroke him until he has nothing left to give and when he’s spent, you raise your hand to your face and fastidiously lick every drop of his spend from your fingers as he watches with his mouth hung open. When your tongue passes over your middle finger for the final time he grabs at you, eagerly hauling you up his body and slotting his lips over your mouth in a slow, decadent kiss. When you finally pull away, it’s with a smile and you nudge his nose with yours. Gently, you roll off of him and nuzzle into his side, lazily kissing his shoulder. When he rolls onto his side to face you, you move to do the same but he presses you back down into the mattress.

“Copia, your stamina is impressive but you literally just came I don’t expect–”

He chuckles, gently dragging the bedsheets down to expose your body.

“Your turn, dolcezza.”

“My turn–oh.”

The realization hits you as the fingers of his right hand tease at the underside of your breasts and against your belly, dipping further down to cup at the wet heat of you, driving a gasp from your lips. He leans towards you to inhale deep along your neck, lips ghosting over your hair.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start in praising you, bellezza mia. Sweet - in both disposition and taste, tender in body and heart, beautiful in all ways. Tongue and mind as sharp as a tack and ridiculously amusing. Perfetto–” two of his fingers dip down into your labia majora and you see him smile out of the corner of your eye at how slick you are for him. “My perfect girl. Kind. Perhaps too kind and indulgent to this old man but…” his fingertips circle your clit and your hips spasm, “he will show you just how thankful he is nonetheless, sì?”

You whimper as his fingers tease at your entrance before sliding inside you knuckle deep, palm pressed flush against your clit. An echo of how you would touch yourself to the thought of him not that long ago.

“I’m not wearing my gloves but eh, I hope this will suffice for now?”

Your laugh comes out breathy as he begins to fuck into you at a decadent, leisurely pace, pressing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

“I never dreamed at my age I’d find someone like you,” he confesses, “Like you were–like we were made for each other. Every morning and every night I thank Sathanas for bringing you to me, thank you for allowing me to worship you. Anima mia, I adore you so much I wish to devour you. To join our bodies and minds and souls together for eternity and further. I told you before that I love you so much I fear driving you off but…I think we are equally matched in our passions, sì?”

You let out a delighted sigh, spreading your legs further to better accommodate him. It’s nice like this - lazy, unhurried - and he smiles as you clench around him.

“Perfectly matched,” you breathe, meeting the languid thrust of his fingers with the tight circling of your hips, “Copia I am yours in every way - yours to use and fuck and–ah–consume as you please. All yours. Always yours–oh fuck.”

The fervor of your words makes his breathing and his fingers quicken, pumping in and out of you with greater force.

“I would have you all night if you let me,” he growls, his breath hot in your ear, “Say you’ll let me, per favore. Please give me this gift. On my fingers, tongue, cock, it doesn’t matter I need you amore, need to watch you come undone and help mend you back together. Please, I–”

He’s crooked his fingers inside you, pressing against that sweet little spot that makes you whine and cant your hips eagerly. You can feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes and you’re breathless as you nod.

“Copia, please, please, please, need you, need all of you–oh, fuck baby that’s it, don’t stop, don’t–ah!”

Your moan is pitchy and borderline desperate as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

“Mine,” he growls, “Solo mio come sono tuo. La mia bellissima ragazza perfetta. Il mio cuore e la mia anima. Il mio riflesso. La mia luce e il mio buio. Per sempre. Mia scellerata benedizione, non ti merito. I love you more than anything. Anything.”

Panting, you blindly reach down to still his hand between your legs and he sobs into your shoulder. Gently, you extricate his fingers from you and bring his hand up to your face, tongue darting out to taste yourself. Tears slide down his cheeks as he watches, entranced, as you suck each finger into your mouth before dragging the muscle up the center of his palm. His eyes are wet and bright, pupils blown as you lean up and place a soft kiss to his lips. When you pull apart, you thumb away the tears remaining on his cheeks and smile softly at him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, sniffling, “I don’t know what got into me, amore, I–”

“This was a lot,” you murmur, reaching up to push the loose strands of hair off his forehead, “but I hope you know how loved you are by me - everything about you, all of it - and that there is no one more beautiful on this planet to me than the man I see before me right now. And I’ll remind you of this again and again and again until the end of days and even further. You are so special to me, Copia. I hope that even for a little bit tonight you got to see yourself through my eyes.”

When he leans forward to place a kiss to your forehead, he’s trembling.

“C’mere,” you say, drawing him into your arms as he drapes his body over you, arm around your waist. The weight of him is solid and comforting as you press kisses to his hair, enveloping yourself in the orange blossom scent of what little remains of his pomade.

“I promised to ravish you all night,” Copia murmurs, his voice comically muffled by his lips squished against your breast. You snort inelegantly.

“We’ve got many nights ahead of us for that, my love,” you say with a smile, hand stroking along his freckled shoulders, “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. But more importantly - are you alright?”

He pulls away slightly to rest his chin on you.

“I don’t think I have been for a long time,” he says quietly, “Not really, anyway. But ever since you arrived…columba mia, it’s like I have a purpose again.”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to get watery.

“I know exactly what you mean. Exactly. I…I really need to thank Sister Imperator someday for bringing me here, in the end. I mean yeah she had nefarious intentions but…in a roundabout way she kinda helped save my life.”

“Amore, I don’t mean to sound like some kind of eh, Christian but…Sathanas has a plan for us. And it doesn’t involve any of that child bearing bullshit that was being spewed at you…no. He brought us together for a reason and for that I am thankful every day. Thankful every day you did not run screaming from Imperator’s office the day of your interview. Thankful you saw this…peculiar, awkward, old Cardinal…and saw not only a friend but a-a soulmate. I thank Sathanas but like I said earlier - I thank you more. I would forsake my Unholy Father in a heartbeat for you, amore. You are my true religion now. Know that.”

The noise that comes out of you is wet and embarrassing as you cup Copia’s cheek and rest your forehead against his. After a moment of shared breath, you pull away.

“My love, I’m so sorry to ruin the moment but I desperately need to blow my nose.”

He laughs - one of his weird little “ehehe” numbers - and the sound makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Anything for the woman I love,” he announces grandly, leaning over you to grab the box of tissues on the nightstand and present them to you. You pluck one out and hold it to your face while Copia watches fondly from a very close distance.

“Uh, hon?”

“Mmhmm?”

“You might want to back up a little? I don’t trust the integrity of these things and you do not want to be in the splash zone.”

Copia rolls off you making the most revolted noise as you laugh and struggle to breathe through your congested nose. Sitting up, you blow into the tissue while he watches looking supremely disgusted.

“‘Splash zone’,” he grumbles, shaking his head, “Amore, you are not well.”

“Yeah, I think that’s been established in our year of knowing one another. And, I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was speaking to the pinnacle of mental health over here.”

He pinches the meat of your thigh mid-blow and it makes you choke. In retaliation, you throw one of your crumpled, used tissues at him and it bounces off his chest.

“Augh, it’s wet!”

“Duh, that’s my snot,” you chirp pleasantly. “What you don’t like it? What was all that before about how I’m ‘your beautiful, perfect girl’, and ‘your reflection’, and ‘your heart and soul’ and–”

“...You understood all of that?”

You smile.

“Not all of it, but most. I’ve got a pretty impressive Duolingo streak going from all those nights you have confession duty, you know.”

He props himself up on his side and stares at you with a goofy smile.

“Amore mio, I take back my disgust. You could use me as a tissue and I would say thank you.”

That makes a horrible noise come out of you.

“Copia, I’d call you a simp but I think there would be some pot calling the kettle black action going on there so I’ll refrain. Ugh, what a fucking day.”

You gather up your used tissues with the intent of heading to the bathroom with them but Copia turns to you with his hands cupped expectantly. Gently, you smile before depositing them and watching him get up and pad over to the garbage in the other room. When he comes back after washing his hands and climbs into bed, making his delightful old man noises, you grin.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” you murmur as you nestle into his side.

“Indulging you? As if I wasn’t the one getting showered with compliments by a beautiful, nude, young woman?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, trying your best to stifle a yawn. “For hearing me out, for letting me show you how perfect you are to me…all of it. And thank you for the very kind things you said about me in turn. I…will not easily forget that.”

“I certainly hope not but like you, I am prepared to remind you over and over and over of how precious and perfect you are.”

“With fingers, tongue, and cock?” you ask innocently, parroting Copia’s earlier promise. He snorts.

“Dolcezza mia, however you want it.”

“Mmm,” your eyelids are getting heavy as you listen to Copia’s steady breathing, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I would expect nothing less from such a demanding mistress.”

“Oh you haven’t even seen my demanding mistress side yet, beloved.”

He’s got his eyes closed but makes the dirtiest, most intrigued noise you’ve ever heard and it makes butterflies ricochet around in your stomach. His hand trails teasingly up your arm, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Well, Padrona,” he murmurs, low and enticing, “I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for bed just yet.”

You’re already sitting up with a sigh and straddling his hips for the second time that evening as you say: “Insatiable as always, Your Eminence. Hmm, do I get to wear your grucifix and biretta? Perhaps I’ll get that pretty red rope out too?”

“Oh amore…I insist.”

#curator reader series #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

233 notes · View notes

oh-babylove · 3 months ago

Text

~7k. copia/f!reader. explicit. established relationship, smut, filth and fluff. copia does date night, and you show him your appreciation-- it's only fair. mdni.

thanks to @copia for showing me how to put images in a grid-- top right image by instagram user susitse.art. @enjoy-my-swearing and @photiniainsummer, this one's for you. <3

when the red comes over you - ao3

rhrn spoilers. blowjobs, masturbation, dirty talk, light degradation, a small piece of light cum kink, a touch of hanky-panky in public, some thigh riding, face-fucking, fluff, tw: references to past sexual assault/dubious consent/sexual trauma

You’re holding the same pole on the subway car as Copia, his gloved hand over yours, swaying with him, forced into his space by the crowd. It gives you an excuse to stand close to him, in the circle of his scent like cold smoke. You're not complaining– well, not much. Keeping your balance is a bit of a challenge– you aren't used to doing this in heels, even these modest Cuban heels. Riding the subway truly is riding, the rhythmic thrum of the rails swaying up your body, through the balls of your feet. Riding the train feels like riding a living thing.

“I like this,” you say, as if coming to a decision.

“Hnn?” Copia replies, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you.

“Riding the train. I like it.” You lean in to murmur in his ear, not that you have far to go. It’s a matter of tilting your head until you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cheek. “But I’d like riding you even more.” It’s just the kind of cheesy nonsense that you’re both into.

Your body keeps brushing against his– a particularly hard bump has your belly pressed against his erection, and his choked-off gasp scores a direct hit to your brain stem, bypassing your ears, cinching something tight around your diaphragm. His hand tightens on your hip, possessive. Holding you up, keeping your balance.

“You little minx,” he hisses, frustrated--with a ragged edge of delight. “You wait till I get you home.”

“You caint blame that on me, now, that was the train,” you say, but you're close to laughing, yourself. You can hear your accent getting thicker, but damned if you can stop it. Besides, Copia loves it, loves ruffling your feathers enough that he can get you to slide back into that slurring hillfolk drawl. Someday he might even make you less self-conscious about it.

Truth be told, you’ve been practically vibrating since before you left the apartment, restless and swollen between the legs, a low-grade ache that Copia has not been helpful with.

(The apartment. Your apartment. Yours, plural, now, you think. You’d never been a co-religionist of his, and he’d had a toothbrush at your place for a long time. Then a drawer in your dresser. Then he’d brought over his best frying pan, his best chef knife– simply because he couldn’t stand it, gattina, you cook with that? And now there’s as many of his books as yours on the shelves– shelves you put up with your own hands while he did ‘the heavy lookin’ on.’ His name isn’t on the lease, but he paid the rent for the next two months anyway. In full.

When you tried to fight him on it, he’d just shrugged. “Babydoll, I’ve been here more nights than I haven’t for the last four months, this is just… ehh, consider it backdated, yeah?” He’d kissed your forehead. “We can do half each after that. If you haven’t gotten sick of your dirty old man by then.”

It was hard to argue with that.

Copia kept his room at the Ministry, even after his… promotion. His term as Imperator, he’d decided, would be more hands off. You’d talked about it a little. Mostly in bed, sweaty and spent and a little sticky. “Mister Psaltarian is more than capable of running most of it. The administrative things. I’m better with the ghouls, I think, but there’s Kevin, and Ashley, they have it well in hand. I want the new guy to– to be able to be his own man, yeah? I’ll show him the ropes, of course, answer any questions he has, but he doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder all the damn time.”

The new guy. Hell of a way to refer to his long-lost brother. “And you ain’t ready to be around him twenty-four seven just yet.”

“...And that. Yes.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re too perceptive, gattina. Keep it up and I’ll have to fuck you again, till you don’t think so good.”

“So… you sayin’ you gone fuck my brains out? Say, you ever notice that your man Psaltarian loses his train of thought whenever Kevin comes into the room?”

“That’s it, back in the handcuffs with you. And remember, you brought this on yourself.”)

As ever, he’d insisted on doing your makeup. (It should have been your first clue that you were in for it.) It only makes sense-- he’s better at it than you’ve ever been, and he loves doing it. You love it, too, if you’re honest. He had to take his gloves off for it, to hold your chin firmly and keep you in place. It was terribly intimate, his breath ghosting over your lips, the skin of his hand against your cheek. His quiet, gentle command held something still in the center of you, made it sing like a struck tuning fork– a calm vibration that sank into your bones. The cool brush of the eyeliner on the delicate skin of your eyelids. How meticulous he’d been, how precise. That calm focus he brings to everything that he cares about. How his whole being focused on that point, painting cat eyes sharp enough to kill a man.

Your lipstick had been worse, barely holding your mouth open, the brush sliding over the curve of your cupid’s bow, stretching out your lower lip ever so slightly. You hadn’t even known they’d made brushes for lipstick. Copia has taught you so many things.

Copia knows just what shades of red match your skin tone, knows just how to bring out the color of your eyes. He knows, too, the best cut of a dress to accentuate your figure, to flatter your curves. This one was lovely, shaping your breasts, with a little bit of flare to the skirt. He bought you this dress, these heels. This lingerie. He’s taught you how to fasten a silk stocking to a garter belt, that the underwear goes on over the garters, not underneath.

He’d taken the liberty of fastening your stockings tonight. “So the back seam is straight, gattina. I know it’s tricky to get right on your own, yes? Let me help.” His hands, his clever fingers, so high up on your thighs, his face level with your pussy.

“Oh yeah, sweetness, you're helping something, alright,” you choked out, a little strangled.

He must have seen how wet you were already, if the self-satisfied hum he made behind you was any indication. He bit the crease of your ass, just lightly, making a goofy little rawr noise that made you actually giggle.

Embarrassing, the noises he gets out of you.

“You shaved,” he said, and it was supremely gratifying to hear him a little hoarse, himself.

“Did you wanna do that, too?”

“Hnn. We’d miss our reservation.” He wasn't moving from his place on his knees behind you. “Miss the show.”

“Sound like you're enjoying this show purt’ well,” you said, but you thought it best to step into your underwear, anyway.

Pain shared is pain lessened, isn't it?

…He didn't need to know that you only kept them on for a couple of minutes, just until you used the bathroom one last time on the way out the door.

You almost never know in advance where exactly Copia will take you when it's his turn to plan date night- generally your only clue is what clothing he picks out for you, how he does your makeup, if makeup is required. You've ranged over the city hitting up obscure museums before, taken tours in the underbelly of the public transportation system, gone to aviaries and magic shops and tiny greenhouses.

(You like to think you hold your own. Dive bars and twenty four hour diners, sidewalk art festivals and night markets, one memorable instance of a graffiti lesson– that had been an unexpected delight.

Your man can be blisteringly uncool sometimes– most of the time, even– but there's no snobbery in him. No fear, either, not in the way most people are afraid: of embarrassing themselves, saying the wrong thing, of looking like a jackass. He hadn't been good at it, but he threw himself into the attempt wholeheartedly, listened to the man in the baggy jeans with the paint-stained fingers explain technique and theory and the history of the medium with total attention and enthusiasm.

Never will you reach the bottom of him. His openness and his generosity and his good, good heart.)

Dinner and a show is almost a little pedestrian, for him, but there's comfort in the classics. A bar paneled in blond wood and washed in warm light, specializing in rare vinyls piped in on a very serious sound system as much as the cocktails.

He’d been very good, kept his knee between yours, but otherwise, hadn’t even tried to put a hand up your skirt– a rarity, with him. His eyes told a different story, watching you with obvious, predatory hunger. The second time you caught him ogling your cleavage he leaned into it, dragging his eyes salaciously down your body with enough force that you nearly felt his gloves snagging on your skin.

The cheeky motherfucker actually licked his lips at you.

You barked out your unlovely laugh, and the way he grinned took the sting out of the sharp glances cast your way– the aim was to listen to the obscure bossa nova, not to your fellow patrons. Your face was hot. “Ah, gattina, you cannot blame a man for looking. Not when you are as ravishing as that.” It wasn’t helping the heat in your face.

A glance at the mirror over the bar, old and pitted and a little smoky, the perfect self-aware touch of authenticity. You’d never have recognized the woman looking back, not when you first met Copia, this exquisite creature with perfect makeup. Sharp. Sexy.

You don’t hate it.

“...Y’outdid yourself,” you said, slow. You didn’t look real to yourself, this absolute pinnacle of femininity. Copia’s gaze softened, warmed, less the slavering predator and more– a naked adoration that was hard to look at.

(Of course, neither expression was comparable to the first time he’d put you in an exquisitely tailored three-piece suit. You’d thought the man was going to pass out from how quickly his blood rushed south– but that’s a story for another day.)

He crowded your space, just this side of indecent, his knee halfway between your thighs. Copia fed you little morsels from his own fork of– whatever this was. A vaguely mediterranean inspired amuse-bouche. He took his time with it, making you duck your head while the cool tines slid against your lower lip. You kept his eyes for it, moving slow, relishing the way his mouth hung open.

It’s a little much, in public, truly.

You weren’t even sure what you were eating, something perfectly balanced with rich cream, phyllo dough, an acidic tang. Spanakopita when it’s got a Michelin star or two, you thought. Copia’s little shudder at your groan of appreciation didn’t escape your notice, but you managed to keep the smugness out of your expression with truly heroic effort.

From there, it was a short taxi ride with his gloved hand heavy on your knee, Copia keeping up a stream of polite chatter that you barely heard a word of. He’d gotten box seats in a lovely little jewel box of a theatre, for a revival of a classic two-man existential tragicomedy starring a couple of aging comedic actors known for their roles in a cultural zeitgeist film from around the turn of the last century.

It was a good effort, all told, and the actors weren’t bad– they had a chemistry borne out of twenty years of friendship that’s impossible to replicate. But Copia proved that he’s a true and faithful servant of the Devil somewhere around the start of the second act, when he peeled a glove off with his teeth.

Your chest went tight.

No wonder he wanted box seats, you thought, as he settled his hand back on your knee. Like it belonged there, like he had perfect possession of it, every right to edge just under the hem of your skirt.

(His hands-- you love his hands. He’s self-conscious about the hair on the back of them, the dusting of freckles. Large and well-made and skilled, seeing them is like sharing a secret. A gift. He’s squeamish about textures, too sensitive, the slightest scrape will make him shudder-- and not in a fun way. Sandpaper would be torture. Anything gelatinous is right out. You get used to the constant grime and the vague awareness of filth you get on your hands, living in a city. It’s not so bad, for you, you invest in hand sanitizer and don’t touch your face. It’s the price you pay for living in a place with something like a subway, where things pulse and hum and never truly sleep, to be a microbe in the gut of this beast of a city, to be a tiny cog in the great machine.

You love it here. You didn’t think you would. Hell, you didn’t think you could. “It’s growing on me,” you told Copia one day, cool as you like, as if you weren’t giving anything away. “A little.”

“You have no talent for bullshit, babydoll,” he said, both dry and terribly fond.)

All of your awareness focused on the soft warmth of him enveloping your knee, the rough scrape of his calluses on the inside of your thigh– a new sensation, he’s taken the acoustic guitar back up recently. Not moving, just–holding.

You kept your eyes forward, and your breathing even.

His thumb slid over your kneecap, absentmindedly tracing little circles. Your legs fell open a little wider, just so your thighs weren’t touching. You were terribly, achingly aware of the air on your cunt.

A soft stroke back and forth, a gesture that could have been reflexive, thoughtless– if it wasn’t for the beatific expression on his face, his eyes forward and too-innocent. It would have been more convincing if he hadn’t been inching his slow way upwards, featherlight touches, tracing up and back down, up and back down. Just a millimeter higher each time. An agonizingly slow drag, a glacial pace.

Your grip tightened on the armrest.

Copia leaned forward, his breath in your ear. “Why, gattina,” he purred. “I do not think you are even paying attention to the play.”

“You are,” you managed, “a real sunnavbitch, you know it?”

He only chuckled low, and ran his touch to the top of your thigh. The side of his hand brushed up against your wet cunt and you both gasped.

“You little slut,” he hissed, with obvious pride. “So eager for me already.”

He dragged the very tip of one finger up between your lips, so slick it was almost frictionless, pulling away just before he could touch your clit. You took a ragged breath that was nearly a whine, bereft at the loss of his touch. You felt your cunt clench over nothing, an involuntary contraction.

Copia hummed in mock-sympathy, and took mercy on you, cupping your whole cunt with his broad hand, steady and even pressure that was nowhere near enough, but at least took a little of the edge off.

His middle finger slid naturally between your labia majora, and settled there, his fingertip crooked so he could just barely feel the inside of you.

The bastard stayed that way for the rest of the performance, sometimes giving you a gentle squeeze, sometimes pulling away to slide his fingertip back up to circle your clit. Just often enough to keep your attention focused where he wanted.

Evil, evil man.

Copia retracted his hand before the lights went up, giving you one final squeeze. He kept your eyes as he brought his hand up to his face, inhaled deeply, and surreptitiously licked his palm before fitting his hand back into his glove for the applause.

“Play weren’t that bad,” you said, weakly. “No call to do- alla that.”

“Oh? Didn’t you tell me you had a crush on the– which was it, the one with the dark hair– as a little girl? You want to wait around, go to the stage door, get an autograph?” All innocence, all the accommodating boyfriend.

“I revise my previous opinion. You are the Lebron James of being a sunnavabitch.” Despite your discomfort in heels, you couldn’t drag him to the train home fast enough.

So now, here you are. You shiver a little, in this hot and humid subway car, remembering. You bite your lip and can taste the wax of your lipstick.

Copia sees it, of course he does, how your eyes go just a little glazed. He smirks a terribly self-satisfied smirk. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, this’d cost you at least a dollar. Maybe five nintey-nine.”

“Inflation is just outrageous these days. Highway robbery. I’m shocked.”

“Not yet, you aren’t.”

“You are talking a big game, babydoll. Be careful, I think, ehh-- your mouth is writing checks your ass can’t cash.” His hand heavy on your hip, almost indecent. His boot between your shoes, the sweet curve of his thigh displacing your skirt. He’s so close, so warm and solid. The train is packed, but he’s all you can see, all you can feel. His breath in your ear, pitched low. “Your pussy can’t cash.”

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from grinding on his thigh in the middle of the train. “Sweetness,” you croak out. “We’re in public.”

He leans back, conciliatory. Terribly smug. The world fades back in. You catch a teenager in a hoodie smirking at the two of you, a direct and uncomfortable gaze that feels more taboo in this city than even the way your hips keep shifting, restless. You feel almost drunk, stepping into the warmth of his body and his hard cock between your hip and your belly, a little vindictive, relishing his frustrated little grunt in your ear.

“Two more stops, gattina,” he murmurs, as much for his benefit as yours. You see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “We can make it.”

“Mm-hmm,” you manage.

He drags you roughly by your elbow off the train, in a way that has your fellow passengers actually making a faint murmur of disapproval at the way he growls. He might be leaving a bruise on your arm. Can’t be helped. You’re laughing up the stairs, your heels loud on the concrete and metal, giddy, just this side of hysterical.

He’s clumsy with the keys when you get to your apartment building, following you up the stairs so he can look up your skirt. “Can’t believe– I watched you put those on.”

“You just mad you didn’t get to watch me take ‘em off.”

He’s on your neck like a lamprey when you get to your door, and now it’s your turn to be clumsy while you paw through your purse, his hot wet mouth insistent, just under your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. His hands firm on your breasts, pushing the neckline of your dress down so he can fill his hands with them, gripping almost hard enough to hurt. He’s trapping you against the door, grinding into your ass while you fumble with the lock.

“What’re you– you tryna fuck me in the hallway?” you gasp. He’s reaching up your skirt now, his bare palm at the top of your stocking. When did he take his gloves off?

“I will,” he growls, “if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”

You somehow make it in the door without breaking the key off in the lock, and you give him just enough time to slide the bolt home before you’re shoving him onto the couch. You’re in his lap just as quick, your mouth on his, nearly biting him as he laughs into your mouth. Christ, you didn’t even get out of your heels.

He’s warm under you, solid muscle under a sweet softness around the middle, and you can’t unbutton his shirt fast enough. His tongue in your mouth is making you clumsy, making it hard to keep track of how buttons work, shorting out basic motor functions. When you make it, you groan at his fur under your palms, and then he shoves his thigh between your legs and you whine when you grind your wet cunt against it. You have to break off from his mouth for it, clinging to his shoulders.

Your lipstick is all over Copia’s face. He’s grinning, rapt, delighted, impossibly fond. The man’s face is so pink it looks like he’s been slapped around. “Good, eh?” He pushes his thigh forward again, his hand up your dress and on your ass. “You like that?” He’s pulling you into it, making you drag your cunt over his tight jeans. The seam running down the front of his thigh hits your clit and you gasp. “So fucking desperate you need to hump my leg, filthy little thing.”

You roll against him once or twice more, because he’s right, it feels so good, those long runner’s thighs, the coiled power of him. That hard muscle and rough fabric against you, his body between your knees, so warm and familiar and beloved.

But his smirk is just a little too smug for your taste, so you have to make yourself stop before you fall too deep into a rhythm. Even if you actually hurt with being so turned on for so long. You get his shirt the rest of the way open, have to bend your head to suck a nipple into your mouth– the terrible brand over his heart level with your eyes– and bite. It’s not hard, but it does raise his back off the couch, and distract him from you eeling down between his legs to kneel on the floor.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, looking down at you, knowing (some of) what you have in mind.

Your hand is on his belt buckle, and the sheer Pavlovian reaction you have to the sound of undoing it with one hand forces you to press your cheek to his thigh and focus on your breathing for a moment.

You laugh, shaky. You left an actual wet spot on his jeans.

Copia’s hand is in your hair, fingernails running along your scalp, soothing, grounding you. “Baby?” he asks. “Babydoll, are you alright? We don’t have to–”

“No.” You catch your breath, look back up at him, and his mismatched eyes go from soft and sweet to almost afraid, when he sees your expression. The hunger there– you could eat him alive. “No, I was just– too turned on, for a second.”

“Oh.” He pets at you again, then his smile turns predatory as he sweeps your hair up in one hand and pulls tight. “Then why don’t you get to sucking my cock, puttana?”

Just for that, you lean up and bite at his belly, the sweet furry softness just below his navel. You laugh with a mouthful of his flesh at his yelp, how it turns into a groan as you unzip his jeans and take him in hand.

It isn’t as if you aren’t intimately (haha) familiar with his dick, but it’s always nice to see. You’d called it pretty, the first time you’d slept with him, and it really is an accurate description. (It had been emotional for a great many reasons, but that had touched him in ways he still couldn’t articulate.) Silky soft skin over the hard length of him, his head already shiny with precum. It’s the same color as his lips, under the paint.

“You see what you do to me, gattina?” he murmurs above you. “You wreck me. You’ve ruined me– or at least these pants.”

“It’ll come out in the wash,” you say, and take him into your mouth, slow suction, tasting salt. He fills your mouth, fills your hand, blood-warm and firm in your grip. You watch his eyes when you start to suck him down, loving, as you always do, how in that first moment he looks at you, whimpers at you, like you're breaking his heart.

You hear the dry click of him swallowing as you pull the soft skin of his cock further towards your mouth, your grip twisting, the slow churn of it. How his veins give under your lips, under your hand. It doesn’t take long to get him slick, the thick ridge of the underside of him heavy on your tongue. The musk of him fills your whole senses, thick and animal and a little gross.

His hips shift, and before you have to pull yourself off of him to tell him to talk, he’s doing what you want. “Look at you,” he breathes, reverent. “You’re so good at this, fucking made for this,” a twitch upwards, a movement too small to be called a thrust, “aren’t you? Born for this, your god made you to suck my cock. My perfect– ohh– perfect little cocksucker. Want it so bad, don’t you?”

His hand is heavy on the back of your skull, pushing you down with that even, steady pressure just how he likes. How you both like. “Don’t worry. I’ll give it to you, give you what you want.” He’s not choking you with it, you have plenty of room to work with your hand. Still, as you take him down further, swallowing around the thick length of him, you feel hot tears running down your cheeks, sheer dumb animal reaction. You slip your other hand to cradle his slick balls, rolling them gently, the weight of them a little cooler than the rest of his body. He makes a strangled noise, an “Ohh fuck, baby, babydoll, so good for me, so good to me, fuck, fuck–!”

His stutter and his loss of control are just too much, finally, you feel the air of the apartment cool at the top of your slick thighs, your swollen cunt, and you have to do something about it. You take your hand from his balls and slide it up your skirt, slowly enough to feel your silk stockings under your fingertips, slow enough that Copia catches it.

Just as you register how fucking wet you are, his eyes go wide and his hips shudder, the smooth hot head of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

Your grip tightens on the base of his cock, a warning. You freeze, staring blank and unseeing at his soft belly, before looking up at him imploringly. “Okay,” he says, gentling you like a frightened horse. His big hand moving in your hair. “Okay. But baby,” he's nearly whining as you slowly suckle on the head of him, faint living salt in your mouth, “I know you want it, you’re too fucking good at that to not want it, I. Ohhh.” His hand grips tight in your hair as you swallow around him, thick and hot on your tongue. “Oh, fuck.”

You’re finding your pace on his cock again, a little faster, your hands working in time on his cock, on your clit. Freshly shaved like this, you’re fantastically, impossibly slippery. “Ohh, fuck. Oh, sweet Satan. Oh my dear Lord Below.” Copia absolutely doesn’t know what he’s saying, he so rarely gets outright religious on you. It’s an unspoken courtesy you’ve extended to each other, so to hear him break it sends a smug little charge through you. You whimper a little around his cock, give yourself a little more pressure on your clit. He can’t keep still, not all the way, even though you know he’s trying, making little aborted movements of his hips.

Copia swallows. It’s remarkable how you can see him trying to pull himself together. “Knew you loved this,” he says, his voice creaking. “Can’t be that good at something if you don’t love it. Didn’t know you loved it this much, gattina.” A little more pressure on the back of your skull, his nails scraping your scalp. He isn’t exactly holding you down, but he isn’t letting you pull off, either. “Never had my cock sucked this good, never even had a man suck my cock this good, thought I liked that better, before you came along. Had so many people suck this cock–” and that hurts, a hot bolt of pain and arousal that hits your heart and your clit at the same time. Your pace falters, and it must show, because Copia slows as well.

It’s a sore spot. You know that his own inverted form of celibacy in the Ministry included a certain implied… availability that could be, charitably, unpleasant for him at times. Clergy take no wives, no husbands, but give themselves freely to their congregation. You haven’t pushed him on the things that happened to him, he usually insists it was fine, expected, normal– but you generally have to go for a long walk and break something after you talk about it. You know, too, that he had positive experiences there, genuinely caring relationships. It doesn’t exactly help matters that your own knowledge of partnered sex, before Copia, falls radically short of the mean for someone in your age group.

All of that goes through your head in a flash, and he knows it, he can read you so well, even between one stroke of his cock and the next. “Only– didn’t know you’d have a natural talent at this.” Petting at you, soothing, his thumb moving tender on your cheekbone. “Remember, how I had to teach you how to kiss, those hours in the park.” You make a noise on him, not sure if this is helping. “Loved that, babydoll, loved doing that with you, teaching you, drove me wild.” He’s murmuring low to you, his voice a little rough, a little too exposed. “But I– I was ready for you to bite it off, the first time you went down.”

Awkward thing, laughing with a mouth full of dick. But he keeps going. “I didn’t know, my baby. I didn’t know how it could feel. Didn’t know how good it could be.” He twitches in your mouth, in time with a tiny movement of his hips, so warm and alive in you. “Taught you how to kiss, but babylove, I swear I felt like a virgin when you took me to bed.” His voice is low and wrecked for different reasons than it was before, and oh no, his eyes are wet.

You let go of him, turn your head to wipe your mouth on your shoulder, quick and perfunctory. You can't take your eyes from him. "Sug," you say, unsure how to continue, the twisting in your chest too much for words, beyond anything you could articulate with language. Your knees creak a little as you start to get up, to do what you don't know. Kiss him or touch him or say something, anything, to the way he's looking at you.

Copia pushes you back down, his hand heavy at the back of your neck. His thumb slots right at the base of your skull, right where he likes to keep it when he kisses you. “No, no, you’re too good at this, I wouldn’t interrupt an artist.” Back in some semblance of control. “You’re too good, you make me feel too good, show me. Will you--? Please, baby, will you show me how it can be good--?"

"Well," you say, pumping slow at his cock. "I can try." You press a tiny kiss to the head of him, too sweet for the situation, relishing the way he shivers. You take him in, how his hair is a disaster, sticking up in the back, his shirt open, your makeup smeared all over his face, his body, the parts of his thighs that you can reach. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes a little glazed, his lips swollen from the way you kissed them and the way he's bitten them. He's wrecked, and he's yours.

You love him. With all your heart, all your mind, and, you're afraid, all your soul. It hurts to look at him, you think he might sear your eyes right out of your skull.

You close your eyes against it, at how it stings, and nuzzle into the silky skin of his cock. Copia's belly is soft, warm, furred, delightfully sticky under your touch, as you run your hand up the front of him, up until you're cupping the sweet curve of his pectoral, until you can feel the cruel scar of his branding under the pads of your fingers. You trace over it, mapping the vector of those interlocking sixes. You feel his pulse under your palm, under your lips. You drag your mouth back and forth, just to feel the soft, delicately crenelated skin, the coolness of his flesh here soothing your feverishness.

Copia makes a tiny wounded noise as his hand presses over yours. As if he could press his heart into your hand. He’s better at language than you’ve ever been, but you can see it falter and fail for him. All you know how to do is– action. It feels inadequate, somehow.

Your dear man. He sees you, and raises your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles in a courtly gesture. It should be absurd, with you on your knees for him, with the delicate skin of his cock against your mouth. Somehow, it isn’t, the alchemy of his tenderness conveying exactly what he means. What you mean, with the most vulnerable part of him between your teeth. “D’you want me to take you to bed, babydoll?”

“No,” you say, pulling off of him long enough to murmur it against his slick head. “Later, maybe. If you’re up to it. Right now, I want–” It’s easier to wrap your lips around him again, to tell him that way. You’re more eloquent with your mouth this way than you ever were with language.

“Alright,” he says, almost a gasp, as he returns your hand to you. “Touch yourself for me?” Almost pleading. As if your pleasure were a favor to bestow on him. “I want– wanna see you get off, my baby, wanna see how much you love doing this. So fucking hot–” His voice breaks off into a whine as you pull him further into your mouth.

His big hand on your head, stroking your hair back, so sweetly. “Do you want me to be a little mean? I know you like that.”

You moan around his cock in an unmistakable affirmative, rut a little harder into your hand, plead with your eyes.

Copia’s smile turns sharp, wicked. “My perfect little cocksucker.” The deep affection in his voice belies the words. “Perfect little cumslut.” Your hand is already back between your legs, and you might– might– be moving your hips a little more theatrically than strictly necessary.

He holds the back of your neck, the base of your skull, his grip tight. Just this side of painful. “You know how to tap out. How to get me to stop.” He pushes you down on him as he tilts his hips up to you, not quite cutting off your air. “But you’re not gonna do that, are you?”

Copia licks his lips. He looks feverish, making shallow little thrusts into your mouth. “No, you. Ohh, you like this too much.” He’s so careful, even like this, testing just how hard he can thrust, finding your limit and pushing just past it before backing down. It makes you moan, makes you shiver, makes your hand speed up on your cunt in time with the way he’s pushing into your throat.

“Cruel to me,” he croons, as he uses your mouth. “Keeping that sweet little pussy from me.” He’s panting. “I can hear it, hear how wet you are.” As he says it, you realize you can, too, the wet noise in counterpoint to the sound of you working his cock. “M’gonna make you pay for it. Hope you’re ready, gonna eat you out till m’hard again.” He’s got both hands on your head now, and he’s too far into you for you to use your hand on him.

“You’ll. Hnn. You’ll need me to, to eat you out. Make you cum on my face.” If it weren’t for the sheer adoration in his eyes, this would be brutal, the way he’s pushing into your throat. The speed of your hand on your clit. Moving with him, point and counterpoint. “Fuck, I’m gonna wreck it, gonna split your pretty little cunt open– I’ll last longer, after I cum down your throat.” You whine around his cock, your cunt clenching on nothing, shivering against your hand.

Copia sounds like he’s in pain. It feels like he can’t stop himself, the way his hips are working. “Gattina,” he whines, helplessly. “Can’t– can’t last much longer, you looking at me like that.” You can feel him trembling under your touch. “D’you. You want it?” Movements a little more shallow, holding himself in check. “You want this cum in your mouth?” A rough, jagged thrust. “Little slut–!” he hisses, and he’s not quite too far gone to grin in smug delight at the way you moan in reaction.

“Gonna cum like this?” he croons, taunting. His white eye bores into you, too bright, and he looks crazed. Deranged. It’s almost frightening, the way you can’t look away from it. Your eyes burn, hot tears on your cheeks, and you couldn’t stop rubbing your cunt if you tried. The way he’s watching you, the way he sees just how turned on you are by him using you like this. Like it’s shameful. “From me fucking your slut mouth like a little cocksleeve.” His voice is creaking, nearly out of control. “You want this cum? You want it? Hmm?”

You’re hanging on by a thread, your nerves strung out like piano wire, helpless before him. Your jaw hurts, his hand so tight in your hair. “Then take it.” He’s beckoning you over the edge, chanting, rapt. “Take it, take my cum, take my fucking cum–” he rasps, knowing exactly what will set you off, will snap the bright line of you.

You see his smile as you break, whining around his cock. How he lights up at it, overjoyed, crooked and tender. You hold his eyes the whole time, giving him as much of it as you can, letting him see all of it, the shining abyssal affection that crashes through your body for him, catching your nerve endings like fire through tinfoil.

“Ohh–! Precious,” he says, almost crying, “my precious girl, my baby, my–” his voice breaks on your name, the syllables like a song, like a prayer, like something more than holy, like the shahada, like the shema, like it's the last thing that he knows. You never knew your name until he held it in his mouth like this, at the uttermost end of himself. He’s flooding over your tongue, slick and bitter. Like the first jet from the fountain in school, sun-warmed metal, iron from the earth, living water.

His cock jumps in your mouth, and you’re shaking, trembling through your aftershocks and his as you swallow all of him, pull all of him into you, watching his eyes and his blissed out expression until his voice does– something wrecked. “You–!” he gasps, delighted. “C’mere, come up here, you’re too– too far away–” he’s pulling at you, babbling, delirious, so soft now.

Copia’s pulling you up, into his arms, his lap, too quick for you to wipe his cum and your spit from your mouth. “Dunno if I like it, you that far away, wanna feel your pretty little body when you cum, you–” And then he’s kissing on you, shivering, laughing, little pecks along your jawline till he reaches your mouth. He makes a deep, appreciative groan when he tastes himself on your lips. He pulls back to look at you, almost scandalized in delight.

You have to laugh at him. For once you can’t be bothered to be self-conscious about it. “Oh, I do like that,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before he dives back in, like he has to get all of it. You’re still shaky, a fine shiver all down your spine. He’s almost clumsy, licking into your mouth, a real rarity for him. You try not to feel too smug about it.

You can’t stop smiling, when you finally get your mouth back. “Acceptable, then?”

“So good. Every time, I can’t believe–” he’s nuzzling at you, his nose against yours, totally uninhibited in his affection. “So perfect, so sweet, love you so much, thank you, thank you, baby–” Nonsense babble. Incoherently effusive. He scoops your legs across his lap and runs his hands over all of your skin that he can reach. “Perfetta…sei perfetta. Angioletto,” he murmurs, and you shiver. You haven’t heard that one in a while. “Angioletto mio,” he’s saying, into your hair, your skin, and it’s rare that you blow him all the way back to Italian. “Sei tutto ciò che voglio del Paradiso.” You’re a little too fucked-out to parse that all the way, but it still snags in your heart a little.

(He knows, usually, how you still aren’t used to being loved on this much. You know he restrains himself, tries not to overwhelm you. It breaks your heart, sometimes, when you see him hold himself back, even as his consideration makes you warm.)

Now, though, it’s good. It’s perfect. His pants are half off, his dick out, ridiculous. You think you might have snapped a garter, and you definitely put ladders in these stockings. You couldn’t give less of a shit. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, letting out a deep, contented sigh.

Copia’s still petting you– appropriate enough. You feel like a cat in a sunbeam, even supremely disheveled like this.

He squeezes you lightly, again, and makes a little noise in the back of his throat. “The, enh– the talking. It wasn’t too much?” Like he’s shy, all of a sudden.

“Noo!” You have to pull back to look up at him. “No, holy shit, sweetness, it was inspired. Even for you! Hot damn, baby. ‘Cocksleeve,’ where did that come from?”

“Ehh– a couple of times, there, I’m, ah. Not even sure I remember what I was saying.” Is he blushing? It’s adorable.

“No, it was great. I’d tell you if it weren’t, honeybunch.” You lean your head back against him, boneless and warm all the way through. “Naw, this was awesome. Ten outta ten, go Team Us.” You hold up your hand for a high-five, and your sweet man, he’ll never leave you hanging– the slap rings loud through your living room.

He tilts his head back onto the couch, looking up at the Devil’s Ivy crawling over your bookshelves. “Although,” he says, slow, considering. “I do seem to recall that I promised you I was gonna make you cum on my face.”

“And split my pussy open,” you remind him. “Or was you writing checks your dick can’t cash?”

“Babydoll, don’t you know by now?” He’s turning back to look at you, his mismatched eyes full of predatory adulation. “The Devil always keeps his promises.”

185 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 1 year ago

Text

Copia on ICE! ~ part one ~

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus...

~ I commissioned @enjoy-my-swearing to bring speed skater Copia to life so please take a moment to appreciate her amazing work (especially the butt sparkles) ~

Warnings: a vague understanding of how the Winter Olympics actually works also their ages are obviously gonna be a little funky so just roll with it, angst, fluff, smug copia, fingering, dirty talk, lots of kissing, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, about 15k words

“Elegant…graceful…soft.”

Your coach’s words echoed in your head as you skated across the ice. Reminders of how figure skaters should appear while they perform. The music to your short program reached its crescendo in your head and you pushed yourself into your first jump, quickly leaping into the second as you landed. You spun towards the stands with your arms extended out, smiling towards all the imaginary people looking on.

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

He bent down to start untying his skates and shoved them along with the rest of his things into his gym bag. You tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as you watched him work. Terzo was so much more carefree than you were, something you really appreciated in the last few years. You were still recovering from a knee injury when you first met him and his humor and kindness had done wonders for you. It also helped that as soon as you had met his older brother you basically had been adopted into the family.

Primo was a member of the curling team and while it wasn’t the most popular sport his success made him fairly well known. He had spent most of his life acting like a father to his three younger brothers. Their actual father, Nihil, had been absent for much of their life. If you asked any of them they would state that Primo was the head of the family and wouldn’t bring up Nihil’s name at all.

Secondo was the second oldest, an imposing and stern man to anyone outside his close circle of family and friends. He had spent most of his life playing hockey, one of the best goaltenders that the sport had ever seen. His nickname was Bone Daddy although few dared call him that to his face. The design of his mask was that of a terrifying skull, a design he had claimed had been used by Emeritus family members from long ago.

Although you were pretty sure the story he told you about the family running a Satanic Church was completely made up.

His terrifying reputation on the ice was enhanced by the fact that under his mask and helmet he painted his face with the same skull design. Secondo reveled in pulling his mask off to startle members of the opposing team and referees alike. He probably would still be tending goal if he hadn't injured his shoulder years prior. Now he was the head coach of the Italy team, skull makeup still proudly worn every game and oftentimes in between.

The one brother you hadn’t met yet was Copia. Although with as much as the media loved to talk about him each Winter Olympics you were surprised you hadn’t. Copia was one of the most decorated athletes in any Olympic sport. You had been hoping to run into him at some point, mostly just so you could meet the entire family, but deep down you could admit there was another reason: Copia Emeritus was gorgeous.

The entire family was to be more accurate, but Copia was the face that had the habit of popping into your head when you were daydreaming. It didn’t help that he seemed to be everywhere right now. With what was being touted as his last Olympic Games it seemed like every reporter was clamoring to interview him. You’d seen his face across a majority of the magazines littered around the Olympic village lounge area and you really hoped Terzo never found the one you had already swiped to look at later.

Your musings were interrupted when Terzo zipped his bag closed and stood up, seemingly looking around for something. You snorted when you realized what he was missing.

“You left your coat in our room, remember?” Terzo’s shoulders slumped and he groaned. “Something about ‘giving everyone a show’ while we walked here?” When he grabbed yours that you’d thrown over the rink wall you got up as well. “Hey, no that’s mine!”

“Per favore, amica mia?” He got distracted by his phone beeping again and after a quick look he turned to you even more desperate. “Omega wants to go sightseeing and then go back to his room after…”

“And you’re dressed like that.” He nodded at you while he pouted and really, that shouldn’t work as well as it did. “Ok, fine! You might as well take my sweatpants too, don’t need the entire town seeing your ass hanging out.”

In short order you had your friend bundled up and ready for his date. It was cute to see him continually checking his phone, you’d never seen Terzo so excited about a date before. You were about to go back out on the ice and start practicing again when the doors at the back of the stands opened and a figure blocked out the light.

“Terzo that guy looks like he could break you in half.”

“Fuck I hope so.” He pulled you into a fierce hug before starting up the stairs. “Don’t wait up!”

“I suppose I’ll need to take your bag back to our room?”

Terzo turned and flashed you a grin before making it up to Omega and practically launching into the guy’s arms. Omega held up a hand and you waved back, lowering it with a sigh when the two men went out the door and left you alone. You turned back towards the rink, shooting a glare at the two huge bags you’d now have to lug back to the village. Well, no use worrying about that now, you had two hours left to practice and you were determined to get your routine perfect.

Anything less than that wouldn’t get a medal around your neck.

Hours later you were exhausted and desperately wanting to be out of your costume and back in your room. Easier said than done considering you had to lug both yours and Terzo’s things back with you.

“Goddammit. Ugh!” You straightened up, lifting Terzo’s bag and slinging it over your head as you turned. “He better be the lay of the centur—shit!”

As you turned to head towards the exit you ran right into a solid something. You immediately took a step away but with the extra weight hanging off your back you kept going, falling backwards and landing on your ass. With a groan you let your head fall back onto the ground. The man you had slammed into was laughing, a deep chuckle that reminded you too much of Terzo. You heard fabric rustle and then felt a hand touch your knee.

“Is uh, everything okie dokie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” With a groan you started to sit up, flailing a bit until the man grabbed one of your hands to help. “You know you shouldn’t sneak up…oh.”

Copia Emeritus was mere inches away from you.

His brown hair was combed back, flecks of gray catching on the fluorescent lights. There was some dark makeup around a familiar set of eyes, one green and one white. A carefully groomed mustache sat above a full set of lips. Your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body, the jacket was emblazoned with the colors of the Italian flag. Below that he seemed to be wearing a uniform, tight fabric hugging his hips and—

“Sneak up on?”

“Thighs!”

Damn it. You dropped your head into your hand with a groan.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Uh, yes?” The man crouched down again, a gloved hand pulling your own away from your face. When you dared to look at him he was smirking, another familiar feature shared with your friend. You decided to try for indifference and hoped he bought it. “Copia?”

“Copia.” He placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers probing through your hair. You tried to swat at his hand but he easily grabbed it with his free one. “Quit that, I’m trying to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m fine! It’s fine.” Copia pulled away, holding his hands up in surrender. You ignored the little pang of…whatever after he did so. Instead you focused on pulling the bag straps off your shoulders and trying to get up. Sheepishly you met Copia’s eyes, scrunching your nose up at the amused look on his face. “Could you lend me a hand?”

“Oh now you want a hand, eh?” He chuckled at your grumbling, taking your hands and easily pulling you to your feet. “Upsy daisies.”

“Daisy.”

“Is that your name?”

“No, it’s—upsy daisy. Not daisies.” When Copia gave you a confused look you groaned and turned around, glaring down at the bags. There were more feathers from your costume resting on the ground and you quickly knelt down to grab them. “Damn it.”

“What is this anyway?” You looked up at him as you picked up the feathers, narrowing your eyes at the fingers wiggling your way. “Your clothes.”

“It’s my costume.”

“Costume for what?”

“I’m a figure skater.”

“Ah, so you probably know mio fratello, Terzo.”

“Unfortunately.” You chose to ignore how handsome his smile made him look, standing up again with a handful of white feathers. He kept eyeing your costume, looking up and down your body with what you hoped was appreciation. “What?”

“You are uh, una paperina?”

“Huh? Yeah. You know, Swan Lake.” Copia was biting his lip, looking to be about two seconds from laughing. Ok so, not appreciation. “What now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just remembering Terzo covered in feathers when he skated to that too.”

“It’s a popular song.”

“Sí, I think everyone skates to it at least once.”

What the fuck?

“And? It’s a good song!”

“Paperina, I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Skating to Swan Lake is a lot more difficult than skating in a circle.”

Ha! That got him. Copia’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is it now? Have you ever watched speed skating?” He huffed when you shook your head. “I think if you watched you would change your mind.”

“Yes, well I’m busy right now so I’ll take a rain check.” You turned and knelt down again, shoving the feathers in a pocket of your bag and then slinging the strap over your head. “It’s late, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

“What?” As you stood up you couldn’t stop yourself from wavering on your feet again, but this time Copia kept his hands to himself. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, doesn’t the swan turn into a pumpkin if they aren’t back home at midnight?”

“You are mixing two very, very different fairy tales.” Copia shrugged, seemingly unbothered with fairy tale lore. As you reached down and picked up Terzo’s bag your balance shifted again but you moved away when Copia reached out to steady you. “I got it!”

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are Paperina?”

“Once or twice.” You took a few steps to the side to go around Copia but he moved to block you. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Once or twice.” God, even his smile was annoying. And handsome. Damn it. “I’m actually looking for my brother.”

“He left a while ago with some guy.”

“Of course. Hockey player?”

You couldn’t help but grin, it was clear Copia knew his brother well.

“The captain of the Swedish team in fact.”

“Ha! Secondo is gonna love that.” He looked down and motioned towards Terzo’s bag. “Isn’t that his?”

“I’m taking it back to our room for him. Apparently. Hey!”

“Allow me.” He easily tugged the bag out of your hands, grinning in response to your narrowed eyes. “Where’s your coat? It’s too cold out there for Swan Lake.”

“Terzo needed it more.” At Copia’s raised eyebrow you just shrugged. “His costume has a lot of lace.”

“Ah, should have known.” He sighed and set his brother’s bag down, bringing his hands up to the zipper on his hoodie and quickly pulling it off. “Wear this while I walk you back.”

“I don’t need your escort or your hoodie.”

“You are unfortunately getting both Paperina so chop, chop. Let’s go.”

You both stared each other down, although his look was much more amused than yours was.

“Fine, whatever. Gimme.” His little smug grin had you gritting your teeth. It was unfair that he looked this good. Once you had his hoodie on and zipped up you held your arms out. “Happy?”

The look he gave you then was definitely appreciative. Lingering long enough on your face that you hoped he thought your red cheeks were from the cold and not your blush.

“Molto felice.” Copia easily swung Terzo’s bag over his shoulder and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You first Paperina.”

The walk back to the Olympic Village was mostly quiet. Once or twice you thought you heard him singing softly under his breath but he stopped whenever you glanced his way. You were trying very hard not to stare at him. Copia carried himself in that confident way athletes at the top of their game had. It made you self conscious and you immediately straightened up, pulling your shoulders back and correcting your posture.

It had been a while since you’d been at the top of yours.

The large lounge area on the main floor was still mostly full. Athletes from all sports and countries getting to know each other or sitting quietly on their own. Four years ago you’d be down here with them, finding new friends and connections. You couldn’t afford that this year though, not with so much on the line.

“Paperina?” Copia’s voice dragged you from your melancholy thoughts. You expected to see an amused look on his face but instead he looked almost concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. I’m good. Actually this is good.” He raised an eyebrow when you held your hands out for Terzo’s bag. “I got it from here.”

“Terzo already bitched at me about how far away his room was, let me help.”

“No it’s fine, really.” Copia sighed, seemingly understanding he wasn’t going to win. “Thank you for your help though.”

“It’s nothing. The least I could do, uh, since my brother left you.”

“I’m not mad, it was for a good cause.”

“Sí, a hockey captain.” You stared at each other for a moment, long enough that you started fidgeting under his stare. “Have a good night Paperina.”

“You too Copia.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading off, disappearing into a crowd of Canadians. With a sigh you began to make your way towards the elevators for your section of the dorms. Terzo was right, your room was far away. But it was nice to be able to room with your friend. You knew Terzo had thrown his family name around, and probably a little money, to make it happen. It made times he did stupid things like tonight more bearable.

Still, it didn’t stop you from dropping both your bags down in front of your door with a curse aimed his way. Another curse left you when you noticed the sock on the doorknob. You started knocking on the door sharply, turning your hand to hit it with the side of your fist when nothing happened.

“Terzo!”

There was muffled cursing behind the door and the sound of something being knocked over before it opened and your friend shoved his head through the opening.

“Sí?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Didn’t you see the sock?” You flinched back when Terzo yanked it off the doorknob and swung it in front of your face. “I’m having sex!”

“Good for you, why are you having sex in our room? I thought you were going back to Omega’s!”

“Ah well, you see his roommate had already claimed the room. So. Here we are.” Terzo’s grin turned into a grimace when you twisted his nipple. “Ai! I just got that pierced!”

“I don’t care! I am tired, I am cold and I’m dressed like a fucking swan. Let me in.”

“I am begging you to go away.”

“Where am I supposed to go?!”

“I don’t know! Go mingle downstairs! Show off your feathers.” He jerked back, slamming into the door to get away from your fingers. “Stop pinching!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“Amica mia, please. Omega.” Terzo gestures towards the door in that hopeless way he did when he was struggling to find the right words. “I like him.”

“Like like?” He rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod. Goddammit. “Alright! But just tonight though!”

“Sí, sí. Just tonight.” Terzo tugged you in for a quick hug, pressing a noisy kiss into your temple before pulling away. His hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at your chest. You were about to tell him off for staring before you realized he was looking at the hoodie. Copia’s hoodie. “Where did you get this?”

“Your brother came looking for you and took pity on me.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen next to that costu—ow, ow! What did I say! They are healing!” He hissed at you as he pressed himself back into the door, his arms crossed comically high on his chest. “Are you two friends now?”

“Sure, we’re best friends. I think we’ll room together at the next Olympics.” When Terzo started waggling his eyebrows you groaned. “Shut up.”

“This is his last one, amica.” You gave him a questioning look but Terzo just shrugged. “That’s what he’s been saying at least.”

“Anyway, how long do you need? Five minutes? Ten?”

“You did see Omega, right? Try five hours.” You wrinkled your nose at the thought and Terzo gleefully continued, “He likes to switch too. Is this…is this what love feels like?”

“Two hours. No, stop pouting. You have two hours Terzo before I break the door down.”

“Fine. Deal.” He opened the door again and grabbed the bags, quickly tossing them inside before spinning around with a grin on his face. “Go make some new friends while I make some babies.”

He laughed at the horrified look on your face, taking advantage of it to slip back into the room and shut the door. The sound of the lock clicking was loud in the empty hallway. You sighed and shoved your hands into your borrowed hoodie, looking down at it for a moment and then freezing when you saw the feathers peeking out from below.

“Fuck.”

The lounge was thankfully a little quieter when you got back down there. No one gave you any weird looks at least. You found a seat close to one of the big fireplaces and settled down, letting the heat wash over you. Hopefully no one would bat an eye if you fell asleep, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time an athlete had been locked out of their room for one reason or another.

“Paperina?” You groaned and looked up into the face of Terzo’s brother. “What are you doing down here?”

His clothes were different, you could see the blue of his skating suit peeking out at his neck and at his wrists. He had reapplied the makeup around his eyes too, as well as covering just his upper lip. It probably would bother you more if Terzo didn’t regularly wear skull makeup during his routines. The Emeritus family was interesting, you had to give them that.

“Your brother and the hockey captain were there.” A flash of irritation washed over Copia’s face so you quickly reached out and grasped his hand. When he glanced down at it you immediately let go, watching as he flexed it afterwards. “It’s fine, I gave him two hours.”

“You’re going to sit here for two hours?”

“Yes, it’s ok. I’ve got the fire and I can take a little nap.” You flinched when a few guys started shouting at something playing on a tv nearby. “I’m good.”

“You’re too nice Paperina, that stronzino doesn’t deserve you.” Copia held both of his hands out to you smiling when you just stared at them. “Let’s go, you can come with me.”

“Come with you where? Hey!”

He had reached down and grabbed your hands, easily pulling you out of the chair and ushering you ahead of him towards the door.

“If you’re gonna just sit somewhere you can sit and watch me skate in circles. How about that?”

He looked cocky and sure of himself, exactly how you’d expect an eight time gold medalist to look. You bit your lip as you thought it over. Speed skating had never been a sport you sought out to watch. Skating in circles was boring, no one could convince you otherwise. But you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, at the sweatpants you knew were covering that tight uniform. The tight uniform over those huge thighs.

At least the scenery would be nice.

“How long will this take?”

“Eh, usually I practice for three hours.”

“I gave Terzo two.”

“We both know he’ll beg you for one more so just sit here like a good little Swan Lake and watch, okie dokie?”

“Ugh, fine.” Copia raised an eyebrow when you shivered, the hoodie of his not doing much against the cold of the rink. Your thin costume underneath didn’t help either. “I’m fine.”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be fine?”

His question stunned you long enough you didn’t even protest when he pulled his coat off and threw it over you. Copia was grinning when you yanked it off your head, watching as you situated it over yourself for a moment before he headed towards the locker rooms. You tried very hard not to watch him go but it was near impossible and you were too tired to care. After a few minutes of looking around you couldn’t help but burrow deeper into his coat, his cologne clinging to the fabric. You allowed yourself one deep inhale, your eyes closing briefly while you tried to pinpoint the brand.

“Acqua di Gio.” You flinched, nearly slipping off the bench at Copia’s voice. “Armani.”

“I know it’s Armani.”

Your voice came out a little harsher than you wanted but luckily he just seemed amused. After you had settled back into your seat you managed to look him over. Gone were the sweatpants, he was now just in his sleek skating suit and it was clinging to every dip and curl of muscle on his body. You didn’t even bother looking back up at his face, you knew by now he’d be smug as all hell. Instead you noticed a styrofoam cup in his hand, finally meeting his eyes when he held it out towards you.

“Hot cocoa. To warm you up.” You timidly reached out and took it, not even minding when his gloved fingers lingered against yours. “Unless you want more of my clothes.”

“Fuck off.” His chuckle was starting to become one of your favorite sounds and this was ridiculous, you barely knew him! You needed to get some distance and clear your head. “Go on, show me how well you can skate in a circle.”

His only answer was a smirk as he backed away a few steps before heading towards the opening to the rink. He pulled the covers off his blades, tossing them to the side before shooting out onto the ice. There were a few others already out there and it was fascinating to see them give Copia space, a sign of deference you supposed. He nodded their way but didn’t say anything, just started to go through a series of stretches while you all looked on.

Despite the public setting it felt very private. Terzo had been sharing a lot of little anecdotes about his brother since you’d both arrived at the Games. Information you wouldn’t hear about in anything official. You knew that Copia had been having problems with his knee, that it had been obviously bothering him more and more. He’d only received one gold in the last games when he normally would get it in all of his events. Since then he hadn’t competed much, a few European tournaments here and there.

According to Terzo he was saving himself for one last Olympic Games, this Olympic Games. Copia was determined to go out at the top of his game. With the way the media and even his brother had depicted him, an extremely serious athlete that seemed to live on the ice it was strange to look back on the last few hours and how he acted. He was far more carefree than you expected. Quick to joke around even if it was at your expense.

You had a feeling Paperina didn’t mean what you thought it did.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of skates gliding across the ice. It was louder than what you were used to but as you looked out towards the rink you easily figured out why. Copia was a blur as he moved across the ice, his powerful legs pumping him towards each corner. It was then he’d lower one side of his body down, his fingertips grazing the ice and keeping him balanced until he was through.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You smiled at the man that sat down next to you, someone you had looked forward to seeing as soon as you had arrived at the Olympic Village.

“Hi Primo.” He gave you a warm smile, knocking his shoulder against yours. “Did you come to cheer him on?”

“It seems that’s what he brought you for, hmm?” You rolled your eyes, hunkering further down into Copia’s coat. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We just met actually, a few hours ago.”

“Thick as thieves already then, I’m not surprised.” He ignored the questioning look you gave him so you shoved your elbow into his side. “Careful now, I’m an old man.”

“He just feels bad. Terzo kicked me out.”

“I warned you not to room with him.” He shook his head but he was clearly not surprised at Terzo’s antics. “A snowboarder?”

“Nope, hockey. The captain of the Sweden team.”

“Secondo is going to kill him.”

“Good, then I’ll have the room to myself.”

It was Primo’s turn to elbow you and when you looked his way he nodded towards the rink. Your eyes immediately found Copia’s as he leaned against the wall. He had taken his helmet off and his hair was all over the place. You could see how flushed his cheeks were already, his breathing heavy from the laps he’d put in.

“I don’t know, looks like you might have some company.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything back, but you were too dumbfounded to say anything anyway. Primo waved at his brother before giving your leg a squeeze and getting up. His movements were a little slower than you remembered but you knew when it was time for his event he’d be gliding across the ice just like he’d been doing for years. There was a reason he’d led the Italian curling team to so many podiums.

You took a long drink of your cocoa, a little disappointed it had lost most of its warmth. Copia was still looking your way when you glanced at him although you couldn’t read the expression on his face. The eye contact was lost when one of the other skaters stopped by him and you let out the breath you’d been holding when he looked away.

This was ridiculous, you were acting like some love struck teenager. You needed to get a grip. Neither one of you could afford distractions right now. Both of you skating with the same goal in mind but for very different reasons. As if on cue your knee twinged slightly and you slowly stretched it out in front of you. It was fine, it was going to be fine. You’d gotten silver in the last two tournaments you’d done leading up to this year's Olympics. It was fine.

You were fine.

“Hey.”

“Goddammit.” The man next to you was the same one that had been talking to Copia on the ice. You took a quick breath and glanced up at him. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m supposed to give you this.” He thrust another styrofoam cup towards you so you quickly set down the empty one you had been holding. “And this.”

In his other hand was one of those large soft pretzels that every concession stand on the planet sold. The kind covered in salt and butter. They were your favorite thing to get whenever you needed something quick to eat. You eagerly took it from the man’s hand, muttering a thanks when he nodded and then started walking towards the locker room.

Back on the ice Copia was doing laps again. Everyone else had left so it was just him out there, although he was acting like he was fighting off a handful of other skaters. His movements were truly mesmerizing. Even from your seat you could see his muscles move, see the concentration on his face as he made lap after lap.

He slid to a stop right in front of where you were sitting, catching your eyes as you took a huge bite of the pretzel. Part of it was sticking out of your mouth as you watched him. It was too late to try to be ladylike about it so you just ate it how you normally would. Copia held up a finger, gesturing at his wrist briefly. One more hour then. You nodded at him, saluting him with the rest of your pretzel and finding way too much joy in the sound of his laughter echoing from the rink.

“Is your knee ok?”

You were on your way back to the dorms, snow starting to softly fall around you. Copia had taken his hoodie back but you were still wearing his jacket. His cologne had probably permeated your costume at this point and you were stuck between liking the idea but also dreading the distraction it might bring.

“It’s good, feels good to walk.” You let your face fall into the neck of his coat, trying to hide your smile. “How about yours?”

“Eh it will be fine. A nice massage, some ice and it will be good as new.”

“I didn’t realize the clinics were open this late.”

“I’ll be massaging it myself, Paperina. That is unless you’re offering?”

“No! No I’m not.” He snorted and was shaking his head when you looked at him again. “What?”

“You don’t have to be so scandalized. What’s a little knee massage between friends huh?”

“So we’re friends?”

The automatic doors of the building slid open and you couldn’t help but start to walk faster. Copia easily picked up his pace to match yours, following you all the way to the elevators towards your section of the dorms.

“Is that what you want? To be friends?”

There was no denying the charged air between you two. The attraction between you both had been building ever since he had taken Terzo’s bag from you. You couldn’t help but take a step back though, wincing when a brief look of disappointment appeared on his face.

“I don’t think we can afford to be anything else.” You knew your face showed your own disappointment and you didn’t bother trying to hide it. Your fingers twisted nervously where they were hidden in the sleeves of his coat while you debated on saying what you wanted to. Fuck it. “At least for right now.”

“Right now?” His smile was back as he walked towards you. It grew slightly predatory when you started to back away, only stopping when your back hit the wall by the elevator doors. “Then when can that change?”

“After our events. We can’t get distrac—oh.” Copia had pressed forward, resting his forearms against the wall by your head. He had showered in the locker room but there was still the slight smell of sweat on him. His head dropped close enough you felt his lips brush ever so slightly against your cheek. “Copia…”

“Our events then. After we get gold, yeah?”

“Yes. At least I hope so.”

“Don’t worry Paperina,” Copia stepped back, smiling smugly as he held your gaze. “I’ll give you one of mine if you don’t.”

Thankfully the sock was gone when you got back to the room.

You quietly opened the door, peeking in but not seeing anyone inside. They must have been able to go back to Omega’s room. You took advantage of the emptiness, quickly shucking Copia’s coat and tossing it over a chair. The next part was your costume, you had to be extra careful removing it. The last thing you wanted to worry about doing was losing more damn feathers.

The shower felt heavenly and you got it as hot as you dared. The scent of Copia’s cologne that was lingering on your skin washed off quickly but you tried not to dwell on it. It was obvious you’d be seeing him again. He certainly didn’t seem like the type to give up easily, much like his brothers. You snorted thinking of his last comment. The Emeritus’s were a cocky bunch, but it was with good reason.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear all of the Emeritus brothers out of your mind. It was tough like usual to get all the hairspray washed out of your hair but once you were done you allowed yourself to just relax and lean against the wall. Looking down your body you watched the soap slowly fall over your skin and down onto the tile. Your eyes fell onto your knee like they usually did when there was nothing covering it and it made you wince like always.

It wasn’t so much that you thought it was ugly, to you it was a mark of survival. Not that it was necessarily a life threatening thing. In reality a fall while doing a jump could have gone far, far worse than it did. But landing on your knee had been excruciating. Laying out there on the ice in front of thousands of people had been excruciating. However the two years you had spent rehabbing it had been worse.

The multiple surgeries, the constant appointments for physical therapy… It felt like you had practically lived at the hospital for those two years. But you had been determined to come back from it. You were too young to let your dream go. Your eyes were drawn to your knee like always, to the scars that ran along the sides. The doctor had jokingly said that shorts and short skirts might not be in your future and it had taken so much willpower not to punch him.

Your scars were proof that you had survived the injury. That you hadn’t let it stop you from pursuing what you had been doing since you were a kid. Since you could even stand up on skates. This is what you had always wanted to do, what you had dreamed of. The Winter Olympics were the pinnacle of that dream. You were determined to get on that podium this year. You wanted to show everyone that nothing would stop you from getting there.

Copia’s face appeared in your mind then. You could imagine his smug grin as he teased you. You thought of the way he smelled, the way he covered you in his scent by loaning you his coat. You thought of his body in his uniform, how powerful his legs were. He could probably hold you up easily, maybe push one of his knees between your legs and let you straddle his thick thigh.

Your head fell back against the shower wall, a little zing of pleasure running through you at the thought. Almost absentmindedly you placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it over your skin in a few circles before letting it slip down further and into the thatch of hair between your legs. You thought of grinding against Copia’s thigh, your feet probably not even touching the ground because he was holding you up so high.

Two of your fingers rubbed tight circles over your clit as you fell deeper into your fantasy. Copia’s fingers were thick, it was obvious even with them hidden under those gloves. They were thick and they’d feel amazing stroking inside of you. You brought your other hand to your cunt and rubbed across your entrance. A moan punched out of you when you pressed two of them inside. There was barely any resistance you were already so turned on just by thinking about Copia doing this to you.

He probably loved to dirty talk, he probably loved describing all the things he planned on doing to you. Your fingers pumped faster imagining the filthy things he would whisper in your year. Things he would do to you if you only asked. You’d more than ask, you’d beg for it if you had to. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you wanted everything. His mouth, his fingers, his cock...

You wanted it all.

The next few days went by in a blur.

Both you and Terzo were focused on practicing for your upcoming events. You each had a short and long program to skate, the combined scores of both decided your final place in the standings. Despite the importance of it all Terzo did manage to skip out a lot to meet up with Omega. You had met him a few times by now as well and you had immediately liked him. He was just the kind of partner Terzo needed. Honestly he was the kind of partner you wanted.

Of course thinking about partners had your stupid mind drifting to Copia. You hadn’t seen him at all since that night, only catching glimpses of his face on the tv screens or the odd magazine laying around the lounge and cafeteria. It wasn’t like you expected to spend all your time with him, but it made that whole night feel surreal. Terzo hadn’t been super helpful about the whole thing. With romance on his brain he had started going on about all these elaborate scenarios featuring you and Copia. Olympic themed dates and Olympic themed gifts.

The Olympic themed wedding talk was the last straw and you had demanded he leave the room for a bit that night. You knew he had planned on doing that anyway, Omega’s team was practicing and watching him play had become Terzo’s favorite new thing. Well, that and fucking him probably. So with the room empty it was time for you to do something you always did before events, especially after your accident at the last Olympic Games. It just wasn’t something you enjoyed in any way, shape or form.

You hated reviewing training footage. It was frustrating going over your previous performances and pinpointing where you had made mistakes. Where you had turned a triple axel into a double. Where you’d missed the timing on a jump. Where you’d stumbled on a landing.

Where you had fallen and nearly destroyed your career.

In your coach’s defense he never made you watch that one again. Rewatching that was something you did on your own. Terzo always hated it and would call it self destructive. That was part of the reason you were alone in your room tonight. He had seen you break out your laptop and left to meet Omega earlier than planned.

You’d been surprised he wasn’t out with Copia celebrating his brother’s win but Terzo had said Copia wasn’t much for celebrating until the games were completely done. Of course when that thought crossed through your mind you immediately blushed. The memory of that night with him was something you had been replaying a lot, especially the ending and the deal you had made.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you searched for the race he was in today, quickly hitting play when it came up. Not surprisingly the announcers were talking about Copia most of the time. Even if it wasn’t his last Olympics he was still the most well known athlete there, the most decorated. You watched as he warmed up and briefly chatted with his fellow racers. He looked so at ease, like he wasn’t about to race his heart out for one of the final times in his career.

You really envied him. He had so much pressure on him but just looking at him smiling on the ice you would think it was just another day. Even though you knew the result you found yourself holding your breath as everyone waited for the race to begin. When they took off Copia easily got to the front, quickly putting distance between himself and the others. The camera stayed on him and you got to see the muscles of his legs flex and move up close. You could see the determination in his eyes, the lights in the arena reflected off both but especially the odd white one his family was all born with.

It was always strange to you when something so important, so pivotal to someone’s career was over in just a few moments. Copia crossed the finish line with ease, one arm pumping briefly into the air as he flashed a dazzling smile to the crowd. The camera panned briefly to where his brothers were seated. Terzo looked ridiculous in his big faux fur coat but it made you smile to see Omega swing an arm over his shoulders. There was more between your friend and the hockey captain than just an “Olympic Village fling”, that was obvious.

Primo looked proud like he always did, no matter how well his younger brothers did in their events. Next to Primo, looking stern but proud, was Secondo. He was dressed in one of his typical three piece suits, clapping and cheering with the crowd. The camera soon panned away and back onto the ice. Copia was standing patiently next to the second and third place winners but you kept noticing his eyes darting out into the stands. You knew he had seen his brothers, family was always seated around the same area, so you were curious who he seemed to be looking for. He almost looked disappointed after taking a final scan of the crowd before being ushered onto the podium.

The thought crossed your mind briefly that he might have been looking for you but that was ridiculous. While Terzo had invited you it had seemed a little too much to go watch Copia’s race. You hadn’t really sorted out exactly what you were feeling towards him. Obviously physical attraction but there was something else there, something that made your insides flutter when you thought about him.

Watching him at the top of the podium, handsome and beaming as the gold medal was slipped over his head didn’t help. He shook hands with the official that gave him the medal and then his fellow athletes before standing tall again. The camera panned up to the Italian flag hanging higher than the others, only going back to Copia when his national anthem started playing.

You watched as his lips moved, mouthing along to the lyrics being played. His makeup was slightly smeared from sweat but it did nothing to detract from his handsome features. When the music swelled he appeared to be full on singing, his throat bobbing as he did so. Your mind went back to when you were walking to the dorms in the snow after watching him practice. His shoulder knocking against yours, his coat warm over your stupid costume and the smell of his cologne embedding itself in your brain.

There was definitely something more there.

An abrupt knock on the door had you pausing the video, the screen freezing right as Copia was looking directly into the camera.

“Who is it?” After no one answered you focused back on the screen again but another set of knocks echoed through the room. You groaned, figuring it might be Terzo trying to get back in. The knocking continued as you unfolded your legs and hopped off your bed. “Terzo I told you to make sure you had your key!”

You unlocked and flung the door open, ready to bitch at your friend some more but the face on the other side was not your roommate.

“Paperina.” Copia’s eyes swept over you, making you immediately self conscious of the old, oversized sweats you were wearing. “No feathers today?”

“Not today, no.” You fiddled with the zipper on your hoodie while you let your eyes wander over him. He was wearing all black, a color that definitely suited him. Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on how his tight jeans clung to his thighs and when you finally glanced up he was pleased as hell about it. “Tomorrow is the short program.”

“Are you ready?”

While you desperately wanted to say no and that you were scared out of your mind you squared your shoulders and gave him the most convincing smile you could manage.

“Yes, yes I am.” You both stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other. After what seemed like an eternity you finally snapped. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Are you?” He pushed off from the door jam and looked around you into the room. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much going on.”

“I’m watching my old rout—hey!”

Copia easily walked around you, strolling into the room like he’d been there a hundred times. You glared at his back briefly before deciding to just shut the door. When you turned your eyes looked on, horrified as you watched him look down at your laptop screen, a wild grin breaking out on his face.

“You know Paperina, you could have come today.” He grunted as he dropped onto the bed, stretching out in front of your computer. “I told Terzo to bring you.”

“Like I said,” You stomped over to your bed and grabbed your laptop away from him. “I was busy. Am busy. So you should go.”

Copia sighed as he rolled into his back and tucked his hands under his head.

“I was a little disappointed you didn’t come.” His admission had you freezing next to the little desk you were setting your laptop on. “You could’ve seen the whole thing up close.”

“I told you—“

“Sí, sí. Busy. I can tell.” He was grinning when you spun around to glare at him. “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all night.”

“I’m not cooped up, I’m getting ready for tomorrow.”

“Paperina, how many times have you done this routine?” He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. “Watching old videos won’t help.”

“Yes, they do. I can see where I messed up and fix it.”

“Weren’t you there though? You know where you made the mistakes already. What does torturing yourself by watching them do?”

“It’s not torture!”

“Then what is it?” His voice was gentle as he watched you, the concern evident as he spoke. “How many times do you need to see them?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“You’re just going to be more nervous for tomorrow.”

“Look, you’re not my coach or a figure skater so don’t come in here trying to tell me how to prepare.”

“Ah yes, what do I know? I just skate in circles.” He groaned as he sat up, his eyes not leaving you. “I do know that dwelling on past mistakes won’t help you. No matter what sport you’re in.”

“Look, I need to watch them.”

“Paperina, you haven’t given me a good enough reason why.”

“Because I can’t fuck up again!” Your eyes stung with the tears building up in them but it was too late to stop now. It felt like the knot that had been building in your chest since the accident four years ago was finally unraveling. “Copia, I can’t. This is my last chance. In four years I’ll be too old to compete against anyone here.”

You weren’t sure how long you stared at each other but it was long enough for your breathing to calm and your tears to fade. As you were about to ask him to go he pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together.

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!”

“Sí, I heard all the bullshit you told me.” He looked around the room, letting out a little noise when he saw his coat hanging off your chair. “We’re going out.”

“No, Copia I can’t.”

“What did you just say? ‘This is your last chance’? That means it’s also your last chance to enjoy yourself here.”

“I am enjoying myself.�� When he raised an eyebrow you groaned and shook your head. “What would we even do anyway?”

“Celebrate.” He gave you an exaggerated pout when you just stared at him. “My gold medal isn’t a good enough reason to celebrate? Coming with me is the least you could do Paperina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saved you a spot and everything. Kept hoping I’d see you in the stands...” Copia sighed dramatically and shook his coat out before he held it up for you. “Remember what we talked about the other night?”

Hopefully the look on your face didn’t make it obvious you had been practically only thinking about that.

“We agreed on after our events.”

“It is after an event though.”

“Yes, one event, Copia! You have three more medals to compete for and I have two skate programs.”

“Just a small celebration then.” You rolled your eyes when he pouted again. “Per favore.”

“How small?”

He grinned and tossed his coat at you before looking around the room. He let out a triumphant noise when he saw your boots, grabbing them and thrusting them at you as well.

“Very small. I know just the place.”

“We can’t be gone long.” He nodded as he rocked back on his heels. “And no funny business.”

“Paperina, I will be completely serious. I won’t even smile.”

You snorted as you dropped your boots and shoved your feet into them. His coat was next and it was as comfortable as you remembered when you pulled it on.

“So. Where are we going?”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Copia hadn’t stopped smiling as soon as you’d seen where he was taking you. The building hadn’t been too far from the Olympic Village, a few blocks and you found yourself staring up at an old ice rink. You looked on in disbelief as Copia walked up to the glass doors and peered inside. The place was obviously closed but after a few knocks on the door an older man had come up to let you both in.

“You’ve got two hours Emeritus, that’s it.”

“Grazie, plenty of time.” Copia turned and held his hand out for you. “Paperina?”

Copia led you through the building, seemingly unbothered by the lack of lights. His gloved hand was warm and in the dark you let yourself look down at it, trusting him to guide you where he wanted to go. When he gave it a squeeze you looked up, noticing you were in front of the skate rental booth.

“Copia, what are we doing here?”

“What does it look like?” He let go of your hand and walked around the counter, disappearing for a moment before coming back with an armful of ice skates. “Here these should fit.”

“Ice skating is our job! Why would you want to come here on your night off?”

“Because ice skating should be fun and you need to remember that.” He came around the counter and took your hand again. “When was the last time you had fun out on the ice?”

It was startling to you when your mind drew a blank. Even the times you’d been out there practicing with Terzo all you remember feeling was stress. You resisted when he tried to tug you towards the rink.

“What if we get hurt?”

“Don’t do any triple axels and I think you’ll be fine.” When you stayed put as he tried to go to the rink again he sighed. To your surprise he dropped his skates and turned around, coming right into your space and cupping your cheeks. “Paperina, I promise that you will have fun.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, letting the heat from his hands and gloves warm your cheeks.

“I want a pretzel.”

Copia let out a bark of laughter, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

“I think the concession stand is closed.”

“That’s the price. One pretzel.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see what I can do.”

You ended up with two pretzels and that fluttering feeling in your chest getting worse.

After banging around trying to first find the pretzels the next problem was sorting out how to heat them. Copia had been attempting to get the little heater rack going when the owner had stomped over with an exasperated look on his face.

“Really, Emeritus?”

“The lady is hungry!”

The man had grabbed the two pretzels and disappeared into the back. While he worked you and Copia had made your way to the rink, throwing your coats over the wall and sitting down to get your skates on. They definitely weren’t as nice as you normally wore and you tried not to think of how clean they might be, but it was actually helping you relax a bit. You hadn’t skated in a rink like this since you were a kid first taking lessons. There was zero pressure here, just you and the ice.

Well…Copia and his thighs too.

It was unfair how good he looked in those jeans. You tried not to stare but that only ended with your eyes wandering elsewhere. He had some random band tee over a long sleeve shirt. His gloves were still on as well as the dark gray scarf he’d been wearing since he showed up at your door. He looked good, he probably looked good in everything. He probably looked really good in noth—

“Here’s your damn pretzels.”

You grabbed them when the owner thrusted them in front of your face, setting one down next to you and biting into the other. He and Copia appeared to be having a somewhat heated conversation but you chose to ignore it and focus on your food. Copia was right, you needed to enjoy your time here. And not just here at the rink but during the entire two weeks the Olympics were going on. You were so lucky to have this chance and while you didn’t want to mess it up, you also wanted to look back on it fondly no matter what happened.

“Okie dokie, two hours!”

Copia plopped down next to you, grabbing the second pretzel and taking a bite.

“Hey that’s mine!”

“These actually aren’t bad, Paperina.” You took a big bite of your own and glared at him. “Not going to help me get into my suit tomorrow but eh, oh well.”

“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.” As soon as you realized what you said you froze, sneaking a glance at him and sighing when you saw his grin. “Don’t.”

“You’ll look good too. Bellissima.” He shoved the rest of the pretzel in his mouth and then pulled the skates on. “I can’t wait to see you in those feathers again.”

“Wait, you’re coming?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You hid your pleased smile by leaning down and getting the skates on although when you sat up he was still watching you. “It’s the next event anyway, I’ll want to collect on our deal.”

“Technically the short program is part of one event, one medal. I still have the long program.”

Copia walked in front of you and held his hands out, a gesture you were getting used to. When he had pulled you up and helped steady you on the unfamiliar skates he leaned in closer, his handsome face taking up your vision.

“I think we can bend the rules a bit again, don’t you?”

Being on the ice with Copia was a blast.

While you both agreed on no racing or jumping it wasn’t long before you were squealing and shoving your way past him to get to the end of the rink first. Luckily you were both still getting used to the new skates, in Copia’s case they were a lot different than his usual ones so it gave you a good advantage. Your triumphant whoop at hitting the end of the rink before him was drowned out by you screeching when he grabbed you and dug his fingers into your sides.

“No! Copi—ahh! Stop, stop!” You were laughing despite your frantic protests. Finally pushing him away and out of reach. “You’re just jealous I’m better on the ice than you.”

“Paperina, if I had my regular skates on I’d be able to lap you twice before you hit the end.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, handsome.”

You skated away so you wouldn’t have to see his smug grin but also to hide your blush. There really wasn’t a point in hiding your attraction to him anymore, but that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy on him. You were nearly half the rink away from him when you heard him coming up behind you. The sounds of his blades sliding across the ice was loud and you weren’t surprised to see him blow by you. But instead of turning the corner to show off his speed he suddenly threw his arms out and then leapt into the air, executing a near perfect jump, spinning and landing with a flourish.

Copia stayed where he was as you skated up to him with a stunned look on your face. You were both surprised and irritated he had managed to pull it off so well. Of course you’d seen his brother do it plenty of times but that was his area of expertise. Copia wasn’t a figure skater.

“How…how did you…?”

“Do you need me to show you how the move works?” He held up his hands when you glared at him. “I grew up with Terzo, Paperina. I’d practice with him sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’ huh?” You shook your head in disbelief, beginning to skate closer to him. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Kissing.”

His answer startled you enough you tried to stop and ended up losing your balance. Copia’s hands shooting out and grabbing you around your waist were the only thing that kept you upright. You found yourself placing your hands on his shoulders as his own slid further around you and rested at the small of your back.

“Kissing?”

“Sí. I’m terrible at it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.” He nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing giving away the joke. “You should try to get some practice in.”

“Will you help me, Paperina?”

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to shout yes. But you really didn’t need to say anything, it was obviously what you both wanted right then. You leaned in at the same time as Copia, your lips touching gently against each other for only a moment before the movements became more intense. Copia kept one arm around your waist but the other he slid up to cradle the back of your head. You wrapped your own arms around his neck and pushed your fingers into his hair. When he urged your head to tilt to the side his mouth opened over yours and you let out a tiny moan when his tongue pushed inside.

As you flicked your own tongue against his you pressed yourself as close to him as possible. Kissing on ice skates was definitely not ideal and you nearly bit his tongue when he tugged you closer and you almost fell. Copia pulled away with a growl, both of his hands going down to grip your ass as he gently pushed you backwards. You couldn’t take your eyes off his already swollen lips but when your back hit the side of the rink you glanced up to meet his mismatched gaze.

He took his hands off your ass and used one to cup your face, the other pressed against the concrete wall that was on one side of the rink. It looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it, his mouth lowering once more to yours. This kiss was immediately hot and dirty, your tongues fighting each other for some unknown prize. A deep groan vibrated in his chest when you nipped and sucked on his and he pressed his body even harder against yours.

When you started to lose your footing on the ice again Copia shoved his knee between your legs, pushing it against the wall. He gripped your hips with both hands and lifted you, propping you up so his strong thigh was basically the only thing keeping you upright. The muscle pressing against you and the heat from his leg along with the friction against your core had you whimpering into his mouth. Copia pulled his mouth away from you and leaned his forehead against yours once more.

“I knew you’d be like this.” He tugged your hips back and forth to rub you against him even more deliciously and you panted into his mouth. “So responsive for me. I bet you’re already wet too.”

“What about you?” Copia groaned when you reached down and rubbed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

With a growl he kissed you again, nipping at your lips and tongue. His mustache tickled your skin and you knew you’d have to apply extra makeup tomorrow to hide the redness. Honestly you didn’t care what he did at the moment, you just wanted him to keep kissing you. You had one arm wrapped around his neck for balance but you pushed your other hand back into his hair, scratching at his scalp and enjoying the way he groaned at the contact. When Copia pulled one hand off your hip you expected to feel it delve into your own hair but instead his warm palm covered your breast and it was your turn to groan when he rubbed his thumb across your hardening nipple.

If it wasn’t for the sudden blast of music blaring across the speakers you probably would have let him fuck you right there on the ice. Copia pulled away, a violent series of Italian curses falling from his lips. Thankfully he helped keep you steady because at the moment your legs were in no shape to keep you on your feet. You chose to cling to his shirt and bury your face in his chest to try to catch your breath as you felt him jerk his head around looking for the culprit. When the music stopped you heard the voice of the owner over the intercom.

“Time’s up Emeritus! Take the lady to bed at least!”

You snorted against Copia, smiling when you heard him laugh too. He was keeping a firm grip on you, one hand rubbing up and down your back when he felt you shiver. It had little to do with the cold though. Your body was still coming down from the pleasure that had built up inside of you and when you moved you could feel Copia was still slightly hard. He hissed when you moved against him again.

“Quit that, we have an audience.”

“You started it.”

He laughed again, cupping your face so he could tilt it up and you could meet his eyes.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you. Just “Oh Copia, yes Copia. Hey!” He barely caught his balance when you pushed him away, his arms flailing wildly as you started skating towards the exit. You had just placed a hand on the wall to step out of the rink when he came up behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him so he could lean down and whisper into your ear. “You will be saying that to me eventually, Paperina. I promise you.”

He helped you step out of the rink, his hand not leaving the small of your back until you were at the bench where your things were. Copia knelt down in front of you and batted your hands away so he could untie your laces and slip the skates off your feet. You flexed them when they were free, happy to have them out of the unfamiliar skates. When Copia took your right foot in his hand you gasped. It turned into a quiet moan when he began to dig his thumbs into the sole and massage the tightness out.

“Oh! Right there.” You bit your lip to try to keep all the noises you wanted to make from escaping. Copia’s fingers were magic, not that you should be surprised. “Yes, Copia that’s perfect.”

“See? Only took a few minutes.”

When you realized what he meant you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. He switched to your other foot with a grin and gave it the same attention before finally pulling away to get his own skates off. The owner was waiting for you at the front and thankfully didn’t say anything as you slipped by. You knew your hair was probably a mess, not to mention how swollen your lips were. At least the coat Copia had on was long enough to cover his crotch. By how stiff he was walking it was obvious he was still a little hard and you smiled smugly as you walked ahead of him.

“You owe me Emeritus.”

“Sí, sí.” Copia finished talking to the owner and then jogged to catch up with you, quickly grabbing your hand when he did. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him a bit, especially with the air having gotten colder. “So, did you have fun?”

“It was ok.”

When he gasped dramatically you tucked your head into his arm for a moment to try and warm up your nose. He clicked his tongue and stopped, tugging at his scarf to release it. When he started wrapping it around your neck you suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. The act felt intimate, much more so than what had just happened in the rink. Copia leaned in to kiss your cold nose when he was done.

“I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon if you keep taking them all.” You were about to respond when you noticed a familiar looking ribbon under the color of his shirt. Copia caught you looking and smiled, grabbing it and then pulling it out so you could see. The gold medal he earned that day shone under the streetlamp and you tentatively reached out to touch it. “You don’t get this one, Paperina.”

“You’re right, I’ll be getting my own soon.”

He grinned, shoving the medal back under his shirt and then taking your hand again. The walk back to the village was quiet. The only sounds coming from the snow crunching under your shoes and the occasional conversations from people passing you by. The lounge was still busy despite the hour and Copia kept you close as crowds of athletes moved around you both. He didn’t let go of your hand when you got into the elevator or even when you got to the door of your room, giving it a quick squeeze as you shoved your key into the door.

“Is Terzo here?”

“No, he said he’d be staying with Omega tonight.”

“Ah, young love.” You smiled, looking down at your hand in his until another squeeze had you meeting his eyes. “Will you be ok by yourself, Paperina?”

“I will lock my door and not let any strangers in, I promise.”

“Tsk, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you ah, ‘reviewing the tapes’.”

You winced, feeling a little guilty because for some reason you had debated on doing that. But no, Copia was right. That wasn’t going to do you any good.

“Nope, straight to bed for me.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him in and the more you thought about it the more you wanted it to happen. But it was already late and there was no way you’d get any sleep with Copia in bed with you. He gave you a small smile before bringing his free hand to his mouth and tugging his glove off with his teeth. When he was done he brought it to his scarf and started to tug it loose from your neck. You thought he was going to pull it off at first but he just pushed it away enough so he could cup your cheek. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out and touch his skin. Copia groaned and crowded you back against the door.

“I’m trying to be good and follow your rules here but you are making it very difficult.”

“You already broke the rules by coming here in the first place.”

“Eh, more like adjusted them a bit.” He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes dropped to your own lips. “It was worth it though, sÍ?”

“Yes, thank you for doing this.”

Copia smiled and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll get to do this again tomorrow night, yeah? After your event?”

“I told you, it’s just the short program. There’s no medal tomorrow.”

“But it’s important. Right?” When you nodded he cocked his head to the side for a moment. “Fifth place or better.”

“What?”

“Your scores, if you get fifth place or better we’ll have another date.”

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Fifth place or higher would put you in a good position before your long program later in the week. Your combined scores, as long as you skated well, would put you in contention for a medal. You desperately wanted gold but you were starting to realize any medal would be amazing. A great achievement after your injury and the long recovery. You just wanted on that podium, that’s all. It was doable and after tonight with Copia you felt like you’d make it up there.

As long as you skated well.

“Fifth place or better. I can do that.”

“You will do that, Paperina.” He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“Oh, Copia no. You don’t have to do that.”

“I actually do, Primo is making me. Ai!” He grunted when your fist connected with his shoulder, laughing and grabbing your hand when you tried to do it again. His mustache tickled the back of it when he dropped a kiss there. Copia grinned as he dropped your hand, reaching out to tap the tip of your nose. “Besides, there’s something important I have to see.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He moved back a few steps and winked, the grin still fixed on his face.

“Those feathers in action.”

To say you were worried was an understatement.

You just needed to get above fifth, that’s all. Fifth or higher and you had a chance just like Copia had said, just like you had been repeating in your head all morning. Hardly anyone came back from a lower place than that after the short program. It’s not that you would give up if you got below fifth, but getting a medal at these games would be near impossible at that point. So. Fifth or better.

Terzo had managed third, a fact that he had been crowing about since it happened. The men had skated that morning and while you should have been practicing you ignored your coach’s recommendation and came to watch Terzo perform. Omega and Secondo both had games that morning so it had been just you and Primo. The eldest brother had probably been the loudest out of anyone else in the crowd as Terzo worked his ass off skating to his music.

To the surprise of no one Terzo had chosen an ABBA song.

“Paperina, you look nervous.”

At Copia’s voice you jumped, nearly losing your balance. He reached out and grabbed your hands, not letting go until you were steady again on your feet. You quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen you but thankfully everyone was busy either talking to the skater that had just performed or cleaning the rink. When you looked back at Copia he was grinning.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to come.”

“Yes but you should be in the stands, not back here.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, reaching out and fingering one of the feathers at your waist. You had another quick look around, wincing when you saw your coach glaring at you. “Quit that.”

He hissed when you slapped his hand away from your costume and shoved his hands into his pockets. A reporter sidled closer and you sighed. It would have been easy to spot Copia even if he wasn’t wearing a bright green, white and red tracksuit that didn’t say Italy all over it. You wondered what story the reporter would come up with.

“Remember, fifth or higher.”

“Yes, yes I know.”

“But first is better, yeah?” He brought a hand up to his neck and pulled his medal out from yesterday, the gold catching on all the bright lights in the arena. “You see? Gold.”

“It’s not actually gold you moron.” The reporter was definitely interested now and you noticed another one whose interest had been piqued. “Put that thing away.”

“Fine, fine. You’ll be begging to see it later though.”

“I will scratch your eyes out if you wink at me again.”

“You’re very aggressive, Paperina. Is it the nerves?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back. “What do you have to be nervous about? You’re going to do amazing.”

You stopped glaring at the reporters and met Copia’s eyes. His gaze was steady as he watched you, his thumb still rubbing your hand. He was wearing gloves like usual, these ones black leather and the material was warm against your cold skin. You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders.

“I’m not nervous.” He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

You nodded, trying to give him a confident smile and hoping you pulled it off. When you glanced back out over the ice it was empty and the announcers were gearing up for your routine. Your coach popped up in the corner of your eye and took a deep breath trying to clear your head. This was it. You hadn’t spent years preparing for this to blow it at the last moment. Before you headed over to your coach you looked back at Copia and tried to give him a confident smile.

“Wish me luck.”

“I would say ‘break a leg’ but that would be very bad, don’t do that.” He just laughed when you glared at him. Copia took a quick look around before stepping forward so no one else would hear him. “I want to celebrate with you later, Paperina. Don’t mess it up.”

You sighed when you heard a few cameras click, knowing they caught the intimate moment. Copia didn’t seem to care, turning to give the photographers a smile before looking back at you. The announcers called your name and your coach came up to urge you toward the rink. With one last look at Copia you moved away and took a deep steadying breath.

Messing up wasn’t an option, you wanted to celebrate with him too.

You ended up third.

When the music had ended and you stood out there in your final position you had been so overcome with emotion. So much hard work, so many long hours and now it was finally over with. Well, at least the short program was. You’d be back out there for the long skate in a few days. That was something to worry about later though, preferably tomorrow. Tonight you planned on celebrating and pushing all your other worries out of your mind.

You also planned on burning this damn costume too.

As flowers and stuffed animals rained down on the ice you eagerly skated off and were quickly whisked away by your coach. Then came the usual song and dance of watching the judges post your scores, more screaming and crying and finally giving a few interviews to the various reporters milling about. By the time you were done with it all the last skater had competed and you had gotten the confirmation about your third place finish. The sense of relief you felt followed you all the way to the locker room where you quickly threw your track suit over your costume, grabbed your things and headed out.

Right as you were messing with your phone to try and see where Terzo had gone off to a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you were lifted off the ground.

“Amica mia! You did it!” You let Terzo swing you around a bit before spinning in his arms and hugging him back. “I told you!”

Your emotions were getting the best of you so you just clung to your friend a little tighter for a moment, feeling so thankful for him. You didn’t let go until a throat cleared nearby and when you looked to who had made the noise you were met with Copia’s pleased smile.

“Well done Paperina.” You smiled back, fighting the urge to run into his arms. Your adrenaline was still high from performing and it felt like electricity was sparking along your skin. With Copia’s eyes on you the feeling was even stronger. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you Copia.” When he pulled an arm from behind his back you felt your cheeks pink at the rose he held in his hand. You pulled away from Terzo and shyly walked over to take it from Copia’s fingers, your own twitching a bit when they made contact with his warm gloves. “Did you buy this or pick it up off the rink?”

“I stole it from that idiot that got first.” He grinned when you rolled your eyes. “Should’ve been you, Paperina.”

“What did you call her?” Copia shot his brother a glare and you turned around to look at Terzo. “Paperina?”

“Zitto, Terzo!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” You looked from brother to brother, Terzo looked on the verge of laughter while Copia just continued to glare at him. “It’s just because of my costume, Terzo. Swan Lake.”

“SÍ, but Paperina doesn’t me–hey, what the fuck?!” Terzo snarled at Copia after being hit in the head with the stuffed bear. “She’ll find out eventually!”

“Find out what?” When neither brother said anything you growled and walked over to your things. “Whatever, I’m going back to my room.”

“No, wait!” You stopped when Terzo called out, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a sheepish look. “I was actually hoping to have the room to myself tonight.”

“Oh come on! Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

Both you and Terzo turned to stare at Copia when he cleared his throat.

“You can stay with me, Paperina.” There was that fluttering again, your heart feeling like it was skipping a beat or two. He wandered over to where the bear had landed and then came to exchange it for your gear bag. “Didn’t I say we’d be celebrating?”

Copia’s mouth was latched onto your neck before the door to his room was closed.

“No, no–ah! No marks. Not where people can see them.”

He pulled away with a growl, capturing your mouth again instead. As his tongue roughly toyed with yours he brought a hand to your thigh and lifted your leg up to wrap around his waist. It gave him enough room to start grinding against you, his sweatpants doing little to hide his hard cock. You whimpered when it pressed between your legs, the thin material of your tights doing little to block yourself from him.

“I could probably sink into you right now, couldn’t I?” You nodded weakly, thunking your head back against the door when he ground even harder against you. “I could rip these tights open and have you screaming my name.”

“Yes! Copia please.”

You could see him smirking through your half lidded eyes, the intense pleasure of him rubbing against your cunt making it hard to keep them open. His hands started fiddling with your skirt, the feathers rustling as he pushed it higher up your stomach.

“Will you be wearing this again?”

“What?” You blinked at his question, not sure what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

“I’m about to rip it off of you, is that ok Paperina?” He was barely done with his question before you were vigorously nodding your head. With a growl he had his hands at the top of your tights and the room filled with the sound of ripping fabric. You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed flesh, moaning when he dragged a bare finger through your cunt. “Cazzo, so wet for me already.”

He added a second finger, rubbing them up and down between your lips. The slick sounds of them moving seemed so loud you were worried that anyone walking down the hallway would hear it. When they teased at your entrance you let out a loud gasp, a loud bang echoing around you when your head fell back against the door again.

People would definitely have heard that.

“You are so responsive, so beautiful.” The tips of his fingers pushed into you slightly before pulling out. He repeated the motion over and over again, going deeper each time. “I can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.”

“Then do it. I want it.”

Copia growled and slammed his mouth against yours right as he pushed his fingers in as far as they’d go. You moaned into his mouth, thankful that it muffled you at least a little bit. His fingers worked in and out of you hard and fast as he kissed you heatedly. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, pushing up on your toes a bit so the angle of his thrusting fingers was a little better. He started rubbing them harder against your inner walls, catching at the spot inside of you that had you pulling away from his mouth and nearly wailing in pleasure.

“Just this tonight, we still have a few events left after all.” He kissed you again, this time the kiss a little softer but no less passionate. As his fingers on one hand continued to fuck you he brought his other hand close and started rubbing his thumb against your clit. “It will be worth the wait.”

“It bet–oh, oh it better be.”

“Trust me, Paperina. I’ll make sure it is.”

You couldn’t do anything else but nod, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable as you reached your peak. He knew exactly how to work you, exactly when to apply more pressure and where. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as your climax hit, your mouth open in a mostly silent cry against his shoulder. It took a few moments for you to come back to yourself and when you did it was to Copia making quiet moaning sounds.

When you blinked your eyes open you looked down to see his hand flying over his cock. The sight of it had more little thrills of pleasure rippling through you. He whispered your name and you looked back up at his face, meeting his odd eyes. You slipped a hand off his shoulder and moved it down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the head as he continued to pump his shaft. His moans became louder as you both worked him over until his cock twitched between you, his hot cum shooting out the tip.

Copia cursed quietly in Italian as you stroked him through it, making sure every last drop left him. It had dripped onto his pants and you noticed streaks across the feathers of your costume. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the sight, instead moving to press a deep kiss into Copia’s lips. He hummed happily into your mouth as you tangled your tongue with his briefly before pulling away, his lips curled up in a familiar smug smile. You glanced down at yourself and his eyes followed, looking over the ripped tights and the cum stained feathers. When he let out a wistful sigh you put a finger on his chin to tip his head back up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Paperina.” He shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m just going to miss this costume.”

Part Two Coming Soon! (leave me a comment if you'd like to be tagged 💙)

I wrote a little ficlet describing Terzo and Omega's meeting as well: Shooting His Shot

A/N: Did I write this because I became obsessed with the thought of Copia's thick thighs in a tight speed skating outfit? Yes, obviously. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to see more from this little universe💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader

543 notes · View notes

littlemissemeritus · 1 month ago

Text

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡,, // 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

we've all heard the drunk copia headcanon, right? well, as a writer, i feel it my obligation to make it a reality >:3

warnings; dry humping, copia being a sexy little freak, jerking off, praise, voyuerism, badly google translated italian

author's note; hello ghumblr!! lowkey kinda terrified to post this but, here it goes!! please drop any constructive criticism in the comments n like & reblog if u enjoyed <3

divider by @gothdaddyissues !!

It had been a long time since you'd attended a party within the Ministry's walls but you could safely say you were enjoying it. Even though it was a silly costume party to mark the end of the October season, everybody had dressed to the nines in an effort to wave off the spooky month.

Terzo was dressed in his obnoxious pink and white suit, a pair of dark sunglasses tucked in the neck of his polo shirt as he whispered something in the Sister's ear beside him. The young girl began to giggle and blush, kissing at his neck affectionately. You knew Sins of the Flesh were encouraged in this building, but the bold display had you hot under the collar.

Well, if you had a collar. You were currently wearing a short and tight rendition of a standard devil costume, a tail pinned to the base of your spine and false teeth pressed to your pearly whites. It was your friends' idea, not your own, the group of you dressed like you had walked straight out of a cathouse.

Everything was running smoothly as expected, the music pumping and drinks being poured out haphazardly, the floor beside the punch bowl was almost sticky with alcohol. But, you had noticed one difference; the absence of The Cardinal. You had to refrain from calling him your Cardinal, having never spoken more than 3 words to the gorgeous man. You knew he was shy, adverse to parties and honestly shocked that Terzo had managed to convinced him to come but his sudden disappearance worried you.

Leaning against the marble wall beside an ornate window, twirling your tail fabric in your hand your eyes scanned the party just in case you missed him tucked away in the corner. Giving up with a sigh, you lifted your red cup to your lips, letting the bitter taste of the beer slip down your throat. You don't recall the last time you'd drank so much, but you were passed the point of caring, the warm buzz of tipsiness washing over your thoughts.

You had no idea where this sudden bout of fizzling confidence had come from but it made a grin curl on your lips and a tingle go down your spine. Swirling your drink around in the plastic cup for a moment as you stared at the amber liquid in contemplation, you began to make you mind up. Tipping your head back to down the last of the liquor in the cup, you placed it on the windowsill behind you and began to weave your way through the party-goers.

Finally reaching the door to enter the large marble hallway, you slipped through without anybody noticing you, breathing in the crisp air of the autumn night. The muffled noise of the loud music coming from the hall began to get quieter and quieter as you traversed slowly down the corridor, taking the winding staircase up to the dorms on the floor above this one.

It was disconcerting to yourself that you knew which one Copia's door was. You'd never been inside, none of the Siblings had, but you'd spent enough time imagining. Oh, that made you sound terribly sad. Shaking your head free of the thought, stumbling a little, you trailed your hand across the quartz wall before your palm came into contact with the metal doorhandle of a room. His room.

Swallowing thickly, your shoes padded at the ground for a moment before your knuckles came into contact with the wood of the door, the sound echoing around the empty hallway. And then you waited. And then... nothing. There was no noise sans for a small creak, which you could only assume was the floorboards. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you exhaled a shaky sigh, trying again, slightly louder this time.

There was no response for a second time. You had two options in this situation; leave and return to the party or... you could go in. It felt like a terrible invasion of privacy, but it might be the only night of your life that you had enough confidence to talk to him. It felt like eternity before you curled your fingers round the cold handle, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you pushed it down. And over the threshold you stepped...

The room smelt, as you thought it would, comfortingly of insence and sandlewood. It made you lightheaded as you peered past the doorway, observing an ornate desk, a couple of reproduction paintings of gothic classics and a huge book collection. You refrained from rushing over immediately to pounce on the shelf. Ripping yourself from the daydream you'd entered his room in, you began to focus on where you were. And, more importantly, what you could hear...

It was a quiet, imperceivable noise at first; the heavy breath of a winded man and the whine of a needy one. The room was warm, the flames of hell licking at your skin as you blinked at the sounds entering your warm ears. It was the TV, right? What else could it be? A couple moments of shy wavering later, your began to move further around the wall that blocked his bedroom from view, head peaking round the corner. And the sight was one you couldn't rip your eyes off, even if you tried.

The Cardinal, your Cardinal, straddling a cushion, his thighs bracketing the object so beautifully as his hips rocked into it at a feverish pace. His hair that was always so neatly gelled back was now sweaty and hanging over his forehead, eyes lidded and glassy as he fucked himself into the pillow like a man starved. Oh, Sathanas, what had you walked in to? Your face burned with the shame of spying on him like this, but you were transfixed.

Those leather gloves of his were gripping the sheets so tightly, you could only imagine his knuckles had turned white. He was rattling off a stream of garbled whines and pleas, indistinguishable from Italian or English, but there was one thing you could understand; the soft, desperate and almost beg of your name that fell from his lips. It sounded more like a prayer than anything - a hopeful wish and a yearning need that was fueling this sudden lustful display.

You were in too deep now to just turn on your heel and leave. Being less than 2 feet from his bed was an awfully precarious situation to be in and you'd never been more nervous in your whole life. But, the warm buzz of alcohol was suddenly propelling you forward as if your body was moving of its own accord, "...Cardinal?"

A beat passed between you both as his movements slowed slightly, looking behind him to see your illuminated figure standing shyly in the doorway. His face flushed positively puce as he moved a shaking hand to cover his mouth, moving to rise shakily on his haunches, "Fratello, mi dispiace tanto, è del tutto inappropriato- I-"

A shy smile curved at your lips as you shook your head quickly, putting a hand out to quieten him, "No, no- It's my fault, I came in without knocking, um-"

The air was hot with tension and embarrassment as poor Copia pinched the bridge of his nose, a thousand thoughts running through his scrambled brain as another question pierced the awkward atmosphere, "Did you, uh... Did you say my name, Cardinal?"

He blinked owlishly at you and then cleared his throat, beginning to stutter out an answer before the weight of you pressed down on the bed beside him. As he sucked in a breath, looking down at you it sent a hot thrill up your spine and you felt your cheeks warm a little under his gaze. "I- I'm sorry, fratello, I-" He stammered a little as he studied your expression for the hint of... anything, really. Yet, there was no malice, no disgust, no hatred. Simply an undeniable hunger in your eyes as they travelled wordlessly over his embarrassed form. They landed on his crotch momentarily, where he was badly hiding an aching erection, before they flicked up to his face. "Would you like some help?" You asked, the buzz of liquor in your brain giving you that little burst of confidence you so desperately needed. Copia did the opposite of paling, blinking down at you as if you'd suggested biting his dick off instead of helping with his... unfortunate predicament. He made a soft noise of surprise (or desperation, you couldn't quite tell) and nodded wordlessly. Deliciously slowly, he moved to sit properly as he spread his legs like some kind of risque cover girl, his hands splayed out behind him.

The sight sent a fizzle of excitement through your warm body as one hand came to fiddle with the fly of his incredibly tight pants that barely left anything to the imagination. And by Satan had you tried. Tugging it down in one swift motion, you heard him gasp quietly above you before biting his lip. That illicited a smirk from you as you ran your fingers over the prominent bulge in his briefs.

"Cazzo..." He muttered quietly and looked down at your cheeky expression with a shaky smirk. He then watched as you began to carefully pull down his pants, as best you could from the dim light and almost air-tight seal they had round his thighs. With a couple of tugs, they were finally low enough so that you could pull his boxers down too, your breath stuttering as his cock bobbed free.

Your breath stilled in your throat at the sight of him, the reddened tip oozing a perfect pearl of precum. You'd imagined this situation so many times that it was almost like a memory instead of a desperate dream. He was gorgeous. Sin incarnate and infectious like a deadly poison.

One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the back of it sprinkled generously with dark hair. You narrowly avoided the urge to bite into it. Wordlessly, your hand wrapped around the base of him as he inhaled sharply, his thumb beginning to rub circles into your skin. Giving him a light squeeze, you began to run your hand up and down his shaft, coming back up to the top to collect the oozing precum before coating himself in it to make the action more fluid.

The noises that came out of him were something you'd heard in your dreams more than once and downright pornographic. His eyes went from lidded and glassy to squeezed tightly shut as quiet mewls filled the air between you both. The wet click of your hand against his dick echoed in your ears, bringing a flush to your already red cheeks. "Così buono per me- mngh- so perfect for your Cardinale, huh?" He practically choked out as his hand came up to grasp at your hair, illiciting a soft yet surprised noise leave your throat. The possessive pronoun had knocked your for six. You bowed your head as your hand moved at an almost torturous pace, milking the sounds from poor Copia's mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

His fingers flexed tentatively against your scalp as the heat in his lower abdomen had began to tighten in a familiar burn, like a rubber band being pulled too tight. Letting a grunt escape your lips as a burning cramp started in your upper arm, you took one look at his expression and deduced (with help from the way his cock twitched in your palm) you needn't wait much longer.

"Cazzo, fuck, amore mio," He hissed out as his jaw went a little slack, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked down at your concentrated expression beseechingly, huffing out a needy breath, "I need to- I'm going to cum- per favore, please say I can."

Oh, who could resist that?

You swallowed thickly, nodding your head blindly at his plea as you gently thumbed the head of his dick. You gave a few more mindless strokes before he kicked in your hand, and with a low cry he spilled into your palm, his fingers digging into your cheek. You couldn't help the low noise of enjoyment that escaped you at the sight of him so utterly ruined.

Finally removing your hand from the sinful mess you'd both made, letting a warm pant escape your lips, you lifted your head to look up at Copia who was already watching you. Wetting his lips nervously, he then sunk his crooked teeth into the flesh as he waited for you to do something. Anything.

With a calculating move, you edged forward, toward him, on the bed- sitting so your knees were almost touching his. He was startled at the new proximity between you both but openly welcomed it, opening his mouth a few times but ultimately nothing becoming of it. As your breath mingled with his in the sweaty air, a final, sultry invation left his lips as the words finally seemed to come back to him,

"We're only getting started, amore. I want you to clean up this mess you made."

100 notes · View notes

leezlelatch · 1 year ago

Text

Lust in Your Eyes

18+ MDNI

The Cardinal waits for you in your room...but sometimes, he's impatient.

Directly inspired by my beloved @writingjourney's fic.

Filthy self indulgent smut, PLEASE see tags.

Copia x F! Reader - pervy Copia, scent kink, smelling of personal items, masturbation, desperation, breeding kink, explicit conversations, explicit thoughts, self-degradation, self-encouragement, possessive, going through personal items, using articles of clothing for masturbation, caught in the act, p in v, cunnilingus, praise, domination, loud Copia, loud reader, no clean up, teasing, fluff, endearments, exchange of I love you, talk of aftercare.

“Amore?” Copia questions, popping the door open and peeking around the wood. His eyebrows are raised, lips parted slightly, black smudged along the bottom from a day of pressing his lips together in concentration. His eyes briefly roam across the small expanse of your room in the residency hall of the Ministry, huffing a laugh when he spots the stuffed rat he bought you lovingly placed on a pillow in your bed.

He pushes the rest of the door open enough to squeeze his body through, nearly hopping inside before shutting it with his bottom. He pockets the spare key and pulls out his phone, turning it over right side up. “Eugggh…ah! Here we go,” he grumbles, flipping it open. The screen lights up and he raises a hand. “Eureka!”

He holds it away from himself and presses with a heavy gloved finger to open his messages, looking at the last text you sent him.

Hi, sweetie. :) meet me at my room when you’re done?

Copia smiles, the endearment, as always, warming his cheeks. You must be running a little late. He pockets his phone and rubs his hands together with a sigh as he glances around your room once more. He walks over to the small fish tank on your desk, bending over to peer inside at the betta fish relaxing amongst the greenery growing within the tank.

“Hi! Hello, Big Betta. Where is your mama, huh?” Copia shrugs when the beta doesn’t respond and stands upright again, taking off his biretta and placing it on the desktop. He leaves through your record collection, making small noises of appreciation, just wasting time until he has you in his arms again.

Abandoning the shelf of records, he sits down on your bed, running his hand across the comforter. With a sigh, Copia falls back, closing his eyes as your scent envelopes him. He turns on his side and follows the pattern of the bedspread with a single finger, a crooked smile on his lips as he thinks about the very naughty things the two of you have gotten up to in this very bed.

He turns his nose into the soft material, taking a deep breath, his mouth falling open slightly. He turns onto his stomach, drawing his legs up as he skims the tip of his nose across the length of the bed, crawling forward until he reaches your pillow.

“Amore mio,” he rasps, pants growing uncomfortably tight as he presses his face into your pillow. He rotates his hips, pushing the seam of his zipper into his hardening cock, a pathetic noise bubbling from his throat.

Copia freezes then, the silence following his moan terrible as he realizes what he’s doing. The Cardinal heaves a frustrated sigh and drops his head into your pillow. The man is so desperate for you. He won’t deny that. Desperate for your love. Desperate for your body. Desperate for any crumb of your attention he can get. He spent the day half-hard after reading your text, eyes following the clock religiously, counting down the hours.

The Cardinal is not ashamed of his lust, but…perhaps he shouldn’t be humping your bed when you’re not here. A slow smile lifts the corners of his mouth.

Or at least, not here to see it. It wouldn’t do to waste his seed on anything that isn’t the temple with which he worships. Your beautiful body. Your tight pussy. Your womb which he aches to fill.

Copia rolls onto his back and lets out a breath, staring at the ceiling. He grimaces, reaching down to adjust the insistent throb, fighting with his cassock. “Cazzo…,” he growls, sitting up and quickly unbuttoning the suffocating material, ripping it from his body. He nearly falls off the bed in the process, grabbing the bedside table for support. Your lamp sways violently and the few things you have on the surface shake and nearly fall off, but finally Copia throws the offending cassock to the floor.

He turns toward the mirror nailed to the small piece of wall next to your closet and smooths his hair back. He stares at himself, running a hand across his soft stomach as he turns to the side, admiring the way his cock tents his pants. Copia chuckles softly and palms himself, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You’re a dirty old fucker, eh?” He sighs. “Satana, I need her so much.”

Copia checks the clock on your desk, eager for the time to pass. Missing you. Craving you. His entire body alight with the need to have you. Keep you tucked in his arms and in bed. Warm and soft and satisfied. He’d cook for you, care for you, ensure that his precious girl never wants for anything. You’re already his wife in his mind, Copia need only buy the ring.

He turns, idly debating on returning to the warmth of your bed when his eyes fall on the door to your closet. It’s ajar, the cut of the light from your room illuminating a few items of clothing which hang from the rack. Copia slips his fingers through the opening, teasing the door open the rest of the way. A shuddering breath pushes from his throat as the dress you wore to dinner last week reveals itself in all its sinful satin, hanging prettily as if it was waiting for him.

Copia hastily pulls his glove off his hand with his teeth, tossing the leather carelessly over his shoulder. With a nearly shaking hand, he reaches out, pressing searching fingers against the dress, his senses burning with the memory of how it felt to rip it from your body. He’s surprised it survived, looking nearly picture perfect. Its only failure is that you’re not wearing it.

Copia’s cock jumps, straining against his trousers. He whimpers, a small “mmm!” when he reaches down to unzip, his fingers brushing against the wet patch in his underwear. Copia pulls the dress from the closet with a frenzy, holding the hanger in one hand while the other frantically pulls down his underwear, letting his painful cock bob in the air, freezing against his heated skin. He lightly smacks it, watching with a groan as it bounces, the tip red with just the sweetest drop of precum pearled within the slit.

He stands there almost unsure for a moment, eyes falling to your door and then your doorknob. Oh, if it turned right now. If you caught him. The thought makes him shake with need, and he toes off his shoes, kicking his pants and underwear off to the side. He leaves his socks, doesn’t bother to unbutton his clerical shirt, his only remaining thought being to fuck his cock into your dress.

Copia drops to the floor, the floorboards rough on his knees. He groans, and then laughs, the sudden protest of his knees rocking him back to lucidity for a moment. Cardinal Copia, a devotee of lust. Horny and desperate and ready to pleasure himself with the memory of you, the scent of you, until he has you under him again.

Where are you?

Copia yanks the dress from the hanger, bunching it up in his hands and passing the cool satin across his thighs.

“Oh…amore, la mia preziosa ragazza! Ti amo, ti amo cosi tanto,” he whispers fervently, eyes shut tight as he imagines you before him, wearing the dress he so violently clings to.

He finally moves the dress higher, moaning low and deep, drawn out into a high pitched keen as he finally gives his cock the attention it so craves.

“Copia?” Your voice cuts through his lustful haze, and Copia’s eyes snap open, falling on your surprised expression at the door. He stands up so quickly, he falls backwards onto your bed. The dress covers his weeping cock, the Cardinal looking a mess while splayed across your bed, cheeks red.

It’s quiet for several moments.

“Did I keep you waiting too long?” You ask softly, dropping your bag and moving toward the bed.

Copia pulls the dress off of him, cock so hard it curves toward his stomach. “Look at what you’ve done, topolino. Your Cardinal hurts.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have hurried.” You pick up the dress, looking at it with a pout. “Were you going to cum on my dress?”

“Of course not,” he admonishes. He sits up and curls a finger, smiling as you dutifully flock to his side. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips, the scratch of his mustache a comfort to you. “Nothing wrong with a little…foreplay, sì? I missed you so much.”

“I missed you,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips meet, Copia hands insistent as he pulls you down to straddle his hips on the edge of the bed. Licking into your mouth, the man flips you, your back hitting the mattress. He ruts into your clothed sex, your surprised squeak swallowed by his mouth. He pulls away to nearly tear your leggings and panties off your body, flinging them into the open door of the closet so hard they rattle the hangers inside.

Copia slides his hands up your inner thighs, spreading your legs to stare unabashedly at your pussy. “Surely I’ve been given favor by the Dark Lord…,” he murmurs, leaning in to drag two fingers through your folds, spreading your lips. “I’ve been waiting all day to taste you.”

His gaze flashes to yours, his lips pulling into a smirk as he gets comfortable on the bed, hooking his arms around your spread thighs. “Watch your Cardinal worship,” he whispers.

He moans, loud and unashamed when your pussy flutters at his words, your slick rapidly sweetening his evening meal. “Don’t worry, dolce. I’ll fill that pretty hole soon enough.”

Copia’s lips close over your clit and he sucks. His tongue flicks, curling around the sensitive nub. You buck your hips with a cry and he moves a hand to your belly to drop them back to the bed, pressing firmly. He keeps you there, attached to his mouth, laving his tongue over and between your folds, dipping into your entrance. His cock gives a powerful kick against the mattress as your walls pull in his tongue.

“Your Cardinal knows,” he coos. Your answering whimper makes him smile. “Sì, sì, he knows.”

“Copia, please,” you beg, rocking your hips into his face, trying to get that perfect nose to hit just right.

This makes him laugh, “My eager topolino. I’m eager, too.”

He kisses up your body, bunching your shirt in a hand as he drags it along. He fumbles for a moment, fighting with your bra, a few choice curses flying into the air before the bra also thwacks against the wall.

“Oh, dolce,” Copia tsks, gently kissing the red marks left behind from your bra. “We will take a break from wearing that, yes? Find you something more comfortable. I can’t have you in pain…they must be so sore.”

He lavishes attention across your breasts, alternating between sucking your pebbled nipples and gently soothing his tongue across the sore marks. The only marks on your gorgeous breasts should be from his mouth. Copia blows against the wet line of his saliva, a grateful sigh making your chest rise and fall from the cool sensation.

“That’s my baby,” he murmurs.

Copia glances down to where his cock rests between your legs, lifting his hips to drag it along your slick, a full body shudder wracking his frame as he moans. He reaches down to wrap long fingers around the length of him, pumping into his fist once, twice, a third time that has his toes curling in his socks.

His eyes meet yours and he leans in for a gentle, lingering kiss. “Are you ready?” He asks, gaze adoring.

“I need you,” you respond, tilting your hips up.

Copia places his tip at your entrance, adjusting to bracket you between his arms, your breaths mingling from how close your faces are now. “Be my brava ragazza and take your Cardinal’s cock, hmm? Can you do that for me?” He whispers, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of him as he pushes into you, his cock filling you in a rush of perfection that has you crying his name already.

His thrusts are messy. Stuttering. Copia struggles to find a rhythm, so overwhelmed by the feeling of you. His love. His soulmate. To be inside you is to know the euphoria of damnation. His hands slide under your body and he pulls you impossibly closer as he slides his legs under for leverage, pistoning into you.

Copia’s own cries rival yours, filling the small space of your bedroom, the slap of your skin against his as delicious accompaniment. He collapses on top of you, still pushing, humping, grinding into your soaked cunt, his lips dragging along your shoulder, making a path to your lips.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, breathless. He claims your mouth, curling his tongue around yours while his hand reaches between your bodies to circle your clit. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressed against his chest as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth caught open in a shout of ecstasy. Your hips cant against his, your hole spasming around his cock, milking him dry as he jerks, thighs trembling with his own orgasm. He screams into your skin, head buried in your neck, his hips making quick, tight circles as he rides out his climax.

Copia rolls off, a heavy weight, arms hooked around you to make you follow so you’re both on your sides, legs intertwined. He places exhausted little kisses all over your face.

“My heart. My love. My soul. My sweetheart. My future. My everything. Ti amo. Ti amo. I love you,” each of his soft words punctuated with a kiss.

He tilts your face up with a gentle hand to your jaw, searching your eyes. You have to smile, the black make up encircling his eyes smeared all down his cheeks. “Are you okay, baby? Everything feels okay?” He asks, his voice sleepy and sweet.

“Everything is perfect,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose that makes him giggle.

“Eh…I’m going to feel that in the morning,” he chuckles, tucking you against his chest.

“I should leave you waiting more often.”

Copia playfully growls, ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Next time, I’ll get into your underwear drawer.”

“No!” You giggle, pushing against him. “I already lost three pairs to you.”

“Yes,” he says, nodding with a little smirk. “I confiscate. Too many things between my mouth and your pussy.”

“Copia!” You gasp, your cheeks flaming as you fight a grin. “You’re awful.”

“Ah, you love it,” he shrugs. His expression turns serious then, pleading as he looks at you, wrapped in his embrace where you belong. “You love me?”

“Very much,” you murmur, pressing a hand to his cheek. “I love you so very much.”

Copia turns his face into your hand, placing a kiss in the center of your palm. “We go to my room now, eh? A hot bath will do us both good.”

“You’re gonna make me walk?” You groan softly, rolling onto your back as Copia makes to get up with a sore grunt.

“You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

You sit up, your muscles feeling thoroughly used, and make to grab a towel from your dresser. You can feel his cum smearing along your thighs.

“No, amore,” Copia says, his back to you as he begins to dress. “That’s what the bath is for.”

“But I still have to walk down to your room,” you say, turning to look at him, the towel clutched in your hand.

“Yes, you do.” Copia pauses to return your gaze, expectant.

You drop the towel, blushing softly, “Yes, Cardinal.”

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #mdni #ghost #ghost bc #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #poorly translated italian

651 notes · View notes

ghuleh-witch · 2 months ago

Text

Fandom: Ghost Rating: General Warnings: none Relationships: Copia x female!Reader Additional Tags: established relationship, comfort, fluff, no beta WordCount: 775 Summary: Copia takes care of you while you're sick. Notes: Copia can be read as Cardinal, Papa, or Frater.

Ao3 || Masterlist

Copia knew exactly how you liked your tea: One tea bag (black tea, preferably Irish Breakfast tea), two spoonfuls of sugar (it has to be a little spoon and not a big spoon), and just a tiny splash of whole milk. He knows it by heart and has watched you make your cup of tea every morning since you moved in with him a year ago, but he was nervous as he stood in front of the stove waiting for the kettle of water to whistle. You were sick in bed with a nasty cold and had asked him to make a cup of tea.

“It’ll help my throat,” you croaked as you made sure to cocoon yourself in a pile of blankets.

He, ever the caretaker, hurried to fulfill your request. Copia repeated the steps over and over. He had your favorite mug prepped with the tea bag, the jar of sugar, a little spoon, and the carton of whole milk that was specifically for your tea. As he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, he heard you let out a harsh cough from the bedroom. Seeing you so ill made his heart clench. If he could snap his fingers, he’d take your place because he just wanted to see you happy and healthy. He knew the tea would cheer you up though. That’s why he needed to get it just right for you.

The shrill whistle pierced the air, and he turned the stove burner off and poured the boiling water into the black mug that read: Resting Witch Face . Copia let the tea steep, debating whether to ask you if you’d rather have honey than sugar if it was for your throat, but he knew that if you wanted honey, you would have said so. He stuck to your recipe, trusting that you knew what you wanted. He put the two spoonfuls of sugar into the tea, stirred it, and then added the splash of milk. He frowned as the tea turned a lighter color than you usually drank. “Too much milk,” he muttered as he removed the tea bag.

A minute later, he was returning to the bedroom with the mug in hand, as well as a bottle of cold medicine. “I have your tea, amore ,” he said, setting both the mug and medicine down on your nightstand. “Added too much milk, I think. Mi dispiace .”

“It’s okay,” you groaned as you sat up and reached for the mug. “It will still be delicious either way.” You held the mug in between your hands, allowing the steam to clear your sinuses, even just temporarily. You took a tentative sip of the hot beverage as Copia measured out some of the syrupy medicine. “Do I have to?” You whined, scrunching your face at the artificial cherry-flavored medicine.

“ Si, amore ,” he said, sounding apologetic. “I know you hate this shit, but it will help with your cough and help you get some sleep. You need the rest if you want to get better.”

You put the mug of tea down and reached for the metal water bottle filled with cold water that sat next to your box of tissues. “Let’s get this over with,” you sighed as you took the little cup of medicine. You pinched your nose and knocked it back before quickly chasing it with water. You could still taste the bitterness of the syrup and the sickening cherry flavor. The medicine made you gag a little, but you got it down. “There. All gone,” you said once you swallowed it all down.

“Good girl,” he said, cupping your cheek and giving it a little pat before moving his hand to your forehead. “No fever at least. That’s good.”

“Still feel like a truck ran me over,” you said as you snuggled back against your pillows. You reached for your tea again and took another sip. “How long is your meeting?”

“I shouldn’t be more than an hour, and then I’ll be right back here with you. I’ll make some soup for dinner and we can have cuddles while we watch a movie.”

“Hmmm can’t wait. But you better get going or else you’re going to be late for your meeting,” you replied. You went to go set your tea down but Copia took it from your hand and took a sip out of it. “Hey, you’re gonna get sick too now.”

“Then we can be sick together. It’ll be worth it if I can spend the whole day in bed with you,” he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leaving you to rest.

64 notes · View notes

ace-of-gay · 1 year ago

Text

I currently dont have a masterlist set up for this collection but i hope you enjoy this none the less, this will eventually be posted on ao3 but i dont have an account currently

Not betad or edited

Warnings: age regression, self neglect (not eating, not sleeping, etc.) slight panicked reader but not nearly enough to be a full warning, reader is a half ghoul half human cause this is my interpretation of a fantasy universe <3, cuddles!!!

age regression is a coping that can both voluntary and/or involuntary it is entirely safe and reccomended by therapists if they believe it would be effective for said person but as mentioned for some people it is entirely unpredictable, if this makes you uncomfortable please carry on thank you <3

This was originally written for my best friend so keep in mind this is our dream and thoughts and may not fit well into the ghost universe

Word count: 2,025 words

Nameless ghouls and papa copia taking care of half ghoul reader

Having spent a restless night wasnt uncommon for your or any of the ghouls, especially when seasons and elements were changing, you spent a good few weeks of the tour in your element but the farther and farther you traveled to bring enlightenment to others around the world the more the weather seemed to shift, this most recent nights travel not only took you to a new scene and new spirit of buzzing thrill but a stiffened weight of being completely out of your element, while yes it effects all ghouls it affected you far different.

Being part ghoul meant you weren't as aware of your instincts so feeling them shift always left you in a silent suffocating shock.

With so much bustle amongst the ghouls, papa having a chipper edge to his seemingly endless worries it kept the team heightened and moving, preparing and running through the setlist, this will be the biggest show yet in a city youre entirely new to.

You hid the encroaching feeling well, never once had any of the ghouls questions any difference to your demeanor; having one responsibility after another kept you busy all day nevery staying in one area for long, earbuds in and mask upon your dome, it was same as others methods of preparing just more secluded and in your zone, if there were any changes in anything at all papa, the ghouls and ghoulettes knew that they could calmly inturupt you in your flow.

Listening to every part of the setlist through the literal audio versions of it, everything on the outside seemed normal to everyone but the electric vibrations in your joints and dull ache in your head told you plenty, to the others you were staying silent to save your voice for later so to speak but to you the weight of speaking was way heavier than your desire to ask for help or for rest.

With the show quickly approaching and you having forgotten to eat you downed not one but two energy drinks, spiking youre adrenaline temporarily in hopes itd get you through the show.

All you had to do was get through the night off of artificial energy and true passion for others joy. Just like the full ghouls you spent your time during the show in your human form but unlike them you had a harder time forcing it to stay when you were exhausted.

Papa copia unbeknownst to you had his eye on you, hes the only one who saw you this morning, the deep bags under your eyes and your ghoulish grey having a pale green seemingly sickly color easily masked by your helmet, if all went well youd rest for extra tonight but he didn't see that being the only end to the night.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

You were a fan favorite, when you weren't singing backup vocals you were running around stage with your hagstorm base shredding in duos with swiss, bursts of fire being shot upwards, the only time you stay away from the edge of the stage, the light from the fire glinting against the slightly matte chrome picguard, just enough to catch you right in the eye blurring your vision with a blinding flash.

to the congregation watching below your jolts you send into moving your bass guitar looked like flare but for you it was sheer panic, the blinding flash was just enough to put you on the edge of tipping into a deeply unwanted headspace at the moment.

prancing over to where mountain is perched at his drums you take yourself out of the limelight and hide yourself in the downcast shadows from his drums, with the last three chords being extended for showmanship you give a desperate glance to papa with hope that he'll see your glance, and such he does.

You station yourself once more at your mic, you stum the starting chords and belt out backup vocals for the final song, your throat aches as your human form is slipping, your eyes having small flickers of change and a small stumble thankfully met with a stomp on the down beat.

papa makes his way your direction ending the set list with 'Darkness at the heart of my love', when it gets to the part without vocals he does hand flourishes while you play your bass passing by with his mic down "tieni duro piccolo", walking his way around the stage to stand center and finish up the song.

In a blurr of time everything felt like it was on sparks of muscle memory and you were at the front with all other ghouls taking a well deserved bow with a standing ovation for each and every single one of you.

Papa copia was the first to lead off stage letting the ghouls throw picks and a few drumsticks from mountain and what not, you didn't stay long to see everything but you did notice people throwing things onstage as gifts; off stage setting down your bass in a stand you stumble into papas open arms.

Your forehead lay gently atop his chest still in your helmet your horns sit near his collar bone shaking yohr head, "i cant papa, i cant" not entirely sure yourself what you meant he hummed in understanding and hushed you, gently rubbing your back and swaying side to side, "stai bene piccolo ghoul, you can rest now. Ive got you, matter of factly weve got you"

Finally relaxing enough to let your ghoul form fall free, your tail limp all of you is exhausted and you feel so small but people always said it was weird and not good, they never listened to you when you said it was involuntary or a coping mechanism it was just permanently bad.

"Oh piccolo, shh your thoughts are so very loud my dear, it is okay to be small, the ministry welcomes all with coping, we will care of you"

He holds you closer and tighter humming a tune, and just like that your walls had fallen, there was no more fighting it, big doe ghoulish eyes staring up at him, complete silence from you.

At this point the others had made their way backstage, dew came walking over to take over while papa helped collect all the instruments. "Dew, could you please take them to the bus? We will get everything "

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》in the bus now and changed in comfortable clothes dew led you to the ghoul pile nest, when you refused to sit down he stepped aside watching as you grab your comfort item from your personal bunk and made your way back to the nest laying in the center, followed by him curling himself around you.

The ghouls only ever took their helmets off when in a homely environment so dew having his helmet off was his symbol of saying you are safe.

Once everyone had finished packing up and putting stuff away they had all filed in slowly

Cumulus being the first to stop by you and dew at the nest, holding out a plush ghoul for you that she had picked up from the items thrown on stage, papa copia was next to stop by sitting with you and dew, you hadnt noticed until now that he was asleep holding onto you until mountain joined pulling him off of you so you could lean into papa as he held one of your comfort snacks and a juice, both already having been opened by him, he held you as you snacked.

Once you had finished he got up going to the front to drive the bus.

You were once more pulled into the cuddle pile by dewdrop his eyes open long enough to make sure all of your comfort items were tucked against your chest, between you both, "sleep little one, a tiny ghoul needs plenty of rest" soon joined by the rest you had finally fallen asleep, the ghouls were your element aswell. When finally at the hotel for the evening you were carefully awoken by papa, all the ghouls except dew had gotten up, but even he was awake, but he stayed to keep you warm, "it is time to go in, we are buddy system tonight, four ghouls in a room, each room has two king sized beds so its plentyful room"

You finally let go of dew and stretch, getting up to get ready you realize your overnight bag has already been packed and one of the taller ghouls hoodies layed out next to it, you could hear the ruckus at the front of the bus of all the other ghouls ready to bunk up in the hotel.

You slip on the hoodie which you now know belongs to swiss, his smell encapsulating your mind.

Papa comes up behind you placing a hand on your back "piccolo the ghouls have decided you can pick who youre bunking with, they want to be sure youre okay when tiny, loro ti amano"

You make your way to the front of the bus where you find the ghouls with their charm up. looking to papa followed by you tapping swiss, rain and mountain on the heads, the three stand up, mountain takes your bag and rain scurrys away and back with your mask in hand "are you able to use charm right now or is the mask a better option?" He questions

Taking a moment to test how well the charm feels, you point at the mask. Nodding he gently places it atop your head, he places his hand under your chin causing you to look up so he can buckle it up and tan pats you atop your head, swiss gently pulls the back of the hoodie at the bottom away from your back "curl your tail tiny" tucking it under the hoodie

Once in the room mountain sets down the bags he was carrying and helped take the mask off of your noggin, ruffling your hair causing you to chirp in response, rain and swiss hop on the bed closest to the door leaving the one near the window "copia is ordering food for everyone, hes getting youre favorite for you" mountain chimes, grabbing to tv channel guide and flipping through it.

"Movie?" You mumble causing all three of them to look over, normally youre completely silent when youre small, "you wanna watch a movie?" He questions flicking on the tv and sitting on the bed, he turns on Wall-E for you.

Sometime a few minutes later he feels you shuffle closer on the bed cuddling into his side with your comfort item in hand.

After dinner was delivered and eaten and the movie was over you had tucked yourself on your side of the bed you shared with mountain, rains lamp still on so he could read while swiss was practically cuddled ontop of him, every time you would shift or turn in bed they could hear it, causing them to watch you carefully when youd move or grumble is dissatisfaction.

there was just no way to get comfortable, this wasnt home or the bus, you werent wrapped in your family, you huff out rolling over to look at mountain, to your suprise he was looking right at you quizically.

You quickly curl into his side before he got the chance to say anything, "o parum ghoul, mi amor, papa is right, your thoughts really are so very loud" swiss sighs, pulling himself out of his bed followed by rain who lay on your open side and swiss next to mountain, it may not be a perfect ghoul pile but its better than before, rolling over when rain pulls out his book to read aloud, your head on his chest.

listen to the thrum and Rumble deep in his chest, your eyes fall closed but not before you wrap your tail around swiss' wrist where it resides clutched around mountain, your mind will feel fresh and lively tomorrow filed with the itmost of energy, especially after an evening full of cuddles and littlespace, rain places a gentle kiss atop your head and just like that you are asleep.

#nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls x little reader #cardinal copia x little reader #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia x male reader #nameless ghouls x gn reader #agere reader #swiss x reader #mountain x reader #rain x reader

808 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 10 months ago

Text

the cream in cardinal copia’s coffee - cardi x f!reader

you are blessed with the task of making the new cardinal his coffee each morning and on your first day, you forget the evaporated milk.

a/n: the working title of this was "yucky cardi". this is nsfw. the cardinal has returned. blow jobs. rough sex. and more! he is nasty in this. i have not written smut in so long so bear with me! also some of this is just... silly lol. 3k words. ao3 link!

You adjust your habit in the mirror, making sure to tuck any stray hairs inside of it. Today is the first morning you will be delivering the new Cardinal’s coffee and you want to make sure you look perfect. A ghoul had delivered the news the night before, right to your door, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your chance to show the clergy leadership how devoted you are to your beliefs. The task is an important one, given that the Cardinal is a mere week into his new position here. You are excited to welcome him and show him what sets this branch of the ministry apart from the others.

The abbey has been rife with gossip since Cardinal Copia has arrived. It’s been months since the Papal position had been vacated yet your faith never wavered, even as the uncertainty seeped into all aspects of daily life. There had been no Black Mass, no confessional, no figurehead. Just as the tension started to reach a fever pitch, the Cardinal was there with his cane that he tapped alongside him as he surveyed the halls with a silent, menacing glare. He has the blessing: the white eye bestowed upon those touched by Lucifer himself and is an accomplished member of the Clergy in his own right — all signs that point to his potential to lead.

You suck in a sharp breath, holding it deep in your chest as you try to ease your nerves. One last look at yourself in the mirror and you’re off down the hall to the kitchens. You pause at the espresso machine and fish the paper with the instructions out of your pocket: a latte with half a sugar in the raw. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? A mug is plucked off the shelf and you start with the sugar in the raw, ripping a pack in half to dump one into the bottom of the mug and to throw the other away. You set the mug below the espresso drip, making sure there are enough beans before pulling the shots. The machine starts to whir and you take the opportunity to open the fridge and stare at the milk options. Nothing was specified in the instructions. You grab whole milk, assuming it’s a safe choice and pour some into the milk frother, sealing it shut and then turning it on. The milk starts to fluff up as the shots finish pulling and the thought crosses your mind that maybe you’re too good at this. It doesn’t take long for the milk to be done frothing, taking the frother and then carefully pouring the milk into the mug.

Voila, a latte.

You let the milk settle for one second longer and then pick up the mug securely in both hands. Perfect. And now, an anxiety filled walk to The Cardinal’s office. Not much is known about him. During his arrival address he spoke only of furthering the agenda of the Morningstar. No personal anecdotes. You’ve caught glimpses of him since his arrival, a few times in the hallway and once in the courtyard, where you finally got a good look at his face — dramatic nose, sideburns and all. A serious man with a serious face is all you could think. Coming face to face with that man has your stomach in knots now but there is still that underlying feeling of excitement. You make it to his office door and give it a shy knock, making sure your other hand grips the mug.

“Entra.”

You push the door open and slowly walk into his eerie office. The bookcases are covered with dust, papers are everywhere and there’s piles of dust in each corner of the room. You’d think Sister Imperator would have taken the time to have his office cleaned prior to arrival. At least you are here now with his coffee, directions followed to a T. The Cardinal is leaned against his deck, a book opened in front of him but his eyes are focused on you. He’s dressed in a tight, red outfit, one that is more casual than the usual cassock, with a sparkling grucifx on the left of his chest. He says nothing as he reaches for the coffee. All business. You hold it out for him, his smooth leather gloves brushing against your fingers, plucking it from your hands and turning from you as he brings it to his lips. Your heart stops once he takes a sip and…

The Cardinal launches the mug across his office and it shatters against the wall. You stand there mortified, a hand clasping over your mouth from being thrown off. His head wrenches in your direction, the most harrowing anger you’ve ever seen in his fiery eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Cardinal.” Your voice is shattered, your breath trembling as more apologies spill out of you.

One of his gloved hands without warning knocks your habit off your head, grabbing you by the hair and wrenches your head back, your back tilted and true fear in your eyes as he forces you to meet his gaze. Your scalp burns from how tight his grip on your hair is and your knees wobble from the awkward position he has you in. Instinct takes over, fight or flight, your hand connecting with his cheek in a deafening slap. He releases you from his grasp and you fall onto your back as he stumbles backwards. This time you don’t say sorry. You sit up and try to catch your breath, adrenaline still pumping through you. The Cardinal rubs at his cheek, his eyes wild and glued to you.

“The coffee was that bad?”

“Evaporated milk.” He snarls, his tight leather gloves balling into fists.

“What?”

“I only drink evaporated. milk.”

All this over evaporated milk? You angrily reach into your pocket and pull out the note with instructions, waving it erratically in the air.

“Evaporated milk is not in the instructions!” You fling your arm to throw the crumpled note but it slowly drifts to the carpeted floor in front of you.

“Are you being smart with me, cretina?” There’s a strange playfulness in his voice, nestled deep in his growl. He takes a few slow steps toward you, the tension in the air rising. You blink a few times and start to inch away from him but he starts to move further in your direction. Your legs scramble beneath you to bring yourself to your feet, still startled from his advances. There’s no way he’s going to… chase you, right?

As if he could read your mind, his lips curl into a sinister grin and he bolts toward you. You nearly trip over your own feet as you take off in the opposite direction. Adrenaline is pumping through you, dodging obstacles (desk, chair, other chairs) and keeping him out of arm’s reach is only making you feel more insane. This situation is ridiculous and yet you are still terrified of him catching you, keeping your eyes forward to avoid even glancing in his direction. What the fuck is happening? You’ve never heard of any situations like this happening with previous ministry leaders. No stories, no rumors, nothing other than the Papas and Sister treating everyone with the utmost respect, with perhaps a few instances of tensions flaring — but nothing compared to whatever this is.

You round his desk again when, to your horror, the Cardinal leaps into the air, one foot landing on the seat of his chair that propels him to land two feet on top of his desk. A gasp rips from your throat as he lurches towards you, arms outstretched and fingers wiggling. He crashes into you, dragging you to the ground with him as you finally let out a scream. It all feels so — exhilarating in the most perverse way, a way that makes you feel shameful underneath all the fear. The carpet softens your impact but it still hurts, giving another shocked, pained cry after he falls on top of you. A gloved hand forcefully covers your mouth and you finally focus on him, having pinned you to the ground beneath him. The Cardinal’s nose presses against your cheek and he gives a rough growl.

“You have been quite insubordinate in your short time with this task.” His words are venomous and you can feel his spittle on your cheek. You whimper and struggle against him while he uses his body weight to pin you to the floor, his hips digging into yours to keep you in place. Something throbs against your upper thigh. Your head jerks to meet his sneering gaze, glee in his dark eyes. “You know… I have an idea of how you could make it up to me, bambina.” His words send a shiver down your spine but… but you can’t help the sudden ache between your thighs. Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and you’re completely overwhelmed by your conflicting senses. The Cardinal’s body relaxes and his grip on you loosens, giving you a chance to break free of his hand over your mouth.

“I’ll remake your latte. I’ll get it right this time.” The panic is evident in your voice and you try to wiggle out from beneath him. He laughs —- laughs —- in your face and brushes his thumb over your soft lips, drawing a shuddered breath from your lungs.

“That won’t do, sorella, you know that.” The Cardinal purrs and pushes himself to his feet, wiping off imaginary dust from his outfit. His hard cock strains in his tight pants, nearly bursting from the seams. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of it but he tears your attention back to his gaze as he grabs you by the collar of your habit and yanks you to your knees. Your head is spinning, trying desperately to catch up with the situation. He grabs you by the chin and forces your attention thin on his face, his eyes hungry as he works his pants down with his other hand. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, pressing your thighs together as your core pulses.

“Will you obey now, sorella?” He whispers almost sweetly while his thumb presses down on your tongue. You’ve been able to hold yourself together so far but this, the taste of his leather gloves on your tongue forces a shameless groan from your mouth. The Cardinal blinks, surprised by your reaction but his lips twitch into a grin. “Oh, you will. You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” He removes his thumb to your dismay but he quickly replaces it with three of his gloved fingers that push far back into your mouth. Your eyes water as you gag on them and he gives a satisfied grunt. You watch as he removes them from your mouth only to use your slick to pump his cock. The Cardinal is smiling down at you, angling his hips to brush the weeping head across your cheek, drawing another moan deep from you.

“You know how to make it better.” His voice has dropped to a low rumble as he settles himself against your lips. You swallow thickly, then slowly part your lips for him, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. The Cardinal gives a hum of approval, his hand falling to rest in your hair with a far more gentle touch than you were expecting. You sink further down his length, easing your jaw and relaxing your throat until your nose is pressed against his neat pubic hair. He exhales sharply through his nose, a breath catching as you swallow around him. His cock twitches in your mouth and he gives a shallow thrust, causing you to gag. From then on, the Cardinal is relentless.

His hand knots in your hair as he fucks your face, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants trying to hold yourself in place. Your tongue runs along the length of his cock with each thrust, his grunts and groans filling your ears. You feel so deliciously used, knees digging into the carpet and the inside of your thighs slick with arousal. The Cardinal breath starts to grow ragged, his hips stuttering as he forces your head up, meeting his gaze from beneath heavy lashes. His hazy white eye glows, the Dark One’s blessing reveling in the invocation lust, and his lips part, smeared with his black paint. You moan around his cock, nails raking down his thighs and he gives a choked growl.

“P-putana, so fucking e-eager to please.” The Cardinal hisses, tugging sharply at your hair making you whimper. “You w-want me so badly, eh, s-sorella? Sucking your Cardinal’s cock l-like a good, ah, girl.” He pulls you off of him by your hair and you stumble onto your ass again. “Don’t you? Don’t you want my cock, sorella?” He lazily strokes himself, tilting his head as he hovers over you, standing between your legs. Your heart thunders in your chest, sucking in a deep breath while your knees tremble. You know what you want to say. You want him to fuck you right here on the carpet. You want him to keep talking dirty to you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak so instead you chew on your swollen bottom lip and nod shyly.

The Cardinal has you by the hips in the blink of an eye and he flips you over so that you’re on your stomach. He hikes up your habit above the swell of your ass and toys with the hem of your panties as he presses his cock against your inner thigh.

“Ah, so wet for your Cardinal.” He hisses, his fingers grazing your slick folds. Your mouth drops open, whining as your eyes fall shut. With a surprising amount of care, the Cardinal slides your underwear down your thighs, leaving them at your knees before running his hands back up your thighs to settle them on your hips. You lean back into his touch, feeling the head of his cock against your entrance. “S-so fucking eager f-for me to take you.” He chuckles then thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt. You lurch forward, your fingers digging into the carpet, screaming out in surprise. He fills you completely, taking a moment to get used to his size while you feel him throb against your walls. “Tell me. T-tell me how badly you want this.”

“Please.” You gasp, arching your back to try and press further into him. “C-Cardinal, please.” He’s heard enough, his grip on your hips bruising as he bucks into you at a frenzied pace. His strong thighs slamming against your ass, each snap of his hips sending you forward, nearly getting fucked across the floor. You can’t stop moaning, tears streaming down your face as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He shoves your head to the floor, your cheek flush against the soft carpet, angling his hips to fuck into you even deeper. The way he moves is violent, your fingers digging into the carpet to keep yourself from collapsing. You feel your muscles start to tighten, tensing up as your legs tremble and drool starts to drip from the corner of your mouth. Cardinal… oh, Cardinal… you’re whimpering for him over and over, a stark change from the defiance you slapped him with earlier.

“S-such a fucking obedient little pup.” He hums and leans over you to press his chest against your back, his strangled breaths and moans filling your ears. The truth is, Cardinal Copia has been thinking about this — about you whimpering beneath him as he filled you — the moment he first saw you. The courtyard. The way you nearly gawked at him made his cock twitch in his cassock. He thought about what was beneath your modest habit, what sounds you make when you’re excited and needy, how your tight pussy would feel around him. He signaled a ghoul shortly thereafter to provide you with the good news and he provided the incorrect instructions himself. The Cardinal knew your type upon laying eyes on you, always so eager to follow directions, proud of your minuscule contributions to the ministry. He knew he could reduce you to this — a mess beneath him.

Your climax rips through you, burning hot currents flowing through you before collapsing beneath him as he tries to hold you upright to chase his own release. He’s so rough, so violent with you, his hips pistoning into you with such force that you’re sure your ass is going to bruise. The Cardinal is nothing more than a beast of lust in this moment, taking and taking from you until he can’t take anymore. He pulls out and ropes of cum land on your exposed, red behind. You’re frozen on the floor, heartbeat in your ears just waiting for him to make his next move, the fear starting to slowly seep back into your mind. He catches his breath behind you, fingers starting to play with your panties again before pulling them back up gingerly, trapping his cum inside you.

“Keep these on all day, sorella. That is an order.” The Cardinal purrs, giving your ass a playful slap and then rises to his feet.” You shift yourself up to your hands and knees, shakily looking over your shoulder at him. He is grinning from ear to ear, his white eye still shining. “I’ll know if you disobey.” He winks then reaches a gloved hand out to you. You don’t hesitate, taking it and allowing him to help him to your feet but you stay silent, vigilant even, in case he is going to try anything else. He gives your hand a tight squeeze once you’re to your feet and lets go, sauntering back over to his desk to pick up the book he had been reading prior to your visit.

“You’ll get my coffee 100% corretto tomorrow, si?” The Cardinal quirks a knowing brow at you, a smile still playing on his lips. You nod silently. His smile only grows and he waves his hand at you, dismissing you from his office and sinking back into his all business demeanor. You waste no time, shuffling out of the room and finally allowing yourself to breath again once the door shuts behind you.

Are you terrified of what tomorrow could bring? Yes.

Still, you can’t help but wonder how he would punish you if next time you purposefully screw up his coffee.

#cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia #copia x reader #the band ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia x female reader #papa emeritus iv

202 notes · View notes

copiasslut · 3 months ago

Text

ok ghesties I’m ovulating and my hormones got me horny af rn so pls link me some new Copia fics, it’s whore hours out here 👏🏼

(other than sadglo, avalanche & stay and burn bc they’re already my favs hehe)

Tysm 😌

#cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x reader #papa iv x reader #ghost fic

57 notes · View notes

honeyynymphh · 1 month ago

Text

| A Lesson in Heroinism |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E word count: 4.8k tags: dom copia, vampires, teacher/student (sort of), light dom/sub, p in v, copia is a dick

They say Cardinal Copia is a vampire but you don't believe that...do you? Sequel to Freshly Squeezed but can be read independently.

read on ao3 18+ MDNI

Three paces, turn, one step—mind the crack—two more paces, stare at the clock. Sigh. Turn, three paces. One step—

“Sister.”

You stop, foot hovering in the air and stare at the ghoul across from you that’s waiting outside Sister Imperator’s office. The ghoul narrows its eyes at you. “Stop pacing, you are making me feel anxious. And I am a demon. Demons do not get anxious.”

“Sorry!” You drop your foot and stumble on the hem of your habit, hitting your shoulder on the stone wall. You hear the ghoul snicker before Imperator’s office door opens and it slinks inside.

Rubbing your arm, you flop down on the small bench outside the door you’ve been pacing in front of. You’ve already been sitting there for thirty minutes and you’re restless. You’d woken up to a note from Cardinal Copia requesting you come see him and here you damn well were. Standing again, you stare up at the intricate pattern on the abbey’s cathedral ceiling.

You were nervous. The last time you’d been alone with the Cardinal, only last night, his cock had been buried in your cunt and he’d given you the best orgasm you’d ever had. It felt like it had been some sort of wild dream and if it wasn’t for the bruises on your hips and the way your body still aches, you might have believed it had been.

You hope it will happen again. Why else would he ask you to come to his office this morning?

Squeezing your thighs together you continue pacing a moment before you lean against the door. Perhaps you should just leave. This was ridiculous waiting so long for that horrible old man.

And he was horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Cantankerous. Unfair. Very good with his hands—wait, no! You huff out in frustration and your breath catches when the door you are leaning on suddenly snaps open.

You stumble backwards and feel two hands grab you firmly by the shoulders so you don’t fall over.

“Do you make it a habit of stumbling into places, Sister?” whispers a taunting voice by your ear.

You right yourself and spin around to glare at Cardinal Copia. He’s standing there, looking all neat in his black cassock as he flicks non-existent lint off one shoulder.

“I have been waiting for nearly an hour!” you say angrily. “And you’ve been in here the whole time?”

“It’s been twenty minutes.” The man shrugs. “I thought you’d be late.”

“I can tell the time, Cardinal.”

“Mmm.” You could tell he doubted that very much.

He was such an arse! You couldn’t believe he’d touched you—fucked you! Your whole body flushes at the memory. Maybe it had been a truly delirious dream. His strange eyes slowly take you in from head to toe and again you feel the flush.

You swallow your nerves and lift your chin. “Well? Why did you wish to see me?”

The man just tilts his head and clicks his tongue, still staring at you. You shift on your feet awkwardly. Hells, you wish he would stop staring at you.

Finally he sighs and says, “Papa Primo says you’ve been doing exemplary work in the greenhouses.” He says the words with a high amount of scepticism and you briefly wonder if you could poison Copia and get away with it. Something to think about. “And he has requested that your shifts in the archives with Cardinal Giorgio be swapped for assisting him.”

You perk up at that. The archives are interesting but Cardinal Giorgio and dusty, dark rooms were awfully monotonous. And Copia spent too much time in the library, before last night you would have done anything to get away from him. But now…? There is a look in his eyes you still don’t like, no matter how good his cock had been, it still didn’t make up for his terrible and downright rude personality. Besides all that, you did really like working in the greenhouses, plants were one thing you understood and loved.

“Well, that would be wonderful!” you say, seeming to forget with whom you are speaking with.

Cardinal Copia smiles, and it's a wretched evil little smile that makes your stomach feel uneasy.

“I told Papa no,” he says airily as your brow furrows. “Cardinal Giorgio needs your assistance more than Papa Primo and you already know the ins and outs of the archives, it would take too much time to train another sibling.”

You shake your head. “So why did you call me in here?”

“Just to keep you informed, Sister.” He gives another one of his terrifyingly gleeful smiles. “Now I must get to the chapel and so should you.”

He pats you on the shoulder before breezing past you and you dumbly watch him stalk down the hall, siblings scattering away like frightened mice. Maybe it had really been a dream. You just cannot believe that last night had happened.

You glance at the Cardinal’s desk and you roll your eyes at the overly neat way it is laid out—it’s pathological. You just know if you got a ruler out that his pencils would be the same width apart. In a fit of mischief, you move everything to the left a centimetre, twist his books so they’re slightly off and turn his idol of Lucifer a couple of degrees to the right. You even, with a lot of exertion, managed to drag his desk on one side so it’s ever so slightly off. Satisfied, you wipe the sweat from your brown and smile to yourself before hurrying out of his office.

Later that afternoon, you sit in the lecture hall, listening to Copia droning on about some demon or rather. You weren’t paying attention—you rarely did. Today it was more out of spite than not caring about whatever it was the evil old bastard was blathering about. What was his problem, you wonder? You shift in your seat and poke at a bruise on your thigh, again to reassure you that, yes, last night he had fucked you to hell and back.

Was this some sort of payment for pleasure? Did you now have to suffer for the absolute high you had experienced? That seemed like something too Catholic for this unholy institution. And, it was bad enough that it had been at the hands of Cardinal Copia, was that not punishment enough? You told yourself it didn’t matter, you didn’t care. You would just think about it for the rest of your life. You sigh and settle into the chair further.

Sitting at the back of the room was the best place, the afternoon sun was streaming through the high glass windows. It was warm on your face, and the sound of Copia talking at the front of the class was easy to tune out. Besides, the book you had stashed in your bag was calling your name. One of the perks of working in the library meant seeing a whole catalogue of different books. Some of them happened to include trashy romances with lots of monsters and a whole lot of satanic debauchery. Most were truly awful but they were a lot of fun—much more fun than whatever the Cardinal was talking about.

Glancing at him, you saw he was scribbling some diagram on the large chalkboard and grabbed the worn novel out of your bag, slipping it in front of the large demonology textbook and propping it slightly up so the paperback wasn’t visible.

You sink a little further into your chair and lose yourself in the story.

The dress ripped as his rough hands tore at the fabric, making Marianna gasp. She could feel his hard length against her thigh. How she wanted him! But it was too risky here on the terrace—anyone from the ballroom could come outside and find them. But Marianna could not help the burning fire in her belly and the look in Lord Cross’s dark eyes.

Were the rumours true? Would he feast on her virgin flesh? Marianna could not bring herself to care, for his hot mouth upon her soft skin was making her come undone. He—

“Sorella.”

You flinch, twisting around in your chair to find Copia towering over you. All eyes of the class are on you as a leather clad hand reaches over and plucks the book out from within its hiding spot.

Oh fuck.

You swallow and stare up at him. Maybe he won’t mind. Maybe…maybe he will make you stay after class. You press your legs together, suddenly somewhat hopeful. Copia smiles at you, and that hope is extinguished immediately.

He glances at the cover. “This is not the required reading, Sister.” He dangles the offending paperback like a proud housewife holding a dead mouse. “I do not want this in my lectures.”

“Yes, Your Eminence.” God the last time you had said that you’d been riding his cock. Your face flushes, his face barely betrays a thing except for dilated pupils and the twitch of his moustache.

An eyebrow quirks in question and he opens the book again, the only sound in the room is the bated breath of every other sibling as Copia’s leather gloves flick over the pages.

He pauses, eyes darting over the pages. “What is this ‘velvet-wrapped steel penetrating the precious valley between her legs’? Why do they not just say cock, sister?” He snaps the book shut, lips now twisting into a gleeful smirk. “Don’t you prefer cock in your wet cunt, eh?”

Everyone else laughs, grateful for the release of tension. The colour drains from your face as you watch him walk away and hear the loud thud of the book hitting his desk. You slink lower into your chair. But you aren’t free yet. Copia calls out to you from the front of the room and all eyes snap back to you.

“You will stay after the lecture has ended, Sister.” He taps the chalkboard. “Do try to pay attention.”

You glare at him, crossing your arms and keeping your eyes on him for the rest of the lecture. You don’t hear a word, too busy wondering about how that stupidly large nose of his would feel between your legs. Maybe you could suffocate him with your thighs.

When the lesson finally ends, you slowly make your way down to the front and you stand at the desk and wait. His eyes land on you and he stares a moment before he speaks.

“You are here to learn, Sorella,” he says. “Not to read badly written pornography.”

It wasn’t that bad, you think. “Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Good girl.” Oh hells, you think, don’t say that. “Now, tomorrow I want your full attention. You will sit right here.”

He points at the row of desks at the front. You just nod.

“Bene.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You can leave now.”

“But my book!” you say, any pretence of politeness forgotten. “And you said you would give me my knickers back!” you add in a harsh whisper. An eyebrow is arched but you aren’t cowed. It’s hard to be afraid of a man when you’ve ridden his cock and then tottered back to your room with his cum dripping down your thighs. Well, maybe he is still a little intimidating. “Your Eminence,” you add politely.

“You can survive without this brain rotting vulgarity for a day,” he says. “And your…panties?”

Your brow wrinkles. ‘Panties’ is not a word Cardinal Copia should say.

“Yes,” you say, trying to remain polite. “You said you would give them back to me.”

“Hmm?” He reaches into a pocket somewhere within his black cassock and you see him pull your knickers out. You go to grab them but he snatches his hand away. “Did I? I can’t say I recall that.”

You watch him bring them to his face, that stupid nose of his pressing against the fabric and inhaling deep. It shouldn’t make you cunt ache but it does. Your body feels caught between arousal and anger so you simply storm off, hearing the sound of his chuckle behind you.

It was midnight. It was freezing. It was a stupid idea.

However!

You were so restless. And that evil man had taken your book. You were not brave enough to spy on him again, not after his utter dismissal of you. The other night had definitely happened. You could barely stop thinking about it. Yet he had made no effort to try and get you into his bed again—well, not that you had been in his bed but that wasn’t the point. It had been crazy enough that you wanted Copia and now? You’d had him and your ridiculous body only wanted more. Maybe you should just go and find some relief with someone else—Terzo was always more than amiable. You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night with Papa.

You wanted something exhilarating. The Cardinal was a little frightening—more than a little—and fuck. The way he had touched you had been downright sinful. You wanted more of him.

It was a shame that he was such an ass. Maybe you could shove your panties in his mouth. Hmm. Though, he did have a lovely voice and some of the things he had said…you shuddered. However, you did not want to embarrass yourself any further in front of him. It was clear he thought you stupid, and perhaps you weren’t the most clever sibling but you were not an idiot.

All these thoughts run through your head as you sneak down the empty halls. Cardinal Georgio still had yet to notice the key was missing and you weren’t going to be too hasty in returning it. It meant you could access not only the archives but the entire library! You would just duck in, grab another book and get out.

You’d grabbed an oil lamp when leaving your room and now you let its soft light guide you through the many shelves. There were so many books to choose from and the smell of the library was so comforting. The books slumbered in their shelves as you walked past, fingers idly dragging over the titles.

When you hear a noise you freeze, turning the lamp off and ducking behind a shelf. You peer through a gap and see a small figure dart down the shelves, coming closer to you. They also have an oil lamp in their hands. The room is silent as they scurry along, their head bobbing as they scan the books before them.

It’s another Sister, though you cannot tell who in the darkness. You watch her and hear her muttering under breath. She’s too busy reading the spines of the books with the light of the lamp to notice the figure in the shadows slowly approaching her. You want to tell her to run but she’s too far away, and you don’t want the figure to notice you.

As even in the murky darkness there is no mistaking the shape and walk of Cardinal Copia. He’s slowly creeping towards her and when he is a foot away, he stops and leans forward to whisper in her ear.

She shrieks.

“You’ll wake the entire abbey,” you hear him snap. “Why are you out of bed at this hour?”

“Cardinal!” The poor girl sounded panicked. “I have an exam tomorrow and I needed—“

“You should have thought of that earlier,” he says as he shoos her out the large doors, “get back to the west wing now, Sorella.”

You watch a moment, seeing the Cardinal shut the large doors behind him. After a moment, when there are no sounds but your own breathing, you light the lamp again. Slowly creep towards the door and take the key from your pocket, locking it. No more distractions.

Feeling like you can breathe again, you head back to the shelves and flick through the dusty books until you find something that catches your interest—vampires. You read the blurb at the back, something about a dashing count living in the Italian countryside who has gone mad over his lost love and turned to Satan, changing him into a blood sucking devil. You briefly flick through the pages and decide that it will do for the night. You go to leave but you yelp at the sight of Cardinal Copia standing right in front of you and drop the book. Horrified, you watch as he slowly bends and picks it up.

In the low light of the oil lamp, he looked even more frightening than usual. You had become so used to the clergy members and their painted faces that sometimes you really never noticed how sinister they were. Mostly because they were all so welcoming and kind but the Cardinal did not look welcoming and he certainly never looked kind.

“Missing the velvet-wrapped steel that much are we, dolce?” he purred as you back up, hitting the shelf. He looks at the book in his hands and then gives you a look you can't quite discern. “Vampires?” He grins then.

“Yes, well, someone stole my other book,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “It’s not a crime to read a book.”

“It’s not,” he agrees. “Perhaps if you paid attention in class you might find something more exciting than these trashy novels.”

"Like what?”

“A real vampire.”

You scoff. “There are no vampires.”

“You sound so certain, Sorella,” he says with a mocking tone.

You scoff again. “There aren’t. You told us months ago there weren’t any. There hadn’t been in years.”

“Ah, so you do occasionally pay attention,” he says.

You roll your eyes. Vampires were interesting. Demons that stole your livestock were not.

“But I do think you should stop scurrying around at night, Sister, you might find yourself in more danger than you expect.” He glances at your rosary, a hand lifting to tap it. “And the lord below won’t be able to help you.”

He is standing very close now and the shadows cast by the lamp makes his face look absolutely terrifying. He smiles and the light catches on his teeth. Fuck did his teeth look sharper or was your mind just playing tricks?

You take a step back but he follows, your heartbeat picking up and thundering. It’s just late and he’s trying to scare you, that’s all this is. You pat the little pocket within your habit to reassure yourself of the key but freeze.

The key.

You locked that door. Maybe he came through the archives hidden passage? But he hadn’t come from that direction, you would have seen him if he did.

“I locked the door,” you say dumbly.

Copia tilts his head to the side and watches you a moment, his body far too still before he nods slowly. “You did.” He smiles at you but it offers no comfort at all. “Scared you’re going to be eaten, little mouse?”

“No!” you say, hating that you do indeed sound like a squeaking little mouse. “No. I’m not, because you’re not a vampire.”

“Are you so sure?”

Was he really telling you he was a vampire? Surely not. But how did he get in here? Had he turned into a bat? No! A rat? You’d surely read that somewhere before. Also you had seen him talking to his rats…maybe they did really understand him! And there were the rumours that he was a vampire, but it was just something that the siblings talked about behind his back. It wasn’t real.

But the ghouls were real. Demons were real. Was it so far-fetched? You weren’t a silly heroine in one of your books. You knew about these things! You tried to think about what you had learned about vampires.

“All the things you’ve taught us,” you begin to say, gaining more confidence as the information resurfaces in your mind, “sunlight, garlic—I’ve seen you eat garlic bread on pizza night, Cardinal!”

“Si, si,” he grins and your mounting confidence flags at the sight. “These are things that I've taught you.”

Your mind halts a moment, frozen by his words. He comes closer then, his cassock brushing against you as he moves. The way he towers over you, lit by the lamp makes his strange eyes look even creepier. You swallow thickly and take another small step back but the Cardinal follows.

“Frightened, dolce?” the words come out in a drawn out purr, he sounds excited as those eyes watch you unblinking. A gloved hand reaches out and takes the lamp from your unresisting hands.

You shake your head. “No…”

“Hmm, you don’t sound so sure,” he says, voice dropping low. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

You shake your head again, “No…”

“What a pity.”

The light in the lamp is extinguished and suddenly it's pitch black in the library. It will take too long for your eyes to adjust and even then, the Cardinal doesn’t give you a moment to breathe let alone orientate yourself.

He strikes fast, enveloping you in his embrace and pinning you against the bookshelf, causing a few books to clatter to the floor. His mouth is upon your neck, lips hungrily searching for your thundering pulse. When he finds it, he latches into your skin and sucks, tongue laving and teeth nipping at the skin. You don’t know if he’s broken skin or not but you’re not really thinking straight. The sudden adrenaline rush has your head spinning and those kisses on your neck have your pussy throbbing.

“Ah, my little mouse, how delicious you taste.” He chuckles against your skin before his mouth slides across your jaw and captures your lips.

There is the taste of his paint but it’s nothing compared to the taste of him. Did vampires have some addictive saliva? You wonder idly. Pinned against the bookshelf, there is little room for much though as he presses into you. You can feel the hardness of him through his cassock and you desperately try to press against it, craving friction as his mouth devours yours.

You feel him laugh against your mouth. “Sempre così bisognoso…”

You hum with pleasure when he slides a leg between you so you can press your aching cunt against it, gaining some relief. His mouth continues to ravage yours until his lips are back against your neck, making you shiver every time his teeth graze against the skin. A leather clad hand has snaked up into your hair, pulling you closer to him. You continue to grind against his leg but it isn’t enough, you need more.

You manage to pant out a desperate sounding plea for more which is quickly answered. The burning desire within you is insistent and wanton, you feel slightly mad with lust. Before you know it, he’s pulled your knickers down and your habit is bunched around your waist, his cock there, nudging at your slick cunt before he slides into you with one quick thrust. You moan as fills you, the stretch feeling far too good and his answering growl has your gripping at his shoulders as he thrusts up into you quickly, causing even more books to topple over and clatter on the floor. Head spinning, you feel like you’re on the edge of passing out in the most delicious way. Was it the blood loss?

You don’t even care, your body is singing with carnal delight even as books dig into your back. You know you’re going to come soon and you moan out insensible nonsense as you feel your walls tighten around him. The deep coiling tension with your belly snaps as the rolling waves of pleasure wash over you. It’s an effort to stay upright but you needn’t have bothered to try as you feel his cock pull out so he can pick you up and quickly move you to one of the many wooden tables that fill the library.

Back against the cold wood, through heavy eyes you manage to see his outline in the darkness. There is only the light from the moon outside that filters down the high windows and into the library. It’s not enough to see him clearly but you can make out that eerie white eye. You shudder in anticipation.

“Will you be good for your Cardinal again, dolce?” you hear him ask, the low tone of his voice making your pussy throb.

“Yes, Your Eminence,” the words are soft and come to you too easily, you are too blissed out to care what he does next and your body is still craving more.

Again he is upon you, cock nudging between your soaked thighs until he is thrusting deep. Your back arches off the table as he fills you again, causing another fire to build deep within you. You want to reach for him, to grip and hold, but before you can even move, his hands are pressing yours against the wood, almost painfully so. But it’s nothing compared to the way his cock feels.

He moves fast and deep, and your stomach clenches in anticipation of your next release. It’s building far too quickly. The Cardinal leans over you then, his body covering yours so his mouth is once more against your neck. You don’t catch the words he mutters before his teeth bite into the soft flesh. The pain feels so good in conjunction with the way he continues to fuck into you roughly and you tilt your hips to meet him as you shatter.

Clenching hard around him and not caring if anyone in the abbey is woken by your screams, you let the pleasure take you. The Cardinal is still within, buried deep and you feel his cock within you kick and you know he is filling you, the growling noise he makes vibrating through your spent body.

It feels like an age before the heady rush has cleared. You gingerly sit up when removes himself from you. When the oil lamp is lit your eyes squint to look at Copia, whose face is smeared in paint, you know yours must be too. Eyes widening in recollection, you quickly touch your neck and look at your hand. But there is no blood on it. You touch it again, prodding at the skin with your fingertips. It feels tender and there are indents, but the skin is not broken.

Huh?

Copia smooths down the front of his cassock and raises an eyebrow as you look at him in bewilderment. “Get up, Sorella.”

“But—” you stop talking when you see him pull a small key out from within his cassock.

“You have a key.” You stare at it as you carefully stand. Where are your knickers?

"How do you think I got in here if I didn't have a key, Sorella?” He scoffs. “Fly in as a bat?"

"No…” You offer him a sheepish look. “I thought a rat."

“A rat.” His expression is blank as you try to tidy yourself up. You look around for your knickers but can’t see them. You shake your head, it wouldn’t be the first time there had been a tryst in the library.

You pull your attention back to the Cardinal. “You like rats. And they’re cute.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to Cardinal Copia but it’s hard to care right now. God that man fucked good. It was not fair, you think.

“Do I look ‘cute’ to you, Sorella?” he asks.

No, he did not. He looked a little insane with his painted lips smeared and his hair a mess.

“You said there were vampires,” you say petulantly, aware that he had just played you for a fool.

He starts to move for the large library doors and you follow, aware that his seed is dripping down your thighs. You need to shower. And to rethink your life choices.

“It’s called a lie," says Copia. He thinks for a moment as he pauses at the door and unlocks it. “Though you’ve had a conversation with Cardinal Georgio. He is like a vampire, the most boring man I’ve ever met. Sucks the fun out of everything.”

You nod emphatically as you lull into this strange comfortable silence with the Cardinal. Cardinal Georgio was so incredibly boring it was honestly impressive. When you’re through the door and it is once more locked, Copia grabs your arm and you turn to face him again, startled by the move. Hells, his paint really is a mess.

“Sorella,” he says.

“Yes?”

He steps close again and your heart picks up. “While I cannot drain you dry, I can do something far worse.”

“What?” you ask, horrified.

“Fail you. Do not read that trash in my lectures again.”

Sempre così bisognoso… - Always so needy…

#my-writing #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #fanfic #fic: a lesson in heroinism #series: misadventures in the ministry

68 notes · View notes

gravehags · 5 months ago

Text

the one who comes (richly endowed)

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: rough sex, cum eating, copia in that goddamn white suit, oral (m receiving, through pants), semi public sex, ghoul voyeurism, masturbation, curator reader being evil

Words: 3,459

Summary: A series of sartorial events.

a/n: i am quite literally always saying how i'm going to suck copia off through those white lululemon leggings so you know. here you go.

~~~

“The eh, Ministry tailor wants to go over some of the tour outfits tomorrow afternoon. Care to join me?”

You yawn wide enough to pop your jaw and snuggle into the side of your lover, fingers raking through his abundant chest hair. He’s got a book propped up on his belly and his reading glasses perched on his long nose as he pauses every few moments to notate something in the margins or underline.

“Yes please,” you say, leaning forward to place a kiss to each of the entwined 6s tattooed on his freckled pectoral. The action makes him chuckle, eyes briefly leaving the page to flick to you.

“You promise not to get too jealous?” he asks innocently, turning the page, “I mean these are the outfits my adoring fans will be seeing me perform in while you’re stuck here at the abbey. Who knows what kind of mischief I could get up to?”

You snort and sharply pinch his nipple, causing him to let out a ridiculously rat-like squeak.

“You’re not the only one who could get up to mischief,” you coo, “When the Cardinal’s away, the curator will play, hmm? I bet Terzo isn’t busy these days…”

Copia lets out a growl and removes his glasses, tossing them carelessly on the nightstand along with his book.

“What did you say?”

You’re trying so hard to bite back the evil grin that threatens to spread across your face as you lean away from your lover to flop onto your back and stare at the bed canopy above you.

“I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to seek out some ah…diversion in your absence. Particularly when you’re going to have your ‘adoring fans’ crawling all over you. Tell me, which of the Papas is best at eating pus–”

You don’t get to finish the sentence because Copia has rolled on top of you and situated himself between your legs.

“Dolcezza,” he leans in to growl in your ear, making a delightful shiver run up your spine, “Do not toy with me. Do not make me keep you tied to my tour bus bed with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air to use as I please every night, eh?”

You giggle warmly.

“I don’t know, sounds kind of ideal to me,” you purr, “To be so deliciously, divinely stuffed with your cum over and over after every show. What is it the siblings call me? ‘The Cardinal’s mistress’? And what is it the ghouls call me? Ah yes, ‘the Cardinal’s mate.’ Would you mate with me in that tour bus, amore? Loud and feral, for all your ghouls to hear? I think they’d like to wat–ah!”

Flinging back the covers and sitting on his haunches, he grabs you and roughly flips you over.

“Piccola provocazione mia,” he sighs, rucking your nightgown over your hips and bending your knees, “If you wanted my cock so badly tonight–” he says, and you hear him yank down his sleep pants behind you, “--all you had to do was ask.”

You giggle into the pillow as he drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Much more fun this–ah!--way! Fuck, Copia!”

He’s bottomed out inside you before you can even finish your sentence and places a firm hand between your shoulder blades as he begins to roughly fuck you. You turn your head to the side to get some air and so he can hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“You–ah–want it like this? Bent over and spread open for anyone to watch? To listen? Tesoro, we should recruit you for–hngh–sex rituals. Who knew a sweet girl like you liked–ah–an audience?”

The snap of his hips against yours is ruthless and the sound of his balls slapping against you with each thrust drives another moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, Copia, right there! Feel so good baby, l-love it when you u-use me, ah!”

His hand on your back presses you further into the mattress, causing you to arch your back even more sharply. The new angle has starbursts exploding across your vision.

“Sei mio,” he grunts, his grip on your hip bruising, “And until the m-moment I leave for t-tour I’ll–ah–gladly remind you, s-si?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you chant, pushing back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, “Mmm fuck, Copia, make me yours!”

His fingers abandon your hip to reach around and slide through your folds, moaning at how wet you are. When he brushes against your clit, you let out a sharp whine.

“Copia, please! Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck!”

Your cunt spasms around him and you cry out as he brings you over the edge, his name on your lips.

“Ragazza brava mia,” he moans, “My perfect girl, so good for me. Cazzo, I’m gonna cum, amore. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine at the loss but crane your head as far back as you can to watch him feverishly stroke his cock.

“Come on baby,” you pant even though your neck is killing you. “Cum on me. Mark me up.”

The sight of his fist rocketing along his reddened cock, slick with your juices has you grinding into the mattress, desperate for another release. When he cums with a shout, covering your lower back in spurts of his seed your body sags into the bed. You can hear his rapid breaths as he wrings out every last drop onto you and finally lets go to survey his handiwork. He drags his forefinger through the mess and you turn your head, opening your mouth obediently. When the warm digit meets your tongue, the salt of him on your tastebuds, you close your mouth around it and suck eagerly.

“What a deviant I have made of a sweet little virgin,” he marvels and you slide off his finger to swallow with a smile.

“Think I was a deviant even when I was a virgin,” you murmur, “You just encouraged it. But some of the fantasies I had…”

“Oh?”

“Get me a rag to clean this up then I’ll tell you all about them, my love.”

He does as he’s told, wiping up his seed and rejoining you in bed so you can assume your earlier positions. You make a bet with yourself about how many times the two of you are going to hunger for one another that night.

As always, both of you exceed your expectations.

–

“What do you think about this? Amore?”

“Hmm?” you look up from the binderful of sketches you’ve been browsing while your beloved and the tailor conversed in rapid Italian, “Think about what?”

Copia stands on a round platform surrounded by mirrors. The tailor leans up against the door and gestures to the Cardinal.

“It’s a good suit, no?”

You smile. Of course it’s a good suit. It’s the suit Copia was wearing the night of your first date. The night where the two of you grinded on each other and made an absolute mess of those trousers. Those lovely, snug trousers and the curve of–

“Amore?” Copia asks, and you see his mustache twitch in amusement.

“It’s great! I love it, did you um…change the material of the pants? From the original suit I mean.”

“Si, si,” the tailor nods, “the Cardinal requires pants with more stretch to allow for vigorous movement on stage.”

Mmm vigorous movement.

“So he’ll be wearing either of his cassocks and uh…this black suit?”

Once again the tailor nods.

“I also have made prototypes in two other colors. Would you like to see those?”

He’s asking Copia too but you interject to answer for him.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re in garment bags in the dressing room, Cardinal.”

The Cardinal gives the tailor a tight smile before turning to you and giving you a look. You smile and shrug. Better him than you, and the way he fucked you last night, you almost collapsed on the floor this morning when you got out of bed while he chuckled, the bastard. He deserves a little torture. A few more minutes pass and he comes out and does a little pose. He looks resplendent in a cardinal red version of the suit and you know you’re grinning like an idiot when he steps onto the platform, preening.

“Oh the red is good, signore,” you tell the tailor, who smiles pleasantly at you. “I think I like it even better than the black. What do you think, my love?”

Copia’s preoccupied with making stupid little muscle man poses in the mirror and you have to stuff your fist in your mouth to muffle your guffaw.

“Huh-wha…what was that, amore?”

“I said, how do you feel about the red?”

“Oh eh, si. Very nice. Vibrant. Is that all?”

“There is one more suit in the dressing room, Cardinale,” the tailor gently reminds him and Copia turns to give you a deep bow before retreating to his cubicle. You hear him disrobe and hang up the red suit followed by unzipping the last garment bag. There’s a shuffle of fabric and Copia makes an odd sound.

“I…I, eh don’t think I’ll come out for this one.”

You look to the tailor nonplussed, who looks to you, equally perplexed.

“Isn’t it just the same suit in a different color, hon?”

“Si, it’s just that it’s eh…” he makes one of his noises, “It’s…ah fuck it.”

When he opens the door and peeks his head out you smile encouragingly. That smile slowly drops as he slides out of the dressing room to stand on the platform, replaced with something more awestruck and hungry. True to the tailor’s word, it is the same suit, however this one is in snow white. He looks incredibly elegant but that’s not what occupies your mind - what occupies your mind is the hefty and defined curve of his cock and balls in those sinfully tight white pants.

“Well, what do you think?”

You let out a lewd gurgle and now it’s the tailor’s turn to muffle his laughter.

“Exactly. I don’t think I’ll be going with this one, signore.”

The string of filth going through your mind is interrupted by his words.

“What?! No!” you splutter, flapping your hands. “No, this one absolutely stays.”

“Amore,” Copia stage whispers, “You can see my whole dick.”

“Yeah, and balls,” you loudly whisper back, “Which is exactly why you’re keeping it.”

“Sarto, will you eh, excuse me and the signorina for a moment per favore?”

The tailor silently nods with an amused expression and steps out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Dolcezza, I am supposed to be on stage in this outfit. I’m supposed to sing while wearing this. You want me to look like a…a Chippendale at these rituals?”

You cough to hide your laughter.

“Beloved, may I be frank with you?”

“Please.”

“People come to these rituals to be tempted, right? To dip their toe into what the Ministry has to offer? Copia I am being so honest with you right now when I say that this–” you gesture to what’s on display at the juncture of his thighs, “--in combination with the music? Baby, you’ll be beating new recruits off with a stick. Might as well have a sign-up booth outside the venue. If I were some wide-eyed, easily influenced young person and I walked into one of your rituals to hear you sing about being the one who comes richly endowed and coming into the daughters of men and whatnot? My love, I would swear myself to Satan for one corn chip if you asked.”

Copia nods slowly, considering.

“You…have a point, dolcezza. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t met you until I became head of the Ghost project so I could see you front row at a ritual…oh the things I would do to you.”

“And you still can,” you murmur, setting the sketch binder aside, “Keep this outfit and I promise you I’ll visit you backstage at one of your shows. I’ll surprise you.”

“Done,” he says, slapping his thigh. A soft knock sounds through the room and the tailor opens the door.

“Everything good?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Molto bene, signore,” you say, “He’s keeping the outfit.”

“Ah, good, good,” the tailor smiles, clapping his hands together, “I was hoping you’d say that because I have a couple accessories for this one.”

You look to Copia, intrigued. The tailor produces a hat box and removes the lid, handing Copia a very dashing black fedora with a white band. The Cardinal places it on his head, looking devastatingly handsome as he poses in the many mirrors. The tailor disappears for a moment and then reappears to hand Copia a black cane with a silver snake handle.

“What do you think, signorina?” the tailor asks, hands behind his back. Copia turns to you and with an evil grin, slides the length of the cane along his cock then rocks his hips against it. Your jaw loosens and your eyes glaze over.

“Amore, the tailor asked you a question?”

“Hard. I mean good! Good! It’s all very good, thank you for indulging me, signore. Beautiful work but I expected nothing less from the man that makes his cassocks. You know, the way the fascia cinches him in and the fabric falls over his as–assets. Uh…”

The tailor coughs, hiding a smile with his fist.

“Grazie, signorina. And grazie, Cardinale. I’ll work on making duplicates of these designs at once.”

Copia nods and steps off the platform to return to the dressing room. A beat passes when you get up and scuttle over to the tailor.

“Is there any way you can make the pants um. Tighter?”

“I heard that.”

—

His veins are on fire, thrumming as he makes his walk off the stage post-encore. The crowd loves him. They love him. The little rat bastard Cardinal makes the beautiful young creatures of the crowd scream and profess their adoration. He’s feeling elated, high as he passes by two roadies and works his way backstage when he hears a low whistle come from a corner near some tour crates. When he looks he double takes because surely he must be dreaming. Surely his eyes must be playing tricks on him as he sees his amore slowly emerge from behind a box wearing that little half-smile you sport when getting up to mischief. Before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s running over to you - damn his sore muscles in need of a long shower - and into your open arms.

“Surprised?” you ask as you throw your arms around his neck.

Immediately he buries his nose into your loose hair and a shudder rips through him as he’s enveloped in your scent. His hands roam your back, sliding down further to cup your ass and pull you into him.

“Mmm insatiable as always,” you mutter into his shoulder, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. The adrenaline of the evening matched with the way you’re gazing at him makes his cock stir. Your lips twitch upwards and eyebrow arches.

“Amore,” he growls, grinding against your belly, “Come to my dressing room so we can–”

“What’s wrong with right here?” you ask innocently, gesturing to the empty nook stacked with gear boxes. “I came such a long way for you, I simply can’t waste another moment.”

When you begin to lower yourself to your knees, his head tips back in a groan. Cazzo, he missed this. When he reopens his eyes he spots something in the darkness further behind you - a slender form in black and a flash of a silver mask.

Dewdrop.

He should tell you, should grab you by the shoulders and scurry away with you somewhere more private but he thinks about that day months ago when you said you wanted to be watched. Copia’s head jerks in a nod in the ghoul’s direction and he sees his mouth fall open in a pant. You’re massaging the meat of his thighs in your perfect little hands when he looks down at you.

“You’re distracted,” you murmur, blinking up at him, “Guess you haven’t missed me much after all.”

“Dolcezza, no!” Copia breathes, gloved hand stroking your hair, “Come up here and I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”

“No, no,” you say airily, and for a horrible moment he thinks he’s seriously hurt your feelings but then you look up and give him a sinister little grin that makes him throb.

“Did they like it?” you ask, trailing your fingertips over his clothed cock.

“L-Like it?”

“The white suit,” you say patiently, dragging your fingernails down his thigh. “How did they look up at you tonight, my love? Were they hungry for you?”

You lean in to place a chaste kiss to his bulge that almost makes his knees give out.

“Will they go home tonight and fuck themselves to the thought of you?”

When you drag the flat of your tongue across his balls and up his cock he whimpers pathetically.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hmmm,” you ponder, thumb rubbing the head of him through his pants. There’s a sizable wet stain on them now from where he’s been leaking pre, “I was out there, you know. Watching. Saw the way you thrusted and fell to your knees and grinded on that cane. Saw the way they all panted for you. And you know what I was thinking the whole time, my love?”

He’s breathing heavy through his nose.

“No, a-amore.”

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”

You lean in and wetly latch onto his balls through the thin fabric and his hand flies to the back of your head. You’re giggling around him and the vibrations make him whimper.

“Fuck, amata mia, yes,” he groans, rocking his hips into your touch. Slowly you drag your tongue along his shaft and even through the material he knows you’re tracing the thick vein. When Copia tilts his head back in a moan, his half-lidded eyes fall on the ghoul in the shadows. Dew is still mostly obscured but even the darkness can’t hide the way his strong hand is sliding along the ridges of his hardened cock. His head is tilted downwards towards you - drinking in the way you look with your thighs splayed in that pretty sundress, your mouth suckling on the head of his Cardinal’s cock. Copia knows he won’t last much longer - not with how worked up he already was from the ritual and with their audience - and he looks down at you adoringly.

“Close, tesoro. Gonna–ah–gonna make me cum in my pants?”

Your lips pull off him for only a moment to give him a wide smile.

“Just like New Year’s Eve. Remember?” You place a hand on his bulge and begin stroking it. “The champagne burning in our veins? The way the curve of your cock felt nudging my clit through those red lace panties you like? How your fingers gripped me hard enough to bruise?”

“Si, si, I remember, I remember, amore,”

“You told me to make a mess of myself. I should have put those panties in your pocket but we already know how you like to steal them yourself, hmm?”

Copia makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine as his cheeks are flooded with red and his hips buck into your touch.

“Dirty old man,” you say with a grin, “Can’t help yourself can you, Cardinal? On stage, in my bed, right now under my hand and mouth–”

He feels the pressure building in his spine as you rub him frantically through his pants.

“--while your ghoul watches us.”

The moan that comes out of him is loud and long, hips rutting against your hand as he cums in ropes and soaks the white fabric. You’re cooing praise at him from your spot on the floor as he takes shuddering breaths. When he looks up, Dewdrop is gone but there’s no mistaking what’s spattered on the floor where he stood. Did you plan this? How could he have known? How could you have known? How–

“Hey,” you say, placing a little kiss to the wet stain on his crotch, “Help me up?”

With a start he bends over and lifts you gently by the elbows until you’re standing and stretching. Overcome with adoration, he grabs you by the back of the head and slots his lips against yours. His ragazza bella. His mistress. His perfect mate.

“So,” you say once you finally manage to pull away from him, “Show me that dressing room?”

#curator reader series #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

300 notes · View notes

luciferscowgirl · 6 months ago

Text

Me every time I read @zombiequeenblog’s fics:

(Me if I had a ghock)

I NEED HIM. I NEED TO LIVE IN THE SADGLO UNIVERSE. I NEED CARDINAL COPIA. I AM SO NOT OKAY WHEN IT COMES TO HIM. HELP ME DEAR LORD SATAN PLEASE.

IT’S STARTING TO HURT.

73 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 10 months ago

Text

The Cardinal's Bride, Chapter 12: Diavolessa

~~ Please visit The Outlaw Brides Masterpost to catch up and read more stories from this world ~~

Thank you to @tasty-ribz for the wanted poster, @ghuleh-recs for the collage and @gothdaddyissues for the dividers! For some more amazing fanart check out: @missygoesmeow (1 / 2), @snail-shell2335 here, @vahvco here, @ghulehgwen here, @rabidghoul here, @nocterish here, @enjoy-my-swearing ( 1 / 2 ), @blacktie-whitenoise (1 /2), @z-xmyers (1/2/3/4), @foxybouquet ( 1 / 2 ), @delulluart here, _simpera_ on instagram and valkyrieinpink on twitter. Also thank you to @kissingghouls for all her help and emotional support.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader: Copia is desperate to find you before you end up in Saltarian's clutches.

Warnings: violence (the usual cowboy violence but Reader is put into danger as well and hurt) a lot of angst and smut (apologies for the vagueness but I'm trying to avoid spoiling anything), nsfw 18+ only mdni, 7,900 words

“You look like shit.”

“Grazie, fratello.”

Secondo snorted, shaking his head once before taking a swig of his whiskey. The two of them were quiet as they sat in his office. Terzo was dabbing at his face with a wet rag to clean up the blood leftover from Copia beating him when they were out on the road. He finally gave up, throwing the bloody rag onto the floor and leaning into the back of the couch.

“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?”

“Copia’s smarter than you give him credit for. He already didn’t want to be out there anyway.”

“Usually he can’t wait to get back on the road.”

“Well usually he doesn’t have a pretty girl waiting for him.”

Secondo groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Think of all you two could accomplish if you thought less with your dicks and more with your brains.”

“Why are you dragging me into this?! I wasn’t the one that fell in love with Saltarian’s fucking fiancé!”

“You’ve had your own issues with lovers.” He rubbed his chest idly, stopping when he felt the familiar chain of his grucifix under the fabric. “I can’t believe you both gave away a family heirloom.”

“For the last time mine was stolen.”

“Then get it back.”

“That was over ten years ago! Who knows where she is now.”

“Considering she was able to steal it from under The Morningstar’s nose I’m sure she’s still out there. Probably robbing banks now.”

Terzo was silent for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face when Secondo glanced at him.

“I’ve thought about it. Looking for her.” Secondo smirked but when Terzo noticed he quickly shook his head. “Only to get my grucifix back. Nothing more.”

“Whatever you say, fratellino.”

Quiet once more settled over them both. The brothers each lost in their own thoughts. Terzo eventually groaned and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and turning to look at his brother.

“Do you believe him?” When Secondo raised an eyebrow he elaborated. “Copia. That he loves her.”

“Sì. I do.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

Secondo was quiet again, staring down at the amber liquid in his glass. He couldn’t get Copia’s face out of his mind. The last time his brother had looked that determined was when they were all hiding in the woods, the smoke from their burning abbey heavy over their heads. Secondo knew then that Copia would stop at nothing to protect his princess, to protect the woman he loved.

He also knew he had a choice to make now, one that would have far reaching consequences for them all. Was he ready to fight again? Was he ready to possibly lose more of his family? This could be their last chance to get their lives back. Their last chance to get their church back.

Secondo wasn’t sure if he still believed anymore. It was hard to after the last decade. After everything that had happened, things none of them deserved. He had built a life here for everyone but there had always been something missing. Something that helped keep them all together has one.

He knew what he needed to do.

“We’re going to fight.” He stood up, pulling his grucifix out from under his shirt and letting it hang out in the open. “We’re going to kill Saltarian once and for all.”

“Pay up shithead.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Our bet. I won.”

“There are a lot of bets between us so you need to be more specif—ow!”

“Copia admitted he loved her! It was amazing, I think Swiss even cried a little.”

Swiss gamely nodded his head, grinning when Dewdrop turned to glare at him.

“Well I didn’t hear it so it doesn’t count.”

“The fuck it doesn’t, Swiss and I both heard it. Even Secondo did! You can ask him when we get back.”

“Uh, no thanks. I’m not sure anyone that brings up Copia or Princess around him will survive.” Dewdrop glanced up towards where Copia and Aether were riding a bit ahead of the group. “Is he even gonna let us come back?”

“He better, I left my favorite gun there.” Sunshine and Dew shared a grin before she held her hand out towards him. “Now pay up.”

“Lucifer’s balls, fine.” He rummaged in the pockets of his coat before he came up with a crumpled bill, balling it up even more and throwing it at her head. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

The three of them quieted down after that, all lost in their own thoughts. Sunshine kept her eyes on Copia and Aether, watching how Copia kept getting more and more tense the longer it took them to find Princess. Rain had picked up her trail heading south, but as of yet they hadn’t run into any other signs of her. Right now Rain and Mountain were scouting ahead, trying to see if she had stayed on the road.

Sunshine was hoping they didn’t find out she was dragged off of it.

“What’s going on now?”

Swiss’s voice snapped Sunshine out of her brooding and she focused on Copia again, noticing that he and Aether had stopped. They seemed to be having a heated conversation so she spurred her horse and quickly headed their way.

“I don’t want to talk about this now.”

“Then when? Look, Boss, I’m not trying to talk you out of anything, I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“Aether right now there is only one thing going through my mind and that is that I have to find her.”

“I know, I know.” Aether caught Sunshine’s eyes and sighed. “We’re going to find her Boss, I promise.”

“Then keep moving! We’re not going to find her standing around arguing.”

Copia’s shoulders sagged then and Sunshine could see how exhausted he was, how worried. She moved closer to Copia, wanting to comfort him in some way but a sharp whistle got her attention. They all looked up the trail to see Rain and Mountain in the distance, both focusing down on the ground.

“Do you think they found her trail?”

Copia didn’t even bother answering Aether, he snapped Brizio’s reins and took off towards them. Sunshine glanced towards Rain again and saw him waving his arms, almost like he wanted them to stay away. Her blood instantly ran cold and she shouted after Copia.

“No! Copia stay here!”

She groaned when he didn’t stop, instead riding after him as fast as she could. He had already reached the two Ghouls and she could see Mountain trying in vain to push him away from where Rain was standing.

It wasn’t until she got there that she realized why.

She could smell it first, the sharp smell of blood. As she got closer she could see that the ground was soaked with it. Copia was taking a few steps forward, his boots sinking into the wet earth. His hands were shaking, clenched into fists as his eyes stayed on the ground. Rain walked up to him, a hat in his hand that Sunshine easily recognized. The same one Princess had been wearing since they left the farmhouse.

It was stained with blood.

Copia only had it in his hands for a moment before it slipped from his fingers and he fell to the ground. Sunshine was rushing over to him in an instant, her hands falling to his shoulders. The smell was stronger now and the sight of how much blood there was made her feel sick. She lowered her head, squeezing Copia’s shoulders when she felt him start to tremble.

“Copia, I-“

“It’s too much.”

“What?” She crouched down next to him, freezing when she saw the tears running down his cheeks. “What’s too much?”

“The blood. She’s lost too much.”

Sunshine stayed silent, not wanting to admit the same out loud. It was too much, too much for anybody to lose. She turned to look behind her when she heard footsteps and she watched as Swiss, Aether and Dew stopped a few feet away, their hats in their hands. When she looked back she noticed Rain walking along the edge of the trail, stopping and kneeling down after a moment. He turned her way, pointing down at the ground before disappearing into the underbrush.

She gave Copia one last squeeze and then stood up, walking over to where he entered, noticing that the grass was flattened down. Her stomach turned thinking of Princess’s body being dragged somewhere and left for the vultures. Tears started to prick at her eyes and she turned back, meeting Copia’s gaze as he watched her from his knees.

“This is my fault.”

“Copia, no.”

“I got her into this mess, I took her away from the life she was supposed to have.”

“A life she didn’t want!” Sunshine moved back to his side and knelt in front of him. “She wanted to be with you. She loved you.”

“And now she’s dead.” The words were practically spit from him and he dropped his hands onto the ground, digging his fingers into the bloody soil. “They killed her. They took her away from me.”

His voice was seething with rage and she found herself thinking back to that day of the attack, of the fire. The only other time she had seen him like this.

She opened her mouth to try and reassure him but the sound of someone rushing through the grass stopped her. Everyone turned to see Rain sprinting onto the trail, his chest heaving and a knife clutched in his hand.

A knife Sunshine recognized.

“It’s not her!” Rain grinned and stumbled over to Copia, grabbing his arms and yanking him to his feet. “It’s not her. She’s alive.”

Your head hurt.

It was hard to keep your eyes open. Every time you opened them a wave of dizziness hit you. There was a constant dull throb, an ache that seemed to echo through your whole body. It hurt, it hurt so much but you were trying to be strong. You couldn’t give up, you refused to lose hope.

You didn’t want the bastards to see you cry.

Their laughter echoed around the small camp. You weren’t sure exactly how many there were. At least three of them had met you on the trail but there could have been more waiting further on. They had rode up right when you had stopped your horse and been about to turn around. Copia had to have been back by then and all you wanted to do was see him again. To have him hold you and tell you everything was going to be ok.

“She awake yet?”

You shivered at the voice nearby. It was the same man that had knocked you out. One moment you had been fighting off a man that had gotten behind you on the horse and the next you had turned to see the butt of a rifle descending upon you. The ground crunched in front of you and you did your best to steady your breathing, trying not to give away that you were awake.

“Leave her, we’ll deal with her in the morning.”

“What if I want to deal with her now?” A shadow fell over your face, blocking the fire. You could smell his awful stench and it made you nearly gag around the cloth between your teeth. “I thought Salty was gonna kill her anyway?”

“Who the fuck knows, he changes his damn mind every day.”

“Wasn’t Goore supposed to nab her before?”

You felt a hand on your head and fought to stop from jerking away.

“They were supposed to, yeah. But The Cardinal kicked his ass. Took out like twenty guys too.”

“The fucking Cardinal.” A glob of moisture hit your cheek and you realized the man had spit on you. “You sweet on him, girl?”

His fingers suddenly tightened in your hair and you cried out. You reached up to try to pull him off but he grabbed the rope around your wrists and slammed them back onto the ground. The man was grinning at you, when you managed to glare at him. The pain was even more intense with how hard he was pulling on your hair.

“Hey! We aren’t supposed to touch her!”

The man holding you was abruptly shoved away and you yelped when he managed one last yank on your hair. Tears were falling down your face, soaking the rag around your mouth. You heard them scuffle close by and you pulled away as far as you could, trying to steer clear of them.

“What does it matter? We can just say she showed up like that! Blame it on The Cardinal.”

“Salty ain’t gonna believe that and you know it. He’s already gonna be pissed about her face.”

“Well no one else was doing anything! I wasn’t gonna drag her back to camp kicking and screaming.” You dared to look over at the men, flinching when you saw their eyes on you. “We should just kill her and be done with it.”

“I fucking told you Salty wants her alive. He made some deal with that asshole at the casino.”

“Fuck. Fine, whatever.” He shoved past the man and walked by, kicking dirt on you as he went. “But if she freaks out again I’m slicing her throat.”

Things quieted down around you as he walked off so you tried to even your breathing. The pain wasn’t getting any better but if you wanted to get out of this you’d need to try to fight through it. You couldn’t help but think of Copia and what he would do when he found your note. Would he believe the things you said? Would he even be coming after you?

“Hey, girl.” The one who seemed to be the leader crouched down in front of you. While you were grateful he had gotten the other man to leave you alone there was no kindness in his eyes. “Do me a favor and stay put, got it?”

You nodded, wincing when your head swam at the motion. He didn’t move for a moment and you were starting to worry he was gonna hurt you like the other man did but he finally stood up. His eyes were cold as they looked down at you and you felt like crying again.

“No one’s gonna save you so you best behave. We’re getting paid a pretty penny to bring you to Saltarian alive.” He smirked then, slipping a knife out of a small sheath at his belt and pointing it down at you. “But we’ll also get paid well even if you’re dead.”

He didn’t wait to see a response, he simply turned and ambled away. The tension seeped out of you then but you stayed as still as possible. It was impossible to stop your tears now and they ran down your face freely, pooling in the dirt beneath you. Silently you begged for help, begged to be rescued and allowed to escape from the fate others had chosen for you.

You begged to see Copia one last time.

“There’s ten of them but only three at the camp with her.”

Copia nodded, taking in everything Mountain and Rain had been relaying to him. The ten men weren’t going to be a problem, Copia knew they could be easily taken care of. It was the fact that you were there as well, vulnerable, that made things difficult.

“Where’s Princess?”

Sunshine had stayed close to him since they had stumbled upon the blood on the ground. Acting like an anchor almost. He appreciated it more than he could say, he appreciated all of his Ghouls right now so much. They had stuck with him for so long and through so much.

They deserved an easier life.

“She’s on the ground by the fire.” Mountain met Copia’s eyes when he glanced up at him. “We didn’t see her move but she’s tied up pretty good.”

“Probably just sleeping.” Sunshine fiddled with one of her knives, slipping it into the sleeve of her coat. “Or unconscious.”

“We should have Dew and Swiss snipe the lookouts while the rest of us get closer. Take ‘em by surprise.”

Copia nodded silently, his thoughts still caught up with the image of you hurt and tied up on the ground. He flinched when a hand brushed his shoulder, turning to meet Sunshine’s eyes.

“They’ll probably leave first thing in the morning, we should hit them right before then.” Sunshine stood up and slung her rifle over her shoulder. “Before they’re ready to go.”

“I don’t want to wait any longer, she could be seriously hurt.”

“If she was seriously hurt they just would have killed her.” Mountain held up his hands when Copia glared at him. “They wouldn’t waste time bringing her body all the way to Saltarian’s. They’d just say you killed her and dumped her body somewhere.”

“It doesn’t matter! She could be hurt and I don’t want her to be alone with them any more than she has to!”

“Damn it Copia, just listen to us! We don’t want her to be in any danger either but the best way to avoid her getting hurt any more than she might already be is to wait till the right moment.”

Copa turned away from Sunshine and Mountain, his shoulders sagging as their words sunk in. They were right, he knew they were right but it was killing him to leave you alone there when you were so close. He sighed and turned back around, ready to accede their point.

“Fine, we’ll wai–”

A sharp yell rang out from the camp and everyone’s eyes whipped in that direction. Copia took a few steps forward, his legs suddenly shaking from fear. In front of them the grass started to shake and Dew flung himself into the small clearing everyone had gathered in.

“She’s running!”

Despite his fear Copia couldn’t help but grin, turning towards the rest of his Ghouls and nodding.

“Then let’s find her first.”

Copia would be so mad at you.

Although technically you weren’t running away from him so you supposed it was okay. You just couldn’t stand to be around those men any longer. It seemed like they were getting more and more irritated at your presence as the night had worn on. The man that seemed to be in charge didn’t have as much control over them as you liked and when he had said he was going to sleep for a few hours you had decided that was your best chance.

Running away was much easier without a dress on and you crashed through the vegetation around the camp. The moon was high enough to help light your way but even then you still had no idea where you were going. No idea the direction you were stumbling in. Not that it really mattered, you just needed to get away. You’d worry about where you were once you were safe.

“Get back here!”

You made the mistake of turning to look behind you, the dark voice startling you. It was the man that had spit on you earlier and you shuddered, trying to move even faster to get away. He wasn’t at the camp when you had run and you had hoped he’d be too far away to catch up to you.

Unfortunately you weren’t that lucky.

He continued to shout after you, promising to make you regret taking off from camp. The fear started to take a hold of you again and you felt tears prick at your eyes. No matter how much you begged your legs to move faster it wasn’t enough. The man was getting closer and closer until finally you felt his hands grab at your arms and yank you back against him.

“Don’t touch me!”

The man grunted when you kicked back at him, your foot connecting with his knee. With an angry growl he tried to wrap an arm around your waist but you slammed your head back against his, grinning when you heard the sickening crunch of his nose. Your glee was short lived and with a curse he shoved you down onto the ground.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He reached for the gun at his belt and pulled it out of its holster, pulling the hammer back and pointing it down at you. “Salty will just have to find another fiancé.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the shot. Pictures of Copia appeared in your mind and you let out a broken sob. You loved him so much and now you’d never get to tell hi–

A loud shot rang out and your entire body flinched, waiting for the inevitable pain of the bullet. When seconds passed with nothing you slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see the man still there glaring at you. Instead you saw him falling to the side, his eyes wide and unseeing. A figure emerged behind him, stepping into the moonlight and you let out a heavy sob when a familiar set of mismatched eyes became visible.

“What did I say about running away?”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh but you were quickly overcome with emotion again. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for his touch. Desperate to be held by him again. Copia quickly obliged, dropping to his knees next to you and gathering you up in his arms. He pressed kisses into your hair as you cried and whispered promise after promise that he’d never let you get hurt again.

The journey back to the casino was mostly quiet.

When you and Copia had gotten back to the camp the sun was starting to rise in the sky. The Ghouls milling around and cleaning things up. Sunshine had been the first to rush over, enveloping you and a long hug that brought more tears to your eyes. When she pulled away she was holding your dagger out to you, the one you had shoved into the first man that had tried to grab you.

“You did what you had to, Princess.”

You nodded, leaning back into the comfort of Copia’s embrace for a moment. The other Ghouls came up one after the other. The biggest surprise for you was Dewdrop, he had thrown his arms around both you and Copia with a wide grin on his face. Copia had to shove him off when he lingered too long but he fell back with a laugh, winking at you before he let Aether take his place.

The calm Ghoul didn’t embrace you, instead he took your hands and started gently unwrapping the rope that was tied tightly around them. You hissed as they came off, your skin red and raw underneath. Copia kept an arm around you as Aether rubbed a salve over the skin, quickly wrapping them in some clean cloth with a promise to clean them again when you got back to the casino.

Your other wounds were given a quick check before Aether nodded at Copia and walked away. Your knuckles were fairly scraped up with a few larger cuts across them. The wound on your scalp would definitely need to be cleaned but thankfully it didn’t hurt as much anymore. The throbbing in your skull had faded to a dull ache as well. You couldn’t wait to get back to the casino and hopefully have a long bath.

You had planned on asking about what had happened with Terzo and what they had done when they’d gotten back to the casino but as soon as you were settled in front of Copia on Brizio you couldn’t keep your eyes open. The exhaustion of everything that had happened since you had left The Ministry caught up with you and you were asleep in seconds. You didn’t even fully wake up until you were riding back into town, the casino large and looming in front of you.

Mountain came over, helping you off Brizio easily. You were turning to wait for Copia but Cumulus was rushing over, Aurora hot on her heels.

“Come on Princess, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Copia dropped down next to you and prodded you over to the Ghoulettes.

“Go on, let them take care of you.” He pulled you close for a moment, not seeming to care about all the eyes on the both of you. “I’ll meet you in my room soon, yeah?”

You nodded and took Cumulus’s hand, letting her pull you towards the Ghoul’s building. Her and Aurora chatted while they led you to a room full of steaming bathtubs, quickly helping you out of your dirty clothes and into one of the tubs. You let their words wash over you, too tired to speak much yourself. In truth your mind was too busy to pay attention anyway. Thinking about what might happen now with Copia’s brothers, with Saltarian. About what might happen with Copia himself.

The sun was completely gone when they were done. Aurora handed you a familiar dark red shirt and you blushed when she grinned at you. They gave you a robe next and led you up the back set of stairs to avoid the common area. It wasn’t as loud as you had expected and you imagined that most everyone was probably tired themselves or working in the casino. The door to Copia’s room was familiar and welcome and you gladly accepted Aurora’s hug when she let you in and left.

You tried not to be disappointed that Copia wasn’t there.

His room was much like it was when you had left it the other night, although it was clear that he had left it in a rush. You made your way to the bed, dropping the robe on the floor and sitting down. There was a soft knock on the door and you quickly grabbed a blanket, getting your bare legs covered right as Copia walked in.

“How are you feeling, Principessa?”

“Good. Better.” You gave him a soft smile as he walked over, your eyes taking him in. He was only in his pants and a button up shirt, his suspenders clinging to his shoulders. “Clean.”

He laughed softly as he knelt at your feet, his eyes roaming over the blanket for a moment before setting a bowl of water and a rag down onto the floor.

“Let’s see those hands, eh?”

Copia was quiet as he cleaned your knuckles.

You stayed quiet too, content to just be close to him. To be someplace safe with him. He had scrubbed his face of the grime from the road and the fight so you were able to see him without his paint. A rare treat that let you see the bags under his eyes, the toll that the life he had been living had taken on him. You let yourself imagine a different life for him, one that had no battles and no worries. A peaceful life in the country maybe, on a farm with room for his Ghouls...

And hopefully room for you too.

He pressed his rag into a deeper cut and you hissed, pulling your hand away to cradle it against your chest.

“Mi dispiace, Principessa. I’m not sure I have the most gentle hands for this.” He dropped the rag into the bowl of water and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on your blanket covered knees. “Let me go get Aether. Or Sunshine? They’ll do a better job than me.”

“No!” You dropped your hands over his, covering his own scraped up skin with your own. “Please, no. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not much of a nurse.”

“I don’t need you to be anything, Copia. I just need you here with me.”

He leaned forward then, moving back onto his knees and dropping his head into your lap. You felt his lips brush against the backs of your hands, ghosting along the cuts and bruises you had gotten. His shoulders shook slightly and you couldn’t help but fall forward yourself, burying your nose in his soft hair.

“I’ll never let you get hurt again.”

Copia leaned back, freeing one of his hands from yours to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed across your skin briefly before he pulled you close and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was one you didn’t think you would ever forget. It was soft and full of promises, promises neither of you had spoken aloud yet but they were there between you regardless. All too quickly he pulled away, a soft smile on his face.

It was your favorite smile of his.

“I’m ok, I’m safe. Thanks to you.” He ducked his head down like he always did in moments like this but you let him. Deciding a little teasing would help ease the heavy emotions between you. “Although I think the Ghouls did most of the work.”

Copia laughed as he took the rag up again, squeezing the excess water out before taking one of your hands once more.

“I don’t know, I think you were doing pretty good on your own.”

You couldn’t help but grin, proud that Copia thought so. Some of his hair fell across his forehead and you reached out with your other hand to brush it back, letting your fingers linger against his skin a little longer than necessary. He looked up from cleaning your hand and caught your eyes. Slowly he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm before looking back down to your hand.

As he worked you let your mind wander, running over every moment you had shared with Copia since you had met. You had to stifle a laugh at that. ‘Met’ wasn’t exactly the best way to describe your initial meeting. The man had kidnapped you after all. The same man you had spent your nights dreaming about. An escape from a world of being used as a bargaining chip in your father’s business deals and a future of being something purely ornamental.

But all that changed with a wink and a grin from the man at your feet.

“I’m pretty sure I broke that one guy’s nose.” Copia chuckled, shaking his head while he muttered something in Italian. “What was that?”

“Nothing important.”

You poked his leg with your foot, the blanket moving out of the way to expose part of your bare leg. Copia stopped cleaning your hand when he saw it, not moving at all except for the flexing of his jaw.

“Tell me.” He still hadn’t looked away from your leg, like his brain was having trouble processing the knowledge that you were naked save for his borrowed shirt. You gave him another poke, this time jamming your toes against him a little harder. “Tell me right now.”

“Have you always been this demanding?”

“Yes. Now tell me what you said.” When he remained silent you attempted to poke him again but he grabbed your foot, easily holding onto it when you tried to pull it away. You shivered when he ran his calloused thumb along the side. “Copia.”

“Diavolessa.”

“In English!”

Copia finally looked away from your leg, slowly running his eyes up your body until he was looking right into yours. His soft smile had now been replaced by that insufferable grin of his and despite how much it annoyed you it was hard not to match it with one of your own.

“Per favore.”

“Per fav–oh! Copia, no!”

Your words ended in a shriek as he dug his fingers into the bottom of your foot. You fell back on your elbows and tried to kick away from him, desperate to escape the tickling sensation. With a deep laugh he finally relented and let go. Your back hit the wall beside his bed as you scrambled to get away, the blanket completely falling from your legs and getting pushed to the side with the movement.

He stood up then, his eyes dark as they stayed fixed on you. Where your boldness came from you weren’t sure but you spread your legs slowly before tucking them under you and rising to your knees. Copia reached up and shrugged out of his suspenders, his fingers quickly going to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“Come here, she-devil.”

“Per favore.”

His smile was brilliant and it had you moving closer despite him not saying anything. When you were close enough he quickly reached out and grabbed you around your waist, yanking your body against his. Your hands landed on his chest to keep yourself steady, your fingers tangling in the dark hair that covered him. He dipped his head down but you quickly moved yours back, raising your eyebrow when he let out a heavy sigh.

“Please, Principessa.”

You both moved at the same time, your mouths meeting in a desperate kiss. One of his hands dropped to cover your ass and when his fingers flexed against your flesh you moaned into his mouth. The noise had him breaking away with a moan of his own but he stayed close, sliding both of his hands down your back until they were gripping the back of your thighs.

“Copia, wha-”

He yanked your legs out from under you and when your back hit his bed again you laughed, nearly giddy with happiness. Copia finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it over his head, immediately unbuckling his belt and then working on the buttons of his pants. In the next moment he was naked in front of you, standing proudly in the moonlight but with fidgeting fingers at his sides.

Copia was breathtaking. It didn’t matter that you had never seen anyone else like this, Copia was the only one you needed to see this way. His shoulders and arms were strong, well muscled from years of work. Your eyes moved down his chest, lingering on his tattoo for a moment before running down to his soft belly and sides. His thick thighs flexed as he climbed onto the bed, slowly moving between your legs and then reaching out to grip the bottom of his shirt you wore.

When he hesitated you took over and pulled the deep red shirt you loved to steal over your head. Copia looked you over much like you had done to him, his eyes lingering on the bruises you had received. He was hesitating again, like he was afraid to move, afraid to touch you. It was strange not seeing him confident and cocky. You reached out for his hands, tangling your fingers together and pulling them to cover your heart.

“Principessa…”

“I am here, we are here. Safe and together.” You lifted your foot and ran it up and down his thigh. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you everything.” He pulled a hand away and slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you across the bed so your head was laying on his pillows. “Anything you want.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing against his sideburn. Copia lowered himself down to settle against you, holding himself up by his elbows. The moonlight caught his eyes and like always the white one gave that almost otherworldly glow. You trailed your fingers across his cheek and down to his mouth, running them along his full bottom lip before dropping it down to your chest.

“I just want you.”

It was like a dam broke between you, Copia swiftly lowered his head to yours and took your mouth in a rough kiss. Oh you would never tire of this, of the way he seemed to use his entire body to kiss you. He buried a hand in your hair and tilted your head so he could deepen it. You opened your mouth under his and his tongue immediately tangled with yours.

At the same time his hips started grinding down against you, his hard cock brushing across your lower belly. You could feel him leaking already as the tip moved across your skin, trailing the proof of how turned on he was. Of how turned on you were making him. That knowledge had you pressing harder back against him, hooking a leg around the back of his leg to try to get as close as possible.

Copia pulled away, groaning when you ground up towards him again. He began nipping at your lips, causing little zings of pleasure to shoot through you. When you tried to capture his lips again he smiled and pulled away just out of reach.

“Patience, Principessa.” He began to drop kisses down your chin and along your jawline. His teeth nipped at your earlobe, sucking it between his lips to soothe the hurt with his tongue before letting go. “I’ve been waiting for this for quite some time.”

“Since wh-oh, since when?”

He didn’t answer at first, content to keep kissing you. His lips trailed down your neck to your shoulders before moving to your collar bones. You hissed when he nipped there too but he quickly ran his tongue across the mark, smirking when he looked up to see you watching him.

“Probably since that first day when you busted my nose.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand to try to stifle your laughter. It didn’t last long though, Copia continued his path down your chest until his mouth was hovering over a breast. His hot breath had you trembling with anticipation, waiting for him to continue his worship of your body. It seemed like forever before he peeked his tongue out and flicked it across your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

“Copia, don’t tease. I just…”

His mouth dropped down, pulling the tip of your breast into his mouth and sucking. Your body bucked off the bed and you buried your hands in his hair to keep him there. The hot, wet suction of his mouth felt so good and it only amplified when he nipped at your nipple. You mewled when he pulled off with a pop, your hands trying to keep him close to your chest.

“In my church, Principessa, this is one way we worship.” He leaned down and pulled your nipple between his lips, hollowing his cheeks and sucking roughly. Copia slid his free hand up your chest and took hold of your other breast, massaging it between his calloused fingers for a moment before he pulled his mouth away again. “You are my altar.”

Your body was trembling in earnest now as he moved lower, his mouth and tongue leaving a trail across your belly button and then stopping right above your cunt. He pressed his hands against the insides of your thighs, pushing them apart so you were open before him. You watched Copia lower his head and take a deep breath right over you before he groaned deep in his chest.

He lowered his head even more until his nose brushed against your clit, teasing around it a few times before sliding his tongue out and across the small nub. Your hips bucked up immediately, desperate for more contact. Copia must have been just as desperate as you because he quickly went at it again, tonguing your clit over and over again until it was red and swollen.

You were a whimpering mess already, your thighs quivering beneath his hands as his mouth worshiped you. He pulled your clit between his lips, suckling it like he had done your nipple. The sensation was racing you towards your orgasm and you buried a hand in his hair to try to keep him there. You wanted to come so badly, you wanted to hit that peak under his mouth. Copia groaned around your clit when your nails dug into his scalp and after one last hard suck you finally got what you needed, your orgasm tearing through you and making you cry out.

As you laid there panting Copia was still making noises against your cunt, his mouth now lower and his tongue licking long stripes between your lips. Your hand fell out of his hair and you instead covered one of his hands on your thighs. You barely had the strength to do anything but watch him, watch as your wetness covered his nose and mouth. His mustache was soaked and shining in the moonlight as well and it tickled your sensitive skin as he continued to mouth at you.

When he tongued across your trembling entrance you finally moved, your hips jumping up to meet his mouth involuntarily. Copia chuckled darkly, his eyes finally leaving your wet, pink flesh to catch your gaze. He didn’t look away as he pressed his tongue against it, his eyes only drifting closed when he was able to push it inside of you and lap at the inside of your walls.

“Ah! Copia!”

He kept his mouth on you but you could feel his growl echo into you. Your cries of his name spurred him on and he lapped roughly at you, closing his lips around your entrance and sucking, like he was desperate for every drop of your previous release. You didn’t even notice one of his hands leaving your thigh before his mouth pulled away and two fingers prodded at your entrance. They easily slipped inside and he went to work thrusting them in and out of you, scissoring his fingers off and on to stretch you.

To get you ready for him.

Your blood was so loud in your ears you didn’t even register Copia was speaking at first. His voice was low as he continued to pump his fingers.

“...mine, Principessa and I will give you everything I can. Anything in my power.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you watched him, as you listened to him. You were close to another orgasm and you were absolutely desperate for it, your hips moving to meet his thrusting fingers. Copia pulled his hand off your thigh and gripped the base of his cock, letting out an almost pained groan as he squeezed himself. The sight of him nearly losing control of himself was all it took for you to hit your peak again and you came with a shuddering cry, your inner walls contracting around his fingers.

You weren’t sure how long you drifted in that zone of pleasure. The brush of lips across your cheeks finally brought you back to yourself and when you opened your eyes Copia was right there, gazing down at you with such a look of fondness you nearly had to close your eyes again. He must have wiped his mouth off but his mustache was still in a state and you reached up with a shaking hand to help get it under control, smiling when he rolled his eyes.

“Anything in your power?”

“Sì.”

His cock brushed against you, still hard and leaking. You spread your legs to try to open yourself up for him again. Needing to feel him against you. Needing to feel him in you.

“Only you, Copia. That’s all.” He smiled, ducking his head down for a moment to collect himself. When he raised it up again his smile was wide and you couldn’t help but match it while you brushed his hair off his forehead again. “At least for right now.”

He dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, his body quaking with laughter. You took the opportunity to wrap a leg around his waist and press yourself against his cock. His laughter turned into a deep groan and he quickly rose up to kiss you roughly. The taste of yourself on his lips had you whimpering, chasing the taste with your tongue. You angled your hips so his cock brushed against your cunt and he broke away quickly with a growl.

“Diavolessa.”

You couldn’t find the strength to respond, you had become so desperate for him. Desperate for him to enter you and make you his. You continued to rock your hips against him, wanting him so badly you felt delirious with it. When he began to move back you tightened your leg, worried he was going to move away. Copia whispered something soft in Italian towards you before dropping another kiss to your lips.

He stayed close, but moved away enough to settle more comfortably between your legs. You watched with bated breath as he stroked his cock, his eyes briefly falling shut. Feeling bold you reached out and covered his hand with yours, helping him pleasure himself. He called you a she-devil again under his breath but you just smiled and continued to touch him. His cock was hot and throbbing, twitching almost desperately towards you.

“Are you ready, Principessa?”

You nodded desperately, your mouth falling open when he gently removed your hand from his cock and began to press himself against your entrance. Your body welcomed him, opening around the head of his cock and stretching as he pushed inside. You wrapped your arms around his back and clung to him. Worried that if you let go he would disappear and that this would be a dream. A sob left you and Copia immediately pulled back so he could see your face.

“I’m sorry, I just…I thought I wouldn’t see you again and now…”

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

Copia started to pull out, his cock dragging along your walls slowly for just a moment before he pushed back in. He continued to move like that until he was finally fully inside of you, his hips flush against yours. You kept your arms tight around him, holding him close so his face was hovering over yours.

The moonlight still highlighted his face and your eyes traced his freckles as your body adjusted to him being inside of you. The silver in his hair shone just like his white eye and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling up at him. You had to tell him, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I love you.”

You weren’t sure what to expect, you weren’t even sure he felt the same but it didn’t matter. You needed him to know. Copia let out a breath, lowering his head to kiss you briefly before pulling up with a smile on his face.

“E ti amo.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, over and over along your lips and cheeks and nose.

“Copia?”

“I love you, Principessa. More than I can say and more than I have any right to.” He moved away then, holding himself up by his hands as he stared down at you. Slowly he began to pull his cock out, stopping when only the tip was inside of you. “You’re mine. Forever.”

He pushed back in, slow and steady. You pressed your head back against the pillow as your body took him, the stretch delicious. Copia stayed flush against you, watching your face like he was waiting for something. You let out a breathless laugh as you wrapped both your legs around his waist and kept him close.

“Forever.”

Go to Chapter 13: And You Can Hold Me

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #the cardinal's bride #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #copia fanfic #reader insert

155 notes · View notes