#copia no please i love him too much

[drug-called-fangirling]

if something happens to Copia tmrw WHILE IM AT WORK I SWEAR TO GOD IM GONNA COLLAPSE ON THE FLOOR QND START CRYING DRAMATICALLY DROPPING A CLIENTS COFFEE

the time zone between Australia and canada will be the death of me (and copia)

[antichristual]

remembering that one night where i was pondering if copia was going to die..one candle, the only light in my room, me sobbing over my journal writing about this italian guy and my emotional attachment to him, mitski playing in the background

[lilspacewolfie]

I Will Hold You For The Minute

I have a lot of feelings about this movie, too many to express, so please take this even though I'm sure it is not at all coherent <3

Content: 1.1k words, Copia x gn!reader, soft and angsty, idk i have too many feelings right now, ghovie related, Copia stresses a lot, lots of kisses, sweetness, that new fit oh my fucking satan its so hot, no beta.

It is so late that the Ministry halls are deathly silent, with only the rodents out of their hunts. It’ll probably be morning soon, you haven’t looked at a clock for hours, but the world outside remains cool and black. 

Today has been… a lot. That is the only way you can think of describing it. Overwhelming, emotional—like a tornado has ripped through the halls… and yet everything is the same, untouched. 

The man you love, standing before the mirror in his room and studying his reflection, is still here. He’s still Copia. 

Alive and breathing. 

You watch him from the doorway of his bathroom, having just slipped the last of his paint pots into the cabinets, stored away, wondering if they’ll ever be used again. Probably, most likely not. Melancholy has been a familiar friend for you today, and you cannot even begin to imagine how Copia is feeling. 

Copia, now Frater Imperator. 

It is surreal. 

Copia’s got an appraising face on. You watch his gloved hands touch the black glittering clerical collar, smoothing down the front of his new, stunning jacket. It is beautiful, tailor-made and spun from the finest wool with twisted, peak lapels made of the softest, shiniest satin. Attached to the lapels and edged with black gemstones, two precious rubies are pinned with a chain connecting in the centre from which a black grucifix swings. It sparkles under the lamplight, like stars against a black sky at the bottom of which, a ruby red tear-drop gem dangles. It’s ridiculous, maybe even a little bit impractical, but it's certainly Copia. And he looks damn good.

He fiddles with the collar and adjusts his cuffs for the hundredth time that night, and you watch his shoulders visibly slump when he meets your eyes in the mirror. You can't help but smile. How can you not? You love him, adore him with everything you are. 

“Hey,” you whisper, stepping into the room, “the bath is ready…”

Copia nods, his eyes back on his reflection. You pad up to him, barefoot and wrapped in his robe that hangs off your body, sliding an arm through his elbow. You lean against his shoulder, squeezing his bicep. The material creases under your touch, cool and crisp.

“Are you ready to get all this off?” You say again, softly, stroking up his arm tenderly. 

The stiffness that grips him is telling enough. When you find his gaze again, his unblinking and wide eyes are glassy, a little of his paint starting to smear down his cheek with a single tear. You can’t help when your own eyes start to burn. The emotions of the day are finally coming to a head. You’ve both been as strong as you can, an unspoken rule that matters not behind closed doors.

“You did so well,” you whisper, sliding a hand down to his tense one. When you lace your fingers through his, his grip is vice.

“Amore…” The way his voice falters on the term is too much for you.

“I’m so proud of you,” you sniffle, your own tears falling. You grip him tighter, leaning into him, watching your pictures in the mirror. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Copia. My Copia…”

When his face crumbles, you pull each other in a tight, suffocating embrace. Copia buries his head in your shoulder and finally, finally, a sob breaks from him. His grip on you is tense, gloved fingers grasping at you desperately, like he’s afraid if he loosens his hold for a moment you’ll slip through his fingers like smoke. He wets your neck with tears, trembling as you stroke a hand through his soft hair and nuzzle into him. 

You kiss the soft, secret space of skin just under his ear, forever marked by your mouth as you hush him. You whisper words of affection and love, pouring everything you have into him, filling his cup with your light while you replace yours with his dark in the hopes he can find some relief. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you tell him again, softly, half-choked. “Everyone will be… so proud of you.” 

“I—I hope I did good for them. I hope I—I was good enough,” he whimpers on a shaky breath.

“Oh, you did so well,” you cradle the back of his neck and press your cheek to his before you nudge him back. The paint around his eyes is a messy smear down his cheeks, his top lip mashed and smeared into his bottom.

You cradle his handsome face, stroking bare thumbs over his cheeks, catching tears and smears of black paint. His eyes are bloodshot, the white iris starker in the centre of its red rim. The wrinkles of his face are deeper somehow with the stress, with all the loss and heartache, but it doesn’t detract from his beauty—from your Copia.

Leaning up on your tip-toes, you press your forehead to his and close your eyes. His hands stay around you, keeping you close. He’s still tense, but softening as the emotions are finally allowed out of the floodgates. 

“You did so well, my baby. My beautiful, sweet man,” you reaffirm again, smiling bittersweet, pulling back to kiss his cheek. Copia closes his eyes and sniffles again. 

“You will always be Copia. Nothing will ever change that.” You kiss his opposite cheek, speaking between sweet pecks. Copia starts to sway with you, slow, ample movements as you speak. “No matter your title,” another kiss, “no matter your appearance or your dress.” You kiss his forehead. “Papa Emeritus. Frater Imperator Copia.” You kiss his wet lids and the tip of his nose. “You will always be loved and treasured, forever. By your fans, by me, by everyone, my sweet boy. I know we are all so proud of you even if it all feels shit right now.” Your smile is bittersweet when he cracks his eyes open. They’re less watery than before. And you chuckle, quietly, nuzzling your nose to his. He lets out a heavy sigh.

Finally, after a few more bittersweet tears, you kiss him on the mouth. You melt into each other, gripping his lapels, his hand on the back of your neck, everything so soft, solid and shaky all at once. It’s strange, to finally watch the balloon that's been inflating beneath his ribs finally pop. 

“Ti amo,” Copia crokes roughly. “I don’t know what I would ever do without you, amore.”

You bring your hands up once more, caressing his temples and stroking through his soft, mousy hair and greys. He purrs, mismatched eyes fluttering. He pulls you in for another deep kiss, humming into our mouth when you part your lips.

It will take time to accept the changes, you know, neither of you will ever get used to such a huge shift… You’ve both always been afraid of the future and talked about your fears and anxieties in the late morning hours when neither of you could sleep. But you’ve done it before, and you will do it again, together as one.

You know that with him, the future doesn’t look so foreign.

<3

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.” 

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

-

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

-

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness 

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

-

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

-

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself 

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

-

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

[earthry]

Papas Accidentally Being Too Rough in Bed (Headcanons)

I have no clue where this spawned from but please enjoy scaring the Papas when they’re accidentally too rough with you and then doing everything they can to make up for it.

mostly sfw, tw for being rough on accident, possessiveness, hurt/comfort.

Primo

It’s wild because you didn’t think Primo could get that rough in bed, given his age. But there are bruises that he apologizes for after, ones he kisses with each apology. He brings out a special cream and gently applies it to the abused skin.

He makes you stay in bed while he pampers you, grabbing yummy snacks and making a cup of your favorite tea. He even hand feeds you, babying you until you tell him that really, you’re okay. You are showered in apologies and words of love and reassurance before being wrapped up into his arms and snuggled to death.

Secondo

Secondo thinks you’re whining to be bratty but when his belt comes away with blood, he’s never dropped anything so fast. He’s quick to untie you, cursing and apologizing profusely. He assesses the damage with worry, grabbing a warm damp towel to clean your backside.

He gently shushes you when you whimper from the sting, kissing your temple and telling you that you’re doing so, so good for him. After sanitizing and bandaging the wound, he’ll clean the two of you up and pull you into his arms in a tight embrace— though he’s careful of your injury.

Apologizes for hurting you, promising that he hadn’t meant to and that it was his fault for misjudging how much strength he was using. You tell him you forgive him and he almost cries— you let him spoil you for the rest of the night and weeks to follow.

Terzo

It’s more of an accident than anything, for how clumsy Terzo is. He’s so eager in bed to please you and make you feel good that when he’s going down on you, he accidentally slams you against the bed frame a little too forcefully. You can’t help the involuntary sound of pain that escapes you and things happen so quickly because next thing you know, you’re in Terzo’s shaking arms as he begs for forgiveness, frantically checking if you’re badly hurt.

After he checks your backside to see that there’s a little bruising he apologizes even more and places the most gentlest of kisses against your skin. You are bundled up in blankets and love afterwards and since then, Terzo’s been very careful when it comes to sexy times.

Copia

With Copia it’s also unexpected but for different reasons. Though he’s certainly enthusiastic in bed, he’s always been gentle and very attentive to pleasing you. While he can get rough every so often, it’s still tame compared to most. He’s a very considerate lover, always checking in, always making sure he’s not gripping you too hard, not holding you too tight.

You didn’t expect him to have such a jealous streak however— despite wanting to tease him. It was Swiss’s idea to flirt with each other to rile him up, which definitely does the trick. And oh boy is it a night to remember. He’s intense and possessive, growling as he fucks you hard, his words melting together as he tells you that you’re his, that he’s going to show you that no one can fuck you better than him, will love you better.

You’re left with bruises on your hips and dark hickies littering your skin. You would laugh at Copia’s expression if it wasn’t so horrified. You reassure him that you enjoyed it, that it was what you wanted. Still, he apologizes and cares for you after— running a bath for you and tenderly helping you wash your hair, gently running fingers over the bruises he’s made. He still looks so guilty but it’s okay because you kiss it all better until he’s out of breath.

[gravehags]

the one who comes (richly endowed)

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: rough sex, cum eating, copia in that goddamn white suit, oral (m receiving, through pants), semi public sex, ghoul voyeurism, masturbation, curator reader being evil

Words: 3,459

Summary: A series of sartorial events.

a/n: i am quite literally always saying how i'm going to suck copia off through those white lululemon leggings so you know. here you go.

~~~

“The eh, Ministry tailor wants to go over some of the tour outfits tomorrow afternoon. Care to join me?”

You yawn wide enough to pop your jaw and snuggle into the side of your lover, fingers raking through his abundant chest hair. He’s got a book propped up on his belly and his reading glasses perched on his long nose as he pauses every few moments to notate something in the margins or underline. 

“Yes please,” you say, leaning forward to place a kiss to each of the entwined 6s tattooed on his freckled pectoral. The action makes him chuckle, eyes briefly leaving the page to flick to you.

“You promise not to get too jealous?” he asks innocently, turning the page, “I mean these are the outfits my adoring fans will be seeing me perform in while you’re stuck here at the abbey. Who knows what kind of mischief I could get up to?”

You snort and sharply pinch his nipple, causing him to let out a ridiculously rat-like squeak.

“You’re not the only one who could get up to mischief,” you coo, “When the Cardinal’s away, the curator will play, hmm? I bet Terzo isn’t busy these days…”

Copia lets out a growl and removes his glasses, tossing them carelessly on the nightstand along with his book.

“What did you say?”

You’re trying so hard to bite back the evil grin that threatens to spread across your face as you lean away from your lover to flop onto your back and stare at the bed canopy above you.

“I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to seek out some ah…diversion in your absence. Particularly when you’re going to have your ‘adoring fans’ crawling all over you. Tell me, which of the Papas is best at eating pus–”

You don’t get to finish the sentence because Copia has rolled on top of you and situated himself between your legs.

“Dolcezza,” he leans in to growl in your ear, making a delightful shiver run up your spine, “Do not toy with me. Do not make me keep you tied to my tour bus bed with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air to use as I please every night, eh?”

You giggle warmly.

“I don’t know, sounds kind of ideal to me,” you purr, “To be so deliciously, divinely stuffed with your cum over and over after every show. What is it the siblings call me? ‘The Cardinal’s mistress’? And what is it the ghouls call me? Ah yes, ‘the Cardinal’s mate.’ Would you mate with me in that tour bus, amore? Loud and feral, for all your ghouls to hear? I think they’d like to wat–ah!”

Flinging back the covers and sitting on his haunches, he grabs you and roughly flips you over. 

“Piccola provocazione mia,” he sighs, rucking your nightgown over your hips and bending your knees, “If you wanted my cock so badly tonight–” he says, and you hear him yank down his sleep pants behind you, “--all you had to do was ask.”

You giggle into the pillow as he drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Much more fun this–ah!--way! Fuck, Copia!”

He’s bottomed out inside you before you can even finish your sentence and places a firm hand between your shoulder blades as he begins to roughly fuck you. You turn your head to the side to get some air and so he can hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“You–ah–want it like this? Bent over and spread open for anyone to watch? To listen? Tesoro, we should recruit you for–hngh–sex rituals. Who knew a sweet girl like you liked–ah–an audience?”

The snap of his hips against yours is ruthless and the sound of his balls slapping against you with each thrust drives another moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, Copia, right there! Feel so good baby, l-love it when you u-use me, ah!”

His hand on your back presses you further into the mattress, causing you to arch your back even more sharply. The new angle has starbursts exploding across your vision.

“Sei mio,” he grunts, his grip on your hip bruising, “And until the m-moment I leave for t-tour I’ll–ah–gladly remind you, s-si?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you chant, pushing back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, “Mmm fuck, Copia, make me yours!”

His fingers abandon your hip to reach around and slide through your folds, moaning at how wet you are. When he brushes against your clit, you let out a sharp whine.

“Copia, please! Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck!”

Your cunt spasms around him and you cry out as he brings you over the edge, his name on your lips. 

“Ragazza brava mia,” he moans, “My perfect girl, so good for me. Cazzo, I’m gonna cum, amore. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine at the loss but crane your head as far back as you can to watch him feverishly stroke his cock.

“Come on baby,” you pant even though your neck is killing you. “Cum on me. Mark me up.”

The sight of his fist rocketing along his reddened cock, slick with your juices has you grinding into the mattress, desperate for another release. When he cums with a shout, covering your lower back in spurts of his seed your body sags into the bed. You can hear his rapid breaths as he wrings out every last drop onto you and finally lets go to survey his handiwork. He drags his forefinger through the mess and you turn your head, opening your mouth obediently. When the warm digit meets your tongue, the salt of him on your tastebuds, you close your mouth around it and suck eagerly.

“What a deviant I have made of a sweet little virgin,” he marvels and you slide off his finger to swallow with a smile.

“Think I was a deviant even when I was a virgin,” you murmur, “You just encouraged it. But some of the fantasies I had…”

“Oh?”

“Get me a rag to clean this up then I’ll tell you all about them, my love.”

He does as he’s told, wiping up his seed and rejoining you in bed so you can assume your earlier positions. You make a bet with yourself about how many times the two of you are going to hunger for one another that night.

As always, both of you exceed your expectations.

–

“What do you think about this? Amore?”

“Hmm?” you look up from the binderful of sketches you’ve been browsing while your beloved and the tailor conversed in rapid Italian, “Think about what?”

Copia stands on a round platform surrounded by mirrors. The tailor leans up against the door and gestures to the Cardinal.

“It’s a good suit, no?”

You smile. Of course it’s a good suit. It’s the suit Copia was wearing the night of your first date. The night where the two of you grinded on each other and made an absolute mess of those trousers. Those lovely, snug trousers and the curve of–

“Amore?” Copia asks, and you see his mustache twitch in amusement.

“It’s great! I love it, did you um…change the material of the pants? From the original suit I mean.”

“Si, si,” the tailor nods, “the Cardinal requires pants with more stretch to allow for vigorous movement on stage.”

Mmm vigorous movement.

“So he’ll be wearing either of his cassocks and uh…this black suit?”

Once again the tailor nods.

“I also have made prototypes in two other colors. Would you like to see those?”

He’s asking Copia too but you interject to answer for him.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re in garment bags in the dressing room, Cardinal.”

The Cardinal gives the tailor a tight smile before turning to you and giving you a look. You smile and shrug. Better him than you, and the way he fucked you last night, you almost collapsed on the floor this morning when you got out of bed while he chuckled, the bastard. He deserves a little torture. A few more minutes pass and he comes out and does a little pose. He looks resplendent in a cardinal red version of the suit and you know you’re grinning like an idiot when he steps onto the platform, preening.

“Oh the red is good, signore,” you tell the tailor, who smiles pleasantly at you. “I think I like it even better than the black. What do you think, my love?”

Copia’s preoccupied with making stupid little muscle man poses in the mirror and you have to stuff your fist in your mouth to muffle your guffaw.

“Huh-wha…what was that, amore?”

“I said, how do you feel about the red?”

“Oh eh, si. Very nice. Vibrant. Is that all?”

“There is one more suit in the dressing room, Cardinale,” the tailor gently reminds him and Copia turns to give you a deep bow before retreating to his cubicle. You hear him disrobe and hang up the red suit followed by unzipping the last garment bag. There’s a shuffle of fabric and Copia makes an odd sound.

“I…I, eh don’t think I’ll come out for this one.”

You look to the tailor nonplussed, who looks to you, equally perplexed.

“Isn’t it just the same suit in a different color, hon?”

“Si, it’s just that it’s eh…” he makes one of his noises, “It’s…ah fuck it.”

When he opens the door and peeks his head out you smile encouragingly. That smile slowly drops as he slides out of the dressing room to stand on the platform, replaced with something more awestruck and hungry. True to the tailor’s word, it is the same suit, however this one is in snow white. He looks incredibly elegant but that’s not what occupies your mind - what occupies your mind is the hefty and defined curve of his cock and balls in those sinfully tight white pants.

“Well, what do you think?”

You let out a lewd gurgle and now it’s the tailor’s turn to muffle his laughter.

“Exactly. I don’t think I’ll be going with this one, signore.”

The string of filth going through your mind is interrupted by his words.

“What?! No!” you splutter, flapping your hands. “No, this one absolutely stays.” 

“Amore,” Copia stage whispers, “You can see my whole dick.”

“Yeah, and balls,” you loudly whisper back, “Which is exactly why you’re keeping it.”

“Sarto, will you eh, excuse me and the signorina for a moment per favore?”

The tailor silently nods with an amused expression and steps out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Dolcezza, I am supposed to be on stage in this outfit. I’m supposed to sing while wearing this. You want me to look like a…a Chippendale at these rituals?”

You cough to hide your laughter.

“Beloved, may I be frank with you?”

“Please.”

“People come to these rituals to be tempted, right? To dip their toe into what the Ministry has to offer? Copia I am being so honest with you right now when I say that this–” you gesture to what’s on display at the juncture of his thighs, “--in combination with the music? Baby, you’ll be beating new recruits off with a stick. Might as well have a sign-up booth outside the venue. If I were some wide-eyed, easily influenced young person and I walked into one of your rituals to hear you sing about being the one who comes richly endowed and coming into the daughters of men and whatnot? My love, I would swear myself to Satan for one corn chip if you asked.”

Copia nods slowly, considering.

“You…have a point, dolcezza. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t met you until I became head of the Ghost project so I could see you front row at a ritual…oh the things I would do to you.”

“And you still can,” you murmur, setting the sketch binder aside, “Keep this outfit and I promise you I’ll visit you backstage at one of your shows. I’ll surprise you.”

“Done,” he says, slapping his thigh. A soft knock sounds through the room and the tailor opens the door.

“Everything good?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Molto bene, signore,” you say, “He’s keeping the outfit.”

“Ah, good, good,” the tailor smiles, clapping his hands together, “I was hoping you’d say that because I have a couple accessories for this one.”

You look to Copia, intrigued. The tailor produces a hat box and removes the lid, handing Copia a very dashing black fedora with a white band. The Cardinal places it on his head, looking devastatingly handsome as he poses in the many mirrors. The tailor disappears for a moment and then reappears to hand Copia a black cane with a silver snake handle.

“What do you think, signorina?” the tailor asks, hands behind his back. Copia turns to you and with an evil grin, slides the length of the cane along his cock then rocks his hips against it. Your jaw loosens and your eyes glaze over.

“Amore, the tailor asked you a question?”

“Hard. I mean good! Good! It’s all very good, thank you for indulging me, signore. Beautiful work but I expected nothing less from the man that makes his cassocks. You know, the way the fascia cinches him in and the fabric falls over his as–assets. Uh…”

The tailor coughs, hiding a smile with his fist.

“Grazie, signorina. And grazie, Cardinale. I’ll work on making duplicates of these designs at once.”

Copia nods and steps off the platform to return to the dressing room. A beat passes when you get up and scuttle over to the tailor.

“Is there any way you can make the pants um. Tighter?”

“I heard that.”

—

His veins are on fire, thrumming as he makes his walk off the stage post-encore. The crowd loves him. They love him. The little rat bastard Cardinal makes the beautiful young creatures of the crowd scream and profess their adoration. He’s feeling elated, high as he passes by two roadies and works his way backstage when he hears a low whistle come from a corner near some tour crates. When he looks he double takes because surely he must be dreaming. Surely his eyes must be playing tricks on him as he sees his amore slowly emerge from behind a box wearing that little half-smile you sport when getting up to mischief. Before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s running over to you - damn his sore muscles in need of a long shower - and into your open arms.

“Surprised?” you ask as you throw your arms around his neck. 

Immediately he buries his nose into your loose hair and a shudder rips through him as he’s enveloped in your scent. His hands roam your back, sliding down further to cup your ass and pull you into him.

“Mmm insatiable as always,” you mutter into his shoulder, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. The adrenaline of the evening matched with the way you’re gazing at him makes his cock stir. Your lips twitch upwards and eyebrow arches.

“Amore,” he growls, grinding against your belly, “Come to my dressing room so we can–”

“What’s wrong with right here?” you ask innocently, gesturing to the empty nook stacked with gear boxes. “I came such a long way for you, I simply can’t waste another moment.”

When you begin to lower yourself to your knees, his head tips back in a groan. Cazzo, he missed this. When he reopens his eyes he spots something in the darkness further behind you - a slender form in black and a flash of a silver mask.

Dewdrop.

He should tell you, should grab you by the shoulders and scurry away with you somewhere more private but he thinks about that day months ago when you said you wanted to be watched. Copia’s head jerks in a nod in the ghoul’s direction and he sees his mouth fall open in a pant. You’re massaging the meat of his thighs in your perfect little hands when he looks down at you.

“You’re distracted,” you murmur, blinking up at him, “Guess you haven’t missed me much after all.”

“Dolcezza, no!” Copia breathes, gloved hand stroking your hair, “Come up here and I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”

“No, no,” you say airily, and for a horrible moment he thinks he’s seriously hurt your feelings but then you look up and give him a sinister little grin that makes him throb.

“Did they like it?” you ask, trailing your fingertips over his clothed cock.

“L-Like it?”

“The white suit,” you say patiently, dragging your fingernails down his thigh. “How did they look up at you tonight, my love? Were they hungry for you?” 

You lean in to place a chaste kiss to his bulge that almost makes his knees give out.

“Will they go home tonight and fuck themselves to the thought of you?”

When you drag the flat of your tongue across his balls and up his cock he whimpers pathetically.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hmmm,” you ponder, thumb rubbing the head of him through his pants. There’s a sizable wet stain on them now from where he’s been leaking pre, “I was out there, you know. Watching. Saw the way you thrusted and fell to your knees and grinded on that cane. Saw the way they all panted for you. And you know what I was thinking the whole time, my love?”

He’s breathing heavy through his nose.

“No, a-amore.”

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”

You lean in and wetly latch onto his balls through the thin fabric and his hand flies to the back of your head. You’re giggling around him and the vibrations make him whimper.

“Fuck, amata mia, yes,” he groans, rocking his hips into your touch. Slowly you drag your tongue along his shaft and even through the material he knows you’re tracing the thick vein. When Copia tilts his head back in a moan, his half-lidded eyes fall on the ghoul in the shadows. Dew is still mostly obscured but even the darkness can’t hide the way his strong hand is sliding along the ridges of his hardened cock. His head is tilted downwards towards you - drinking in the way you look with your thighs splayed in that pretty sundress, your mouth suckling on the head of his Cardinal’s cock. Copia knows he won’t last much longer - not with how worked up he already was from the ritual and with their audience - and he looks down at you adoringly.

“Close, tesoro. Gonna–ah–gonna make me cum in my pants?”

Your lips pull off him for only a moment to give him a wide smile.

“Just like New Year’s Eve. Remember?” You place a hand on his bulge and begin stroking it. “The champagne burning in our veins? The way the curve of your cock felt nudging my clit through those red lace panties you like? How your fingers gripped me hard enough to bruise?”

“Si, si, I remember, I remember, amore,”

“You told me to make a mess of myself. I should have put those panties in your pocket but we already know how you like to steal them yourself, hmm?”

Copia makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine as his cheeks are flooded with red and his hips buck into your touch.

“Dirty old man,” you say with a grin, “Can’t help yourself can you, Cardinal? On stage, in my bed, right now under my hand and mouth–”

He feels the pressure building in his spine as you rub him frantically through his pants.

“--while your ghoul watches us.”

The moan that comes out of him is loud and long, hips rutting against your hand as he cums in ropes and soaks the white fabric. You’re cooing praise at him from your spot on the floor as he takes shuddering breaths. When he looks up, Dewdrop is gone but there’s no mistaking what’s spattered on the floor where he stood. Did you plan this? How could he have known? How could you have known? How–

“Hey,” you say, placing a little kiss to the wet stain on his crotch, “Help me up?”

With a start he bends over and lifts you gently by the elbows until you’re standing and stretching. Overcome with adoration, he grabs you by the back of the head and slots his lips against yours. His ragazza bella. His mistress. His perfect mate.

“So,” you say once you finally manage to pull away from him, “Show me that dressing room?”

[ramblingoak]

Could I please request a kiss goodnight with Copia dearest Oak?

A Kiss Goodnight

Copia x Reader

Warnings: little bit of dirty talk but otherwise just a sweet moment between you and Copia, nsfw just in case so 18+ only, mdni, 1100 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers and @foxybouquet for the Italian help!)

He had fallen asleep again.

You couldn’t blame him though, he had been touring for three months straight now with two more to go.  Their tour bus was nice but it was still a bus and not the most comfortable place to sleep.  Plus add eight ghouls and well…things were cramped.  There were a lot of clashing personalities shoved into a small space and at this point in the tour nerves were frayed and everyone was on edge.  On edge and exhausted.

Copia muttered something too soft for you to hear before snorting and jerking awake.  Your view of him tumbled as he knocked his phone from its perch on the pillow next to him.  When he came back into view you had to stifle a laugh seeing the pillow creases on one side of his face.  There was still makeup tucked into the wrinkles you loved so much and his hair was wild, the salt and pepper strands sticking up aggressively.  

Your heart ached with how much love you had for this man.

“You should go to bed, Papa.  There’s another show tomorrow, yeah?”

“Si, tomorrow and the next day.”  He reached a bare hand up and rubbed at his eyes, smearing the makeup that was still there around some more.  “But I’m good, mi sento bene.  I want to hear about your day.”

It was hard to stifle your grin because you had actually told him about your day already.  He had just been so out of it he was half asleep when you’d started and snoring by the time you were done.  You decided to humor him though, clearing your throat and starting an abridged version of things.

“Well, Terzo and Secondo were summoning more ghouls but apparently they got into an argument half way through the ritual.”  Copia rolled his eyes and dropped his head back onto his pillow with a laugh.  “Next thing I know, Primo is running down the hall screaming about hell hounds.”

“Hell hounds?!  Quegli idioti, is everyone ok?”  

“Oh yes, Alpha and Omega were able to keep them contained in the summoning circle.  When Primo showed up he banished your brothers into the hall and then the hounds back to their home.”

“Lucifero, those two are going to burn the abbey down some day.” 

You were both quiet for a moment, Copia’s eyes were drooping again and you just smiled softly as you watched the lines of worry smooth out as he relaxed.  Hopefully next tour he would let you tag along.  These nightly video calls were nice but you missed seeing him in the flesh.  You missed holding him close and burying your nose against his neck to smell his cologne.  You missed his touch, the way the leather of his gloves felt on your skin.

You missed his kisses.

“Amore?”  It was your turn to startle and you gave him a sheepish smile, half hiding your face behind your blanket.  He had a look of amusement on his face, his eyes suddenly a bit brighter and more awake then they were a moment ago.  “Thinking of anything in particular?”

“You.”  He grinned as he brought his phone closer to his face while you did the same.  “It’s always you.  Idiota.”

“How cruel you are to me, I should punish you.”

“Punish?  And how will you do that from so far away, Papa?”

“Hmm, maybe tomorrow night I’ll be too tired to call.  You’ll have to go to sleep without seeing my handsome face.”

“Oh that would be cruel.”  You bit your lip before you decided to take this a bit further, letting out a little grunt as you stretched out in the bed.  “I’ll have to find something else to occupy my time in this big bed of yours.”

“Like what?”  Copia’s voice had gotten a little deeper, his eyes not leaving yours as he stared at you through the phone screen.  “Tell your Papa what you would do.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll slip into your bed naked.  These sheets feel so good against my skin.”  He groaned a little before you continued,  “If I can’t talk to you I’ll just have to pretend you're here next to me.  Touching me in all the places I like to be touched.”

“I do enjoy touching you,”  He groaned a little louder and you shushed him, not wanting him to draw the attention of the ghouls.  Copia ignored you though and you watched as his shoulder shifted, his arm no doubt moving so he could touch himself instead.  “With my hands and my mouth.”

“I enjoy that too, Papa.”  You let your hand travel down your body, your fingers dipping into your underwear so you could touch yourself.  “I love your mouth on me.”

“Fuck, yes.  I’d taste you everywhere.”  Copia’s arm began to move faster and he let out a feral sounding groan before he spoke again,  “Want to dip my tongue as far into you as I ca–”

“No phone sex on the bus!”

You and Copia both yelled out at the sound of Swiss’s voice.  Your cheeks flamed and you slammed your phone face down onto the bed.  Their voices were muffled but you could hear Swiss and Copia yelling at each other.  You didn’t move until the noise had quieted down and you heard Copia’s voice softly calling out your name.  When you grabbed your phone to look at him again he had a sheepish look on his face.

“Eh, I forgot I made this rule after the first week of the tour.  There was an incident with Cirrus you see and,”  Copia trailed off and shrugged.  “Maybe one of these nights I’ll get a hotel room so we can try this again.”

“Sounds like a plan, Papa.”  He smiled softly, his face once more showing how tired he was.  It was time to say goodnight so you both could get some sleep.  “What will we do for tonight though?”

“Tonight?  Uh, I’m not sure I can stay quiet enough…”

“Can I at least get a goodnight kiss?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

You couldn’t help yourself and reached out to gently touch your screen with your finger, the yearning to actually be able to touch him so strong you wanted to cry.  He brought his phone up to his face, waiting for you to do the same, the both of you gently pressing your lips to them at the same time.  When he started whispering something soft in Italian you pulled away, your eyes trying to trace every part of his face before you said goodnight.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Yes, Papa.  I’ll be here.”

“Naked in my bed?”  He laughed when you rolled your eyes, reaching up to get ready to flick the light switch.  “Buonanotte, amore.”

“Goodnight, Copia.”

You let a few tears fall after the call ended and you quickly buried yourself in the sheets to surround yourself with his smell.  Two more months without him was too long and you decided then and there to see about that hotel room first thing tomorrow.

And a plane ticket so you could share it with him.

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[da-rulah]

I hope you are having a wonderful day.

I humbly request some jealous cardi spice ♡

Thank you lovely! My day is going well, I've done nothing today other than write this filth.

So, listen... An idea came to me with this one... and I ran with it. I bloody love jealous tropes, as you may know if you've read Day 5 of Rituale Septem... But this one gets a little... sacrilegious.

Darling, this became feral. And I'm not sorry.

18+ MDNI! Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader.

TW/ Jealous themes (ofc), ex-boyfriend returns, mentions of past life in a christian church, violence, blood, fingering, rough sex, references to Satan and the Devil, possessiveness, breeding kink, ownership kink, creampie.

"Are. You. Mine?" artwork created by the incredibly talented @honimello!

Thank you so much, it's incredible and exactly how I pictured Copia's face in that scene...

If any artists are ever inspired by anything I write, please please do share it with me - I'd love to see what your mind's eye sees when reading my work. And this fandom is full of incredible talent. I love it here.

Frantic knocking on the door to Papa's quarters jolted you from the trance your book in hand had you in. Copia had been drifting off, his gloved fingers mindlessly playing with your hair as you read in his lap but he too startled to sit upright.

In a fumble of clumsy limbs, the two of you stood, Papa heading straight for the door to find Rain out of breath and panicked.

"Rain? What's the matter, mio amico?" Papa asked, waiting patiently for him to get his breath back. Clearly he had run as fast as he could to find Papa.

"Th-there's... a man... he's shouting about Sister ______ on the steps of the Ministry, Papa!" he explained frantically, waving his arm in the direction of the front doors.

Your eyes widened, Papa's head flinging around to look back at you. You had a sinking feeling in your gut. You know who it was... He'd found you.

"I-I'll go... I'll take care of it," you said, stepping around Copia and walking a little ways out into the hall when he grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

"What's going on?" he asked, "This sounds dangerous, why don't you let me..."

"He's not dangerous. He's just an idiot. I'll deal with it," you told him firmly. "Stay."

Copia let go of your arm and you continued to walk down the hall. He nodded in your direction at Rain, telling him to follow you and make sure you were in fact safe. Rain nodded and trotted behind you - you didn't mind him being your backup, but it was Copia you wanted to keep away from the situation.

As you got closer to the doors, you could hear the ramblings of the idiot on the Ministry steps, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"_________! Hey, I know you're in there! I know what they've done... They've stolen you away, told you lies and made you fall in love with the devil!"

You groaned to yourself, turning to Rain with an eye roll.

"Ex-boyfriends, eh?" you scoffed, before wrenching the door open and standing on the top step.

"Elijah, you sound like an idiot," you said, monotonous and feigning boredom.

"Oh, see? I knew you were here! Cavorting with heathens and the Devil! I need to take you home, _______. To bring you back to God!"

You knew your past in a Christian community would come back to bite you on the ass someday, but you'd hoped to be a little more prepared for it.

But no, here was your ex-boyfriend, now more religious than you'd ever known him when you were together, trying to... win you back? That was laughable.

"God only knows what you do within those walls... Filthy fornication, sacrifices to Satan..."

"That's rich, Elijah. I seem to remember you had no problem with fornication when we were together. But hey, one rule for you, another for the rest isn't it?" you laughed. Elijah saw read, stomping up the steps and standing on the one beneath you.

"I have seen the error of my ways, and I'm repenting every day for them, whore! You must do the same, come with me. Now!" he grabbed your arm, attempting to drag you down the steps and go back to the life you'd left behind many moons ago.

No way in hell were you going back there again.

You began kicking and yelling at him, flailing your arms as you panicked - he was strong, but Rain was behind you. No doubt he'd be jolted into action as he saw you being dragged away by this lunatic.

"I think you'd better let her go," a thickly-accented voice behind you stopped Elijah in his tracks, his head snapping around to look behind where you both were halfway down the steps.

Papa stood at the top, his hands behind his back and surrounded by three of his beefiest Ghouls - and Sodo. But Sodo was growling like the feral little raccoon he was.

"Or what, old man? You gonna take her from me?" Elijah challenged, pulling you against him with you back against his chest. He was scared, using you as a human shield. Pathetic. "She doesn't belong here, in this... this... vile place."

Copia laughed, stepping down the steps and holding a hand out to his side to keep his Ghouls at bay. He pried Elijah's hands off you, taking your hands in his and checking you were okay.

"Go wait up there with Rain, amore mio," he told you, his voice soft and his palm caressing your cheek to calm you. You nodded under his touch and headed back up to the top of the stairs, the Ghouls parting to let you stand behind them for safety. Rain came to your side, holding your hand.

Copia squared up to Elijah then, in a way you'd never seen him square up to anybody. He scared you, with how silent and yet, clearly livid he was.

"You're not taking her anywhere, stronzo." His voice was dark and commanding.

"Oh, I get it now..." Elijah began to laugh, cackling to himself as he doubled over at something so hilariously amusing to only him. "Are you... are you fucking him?" he asked you, pointing at Copia and dismissing him. "This weird, old guy? Really?"

You wanted to defend Copia, but the way he looked over his shoulder at you had you staying put and squeezing on Rain's hand.

"She's found her place here, able to live a life where she's not judged and vilified for living her fucking life. You people are all the same.. damning souls to Hell for the things you wish you allowed yourself to do. But oh no, they're sins, eh? You couldn't possibly..." Copia scoffed.

"I have sinned in the past, but I repented. I sinned plenty," Elijah's voice dropped so only Papa could hear, "I sinned with her..."

Copia's hands balled into fists at his side. Jealousy, no matter how warranted, flooded his veins like poison.

"I remember, too... I know what she likes, what she's into. Have you found that spot on her collarbone yet? She likes that..." Elijah was smirking, and you didn't like the look on his face as he whispered in Copia's ear. Copia remained still, fists clenched and staring straight ahead.

"I was her first, you know... Gave her her first orgasm, made her cum over and over... Can you do that, old man? One night with me again, and she'd forget your name if it was tattooed on her arm. She'll always be mine..."

A green mist descended in Copia's mind, and he couldn't help himself. He swung for Elijah, his fist connecting with his cheek with a sickening crack.

The Ghouls sprang into action when Elijah pounced on Copia, shoving him to the floor and trying to get a few punches in himself, but Copia was too strong for him. A man you thought would never hurt a fly, wouldn't be able to hold his own in a fight on account of his own awkwardness and his tender nature and yet... you were seeing a whole new, angry side to him. And it made your chest tighten, knowing he was fighting for you...

The Ghouls sprang into action, quickly restraining Elijah and dragging him to the parking lot around the side of the front building to the Ministry. You saw them throw him into the back of a van, two of them and Sodo joining him in the back whilst the remaining Ghoul got in the driver's seat.

You ran to Copia's side where he stood up, dusting himself off.

"Copia! Fucking hell, are you alright?" you asked, your hands pulling his face to look at you but he couldn't look you in the eye. Instead, he gripped your wrists in his and pulled you back up the steps, marching you back to his quarter's and ignoring Rain's protests he should go to the infirmary for the blood dripping from his forehead and lip.

You tried to slow him down, to tell him to stop and breathe but he ignored everything you said to him until he had you back in his living room, slamming the door behind him. He let you go, practically throwing you into the middle of the room as he stalked towards you with dark, hungry eyes.

'C-Copia... what did he say to you?" you asked him, terrified he was now angry at you for some lies Elijah may have told.

"You're mine, sí?" he asked, his voice deep and forced through grit teeth.

"W-what?" you asked; how could he ask that of you. He knew you were, body and soul.

"Are. You. Mine?" he asked, slowly. You took a step back.

"Of course I am!" you yelled, "Copia your head, your lip... Let me clean you up, okay? Just... Just take a breath, calm down," you told him, taking another step back as he took one towards you.

He ignored you, backing you up until your legs hit the couch behind you. He was in your space now, glowering down at you. The look in his eyes both terrified and excited you. With such a dark expression, the blood from his lip and forehead only served to add a menacing and yet, enticing air of danger to your predicament.

"Calm down? I am calm, amore mio. Why wouldn't I be calm, eh?" Sarcasm dripped from every word.

"Copia, please..." you lift your hand to caress his cheek, trying to check the damage to his lip and head but he catches your wrist in a tight grip, earning a gasp from you.

"I am a better man than him, sí?" he asked. You creased your brow in confusion for a minute, before remembering to answer him. Every millisecond of silence his grip on your wrist tightened.

"Y-yes, of course you are. Copia, you're scaring me..." Only half true, of course. He was absolutely a better man than Elijah ever was, and you were only... slightly scared in that moment.

"I love you more than he ever could, sí?" he asked.

"Y-you do, yes. And I love you, so much..." you told him, trying desperately to get him to just calm down, to snap out of whatever hex he was under.

"And..." he steps forward again, his foot between both yours as he presses his thigh between your legs. You can feel his hip against you, his groin pressing into your own hip bone. Was he... hard? "I fuck you better than he ever could, sí?"

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you stuttered an incoherent response. You hate to admit it but his anger was having an effect on you; his jealousy. Whatever Elijah had said to him, it must have riled him up enough to make him jealous in some way. And honestly, the thought of Copia being jealous should have had you angry at him, because how could he be jealous of that asshole?

But instead, it lit a furnace inside you. This incredibly powerful, wonderful man, who would rearrange the nine circles of Hell for you if only you asked, was jealous for you.

"Answer me," he growled, and you stammered again, unable to form a two words to string together. He took your silence as a no; severely misinterpreting the situation.

"Perhaps you need reminding, amore mio?" Copia grabbed your other arm and twisted you to the side, pushing you down to the couch with your back shoved into the corner. He knelt between your spread thighs, hands on the arm and backs of the couch and hovering above you.

"Ti scoperò finché non dimenticherai che quel tuo dio infernale ha mai fatto parte della tua vita, (I'll fuck you until you forget that that infernal God of yours was ever a part of your life)," he growled, his jealousy and anger at your past life bubbling away inside him. You didn't know enough Italian to know what he'd sad, but you recognised enough to know he was growling about God in your life? Whatever it was, it sent a flood of arousal to your core.

Before you knew it, his lips were pushed bruisingly hard against your own. You could taste the metallic pang of blood on your lips, but you had no room to care at that point. You let him consume you, his tongue working against your own with no contest as your gripped onto the lapels of his tattered jacket.

Copia's hands came to grip onto your habit either side of the buttons, and with one sharp tug he ripped it open, the buttons pinging off in different directions. he pulled again, lower, exposing your body to him where you lay.

You felt so desperate already, needy beneath him as you scrambled to push his jacket off him, then pulling on the knot of his blue neck tie and lifting that over his head with a brief separation of his punishing kiss.

Like he had to you, you pulled on either side of his shirt to try and rip it open, but you simply weren't strong enough. Copia chuckled, sitting up between your legs.

"My poor toppolina, let me help, hm?" he mocked, before ripping into his own shirt in one fell swoop. You ran your hands over his chest, marvelling at the structure of a well exercised man, his chest covered in an expanse of salt and pepper speckled chest hair. You traced the '666' over his heart, earning you a low growl from him.

"His mark, toppolina... You pledged yourself to Him now, sí? And to me..." You had, yes. Completely.

Before you could reply his lips were on yours again, licking and sucking at your bottom lip, biting down and earning a whimper from you. You bucked your hips against his thigh, already beginning to soak through the panties on display to him.

He noticed the damp patch, and his head twitched with a smirk. Without hesitation he was ripping them down your thighs and pulling them off your legs, exposing your glistening folds to him.

He swirled his gloved fingers through the mess a few times, before immediately sliding his ring and middle finger inside you. You took him with pleasure, back arching from the couch and a moan ripping from your throat.

"Tell me, amore mio, who makes you see stars every time he touches you, eh?" he taunted, hovering above you as you writhed, his fingers pumping and curling inside you bringing you so much bliss already.

"Y-you do, Copia... Fuck," you gasped when his thumb came to draw circles over your clit. "Don't stop, please..." you begged.

He had no intention of stopping, dragging you further and further towards a climax until finally, the gasp rising in your chest got stuck, and your orgasm burst inside you.

"C-Copia!" you stuttered a scream, hands flying to grip onto his wrist while his hand continued it's onslaught on your core until he was satisfied he'd got every ounce of pleasure from your orgasm as possible.

Your grip on him loosened as you came back down, and he took this as his chance to manhandle you, flipping you over onto your knees and bent over the corner of the couch lazily. When you gazed dreamily behind you, still hazy from your orgasm, you saw him unlacing the front of his tattered pants, pushing them down just enough to release his cock. He leant forward, gripping onto your hip with one hand and lining his length up with your folds with the other. He dragged the tip of his cock - an angry shade of red and leaking precum - through your juices.

"You're mine, amore mio," he growled through grit teeth, his bare chest pressed against the habit he'd bunched up around your hips, "I claim you as such."

In one swift motion, he slid home, filling you to the brim as his hips came into contact with your ass. He grunted when he bottomed out, the warmth of your inner walls sending a pleasurable shiver through his body.

Before long his hips were smacking into your ass over and over, his cock filling you deliciously while he angled himself to hit your g-spot over and over again. The slew of nonsense tumbling from your lips had him chuckling to himself between deep breaths as he exerted himself.

"So good you can't even talk, amore mio? Sí, no one can fuck you like I can, eh?" he taunted. "Say it. Say 'no one can fuck me like you can, Papa'!" he ordered.

"No one... can... fuck me... like you... Papa!" you cried, his titled coming out as a scream at a particularly hard thrust.

"Mine... you're all mine," he claimed, "Gonna fill you up, amore mio... Give you my seed to carry, make sure everyone sees you and knows you're claimed."

If his thrusts weren't already enough, his words were turning you on above and beyond anything he'd ever said to you before. Whilst you were your own person, and proudly so, you couldn't help the way hearing how possessive he was in this moment made you clench on his length.

"G-gonna... cum... Papa!" you yelled again, dangling on the edge, just a little too far from where you needed to be. He sensed you needed a nudge, his hand snaking around between the both of you and his fingertips rubbing over your sensitive clit once again.

"You'd like that hm? If Papa fucked you so hard, filled you so much with his seed everyone could see it? Everyone would know... They'd know I'd bred you so good, amore mio..." He was spewing utter filth, and it was having the desired effect on you...

"Papa..." you cried.

"Papa's here, amore... Papa's fucking you so good, eh? Fucking the damn antichrist into you!" he growled.

You lost control then, your cunt spasmed around him as you violently came around his length. He wrapped his arms around your chest, heaving you back against him with a hand gripping your chin. His hips continued to rut into you, fucking you through your orgasm as you gasped and reached for something, anything...

"That's it, eh? So good for me, cumming on Papa's cock like that... Just for me, hm?"

All you could do was whimper weakly as your body spasmed in his grasp. He held you so tightly against him, owning you, fucking into you over and over as he whispered filth into your ear you could barely pay attention to in your haze.

Before long, he was moaning wantonly in your ear and stuttering in his pace, a sure fire sign he was about to finish. With a little more clarity now, you figured you'd help him along.

"I-I'm yours, Papa..." you told him, "Devoted to you... Cum inside me, Papa. M-mark me... as yours..."

A fierce growl erupted from his chest, his fingers digging into your flesh as he tightened his grip, hips slowing but remaining powerful in a final few thrusts to prolong his climax. He filled you with his spend, so much you could hear the way it leaked from you with every last thrust he gave.

When he stilled, he buried himself deep and stayed put, tumbling onto the couch with you in his arms and holding you still so close to him. You stayed like that for a while, content being full of him and wrapped up in him all at the same time. Both of you needed a moment, just to catch your breath and come down from the immense high you'd experienced together.

After a while, Copia began to press kisses to your neck, little hisses in pain each time he did where his lip was bust and swollen. The blood on his head had dried but now the ache of the wound was starting to set in.

You turned your head back to him, assessing the damage finally and sighing.

"You should let me help with that," you told him softly. He nodded quietly, both of you now moving and separating from each other. Killing two birds with one stone, you decided a shower for the pair of you was the best idea, and so you both removed the remaining clothes you had on and stepped under the hot water together.

In a comfortable silence, you washed the blood and paints from his face, dabbing at the wounds while he took care of washing you too. You felt the stark contrast between the way he'd taken you earlier and the tenderness of this moment; in their own ways both made you feel wanted, loved, needed.

"Copia..." you whispered to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and stepping into him. "You know I'm yours, don't you?"

You hoped he really did, part of you was terrified he doubted your loyalty to him in any way at all.

"Of course, amore mio... And I'm yours," he told you, wrapping his arms around you too and enjoying the warmth of the water cascading over both of you. "Perdonami, I fear I was too rough, eh?" he chuckled insecurely.

"Not at all... I can't pretend it wasn't hot as hell to see a side of you so angry at the idea of me being with anyone else..." you smirked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, just above his '666' mark.

"That stronzo... I can't believe you dated that fucker," he scoffed, pushing your wet hair from your forehead.

"A past life, my love. I was under a spell back then..." you sighed. He hummed in thought.

"And now, you're under mine..." he smirked. You giggled happily as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a far sweeter, tender kiss.

[library-ghoulette]

Now There Is Nothing Between Us

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: second person POV, established relationship, VHS and chill, their first time, my kink is being loved and wanted, crying, reference to past heartbreak, hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual fantasies, pillow princess!Reader, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, p in v sex, coming inside (please fuck responsibly), Copia being tender, Copia fucking the self-doubt right out of you

Words: 2435

Summary: Anxieties about your first time with Copia rear their head at the worst possible moment, but luckily he knows just how to ease your fears.

A/N: I wrote this because I was stressing out about writing sex scenes for the first time in a long time, and I thought it might help to have my favorite Papa sweetly talk me through it. This was supposed to just be for me, but I'm sharing it for anyone else who needs a therapy session with their smut.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

“Amore mio, what’s wrong?”

The question takes you by surprise. You were mid-kiss when Copia pulled back, his mismatched eyes searching yours with concern.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” you stammer, reaching for him again, eager to pull him back in, keep his mouth occupied, so he can ask no more questions.

But he stubbornly avoids your advances, catching your hands in his and holding them between the two of you, restrained. He settles onto the pillow beside you, face-to-face.

“You think I know you so little that you can lie to me?” he asks. “That I can’t feel it when you’re all stiff?”

He pulls his shoulders up and grimaces in a comically horrified expression that makes you smile in spite of yourself, but still you say nothing, merely look down at where he holds your hands clasped in his much larger, much stronger, ones. He runs a reassuring thumb over your knuckles.

It was supposed to be a special night. At long last, it was supposed to be the night.

The two of you had gone from stealing glances at one another in the halls of the Abbey, to sharing friendly movie nights where you sat on opposite sides of the couch, both too timid to make a move, to significantly friendlier movie nights that devolved into heated kisses long before the end credits even rolled.

Each night, there would come a moment where the kiss would break, when a heavy pause descended and there came an unspoken question that you knew you had to answer.

Every night before, the answer has been no. You would remark on the lateness of the hour and go back to your own room. And there you lay awake, burning with thoughts of all of the things you could have done if only you had stayed. All the places where Copia could kiss you, could touch you, as you touched yourself.

But not tonight. This time, when that silent question made itself known, the answer had been yes. You had stayed, followed Copia to his bed, let him lay you down with a gentleness that spoke of brutal desire barely contained. Pressed yourself against him, returned his kisses, helped him shrug out of his sweatshirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head with obvious eagerness. You had thought that you were doing well, doing it right.

Apparently, you had been wrong.

Great. Now you’re on the verge of tears. Very sexy. Definitely not a surefire way to spoil the mood.

Copia is still looking at you, his unpainted face soft, searching, utterly open. You don’t deserve his attentiveness, his care. It makes you want to hide.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He kisses your knuckles. “You are maybe having second thoughts?”

“No! No, I– I really want to do this.”

“But something is bothering you. And we’re not doing anything until you tell me what that is. Until we fix it.”

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just let it go? 

“Tesoro, you can tell me anything. You know this.”

Copia has never given you a reason to distrust him, has never judged you or made you feel silly for any of your anxieties. Still, you struggle to put this into words. 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess?”

I sound so dumb.

“It’s okay to be nervous! Is this…”--he casts about for a tactful phrasing–”your first time?”

Satanas, it just gets worse and worse.

“No, it’s not my first time. But it’s been… awhile.”

“What’s the saying? Something about riding a bicycle?”

But in truth, it’s more than just the fact that it’s been awhile. Things did not end well with the last person you chose to share yourself with. 

You’ve worked so hard to heal from that relationship, not reinventing yourself so much as peeling back layers of hurt, finding yourself again bit by bit. You’re better now. But even after all of that healing, after finding your place here with the Ministry, after the wonderful surprise of falling for Copia, the scars of the past have a way of lingering.

Maybe the deepest of those scars is the lingering suspicion that no matter what you do, no one will ever truly want you or love you again. And worse, that you can’t trust anyone who claims that they do.

“It’s just.. I’ve imagined this so many times, and I guess I’ve gotten a bit too in my head about it. Wanting it to be perfect. And I’m afraid of doing something wrong. Of not”--and here’s the heart of it, the scary, vulnerable thing that you don’t want to admit–“of not being good enough for you.”

And now you are crying, when all you wanted to do was fuck your boyfriend like a normal person.

“Oh, topina.” Copia pulls you close, rolling onto his back to nestle you snug against his chest. “How could you ever think that you’re not good enough?”

“But you could have anyone you want,” you sob.

“You flatter me,” Copia chuckles. “But say that is true. I can have anyone I want. And where am I right now?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. And who am I with?”

You sniffle. “Me?”

“Yes, you. And there is no one else I would rather be with. You are so precious to me. I feel lucky to have you in my bed.”

Your heart flutters at his tender words.

“And what I want, more than anything, is to make you feel good. To give you the pleasure that you deserve.”

Something considerably lower flutters at that.

“Copia…” 

You wriggle out of his grasp and pull yourself up onto one elbow, one hand resting lightly on his chest as you bend to kiss him again. 

When you break away, he thumbs a stray tear from your cheek and insists, “But I only want to do that if you’re comfortable. So you have to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, yes?”

You nod down at him. “Yes, Papa.”

He groans low in his throat at your cheeky use of his title, the sound stoking something low in your belly.

“You said that you have been thinking about this night for a long time, tesoro?” 

His hand, resting against your hip, grips you tighter, drawing you closer against him. When he speaks, his words resonate with a note of command. 

“Tell me what you’ve imagined. Tell me how to make this perfect for you.”

This should be mortifying. It should, more than anything else he’s said tonight, activate your urge to run away, to hide. It’s been so long since you’ve really given yourself permission to want, to desire, much less to voice those desires full-throated, absent of shame. You’re so afraid of sounding silly. Of being too much.

But you can tell how turned on he is by you, by the way that your body feels pressed against his, fuck, by the very thought of you entertaining filthy daydreams about him. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

And so, you push past the shame you have no need to carry any longer, that you never should have been made to carry at all.

Even if you stammer at first. Even if you don’t sound as confident as you wish you did. You find your voice.

“I– I’ve thought about you touching me?”

Copia brings a hand up to caress your face, tracing a feather-light line from cheekbone to chin. “Here?” he asks.

“Lower,” you reply.

“Ah.” His hand trails lower, making you shiver as his fingers skirt along your neck, your collarbone, before finally cupping your breast through your top. “How about here?”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp when he squeezes gently, his thumb sweeping across your nipple. Almost as an afterthought he wedges one thigh between your legs. Even through fabric the contact sends a pulse straight to your core, and you can’t help but grind against him with a whimper.

“What do I do next? In your fantasies?”

“You take off my clothes.” You’re desperate to feel his skin on yours. “And– and you lay me down on the bed.”

He flips you over effortlessly and takes his time undressing you, carefully undoing each button and zipper, revealing your body bit by bit with utmost tenderness. When he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulls the silky fabric down your hips, your legs, exposing you completely, he does so with what could never be mistaken for anything but reverence.

Your legs fall open naturally and Copia kneels between them, resting his hands on your thighs, awaiting instruction.

“And now?”

You know that you can have anything you want, but only if you ask for it.

It’s everything you can do to keep your voice steady when you say, barely above a whisper, “And then you go down on me.”

“With pleasure, amore.”

Copia settles himself between your thighs and presses a hand against your mound, firm and grounding, acclimating you to his touch before spreading your lips with skilled fingers and bringing his mouth down to meet your slit. He runs the flat of his tongue up through your slick folds, lapping up your arousal. When you look down at him, he meets your gaze and flicks his tongue over your clit, smirking when you blush and cry out in pleasure.

And then he begins his work in earnest.

You had imagined that it would be good, but your daydreams left you unprepared for this level of skill, for how he would relax into the task before him with a patient eagerness, savoring you, taking the time to bring you ever closer to your peak. 

“Fingers,” you beg, barely coherent, “I need your fingers, please, please, Copia– oh!”

He finds your entrance and presses a finger inside of you, never losing the rhythm of his tongue tracing tight circles around your clit. You’re soaked, and it slides in and out with ease, and it feels so good to have any part of him inside of you, even before he pulls out and then presses back in with another digit, crooking his fingers up to find that spot deep inside of you, hitting it just so as he sucks your nub between his lips, and you’re crying out and twisting your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, and–

Your orgasm overtakes you ruthlessly, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking over you, leaving you a gasping, trembling mess in its wake. Copia crawls up your body to kiss you, letting you taste your own musky sweetness on his tongue.

“Do you want to hear what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks.

You’re unsure of your ability to speak, but you nod eagerly. You’ve never wanted to hear anything more.

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“M-my hands?”

“Sì, your beautiful hands. And how good they would feel wrapped around me.”

How could you do anything in that moment but oblige, reaching down to free him from the confines of his red sweatpants. His cock springs free, what seems almost painfully hard, and you watch with satisfaction as you pump your fist up and down his thick length and pleasure nearly overtakes him. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s clearly struggling to hold back, to stop himself from rutting into your soft palm and coming right now. 

“I’ve also been thinking about your pussy, dolcezza,” he pants. “How good it would taste. How pretty you would look playing with it for me. But mostly what it would feel like to spread it open and fuck it until you come around my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg, feeling as though you might die if you don’t get to feel him inside you right now.

The stretch is deliciously intense, even as wet as you are, prepared by his fingers and his tongue. He works himself into you inch by careful, patient inch, until he bottoms out with a groan.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and you nod your assent, whimpering a “yes” as you wrap your legs around his soft waist, urging him on.

You open more and more with each slow, shallow thrust that becomes faster, deeper. There is no room for your self-doubt anymore, no thought to spare for anything that isn’t Copia: his weight on top of you, his mouth against the side of your neck, the scent of his cologne mingling with the salty tang of sweat, the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside of you. 

He murmurs your name with what sounds like wonder, like disbelief that you want this and that you feel so fucking good.

And then he rolls his hips just so, finding an angle that grinds his pelvis into your clit, making you cry out sharply.

“Just like that,” you beg him, breathless, “please don’t stop, please—“

And then you are coming apart again, your head thrown back and your pussy spasming beyond your control.

It’s almost too much for him. He rears back from you, gathering you more firmly in hand, tilting your hips up and gripping your ass to hold you in place as he fucks into you, hard and rough. You’re still reeling from your orgasm as his pace becomes erratic, desperate, and with a sharp snap of his hips his cock kicks inside of you, filling you utterly.

He pulls out and collapses beside you with a sated groan, forearm thrown over his eyes as he comes down, chest heaving, spent cock softening against the curve of his belly. You fold yourself in under his arm, head pillowed against his chest again in a semblance of how you lay earlier as you cried. But now all you feel is love, comfort, and the pleasant soreness creeping through your lower body.

“Well, tesoro…” He settles his arm around you, tracing lazy circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. His voice is unspeakably fond when he asks, “Was that everything you imagined?”

It wasn’t, of course. Your daydreams hadn’t started with you crying awkwardly in his arms. In your daydreams, everything had run as smoothly as a scene in a novel, you the assertive heroine who always knew exactly what to say, without any help.

But maybe, you think, if Copia is the one helping you, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t need to be anyone but yourself, sometimes awkward and insecure, but no less beloved.

And so you are telling the truth when you say, “No. It was better.”

[rotdistressxox]

Headcanons: How the Papas treat you during your time of the month ♡

!nsfw undertones, afab body parts mentioned (obv)

Primo / Papa Emeritus I

• Knows when it starts and when it ends, he keeps a very close eye on those types of things. He even reminds you when it's coming up

• Has the most experience with this type or situation from the rest of his brothers because of his age.

• VERY Understanding

• Always there when you need to cry. Will try his best not to get on your bad side or tease you that often

• Constantly reassures you about your emotions.

• "My love, it's okay to be upset about (insert sort of dumb reason to be upset)"

• Washes your clothes when you accidentally get blood on them, you are NOT doing any physical labor on his watch.

• Will run you a nice bath with rose petals picked from the ministry garden.

• Will also read you your favorite book while you're in said bath.

• Gentle touches on your arms as he looks you in the eye to distract you from cramps.

• Spoils you rotten with kisses and whatever else you desire~

• Offers to give you other means of relieving pains. Wink wink

Secondo / Papa Emeritus II

• Is also very experienced with this

• Wanna talk about spoiled rotten? THIS MAN WILL GET YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT ON THE SPOT

• Use his body as a heating pad, especially his hands.

• The master at giving lower body massages to help soothe your pain.

• Kisses kisses kisses. He plants them everywhere when he senses that you need him.

• Will drop everything he's doing just to be with you for the day if you request.

• As the biggest and physically strongest papa, he will not hesitate to carry you anywhere if it gets that bad.

• Whispers romantic poetry in your ear while you take recovery naps.

• Also doesn't want you doing too much work, he'll send a Ghoul to watch after you whilst you do your daily tasks when he's busy.

Terzo / Papa Emeritus III

• Prepares your bed. Propped up and fluffed pillows, your favorite texture of blankets folded right there for you. Unless, you'd like to spend the night with him ;)

• The least experienced out of all the Papas. His experience with lovers have been great in quantity but low in quality as they're all usually 1 night stands or short flings. Until...he met you.

• Of course he knows what a period is, but he struggles at first with not knowing what to do for you.

• Gets the hang of it very quickly tho

• Flowers and more flowers. Surprises you with a new bouquet everyday of the cycle.

• Wants to make you laugh and smile as much as possible, so expect a bunch of corny jokes.

• Is that a frown he sees?

• "What's the difference between a glass of wine and an erection" "I dunno?" "You're not giving me a glass of wine right now" "PAPA-"

• Is gentle as possible with you, doesn't want to overdo the affection. Because let's be honest, on a normal day he'd be sneaking you passionate kisses every few minutes

• Expect your favorite dinner every night for the next few days, he's pretty good at cooking.

Copia / Papa Emeritus IV

• Even if you feel gross and ugly, you are still currently the sexiest thing ever to him. And he will definitely remind you of that.

• Does research on what to do, makes special plans for the both of you.

• Please, he also needs reassurance that you're okay. Otherwise he's going to be sweating his paint off worrying about you.

• Also a corny joke teller, they're more like dad jokes though.

• Gets food delivered for you. Unlike his brothers, he's a threat to the kitchen and not allowed anywhere near it.

• "Um...aha.... what size" gulp "what size- pu..ssy, do you wear?"

• Honestly he wants to know about what it's like experiencing it. So he always asks questions and is willing to learn more.

• Accidentally calls you his little ketchup packet, it made you laugh so hard that he thought you stopped breathing.

• Kisses and snuggles into your lower abdomen, he reallyyyy likes it when you're a little bloated because it provides extra cushion

• Literally melts when he sees you in your pajamas, cuddled up to a heating pad, and eating whatever.

Psst heyyy, thanks for reading my first post <3 ❤️

[copias-sewer-rat]

Naughty Presents: Papa Emeritus I x AFAB!Reader

Summary: During the holidays Primo isn't as busy taking care of his dear flowers, but that doesn't mean he isn't going to ensure that you are taken care of.

Words: 6K

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, use of sex toys (sucker, dildo, bullet vibrator, bunny vibrator, cuffs and nipple pincers), edging, orgasm denial, slight roleplay (just a bit), cunnilingus, afab! reader, p in v action, grinding, over stimulation, uncomfortable possition, aftercare, bad translated Italian.

Available on Ao3

Secondo (Ao3)

Terzo (Ao3)

Copia (Ao3)

Author's note: First day of the XXXMas at the Ministry series, a wonderful collab involving @ghulehunknown, @molly-ghuleh, @bupia and myself. Please stay tunned for their stories comming the following days, I will update this here story as they post so you can go read. Extra thanks to @bupia for her amazing job on the graphics that come along these fics, absolutely stunning.

It is peaceful. December in the Abbey has always been. The view from your room is pure bliss. Untouched white snow covering the gardens, the small lights from the streetlamps casting a warm tone to it, almost like clouds when the sun sets. At a distance you observe the greenhouse, the place where your amore spends most of his time, that is when he isn’t covering you with kisses and adoring your body. It feels melancholic now. There isn’t much to do now for him now and you know he is eager to return to his duties, his green thumb burning with desire to plant and to take care of his beloved flowers once again.

He has always had a gentle touch, putting all of himself into the things that he loves, his brothers, his flowers, you… Now that the holiday season has begun, Primo has come up with a plan to take care of il suo fiore preferito.

Sitting next to the window, very close to your bedroom chimney, you hear a shuffle. You had expected for Primo not to return for at least a couple more hours, having absented himself saying that he had an urgent meeting with his brothers about the New Year’s party. Maybe it is your imagination playing games with you, maybe you are hearing the crackling of the fire and falling asleep. You certainly feel tired, feeling too comfy in the pillow and blanket fort you have made for yourself. The warm silence fills the room once again and you close your eyes briefly. You begin drifting off to sleep without even noticing it.

The image of Primo pops in front of you almost instantly in your mind, and you feel the outside warmth spreading inside of you, making you blush as he stares at you lovingly. He is so handsome, you think. His shinny long white hair falling free over his face and shoulders, his painted face offering the warmest of smiles. Primo gets closer to you, enveloping your form into his, caressing your back with his long and skilled hands, slowly descending to your butt. He kisses your face, every inch of it and starts to travel to your neck, kissing your pulse as a moan escapes your lips while you feel his pressure on top of you. His kisses become more fervent, more desperate and you cannot avoid gripping the back of his shirt. You can feel him so clearly, his heat, his fragrance, — a mixture of his favourite tea and the herbal flowery scent that follows him everywhere he goes — his mouth leaving hickeys all over and then his sharp canines are biting into you with force, making you gasp and wake.

You jolt awake and a pair of hands grab your sides gently.

“Mio sole, are you okay?” Primo stands right in front of you, just as he had been in your dream. His hair falling in the exact same places, the same warm and content smile lighting up the dimness of the room. You wonder if you this is still a dream, but Primo grips your sides with more force as a response of your silence and you know this is the real deal.

“I am fine, caro. I just had a bit of a weird dream…” You confess with tiredness in your voice.

“Davvero? Would you like to tell me about it?” Primo asks, and a slight blush creeps to your cheeks. “Cuore mio, I heard your moans… I thought you were having fun without me, and that cannot be.” He smirks showing his teeth and the slight blush turns into a full-on red face.

“Well… It wasn’t without you…” You look at him, biting your lower lip.

“Ah.. now I am intrigued. Perhaps you might want to tell me while you open your presents?” You blink and see a lustful glint in Primo’s green eye.

“What’s this about? Dear, it is not even Christmas yet.” The question falls on deaf ears as Primo extends his hand for you to take.

You rise from your seat, leaving the comfort of your nest to follow your lover. His hand takes yours gently, rubbing his thumb over the top in a calming motion. There is nothing to fear, you know for sure, you trust Primo with your body and soul.

“Close your eyes, mio sole.” He says and you obediently oblige. “That’s it, amoruccio. Let me lead you and in the meantime, tell me about this dream of yours sì?” A couple of hands grab your sides to guide you, hands you would let do anything and everything to you…

“Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary…” Primo hums “you were kissing me, touching me all over…” He taps your hip, signaling you to continue “and then you bit me with force, probably making me bleed, but the pain felt… nice? Like it added to the general pleasure, you know?” You hear a small laughter coming from him, he is not mocking you, but there is something funny going on, probably related to your surprise, so you just hold your question for a bit longer.

With a few more steps you feel your surroundings changing. You are still in your shared apartment but you are changing rooms. Primo’s hands go up and down your sides reassuringly, and you giggle ticklishly.

“Mio sole, mi dispiace, please could you wait here for a moment?”

“Of course, caro.” You say, eyes still closed.

Primo moves away from you and you already miss him. You hear shuffling, rustling and clicking, which suddenly turns you into a ball of pure nervousness. ‘What is he up to?’ you think. The image you see with your close eyelids suddenly turns orange, and then you see orbs of light dancing around. You know where you are now, the clear image of your living room appears in your mind, the long green velvety sofa, the dark brick chimney, the tall bookshelves full of books and the enormous Christmas tree situated in the middle of the room.

From a distance Primo calls your name, telling you to open your eyes and once again you oblige. The sight you encounter is nothing short of mouth opening. Everything is exactly as you had pictured it but for all of the new details in front of the tree. Primo is there, dressed in a red Santa Claus outfit, without the beard that is as his makeup graces his beautiful aging features. But everything else is on point: the hat, the suit, the leather boots and gloves, he looks fantastic! That’s not the only thing that catches your attention though. He is seated on a chair you have never seen before, it almost looks like a throne, and around it there are several presents wrapped in beautiful paper, all of them decorated with neatly handmade bows.

Your mouth opens at the sight. You are no stranger to get surprises from Primo, but this is something else.

“What-What is this?” Words fail you, you are too in shock to speak properly and Primo gives you a low chuckle.

“I was in a festive mood and thought of a way to thank you for being you, so incredibly amazing and perfect you.” The blush returns to you once more. “Come close, Primo Claus has some presents for you.” You almost cannot process what is going on, but instinctively put a foot in front of the other and get before him. “Come on, sit on my lap and tell Primo Claus how naughty you have been this year.” He says with a low tone and you blink several times, raising your brow incredulously and pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. This is so out of character for him, which does not mean that it is not turning you on like hell. In fact, you can feel the wetness of your core staring to be bothering, your previous dream started the fire and now you feel like you are going up in flames.

The glint in Primo’s gaze is even stronger now, undressing you as if you were a present yourself, so neatly wrapped and ready to be teared up bit by bit. Agonizingly slow you sit down, holding Primo’s gaze as you do so, not intending to be the only one that is going to suffer tonight. You finally sit on his lap and wiggle a bit, trying to find a comfortable position, or that’s the lie you tell Primo when he asks you to stop teasing and that’s when you feel him already half hard under you. Once settled, Primo speaks:

“Okay, mio sole. Tell me, have you been good or naughty this year?” Trying to hold your laughter, you rise a hand and put it covering your mouth as if you were thinking very hard about it.

“Oh, Primo Claus, I think I have been very naughty this year…” You confess, your tone slow and sensual, trying to tease him as much as he is teasing you.

“Davvero? Tell me. What naughty things have you done this year?” Primo asks raising a hand and grabbing your chin so you don’t advert our gaze as you speak.

“Well, you see, my partner is a very horny old man and so we have done it everywhere, and I mean everywhere: the kitchen, the bedroom, this same living room in different areas, the bathroom, the closet, the gardens, the classrooms, the chapels, the confessional booths, his office, in some corridors as well…” As you continue your list, you feel Primo’s breath deepen, his heart beating faster and his cock getting harder.

“I get it, but lucky for you, Primo Claus does not reward people who have been nice, I reward naughty people… I get them as many presents as their horny hearts might desire. But you, amore, you are a special case because I want to try all these presents with you, right now.” There it is, that is what all of this was about, but you cannot complain. In fact, you are eager to follow along. The only proof that you need to know that you are going to enjoy this is Primo’s almost erect cock pressing on your butt.

“Really? Presents? For me?” You question with and innocent tone and doe eyes.

“Of course, I couldn’t leave my amore without presents…” Primo says as he leans down and grabs a medium size package, handing it to you with a toothy grin. “Open it!”

With shaky hands you tear the paper, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense when the first present is revealed: a couple of red puffy handcuffs.

“Primo? What-?” The question dies on you as he suddenly puts his lips on top of yours, kissing you fervently, his tongue entering your mouth, taking advantage of your surprised expression. His hands go directly to your back, holding you in place and yours travel to the back of his neck, leaving the box over your lap, toying with his platinum locks as he greedily explores your mouth.

“Amore, these presents are not my gift to you. Today, my gift to you is immeasurable pleasure. You are going to cum over and over on top of me, and I am not going to stop until I know that you are completely and utterly satisfied.” Primo says as he parts from you, his voice a whisper against your lips, and you gulp hard. “Do you want that, mio sole?”

“I do, please, Primo… I want it all.” You breath and he hums.

“Bene” With haste, Primo takes the box from your lap and opens it, revealing a pair of cute puffy handcuffs. They are red, which you feel he choose because of the holidays, to pair with his outfit. Discarding the box to the side he holds your sides and motions for you to stand up. “This is the only time you are going to stand up until we finish with this amore…” The look on his eyes is of pure lust, if he was undressing you before, now he is fucking you with his gaze. “Be good, undress for me.” Primo says, spreading his legs so you can see the bulge on his pants.”

Without a word, every piece of clothing gets discarded to the floor. Primo groans as he looks at you, grabbing his crotch to offer some comfort to his aching cock. He was sure that he was going to be hard during the whole ordeal, but he didn’t take into account how the dominance of it all was going to make him so fucking desperate to fuck you. Today, however, is all about your pleasure. He will find a way later to ease the need.

In a couple of minutes you are completely bare before him, the heat from the chimney not doing much as your nipples get rock hard in the winter cold. Primo eyes you up and down, his chest rising and falling slowly. A few seconds later he motions for you to get close and resume your previous position on his lap. Once settled he shows you the cuffs, opens them and lets you touch them.

“I want this to be pleasurable for you, my dear. If you don’t feel good or you want me to stop, please let me know, sì?” You nod with a smile, trying to look calm but you can feel yourself vibrating. The feeling of Primo’s hand on your back, the texture of the velvety suit all over your naked body and his breath hitting your neck are driving you insane. And he hasn’t done anything to you! “Arms back, amore, I am going to cuff you up.” Obediently, your hands are set comfortably at the low of your back, almost touching your ass. The cuffs restrain your movements but you don’t feel them tight, they are quite nice actually, the synthetic hair that covers them softens the rigidness of the metal and you appreciate that Primo has chosen this pair in particular. “Now that you are tied up you cannot open your presents, so I hope you don’t mind if I do it for you?” Primo asks with a grin.

“It is okay… I don’t mind.” It comes out in a whisper, almost out of breath as your chest rises and falls in anticipation. The power that he holds right now is making you feel so vulnerable, so small under him, but you love it.

Primo grabs another present, a bit larger this time. Setting it on your lap and tearing the paper. This time the present is a clitoral sucker. There is no pause as he gets the second toy out of its box.

“Papa, those toys come without charge, you know that right?” You ask teasingly.

“Good thing then that I charged every single one of them before I wrapped them, huh amoruccio?” ‘He is really committed, dear Satanas’ you think. ‘There is no escape from this one.’

Without warning he starts kissing your neck, licking that same spot you had dreamed about minutes earlier, now feeling absolutely real. His tongue is so hot, so wet and you regret having your hands tied up as you cannot touch him at all. As best as you can you wiggle to get closer to his body but he stops kissing you.

“Sì, be naughty if you want your present my love…” You face finds the crook of his neck and suddenly a click sound makes you jump slightly. With his free hand, Primo parts your legs and makes you recline slightly so he can have better access to your already dripping cunt. “Stay still.” You turn slightly to see the humming toy approach the place where you need it most. Your forehead is pressed against Primo’s neck, the anticipation building your arousal until he places the sucker to your clit.

The vibrations shake you instantly, the pressure to your clit immediately traveling through your entire body. Your legs feel like gelatin and you know you won’t be able to hold your first orgasm for long. The intense tightening of your abdomen getting more and more difficult to handle as the sucker deals with the bundle of pure lust in between your legs.

“Caro, please, if you don’t stop- ah- I am- I- am going to cum so fast, please… AH-” The scorching heat inside of your dreads to escape so quickly but Primo grabs your side, the feeling of the leather soothing you but doing nothing you alleviate the tension building up inside of you.

“I need to cum, Primo, please, let me cum, don’t take it away, please…”

“That cannot be, we have so many things to try… This was only the appetizer…” As the sentence is finished he takes the sucker from your clit, making you launch yourself forward seeking the contact of it. Gently, Primo holds you and leaves the toy on the floor, grabbing another package. You pant, the air does not stay in your lungs for long and Primo chuckles. “So worked up already huh? Hope you can take all my presents mio sole…”

Slowly, tearing up the paper once more of an even larger package, the third present is revealed before your eyes: a vibrating wand. Your mouth waters, the aching in your core needing it desperately and involuntarily your hips thrust forward, but you cannot move that much more being as restrained as you are. No words are uttered this time, Primo knows what you need and he is going to give it you. Once it is on, he gets the wand closer to your core, not touching it, but looking at it you can feel the vibrations all through you.

“Primo, please. I need it. Please, per favore, make me cum…” You shift slightly, rubbing his erect member, teasing as much as you can so he gives it to you already, but the plan doesn’t go as planned when he withdraws the toy from the proximity of your core.

“I told you to be naughty, not a teaser my dear. In the end, I am the one bestowing these gifts to you, you need to treat me good, sì?” Tears form in your eyes and you nod.

“Yes, I am sorry, I’ll be good.”

“Davvero? Then moan for me, my love…” Suddenly, the wand is pressed against your clit without a warning. The vibrations stronger than before, the tightening in your abdomen quickly approaching as you moan for your lover.

“Primo, ah- ah- fuck! So good! Don’t stop please, don’t- I- I am going to cum! Please keep-keep going, ah- fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Do it for me my dear, cum now for your Papa…” and oh Satanas, you do, so hard. Your whole body spams on top of him and you involuntarily rub your ass against his hardness, making him moan as well. “Cazzo, my love, that was powerful… you feel so good on top of me, fuck!”

Trying to regain your breath, Primo turns off the toy and leaves it next to the sucker. Immediately after another package is on his hands while you try to compose yourself back.

“This is a special one, we haven’t tried something like this before, but you are going to look so good with it on…” He says, breaking the paper on top of your lap once more.

The toy in front of you is not familiar to you, but the form tells you everything you need to know. The picture in the box shows a necklace supporting two chains that end on some type of pincers, and you blush instantly. He takes it out and puts the velvety choker around your neck as if it were the most beautiful diamond necklace. Then, he grabs the two pincers and shows them to you.

“These won’t hurt, but if you feel too uncomfortable, please, let me know.”

“Okay…” You say in a low tone, almost embarrassed of how easily Primo can make you tremble so much while being so gentle with you.

“MMMMMMMMM!!!” you hiss from the contact in pleasure as he pinches one of your nipples, rubbing your core against his leg in response, coating it all with your juices. His eyes go wide open, he had never heard you moan like that. Then, he goes for the other and now you scream from how the pinch-y feeling on your very sensitive nips is making you want to choke on Primo’s cock. The pressure feels so nice against your swollen nips, but you need so much fucking more. You continue rubbing yourself on the velvety fabric of Primo’s pants, chasing your pleasure once again. Primo lets you move briefly, the chains around your chest and your reddened nipples have him hypnotized, how they hug your body, how the metal slaps your skin and gets stuck where you are sweating. The beads of sweat mixing with the shinning metal and the swollen and slightly bruised skin, all that combined with your desperate motions and sounds…. he wants to fuck you senseless, no, he needs it. You are his present and you just got a nice little bow to go along how fucking sinful you look right now. His cock rubs slightly against your ass and he doesn’t stop you this time, he needs some type of relief, but he doesn’t want to be greedy. This is entirely about you, he remembers, so he reconsiders and grabs your shoulders, stopping you instantly.

“Cuore mio, as much as I would like to fuck you until you could not move for a few days, e credimi, lo voglio, cazzo… This is about you…”

He is so cute, he really wants to prioritize your pleasure, but you have other plans. You don’t really want to do have all the fun alone, even if he is the one administrating your pleasure, Christmas is about sharing after all.

“Give me another present, I crave it. I need to cum again… Primo please…”

“Peccaminoso Satana, I am going to give you everything you need…” Primo grabs present number five and tears the paper without hesitation. This time it is a normal bullet vibrator.

“This one is just to get you ready for the rest, love, we won’t be using it as much…”

As Primo gets the vibrator closer to your opening you cannot avoid the shiver that runs through your spine. The over stimulation of your first orgasm still sending waves of pleasure and spasms all over your body. Involuntarily, trying to avoid the contact with the toy, you wiggle backwards on Primo’s lap. Noticing your sudden attempt to flee he tightens his grab around you, keeping you in place.

“Love, you have to be brave. It was only one orgasm… I know by experience that you can give me more. Per favore, permettimi di farti venire…” There is no need for you to understand what he is saying because you know and your core twitches in delight, the over stimulation from before turning once again into the need to be filled and taken care of. So, silently you buckle your hips forward once more to the same position as before, your cuffed hands pressing on Primo’s thigh, making him shiver under you. He is so desperate for any type of pressure that the sightless touch from his amore makes him jump.

Accepting your fate, you fold your knees and spread your legs open, letting your cunt free for Primo to see. From his position, he can see your folds glistening, your clit engorged and red and your entrance so deliciously looking, so ready to be fucked. Primo licks his lips, he is so thirsty for you, he just wants to put his face between your legs and eat you out like the most delicious Christmas feast. Then, he catches you looking at him with puppy eyes, you have been left there waiting, how rude of him, he couldn’t never deny you anything.

Primo opens his legs slightly so your butt leans on the more than spacious throne’s cushion, which makes you fall back, but thankfully Primo’s gloved hand pushes on your back slightly, placing itself on the broad of it. When he looks at you for confirmation for him to continue you nod, and he guides the bullet dildo to your entrance. When it finally goes in, it opens your folds with a wet sound that makes you moan. The toy isn’t specially big, but its coldness, the pressure on your nipples and your previous orgasm makes it feel so fucking good. Primo follows a rhythmic pattern in and out, in and out, your core sucking in the toy with ease… maybe too much ease. You need something much bigger, Primo thinks, something that opens you up just like his cock does.

With a pop sound, Primo gets the dildo out of you and in return you mewl sweetly, begging for its return. You are so horny, all this teasing, this denial, the anticipation and even the slight feeling of despair, it is making you so fucking horny. You just want to be fucked over and over and over and over.

As if reading your mind, Primo gets another present, the biggest yet. He catches you looking at it and rises the still wrapped package. As he does so, you take notice of a folded piece of the wrapping paper that hangs loosely. Straightening your back and using only your teeth, you grab the paper and go down, tearing it open with your mouth. Primo observes attentively, his aching cock more and more in need of attention. Waves of memories come back to him of you using your mouth so sweetly and skillfully on his leaking shaft. He thanks the Dark Lord every single day for bringing you into his life, filling every single aspect of his life with your light and your warmth, you are his sole after all, and he will ache for you forever.

The next present is a bunny vibrator, also red, Primo has really committed to the holiday theme. Your mouth waters, so ready to feel what Primo has to offer. As a token of your appreciation you kiss him, hot and sloppily, trying not to fall from your position and he reciprocates eagerly. Every movement you do, every look, every moan it is driving him closer to the edge, and now… this…

While kissing you, he positions the dildo to your entrance, getting the clitoral vibrator also in its place. When he turns it on you moan in his mouth, clenching your hands on his thigh, feeling the waves of shock on your swollen clit. Primo takes the chance of your open mouth to bite your bottom lip and enter you with the dildo at the same time and, oh, you could die right there and then and thank Satan for this wonderful gift of lust.

“FUCKING HELL, PRIMO! l-love! It is so good! ah, mmmm” You scream once he let off your lip. The wet sounds of your walls sucking the dildo are music to Primo’s ears. This is exactly what he wanted and yet… he feels like a fucking selfish bastard for wanting you to make those sounds because of his cock, not some toy. The whole point of this was to pleasure you, but he can do that himself. Now he feels a bit distraught, so he is not going to stop until you beg to be fucked by him, no matter how long it takes.

He doesn’t know, but that is what you want as well, you love how he is making you feel, how much he cares about your pleasure, but you also need him so deep inside you. “Aah, ah, ah, AGH AGH!” You scream with each pound into your core, every thrust deeper than the last. It doesn’t get as deep as Primo’s dick, but it is doing its job nonetheless.

“I am going to cum, holy shit, fuck, fuck, Primo-” He is about to loose it, your ass is grinding his cock, and he might cum just because of that. “Please, oh shit, oh fuck, fuck me, please fucking fuck me I need your cock, fuck!” You almost cry, the chains on your chest hitting your sweaty chest, your arms starting to go numb, it is all too much.

“I need to fuck you too, mio sole. But be good, cum for me first, sì? I want to see your pussy clenching this fucking toy mhm? Think it is my cock, then I will give you the real deal.” The need for him to fuck you sends you into a powerful orgasm, one that Primo guides with the toy, putting more pleasure on your clit, making you even squirt all over his pants.

“Cuore mio, così fottutamente peccaminoso, ti scoperò finché non lo farai intorno al mio cazzo.” He whispers with a grave voice that makes you dizzy. You are spent, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you even regret slightly having asked Primo for more, because as you begin to breath normally once again he picks you up as best as he can and sits you on the throne. Not only that, but he unleashes your hands for a second before asking you to rise them over your head. With your limbs hurting you do as he says, grabbing the top part of the throne, and right there Primo locks your hands together again with the pink cuffs. Once you are settled, you observe a couple of unopened presents around you. Wow, you are really THAT horny for each other, huh?

“I need to see you, see the mess that you have made just for me…” Your legs hurt, everything hurts, but the need for Primo wins every single time. As best as you can you spread your legs open, letting them hang over the armrests of the throne. There, he sees your beautiful cunt, swollen, glistening with your release and he kneels there, smelling your juices. He is so fucking hard, but first he needs this, he needs his mouth on you, to taste how sweet your nectar is.

Primo dives right in, his hands at each of your legs, supporting your effort. His hooked nose bruises your clit in the most delicious way, and even if your body feels so tired, with a couple of licks from his skilled tongue you can feel the tightness in your belly starting to build up again. He drinks from you, his face pure lust as he looks at you, lost in your own pleasure, and you wonder how he is holding without touching his erection. He won��t strain from his path, right now being lost in your perfectly sweet cunt.

“Love, please, I need you buried inside of me, give me your cock, scoparmi… per favore, caro…” He needs nothing more. As a man possessed, Primo gets up on his feet and with a dark look starts to work on his pants, still drenched with your arousal and his paints messed from your juices, some of them probably staining your thighs and folds. A satisfied moan escapes his lips as the air of the room hits his cock. Right then you realize how bad he must feel. His dick is so red and swollen, the precum drenching his whole length, glistening like a melting popsicle waiting for a hungry mouth to suck on it.

“Quando lucifero creò il peccato della carne essi pensarono al tuo corpo e ai molti modi in cui poteva essere adorato. Sto per godermi di nuovo il suo dono come se fosse la prima volta, tutto per me.” He groans in quick Italian and you moan in return. You don’t understand a word but, by Satan, does it turn you on when he is so lost in his carnal desire that all that comes out is Italian praises and curses.

“Caro, please, please…”

“Come si desidera…” And with that he aligns himself, hissing from the contact with your cunt “Così fottutamente bagnato, così caldo…” and he goes in with a single motion, slowly, enjoying how your walls clench around his length. All the time he had been outside from you while you enjoyed your present it was killing him, he realizes that now. His place is inside of you, beside you, always with you, nowhere else.

He bottoms in, hitting your cervix on the first try.

“Fucking hell, dear Lucifer… please, oh, please!” You don’t know what you are asking for at this point.

“Dammi un altro, so che puoi farlo, un altro per il tuo Papa” Primo starts to move at a quick pace, he knows he isn’t going to take him long to become undone and he also knows you will be undone soon as well.

There are no words between you now, just pure horny nonsense and the sound of skin against skin, wet and hot and fucking pornographic. Your hands hurt, your knuckles turn white from the grip on the throne and your head goes backwards, your eyes following to the back of your head. Primo grabs your thighs and rises your lower part, your back arching in a very uncomfortable way, but you don’t mind, this way he has a better angle.

He knows how to fuck you so well and you take it the same way, the stretch of your walls making you scream his name over and over so you just open your mouth in awe and close your eyes, lost in pure bliss.

“C-cum for me, mio sole. I am so close too, so… fucking… agh… close.”

With that there is no way of stopping your impending climax, and you do, once again squirting violently around his length. Primo pumps in and out of you, getting his cock almost out of you with every single thrust as he reaches his own orgasm then, his cum mixing with your own release, ropes of his seed flying to your stomach and ever your chest.

“Cazzo! So fucking perfect for me, the- the most perfect creature in the entire world…fuck……..”

Once he is done, Primo falls forward, letting go of your legs but still inside of you, his length going soft. Both your breaths are uneven, you are specially tired after so many earth-shattering orgasms. Sleep catching up quickly with you even in your uncomfortable possition. When Primo takes notice of you almost falling asleep from pure exhaustion, he collects himself, sets you free and lets the chain around your chest fall to the ground, making you groan as thanks, coherent words impossible to be formed right now.

Gently, he grabs your naked form, pulls you to your feet and accompanies you to your shared bathroom where he draws a warm bath to clean you whole. The steam and the warmth calm your aching muscles, making you almost fall asleep right there, but Primo doesn’t let you. He washes you, every single sore part treated with the upmost care and you thank the very day you met him because he is the best present you could have ever gotten. Clearly, he thinks the same as he tucks you into bed, kissing your cheek, looking at you with such love and affection, wishing nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side.

----

Italian translations:

amore: love

il suo fiore preferito: his favourite flower

mio sole: my sun

Davvero?: really?

Cuore mio: my heart

amoruccio: my little love

mi dispiace: I’m sorry

bene: good

e credimi, lo voglio, cazzo: and believe me, I fucking want that

peccaminoso Satana: sinful Satan

Per favore, permettimi di farti venire: Please, allow me to make you cum

così fottutamente peccaminoso, ti scoperò finché non lo farai intorno al mio cazzo: so fucking sinful, I am going to fuck you until you do that around my cock

scoparmi… per favore, caro: fuck me, please, dear

Quando Lucifero creò il peccato della carne essi pensarono al tuo corpo e ai molti modi in cui poteva essere adorato. Sto per godermi di nuovo il suo dono come se fosse la prima volta, tutto per me, sempre così buono per me: When Lucifer created the sin of the flesh they thought about your body and the many ways it could be adored. I am about to enjoy his gift once again as if it was the first time, all for me.

come si desidera: as you wish

così fottutamente bagnato, così caldo: so fucking wet, so hot

dammi un altro, so che puoi farlo, un altro per il tuo Papa: give me one more, I know you can do it, one more for your Papa

----

Taglist:

@megachaoticstupid @eternal-kosmo-ghoul @stephnthangss @sacred-coffin @her-satanic-wiles @bitchywitchygardener @da-rulah @m0rbidmacabre @fxnofthxngs @foxybouquet @oh-my-beel @allthisandtea @st4rving4in @deetz-ghuleh @redthefieryginger @sodoswitchimage @discountdemonwarehouse @molly-ghuleh @ghulehunknown @thew0man @megachaoticstupid @eternal-kosmo-ghoul @stephnthangss @the-did-i-ask

Please remember that if you I'll be tagging you on the rebblogs for my the fics of my mates so you don't miss anything, lots of love

[hypnoneghoul]

Have I used this joke already? Yes. Will I use it again? Absolutely.

KKEENNDDRICK!!! DROP ANOTHER DISTRACK (GHOUL ORGY) AND MY LIFE, IS YOURSSS /ref /pos

Oh please great father I BEG OF THEE

Not Alive For Anyone

WC: 3,1k

Relationship: Dewdrop/Mountain/Swiss/Phantom

Tags: Foursome - M/M/M/M, Transmasc Dew, Free Use (kinda), Cunnilingus, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Objectification, Anal Sex, Vaginal Sex, Pressure Kink (is that a thing?), Edging, Degradation, Creampie, Aftercare

Notes: Combining with a commission from @jazz-bazz :3 Beta read and edited by the lovely @mac-and-thefox <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

The rehearsal today was particularly hot.

The air conditioning went out and Copia ordered some people around so it would get fixed and they did, but it died again just as the band started playing the first song, to their collective annoyance. Papa was obviously frustrated, too, but decided to use this as an opportunity for them all to build up some heat resistance—as if they hadn't already played countless shows in horrid heat fully costumed.

This led to everyone being as snappy as they were horny, due to them sweating bullets and scenting the windowless room with it.

Dewdrop, though, had no issues whatsoever.

He does sweat, yes, but his fire nature makes the heat itself not much of a bother and still, the rehearsal was nothing compared to some shows they had played. So while everyone just wanted to get it over with and go shower and fuck, Dewdrop was having actual fun, as usual during a practice.

He doesn’t really understand why he got jumped by three of his packmates the moment he put his guitar away. He’s hardly ever going to say no to a casual orgy, though, so he didn’t protest being picked up and thrown over Mountain’s shoulder. There were fingers in his cunt and asshole before they even reached Swiss’ room. There he got thrown onto the bed and stripped with no regards to what he wanted or didn’t want.

He thinks he should be grateful that they decided to finger him open—just enough so he doesn't bleed when they spear him on two fat cocks. He’s on his hands and knees with his throat filled by Mountain’s cock as the earth ghoul licks into his cunt to loosen him up while Swiss is behind him, stretching his ass with near clinical precision; poking and prodding as if he’s nothing more than a doll to be inspected prior to using.

Oh, how Dewdrop loves being used.

“So cute,” Swiss hums, adding another finger to the two already nestled inside the fire ghoul’s warm hole. Obscene noise reaches his ears as the multi ghoul thrusts the digits in; Dewdrop has been leaking everywhere since Mountain has picked him up.

He has nearly forgotten about the fourth ghoul that’s in the room with them. Phantom is kneeling by Dewdrop’s head with a tight fist around his cock, slowly stroking himself to the sight of the fire ghoul choking on Mountain’s cock.

The earth ghoul wants to cum first before they really start so that he might have a chance of lasting for long enough. He never can on his first. Shooting down Dewdrop’s throat is a great way to start, indeed, and the fire ghoul’s enthusiasm when it comes to sucking dick is unmatched; Swiss knows he doesn’t have that much time to work him open because of that.

Sure enough, the multi ghoul pushes four fingers into him just when Mountain lets out a nearly guttural groan as Dewdrop makes him cum. Phantom keeps watching; he even dares to reach out, wipe a drop of cum that leaks out of the fire ghoul’s mouth with a finger and bring it down onto his own tongue.

Mountain stays on his back and once he gets the go-ahead, Swiss wastes no more time before grabbing the fire ghoul and sitting him on the other’s cock, hard again. Dewdrop doesn’t even have the time to register the fullness as he is being pushed down—back to Mountain’s chest—and then Swiss is moving Phantom to his liking, too. Suddenly he is sliding the young ghoul’s dick into Dewdrop’s cunt and bending the young quint over him so Swiss can prepare him for his own cock.

Phantom moans and drools onto the fire ghoul’s chest as it is his turn to get stretched out and treated like an object. His hips keep giving light twitches seeking friction instead of just sitting idly in the glorious place that is Dewdrop’s pussy, but Swiss allows no such thing. He holds him still with his free hand and threatens with his claws every time the quintessence ghoul tries to hump into Dewdrop.

“You’re gonna move how I want you to and that’s it, Phantom.” Swiss’ tone alone makes Phantom shudder and whine; it’s cold, the warmth and affection that’s usually dripping from every word Swiss utters is absolutely gone. The quintessence ghoul thinks he shouldn’t be as turned on by it as he is, but alas.

“Swiss–”

“No, shut up,” he snarls and Phantom moans in reply. Swiss chuckles cruelly at how much of a mess he is as he finishes stretching his ass. He smacks his cheek just hard enough to leave a mark before wiping his hand and shoving his cock into him in one swift thrust with no more preamble. Phantom whimpers at the sudden fullness and his own dick kicks where it’s still nestled in Dewdrop.

The fire ghoul himself is way past incoherent at this point, stuffed full and squeezed, and nobody has really moved properly yet. He doesn’t even pay much mind to how he thought it would be Swiss and Mountain fucking him; not that he doesn’t enjoy having sweet little Phantom in his pussy.

He really fucking does.

So if someone were to ask him how exactly he ended up in his current predicament, he would not really know how to answer. Don’t get him wrong, he is enjoying himself immensely, but at this point the others have him so brainless he genuinely can’t remember what led him to…all of this.

“How does his cock feel, huh?” Swiss asks, probably referring to Phantom. He can’t be sure considering Mountain is also buried inside him to the hilt, of course. Either way, they both feel divine. “Hm, kitten?”

“‘S good,” Dewdrop slurs, high on sensation already, and the multi ghoul grins as he thrusts roughly into Phantom where he’s glued to his back. That makes his own dick slam deep into Dewdrop’s cunt, filling him to the brim with the help of the big earth ghoul cock in his ass. “So good, fuck.”

Their position is rather complicated, but they are making it work.

Swiss grunts into Phantom’s ear with every thrust, sheathing himself inside him over and over again and making him do the same to the fire ghoul. The room is filled with filthy sounds of slick flesh against slick flesh and various noises of pleasure falling one by one from four mouths.

Dewdrop is the most lost one, of course.

He’s not really registering what’s happening anymore, he just knows he’s warm, full, and nicely squeezed; the waves of pleasure that are washing over him every second have him out somewhere by the orbit. His eyes are glassy with it and unshed—for now—tears and his pupils are blown so wide the embers of his irises are nearly gone.

Swiss regrets he’s too far to really look into these pretty eyes and see how empty Dewdrop’s brain is.

Mountain isn’t doing much at the bottom of their sweaty fuck-pile; he is holding both of Dewdrop’s wrists in the circle of one of his hands and toying with the fire ghoul’s clit with the other—not with the intention to help properly stimulate him, no. Mountain is doing it for himself, all but fidgeting with the little thing as Dewdrop’s wet hole squeezes his cock over and over again. The earth ghoul is simply content with being cockwarmed and occasionally clenched around if he flicks the fire ghoul’s cock in the right way or if Swiss makes Phantom hit that good spot inside him.

He nuzzles his nose against his shoulder and neck, licking over the scars that are left of Dewdrop’s gills and enjoying the smell he loves so much—of a bonfire that has just been put out with fresh water—being so strong right there. He thinks about what he would do if the gills were still there, how he’d lick inside and suck on the pretty fins surrounding them. Alas, he only worries the delicate skin of the crook of Dewdrop’s neck between his fangs and resists the urge to pierce it just yet; there will be time for that later. 

“Mounty–” Dewdrop moans; being beyond any words but their names. The earth ghoul in question presses a fang to a bumpy scar and chuffs in acknowledgement of whatever it might be that Dewdrop was trying to say. Not that it matters much, anyway.

Phantom is nothing more than a two-in-one dildo and a fleshlight as Swiss controls his every movement with a big, warm hand sprawled out over his chest—the other one dimpling the skin on his hip in a possessive grip. It’s Dewdrop that is completely immobilized and reduced to a whiny mess, even though the quintessence ghoul has no control over himself either. He loves it; he’s not even addressed as much as Dewdrop. Swiss is nothing but vicious and the only comfort Mountain has to offer—at least for the time being—is the fire ghoul’s to take.

They should have invited Rain, Swiss thinks. As far as he’s aware the water ghoul got snatched by the ghoulettes after the rehearsal, but Swiss can’t help but wonder how much more wrecked Dewdrop would get if Rain were with them. The power he has over the fire ghoul is something as impressive as it is scary.

They will definitely invite Rain next time.

Phantom’s moans are the loudest and the highest and Swiss absolutely cherishes them. He prides himself in being able to pull all those lovely sounds out of the young ghoul and he knows them so well by now he could categorize them precisely. That’s why he knows exactly when to shove his cock into him harder, when to do it faster, and when to pull out completely just to hear Phantom cry out for it, hating the sudden feeling of cold and empty.

But then Swiss slides back in and all is right in the world again.

Yes, all four of them are enjoying themselves immensely.

Dewdrop tries to arch his back against the onslaught of sensation but Phantom’s hands that are planted firmly on his chest and his—or rather Swiss’—rhythmic thrusts effectively keep him from it. The fire ghoul is literally stuck and he drops his mouth open in a wanton moan at the realization of just how helpless he is right now.

Phantom lets out a similar noise when Dewdrop squeezes around him and Swiss chuckles cruelly behind him. “Two little whores made for being used, how pathetic. Isn’t it, my love?”

Dewdrop’s entire body vibrates with the rumble that comes from Mountain’s chest. “I think it’s rather adorable. It’s like they were made just for us to use.”

He squeezes around the fire ghoul’s slim wrists for good measure; as if to show off just how perfect of a fit they are. Swiss chuckles and nods in agreement.

Dewdrop whines loudly and wiggles his fingers in an attempt to…they’re not sure, really, but the next sound that comes out of him is too close to a sob for Mountain’s liking. “P–please…”

The earth ghoul hums and both lets go of his wrists and pauses toying with his clit. He drags his big hands over Dewdrop’s small body, tweaking his nipples on his way, before he wraps them tightly around him. He squeezes the remaining breath out of him and drills his cock into his hole as the fire ghoul clenches around it at receiving even more of that grounding pressure he craves so much. He flops his half-limp hands back down and grips Phantom’s wrist with one and Mountain’s forearm with the other in a silent plea of keep me close.

Even though they were all happy to reduce him to nothing but a few holes for them to fuck for the time being, he is still their beloved Dewdrop.

“It’s alright, fire lily,” Mountain rumbles into his ear, “I’ve got you, make us feel good some more and it’ll be your turn, I promise.”

Seeing Mountain take on the task of assuring the fire ghoul’s comfort, Swiss smirks; intending to take his cruelty up a notch before they finish.

“Useless without us, both of you,” he spits out with another forceful thrust into Phantom. “Fucking each other and being fucked by us is the only thing you’re good for.”

The quintessence ghoul moans all whorish at his words; a slut for cruel degradation that he is. He pants hard with his head hung and his eyes glued to where Dewdrop’s cunt is being stretched open on his cock, leaking more and more slick with every thrust. It’s an addicting sight and feeling, truly, and Phantom feels a dangerous swoop low in his stomach.

“Swiss–Swiss, I’m…I’m close, ‘m gonna–” he whines as his body moves of its own accord to search for something that will bring him to his orgasm. Swiss, though, doesn’t let it get too far.

“No, you’re not,” he snarls, “not until I tell you.”

Phantom whimpers but there’s nothing he can do about it, really, and everyone involved knows he loves it.

“How’s it going down there, my love?” the multi ghoul asks Mountain. “As hot as up here?”

“Hotter,” he admits, making Swiss chuckle. “I’m close, too, darling.”

“Alright then.”

Swiss groans as he picks up his pace and slams into Phantom with enough force to make the entire bed rattle against the wall.

“You can cum,” he whispers into the quintessence ghoul’s ear and cums deep inside him, grunting. The feeling of the multi ghoul’s cock slotted right against his prostate and the warmth filling him makes Phantom grind into Dewdrop for the last time before he tips over the edge, too.

Dewdrop cries out as he takes his second load of the night. Mountain presses down on his stomach and lets out a growl as he feels Phantom’s softening cock and his own through Dewdrop’s flat tummy. The earth ghoul bucks up into him and finally allows himself to sink his teeth into his shoulder and then he’s gone, too, spilling into Dewdrop’s ass.

Phantom goes completely boneless once he goes down from his high, flopping down onto a very fucked out but still very desperate Dewdrop. He would cry and beg for them to make him cum if only he weren’t squeezed so hard there’s no breath left in his lungs. Swiss somehow holds himself up behind Phantom, pulling out as he breathes heavily and folding in on himself where he kneels.

He knows he’s the one who will regain his composure the fastest and that means he has to switch his semi-cruelty off and give Dewdrop his release; preferably before the poor ghoul drops and descends into real panic.

It’s easy for him to roll Phantom off of him, the bed is big enough so that he can pick Dewdrop up and lay him down next to the quintessence ghoul with Mountain still taking up the middle. The fire ghoul cries out in desperation as he gets manhandled and spread out on his back for Swiss to do whatever he wants to him. 

“S–Swiss, pl…please, I–I can’t, I need–please,” Dewdrop babbles, flopping his arms around as if he’s trying to claw his way to getting his release.

But he is completely at Swiss’ mercy; he couldn’t fight him even if he wanted to.

Maybe he does, a little bit—too brainless to realize how much gentler Swiss is now and that whatever he’s going to do is finally going to be for Dewdrop, not someone else.

The multi ghoul lays on his front in between his legs and cannot waste any more time—not only because of his affection for Dewdrop, but also the delicious display of the fire ghoul’s holes all puffy and leaking his packmates’ cum right in front of his face.

Dewdrop must be cleaned up, of course, so why wouldn’t Swiss do it with his tongue?

He descends and plunges the appendage deep into the fire ghoul’s cunt and he absolutely wails; loud enough to wake the dead, probably. Without ghouls bigger than him on and under him, Dewdrop writhes in oversensitivity. Swiss only holds his hips, keeping at least that part of him still enough so that he can enjoy his dessert.

Neither of them notices Mountain gathering Phantom up and off of the bed and taking him to the bathroom to clean him up. They’ll be done before they come back, surely, just in time for a post-coital cuddle pile.

It’s obscene how the multi ghoul eats Dewdrop out, alternating between sucking on his cock, licking Phantom’s cum out of his cunt and doing the same to Mountain’s in his ass. It’s all sloppy and Swiss is all but drowning, but he doesn't ever want to stop.

He will, though; causing the fire ghoul actual anguish is not the plan. Swiss lets go of his hips with one hand and brings it down between his legs. He pushes two of his fingers into Dewdrop’s asshole, his thumb into his pussy, and closes his mouth around his clit.

He sucks and the fire ghoul is gone.

His holes squeeze around Swiss’ fingers and his thighs around his head as slick gushes out of him and absolutely drenches the other’s face and neck. He pulls away immediately, knowing that after being edged for so long, Dewdrop would fall into overstimulation that much faster and that much more intense than usual.

Swiss rests his cheek on the inside of the fire ghoul’s thigh and breathes in the smell of sex hanging in the air; so beautifully concentrated just between Dewdrop’s legs. He’s gasping for breath, laying sprawled out like a wet noodle with no strength to move even an inch. Swiss rubs his warm hands over his skin, wherever he can reach, to ground him and help him come back down smoothly.

Swiss’ eyes close at some point, but he can’t bring himself to care; he’s comfortable snuggled between Dewdrop’s legs. The next thing he knows a blanket is being thrown over him—still there—and there’s another warm body cuddling up to him and the fire ghoul. Phantom shoves his face into Dewdrop’s tummy and wraps his tail around Swiss’ waist. Mountain joins them a moment later, laying down in the other direction and manhandling Dewdrop so that his head is pillowed on his stomach. 

Their position is rather complicated, but they’re making it work.

[kidstemplatte]

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

[lilspacewolfie]

Lazy Sunday Gaming

Content: 639 words, Copia x gn!reader, soft and sleepy gaming session with Copia, cuddling and snuggling, short and sweet, I wrote this on my phone on a sunday morning when i was half asleep please enjoy <3

“Merda…”

Copia’s whispered, breathy swear pulls you from the cloud you’ve been floating on this morning as you feel his chest dip. His thumping heart, which has been lulling you into a peaceful half-slumber on this lazy Sunday morning, has picked up a little.

“Dead again?” You mutter, narrowly opening one eye to see that he has indeed died again. 

Copia makes a soft, irritated noise and shifts his left arm, which has been curved loosely around you, so he can still hold the controller to the console.

The two of you had woken up early that morning, which on a Sunday, waking up any time before nine am might as well be considered a sin. You’d gotten about as far as coffee in bed before ending up back in Copia’s loving embrace. 

“It’s… this is impossible, amore,” he mutters, hitting the reload button and feeling the way the huff he lets out sounds with your ear to his breast.

“I did warn you the first time you see the T-rex it’ll scare the shit out of you,” you mumbles, smiling to yourself. “It got me the first time. The music makes the reveal too, you know?” 

“Sì, you did say. I should understand what you meant. I’m sorry if I woke you,” Copia presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

You giggle at that. He’d put on a brave face for it the first time the music started to kick in, but you know your Copia. Your soft, sensitive Copia. His voice sounds thick in his chest, his accent is more prominent when he's not fully switched on or used to speaking too much. You adore him and these private moments when it's just the two of you; when he’s just Copia and not Papa. 

The two of you readjust, rewinding your limbs together while you climb higher up his right side. You climb a bare thigh around him, humming at the sensation of the cotton burgundy sweats he favours, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He’d showered before making you both coffee, but the pleasant musk of sleep hadn’t quite left him yet. He always smells heavenly, dare you say, even delectable. Who needs breakfast when you have him?

You start moving your fingers beneath his shirt again, scraping your nails lightly across the pudge of his belly and through the curls of hair that cover his soft skin. Copia hums, his belly twitching at your touch.

“How did you play this when you were so young?” He asks and you close your eyes again when he strokes a hand through your hair while the game reloads. His bare fingers and nails graze across your tender scalp, sending warm tingles down your spine. This is bliss. 

“I mean… I was five so I died a lot, if that helps. Tomb Raider is a classic, I’m surprised you’ve not played it.” When Copia makes one of his usual noises, the kind of sound when he doesn’t know what else to say, you can’t help but chuckle. 

You open your eyes again, tipping your chin up until your noise is nuzzled into the side of his jaw. You press a kiss to the curve of his jaw and he sighs, swapping hands so he can reach up and stroke your cheek.

“You got this baby,” you mumble encouragingly. “Remember, the Raptors and Rex aren’t real and they can't hurt you.” 

You splay your hand up higher beneath his shirt, dipping into the valleys of his chest. Copia chuckles, kisses your forehead and you feel his focus locking in on the game once more. His drive is always something you admire, his grit and determination, even in the face of something that unnerves him.

These are Sundays you love. With Copia and the Rex, too.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[ghostchems]

Hello I have a request if you are still doing them :)

I would love to see where Cardinal Copia comes back to his room after an extremely rough day. He is frustrated and annoyed and just done with everything only to find his partner nowhere to be found. Eventually he finds her waiting for him in the bedroom in a new set of lingerie. She is ready and willing to let him take out his frustrations out on her in the best possible way. Spiciness please and thank you 😉!

this is spicy but there’s not too much other than ass kissing! still… 18+! mdni!

The Cardinal clenches his fist so hard that his leather gloves squeak against his palm. He curses underneath his breath before reaching for the knob to his sorry excuse of a room. After all of the time and effort he has spent building up the ministry and propelling it to success, leadership still could not offer him adequate furnishings. Another evening of returning to his mattress on the floor. A growl rips from his throat as he shoves the door open and slams it shut behind him, entering his dim room. The growl quickly gets caught in his throat, eyes widening once his gaze falls to you on said mattress.

You have white stockings on that clip into a white lace garter belt, no underwear, and a white lace cutout bra.

“Tesoro…” He starts, his voice dangerously low.

“Heard through the grapevine that it was a tough day,” you hum as you start to crawl toward him on the bed. Copia gives a shaky breath and comes toward you until he’s at the edge of the bed. He takes your chin with his gloved hand and tilts your head up so you meet his gaze, thumb dragging over your bottom lip. You want to touch him so badly but you know better — he is in control, you must wait for permission. His eyes are dark.

“Bend over.”

You shudder and do as he says, flipping yourself over so that your ass is in the air and your cheek is flat on the mattress. Copia takes in the sight of you for a silent moment before being unable to keep his hands off of you, fingertips ghosting along the straps of your bra. They travel down your smooth back, pulling you further back into him so the front of his cassock brushes against the backs of your thighs. A finger hooks beneath the strap of one of your stockings and he pulls at it, then lets it snap against your bare ass. You suck in a sharp breath.

“Oh, pet, you spoil me,” he sighs as he sinks down to his knees. His large hands rest on your butt cheeks, softly kneading them before giving them a squeeze. Your heart starts to beat faster in your chest, legs wobbling as you feel his nose ghost over the sensitive flesh. He presses his face into your ass cheek with a groan, pressing heated, open mouthed kisses along its curve, making his way over to the other one. Hands are now on either side of your hips, nails indenting your skin. Another groan rumbles up his chest as he opens his mouth further and takes a bite out of your ass.

You give a loud squeal and your knees newly give out beneath you. Copia chuckles against the soft flesh as he pulls away, fingertips brushing over the red bite mark, admiring it. He climbs to his feet and gives your other cheek a heavy spank. Your body is thrust forward just from the force of it, groaning as your face is pushed further into the mattress. This is what you expected after the day he’s had — he’s going to use you to relax and you’re going to do whatever he wants.

“Let us see how ready you are for me, hmm?” He purrs, one hand dipping between your legs. His slender fingers runs along your already damp folds with a hum of approval. One fingers slips inside and you shudder from head to toe, just the slightest amount of pressure enough to make your toes curl. “*Good girl,”* he whispers before bringing his finger up to taste you with a moan. You rub your thighs together and arch your back to press further against him, feeling how hard he is underneath his cassock.

A firm hand falls to your upper back and pushes you down, pinning you in place as his other hand grips your hip.

“You’ll be good for me, yes?”

“Yes, Cardinal.” You’re breathless already, giving another small squeak as he squeezes your hip.

“Always so obedient for me,” Copia coos, his finger tips lightly drifting down your back. “Now, I must warn you, tesoro.” His voice drops to a dangerous octave as he leans overtop of you, his lips settling against your ear.

“I, eh, am not feeling so gentle.”

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part IV]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 1.3k

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I TOLD YOU IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING! This is the last part! Thank you so much for reading this far, I hope it was an enjoyable read. Much love 🖤 xo Emery

[Prev]

Phantom returned a short while later, Swiss and Dew silently trailing him. The poor ghoul was absolutely overcome with grief. Once he found you in the driveway, he could immediately smell the putrid odour of the men who did this to you, their scents still fresh on your beaten body.

When he left the Ministry he had no thoughts but revenge. It was easy for him to pick up on their scent once he was outside, his abilities and senses heightened in his manic state. 

Swiss and Dew knew better than to interrupt a ghoul on a warpath, so they kept their distance, allowing Phantom to do what needed to be done. Sometimes his packmates had wondered how he ever survived in the pit, his trademark traits of being approachable and kind didn’t fly down there.

However, as his fangs elongated and his claws unglamoured, Phantom was quickly proving to all that he was a ghoul from hell after all; mindlessly pulling the first unfortunate soul apart with ease, Swiss and Dew watched proudly as the young ghoul forced the vile human to choke on his internal organs.

Phantom had begun his hunt.

Walking slowly back to the Abbey, Phantom began to come back to earth. His mind was riddled with thoughts of what he could have done differently; maybe he shouldn’t have skipped so many lessons with Aether to spend time with you, maybe he should’ve asked Omega more questions about what his Quintessence could do before he was sent away.

Lost in his thoughts, he began to weep. The thought of losing you and ultimately failing his older brothers, the thought of realizing you were his mate and never getting the chance to tell you. It was almost too much for Phantom to endure.

The blood smearing across his face as he wiped away his tears only made him cry harder. He was covered in as much blood as you were, the only difference being none of it was his. What’s done was done. He was a murderer now. No better than the vermin he just effortlessly dispatched. Phantom knew they would get a special greeting in hell, and that fact brought him a fleeting sense of relief.

He needed to see you one last time. He made his way back up to the main ritual room where he knew Copia would still be with you, but he never could’ve imagined what would be waiting for him once he got there. Rain and Mountain were already inside, the arrangements long forgotten. Dew and Swiss made their appearances known as they stepped behind the young ghoul who had been stopped in the doorway.

“I need to see her, Papa. Please. Just once.”

Copia silently signalled Dew and Swiss closer. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Excuse me?” The fury in Phantom’s eyes quickly returned.

Copia knew better than to get in the way of an angry ghoul, learning his lesson as a child growing up with Alpha, but he stood fast. “Phantom, there’s something you need to know–“

However, the young Quint was hearing none of it as he pushed past Copia and wiggled out of his brothers' grasp.

What he found as he entered further into the room was exactly what he expected: you. What he didn’t expect to see was you… alive? This must have been a dream. He shut his blood stained eyes once, and then twice. You were right in front of him, now sitting between Rain and Mountain in the same place he watched you die - where he felt you die.

What he felt now was something familiar, yet completely new.

Rain had already washed the blood off your face and found you one of the ghoulette’s spare outfits while Mountain had tied up your hair in a ghoulish fashion. Phantom’s brain couldn't compute what he was seeing as he moved cautiously toward where you sat on the ground, still too weak to stand.

Your skin had turned to a violet grey, similar to Phantom’s. Your nails had grown into beautiful claws, and fangs extended where your canines used to be. Your hair turned to a dark blue that almost matched Rain’s, with lighter patches of skin decorating your hairline and cheeks like scales. Phantom noticed your ears were sharp and pointed like Dew's, with the skin at the tip a dark red.

Phantom fell to his knees in front of you, speechless and in awe.

“How–” 

It was like he was looking at an angel gifted from hell. You were one of them now. His beautiful ghuleh, with pieces of all the brothers who helped save you.

When you looked up at Phantom from your place between the two ghouls (who were now your brothers too), Phantom couldn’t contain his tears any longer. Though these were not the tears of sadness and grief from before, these were tears of bewilderment and relief. He didn’t notice at first, but you had the same lighter patch over your eye as he did. Your left eye was a gorgeous shade of ice blue, contrasting the darker grey of the other one. It reminded him of Papa.

“Phantom?”

You were taken aback slightly at the sight of the friendliest ghoul you knew, kneeling in front of you covered in blood from head to toe. He chuckled slightly at the lisp you had when you called his name, not used to your fangs yet. You had extra long ones too, thanks to Swiss. If he was in any other situation, Phantom would've found it incredibly hot.

“If I had known, I would’ve washed up.” He said, looking down at his bloodied attire. His brothers moved aside so Phantom could wrap you in a hug that he never wanted to leave, eager to have your new scent permanently etched onto his soul. “I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, your newly heightened senses almost becoming overwhelmed with 5 ghouls and Copia all in the same room. However, if you focused on Phantom, everything felt calm and quiet. You felt safe, wondering if this is how he felt every time he was with you.

You didn’t really know what happened. One minute you were struggling to breathe outside after getting ambushed, the next you had died. Rain and Mountain gave you the Coles notes version of what happened when you awoke. None of which you remembered. You don’t remember much of your time in the pit either. There were ghouls everywhere and it was warm, but not unbearable like you had come to fear it would be. There was one thing you did remember from your time down below though…

“Hey,” you said, as you pushed Phantom off you to look him in the eye. Normally that would’ve been impossible, but you’d worry about that weirdness later. “The devil says Happy Birthday.”

Phantom smiles wider than you have ever seen and places his forehead on yours before desperately, but lovingly, crashing his lips on yours.

“Let’s see Jesus do THAT.” Dew blurts out, completely ruining the tender moment, but not a soul in this room could care as everyone lets out a laugh.

“My dear ghuleh,” Copia says softly, approaching as Phantom helps you to your feet. “You don’t have to choose right now, but in light of your new situation, if there is perhaps a new name you feel is better suited? I can make arrangements on your behalf.”

“Eris.” You spoke as you leaned into Phantom’s touch. “Like the goddess of chaos, cause that’s exactly how this all feels.”

Copia smiled warmly, “Then welcome back to the Ministry, Eris.”

Standing behind you, Phantom cradled you protectively in his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s perfect.”

Copia and your new family left you to get reacquainted. You returned the affection as you twisted to hug your lover once again, relishing in the sweetest scent you had ever experienced as you began to involuntarily rub your cheek over his chest. You were starting to realize what the ghouls meant about the scent thing, Phantom’s was intoxicating and you never wanted to leave. It was like he was made just for you.

“So… I guess no cake then, huh?” Phantom snickers as he leaves soft kisses behind your ear before continuing down your neck.

You quickly pulled away from his embrace. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

His hands interlocked and rested along the base of your spine. His amused gaze lovingly met the look of disappointment on your face before you let out a frustrated ‘ugh!’ and headbutted his chest.

“Ow!” He yelped. “Sweetheart you’ve got horns now, and apparently Dew gave you some flippin’ pointy ones too.”

“Oops.”

You looked up at Phantom sympathetically, your tail suddenly making an appearance and wrapping around his leg.

“You got my tail though,” he winked.

“My darling ghoul, you have all of me. My heart, my life, and my love, eternally.”

[Prev]