#hi I’m back! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

violet-lazer · 2 years ago

Text

Returned Favour

Content / Warnings : EXPLICIT 18+, Copia/Reader + Aether/Reader, Gender-Neutral Reader, Cuckolding-ish Content, 2.3k words. Thanks, please enjoy! (AO3)

The notion hadn’t come from nowhere. It was a culmination of all those teasing observations and risky jokes between the two of you; your wry comments about Copia’s fondness for Aether compounded with Copia’s swift retorts about your wandering eyes in the ghoul’s presence. Possibilities hinted at but previously unspoken, until he’d broken the news of his impending absence. Jokingly, you’d complained about how devastatingly cold and empty the bed would be. And then you’d turned to face your lover and found him regarding you with the most curious expression.

(Or: Copia has left you in Aether's care while he's been away. Upon his return, he wants to hear exactly what the two of you have been up to.)

“How many times did you fuck him while I was away?”

Copia’s breath is searing along your neck as he purrs into your ear from behind. He has you pressed against a wall in some dark, quiet corner of the Ministry, his weight anchoring you in place. You’d barely heard him approach before you felt gloved hands on your hips, pushing you forwards; scarcely had the time to brace yourself against the wall with your palms. The stone is harsh, cold against your skin, at odds with the heat already pooling in the pit of your stomach. But. Enough of that. He asked you a question, didn’t he?

“I don’t remember,” you confess, mind suddenly, genuinely blank.

“I told you to keep count,” Copia says, tone low and dangerous, lips brushing against your ear. “I told you that for every time he fucked you, I’d fuck you twice.” He drives his hips forwards roughly and you can feel him hard against your back.

“So, how many times?”

Hmm, no, your power of recollection isn’t getting much better with his cock pressed up against you. Distracting, if anything. You’d rather not make up a number, but you’re also aware of the urgency of the situation and how criminally unerotic your hesitation is. Copia sighs.

“The first day?” he prompts.

The first day. You remember-

“Once,” you say, voice trembling with your divulgence. Thirteen days ago, twelve short hours after Copia had left for some hideously tedious Ministry training event, you’d fucked Aether in the bed you and Copia shared.

Copia hums, releasing his grip and letting his hands trail across your stomach. He gets to work on your vestments, slipping his fingers through familiar layers of fabric to allow himself access to you.

“Very good,” he says. “Where?”

“In our room,” you say, head falling onto Copia’s shoulder as he makes skin contact. His gloves are warm on your thighs as he inches a path upwards and inwards at a pace so torturously slow you could cry in frustration. You weren’t expecting him tonight, he was due home tomorrow morning. Lucifer, he must’ve been prowling the halls looking for you. The thought of him stalking the corridors, aching with the desperation to back you into a corner sends a shiver through you.

“In our bed?” he growls, fingers almost, almost dipping underneath the band of your underwear.

“Yes.”

Copia exhales sharply. In one swift motion, he grabs your hips and pulls you backwards, away from the wall, grip firm enough that you don’t even attempt to turn around to face him. Pity. Imagining Copia’s expression isn’t enough as he shifts your underwear down your thighs. The touch of his gloves is soft on your skin, and your heart hammers.

“Bend over,” he says, “and tell me what he did to you.”

Obediently, you stretch forwards, fingers finding the wall before you. You’re exposed, here, heavy with the need to be touched, to be filled. Silence hangs in the air. Copia’s waiting for you.

“He…came to see me after dinner.”

Your cheeks are burning. It feels wrong to be telling him this, as though it wasn’t an arrangement Copia himself had suggested, as if the idea hadn’t sent a riotous thrill of arousal through you the moment it had fallen from his lips.

“In that case…”

It had been flattering how quickly Aether had agreed to take care of you. As the three of you hashed out rules and boundaries, Aether had let his eyes rove over you with a shamelessness that had sent heat coursing simultaneously to your face and to the pit of your stomach.

Copia had noticed, of course; the urgency with which he’d bent you over his desk once Aether had departed betrayed his enthusiasm for the arrangement. In retrospect you probably should’ve taken a minute to relocate the paperwork he’d been working on before your meeting, but you know what they say about the throes of passion. To Copia’s credit, he’d managed to present the…lightly worn papers to Sister Imperator the following day with a decently straight face.

Still. Actually recounting the explicit details of your affair to your partner is another matter. But Copia wants to hear it, and you, aching with desire, want Copia to rail you into next week. So, you gather your thoughts and continue. Get to the good part.

“Ah, we talked for a bit? Watched that show he likes, the one where the cat solves crimes? Fuck, what’s it called-” It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what it’s called. Copia hasn’t said a word. You shake your head.

“Anyway. We were talking, just sort of sitting on the bed. No pressure, like we said. And then he just looked me in the eyes and asked me if…if I wanted him to fuck me.”

“Don’t move.”

Copia releases you once again, and you hear the shifting of fabric as he gets to work on his own clothes. Fuck, you want to see him. It’s purposeful, the way he hasn’t yet touched you where you long to be touched. And look at you, so worked up by anticipation alone. So easy. Speaking of anticipation, what you hear next commands every last ounce of your attention. It’s a sound you’re well-acquainted with, the distinctive pop that accompanies the cap of his favourite lube flicking open. In agonising silence you wait, mind filling in the blanks of what you can hear occurring behind you. Oh, you wouldn’t give, now, to turn around, to see Copia stroking his cock slick, eyeing you hungrily. When he leans forward to speak again the head of his cock bumps against your thigh. Wet. It takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to sink backwards onto him. His breath ghosts over your neck.

“And then?”

And then, heart hammering, you’d looked Aether in the eyes and said yes.

“I said yes. And he fucked me into the mattress.”

Copia growls, grip tight on your hips as he buries his cock into you. You gasp as you’re rocked forwards, feeling the stretch as he pushes himself to the hilt; you brace yourself against the wall to stop your knees from giving in. Hips flush with yours, Copia pauses to let you acclimatise.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” Copia murmurs. “Not even a day, hm?”

Slowly, he withdraws almost completely, pausing when the head of his cock is threatening to slip out of you. You’re longing to impale yourself on him, but know better than to rush Copia when he wants to lead. The rewards for your patience are unfailingly spectacular. Copia hums.

“How was he?”

You open your mouth to respond but he chooses the moment to snap his hips forwards, leaving your first attempt at syllables somewhat of a write-off. No need to look at him to know he’s smirking down at you. Copia sets about fucking into you at a languid, steady pace, exuding the energy of a man who has all the time in the world to rail a confession out of you.

Oh come on, as if you can be expected to answer in this state. How was Aether in bed? You’ve had two weeks to become intimately acquainted with him, to sate the curiosity that’s been simmering within you. Out of the sheets, Aether is conscientious, considerate, by Copia’s side at a moment’s notice. Even before you’d become involved with Copia, you’d enjoyed any brief interactions you shared with Aether; he’s a common sight around the Ministry with a reputation for appearing out of nowhere to lend a hand when Siblings are struggling to carry their books, or when a shelf needs to be put up. There’s a rumour he can hear the sound of someone failing to open a jar from a mile away.

And he fucks like an absolute demon. Of late, your bedroom routine has begun with strong arms pushing you gently onto your back, with Aether fixing you that enigmatic gaze as he undresses you with deft fingers. When he screws you- head buried in your shoulder, teeth nipping at your neck- it’s with a confidence and unrelenting tempo that empties your mind of everything other than the overwhelming sensation of his cock pumping in and out of you. Still, it’s obvious he’s being delicate with you- holding back, checking in, making sure it’s not too much. The idea that he could absolutely destroy you if he wanted to makes you ache. So. In short, he’s a dream.

“He was good,” you say, breathless, feeling like your knees might be about to give in. “Good with his mouth.”

Almost immediately, you feel Copia slow down. Ah. Not the mouth. Copia’s source of pride.

“Better than-?” he begins, before catching himself. It’s a slip, and you both know it.

“No.”

It’s not a lie. Nobody knows how to get you off with their mouth like Copia does. How could they? Copia begs to go down on you, a man possessed, as though making you come is his singular, godless purpose. He’s spent hours on his knees working you undone, and oh, what a sight he is to behold from that vantage point; mouth full of you, paint ruined, cock leaking. He presses buttons you didn’t even know you had.

“Of course he isn’t,” Copia says.

Leaning forwards to kiss the back of your neck, he resumes the movement of his hips and works his way up to speed. Oh, you’ve missed this, the wet slap of his skin against yours, the moans that remind you how perfectly you please him. The heady rush of knowing his lust is entirely for you. On another note, your attempts at keeping your voice down are becoming more and more insipid. It doesn’t escape you that someone could come around the corner at any time, but it’s becoming increasingly hard to care. Let someone catch you, full of Copia’s cock and whimpering into your own shoulder. Let them see their Papa claiming what’s his. Tonight he’s relentless; every deep thrust stoking the fire inside you, your building orgasm surging in the pit of your belly. Ordinarily, Copia would have ensured you come first, would have had you undone before he thought about pushing his cock into you. Not tonight. He must be desperate.

“And-” he’s getting more fervent, hips bucking forward raggedly- “Did you let him finish inside you?”

“He fucked me full of cum every day you were gone.”

“Fuck.”

Lucifer, you can feel your release winding between your thighs- just a bit more- but you know Copia’s going to beat you to it. Rocking against him, you will him- dare him- to come, to fill you until you can’t take any more. With a few short, erratic strokes, Copia falls apart; he spills into you, panting against your back. As his breath evens out, he slides out of you, releasing his grip on your hips. Finally, Copia guides you to turn around to face him. When he meets your eyes, you’re rewarded with a tender smile. Oh, you’re still aching with desire but are almost bowled over by the wave of affection that crashes over you. Copia.

He leans forward and kisses you deeply. You soften, settling against the wall, hooking your hands around his neck to bring him closer. When you break apart, Copia lifts a hand to caress your cheek.

“I missed you.”

“Welcome home,” you reply; shamelessly, hopelessly, smitten.

“Ah, forgive me,” he says, brows knitting into a frown. “It seems I could not control myself, hm? Undone so quickly. And look at you, still suffering…”

Copia nudges your legs apart with his knee and grinds into you, eliciting a soft groan. He hums, pleased. “Allow me to fix this.” Slowly, his fingers trace your thigh, gloves gliding upwards almost frictionlessly.

You nod, reaching up to take his face between your hands. The combination of sweat, lube and cum cooling on your skin is threatening to become unpleasant; it must be past midnight and the central heating situation in the Ministry was absolutely dire in these connecting corridors.

“Let’s go to bed,” Your thumbs brush his cheeks as you look him over, taking in every inch of his handsome face, reacquainting yourself with every line, freckle and feature of your Copia. Two weeks was too long. “I’m fucking freezing.”

“Mm. Yes.” Pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, he dutifully helps you right your clothes. His hands idle a bit too long when he’s readjusting your underwear, but you let him off. He pauses, eyes wandering over you, taking you in. His gaze lingers on your neck.

“Did he take care of you, love?” Pulling your collar aside, he examines a fresh bruise- the one Aether had called a little something to remember him by- and presses a kiss to the tender flesh. You shiver.

“He did.”

“Good. We will thank him tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah. Maybe he kept count.” Copia laughs as he takes your hand, pulling you away from the wall and beginning to lead you towards the bedroom.

“It was quite the ask, I admit. Instead…” He quirks an eyebrow. “Perhaps the two of you can show me what you have been doing.”

#hi i’m back!#the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv

126 notes · View notes