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deakyjoe · 1 year ago

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Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

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the-blue-countess · 3 months ago

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Primo headcanons that aren’t ‘old man doing old man things’

(I love those, but we as a fandom - bandom, I might say - need to remember how batshit he was)

- starting off simple, Primo unironically loves the Beatles (it started out as a way to piss off Nihil in the sixties, but now it’s a genuine appreciation)

- refuses to use electricity most of the time, would rather smack into walls by candlelight than embrace the clinical and frankly ugly modern lighting.

- hates humanity, especially after basically raising Secondo and Terzo while Nihil did whatever he wanted. He loves his brothers, who are a bit of a soft spot for him

- adding to this, I believe that canon cryptid Primo and loving older brother Primo can both exist - He was the best older brother, careful and loving, often acting in a manner perhaps a bit more subdued than normal. Primo embraced his more caring traits when with his brothers, ensuring their happiness as best he could regardless of his reputation. He tried to be, what he considered to be, a better version of himself for them.

- as such, when he went on tour and said all those crazy things in interviews, his brothers had to do a double take.

- this isn’t to say that, when not with his brothers, he wasn’t doing weird and creepy things. Primo often enjoyed being off putting, and occasionally does strange things to keep people on their toes.

- once they were all grown up, Primo allowed some of his more bizarre thoughts to be said out loud. Every so often, Secondo will burst into laughter at something he has said, especially at the conversational tone

- often says things and people can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. Occasionally he’ll say something outlandish, which mustn’t be true, surely, only to be proven right at a later date, so Terzo takes him at his word on principle, no matter how stupid the claim may be.

- He once claimed to be Jack the Ripper, and some children of the clergy managed to get word of it and believed him.

- makes terrible jokes, and enjoys wordplay that makes his brother sigh

- was definitely a goth during the 80s

- in addition to his marigolds and daisies, he probably grows poisonous plants too, such as belladonna and foxglove, along with Venus flytraps. As such, he has to make sure that Copia’s rats stay out of the garden

- refuses to watch Nosferatu (1922), because he feels insulted by the portrayal of the vampire, which he claims was based on him.

- no one really knows how old he is, not even Nihil, who was a teensy bit stoned the year Primo was born

- fairly eldritch, and likes to do the Michael Myers disappearing act, but only when people look away from a distance - never during conversation (unless it’s Seestor, who he allows himself to be rude to)

- has a tendency to lurk; around corners, in the shadows, in the backs of rooms

- pierced his tongue during the 70s

- like to have bitchy conversations with Chain ghoul, who he gossips with, often about macabre things. Likes to spend gloomy evenings strolling through cemeteries and judging the headstones, often mocking the inscriptions.

- on the subject of ghouls, has grown fonder of them over time, ceasing his previous disturbing behaviour, although despises Phil, who keeps popping up where he’s not wanted. They definitely help out in the garden

- there are rumours that bodies are buried in his garden beds, and that’s why his flowers are so huge. He never confirms nor denies these accusations, only commenting that he has a good fertiliser.

- after his run of Papa, he relaxed a little. He spends most of his time doing whatever he wants, mostly on a whim.

- every so often he’ll disappear, sometimes for days at a time, only to reappear later, hair full of twigs and knotted something awful, with new light in his eyes.

- nobody knows where he goes, and it’s anybody’s guess. Secondo has bet money that he’s visiting a lover, whereas Terzo thinks he likes to hang out away from people and live in the trees for a bit. Copia thinks that he has his ghouls bury him alive for some much needed rest from the world. They have no idea if they’re right or not, because Primo refuses to tell them.

- Copia once walked into the kitchen of the Ministry in the middle of the night to find Primo, after being gone for a week, sitting calmly by an open window with a chalice in his hand, jumping at the sight and almost dropping his rats,

“Holy fuck, where the shit have you been?”

“I have no idea what you speak of. I never left.”

- refuses to go out on sunny days without an umbrella. Would rather takes his walks at night and bathe in the moonlight.

- despite his paternal instincts, he cannot bake for shit, his biscuits always ending up burnt to a crisp, no matter what he tries. Eventually he gives up, and Secondo does the baking from now on

- probably sleeps in a coffin, just for laughs

- always wins at Uno, but cannot play cards to save his life. Purposely avoided playing any type of card game with his brothers because they can beat him without fail, even without knowing the rules

- claims to only watch silent films, but has a secret love of torture slasher films, as they allow him to revel in the cruelty of the human race, stoking his hatred of humanity.

- fucking adores Elizabeth Bathory, and will defend her to his dying day. Gets into arguments online about whether she was innocent or not.

- spent a week in an opium den, for no reason other than he could.

- always knew that Nihil would choose Seestor over them, and likes to haunt them both before they die.

- likes to give pep talks to the other papas before touring, especially Copia and Perpetua although his advice can vary in its usefulness, and is often oddly specific and irrelevant.

- he, Secondo and Terzo hang around the Ministry more often now that Copia is Frater, doing their best to make sure he isn’t lonely or sad.

- refuses to buy into the capitalistic machine, and makes all his own clothes, with the exception of the crimson sweaters that Secondo knitted for him.

- likes to take a lawn chair to busy intersections to watch the carnage

#wow this is long. oops #first post! yay #I know that all of two people are going to see this #but that’s fine #the band ghost #ghost #papa emeritus i #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost primo #primo emeritus

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crooked-hourglass · 2 months ago

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Recap of my mangled thoughts after my first Ritual in Manchester!

Spoilers under the read more

Forgive me for spelling mistakes - its late and emotions are high! We were so close to the stage. We were in the first block and in the second row and we were level with the stage so we could see them so well. We were practically next to Swiss, and Cirrus was behind him on the keyboards. There was a raised track all the way around the stage and Phantom interacted with us so much and his little dances were adorable. Rain, Dew and Papa also came to interact with us so many times. Dew tried to throw a pick over the gap but it didnt quite make it. Most of the Ghouls were wearing platform Doc Martens and Phantom and Rain looked particularly good in them. Rain, Swiss, and rhe Ghoulettes were wearing habits, and at one point Rain headbanged too hard and the habit flipped over his face 🙃.

The setlist was immaculate, and the staging was so impressive. They started with the usual big black curtain that dropped to show the stage in the usual Ghost setup but with the additional raised section around the sides and back. Everytime Dew came to our side he'd take the lonf way back all the way round the back of the stage. And I got to witness a Dew Cirrus fist bump as he was doing his rounds around the stage. And phantom and Dew played together at the back but i couldnt tell if you could see that from the front. I couldnt see Aurora or the new Ghoulette, but the verdict is in, Cirrus is still hot. And Aurora had the wings from the music video! Also I can't believe I finally saw a mummy dust keytar solo live! There was another curtain covering the back wall of the stage, that dropped after a few songs to reveal the usual windows, but the projections on to them were amazing! Especially when they shattered to reveal a night sky that change to a sunrise when they played 'He Is'. Those windows then fell to reveal an entire wall of screens that had amazing visual effects. And let me say it was so refreshing to not see AI generated effects on screen at a concert. There was pyro, fireworks, the lighting was gorgeous and of course there is new Mummy Dust! Which I'm hoping to get on Sunday 🤞

There was a moment where it was just Phantom on the stage, interacting with the crowd and encouraging cheers etc, and it was so nice to watch him have his moment, and Dew had a bit of a moment too. Plus the top hat looked so good on Phantom - and on Dew! Oh! And the gave Swiss a cowbell! Cowbell ghoul lives on! What I will say about the costumes is that they were VERY tight and I think it was a bit of an issue with the boys if you catch my drift.

Now onto Papa V - he was the perfect balance of sweet and playful, and a bit darker than Copia. His outfits were incredible. For 'Majesty' he was on a pedestal behind Mountain and was wearing these long ornate robes with a huge collar. The pedestal rose up, alonf with the giant grucifix that was made of lights that hung above the stage. His robes for 'Ritual' I loved! They were black with a chrome spine and hip bones and what looked like a tail that went to the end of his robes. The back of the ghouls sleevless tail coats also had fabric that was rouched to look like ribs. The new costumes were all fantastic. And Papa still had his sparkly jackets still! A silver one during the main set and a purple/pink one during the encore. He also had a black jacket that had glitter diamonte detailed like spider webs across. The amount of sparkle on this tour is exquisite. Papa sounded so clear and so so good, and the ghoulette and Swiss backing vocals were incredible. The new songs sound great and I'm so excited for the new album.

On the no phones thing, I only slightly freaked out because I couldn't find one of the people I went with at one point. But overall, I loved the energy of an arena filled with people interacting and focused on the show. I just wish there was more communication beforehand to how the tickets worked and if you needed to print them. But now you can see half of Papa's face, you can tell he was so happy with the show.

Overall, I couldn't have asked for a better first ritual with better seats. Because standing at shows takes it out of me for days after so to get such a view and get so close and still be able to walk after is amazing.

#ghost #manchester ritual #the band ghost #papa emeritus v #papa perpetua #nameless ghouls #skeletour #skeletour spoilers

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genderlessghoul · 3 months ago

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In light of recent events (petty Tumblr drama) I bring you an offering. A post about religious headwear and their influence of Ghost costumes.

First of, a little bit of general definition because the post I made a week ago is suddenly gaining traction and I wanna add to it.

"Habit" refers to an ensemble of garment and does not specifically refer to religious attire. It comes from one of the French words for "clothing" and is generally used to describe a complete outfit.

"Headdress" refers to something that goes on the head, from a veil to a simple baseball cap. It can also be used to refer to a collection of articles that go on the head, as there can be a lot of items on at once, especially in religious headwear.

Also, please note that all of these have very ancient origins and have been used widely around the globe by many religious groups, so my examples are not the only instances where those pieces have been worn and are a pretty wide generalization.

WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY!

The most seen form of headwear worn by Ghost inspired by religion is the mitre, worn mostly by the Pope, bishops and cardinals. "Mitre" comes from the Greek word "mitrà" which translates loosely to headband. It can vary in uses and looks, but they most often made white silk, either plain or heavily decorated in gold depending on the occasion. We've seen every Papa so far wear a mitre.

Next we have Copia's cornette. "Cornette" comes from the French word for horns, "corne". It describes the shape of this headdress very well. A cornette is a type of headwear worn by women that was popular until the 1800s. It is now associated to catholic sisters thanks to the Daughters of Charity, a group that formed around 1850. They tended to the poor and sick a lot, and the founder of the movement wanted them to look a bit more like regular women, thus they adopted the cornette. I personally associate them to that one episode of Doctor Who with the cat nuns, lol.

The last one I wanna talk about is the headdress that the Skeletà ghouls wear. A lot of people have associated them with classic nun headwear, but they look more like Greek orthodox to me. There are SO MANY TERMS used to describe all the parts that can go into a head covering, I'm gonna try my best to dissect them.

The veil is the large piece of fabric that goes down from the top of the head and drapes down, generally a little past the shoulders but can be longer.

The bandeau (headband) is a piece that goes around the head, either to hold the veil (as a piece of fabric) or to give structure to the headdress (as a rigid piece). The ghouls are wearing a combination of veil and bandeau.

The coif, or wimple depending on the style, covers the neck area from under the chin and wraps around the head, hiding the hair. They both serve the same function but I've noticed that a coif seems to sit closer to the skin while the wimple is a looser piece of fabric.

Lastly, we have the guimpe. Which is where I get confused because "guimpe" is French for "guimpe" (I'm a native French speaker), and "guimpe" in French also refers to a wimple WHAT A JOY LANGUAGE IS. Anyway, a guimpe is a piece that covers the base of the neck and the front of the body. Outside of relivious wear, it was also historically used by women to wear under dresses with a deep décolletage. It's still used today sometimes for that purpose.

Here's a picture that demonstrates the whole ensemble pretty well.

Alright, that's it for me now! Good night, my loves!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #papa v perpetua #papa copia #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #skeletà ghouls #historical costumes #meerkat talks about ghost costumes

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writingjourney · 1 month ago

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⛧ BERLIN RITUAL RECAP ⛧

first of thank you all for being so kind yesterday. i tried to add everything i could think of, but my brain was fairly fried and i was so incredibly immersed in the moment that i did not pay attention to every single detail. but here goes ✨

Our seats ended up being super amazing, I had a sort of steep sideways angle to the stage from Phantom’s side and except for some people around me standing to block some of the views at times it was super nice to see the whole stage and screens, we were exactly on eye level whenever they went onto the left side platform which made it all super nice and interactive

Generally, Papa was really chatty when he did speak and also was trying to engage a lot with Berlin personally, like he made many references to how the band was here before (not he himself, it is his first time of course!! which was a very fun and sort of fourth wall breaking moment) and that he enjoys Berlin and we’ve always been so good to the band

His voice to ME was veeeeery different from Copia’s especially during his first little speech, it sounded a bit higher, less cackly and more peppy, sort of. He sounded very distinct to me but I can’t really explain what exactly it sounded like, he did not make overly crass jokes like Copia but he did curse like him and he WAS hooooorny in his movements

His voice sounds incredible live, Peacefield went so incredibly hard but the crowd really popped during Lachryma, Satanized also really hit the crowd around me, as did Rats and of course the encore songs and year zero

They played Pinnacle and CMLS and seeing the propped up Papa on his little column in the back from my side by the stage was a hilarious angle of it

Priest-bias on the screen during Satanized!!

He said we are in times with a lot of turmoil and the world is not as nice as it should be, and he then said things are kind of scheiße-esque which will now forever wander into my vocabulary😭

hearing TFIAFL in East Berlin hits different, him singing about the Stasi guard while a big remaining chunk of the Berlin Wall is right across the venue did really get me

In general TFIAFL got me good, the energy was incredible and everyone in my area was belting it, I was half-crying but it was such a good, affirming feeling

Somehow I hadn’t heard that they have a lit-up Ghost logo in the background of one song, I can’t remember which one it was though but it was super cool (Luise tells me it was Squammer!)

During Ritual Papa was on our side for a bit and the hip movements were SENSUAL, I’m telling you, he also did the microphone penis bit here I’m sure

Where I sat, we got allllll the Phantom action, like SO MUCH. He was SO interactive and charming and he at some point played the guitar underneath his leg that was propped up for a pretty long time, absolutely slayed and engaged with us so much, blew kisses, had us react to specific song parts

Before Cirice he did the thing where he had each side of the crowd go loud and then quiet again, it was super entertaining and the people around me were fucking with him by whistling when he tried to get us to be quiet and he made some playfully angry gestures

I didn’t see much of the other ghouls on my side tbh but Cirrus definitely slayed once again with the solo and also I saw a lot of the ghouls interacting with each other really sweetly, getting each other hyped up

He let us sing a good chunk of DATHOML which ended up working out WAY better than I thought, usually this type of thing with Germans is very risky lol, I loved the song live, he sounded so good

The Umbra run was back for sure and it was greatly amusing

KTGG speech: He talked about how he always comes to Berlin in spring time and it makes him want to hug someone, he said he wants to hug all of us but that would just take too much time because look there are so many of us, he CAN offer us a kiss though

Also the background during KTGG with the goat/anus imagery made me cackle, but in general the backgrounds were SO nice

At some point Dew grabbed Papa’s butt and they were half-hugging while Papa praised him for playing so amazing with his broken foot

Encore bit: In a very funny mocking German accent he did the thing where he says, oh you think we’re so predictable, you think we’ll play another song!! well, we’re not like other bands, we played all our greatest hits already, we’ll play you a song that is 10 minutes long, a kind of jazz rap number, Krautrock (very apt reference for the German crowd), and he also brought the lowkey aggressive NEIN NEIN NEIN back

He said it was a school night, actually pronounced Mittwoch perfectly in German and then was mighty confused that Berlin has a holiday tomorrow, so it was in fact NOT a school night, so he asked if the crowd was fucking with him when they answered no

He also said something else in German (I think) instead of one last one up the poopchute but I did not acoustically hear it, in general sometimes when he talked I just could not make out the words

As I said in my post, after the ritual was over, I thought I’d take the chance to see if the kind security people would maybe hand me some mummy dust and I honestly kinda just forgot that papa was still doing his rounds on stage and happened to run exactly up to that barrier as he came onto the platform one or two meters away, a handful of others were standing there with me as well and he blew us kisses as he does and waved and he stayed a LONG time while we interacted back with hearts and I blew him a kiss back. He was SMILING SO MUCH. It still makes me want to cry how genuinely happy he seemed. (I did get mummy dust, luise also collected one for me <33)

Some infos about the Pop-Up store and merch etc. for those who might be wondering:

It was not close to the venue, idk if that’s the case for other cities but it was quite the annoying mid-berlin-traffic drive, so maybe plan in some extra time and check where it is if you’re not familiar with the city

Suuuuuuper kind staff, like genuinely they were so lovely and chatty (but the venue staff as well, sooooo nice which tbh in Germany is something to point out but that is my general experience in Berlin, they are lovely there)

I got the Berlin exclusive shirt but they actually ALSO had a Berlin exclusive shirt at the venue merch stall that was different (in the style of the regular tour shirts), so I actually have two versions now and both are very nice

There was this big sort of poster wall of Papa with a carpet where I think you could have taken pictures

Prices are similar to the merch at the venue I would say, only the shirt was 60€ (the shirts are 50€ at the venue) and they had a lot of bits and bots that were kinda pricy, I did not get the exclusive necklace because I don’t wear silver but it looked cool! I got a cute pin instead

They also had three different Ghost cups at the venue (which the kind staff allowed us to buy without drinks after the ritual was over) so get your drinks friends lol

#the band ghost #berlin ritual #skeletour spoilers #skeletour #skeletour berlin #ghost berlin 2025

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ghulehunknown · 1 year ago

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Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band smut #copia is my husband #papa emeritus iv x gender neutral reader #popia x reader #copia fluff #copia smut #copia x reader #ghost band fanfiction #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #rite here rite now #rhrn

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ficandkaboodle · 5 months ago

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The Stroke of Midnight (Copia x Fem!Reader) - NSFW

A/N: Veteran smut-writers, y'all deserve a hillside of marigolds and picnics complete with pasta and endless breadsticks 🫡 (Seriously, though, thank you to all who've put up with me on this beast. It put me on life-support just long enough to finish it in time! Y'all deserve the pasta picnic and some cookie boxes with dope-ass cookies) It’s my first attempt at non-blurb smut so you’ve been warned… Banner Credit Goes to @saradika-graphics! Word Count: 5897. Shoot dang, almost made it to 5900! CW: Reader and Copia are buzzed so expect many, many references to alcohol and its consumption. And you know what happens when Copia gets buzzed . . .👀 So on that note . . . MDNI for sexy times while intoxicated!

Shady business and unfeasible expectations be damned (or perhaps blessed): the Satanic Church knew how to throw an actually good New Years Eve party. Of course, it would've been given enough if it relied solely on the expectation that alcohol flowed like water. But no: They went the extra mile and actually included food. Not dinky little cocktail wienies and room temperature hors d'oeuvres – honest to Beelzebub food!

Now that was a commitment to making sure everyone in the congregation was having a good time, in your opinion. Everywhere you looked, there was some form of excitement: Siblings dancing; Clergy members opening party crackers while drunkenly cackling at the curse of glitter they'd inflicted on each other; ghouls challenging each other to shot-downing competitions; and everything in-between.

In short, it was a beautiful bacchanalia with which to welcome another year of spreading the Old One's word.

The only thing that could make it actual perfection, though? Perhaps if your boyfriend of a month and a half were actually by your side. Or, at the very least, within eye shot!

You weren't entirely shocked that he'd disappeared. Being Frater Imperator, it was only an expectation that he might get pulled away for some ass-kissing from residential and visiting eminences alike. But it had been almost half an hour, and your own friends had wandered off to makeout or have other types of fun with their own significant others at this point.

Far be it from you to consider yourself clingy – you liked your independence. But . . . Okay, maybe some sappy part of you still lingered inside, coloring your thoughts and expectations. Specifically, they were colored with the same black and pink of Copia's lips.

Part of you wondered what cheesy holiday romcom you were trying to replicate, holding out for something as cliche as a kiss on New Years. You’d even gotten dolled up in a cutesy mini dress like one you’d probably see in such a sappy flick!

But then again, Lilith and Eve sinned so that man could be born and kiss the way that he did. Deadline aside, getting one at anytime tonight would be the perfect assurance that you were truly entering a brand new era of your life.

So . . . It was probably understandable that you may have looked a little pouty to the sober-enough onlooker. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking a sip of the cocktail you'd been nursing in order to pacify yourself. By now, you were starting to realize a burning hum in your ears and cheeks as the alcohol began to seep into your blood.

You were beginning to contemplate giving in and venturing to the snack table for some garlic-dipped pita chips (you'd been staring longingly at them since you first arrived, only holding off because of the coveted Kiss), when –

There! Finally! You knew that jacket! It's hard not to, considering it was a glittery gold. It caught so much light that it was frankly a wonder how you hadn't found his gilded disco ball ass sooner. Especially given how . . . awkward his movements are. Uneven, always moving too far left, then too far right before barely uprighting and –

Oh. Oh no.

At one point, he stumbled to a wobbly stop, head cocking and eyes squinting before flying open wide.

A smile grew on Copia’s face as his arms flew up in front of him, hollering out a notably slurred, "There she iiiisssss! Amore mio, la mia vita, la mia mela – " He paused to make a singular yet violent hiccup. "Mela alla cannelaaaaa!!"

You met him halfway in his path towards you, worried that he might collapse on the marble floor if you didn't at least try to catch him. Copia wasn't an especially heavy person but in his drunken state, he seemed to disregard the courtesy of not foisting his entire self onto you. Instead, he was far too focused on hugging you close, mushing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Ahhh, topina. I -hic- missed you!" Your nose wrinkled as a waft of a powerful alcohol flowed down to your nose. You had a bit of a buzz going yourself but at least you had a cute little cocktail to thank for it. Judging by your burning olefactories, Copia was on some of the harder stuff.

"I – ugh – I missed you, too," you responded carefully. It was an awkward act to try and balance the remainder of your drink while also getting Copia to balance flat on his own two feet but you somehow managed. Call that a New Year’s Eve Miracle. "Geez, what happened to you?"

You may as well have told a corny little joke with how he giggled.

"Some Clergy members gave me some shots of rum from Ja -hic-maica! Coconuts!" You couldn't tell what he was laughing at now: The fun time he was having, or the look of horror on your face. Harder stuff indeed.

Now you had an important decision to make: Either you found a seat, prayed that he sat still long enough for you to build up a plate of fried and greasy foods for him to sober up on; or you played the part of the boring old partner and marched him to his chambers for an early evening (well, as early as 11:18pm could be considered).

You heard a sigh slither into the middle of your thoughts as Copia's arms wrapped around you once more, nudging you back into him. The threat of him putting his weight back on you was enough for you to come to a quick decision: Sober him up just enough to where he could take ten steps without the threat of collapse, then take him to bed. With how he was standing, there was just no way you were going to be able to make your way to the other side of the Great Hall, never mind the other side of the building.

You felt confident with your choice just by the journey to a free chair and table alone.

"Okay, oookay," you grunted as you tried to angle his rump into the seat. Copia let out a disappointed sound too young for someone of his age as you gently de-tangled yourself from his embrace. Inconveniences aside, you had to fight back the desire to coo at how adorable he was being. Copia was always affectionate with you, but it appeared that alcohol added a whole different layer to that.

"Don't worry, Caro " you softly assured. "I'm just going to get you a little something to nosh on, okay? I'll be right back. But only if you stay put, alright? If you leave – even if it's just to go find me – I won't be able to find you. So can you be a good boy and do that for me? Stay put?"

When you saw his expression collapse into a somber pout, you wondered if perhaps he found your tone patronizing. Judging by the sulky "fine" he uttered, however, it was apparent that he was more upset by the fact you couldn't be fused at the hip forever.

You could work with that. It wouldn't be long anyway. Even when you returned with a flimsy red paper plate covered in tortilla chips, a scoop of veggie lo mein, and two egg rolls, you could tell that the look of joy on his face was only meant for you. He would've disregarded the little spread entirely and latched himself back on you if you didn't take the time to place both it and a cup of water before him with the gentle instruction that he tuck in.

"Carefully," you were sure to add. A tipsy gait was bad enough; if he ate himself sick, you'd be even further out of your depth than you were already beginning to feel.

To your relief, he listened, proceeding to nibble on an egg roll's crunchy wrapping. Good. Now all you had to do was sit and wait for his system to clear up a bit. Your back and feet cried with relief as you plopped yourself down on the seat next to him – your first and only real mistake of the evening.

In hindsight, you would compare it to being like a living lava lamp. Maybe there was some science to it or whatever, but you were becoming increasingly unable to apply logic. All you knew was that the longer you sat, the warmer your face began to feel and the more bubbly your brain seemed to become. The flare of alcohol was rising inside of you like a hot river, flowing upwards, into your chest, into your cheeks, and into your brain. You could practically feel your sensibilities flickering like a lightbulb threatening to go out.

Crap. Curse that cute cocktail, it had betrayed you after all! Your eyes fluttered as though that would do literally anything for you besides make you look frazzled.

"Wha’s the matter, Schricchio?" Copia sounded only slightly less slurred, though the fact that he was able to pin your shift in demeanor after only an egg roll and a half stood as a good sign. All the more reason for you to remain firm and stand your ground against the liquid possession threatening to take over your senses.

Copia needed you to be the sober one here, even if he didn't really know it. You shook your head and nudged your cocktail further away from the both of you.

"Bad aftertaste is starting to hit," you claimed. A part of you mourned that you would have to abandon it so soon. The dull pain was slightly remedied when Copia wordlessly offered you a bite from the remainder of his fried treat. It was nice to know that there were some things about Copia that not even alcohol could change.

"Are you mad at me?"

He sounded quiet. The sounds of the party grew softer and softer as you both walked further from the Great Hall. On occasion, you'd pass a couple making out or a Sister of Sin drunkenly sobbing over her phone while her equally sloshed friends warned her against texting "him" back.

Otherwise, though, most of the Abbey's residents and attendees were either back where the action was happening, or making some action happen in their rooms. Which was where you, as a Sibling yourself, would probably be heading to once you got Copia situated in his own quarters. As sweet on you as he was, your relationship was still new; you didn't feel it was right to impose and spend the night without his permission.

And even if you had it, you'd have to second guess if it was a situation where anyone was being taken advantage of. He seemed slightly better than he did nearly half an hour ago, no longer launching himself on top of you in an unsuccessful effort to fuse. Even his balance seemed somewhat improved. However, the rum was clearly still in his system, making his cheeks and nose run red and his sensitivities run tender.

That was probably why he sounded so nervous and shy when he'd asked you his strange question.

You knew he couldn't see the confusion on your face, not when he was trailing behind you, but you nonetheless wore it. "No? Why would you think that?"

You probably weren't convincing, given that you barely turned to glance back at him, but you needed to keep your purposeful stride going. Evidently, Copia had a better handle of his alcohol than you did, seeing as the bit of egg roll you'd eaten did virtually nothing for you.

If you broke the intense concentration it was taking for you to avoid wobbling, your barely concealed cover would be blown – and you'd probably faceplant and force a buzzed old man to drag you off somewhere to hide your shame. He’d probably throw out his back and then you’d both enter the new year with wounded bodies and wounded pride.

Copia worried his bottom lip. "For getting silly. And for making us leave the party early."

You nearly scoffed with amusement. Did he really think that that would be all it took to upset you? The poor dear, so darling and worried even when on the brink of being absolutely sauced.

You sighed, the fruity smell of your cocktail fluttering back at you. "Issa New Year's party, Co: Everyone is drunk."

Including me, you thought with guilt. You winced as you realized a bit of slur was beginning to drip into your speech but carried on. "But I dun really care about everyone; I care about you. And a little while ago, I was worried our dear Frater was going to get himself hurt, y'know?"

"I know . . ." he mumbled. The hushed tone of his voice implied a guilt of his own, and it hurt your heart to hear him like that.

You knew good and well that Copia's onstage persona was more confident and bombastic than who he really was offstage. But to see him question or be uncertain about something still tugged a saddening chord inside you. And the alcohol no doubt made it worse . . .

Fuck it. Your conviction to maintain speed was tossed out the nearest window as you slowed your pace until you were right alongside your glittery guy.

"Hey." You entwined your fingers with his, flesh meeting warm leather. At fifty-something years-old, Copia wore the expression of a young child experiencing the wonder of their crush talking to them. Even in your fizzling state, you adored it and hoped you'd remember it forever.

"I mean it."

You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "I was worried about you, y'know?" The cocktail told you to lean in and burrow against his arm, and you found yourself obliging. The sequins of his coat weren't the most welcoming texture, but the fact that they were on him made them 100 times more bearable to you.

"I wan' take care of you . . . 'Cause you're mine." Welp. There went the goal of trying to bite back your slurring. But Copia didn't seem to mind. Far from it, if his response was anything to go by, in fact.

Returning the gentle squeeze, he sighed dreamily. "You're so nice . . ."

You lightly giggled either from the cocktail further encroaching your senses or from feeling your partner press a small kiss to your hair. "You're not so bad yourself, Frater."

You felt him nuzzle his nose against the spot a kiss had previously been place, then a flutter of a deep inhale and respective exhale. "'Smell nice, too . . ." You almost wanted to make a sarcastic comment about how sure, the residual smells of debauchery from the party definitely made for an intoxicating bouquet. But as his hand released yours, only to wander to your waist, you couldn't help but feel that might've actually been apt in this moment.

A gasp popped from your lips, followed by a light squeal of delight and ticklishness as he gave the tender flesh a teasing squeeze. Your reflexive wiggling only stopped when his other hand crept further up your back. As he drew your bodies closer, you couldn't help but notice how his personal heat felt . . . more intense. Even in the drafty halls of the old structure, Copia was more than enough to set your cheeks on fire.

Well, that, and the intoxication wafting from him.

The gleam of his left eye pierced through the darkness like the stare of a predator on prey. And even in the haze of euphoria, there was a steadiness in them that made sure to lock in on you and only you.

"You feel nice . . ." The low rumble of his voice made a shudder run through you.

Oh, yeah: That Jamaican rum was still there. And no amount of food or water was going to hold it back from taking control of your Copia. Like a devil lying in wait, it struck at the perfect time: A barely-lit corridor, no Siblings or Ghouls or Clergy patrolling, far enough away so that the sounds of the party were just barely above a loud whisper.

Even a more sober you wouldn't have stood a chance. Petrified with lust and intrigue, you were the perfect kill. The rough kiss he pressed to your lips came easily, and you could only welcome it with a heady moan.

The tastes of cocktails and hard rum mingled together between your tongues, overpowering any other taste including your own. In your increasingly buzzed state, you were beginning to understand why perhaps Copia bothered to drink more than one shot of rum: At least when coming from him, it tasted diabolically divine.

A soft whimper for more filled the space between your separated lips, then muffled and obliged when they wetly reunited once more.

Uncoordinated and stumbling footsteps echoed through the corridor as you felt Copia gently but insistingly ushering you backwards until your back found purchase against the wall of an alcove.

There was a stark juxtaposition in that moment, where the cold and uneven stone biting into your bare back urged you even closer against the burning, soft hold of your beloved. The contrast had a dizzying effect, and you weren't sure which temperature made your nipples pebble beneath your clothing more as you released a trembling sigh.

Your thighs twitched out of reflex but that was all the rum demon needed to secure yet another opportunity to take and take. A low, spicy, coconut-scented moan was coupled with gloved hands removing themselves from the curve of your waist and back before returning to your body – with one traveling upwards to your chest and its twin sloping downward to grip at the meat of your hip.

In the short time you'd been an official couple, Copia had made many things clear: That he was the sort to treasure the one he loved, and that he had a fondness for breasts of all shapes and sizes had been but a few of them. And given how he gently cupped yours, relishing in its weight and warmth against his palm, it was apparent that this held even through the haze of inebriation. Not even the ambitions of the rum could blind him to the want of cherishing your body.

If he'd only remained fondling you, you would have been plenty happy. Both parties were enjoying themselves as Copia's thumb glided back and forth over your nipple as though it had found a new toy to play with; and the bead itself seemed to crave his stimulation even through the material of your dress, bending to his touch and tickling your senses.

But with a hardening grip, you were reminded of where his other hand had gone. It pinned your hip as close to the wall as possible, not allowing for even the slightest wriggle away.

"Amore." A single word made uneven by laborious panting. But even then, you knew what he intended: He needed you to stay put, to not move an inch. All the easier for him to position his hips against yours.

Even though your dress made the contact somewhat awkward, Copia's reaction portrayed utter bliss. It was just enough for his hardening dick to become aware of even the slightest softness of your mound. That was all it took for his head to tilt back to release a sound that combined a whine of pleasure with a groan of hunger.

He gave the connection a tentative movement, pressing himself against a slot only the barrier of clothing prevented him from fully entering. The friction proved to be all he needed to give your warmth a few more, testing thrusts before giving way to more frequent, eager, and harder ones.

When his hardness finally found the tenderness of your awakening clit (as evidenced by the full-body jolt and hiccuped, "Oh!" you gave), he knew he'd finally found the angle he wanted.

In the nanoseconds between his hips pulling back and rushing forward, you found yourself just sober enough to remember something. You had never paid mind to because it appeared to just be rumors from ghouls and slander from the Ministry's former director.

But as Copia's hips began to dig into yours, accompanied by hot pants that fanned against your face, you had confirmation: The Frater, when just drunk enough, loved a good frottage.

You squeaked with warm delight as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, forcing your abdomens closer as your lower bodies began to meld together in one humping blur. He, of course, accepted the embrace, shakily endearing you as "Schricchina" as your cute little noises continued.

What probably had once housed something as insignificant as a potted plant was quickly becoming the world’s smallest shrine to lust. The liturgy came in the form of whimpers and moans, your prayers coming from slurred utterings of "please"s and "fuck"s and garbled Italian he had yet to teach you the meanings of.

When it wasn't being attacked with sloppy, tonguing kisses, your mouth hung open, puffing out small pants and tiny "oh"s. You didn't care how you must have looked as drool threatened to fall from your lips; all you cared about was getting Copia to nudge at your swelling clit again and again and again and so on until you grew tired. (Which, of course, would be never.)

The glittery sequins of his jacket bit into your fingers as they gripped against his back and shoulders, but you felt none of it. Nor did you feel the grit of the alcove wall against your back as Copia's feverish movements caused your body to rock against it.

If it wasn't the feel of his hands squeezing and playing with you; his mouth nipping and sucking and licking at whatever flesh he could reach; or the enthusiastic thrust of his dick searching for your wet warmth, then you weren't physically or mentally able to pay it any mind.

Copia himself didn't seem to know what to do with himself; caught in a stupor of his own desires, he wanted to do it all, taste it all, and feel it all. His forehead would press against the junction of your neck, only for him to raise almost immediately so that he could carve his teeth there before applying wet suckles there to salve the reddening spot. His hands would leave their positions, only to instantly regret it and miss the bounce of your breast and the twitching of your hips with every thrust he gave.

He was delirious in a concoction of his own drunkenness, lust, and greed, and he only wanted it more. Unfortunately, this current position, with how your dress lay over your thighs, wasn't going to cut it! A growl rumbled from deep within his heaving chest as he roughly gripped your thigh before hoisting it up to rest against his hip. Your body would have slipped from the position if not for his own thick thigh coming up to seat half your jiggling ass against.

The change in positioning was awkward only for the amount of time it took for him to assure you were situated into place. Otherwise? The blast of pleasure was immediate. With your thighs now properly spread, so, too, did your lips, causing your wetness an easier escape to be collected by your panties. Every thrust against them smeared your slick and created a sticky sound that only seemed to spur Copia on once he realized it lay beneath the rustling of your clothing and your collective noises.

Gritting his teeth did nothing to sharpen the oozing, rasping purrs of "Yes"s. The mantra almost sounded as though he were even thanking you; for what, you were in no headspace to determine. All you knew (or cared to know) was that the feelings were mutual.

"A-Amore," he managed to wantonly string together. "A-are you cl-close? You gonna cum with me?"

His voice had gone husky by now, but even the roughened edges couldn’t take away from how pleading he sounded. The effect it had on you was almost shameful as you could feel your walls clenching, grasping desperately for a dick that wasn’t even inside it yet. A moan, the loudest you’d uttered yet, burst forward from your awaiting lips.

"Yes, yes, yes! Please! Right there, Co, right there –!!" All you could do was murmur mindlessly, begging, pleading for him to just. Keep. Going. There! And ever the dutiful lover, your Frater was more than happy to oblige.

Through eyes fluttering through wave after wave of sensation, you could make out how your lover’s expression began to tighten. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth wore into his kiss-swollen lip. It was as though he were concentrating. And judging by the increase in tempo and form, he very well may have been.

Thrusts that had been straight forward until now began to curve and rotate, not at all unlike the effortless hip movements he would perform during his frontman days. The devilish thrusts that just watching footage of would send your pussy salivating and craving him. Feeling them on you, experiencing how direct they were, how thoroughly they hit all the sweet spots on such a small target –

You could've broken into sobs with how good the friction felt. How every streak of his cock left a trail of blissful fire lapping at your needy little clit. Your hips would trail after his own, desperately trying to mimic his movements and catch each rut his body applied to yours.

Your breaths pitched higher and higher as words melted into incoherent, single syllable sounds. If any more direction for what you needed to get off were required, you would have to fight to give them form. It was perhaps by sheer luck (or the interference of Asmodeus himself) that all Copia needed was to listen to your whimpers, your screeches that only vaguely resembled cries for more, and note how your hands struggled to commit to one place to know precisely what his good girl needed.

You'd long since stopped caring who all heard you – all that mattered was that you came, even if it was only on Copia's clothed cock. And you would have only been able to hear the sounds of your dry humping session, if not for the collective sounds of the Abbey raising in unison.

It rippled from back where the party was at, came from behind muffled doors, was cried out into the night from the rooftops outside:

"TWENTY . . . NINETEEN . . . EIGHTEEN . . . SEVENTEEN . . ."

The numbers were sharp and sobering. The countdown! The New Year!

"C-Copia," you gulped. You tried to reorient your grasp on the man but the continued rolling of his hips made doing so difficult. Your body continued to bounce, threatening your semblance of mind. Worse still, your body continued to gobble up every sensation and threatened to render you no better than a dumb animal once more.

"Copia, the countdown – " You could feel your thighs beginning to quiver, your stomach beginning to do that telltale clench. Your clit popped demandingly as your petals fluttered in their mess. Without thinking, your hand flew to the back of Copia’s head and snagged at the hair.

The shriek this man made! Not only that, but the hold he had on you: Your tugging had clearly registered to his poor brain that this was a demand – he had to go all out. N o w.

". . . ELEVEN . . . TEN! NINE!"

"C-Cara, amore mio, tesoro mio," he practically choked before his words dissolved into a puddle of Italian and English and a third language you couldn't place. The final time he regained any semblance of coherency, it was only to demand one thing:

"Cum."

It was not rugged in any sense. It was husky, rickety. Desperate. For you and only you.

The leg that had been hoisted instinctively curled around Copia’s tensing backside in an effort to pull him in close and keep him in place. His hips stilled in a frozen thrust, tiny quakes shaking between the both of you in the spot you connected most. A white-hot flood overtook his senses, robbing him of the ability to even utter of moan of completion.

But for you, you still experienced everything in one overwhelming blanket: Stars and fireworks unlike those you'd ever seen on New Years flooded your vision. The final rut of his cock striking against your tender nub was all you could feel shocking your entire body, tingling your fingers and toes to the point of numbness. All you could smell was Copia's cologne mingling with the perfume you'd no doubt mostly sweat away. All you could taste was, yet again, the addicting taste you and Copia had created, as his tongue once again swirled into your mouth with an animalistic groan.

And all you heard was a cluttered chorus:

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

The whistling and booming of fireworks roared into the night as distant sounds of cheers and party horns and pots banging pans went off.

They weren't even the first thing you noticed as the waves of your orgasm began to ebb. In fact, even as the familiar sounds and smells of the new year began to wisp into the hallway from windows and passageways alike, all that filled your senses was . . . Copia.

The feel of his warm body slouching against yours, the impact of his orgasm rattling him weary. It was welcoming compared to the sloshed mess he’d been earlier; he hovered as much as himself above you as possible, as though putting his full weight on you in such a state might break you. You noted how his aftershocks caused his hips to reflexively twitch, as though even while overstimulated, his cock still longed to be with you. He grunted softly, quietly every time. The cute little noises and reactions tickled your own sensitive arousal, making your aftershocks vibrate your shivering thighs.

Perhaps egg rolls and party foods weren't what was necessary to sober either party up; perhaps a good old orgasm was exactly what you both needed.

The unfortunate cost, however, was that you now realized the position you both were in. Thank Satan nobody had been in the hallway at any given time. Otherwise, they would've been treated to the image of their dear old Frater Imperator madly humping away in an alcove, cumming at the stroke of midnight, then separating from a fierce tonguing while leaving a strand of spit between both his lips and the lips of his lover.

. . . Wait.

You gulped down some air, trying to even out your still heaving breast. You'd gotten your New Year's Kiss! Sure, it wasn’t the cute, romantic Hallmark movie-style you’d always imagined. But clearly your imagination sucked because this was legions better than anything you could have ever concocted! The absurdity of it all managed to make it through the still evaporating fuzz of your mind. You couldn't help but giggle breathlessly, causing your tired old man to look at you nervously.

"W-what? Is – Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, his sobering up giving way to nerves and insecurity.

You tried to catch your breath to form the right words, but Copia couldn't help but babble on even through burning lungs.

"I'm so sorry! I – I was being stupid and horny and – "

"H-happy," you paused to gulp, "new year. Amore mio."

You inhaled just enough to soothe your lungs before leaning in for a kiss. It had much less tongue than most of the ones you'd shared this evening, but it was filled with passion regardless.

You didn't see how his eyes widened with shock, given that your own drooped shut, but you could feel how he quickly got over it just in time to return it. He even trailed after your lips as they separated. You would have gladly met him halfway once more, but you really needed to breathe. Even if the once crisp air had since turned hot and stinking of alcohol and sweat. And faintly of slick.

. . . Y’all really needed to get out of this nook.

You grunted lightly as you moved your thigh down from its perch over Copia's own. While the position had been blissful in the moment, you knew you were probably going to need to sleep on a heating pad tonight. But even before that . . . you were going to need a shower. The slick in your panties was cooling fast in the chilly January air, creating an uncomfortable feeling that squished against your thighs with every movement. Really, a bath was more preferable for such a mess but the communal bathrooms offered no such option.

You winced as you realized how wobbly you now stood even with the wall of the alcove supporting you from falling backwards. That shower was going to be difficult . . .

"U-uh." Your eyes flew up to a now sheepish-looking Copia. The redness on his face and ears no longer came from the rum demon possessing him, but clearly from that cute, almost schoolboyish nature he tended to have whenever it concerned you.

". . . Yes?"

"W-well. If it's okay with you, I – The Imperator Suite!" He paused, realizing he'd probably been a bit too loud. "I mean. The Imperator Suite: It – there is a bathtub. It’s really nice. Gets the best water and. And seeing as we both – Er, I made us both a mess, I think it's only fair if . . . If – And only if you're okay with it – If you'd like to maybe clean up . . . with . . . me? And then we can relax and cuddle and . . . "

His voice trailed. He cringed. Eyes screwing shut and all. As though he hadn't just dry humped the bejesus out of you in a hallway where you could've easily been caught.

Damn this adorable man.

You hummed adoringly as you placed a hand to his warm cheek, prompting him to look at your post-orgasmic haze.

"I would really like that, Frater," you assured.

You could have collapsed right then and there was his gloved hand overtook your own in a loving hold before bringing it to his lips for its own kiss.

No, really. You absolutely could have: The final wisps of sexual adrenaline had begun to give dissipate, leaving the full aches and pains of grinding at such an awkward angle (and with your back pressed against a stone wall, no less) to truly kick in. Copia, too, for all that limber hip action was worth, began to feel a dull soreness heat up in the bones.

It was going to be a long trek to the Imperator Suite, you both realized.

But between the hisses of discomfort from wet undergarments, the quiet "ouch"s, and assurances of how he had a stash of Tylenol back in his nightstand drawer, you were still glad for the experience.

Hand in hand, you weren't hobbling into the new year alone.

#the band ghost #copia x reader #the band ghost x reader #papa emeritus x reader #copia x female reader #papa emeritus iv x female reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia imperator x reader #frater imperator x reader #frater imperator #frater imperator x female reader #uh so...ta-da? *awkward pose*#*the cops take the opportunity to cuff my hands* Aw man :(#i can't say i wrote smut. but i can say that i tried #it should also be mentioned that New Years Day is on a Wednesday. aka...HUMP DAY!!!!!!#anyway: happy new year! I know this year won't likely be easy but that's all the more reason to carry on out of spite!#where your independence like a crown. bewitch someone in the moonlight. never walk alone. and all that spooky jazz!!!!!

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ihave3verything · 2 months ago

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During the day you are a journalist, but at night you record your voice for the enjoyment of anyone in need of some 'nightly help'. When a piece about the band Ghost and it's ministry brings you to Copia's world, he suffers. You are his favorite content maker of the voice and ASMR kind, and now you are there for who knows how long. Speaking to him in your lovely voice.

18+. MDNI

AO3 Chapters: I || Characters: F!Reader, Original Female and Male Character(s) Papa Emeritus IV Copia, Papa Emeritus The I Primo, Papa Emeritus the II Secondo, Papa Emeritus Emeritus III Terzo, Papa Emeritus 0 Nihil, Sister Imperator, Ghoulette(s), Ghoul(s), all is listed and updated on AO3 as we go along Pairings: Reader/Copia, Reader/Ghouls, Copia/Ghouls, OC/Primo, Terzo/Omega, Nihil/Sister Imperator, Fic Contents in general (Will be updated): Meet-Cute, Fluff, Smut, humor, Mutual Pining, Teasing, Sub!Copia, Needy!Copia, Switch!Copia, Voice Kink, praise kink, porn watching/listening, Journalism, Older Man/Younger Woman, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, masturbation, all is listed and updated on AO3 as we go along

Current Chapter Contents: Meet-Cute, pining, flirting, suggestive dialogue, Content: 3.5k words Author's Notes: Hello, I haven't posted a fic on tumblr for a long while now, but especially like this. It was usually just between me and friends so there wasn't much to put before the fic itself lol But there are a lot of fans here who may not be perusing AO3, so I thought I'd post this here :) DEFINITELY since I removed all my Tumblr links and any social media ones too with the current climate of the US and AO3 mods warning us too for our safety. But Anyways! Don't expect timely updates, I am busy with work, suffering my usual ADHD, and have many other fics being written on the side (Ghost ones in particular too and a character/reader or two from those WIPs may just make a guest appearance here :)c ). I also am not too sure yet how this whole thing will play out or how long, but we'll see! I hope you all enjoy <3 besitos all around!!

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"Do you know that sister's name?"

"Hmm?"

"The one, over there with her lips painted the dark-red?"

"Mmmm — no, I believe she may be one of the newer followers."

Copia could not tear his eyes off of you even if he wanted to and he stood there in a mix of emotions fighting over what he should take the time to feel first. Amongst the awe and excitement, the two that hit hardest when he first became aware of you was embarrassment and fear. An odd cocktail never felt before in all his years; and to top it all off, he still felt the lust coiling within, tightening between his thighs.

His ghoulette was by his side, all six-inches taller than him and dubbed 'Cirrus' by their fans. As she sipped away at a juice-box, her own masked eyes examined you, curiously trying to find what had obtained her summoner's attention. You were as average as they came for the clergy's disciples. She could see the parts that usually called out to any of the papas: thick hips, plump ass, beautiful smile, and an atmosphere of something dark misted about your form. Many siblings were like that though, something bringing you all to a dark following that was kinder than whatever else the secular world accepted…So what could have her beloved Copia so hypnotized by you? And could she join in first before the other ghouls did?

"Do you know her?" Cirrus gives a gentle nudge to his shoulder, lowering her eyes to him. He looks worse than she thought when he first spoke up. Eyes slightly wide though she knows he is doing his best to keep them from getting any bigger; lips parted, so stunned by just seeing you; and his pale cheeks are dusted red in the way she loves when he gets flustered. Dare she say it, Copia looks like he's just seen the reaper themselves, clad in a tempting form, beckoning him over with the curl of a finger.

With a little shake of his head, Copia licks his lips then presses them together. "No…No, I've never…"

Cirrus doesn't believe him one bit, she can feel it in their bond as Ghoul and Papa, though she won't say so. He looks like he's suffering enough.

Copia can hear the voice from where he stands so far away. He's heard it before and that is enough to make dread fall in the pit of his stomach. It sounds just like it always does, perhaps not as purposeful, yet the same low tone nonetheless. And like a Pavlovian effect he was never aware of being created, he feels a hot rush of pleasure race up his body to make all the small hairs stand-up, then back down to cause a twitch in his pants. You hadn't said anything enticing in the slightest, he had heard your laugh first then something about taxes, nothing else. Regardless, the memories, his fantasies, fill his head all at once and he must force back his cringing.

He knows you voice because he hears it at night when he needs to relax — when he does not have the time or desire to find a night time partner. Constantly he is driven to you, no time wasted as he knows exactly where you are. And when he closes his eyes, enveloped by you soft voice dripping with sex, he succumbs to the provocative words guiding him to sweet release.

Papa Emeritus The Fourth, Copia, knows your voice from the erotic audio you post online and he loves to get off to the most. That is where the embarrassment takes root, not for listening to audio porn, not really for it being your main role in kinky roleplay, but that he's become practically addicted to you. Always waiting for a notification that you've updated. Imagining your voice even when not clicked onto one of your videos, knowing your tone so well he can use it to make new scenarios to get off to in the meantime. Worst, he's found himself daydreaming of meeting you one day and what he'd say or do to make you smile and laugh and possibly go on a simple date with him. He's a big pathetic fan of a women he knew he'd never meet and was content on just supporting with donations to you subscriber account for more of your work.

And you're fucken here, in the same building, wearing the most beautiful pair of trousers that hug your wide, thick hips and blouse that shows off your supple breasts and cleavage; enjoying yourself talking to another man. Not talking to Copia who stands there stupidly with a juice-box in hand like a child. Which is all for the best, because if you came any closer (was right in front of him with all your pretty smiles) he'd probably make an absolute dumbass of himself.

Maybe he's just jinxed himself with that last thought, because you then looking in his direction. Copia's breath stops working, it's caught up in his nose and stays there like he can't remember how to exhale. Then you are bidding the other man goodbye (fucken good) and making your away to Copia (fucken NO), or to be more specific, Cirrus who he now realizes is waving her long arm up in a wave and obviously grinning at you (Fucken DAMN IT). His ghouls mean well, they are his beloved beasts, but they could be so frustrating to handle.

"Cirrus, what the fu —" He hisses lowly, daring a growl to seep into it so Cirrus understands how angry he is with her.

Of course it doesn't do anything, because when you are much closer she begins to greet you. "Hello! Sorry for interrupting, I'm trying to meet all our new members."

You are even worse for Copia up close where he can finally put a detailed face to your voice he knows so well. He's tried to make up an appearance for your voice, a temptress figure lying across a plush bed like Elvira the Mistress of Darkness herself. There are so many versions of this woman, all who commonly have those wide child bearing hips made for tight-fitting jeans, but none of them have stayed for long. They don't fit the voice, the words, the tingling sensations that crawl up his heated body from head to toe.

Now he's found it — you are truly there, and everything clicks into place. Now he's going to have to do his damned hardest not to get off to images of you, even if it is harmless (he's not going to be stupid and act like a delusional fanboy, naturally that won't be the case). Everything would feel too weird, certainly so when he is now going to be (forced) into meeting you face to face; his dick may think otherwise, but the shame is going to be waiting there after when all is over.

"Wonderful! Though, I'm not really a member of your church." You smile shyly up to the ghoulette, the skin around your eyes showing the smallest of wrinkles.

Copia bites the inside of his cheek. You're actually younger than he thought, heard, and imagined. The voice matches the body, yet still lies to anyone passing by (or hearing it while curled up in bed listening). Despite a mom-body and voice, you actually appear to be early 30s at the oldest, and late 20s at the youngest. Nary a cease on your face that is from age, only the lines that tell of how much you may have smiled over your lifetime so far. And that both worries Copia while also excites him; you must have a partner with how young and gorgeous you are; obviously you wouldn't care for someone of his age and looks. For once in his own life, there is a sense of disgust — you are far too young as much as you are a full-grown adult with experience to make your own choices smartly.

Cirrus cants her head a bit. "That must be why you're not in a habit. So why are you here?" It's so bluntly put, Copia wants to pinch her pointed ear for being so rude.

"I'm here to write up an article about you all and the band!" Your grin is so wide and your voice (pits below, you voice) is filled with glee.

"All of us ghouls and Papa?!"

You wiggle your head side to side and squint your eyes. "Well, the siblings and clergy members too, of course. It's so crazy how your church has reached out to the masses via Ghost. Usually other churches are going door to door, or being annoying at bus stops and stuff. Just handing out brochure like they're selling you a time-share or something." The annoyance seeps off your whole body and voice, like you've heard something a million times and are sick of it.

The ghoul joins in, matching the energy as she lifts her head up to the sky. "Absolutely! I'm so happy the whole Ghost project was made! Being summoned to join was the best thing to happen in my existence!"

Your face brightens up at that, scrambling in your pocket while also speaking and looking to the ghoulette. "So you really are summoned from Hell?"

As you quickly scratch away at a small notebook now in your hand, Cirrus begins to hop on the ends of her booted feet. "Yeah! Any high-ranking clergy member can summon beasts from the pits of Hell, but when a Papa does, it's super special! I felt it when the words echoed down below, and when Papa's voice was echoing in my head, I totally let myself relax and be brought up to this plane!"

"So he like… pretty much whispers in your ear — if you had one with a form even then, of course."

"…Not really? It was…Kinda like…" Then the tall air ghoul is turning her eyes to Copia. Their amber color is truly shining, so relaxed and almost longing as she gazes on the man; she knows how it looks, its just like Copia's face was when he was gazing on you a moment ago.

"Singing. Papa was singing to me and only me. Copia has such a bewitching voice, he called for me amongst the crowds of so many others…but he needed an air ghoul, and my essence…"

"I felt you there, my ghoul." Copia doesn't try to stop himself as reverence for his demon pours out of him not only in his words, but the piece of his soul that bonds them together in something like a hug. "All of the others felt so wonderful, but just a brush over your being and I was enraptured. So I focused, then you were — mnnn….well, you were there covered in blood, haha."

Cirrus' fang gleam as she giggles. "You're so sweet papa, you even took your frock off and covered me up despite the blood!"

"You were shivering, cara! As your summoner I had to instantly make sure you were ok and taken care of." He remembers the rush of protectiveness he felt when she was there on the circle of old runes — he had purposefully written them just as he practiced for days before, an intent behind every line. That was how it was with every ghoul he summoned, that need to ensure their new livelihood was safe the moment he saw their bare bodies mucked with thick blood that still shone so brightly. Perhaps he had actually fallen in love with each of them then, those decades old beasts who had lived a deadly life away from the Human realm.

Suddenly Cirrus is speaking again, but facing you who had been standing there frozen with the tip of your pen on the pad of paper. "This is so rude of me! I haven't even introduced you to Papa yet!"

Copia snaps his attention to you and he watches you blink a few times before you give him a small smile. The thought that you may be disappointed now to pay him any thought and are just being polite as Cirrus brings him up, swirls in his head. Why else would you give such an indifferent face. He doesn't blame you: he'd be more interested in such an impressive figure as Cirrus too.

"Papa this is …"

There hadn't been an exchange of names yet, but you don't hesitate to reach out a hand and tell them both yours. Copia only hopes his hand isn't as shaky as he feels — grateful for his gloves that keep his sweaty palms hidden.

"Please, call me Copia — Papa is my father." A fucken joke? A dad joke no less!

But your eyes fall to the ground, hiding away a big smile as you chuckle so sweetly it makes Copia whole body heat up in a flush. "Copia," No, no, no, you've said his name in your perfect voice"that's a unique one, really. It's very nice to meet you." And your hand gives his a quick squeeze, then releases.

"Me too. I mean, to meet you too! Eh, your name its, uhh, very nice too!"

You playfully look like you'd beg to differ, but say nothing and now truly grin. "You're very sweet, Copia. Very nice to little 'ol me."

In a race to keep himself from groaning aloud, he pulls his drink up for what was meant to be a sip, only to become a gulp that he swallows loudly instead; he fails to see to see Cirrus covering her mouth to keep her own laughter at bay. After a few clearings grunts of his throat, he attempts to keep the conversation going.

"I love your lipstick!"

"Aww, thanks! I love the darker colors." You give their plump shape a pucker like you are going in for a kiss.

"Though, they tend to be hard in keeping from staining everything my lips touch." You lick your lips, the tint to them not budging, stained in that dark color despite the long hours the party has gone.

Endless images fill Copia's head, each one of your lips pouting, wrapped around so many things, daring to see them below him. He wonders how they would feel not just there, but on his shoulders, across his chest, around his fingers, pressed on his cheeks, locked with his so deeply he'd be weaing your lipstick for hours after. Having their shape imprinted on every inch of his body to make him look like some lovesick fool.

There is nothing left in his juice-box to cover any reaction he has (especially physically), so in a moment of desperation Copia turns his head away and raises his juice to no one in particular far off. "Oh, excuse me! Someone over there is wanting me to go over! Look, more drinks!"

He looks back at you, finding you looking confused and curious. "I'm sorry to end this conversation so soon, please excuse me! I hope we can talk more another time." Dare he thinks it, dear God does he hope so.

"Of course, I'm sure we will with my —" Before you can continue, Copia is speed walking away with an odd limp in his step. You watch his back disappear in the crowd of so many, lost in the sea of blacks and reds like an enigma.

Cirrus sighs and rolls her eyes. "He's a very busy, you know. Still relatively new to his role now as Papa Emeritus."

"I understand…"

Your voice sounds very much like wistfulness to Cirrus' ears, making her wonder if there is a chance she can meddle a little in things that fill her head now. When she tells the others, they'll definitely feel the same. Its very cute to watch you continue staring where Copia went, how your soft lifts all but pout. Oh, how Cirrus wants in, she wants to have a taste of you…after Copia does, of course, if he would like to (and it seems so). The waiting game is one that any ghoul would be impatient about, but the reward is all worth it.

"You were saying something as he left. You'll be seeing Papa again?"

Nodding and turning back to the ghoul, you come back into the moment. "Yes, I will be setting up interviews with many peeople here — you ghouls included — but Copia mostly. I want to hear about his life before and after his promotion. Pick his brain at a few things and learn more about the clergy."

"It sounds like you know a bit already. Not everyone is aware of how ghouls are summoned."

"Aware is the key word here, until you both told me more right now. I've done some reading beforehand by fellow fans and articles online, skimmed a book or two. That's part of my job as a journalist."

That piques Cirrus' interest. "You are a fan of Ghost?"

A soft blush covers your cheeks, and you bite your bottom lips softly in a smile. Your shyness fills the ghoulette's cursed blood with flames, feeling a desire to chase and capture you in her arms; but just as quickly she covers it up, knowing how fearsome her face will look if you catch it in that moment.

"Yes…Not like a huge, huge fan though! But when the opportunity to do a story about religion came up for the news site I work for, I felt the need to cover your guys' church."

"You are so kind!" Cirrus steps closer. It's the same move she uses when it comes to anyone she finds interest in. Yet, what you do next is absolutely new.

"I've been told that before," your face changes, eyes lidded with something dark and alluring that makes Cirrus' focus zone in solely on you. Not only that, but there's a new timber to your voice, your words, that makes her ears tingle enough, she feels it like a warm blanket over her body. "I'm truly glad I chose you and this church as my topic"

Then you take a step closer as well, and there's little space between either bodies. "I'm grateful I'm here to meet you. You're so much taller than photos and videos would lead someone to believe; and so stunning in person!"

"You didn't choose me specifically, silly. You chose all of Ghost, all the ghouls and Papa." Cirrus can't take her eyes off you — doesn't want you to stop talking.

"True, but still, you are all so skilled and lovely in your own ways. I can't wait to talk to each of you one-on-one. I'll make sure you are comfortable and satisfied with our time together."

And Cirrus has never felt herself so captured. She's the lioness here, the one they joke about keeping behind chains so she doesn't play that ghoulish game of run and seek. And despite that, here she is, feeling so heated and at ease by a mere human who is much shorter and far less powerful than she. This must be whatever has her powerful summoner so uneasy, like he knows what strengths are hidden under that plushy flesh Cirrus now wants to caress and bite at.

If Copia doesn't get his shit together before Cirrus and the others snap, he's going to end up with some seriously sloppy and marked seconds. There could be a chance they'd ruin you for anyone else but their pack.

Cirrus' hair blows up a bit, a spark of her element rising enough it seeps out of her in a small gust. Absolutely embarrassing, though not enough to make her feel an ounce of it.

You grin so widely she fears your face will split in half. Stepping back and combing fingers in you hair to push it back, you put your notebook and pen back in your pocket. "I'm so sorry, uhh —"

"Cirrus, that's what you fans call me. I like it." I'm going to make sure you call it out without realzing it when I get my claws on you.

"Cirrus, like the clouds in the sky. I love it!" You give her a polite nod. "I'm sorry to run off, Cirrus, but I need to talk with Sister Imperator about setting up times for the interviews." You nod over to where the blonde woman stands, arm hooked around Nihil's elbow like a leash to keep him close.

"Of course, don't worry — I can't wait for ours!"

"Wonderful! I'll talk to you later then!"

"You bet!"

You are off with a confident stride in your step. The way your hips sway in those perfect trousers that show off your assets, how your shoes click on the marble floor echoes throughout the building. Cirrus squeezes her juice-box without thinking, and whatever was left is now a puddle on the floor as she watches you walk off. Only one thought stands out from the dozens of new ones.

Copia better hope his fat, perky ass gets interviewed first.

#papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #ghost bc #ghost the band #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia smut #copia x reader #my writing

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ghelullu · 4 months ago

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I don't play the long time fan card a lot, but let me do this real quick here for once: As someone who's been a fan of Ghost since Winter 2013/14 I've seen transitions from Papa II to III, to the Cardinal, him becoming Papa IV. Especially, of course, the one from III to Cardi was WILD, with the fandom still highly divided over both the lawsuit thing and the removal of III and the teasing of Copia (and ultimately reveal, the hatred for him was unreal, good memories!).

What I'm saying is that I know VERY well the excitement and anxiety and all that during this transition period and that that leads to some really wild panic reactions sometimes. This time I see it to an extend I've never seen before, even in 2017, the only time where an end of the Project was even a realistic option with the whole lawsuit crap going on behind the scenes.

Please stay calm, don't panic. Ghost is not ending (there's a whole ass tour coming up! A new album!) soon.

I highly doubt Mr. Ghost will step down as the frontman, because he's literally achieving his dream right now (soon being up there with some of his fave musicians at that Black Sabbath event!), he wouldn't give this up. Plus, from an economic pov this would be a terrible mistake, you cant replace his quite distinct voice and incredible stage presence - both he and the label know that.

Speculate the hell out of what the new guy's name and thing is, google the latin, wikipedia some ancient christian martyrs, draw speculative fanart, engage in batshit crazy theorising, but please:

Don't panic. Trust Mr. Ghost in this.

He has never disappointed us so far!

I for one am super excited for new music, new costumes, new Papa being slutty on stage, new lightshow, all that - SO much to look forward to.

#the band ghost #ghost #papa v #i also am thinking about doing an info post on tour and new papa/tour/album info release and album release schedules bc ppls were weird #about that too #info #mr ghost

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hellequinist · 3 months ago

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ok had some proper time to digest whatever the fuck happened in the world of ghost so. yapping/rambling session because perpetua and copia already foil each other so much just solely based on designs and im losing my marbles

ive seen some miscellaneous thoughts floating around so some of them may be echoed here but. yeah

im especially going insane over the potential sun/moon dynamic shenanigans we can get here… copia’s colors are blue and gold (apologies, i don’t know specific colors) whereas perpetua appears to be purple and silver. now, gold and silver have obvious relevance, both being metals commonly used for jewelry and whatnot. blue and purple, however, are more interesting choices. typically, sun + moon shenanigans are represented w/ blue and yellow, so having purple instead is a Choice. yet, it fits — especially given the shades they’re wearing, purple can represent the night sky whereas the blue can represent the daytime sky. combine that with the metals, you get the sun/blue sky and the moon/night sky. a lot of copia's little designs on his outfit resemble stars as well.

and this especially comes into play w the eclipse shown during the rhrn montage when imperator sees her life flash before her eyes. i saw a comment somewhere suggest that this could represent perpetua eclipsing copia, or surpassing him.

and then in addition, we have perpetua’s cool ass metal gloves + metal looking mask too. like yeah its a half mask bc its toblerone but also like. having a mask on skull paint which already should be kinda masking half ur face is. An Interesting Concept and i definitely think theres more to be said about it... almost like double masking in a sense??

a lot of the glittery stuff on copia also feels equally distributed across the entire design, whereas w perpetua it's really concentrated on his specific accessories/jewelry. like copia's entire outfit is Sparkly As Fuck...

shoutout to my friend (@galaxy-of-me) for pointing this out but even their face paint differs in the balance between black and white. copia’s facepaint is mostly all white, with the black being used to distinguish the little jaw bones or lack of them in skeletons. however, perpetua’s black skullpaint has the opposite effect. it highlights kinda the “main” parts of his face (and helps to highlight the mask).

also the design of their clothes is interesting. like, copia's reads w more circles/curves whereas perpetua's feels more rigid and sharp. something something shape language. it also stands out to me how copia's has like. a solid blue that's divided on the front of his chausible by black whereas perpetua's is just solid black solely divided in the middle by purple. this is also seen w the mitres...

ok and. back designs from that really quick camera shot we got. idk what colors it's gonna Specifically be but you can already see some kinda lace thingies on perpetua which is cool... like i'm not sure if this is a cape of sorts (since copia's is more of a cape) so idk if it's fair to draw Exact Comparisons here... but on another note the lappets/ribbons from the mitre are also diff. copia has star looking things (again) whereas perpetua's are more rounded/oval shaped (sun and moon content AAAAUUGHHHHHHHH).

and then in regards to lore like. if we assume that satanized really is perpetua's backstory (I HOPE IT IS!!) it would make their backstories like. Very Opposite. i think it's commonly believed that copia grew up in the clergy or wtv under sister, but then this would mean perpetua possibly grew up in the catholic church or in an abbey of sorts. so, already they grew up in different environments and thus have different viewpoints on a Lot of things. i am SO excited to see how this is gonna play out oh my days

#the band ghost #ghost bc #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus v #papa v perpetua #papa iv #papa v #ghost copia #rambles #im going insane #not too normal about any of this information #hellequinistic yapping

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avocado-writing · 13 days ago

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eat me drink me

Thank you for being so nice about my first fic, im back! Basically I love him and he needs a good meal. as always sorry for the bad italian

rating: e

words: 1.6k

tags: slight sub!Copia & dom!Reader, light feeding link, blowjob

Your arms ache from the kneading.

It is a good ache though, a content one. One which means you know your hard work will soon pay off. Dough is a wanting mistress and you need to treat her just right or she misbehaves - a firm hand is all that’s needed. A couple more minutes and they’ll be ready for proofing. Most of the hard work is done.

You glance up at the clock. 4:30am. He’ll be down here soon, his very own witching hour. The difference between you being that you’re awake on purpose to start your day early, and he hasn’t yet nodded off.

He sleeps so poorly and it makes your heart hurt for him. How much you long to wrap him in a blanket and settle him down onto a soft mattress, but alas, he is too restless, especially after he’s just come back from a tour - he’s told you that he needs to readjust to the quiet of his bed again after living squeezed into a cot on a bus surrounded by chittering ghouls.

Well, you cannot herd cats and you cannot make Papas go to bed if they don’t want to.

You hear the creak of the door as it opens and a smile spreads across your face. You recognise Copia by his shadow now, cast downwards along the kitchen stairs. He calls your name out as a question and you didn’t realise how much you missed hearing it from his lips.

“I’m here,” you hum back up, and he finally appears. He looks tired, greying hair slicked back messily to keep it out of his eyes, red tracksuit creased and well-worn. You love seeing him like this, it feels like a secret only the two of you share: the real Copia, the man beneath Papa. When he sees you his whole body sags in relief, a weight taken from his shoulders just by being in your company.

“I missed you,” he says as he approaches, words falling from him like he was sat in a confessional. His eyes seem a little sad, as if he doesn’t believe his favourite flour-covered sibling is really in front of him. To ground his reality you reach across the kitchen counter and press a kiss to his mouth, soft and sweet. He luxuriates in the feeling of you, reaching out to touch with needy hands.

“Copia, I am covered in dough.”

“I don’t care, tesoro…”

“Oh? You dough-n’t care?”

The silly wordplay is enough to make him chuckle. You take the lapse in lust to direct him to the chair you always set out next to the counter, the one with the pillow on the seat and back to help him relax better. There is something important that you must take care of.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask. Copia glances at the great clock you have hanging on the kitchen wall as if time has ever had any effect on his cravings. He still hesitates before he makes his request.

“Fettuccine Alfredo?”

His favourite comfort food. You grin.

“Mmm, I had a feeling, so I made fresh pasta earlier.”

He moans, actually moans at that.

“You are too good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world,” you chide, and he knows better than to argue with you at this point.

Long ago, before you came here, your love for food was considered sinful. Gluttonous. You never could understand it, how could something so delicious be bad? Who wouldn’t want to taste the roll of rich butter on their lips? But they called you perverse and, in trying to fix you, led you to His embrace. Here your talents are applauded. Your devotion to your craft is praised; you can share your love of cuisine with willing siblings who appreciate you. It’s home.

When you’d first joined you’d found Copia sneaking down for snacks when you rose to start cooking for the day. At first he’d looked guilty - literally caught with his hand in the cookie jar - but when he learned you didn’t mind anyone who loved your cooking enough to come back for secret seconds, the two of you became friends. Friends became lovers over time, over wine and dinner taken under the silver of the moonlight. When he became Cardinal, though, it didn’t slip your notice that he started to forget to eat. You rarely saw him at breakfast and even less at dinner. So, whenever he comes to you now, you make sure to feed him whatever he wants. You don’t want him wasting away. Besides, how else could you show that you loved him?

“How was the tour? I didn’t catch you when you came back yesterday,” you say, putting the loaves into their proving draw before grabbing a healthy portion of pasta to boil. Copia winces.

“Eh, I know, I’m sorry. I was exhausted after getting back. The ghouls were impatient to return home to the monastery and then Sister wanted a report about how it had gone… this is the first time I’ve had five minutes to myself.”

“And you used them to see me?” you ask, smiling. Copia returns it.

“Who else?”

You get him to fill you in about the tour, all the places he visited, as you watch the pasta boil before draining all but the dregs of starchy water. Copia’s story soon gets lost as he watches you cut a healthy knob of butter from the block you keep outside the fridge, grate Parmesan straight into the pan. Within moments you have a delicious dinner ready for him, shoving a fork into the mess of fettuccine to keep it anchored. You approach him with it brandished… but stop just short of his outstretched hands. Copia whines.

“Copia, when did you last eat a full meal?”

“Eh…” he narrows his eyes, and as they flick left and right you know that he is trying to count the days in his head. You give his shoulder a shove.

“Ugh! I’m sorry, tesoro. It gets difficult on the road. You’re… you take care of me like nobody else does. You don’t know how much I appreciate you, and I don’t know if I can ever show it.”

His honeyed words win you over. You pass him the pasta but he takes your hand with his, kissing along your palm to your wrist, aiming upwards…

“Copia, eat.”

“I do want to eat…” he growls, eyes hungry for more than just his dinner. You won’t be swayed this time, though, and as you drop to your knees you point to his plate.

“Eat.”

“But…” he’s flustered as you go for his waistband, not expecting things to change this quickly. You know if he had his way he’d bend you over the flour-dusted counter and fuck you until you left an imprint of your chest in it. However, the news of his lack of proper meals has worried you, and you’re feeling stern.

“If you stop eating, I’ll stop sucking,” you say simply, pulling his hardening cock from his slacks. You reach out and touch your tongue against the slit, tasting the bead of precum that’s gathered, and he looks at you like you’re a satanic blessing. You don’t continue, though, instead you just stare at the steaming pile of pasta.

Hint taken, he twirls his fork around and shovels a mouthful between his lips.

Satisfied, you begin to take him into your mouth, enjoying the salt which blossoms on your tongue. He hardens to his full length under your attention and you hear him groan as you take him deeper - but you look up sharply when you no longer hear the sound of chewing. Copia stares at you with desperation as you shrug, staying perfectly still with his cock resting between your lips.

“Amore mio…”

His hand reaches towards your hair but you pull back and he realises you aren’t playing a game. He groans and goes back to eating, so you finally take him further, not satisfied until you feel him hit the back of your throat. Copia chokes around his mouthful - you don’t choke around yours - but he dutifully continues to eat, not so fast as to not savour the taste, but fast enough that you’re happy. You bob your head up and down his length slowly, taking him all the way to the base before pulling back to the tip, teasing it with your tongue. You stay like that, a mix of adoration and excruciation, until he finishes every last scrap on his plate. When it’s empty he sets it to the side and you smile, even with your mouth full.

You pop off of him just long enough to say “good boy,” before swallowing him back down again. You’re not sure whether it’s the praise or the overstimulation which has him twitching into your mouth and bucking his hips, but all you know is that he’s coming hot jets down your throat in seconds. You take every drop, watching in delight at the way his soft tummy pulses, hoping you can return some meat to his bones now he’s safe in your care again.

“You’ll ruin me. I’m an old man, I can’t take it, eh?” he mutters as you kiss your way upwards. You let him taste himself on your lips.

“Mmm, I think you’re selling yourself short. Now do you want seconds, papa?”

Copia groans a yes and you know you’ve got him wrapped right around your finger. You’d have it no other way. Besides, the bread needs to rise, and the rest of the monastery is asleep. You’ll have him for long enough.

#Copia x reader #cardinal Copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #Frater imperator x reader #The band ghost x reader #Ghost fanfic

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