#cardinal primo smut

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 2 - Caning

Cardinal Primo x GN!Reader

Cardinal Primo is always far too hard on himself, but sometimes he needs a break. Sometimes he needs you to be hard on him, too.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 4.5k.

Reading Time: 18 min.

Warnings: blood, caning, dom/sub dynamic, flagellation, impact play, masturbation, praise kink, self-flagellation,

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Recommended listening: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

The first sound to greet you as you stepped into the dimly lit chapel was a series of grunts, echoing off the cold stone walls and reverberating deep within your ears. The heavy breaths that followed were punctuated by sharp intakes, each noise tinged with an unmistakable pain that clawed at your heart.

Curiosity propelled you forward, your head peeking around the corner. The sight that met your gaze was both haunting and mesmerising. Cardinal Primo knelt on the unforgiving stone floor, his torso bare and glistening with sweat. His left hand propped him up, trembling under the weight of his self-imposed penance. Blood trickled from open welts marring his back, testament to the punishment inflicted by the cane clutched tightly in his right hand—a stark symbol of self-flagellation.

Sweat beaded on his brow, cascading down his face in rivulets that blurred the lines of his paints, giving the impression of black tears streaking down his skin. Each mark on his back spoke volumes of his struggle; you could easily believe he had shed real tears at some point, the rawness of his wounds suggesting a depth of suffering that went beyond the physical.

Primo had always been relentlessly hard on himself, a man who believed he must bear the weight of his mistakes alone. The Ministry, a construct of mercy rather than judgment, had never mandated such punishments. Yet, remnants of a past steeped in the shadows of the False God lingered, twisting the beliefs of those who still sought redemption through pain. For Primo, these rituals had become a cruel necessity, a ritual of remorse that broke your heart each time you bore witness.

He straightened his posture, exhaling a shaky breath as he swung the cane with renewed vigour, allowing it to strike his body with brutal force. Another grunt escaped him, the impact driving him forward into that same three-pointed stance, a position of both agony and resolve. It was a strange paradox—the desperate sounds he made stirred something within you, igniting a heat that spread through your core, awakening desires you never knew existed. The sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, mingled with the crimson droplets of blood, created a visceral tableau that left you breathless and yearning.

You couldn’t help but sigh, the sound cutting through the air like a whisper of acknowledgment. His gaze snapped to you, wide and startled. “I… didn’t hear you… come in,” he panted, his breaths labored, each word a testament to the toll of his actions.

“I’m not surprised,” you replied, trying to keep your tone lighthearted, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. You stepped closer and took a seat in the pew just behind him, granting yourself a front-row seat to his torment. “With all that noise you were making, I can hardly believe I’m the only one who dared to step inside to witness this.”

As you settled into the pew, the air grew heavy with tension, each breath you took charged with an unspoken electricity. Cardinal Primo steadied himself, the grip on his cane tightening as he drew a deep breath, a moment of silence hanging between you like a fragile thread.

Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, he swung the cane again, the sound of wood connecting with skin echoing through the chapel. The sharp crack resonated like a thunderclap, followed by a low grunt that escaped his lips, the force of the impact causing him to falter forward once more. The sight was visceral, his body wracked with the effort, and your heart raced at the rawness of it all.

Each strike seemed to peel back layers of his stoicism, revealing a deeper pain that resonated within you. You watched as the blood welled up from the new wound, trickling down his back in crimson rivulets, contrasting starkly against his pale skin. The visceral act stirred something primal within you, a mix of empathy and an inexplicable desire that made your breath hitch.

He straightened again, sweat glistening on his brow, and for a moment, your eyes locked. In that fleeting connection, you sensed the weight of his struggles, the burden he bore not just for himself but for the ideals he represented. You wanted to reach out, to pull him from this cycle of self-destruction, but the intensity of the moment held you captive.

Primo inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling like a storm-tossed sea. It was then you realized that each swing of the cane wasn’t merely a punishment; it was a desperate plea for absolution, a yearning for a release that seemed perpetually out of reach. And yet, watching him, you felt a strange awakening, an urge to understand the depths of his suffering, to explore the fine line between pain and redemption that he walked so precariously.

“Why do you do this?” you finally dared to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as though breaking the silence would shatter the fragile spell that had ensnared you both.

Primo had spent the morning in the council chambers of the Ministry, where heated debates raged over the direction the faith should take. He had been tasked with mediating discussions between factions that were increasingly at odds, each side clinging fiercely to their interpretations of doctrine. The weight of the responsibility bore heavily on him, a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon his shoulders.

That day, in the midst of the arguments, a slip of his tongue had ignited a fierce backlash. He had misquoted a sacred text, an error that had caused an uproar among the devout. Whispers of doubt spread like wildfire, and he felt the gaze of his peers turn cold, their judgment piercing through him. The feeling of failure washed over him, drowning out the voices of support that tried to remind him of his worth.

The aftermath of the meeting lingered in his mind like a dark cloud. He replayed the moment over and over, consumed by shame. To him, the only way to atone for his perceived failure was to seek redemption through pain. It was a twisted form of penance, one he believed would appease the higher powers he sought to serve, including the vengeful shadows of his own fears and doubts.

In his mind, he thought of Satan as a force of truth, a harsh but necessary guide. To stand before such a power without scars seemed unfathomable. So, in a desperate attempt to cleanse himself of the perceived sin of incompetence, he turned to self-flagellation, believing that suffering would somehow restore his honor and reaffirm his commitment to the faith.

As you watched him now, each strike of the cane was both a physical act and a spiritual one—a ritual designed to wash away the stain of his mistake and prove his worthiness, even if it meant courting the darkness he feared. In that moment, you understood that his desire for redemption was not just for the sake of the Ministry but for his own fractured spirit, striving to reclaim a sense of purpose in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.

You nodded in understanding as he recounted the events that had pushed him to this desperate act of penance. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you felt the tension crackle between you. The next swing of the cane sliced through the silence, the sharp crack reverberating against the stone walls, followed by a grunt that echoed with both pain and resolve.

Your thighs tightened.

You seized the moment to speak, your voice steady yet soft, cutting through the haze of his suffering. “The Dark Lord is more merciful than this,” you said, letting your words sink in. “Suffering is for the followers of the light, the children of the False God. And, He’d want you to feel the pleasure in the pain, at least.”

Primo paused, the cane hanging limply at his side, his breath hitching as he absorbed your words. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, battling with the internal struggle that raged within him. The idea seemed foreign, almost blasphemous, yet a part of him hesitated, yearning for a glimmer of relief from the relentless cycle of pain he had subjected himself to.

“Pleasure?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with doubt. “How can I indulge in anything but punishment when I’ve failed?”

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes locking onto his, willing him to see the truth in your perspective. “Redemption doesn’t solely lie in pain, Primo. It’s in the balance, in embracing both light and dark. The Dark Lord doesn’t seek to break you; He seeks to mold you. Embracing pleasure doesn’t diminish your devotion—it enhances it, allowing you to rise stronger from your trials.”

As the words left your lips, you noticed a subtle shift in his posture. The rigidness began to melt away, if only slightly, as the weight of his self-imposed burden wavered under the promise of something more. In that moment, you saw the flicker of hope ignite in his eyes, a yearning to reclaim not just his honour, but the joy of living, even amidst the shadows.

Almost quietly, and with a small smile, he responded, “I should have known you’d come for your pound of flesh.” His gaze lingered on you, a mixture of challenge and vulnerability in his eyes. The statement hung in the air, charged with a tension that sent a shiver down your spine.

You met his gaze, a slow smile playing at the corners of your lips. “Perhaps I have,” you replied, your voice low and sultry, deliberately teasing the edge of his discomfort. You stood and walked over to him, hooking your index finger below his chin. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out. He looked somehow innocent in all of this. “Perhaps I’ve been sent here to do His bidding.”

“It would be a great pleasure to be punished by you.”

He placed the cane in both of his hands and held it up to you, like a knight offering a sword to his queen. The cane trembled slightly in his hands as he offered it to you, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of reverence and desire. His lips parted as though he were about to speak, but no words came—only the quiet, charged silence between you. Trust radiated from him, unspoken yet undeniable, but instead of taking the cane, you chose a different path.

Slowly, deliberately, you sank to your knees before him, the movement commanding his attention. His breath hitched as he watched, every inch of you now level with the vulnerability he tried so hard to suppress. The tension between you was electric, a palpable pulse of need and anticipation. You let your hand slide behind his neck, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips sending a jolt through you both.

Without breaking eye contact, you pulled him toward you, and the kiss that followed was anything but gentle. It was desperate, hungry, and raw—a collision of longing and pent-up emotion that neither of you could hold back any longer. His lips crashed against yours, warm and insistent, as if he were trying to lose himself in the intensity of the moment, seeking solace in the heat of your touch.

A soft groan escaped him as your mouths moved together, your fingers tangling in his damp hair. His hands, once so steady, gripped your arms with a fervor that matched the wild beat of his heart. You could feel the tension in his body, every muscle taut as though he were on the verge of breaking. His kiss was filled with everything he had been holding back—months, perhaps years, of isolation, of denying himself any comfort beyond the sting of his cane.

You deepened the kiss, the passion between you intensifying as you pressed closer. His breath came in ragged gasps between kisses, each one more desperate than the last, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid that the moment would slip through his fingers if he didn’t cling to it. To you.

Your bodies moved in sync, lips parting, tongues intertwining, with the Cardinal fully submitting to you with nary a fight left in him. The taste of him—sweat, salt, and something deeper, more primal—ignited a fire in you, your desire burning hotter with every passing second. He kissed you like you were his salvation, his escape from the torment he inflicted upon himself.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, lips swollen, your foreheads pressed together as the intensity of what had just passed settled between you. His chest rose and fell heavily, and his eyes, dark with need, searched yours, pleading for something more than what his punishment could offer. “Let me make you feel good,” you panted, resting your forehead against his. “Let me help you.”

“Y-yes,” Primo stammered. The feelings in his chest were threatening to overwhelm him if he didn’t keep himself in check.

You locked your lips to his again, allowing the kiss to return to the same heat it was before. As your tongue entered his mouth, you travelled your hand down from his neck, across the sweaty expanse of his hairy chest and soft stomach, and onto his clothed crotch, earning a gasp from his lips as you made contact. Gently, you began to stroke over him, his limp cock beginning to stand to attention at your touch. You were like a magician with the way you touched him, playing with the right spots to make it feel so fucking good so early on. He was wrapped around your little finger, his body answered only your call. Tonight, you were going to help him in more ways than one.

Flagellation had never felt like this before, neither had pleasure, if Primo was being honest. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but the dull humming of pain on his back mixed with your hand on his core had given him a whole new religious experience. Satan’s wrath at his back, His mercy at his front - and it felt incredible. He never wanted it to stop.

You broke the kiss once more, making him whine in response. “Do you still want me to cane you?”

“Sathanas - please. Please.”

Primo’s begging was delicious. You let your fingers trail along the waistband of his trousers, teasing the skin beneath, but you didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet. “You’ll get your punishment,” you promised, your voice dark with promise. “But tonight, Primo, it’s going to feel like a blessing.”

His breath caught, his body trembling at the weight of your words, and you could see it in his eyes—he was ready to be yours, to give in to the dark, twisted pleasure that only you could provide.

Slowly, you trailed your hand down from his waistband, brushing your fingers over the growing hardness between his legs. He gasped, his hips bucking slightly into your touch, but you kept your movements slow and deliberate, keeping him teetering on the edge of pleasure without giving him the release he so desperately craved.

“Tell me, Primo,” you murmured, your fingers ghosting over his cock in featherlight strokes. “Do you want more pain? Or more pleasure?” You kissed the edge of his jaw as you spoke, your breath hot against his skin, every word a temptation he couldn’t resist.

His eyes fluttered shut as a low moan escaped him, the mix of pain from his earlier flagellation and the pleasure of your touch driving him to the brink. “Both,” he finally breathed, his voice trembling. “I need both.”

You smiled against his skin, satisfied with his answer. “Good,” you whispered, before pulling back slightly, your eyes locking onto his. “Then let’s begin.”

You reached for the cane, still gripped in his trembling hands, and pried it from his grasp, your fingers brushing his as you took it from him. His eyes followed your movements, wide and filled with anticipation, as you stood before him, the wooden cane held firmly in your hand.

“Remove your trousers,” you commanded, looking down at him with hooded eyes. Primo obliged immediately, scrambling off the floor to obey you as quickly as possible. He was fully hard now, cock red and aching, and pleading to be touched once more. The sight of it made your mouth water.

“Touch yourself,” you continued, “slowly.”

Primo spat in his hand and wrapped it around his head, softy and slowly twisting as he began to fuck himself in front of you. He was needy. Desperate. Wanting.

You raised the cane slightly and brought it down in a swift, sharp strike against his thigh—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him gasp. The combination of the pain and his touch made his entire body tremble, the contrast pushing him into a deeper submission.

His moan was low, guttural, and you could tell that he was already starting to lose himself in the mix of pleasure and pain. “Do you like that?” you asked, your voice teasing, as you leaned down to brush your lips against his.

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice hoarse and breathless. “More… please…”

You smiled against his mouth and delivered another, harder strike, this time to his other thigh. His reaction was immediate, his back arching as he let out a strangled cry, the cane in your hand and the desire in your touch working together to pull him deeper into submission.

“Good boy,” you purred, pressing your palm harder against his now throbbing cock as a reward. “You’re doing so well.”

His entire body seemed to melt at your words, his mind surrendering completely to your control. The pain, the pleasure—it all blurred together for him now, each sensation heightened by the other, until he was nothing but a trembling mess beneath you.

“Where do you want the pain now, Primo?”

“B-back. My back.”

You grinned at his trembling voice, watching as he begged for more, his body a quivering mass of need and submission. His cock was slick with his own spit, his hand slowly twisting and stroking, but the desperation in his eyes told you he was aching for something more—something only you could give him.

With a teasing hum, you moved behind him, the cane still firmly gripped in your hand. His back was already marked with the remnants of his self-inflicted punishment, the red welts standing out against his pale skin, but you knew he craved your touch—the combination of pain and pleasure only you could deliver.

“You want the pain on your back, do you?” you purred, running the tip of the cane lightly over his shoulders. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his body quivering with anticipation. “Are you sure, Primo? I can make it hurt so good, but you have to ask for it.”

“Please,” he gasped, his voice ragged. “P-please, punish me.”

The sound of him begging for it, so willing, so eager, made your heart race. You raised the cane, hesitating for just a moment to let him feel the anticipation, before bringing it down sharply across his shoulders. His body jolted, a guttural moan escaping his lips as the pain radiated through him, but you could tell by the way he arched into the blow that he wanted—no, needed—more.

Without giving him a chance to recover, you brought the cane down again, striking a bit harder this time, the sound of the impact echoing in the chapel. His back arched once more, his hand faltering for just a moment on his cock as the pain overwhelmed him.

“You take it so well,” you cooed, stepping closer to press your body against his. You let your free hand trail over his heated skin, feeling the way his muscles quivered beneath your fingertips. “Do you want more, Primo?”

“Yes,” he groaned, his voice shaking. “More… please…”

You delivered another strike, the force sending a tremor through his entire body. His back was now a canvas of red, each mark a testament to his submission, and yet he still begged for more.

“Keep touching yourself,” you ordered, your voice firm but seductive. “Don’t stop. Go faster.”

He obeyed, his hand moving over his cock in quick, desperate strokes as you continued to bring the cane down on his back, each blow making him cry out in a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. His moans grew louder, more frantic, and you could see that he was close, his body trembling on the edge of release.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “You can come, Primo, but only when I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice strained. “Please… let me come…”

You smiled wickedly, your hand ghosting over the welts on his back before delivering one final, hard strike. His entire body jolted forward, hips now doing most of the work as continued to fuck his hand as hard as he needed, a choked cry escaping him when he tried to hold back, his cock throbbing in his hand.

“Not yet,” you teased, your voice dripping with control. “Not until I say.”

He whimpered beneath you, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, but he obeyed, desperate for your approval, desperate for the release only you could grant.

“You were doing this for the Dark Lord’s forgiveness, weren’t you, Cardinal?” You taunted from behind as you landed another painful blow. You watched as the blood bloomed from the fresh wound.

“Y-yes!”

“Keep fucking that hand, Cardinal, but beg for His forgiveness. Beg Satan and He might grand you pleasure.”

Primo gasped, the sting of the blow igniting a fire within him. “Satan,” he cried out, his voice trembling with desperation. “I—I beg for Your f-forgiveness! I’ve sinned - fuck! And I seek Your mercy. Please… gra-ant me pleasure in my suffering!”

Each word spilled from his lips with a fervour that only deepened his submission, the mix of pain and longing pushing him further into the depths of his desire. “I’ll do any… anything for Your grace,” he continued, his hand moving faster against his cock. “Mmmm… fucking Hell! Please, please, please, let me f-feel Your love through this pain!”

His voice grew more frantic with each plea, the raw vulnerability of his words sending shivers through him. He was completely lost, teetering on the edge, surrendering himself to the dark power he both feared and craved.

You felt a tingling in your body, all over it, in fact. You could feel a breath shoot down your spine from your ear, as if someone had just whispered into it. The smell of sulfur filled your nostrils and left you convinced. You leaned down again, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “He has granted you his mercy. come for us, Primo,” you whispered, your voice a soft command, then a final blow to his back.

With a guttural moan, Primo finally let go, his body convulsing with the intensity of his orgasm as he spilled onto the stone floor, pooling just in front of his knees, his back arching beneath the weight of the pleasure and pain you had given him. He gasped for air, his entire body shaking as he rode the wave of his release, his mind and body completely yours.

You smiled down at him, watching as he collapsed to the floor, spent and trembling, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice soothing now as you knelt beside him, running your fingers gently over his sweat-slicked hair. “You did so well.”

Primo’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he looked at you with something close to reverence. He had given himself over to you completely, and you had taken him to the edge and back again. Now, he was yours—body and soul.

As you helped Primo to his feet, he leaned against you, his body still trembling from the intensity of what had just transpired. You helped him back into his trousers - not before using the pant leg to clean up his mess, which earned you a weakened chuckle from him. The chapel, with its cold stone walls, faded from your mind as you guided him outside, the night air wrapping around you both like a comforting embrace, swirling around his wounds and making him hiss and tense in response.

Once you reached your place, you settled him gently onto the soft bed, the contrast of the plush sheets against his still-sensitized skin making him shiver. You took a moment to admire him—his body marked with red welts, a testament to his surrender and bravery. “You did so well tonight, Cardinal,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. “You were incredible.”

Primo looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability, and you could see how much your praise meant to him. You moved to gather some supplies—a damp cloth, antiseptic, and a soothing ointment—to care for his wounds. As you returned, you knelt beside the bed, taking a moment to let your fingers gently trace the marks on his back.

“Every scar tells a story,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “And tonight, you showed just how strong you are. I’m proud of you for getting His forgiveness, but I don’t want you to do this again, please. Not as a punishment. I’ll draw blood from you if you want but nothing justifies this as a genuine punishment.”

He sighed softly, the tension in his body beginning to ease as you cleaned the wounds with gentle, careful movements. Each brush of your fingers against his skin elicited soft gasps from him, and you could see the way he surrendered to your touch, allowing you to take care of him.

“Such a good boy,” you praised again, applying the ointment with tenderness.

Primo’s cheeks flushed at your words, and you couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to glow under your attention, his vulnerabilities transforming into strengths. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” you added, leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Inside and out.”

As you finished tending to his wounds, you took a moment to let your hands linger on his skin, relishing the connection between you. “You deserve to feel safe, to be cared for,” you whispered, your gaze steady on his. “And I’ll always be here to take care of you, Primo.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of your words sinking in. “Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a soft whisper filled with emotion. “For everything.”

You smiled at him, feeling a swell of warmth in your chest. “No need to thank me. It’s my pleasure to care for you. You’ve given me so much already, and I want to give you the same in return.”

As you settled in beside him, the atmosphere shifted—filled with tenderness and a deep sense of understanding. In that moment, you knew you would protect him, nurture him, and help him explore the delicate balance between pain and pleasure, both in and out of the shadows.

Prev./Next

[honey-tongued-devil]

Sinners' tango

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It wasn't just meant to be a small collection of Papa x Sister of Sin!Reader, but also to have a little interpretation key. So, as usual, I invite you to comment/like to show your support!

I really like the idea that the Ministry of Ghosts is a matriarchal pyramid, where even though Papa seems like the most important figure, Sister Imperator is the one who holds the reins of everything. Furthermore, I like that this isn't seen as a threat to anyone's masculinity within the clergy.

This series had a bit of this in mind. The woman isn't shown to allow more or less everyone to insert/identify themselves, yet her presence is so strong that even without ever seeing her face, you should be able to perceive her as the dominant figure in the composition. Sometimes she simply doesn't bother to look at those who are looking at the images, as if leaving the dirty work to someone else, other times she plays with her men, who allow themselves to be moved docilely.

There's also a certain sensuality, the idea of intimacy between the sister and the pope, and the various popes looking into the camera is like an awareness of their position. It's a submissive, almost devoted but still proud. Except for Copia, but not because he's not devoted to her, but because he, more than anyone, couldn't take his eyes off her.

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Aftercare Headcanons:

How each Papa would take care of you 💖

NSFW themes below - MDNI

Primo ♥️

Checks in with you and asks if you need anything

Recounts the previous events with you to see what parts you liked most and if there was anything you didn’t enjoy as much

Rubs homemade salves all over your body, made from the plants in his garden

Has your favorite snacks already laid out for you to eat immediately after. It’s usually the healthy version of whatever you like, like fruit leather instead of gummy bears

If you feel okay, you take a stroll around the gardens with him; his arm is around you, and he lets you lean on him while you discuss how your relationship is going

Meditates with you before going to sleep

Secondo 💚

Carries you to the bathroom immediately after to take care of any cuts or bruises and necessary cleanup

Gives you a full body massage while praising you for taking him so well

Makes you an elaborate dinner that he prepped earlier in the day

Asks if there is anything he could have done better for you, or what you want more of

Turns on whatever show you’re currently watching together and comforts you during any distressing scenes

Holds you close that night while you sleep together

Terzo 💜

Dotes on you and cleans you up immediately. You try to get up and do it yourself, but he insists on taking care of you…he just needs a few minutes to catch his breath

Hugs and kisses you all over and runs his hands along your body comfortingly

Draws you a bubble bath and joins you, using his fancy bath bombs and skincare

Praises you nonstop, especially if degradation was part of the main event. Mentions how he can’t believe he landed such a knockout 🤩

Has your favorite foods and snacks delivered

Asks how you’re doing and if he can get you anything, which he happily obliges to any request (including whatever you liked during sex that he can repeat)

Plans a cute date for the next day and brings you flowers and your favorite snack while you’re at work or just hanging out

Copia 🩵

Showers with you after, carefully washing you and mindful of your sore bits (:

Brushes your hair for you, kissing your neck and telling you how pretty/handsome you are

Cuddles with you and watches one of your favorite comfort shows or movies with you

Makes you a simple but delicious pasta dinner and gives you your favorite snacks while you watch him cook and says “Careful not to ruin your appetite, tesoro!”

Big on words of affirmation, telling you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Brings you your favorite blanket and plushies for bedtime and tucks you in

Promises sweet, slow sex next time 🥺

Nihil 🧡

Practically nonexistent but he does make sure you’re okay and have everything you need

Water is first on his list. He remembers how much or how little ice you like

Pats you on the back or the top of the head and says, “That was good,” or “You were great,” as he heads to the bathroom

Asks if you want to go through the drive thru for food afterwards

Gives you a thumbs up too, probably

Thank you GhostNocturnal on Twitter for some of the ideas!

[da-rulah]

request: how the papas would react to reader crying during or after sex? Also I love the way you write! 🖤🖤

I've had two people ask for this now, so let's get down to business... Each scenario is different, crying for different reasons, some during some after. Some are sad, some are horny af, so be warned. I may have flown too close to the sun with this one... TW/ Orgasm denial & over stimulation, some BDSM with paddle spanking, FWB to lovers, sadness, angst and obviously…. Crying during sex. 18+ MINORS DNI!

Primo

With his age, comes an understanding of the human body that you can only get with experience.

This is why with so much care and attention, Primo has you on the edge of climax so quickly, denying you and end and then bringing you right back to the edge.

He's not cruel about it though, he's very sweet, nurturing almost.

"You're doing so well, toppolino..."

He asks you to count how many times he’s ruined your orgasm… it nearly kills you.

"I know you can handle it, fiorellina. What number is it now?"

When he finally lets you tip over that precipice, your entire body shakes and convulses under him. It rips through you like dropping a match to gasoline.

You're whimpering for him as you come back down, and without knowing, the tears have started. They're soaking your cheeks, dripping to the pillow beneath your head.

Primo looks shocked, and quickly his aged fingers are wiping at your cheeks.

"Mi dispiace, my darling... are you alright? Did I go to far?"

He hadn't, not at all. But your words failed you, and all you could do was sob into a kiss you initiated, cupping his cheeks to reassure him.

Secondo

He thought tonight was the night to introduce his newest paddle to you. You happily accepted his request, the shiny black leather looking mighty intriguing...

He rolled a pair of dice, calculating a random number. 11, is what they landed on...

11 spanks with his paddle. Each one felt harder than the last, testing your limits.

By spank no. 7, your eyes were tearing up. Still, you refused to use your safe word.

By spank no. 9, the tears were flowing freely.

You managed all 11 without your safe word, but when Secondo saw the streaks of tears down your face, his hardened dom exterior crumbled just a little. He'd made you cry once before, and that had been a safe word occasion. So he was panicked...

"Dolcezza, are you alright? Too much?"

He rocked you in his arms, careful not to touch your bruising behind.

"I'm okay, Papa... I'm okay..."

He kissed away the tears, mumbling praises to you.

"Need you, Papa... Still need you, please..."

He never could resist your begging.

Terzo

Your relationship with Terzo was strictly sexual. You knew that. You agreed to that.

But boy, did it hurt...

You wanted him emotionally, needed a closeness you were resigned to never get. But you continued your relationship despite this, grateful for what you could get. Grateful you could pretend...

With your ankles by your head, Terzo railed into you, rolling his hips with an expertise he had from your countless nights together. He knew was you liked.

"My sweet sorella, so good for me, no?"

You bit your lip, struggling with his wording choice. His. You wished...

As the thoughts invaded your mind, your need for release beckoned and yet, you couldn't reach it...

Terzo climaxed before you, roared expletives and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes shut as he caught his breath.

When he heard the first sob, his eyes shot open.

"Sorella, what...? What's the matter? Did I hurt you?"

You could only shake your head, but he had hurt you. Just not physically, and not with intention.

He searched your face for answers, trying desperately to hold eye contact with you that you kept avoiding.

"Per favore, look at me..." he spoke so softly, you could hardly ignore. "What is it?"

You poured your heart out to him, you couldn't hide it anymore. Any longer, and this relationship would break you...

Terzo sighed, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you to his bare chest.

"I adore you, tesoro... I fear we are both idioti," he chuckled, running his hand over his face, smearing his already smudged paints more.

He asked you to stay with him that night. You never slept in your own bed again.

Copia

It was such a stupid fight, one that you feared you couldn’t come back from.

You’d thrown his schedule in his face, told him it wasn’t fair that he didn’t give you any time at all now he was Papa…

When you came home, you had ignored him, making dinner and still leaving him a plate, but eating in a separate room without so much as a glance his way.

“You think I don’t give you enough attention, toppolino?” “I feel like I’m losing you, Copia… I’m so scared…”

His eyes flickered with rage when you’d begun to cry. Not at you - at himself. He’s made you feel this way?

Copia strode towards you and enveloped you in a kiss that would have made Lucifer blush.

He went into panic mode, overprotective mode. He had to show you right then and there how much he wanted to be with you, would never even dream of leaving you behind.

“You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere…”

His thrusts are wild and erratic yet somehow calculated just enough to hit the nerve endings inside you that mattered most.

You could see the desperation in his face as he fucked you, needing you to see how much he adores you and how he would bring the fires of hell up to the surface if you only asked him to…

He angrily shoved away the tears that escaped his own eyes, feeling pathetic for crying when it was you who was hurt.

“I’M. STAYING. RIGHT. HERE.” Each word punctuated with sharp, hard and frantic thrusts into you.

When you cum together, he collapses onto you. Both of you are in tears.

“I-I swear it, cara mio… I don’t want to lose you, I will do better…” he sobs into your neck

“I’m here, Copia. I’m so sorry… I’m right here.”

[revelisms]

New WIP has me deep in the emotional whumpzone (per usual)—so even more Ghost headcanons: Angst Edition. Because why not ❤️‍🩹

CW: Family dysfunction, parentification, negative self-image, anger issues, relationship issues, grief. Also some heartwarming-ish moments? Sorta kinda? (;-;)b

Primo

Faced the harshest transition within the church as the first successor to the new Order, having to meet both the old clergy's expectations as well as the standards Nihil, as part of his bargaining, had been pressured to achieve.

Also saw first-hand much of the darker underbelly of the church (e.g., murders caused by the ghouls, corruption in the clergy, etc.), which he tried to shield the younger ones from witnessing. It's not all champagne and caviar in these halls—especially at the top.

Has had few consistent lovers in his life, but has loved them all deeply. Getting beneath his surface-level affections can be challenging, though. He has a kind, nurturing presence with most everyone, especially those he likes to have around—but as a partner, he can be protective to the point of patronizing. Very cautious, at times condescending, and ultimately fearful of ever losing someone again. Loves like a dragon guarding a horde of gold, and can get just as ugly for it.

Didn't want to have to step into the role of essentially father and mother for the boys, but he felt he had to. There's a hardness to him, for that, and a sense of young adulthood that he's lost; he feels ancient in a way that's difficult to explain, and always has. There's very little of him that feels youthful anymore.

His love for gardening runs deeper than most take it for. He's always been interested in healing magick and herbal remedies, and it's an older field of study he gravitated to in his earlier days. He's been on the cusp of too many tragedies to turn a blind eye to it, now, and so this is his way of doing something. He sees himself as too old, too frail, and frankly too booksmart to do so, otherwise; it's an underlying resentment of his, after watching too many ritual acts go wrong.

Having the Sight of clairsentience (aka: seeing into the minds of living things) has made him a bit of a chronic skeptic. He has lost his trust in most things; the few that he keeps to are the realms of possibility and self-determination: that what he sees in one moment does not have to be Truth, overall. But it hurts, being cursed to know what others truly think and would wish to do, even if they won't voice it. He tries to stay kind, despite that.

Secondo

He was always an angry child, and wrestles worse with his frustrations as an adult. His spite and his rage have fueled him; in many ways, Wrath has been the one constant of his life. But it has broken countless relationships in the process, and created a reputation that most siblings fear.

He's a very bitter, armored man—and, as a result, can be a bit of an ass—but he's aware of it. (Unlike someone else. Grumble grumble.)

Despite their theoretical closeness in age (I HC a bigger gap here), and quite a few shared emotional traits, he and Terzo couldn't be more polar opposite. Since Secondo was unwantedly looped into Primo's surrogate parental role once he got older, he took the brunt of this with Terzo, who was hell to manage. He has a lot of regrets over this, and puts silent blame on himself (in fairness, more than he should) for Terzo not getting the support or affection he should have when he was younger. Their relationship has always been strained from this.

Daddy issues out the wazoo—and it's translated into most relationships (work or otherwise) he's had with authority figures, since. He's a beast to deal with, when it comes to the clergy; most members of the cloth will toss him straight to Nihil before they have to even think of handling him (which is disastrous, in itself; he's inherited much of Sister's traits when it comes to bickering Nihil into place, and their All-Father can't stand it...but c'est la vie).

In short: Hell forbid you share a table with these two. Copia and Nihil's mess is tame, comparatively.

Genuinely one big tender-hearted teddy bear beneath it all, but few are given the privilege to see it. He's a very romantic man stuck in a complacent chain of disposability, and he's made his peace with that. He's certainly not an easy person to love; being in a relationship with him is a constant yo-yo of moods that can explode at the drop of a pen—but with the right balance, with someone who can ground him, he could rival the poets of old with his lavishness. Roses and wine and sweets for days. (And kisses. Satan, don't forget those.)

Having the Sight of retrospection (aka: seeing the the past) has been both the root of his fascinations with history and, ironically, his complete disgust of those who claim to study it (...which he is, but anyway). It's also led to some hard wounds due to Primo trying to safeguard him from the darker nature of the church as a child vs. the realities he was forced to bear witness to once gifted the Sight. It broke a lot of his security in the doctrines, and his trust in Primo. As a result, he views their eldest, above all, as a liar and has learned to take the guidance he shares with a grain of salt.

Terzo

Was a very rambunctious, escapist-driven child, and it has led into him being a flippant, snide, and at times callously individualistic adult. However, this battles with his desire to be valued by others—most of all, to help someone feel better in themselves. He's incredibly kind and soothing, when he wants to be.

The mix of priorities can be puzzling. As much as he can be selfish in one moment, he would roll out of bed at 2am to conduct a blessing for an insomnia-riddled sibling of sin, without question (which is...other WIP shh). This can make it hard to know where one stands with him, and whether any special treatment they've seemingly been given is all that special, after all.

Can be extremely petty for the spite of it, often through comments that cut to the bone, but almost as frequently in performances he knows will pull eyes. Nihil and Sister are often the joint instigators of this, and it tends to trickle down, unfairly, into his treatment of Copia—though he knows it shouldn't. He's not proud of this, and attempts to curb it when he can, but in many ways his temper is a mirror to Secondo's own; once something sets him off, he can become fiercely cold and hurtful. Getting on his bad side is a vile place to be.

Has, for lack of a better term, a tightly controlled persona: almost impeccably funny, sly, and suave, especially once he's ascended into the papacy (and been put on a tightwire of clerical demands). Few have seen the quiet, withdrawn, fidgety side of him. Few, he doubts, would want to.

At his most fundamental, he is heavily driven by a need to feel seen, accepted and loved—but he's repeatedly sabotaged it once it's been given. The siblings dubbed him a "loose kite" well before his Cardinal days: someone without a tether bound to land wherever (and with whomever) he wants. Most are aware that he's an egregious flirt, and little else, and have learned to never take his affections too seriously—and, to an extent, that's exactly what he wants. On the other hand, he's shot himself in the foot with this: a self-fulfilled prophecy of nothing ever panning out (and one he fears ever panning out at all, as much as he wants it).

Having the Sight of premonition (aka: seeing the future) has been dual-edged. He's seen the beauty of his own future, and of select others, countless paths over—and, just as wickedly, their demise. Countess potentials, countless lovers, countless beings, countless deaths. It has never been a source of peace, for him; he can only know with certainty what may occur once he has taken the first step onto a bounded path. Starting the route to his Papacy was his only confirmation that he was doomed to fail—but, for years, he knew little else.

The biggest splint in his Path, always, was Omega. Saints and demons, it was always Omega.

Copia

You could fill a jar with the things this man would nitpick about himself—and still, he would nitpick more—but he is nothing if not a source of reassurance for any who have known him: both in his bumbling Cardinal days, and in the slow-sewn confidence he's found in his senior roles. One of the sweetest, if sweetly awkward, souls one could meet—but give him any passing compliment, and he'll scrape it under his heel.

For all he craves true praise, hungers for it, he is so hesitant to believe it. He has never felt good enough in his own skin. Not for Primo's success, not for Secondo's intelligence, not for Terzo's confidence. Certainly not for the clergy's standards. And Sister—Mother—well. He's never quite known how to untangle the dreams she poured into him from his own.

Was effectively the black sheep of the family for much of his youth, despite receiving more affection from Sister—which, in retrospect, only added to the resentments. He had always been seen as an other, most harshly by Terzo, who felt that his ability to even have a relationship with his own mother was squashed by Copia devouring her attentions.

Losing them all made it easier, in some ways. It had to be done. (Hell, he misses them. He misses them so much.)

Loving him can be an overwhelming experience. As a partner, he goes overboard on the regular (often, humorously, with disastrous results). It's challenging sometimes for him to realize he doesn't need to perform, in this; that he can just be. He hadn't taken the best cues from Terzo, in that—but who else could he have looked up to, but Terzo: who was beautiful, and desired, and bright as a star?

There's a cruel irony in that. Terzo had never quite opened up to his little brother—but if he would have, Copia would have only known how much they had in common: how much of their black-sheeped image-loathed performance-pillared suffering they'd shared. (But the past is the past, now. Copia can't think on that, too long.)

Having a belatedly repaired relationship with Nihil and Sister has been complicated for him. There's an unspoken attempt at correction, for their (seemingly) final and "true" heir—attempting to be a better father, a better mother, to be a family. He'd never quite had that, in all those years before. A part of him loathes that only now he's being given it.

The Sight of clairvoyance (aka: seeing the Bridge between realms) is strange sort of blessing, in this. They're all with him, always. Through life and death, through all of it. And perhaps that's what he'd always been meant to be—a homestead for those lost souls to gather; to live free again, if for a moment. He finds comfort in that, much as he can.

[copias-girl]

my writing <3

🍓 Howdy! <3 I don’t write anymore but the masterlist of all of my fics is under the cut! 🍓

let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

ask to be on my non-con taglist here!

•°:*𖤐*:°•

Pamper Your Papa (smut): Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV 𖤐 Papa IV x reader {COMPLETE}

Cardinal in the Snow 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

You, Your Mother, the Cardinal, and the Christmas Lights 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI Chapter VII, Chapter VIII, Chapter IX, Chapter X / ? 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

To Catch a Cardinal Universe bonus fics:

The Sign

Tipsy reader flirting with Copia

𖤐 TCAC moodboard

Lenten Sacrifice (smut) 𖤐 Antichrist Popia x Catholic reader

Colazione, Un Film, e Dormita 𖤐 Copia x reader

Aftercare headcanons (nsfw) 𖤐 All the Papas x reader

Praising Copia headcanons (nsfw) 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

Cardiophilia Blurb 𖤐 Copia x reader

Coming Out as Demi to Copia! 𖤐 Papa IV x reader

Copia being ticklish blurb (a bit spicy) 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

𖤐 my art 𖤐

Cardinal Copia

Valentine’s Day Papa

TCAC Copia Doodle

[bupia]

THE MINISTRY KINKTOBER ON AO3

Now you can read The Ministry Kinktober on AO3!

Click here and enjoy the collection!

[historian-crown]

HERE WE GO WITH MY FIRST SMUT EVER. It is a CopiaxFemReader fic with mainly smut, but also fluff. Please give me some feedback if you liked it...also if you did not.

18+ content, minors do not interact!

Thank you and have fun.

(Yes the meme is going to make sense after you read it)

[calliedion-dungeon]

My Fanfic List

Hi, I'm Callie, I realized that maybe instead of just dropping my thingys I might as well say something in the way. So, I'm just a human woman who's imagination has been assaulted by the Ghost/Repugnant train and I just will let it consume my life and soul.

I'm relatively new in Tumblr and english is not my first language, so bare with me with my mispellings, since I don't have many people to show my works and help me correct them. Thank you if you manage to read up to this point.

Main account @calitmediondell so don't be scared if I respond from there.

⛧☾༺ AO3 Links ༻☽⛧

Primo - Papa Emeritus I

❦Say it with flowers (One Shot) 2.6k words- Young Primo/GN Reader, Fluff.

Terzo and Secondo

𖤐Cardinal Brothers (Coming some time in the future) Story of an adventure of the cardinals Terzo and Secondo in late 80's/stranded in a little conservative christian town/ heavely based on "To Wong Foo" movie 1995.

Cardinal Copia

𖤐Serious Killer (20.3k words) Dracopia fic - Epic friendship- Dracopia/Cardinal Copia/GN-Reader, SFW

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / ? (indefinite hiatus)

𖤐Dark Lipstick (2.2k words) Cardinal Copia/reader Fem/V - +18 MDNI. Sex Toys, Flirting, Edging

𖤐 Sweet Lip Balm (Second part of Dark Lipstick) (4k words) +18 MDNI. Sex Toys

𖤐 Hot Cherry Bomb (Third part of Dark Lipstick) (3.8k words) +18 MDNI Smut, Blood Kink, semi-public Sex

Mary Goore

𖤐Stiff Enough (Finished) (11k words) NSFW, Smut! MDNI, Mary Goore/fem OC

𖤐Chistmas Carol of the Goor-y Present (Finished) (13k words) (Second part of "Stiff Enough") NSFW, Smut! MDNI, Mary Goore/fem OC

🜏The Beastly Ones are in Command (4.3k words) (One Shot) Mary Goore - Poltergeist,Implied/References Child Abuse. Rated Mature Please mind the tags

☥ Madness, Pain and Shadows (Finished) Mary Goore as The Crow - Blood Violence, Child Death, Mental Health Issues, Rated Mature Please mind the tags

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

𖤓Sore Kisses - [Long Haired Blonde] Mary Goore/Fem Reader NSFW, Smut! MDNI

Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / ?

Fanart (?)

Ghost Beanie / Mary Goore's Poltergeist /

Mary Goore Sad Hours Guitar Solo / Topo Gigio as Cardinal Copia

[her-satanic-wiles]

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst naked.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to this nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons! 💋🫂

Day 13 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**RATED PG-13, borderline NSFW**

My headcanons of making out and cuddling with the Papas

Primo

Talks very sweetly; lots of cute but old-fashioned pet names

Lets you rest your head on his chest

Doesn’t use tongue unless you initiate

Big spoon, holds you gently

Serene for the most part, but abruptly interrupted by his coughing fits ):

Always falls asleep before you, usually mid-kiss or mid-cuddle

Secondo

Holds your head very firmly in his hands while kissing you

Slips in tongue

Plants kisses on your neck

Takes control but wants to be on the bottom while cuddling so you’re laying on his chest otherwise he’s big spoon

Holds you protectively, rubs your back soothingly and runs his hands through your hair

Gives massages

Terzo

Sticks his tongue down your throat and goes straight to your pants but complies when you ask just for kisses and cuddles

Presses his body against yours

You can always feel his erection through his pants, purposefully on his part

Kisses like he hasn’t seen you in years

His phone keeps going off

He doesn’t care if he’s big or little spoon

Leaves hickeys and bite marks

Cardinal Copia

Nervous and sweaty

His mustache tickles your face

You can always feel his erection through his pants, accidentally on his part

Usually one of his rats will crawl on you if you stay still too long while cuddling

Wraps all his limbs around you while snuggling as if he’s afraid you’ll fall off the bed or escape

Likes to be little spoon

Popia

Starts with a sweet little peck on your cheek

Usually ends with his hands around your waist and feeling you up, but it’s a slow build up to that

Holds your chin in his hand and kisses your nose

Tells you what his every next move is so you know what to expect

Tells you about his day/asks you about yours

Adjusts his position if he senses you are uncomfy or smushed

Nihil (for shits and giggles)

Sneezes and sharts himself

You run away because it smells

[da-rulah]

Welcome to my masterlist!

All fics are tagged by main characters involved and rated either sfw or nsfw 18+.

Under 18’s please respect these ratings.

Trigger warnings are tagged in the posts.

Full Length Fics

Confessional. [NSFW 18+] As a sister of sin, it was your duty to confess at least once a month, to have your sins praised by a higher up member of the clergy. But you only ever chose Thursday nights, when you knew he was on duty. And tonight, you were working up the courage to confess your darkest sin - the dreams you had been having..

  > Read on Tumblr (3 Parts)   > Archive of Our Own

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work… Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Copia in the *bold* chapter highlighted below.

> Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Part 6 for Copia) > Archive of Our Own

Heads Will Roll. [SFW] Copia is waiting on the new Papa V, anxiously awaiting their arrival. He's not sure what he expected, but... It certainly wasn't him. > Read on Tumblr > Read on AO3

Headcanons/Drabbles

Copia teases reader with dirty talk... [NSFW 18+]

Copia stress relief [SFW]

A plus-sized reader's first time with Copia [NSFW 18+]

Copia's rats interrupting your night together... [NSFW 18+]

Copia receives a love letter from his crush... [SFW]

Surprising Papa on tour... [NSFW 18+]

Copia comforts you after a traumatic nightmare... [SFW]

Reader is suffering with the memories of past trauma... [SFW]

Reader finds out they're unexpectedly pregnant... [SFW]

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Reader tells Copia about their childhood trauma... [SFW]

Copia's s/o loves writing, and Copia loves them. [SFW]

Reader falls asleep in Copia's Latin class... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Reader gets harassed when out with Copia... [NSFW 18+]

Copia is bullied by a Brother of Sin. You stand up for him... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets jealous when your Christian ex-boyfriend shows up... [NSFW 18+]

Copia gets possessive when a rumour about him spreads while he's on tour... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You'd never even heard the Dark One's voice like your Siblings... But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Creatures of Habit. [NSFW 18+] Every week was the same; the same Sunday routine you'd had for as long as you could remember, lost in the pages of books that sported characters of women like yourself, finding that perfect balance between acquired and self love. But soon come the winter months, and along with it, a strange new face that became a part of your routine. A man, whose self-worth reflected that of your own, forced into seclusion, hiding from the humiliation of forced retirement. You find yourself enraptured by the mysterious man, and somehow, allowing him to become a part of your very own weekly ritual... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

In Cold Blood. [NSFW 18+] Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with. After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home. Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary? > Read on Tumblr > Read on AO3

Headcanons/Drabbles

Terzo HCs (in the style of Confessional)

Full Length Fics

Rubenesque. [NSFW 18+] Retirement had its perks. For Secondo, one of those was being able to spend much more time on the things he enjoyed. And there were only two things he truly enjoyed these days; art, and you. Although if you asked him, he’d insist that they were one and the same. So how would he react when he learns that your peers are mocking your sinfully gorgeous body, and you're struggling to love yourself? > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Come Home to Me. [NSFW 18+] No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Learn the Ropes. [NSFW 18+] Secondo likes to be in charge. He likes to be in control. But you'd always wondered what he might do if one day, you decided to flip the script, and take charge for him... > Read on Tumblr > Archive of Our Own

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work…

Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Secondo in the *bold* chapter highlighted below. > Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Part 5 for Secondo) > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Secondo cuddles after a hard day... [SFW]

Secondo gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

Bishop Primo decides to pick some red roses... [SFW]

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

The Papa's Kinks [NSFW 18+]

Papas holding their newborn for the first time... [SFW]

Papas reacting you reader crying during/after sex [NSFW 18+]

The Papas and their technology skills... [NSFW 18+]

The Papas and the Halloween costumes their s/o makes them wear [SFW]

Reader asks Papa to keep his robes on... [NSFW 18+]

Papa's comforting a reader on their period [SFW]

Papa's catch reader sneaking out to go to a party... [Hints at NSFW 18+]

Papa's comfort reader who's losing her faith... [Hints at NSFW 18+ in the overall post]

How the Papa's dominate you [NSFW 18+]

Papa's and their thick-thighs S/O [NSFW 18+]

The Papa's make their S/O squirt for the first time... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

Rituale Septem. [NSFW 18+] Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You’d never even heard the Dark One’s voice like your Siblings… But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work…

Terzo centric fic, but smut pairings include Ghouls in the *bold* chapters highlighted below. > Read on Tumblr (8 Parts, Parts 3 & 7 for Ghouls) > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Swiss wanted to try Papa's batwings... [SFW]

The Ghouls catch a cold... [SFW]

The Ghouls go to an escape room... [SFW]

Ghouls holding their newborn for the first time... [SFW]

The Ghouls and their technology skills... [NSFW 18+]

The Ghouls reactions to an easily flustered reader... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

The Mayor's Daughter. [NSFW 18+] Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off. And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter…

> Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 > Archive of Our Own

Headcanons/Drabbles

Sexting with Mary [NSFW 18+]

Jealous Mary headcanons [NSFW 18+]

BDSM Activities with Mary [NSFW 18+]

[theratboyking]

Hello :)

My name is Max, and welcome to my blog. This is one of my side blogs where I post most of my current hyperfixation, Ghost! Feel free to stop by and chat or send in a request, and I will try my best to get it out as fast as possible. I hope you guys enjoy and stay for a while :)

Requests: Open

AO3 link

Masterlist:

Primo:

Loving You, Loving Me Sincerely Yours

Secondo:

Forever Yours (Vampire Secondo, Smut, Hurt/Comfort) Nocturnal Me (Part Two to Forever Yours) Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I (Vampire Secondo, Angel Reader, Angst, a tiny bit of fluff) Loving You, Loving Me Sincerely Yours

Terzo:

Run Rabbit (Hurt/Comfort) She's Gonna Save Me (TBD) Loving You, Loving Me Sincerely Yours The Dial Tone Is All I Have (TBD)

Copia:

Sunshine of my lifetime (Fluff) Mine (Smut, Pure Smut) They Did The Mash (TBD) Loving You, Loving Me Caught Red Handed (TBD) Sincerely Yours

Copia & Terzo:

Softly into the night (on hold) So Long We Become the Flowers

[copias-girl]

You, Your Mother, the Cardinal, and the Christmas Lights

Cardinal Copia x reader

In which you’re dealing with your toxic mother and although Cardinal Copia isn’t riding right behind you on a pale white horse, he’s still always there for you <3

This is the song that plays when the happy part of the story starts!

•♥︎♥︎♥︎•

You sighed deeply as you strolled around the large Christmas lights display in the park. It was only a few days before Christmas; and lots of people milled about, chatting, laughing, taking pictures, and admiring all the twinkling lights. The whole park was covered in lights and decorations, every tree lit up in pretty colours. It was cold, cold enough to see your breath every time you exhaled; and fluffy snowflakes were falling lightly, adding to the magic of everything.

But it wasn’t magical for you, in fact it was far from it. Because you were with your mother, and she just wouldn’t stop berating you. This was what she did, she constantly took all of her frustrations out on you. And although you knew this, although you told yourself over and over again that it wasn’t your fault, it still hurt like hell. It wore you down, boring a hole into you where your heart should be. It made your head spin, your jaw clench, feeling like nothing more than a sad puddle on the ground.

You looked around at all the people in the park, big smiles on their faces as they enjoyed spending time with one another. Why weren’t you allowed the same privilege of just being happy?

You tried to zone out and focus your thoughts on Copia- he was your boyfriend of sorts. You had really fallen for each other since you started volunteering at his church, but you hadn’t officially declared yourselves as dating yet. Copia was the Cardinal at that huge Satanic ministry on the hill that loomed over your town. He was 50, which was way older than you. A whole lifetime older than you. You didn’t expect your mother to be very happy about you dating someone who was easily old enough to be your dad, let alone some Satanic clergyman, so you both decided to keep it unofficial for now. All this time, your mother never knew you were riding your bike up to the ministry to visit your dear Cardinal. It was only a matter of time before you joined his church, and then you could be together all the time.

You desperately wished he was here now to save you, to whisk you away and work his magic on your tense nerves and broken heart. You had invited him to be your date to look at the lights, but he had apologetically declined because he needed to finish a big stack of Latin translations and paperwork. And besides, Christmas wasn’t really his thing.

“See all these people here? They’re all with their family and friends and you’re not. You’re all alone in the world because nobody likes you! You’re worthless! And now I’m stuck with you because you have no one else.” Your mother droned on and on and on. You let out a tired groan, wishing you had at least brought earmuffs to take the edge of her grating voice. Your eyes were empty, void of all emotion as you silently took the abuse. If you talked back, it would only make things worse.

Tears threatened to spill onto your cold cheeks, feeling lonelier than ever. The winter iciness was also starting to get to you, as you didn’t even have a hot drink to fight off the chill.

Wait- is that? No, no, it couldn’t be. Your mind is probably just playing tricks on you.

But then a few people moved and you spotted him in the crowd. Were you daydreaming too hard, were you imagining things? You blinked a few times, wiping the tears from your eyes to see more clearly. Sure enough, he was really there. Your sweet Cardinal, looking absolutely dashing in his tight black suit and a warmer dress coat on top, with a long scarf bundled around his neck that somehow added an irresistible pitifulness to his look. Fuck, he was so adorable. The man was completely and utterly out of his element, but that only caused your heart to swell for him more. He looked all around for you, gloved hands clasped meekly in from of himself, awkwardly apologizing as he nearly bumped into a few people. You grinned even wider when you noticed he was holding his cane, the one with the serpent head handle.

“It’s never a moment’s peace with you! Because who else do you have besides me? No one!” Your mother scowled.

“That’s not true.” You finally spoke up, a big smile finding its way onto your face as you stared at the love of your life.

“What do you mean? Who else wants to be around you??” She scoffed bitterly.

“My boyfriend.” You replied, butterflies fluttering in your stomach just from finally saying it out loud.

“What do you mean?! You don’t have a-“

Without another word, you ran up to Copia, weaving through groups of people. “Cardinal!” You shouted, getting his attention.

He grinned brightly upon seeing you rushing up to him, pleasantly surprised when you practically tackled him into a tight hug and pulled him in for a kiss right there in front of all those people.

The Cardinal kissed you back with absolute fervour, his lips warm against your cold ones, although you felt warmer already from just being in his arms.

Some groups of people watched and gawked, wondering why such a pretty young thing like you would be in a passionate lip lock with such an older man. But you couldn’t care less, you wanted everyone to witness the feelings you had for your Cardinal. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

Copia brushed some snow off your hair as you did the same for him, pulling away slightly to take each other in. Your noses, cheeks, and lips were flushed from the chilly weather, and you both silently admired the way each other looked like this. Your eyes glittered with crystalline tears, joyful ones now that your love was here.

“Cardinal how did you… how did you know where I was? This park is huge.” You asked, cupping his cold face in your hands.

“I just walked around looking for the most beautiful girl here. And now I’ve got her, si?” He replied, a charming smile on his devastatingly handsome face as he pinched your cheek playfully. He then brought you in for another kiss, the whole world falling away as your lips met, causing your heart to thrum loudly in your chest.

“Come, Dolcezza, you are cold. Mi fratelli are here as well, and we have a nice hot chocolate for you, si?” The man smiled, putting a hand on the small of your back and leading you away. You took one last glance at your confused mother, before nuzzling into the Cardinal’s side and strolling away with him.

Soon, you began giggling as you heard the sound of Terzo’s voice.

“Don’t you know how to take a selfie, old man?! It’s what all the giovanetti are doing nowadays!” Terzo’s voice rung out among the crowd.

“Pff, ‘old man’… You’re only two months younger than me, coglione! Plus, I’m the one holding all the goddamn cioccolati caldi!” Secondo barked back at his brother.

You spotted them just in time to catch Primo rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

“Ciao, tutti!” You called out, and immediately you were surrounded by the Papas as they pushed Copia aside to hug you.

“Oh! Ciao, Tesoro mio!” Terzo flashed you with that charming smile, pulling you into his arms and smothering you with multiple kisses on your cheeks under the guise of ‘trying to warm you up.’ You giggled at him fawning all over you, looking cute while he wore a warm winter coat, fuzzy earmuffs, a scarf, and his regular white gloves. “Poveretta, tu sei così fredda!” He exclaimed, taking his scarf off and looping it around your neck far too many times until you had to pull it away from covering your mouth.

Secondo was wearing his parka, the one he sometimes wore while playing Uno, and he shoved his brother aside, handing the hot chocolates he was holding to Terzo. His typical scowl softened when he looked at you, and he pulled you into a warm hug and pressed a kiss your forehead.

And finally Primo, who was looking sharp in a tailored wool coat, black turtleneck, and plaid scarf. He hugged you gently and kissed your temple, making you smile endearingly at all the love these men so freely gave you. They were all in their paints, and everyone around you was staring in complete confusion, but it only amused you as you pulled them all closer to you.

“Here, amore, bevi questo!” Terzo cheerfully handed you a hot chocolate and one for Copia.

“Thank you… All of you. You always make me feel so special.” You sighed, finally feeling warm and happy as you sipped the hot drink. They even got you extra marshmallows, just how you liked it.

“We love spending time with you, Dolcezza.”Copia smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Si, cara, it is always our pleasure to be with you.” Primo nodded.

“A pleasure indeed.” Your Cardinal whispered into your ear, kissing your neck and causing your cheeks to flush even more.

The five of you walked around the park, taking pictures together and making good memories that you would never forget, screaming in laughter as Terzo chased you through one of the light tunnels.

When you had all finished your hot chocolates, you tugged on Copia’s sleeve, catching his attention.

“Si, Topolina?”

“How about we go back to the ministry and warm up, hm?” You whispered into his ear.

He stopped walking then, letting his brothers go on a little ways without you.

“Oh, amore… There is nothing I would want more. I… I love you.” He sighed into you, pressing his pointy nose into your cheek, his moustache tickling the corner of your lips.

“I love you too.. Oh, Copia, I love you. I love you, I love you!” Your heart fluttered as you whispered those words over and over again, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing your sweet Cardinal over and over again, his beautifully odd eyes closing as a soft moan escaped him.

“Are you two coming?” Secondo called back, and the two of you looked over with grins on your faces.

“Not yet, but we will be soon..” Copia murmured to you with a wink, causing you to gasp at him with wide eyes before you giggled, strolling hand in gloved hand to join the three Papas and head back to the ministry.

And you couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. Who knew you’d be spending Christmas at the Church of Satan? But with the Papas, with your darling Cardinal, you truly felt that it was where you belonged.

end <3

Happy holidays everyone! 🖤

Tagging: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh

[brokebonewritings]

Fixing you

Mountain x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warning: 18+, Language, Smut, Fluff

Summary: After a long afternoon of helping Mountain in the garden, he returns the favor by helping you shower until he smells another scent on you.

Word Count: 2.1K

Navigation || Masterlist

A/N: Dedicated to Rachel :)

You walk slowly back through the garden from the lake where you had just been with Swiss. He had begged you relentlessly to show him how to skip rocks and who were you to deny him. For being such a good teacher, he rewarded you by fucking you against the boulder along the lake’s shore.

As you emerge from the quiet, lush foliage in the golden dusk embrace, your heartbeat still echoes in your ears like the rhythm of a plucked harp string. The afterglow of his potent touch leaves you reeling, yet the warm, satisfied sensation fills you with an exhilarating grace.

In the distance you see a large figure walking alongside an elderly Primo. As the figure turns to look at you, you blush madly. Mountain, the earth ghoul, waves to you with one hand as the other holds a large bouquet of flowers. You wave back haphazardly just as Primo turns to see you. He stretches his hand out to you, beckoning you. Changing course, you walk over and happily take his arm.

“Cara, what were you doing out there by yourself.” The old man asks.

“Oh Primo, I was teaching Swiss how to skip rocks.” You respond, and notice Mountain stiffen at the mention of the other ghoul.

"Ah," Primo mutters, glancing at the imposing figure beside him. "Surely you know that it is not safe for you to be alone with that one, no matter how skilled you are with rocks."

Mountain grumbled something under his breath, but remained mostly silent as Primo put his arm around you and guided you back to the greenhouse.

“I have been thinking, Fiore, why don’t you help Mountain out here for the rest of the day?” Primo says as he grabs his bag from the small counter.

“But what about the duties that the Cardinal gave me?” You worry.

“Don’t worry about my silly little fratello. I will tell him our Earth ghoul requested some extra help.” He turns to the tall ghoul. “Take care of her, Mountain.” He requests before leaving the building.

You both stand in silence for a moment before he sets down the bouquet of flowers and walks to you, pressing himself against your chest.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks before brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You shake your head. “No, not that much anyways.”

You hear him growl lowly before turning away. He stalked away from you, leaving a void in your chest where his warmth had previously been. As he walks back to the garden, you follow closely behind him. He stops at an empty plot and he looks up to you.

“We need to plant some vegetables here for the winter.” He announces, voice deep. “I’ll have you watch for now.” 

You are left to watch him work, your curiosity piqued. He moves quickly, glancing back at you occasionally, and soon the soil around the plants is freshly turned and he begins planting seeds with practiced skill.

As you observe him, you realize that there is much more to this ghoul than meets the eye. Though he appears imposing and reserved, there is a gentleness in his movements that you find appealing.

For the remainder of the day, you work alongside Mountain, tending the garden and helping each other as needed. You find a strange comfort in his presence that you have never experienced with anyone else in the ministry.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden light over the greenhouse, you and Mountain stood side by side surveying the fruits of your labor. The once empty plot was now filled with neatly planted rows of winter vegetables, a testament to your combined efforts.

You reached out to brush a speck of dirt off his arm, he turned to look at you with eyes that seemed to hold a universe of emotions. Without a word, he took your hand in his, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet beauty of nature and the gentle presence of Mountain, you felt a connection deeper than anything you had ever known. It was as if fate had brought you together

“You’re filthy” He says in a whisper.

“Says the ghoul covered in soil”

“Fair point” He ponders. “Would you shower with me?”

You blush at his unexpected question but nod eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of being so close to him again. As you both make your way inside the air between you crackles with tension, each step bringing you closer to a moment of intimacy that feels both thrilling and uncertain.

Once inside, you both make your way to the Ghoul den and into Mountain’s room. It was tidy, not like Swiss or Aether’s room. You sit on his arm chair as he goes to prepare the shower. After a few minutes, he calls for you. 

The bathroom is warm and inviting, steam already rising from the running water as Mountain adjusts the temperature. You watch as he undresses, revealing the powerful muscles that lie beneath his gray earth-stained skin.

As you undress and step into the shower beside him, the hot water cascades over your bodies, mingling with the dirt and grime that clings to your skin. Mountain reaches for a bar of soap, his touch surprisingly gentle as he begins to lather it against your back.

The sensation of his hands moving over your skin sends a thrill through you, awakening desires you never knew existed. His proximity is intoxicating, each brush of his body against yours igniting a flame you’ve never felt before. 

You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of his touch and the warmth of the water surrounding you. Mountain's hands move with a purposeful tenderness, washing away not just the physical dirt but also the emotional weight that had settled within you.

As the soap bubbles slip down your skin, you turn to face him, meeting his intense gaze. There is a raw vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding that tugs at something deep inside you.

Without a word, you reach out and run your fingers over the ridges of his spine, feeling the tension melt away under your touch. The air between you crackles with unspoken longing, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

Slowly, he pulls you towards him, your hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the falling water. Your lips meet in a kiss that feels like homecoming, your bodies melding together as if they had been made for this moment.

You explore each other's bodies with reverence and desire. The soap slips away, replaced by the slick intimacy of your bodies pressed together, each touch igniting a fire within you that seems to burn brighter with every passing moment.

As the kiss deepens, he trails kisses down your neck before taking a deep inhale and growling against your skin. The grip he has on your lower back tightens as you try to pull away.

“Mounty… What’s wrong?” You ask worriedly.

“You still smell like him.” He growls louder. “Why him?” 

You whimper at the harshness of his tone. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking” 

“Well I’m gonna fix that.” He bites against your throat. “I’m gonna fix you.”

Your heart races as you clasp your hands around Mountain's firm shoulders, trying to both push away and pull him closer at the same time.

“Please! Mountain!” You gasp, “I promise I won’t go alone with Swiss anymore!”

He grunts, not seeming appeased by your words. His claws move lower to grip your butt and hoist you up against the shower wall.

“I’ll make sure you never smell like him or Aether ever again.” Mountain growls, his eyes blazing with a mix of possessiveness, lust, and anger. The sheer force of his gaze leaves you breathless and trembling, but also incapable of resisting him.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer as he forces his erection right at your entrance. He thrusts into you, hard and fast, his muscles flexing as he takes you roughly against the slick tiled wall. The hot water splatters against your skin, providing a sensual counterpoint to the raw, animalistic nature of the act.

You moan loudly, your head falling back as you let yourself be taken by him. Each thrust is a surge of pleasure, an electric jolt that courses through your veins. You can't help but arch your back, meeting his every move.

Mountain pounds into you, his breath ragged and hoarse. His eyes never leave yours as he continues to thrust. Your body writhes and convulses as he takes you closer and closer to your release.

The room echoes with the sounds of your bodies meeting, the water mingling with the rhythm of your cries and gasps. His teeth graze your skin as he bites down, leaving a mark that will serve as a reminder of this night. The pain is mixed with pleasure, an exquisite blend that sends your senses into overdrive. 

Your hands dig into his back, nails scratching at the surface as the need to be closer, to be one with him, takes hold. The momentum of your lovemaking shifts, Mountain lifting you higher as he continues to thrust into you. One hand holding you tight around your waist while the other arm braces against the shower wall.

You're lost in the intensity when suddenly Mountain lets out a low growl, his eyes widening before they roll back. His body tenses, and you know in that moment that he's claiming you, marking you as his own.

Your body responds instinctively, your own breath growing ragged as the sensation of him inside you seems to grow even more intense. You feel your orgasm building, a fierce heat surging through your body, and you wrap your legs tighter around him, wanting to pull him even closer.

His sweat mingles with the water, creating a scent that's uniquely his, a heady mix of earth and sweat and something indefinable that speaks to your deepest desires.

As you reach the pinnacle of your pleasure, the room seems to shimmer around you. All sound fades away, leaving only the thundering rhythm of your hearts and the echoes of your bodies crashing against one another.

A look of ecstasy overtakes Mountain's features, his eyes locked on yours, his expression raw and unguarded. He thrusts harder and faster until finally a jolt of white-hot pleasure courses through you. 

You cry out, your body arching off Mountain's, your nails digging into his skin as he continues to thrust into you.

The pressure builds within him too, and just as your orgasm crests, Mountain releases a primal growl, his body convulsing against yours. His release envelopes your every sense.

A tremble runs through your body as you feel him fill you. Your body shivers as he pulls out, the water washing away his essence, leaving only the lingering memory of the connection you've just shared.

As your breath returns to normal, your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close. You kiss him deeply, your bodies still shaking with the aftershocks of your passion.

Slowly, you break the kiss, gazing into his eyes. His lips still parted ever so slightly, as he brushes a hand against your cheek.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly.

You smile up at him, “You could never hurt me.”

He smiles back at you. It's clear he's claimed you, and you feel safe and cherished in his arms.

He leads you out of the shower, wrapping you in a large towel as you step onto the cool stone floor.

As you both dry off and dress, the tension between you dissipates, replaced with a newfound sense of intimacy and understanding. Mountain hugs you close, his arms tight around your waist, and you feel a stab of something like relief and gratitude.

He leads you into his bedroom, still wrapped in his embrace, and the two of you lying down on the bed together. He pulls you close, nuzzling his face into your neck, and you can feel his heartbeat against your skin.

“I’m gonna scent you the rest of the night.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I’m gonna reek of you tomorrow though.”

Mountain chuckles softly, holding you closer. "I'll make sure that's not a problem. If anyone comes close, they'll know you're mine."

You nod against his chest, feeling comforted and content. "I like the sound of that."

A gentle kiss presses against your cheek, and he pulls back to look into your eyes. "What do you say we get some rest? We'll have plenty of time to talk when the sun rises."

You smile at him, the weight of the world seemingly lifted off your shoulders. "Sounds like a plan."

As you snuggle up to him, the warm glow of the fireplace casting a fiery hue on the room, you drift off to sleep, scented and claimed by the one who means the most to you.

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