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gravehags · 5 months ago

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at the altar of venus

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

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

Words: 4,251

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

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

~~~

What a day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now it’s your turn to frown.

“My love…come here.”

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

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

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

“You eh…you would do that?”

Now you do laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles and tilts his head back.

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

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

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

He smiles, thumbs brushing soft circles on your thighs.

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

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

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

You lean forward and inspect the ink.

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

Copia snickers.

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

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

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

He sucks in a breath so fast he nearly chokes.

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

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

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

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

You lean into his touch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown deeply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs and tilts his head at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grunts and ruts up into your touch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your turn, dolcezza.”

“My turn–oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulls away slightly to rest his chin on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, hon?”

“Mmhmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Augh, it’s wet!”

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

“...You understood all of that?”

You smile.

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

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

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

That makes a horrible noise come out of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dolcezza mia, however you want it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh amore…I insist.”

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

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ashthewaterghoul · 2 months ago

Text

’Cause It Still Makes My Blood Run Cold To Remember What I Did Before - A Banana!Verse One Shot

In the pits, Fire Ghouls were nothing if not warriors; their worth was found in defending and protecting what they held dear while fighting the threat head-on. The latter part may not be possible right now, but if Alpha could keep them all safe, shield them from the torment they’d all been subject to, he would take the looming darkness and become it. His flames were strong enough to stay burning in the dark fog he consumed, yet it just killed him a little more every time he did it. Taking him apart stitch-by-stitch and unravelling him from his very soul outwards. As time went on, he had to wonder when that last stitch would rip open, and he dread to think what the result would be. Or, Alpha has a lot of feelings after mating with Dew, and having to be oh-so-cruel to him to keep him safe from Sister's torment.

Words: 2.6k

Relationships: Alpha/Dew, mentioned Air/Earth and Terzo/Omega

Tags: Angst, feels, nightmares, self-hatred, self-worth issues, mating bond, Alpha needs therapy, suicide by drowning shown in a dream sequence, suicidal thoughts, Alpha is an asshole, but he gets better kinda, one shot, era ii Ghouls wear veils.

Inspired by @anotherbananasong 's amazing universe! I'm like 99% sure this can be read if you're not familiar but obviously I'm going to recommend her blog!!

Title from 'Missing Limbs' by Sleep Token

~~~

Dew shot upright in a cold sweat that instantly evaporated away against his warm skin. His breathing was frantic, his heart beating from his chest and for the life of him couldn’t focus enough to feel the electricity thrumming along the bond that tied him to Alpha.

Alpha himself was in his room deep down in the catacombs. It wasn’t the deepest as that belonged to Lake’s subterranean lair, but it was still deep. Alpha too, was deep but in his own mind. His own loathing for himself.

Read below the cut or on ao3

Alpha did initially detest himself for ruining Dew’s life by mating with him - for desecrating something as precious as the little Fire Ghoul with the sheer and utter monstrosity that was his existence. Yet there was something so tempting and alluring about Dew’s flames dancing in his own soul that made him want to swallow his pride and just be a good mate, asshole-façade be damned.

But that façade would have to stay for a little while. That Satan-forsaken summons to Sister’s office that would damn him and his mate to years of pain that burned deeper than any flame ever could.

“If you even go near this mate-”

“I’m not scared of you, you old hag.”

“Oh, but you should be, Ghoul. He’s highly unstable right now. No one would question if he didn’t pull through.”

“If you hurt him…”

“Secondo and Terzo aren’t here to protect you anymore. Test me, if you’d like.”

And while Alpha would usually see that and indeed test someone, something about the liveliness bouncing across the bond in his soul made him realise he could never let Sister hurt Dew again. The forced transformation and killing their Papas were more than enough…

So instead, Alpha would hurt Dew. Bold displays of neglect and disinterest so there was no fuel to add to Sister’s bonfire of tyranny. He’d do everything he could to make sure Dew never fell for him, to push him away, to keep him safe.

The long nights Alpha would spend sobbing for what he puts Dew through were only mildly comforted by the fact that he was keeping Dew safe. That’s what a good mate did, right? They kept the other safe. So, in a perverse way, Alpha was being a good mate. But then, for a second, he would acknowledge the bond that bound him to Dew and his entire being would be wracked with the desolation and misery that Alpha left the little one in. The biting words, the harsh treatment, the shunning and dismissal and cruelty that Alpha would inflict in what was his best effort to keep Dew safe.

It worked, and he hated himself for it.

He translated it onto the rest of his pack too. He’d rip into River for being a cry-baby, he’d contribute to Air’s status as a walking mattress, and poke at Earth for choosing such a used-up Ghoul for his mate. He’d jab at the suffocating void of grief Omega was left in following the brutal demise of Terzo, his favourite Papa and paramour, and Lake... Well, Lake wasn’t really around enough for Alpha to cause much damage which, deep down, he let himself be thankful for.

When Earth beat him up as a “lesson” he just laid back and took it. He knew he deserved it. And he wanted it to be a lesson, he wanted to listen and be able to love Dew. But he couldn’t. Not without risking the little firefly he was trying so hard to protect. Ripping himself apart to keep Dew safe, that was all that mattered. And it certainly mattered more than any silly little feelings Alpha had.

When news had reached the Ancients that Sister had died, Earth and Air cried in relief that maybe the cruelty the Clergy had subjected them to under her rule could finally end. Alpha took a while before he realised the same could be for him and Dew.

From that point, he counted down the days until the little one had returned from tour. When he could feel the bond was less stretched with distance, and that Dew was home, he actually found himself smiling for the first time in… years, he realises.

Out of a habit he knows shouldn’t need to exist anymore, he sneaks from the catacombs in the middle of the night, and up to Dew’s room. Dew had stood in his doorway, vape in hand and looking completely annoyed by Alpha’s mere presence.

“Alpha, if you’re here to hatefuck, then I’m really not in the mo-”

But Dew is cut off by the most gentle, yet somehow most passionate kiss Alpha had ever given him. More gentle than their night together before Dew’s last tour with Terzo, or even the night they mated.

Alpha pulled back and both Fire Ghouls had tears in their eyes.

It took all of about two seconds before Dew pulled Alpha down by his veil and kissed him again. And Alpha did his best to make up for lost time. He was so gentle and tender with Dew; hailing him like a deity and worshipping him like one too. Treating him so preciously and delicately and with every ounce of love and care his body could muster. Words were never his strong suit, only when they were laced with his Fire and venom, so he said everything with his body instead.

The moment that Alpha silently opened up his side of the bond completely, for the first time ever in the years it had been there, and Dew could finally feel the outpouring of love and affection that Alpha had been holding for him this whole time, they both cried. The sheer relief on their souls from their bond not painfully weighing them down anymore made their hearts feel so full and their souls whole. Alpha’s eyes may have been misted over with tears, but he’d never forget the look on Dew’s face. He even took his veil off, and Dew cried even more. One smaller hand instantly went up into the larger Ghoul’s dark hair and he pulled him back down to kiss him, desperately holding onto him.

Alpha’s only words were a repeat of what he hoped Dew had always known is true, “You are so loved.”

And this time he dared to add, “And by no one more than me.”

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing from that point. Alpha didn’t know how to be a good mate. He was a shit stain on the universe, and he deserved to be nowhere near Dew. Even the deepest pits of Hell were too kind for him. He found himself slipping into old habits of lashing out, and pushing Dew away, refusing to let such a bright spark drown himself out with Alpha’s atrocious presence.

Often, Alpha contemplated walking down to Lake’s domain and asking him to take him to rest in the depths. He knows Lake would do it, and even if he didn’t, Alpha would throw himself down and let himself be taken by the current.

He thought there would be a certain beautiful irony that he would die surrounded by his beloved’s true element, taken from him too soon and too violently. Dew felt his Water be eviscerated by flames, Alpha would feel his Fire suffocated by Water and leaving Dew’s to burn alone by himself. Maybe that would leave a nicer life for the little one.

But as Dew fell asleep alone one night, that was exactly what he saw. He saw his mate as he was now; confused and scared and not knowing what to do in a whirlpool of distress and loathing - hating himself for how he’s treated his mate and pushing Dew away still. Dew saw him get up, and go down to see Lake.

“I can’t.” Alpha said, “Take me, please. I can’t live knowing what I’ve done to him.”

And Lake obliges. He stays completely unglamoured, fins and webbings out so he can have more power in the water. Alpha remains glamoured for the opposite reason. He wants to be weak, because he has been all along. He doesn’t deserve to be strong now, at the end when he wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Sister in the first place. Dew is the one that’s strong, not him. The little light there is down there fades as Alpha’s dragged deeper and deeper down, and his veil comes off and floats up to the surface. Alpha tries to reach for it, because it’s the same colour as Dew’s eyes. But Lake swims and pushes him down faster and faster and Alpha knows he doesn’t deserve that comfort either.

As Alpha’s lungs burn for oxygen, his chest spasms for relief, all he can think off is the panic and confusion he feels from Dew as he races down to the catacombs, only for Lake to later present him with his mate’s lone veil. And Alpha dares to ask Dew to forgive him before his last ember dies out.

As Dew woke, he felt as though it was real. That he’d just somehow witnessed his mate’s death through his unconscious. His mind was in such a state of panic that he couldn’t focus enough on the bond that told him Alpha was indeed still alive.

Dew didn’t bother to put anything on his feet as he raced out of his room in only his boxers and one of Alpha’s t-shirts that was more like a dress on him. He needed to see Alpha. Whether it was him or his body or veil, he had to see him.

He thinks his runs and sobs and shouts for his mate may have woken up Astra but he’d apologise to Air and Earth later. Alpha’s door was open and the Ghoul himself was part-way out before Dew’s heart could scream anymore.

“Dew? What’s wrong?” Alpha asked, having felt Dew’s frenzy and sadness bleed down the bond.

“D- don’t l- l- leave me!” Dew wheezed as he held onto Alpha for dear life, his sprint down to the catacombs combining with his panic leaving him entirely unable to breathe.

“I’m never leaving you again, little one.” Alpha promised as he held Dew, lifting him up so they could lay in his nest.

Dew couldn’t stop crying or get his breathing back under control and Alpha was at a loss. He remembered how he saw Earth snuggling into Air once, apparently it helps his anxiety. So, despite the size difference that would be comical in any other situation, Alpha wrapped his arms around Dew’s waist and laid on top of him, with his head on his abdomen and put his weight down so he acted as an assuring and grounding presence. It worked as Dew’s sobs quietened, and his breathing slowed to something more normal. Dew found himself fidgeting with Alpha’s hair and horns also, a mindless habit he didn’t even realise he was doing until he was back in his own body.

As Dew calmed down and explained his nightmare, Alpha’s fiery blood managed to run cold.

“It felt s- so real.” Dew whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek to join the rest, voice still shaking with adrenaline and emotions.

Alpha swallowed thickly, “It wasn’t, I promise, firefly.”

“Don’t l- let it be real, ever. Please, Alfie?” Dew asked him with big wet eyes.

Alpha raised himself up from his living-weighted-blanket position and looked straight into Dew’s eyes, a large calloused palm resting on Dew’s cheek.

“I won’t let it be real.” Alpha affirmed.

“I have y- you now, and I don’t want t- to lose you, ever. Th- the bond, and having you, I- I never want to go without it again.” The little one said. And he was so painfully little as he curled up against Alpha’s chest, a pointed ear over his heartbeat and a hand over his pec to feel his warm body and steady breathing.

When Dew’s adrenaline and post-breakdown-exhaustion caught up with him and took him back to sleep in Alpha’ arms, the larger Ghoul just hated himself more.

For it being something he so often thought about, dare he say fantasised about, and now seeing how it just being a nightmare to Dew hurt him so much, he only despised himself more for thinking he could ever leave Dew in that much pain.

Once he had promised that he would never make for a good mate, so he would never even try. Now, he doesn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself for all the hurt he caused.

Dew is the lighthouse in the storm that is Alpha’s self-hatred. Originally, he wanted to hate Dew. For making him feel noticed, for choosing him, for luring him in like the Syren he used to be. Then he wanted to hate Dew for giving him life again, a reason to live, for being the tinder for the dying embers of his soul. Dew became the reason Alpha’s flames could burn so so bright, but then he had to repay it by stamping out Dew’s own.

Dew had mentioned to Air he almost feels as though he’s Water again. Because he is just the most powerful tidal wave of love for his mate that he never lets up on, and he uses it to slowly corrode away the behemoth of a wall that Alpha’s put up.

And Dew is so happy now. His flames have been burning brighter than ever as they happily danced alongside Alpha’s. Alpha doesn’t think he could ever bring himself to hurt Dew again, which he knows is a good thing. But Dew forgave him so easily, even without knowing the threat of Sister’s cruelty was the reason behind it all, and Alpha knows it would kill him if he ever betrayed Dew again. Yet now he’s seen how Dew reacts to even just a mirage of his deserving demise; how could he ever even think about putting Dew through the real thing?

Alpha had desecrated his gift from Lucifer too many times, defiled his pure and beautiful soul with his horrid treatment. He wanted so badly to make up for it, yet he found himself completely unworthy. Despite the long and arduous process of healing they’d both go through, Alpha knows there is always going to be a very loud and obnoxious part of his mind that will always make him hate himself. And while Dew would be there to constantly adore and reassure Alpha - being the tsunami of love to drown anything else out - Alpha would often find himself listening to that obstinate part. Spiralling to the voice of unreason that told him to shut Dew out again because he truly didn’t deserve such a gorgeous little firefly to be his.

Alpha couldn’t decide what was worse. Dew finding someone who was actually worthy of him, or giving in and loving his mate in every way he deserves and more.

One shot master post can be found here!

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theunholybastard · 3 months ago

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Kinktober: October 4th - Dry-Humping (Cardinal Copia x Gender-Neutral!Reader)

Tags: Established Relationship, Dry-Humping, Drunkenness, Desperation, Humiliation, Light Pet Play (If You Squint), Premature Ejaculation, Fluff And Smut, All The Papas Are Alive, First Person POV

I can't take Copia anywhere. It was supposed to be a nice, simple celebration dinner, to congratulate him on his success of joining the band. Who cares if he's not officially Papa just yet? It's still a momentous achievement for him, one he's been working for all his life, and I couldn't be prouder.

I've been with Copia since he first became a Cardinal, and I've known him for even longer. I know he's an intelligent, capable, hardworking man, someone with immeasurable patience and courtesy, a true gentleman; That is, until you get a few drinks in him.

It was Terzo who brought the wine. What I used to think was a kind gesture to show there was no ill-will between the two, turned out to be a revenge tactic to get Copia to embarrass himself in front of the whole Clergy. Copia smiled thankfully at him, and unable to resist, he poured himself a glass of wine. And then two. And then three.

Terzos smirk grew the more Copia drank, which only earned him a death glare from Sister Imperator, who saw through his whole schtick immediately. She'll surely have his head for this one. I unfortunately didn't notice, therefore couldn't stop Copia, until it was too late. We had to leave the dinner party early, Copia tripping, knocking things over, and making loud sexual remarks to me the whole time it took to drag him out. I could hear other members of the Clergy mumbling to Sister Imperator, asking if he was really the right man for the job.

"Oh, amore mio, you looked positively delicious tonight. I could barely keep my hands off you, topolino..." Copia purrs in my ear as I lay him down on the bed, wiping off his eye paints for him. I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I know. You said that earlier, in a room full of upper Clergy members, remember?" I scoff sarcastically, my cheeks still glowing with embarrassment. He only smiles dazily, as if he didn't retain a single word I said. "Così bello, così bello..." He mutters to himself, running his fingers through my hair. How can I stay mad at him when he's this cute?

"Uh huh. Now sit up, I gotta get you undressed." I order gently, hoping he will make this easier for me, but honestly, when has he ever? He chuckles. "I like your way of thinking, amore. My pants are getting so tight, I need to be freed of them..." He winks, or at least I think he attempted to. He's so drunk he just ended up blinking really hard. I am not amused.

I look down at his lap, and lo and behold, hes telling the truth. His tight pants are constricting over his massive erection, and his lack of underwear makes it so I can see the outline in great detail. It twitches visibly, making me blush, but I do not give into temptation. He's drunk, after all. "Copia, you need to get some rest."

"How can I sleep when my cock is awake?" He slurs, nuzzling his face into my neck, nibbling gently, and turning his body to press his hard-on against my thigh. "Your Cardinal hurts, topolino. Won't you help him?" He rocks his hips, grinding his clothed cock against me, whimpering into the crook of my neck. I laugh softly at his act of desperation.

"The answer is no, my love. But you are more than welcome to take care of yourself." I hum softly, deciding getting him ready for bed can wait till he gotten all his sexual frustrations out. I expected him to sloppily yank off his pants and jerk himself off, but it seems he had other plans. He rocks his hips forward again, his eyes rolling back at the friction.

"Oh, so that's how you wanna do this, hm? You wanna hump my leg like a dog?" I snicker. He swears under his breath, his thrusts speeding up. I didn't know my words would have such an effect on him, but I'm certainly not complaining. I continue. "This is what you wanted? To act like a pathetic, drooling mutt, desperate for pleasure?" He lets out a choked whine one could almost mistake for a sob, and nods, too caught up in his frantic self-gratification to respond verbally.

His movements are feverishly swift, like he needs to use my body to survive, panting and growling like a rabid animal. His hands harshly grope whatever part of my body he can reach. He will no doubt be repeatedly apologizing later for the fingertip-shaped bruises littering my hips and stomach, no matter how much I tell him I don't mind. I hold back a giggle at the thought, not that he would notice if I did in his frenzied state.

He's barely been going at this for a few minutes, and already his thrusts are becoming weaker, his little whimpers and grunts become louder and more frequent, and his face contorts tightly. Before I even recognize the pattern, a long sigh escapes his lips, his expression relaxes, and his tight pants are now dampened, cumming in record-breaking time.

"Cazzo...! I- I would've lasted longer, if it wasn't for this... g- goddamn wine..." He hiccups, slurring his words sleepily, and ending his sentence with a loud snore, officially passed out. I laugh. "Let's get you cleaned up, Cardinal." I say, tugging off his pants, throwing them in the overflowing hamper. Copia can deal with that load (literally) in the morning.

Once I managed to wrestle all of the sweat-dampened clothes off of his limp body, I lay back in bed with him, exhaling deeply. The things I do for this man, I think to myself. It's all worth it though, when I feel his warmth against me. He lets out a little noise of content, his mustache twitching. He subconsciously pulls me closer, and as our bodies intertwine, I let his soft breathing lull me to sleep. I think I could love him forever.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost band smut #cardinal copia #papa copia #popia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader smut #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader smut #cardi c #nameless ghouls #copia emeritus #kinktober 2024 #ghost band fanfic #ghost kinktober

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skele-bunny · 4 months ago

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The council has spoken.

RRAAA ALPHABELL!!!! ( Tiny tag: @ourfatherwhoartinhell , @artificialmoth !) they are CHEESY. And they are in LOVE!! I refuse to hear otherwise.

It was a strange welcome when Cowbell joined the group on tour, just all smiles and waving. Just excited to be out of the abbey and experience something he never really "qualified" for. Just staring out the window and always asking questions. Never really bothered the others, they've been around Bell for a LONG time. But it's such a new light to see their elder in such a new state of pure wonder and curiosity, especially to Alpha.

Alpha's always been curious about Bluebell to be honest, just her mannerisms and how he engages with the world on such a different view than other ghouls. How he's more human just like Special. They've always gotten along, never had any issues but it's just... Something about being stuck on the road for such a long time, together, that Alpha starts feeling a bit weird about it all.

He's suddenly more aware of her. Of how she smiles, his stuffy laugh, how she clings to Terzo's shirt when in a new place, how when he takes his hearing aids out he seems SO much calmer while looking out the window. Just how Bell seems to be an entirely different person. His staring being noticed by the others and teased about it, just getting eye rolls and shooing them away.

"Big dog crushing on the sheep? Aww!" Omega just snickering before Alpha kicks him off the couch in the lounge.

Alpha does NOT have feelings for Bluebell. He's adamant about that!! Just because his face warms up every time they make eye contact, just because he felt his heart go a bit faster when Bell held his arm as Terzo was unavailable, just because she fell asleep on his chest while watching a movie and he adjusted to where her head wouldn't fall, just because he's daydreaming about the null ghoul almost constantly, doesn't mean he... Has... ... Fuck.

He's head over heels, isn't he?

Bell being the first one to make Alpha's fire go blue for the first time...... Just admiring as they're bunked together in a hotel, Alpha cupping a small flame and Bell carefully reaching forward to touch it and oh man... How her eyes lit up as it turned to a gentle blue, dancing over his fingertips before he pulled back. Alpha is blushing HARDCORE. They just keep eye contact for a minute, Alpha hesitating if he should lean forwards or not. Just as he's about to, Aër knocks at their door and Alpha combusts all over again. (Aër doesn't hear the end of it from the others for interrupting them trying to matchmake.)

Finally he gets the balls the last week of tour, Bell so burnt out and tired but happy and eager when Alpha asks him; "Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Bell's never been good at holding glamour for long let alone being in super crowded spaces (they learned that VERY quickly at the start), but Alpha's aware of that! Just orders something to go at some little diner and walks to the park, just the two of them laughing and talking — even to the point Bluebell starts rambling about a new pack of buttons she got from Terzo a few days ago. And he's ALL for it. Just watching with admiration as she's info dumping about all kinds of buttons she has. 2-holes, 4-holes, snap buttons, you name it! Just going on and on about what they're best used for and rocking back and forth.

"What's this button good for?" Just shows his flannel and Bell gets close, just admiring with a big ole smile.

"It's a shank button which means it makes everything go more flat, more smooth, and provides a pretty look!" And she just looks up, cheeks red before finally mumbling out. "I think it works well... You really do look pretty.."

And Alpha just sighs. "I think you look pretty, too... All the time, really."

They're just staring before Bell reaches his hands up, fingers so gentle as he runs over his stubble and jawline. Alpha finally taking the moment to lean in with such space first just in case Bell pulls away. But he doesn't. So Alpha finishes it. Holds her hips so gently before pulling back and they're both just a smiling, laughing mess before Bell literally jumps on Alpha, just kissing him over and over again. They just walk back hand-in-hand, a smile that can't be removed. The entire ride home they're inseparable, Bell just tapping his chest before pointing at her mouth, indicating for a kiss.

"If I see them do it one more time I think the bus is going to end up Valentine's themed." And Aër just gets a pillow thrown at him by Omega.

Alpha loves Bell AS Bell. Not as anything else. Loves her when she's deaf, loves her when her hearing aids are in. Loves him when he's overstimulated, loves him when he's under stimulated, loves him when he's content. Loves hearing his rambles about buttons and weapons. Especially loves watching her small sheep tail just go 100 mph almost all the time.

Bell loves him just as much. Always getting excited when he stops by to visit her and literally picking him up to hug. How he'll get all embarrassed when Alpha does a pushup with her on his back. Just making gifts for him CONSTANTLY that he shows off soooo proudly, specifically when Bell hand carved a burning rose for him. Always whiny when they're away but bursting with joy when he comes back and flops into Bell's arms. Just slowly tracing down his scars from the pits and some topside, kissing each one and purring.

They're so good at taking care of each other's needs, too ;-;. Alpha knowing when to not touch or warm up his hands to help center Bell down. Bell knowing how to calm Alpha down when he has rage fits. How Bell will let Alpha hold his tiny tail or run fingers through his fur, just as much Alpha lets her run her fingers over his horns and jaw again.

GAAHH tall gf and short bf & sheep and herding dog trope my beloved..... Idk man I just love them a lot wjjwjd

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #alpha ghoul #cowbell ghoul #alphabell

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ghulehunknown · 1 year ago

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Mountain x AFAB Reader

NSFW — MDNI

Summary: You and Mountain take a break from your duties to have a little fun in his room.

CW/Tags: sex toy use, tail fucking, masturbation, unprotected sex (P in V and anal), double penetration

Word Count: 2.4K

“You bought how many toys, Mounty?”

“Um, just a few.”

“It looks like a lot.”

“Yes, well - Santa came early.” You stared blankly at him as he shrugged. “I didn’t know what to get so I just got the ones that I dunno, looked the best and had good reviews?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well I guess you get to choose which one you want.”

“Ah, okay. Well this one here also goes up my ass. Which might be kinda nice. Um okay, these two vibrate, but one has a remote…” He flicked his eyes up to yours. “Uhh. And one of those extends down to my taint, I think? Oh, that’s the one Copia suggested. But it should feel nice for you too, you know, if we - yeah. This one is just a silicone dildo. Oh, and this one goes over my balls.”

“The vibrating ones sound nice,” you said, nodding.

“I can’t choose. What if I just…I dunno, use them all?”

“All of them?” you asked incredulously. “Think you can handle that?”

“I guess it’s time for me to be a ho ho ho,” he remarked with a small smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly joke. He never failed to put a smile on your face. You supposed that was why he was your favorite.

You looked back on the events from the days prior that led you into his bedroom for this very exchange. You were making Secret Satan cards for the children’s hospital in the library, making out with each other in between cards, desperately trying not to make any noise while the other Siblings were working or studying - and failing, miserably. He caressed your body with his tail, completely taking you by surprise.

You had made a one-off comment, without even thinking. “Damn, you fuck with that thing too?”

“Yeah actually I do,” he replied, his face stoic but eyes twinkling.

“Hm, I’d like to see that,” you said - again, what were you thinking? This was insane. Plus, he was one of Cardinal Copia’s head ghouls…you really couldn’t afford to distract him. But the holidays were here, which meant the band was getting a lengthy and much needed break. So maybe this was your chance at giving into your desires.

You finished up the cards, stacking them neatly in a pile. You were supposed to be helping the Siblings decorate and Mountain was supposed to meet the other ghouls in the mess hall before Mass. But…you had more important matters to attend to. You had agreed, since this would be your first time with a ghoul and adding a tail in the mix, that he should try a new experience too.

You walked together down the hallway towards the Ghoul dormitories, arms linked as you people watched. There were multiple Siblings hanging up garlands and lights along the corridors and you even spotted Papa Terzo terrorizing some young Sisters of Sin.

“Jingle Balls, suck my balls, make my chimney rise. Oh what fun it is to cum on my amore’s thighs,” he sang, draping tinsel around one’s neck and dangling some mistletoe in another’s face.

“…and I heard Satan’s hells bells on the rooftop, I swear it, I did!” you heard Nihil say to Imperator who merely said “Of course, Papa,” as she led him down the hall towards the chapel.

Finally, you made your way past the hustle and bustle of the busy Ministry hallways to the Ghoul dorms. As one of the top Clergy member’s head ghouls, Mountain actually had his own room. But he shared a wall with Swiss and Dew on either side, who would tease him relentlessly if they heard any goings on in the night.

So you opted for the middle of the evening, when everyone was likely to be at Mass. And here you were, your very first dick appointment with a ghoul.

You both kneeled in front of each other in his bed, and leaned into kiss one another, his arms holding onto yours and his tail wrapping around your thigh.

Fuck, maybe being with a ghoul would be better…it was almost like being held by three hands.

The tail was surprisingly soft, not sharp at the end even though the arrowhead tip looked pointy. It approached you just as softly as Mountain wanted, and you knew he could be just as rough as he wanted to be too.

You ran your hands through his hair, his short dark locks tickling your fingertips. His kiss was passionate, deep. His lips were soft and inviting.

He gingerly moved his tail up your legs, in between them, and slowly slipped the tip between your labia. You inhaled sharply as the fleshy bit met your sensitive bud, pressing on it almost like a button.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed.

He paused, pulling his tail sway slightly. “You okay?” he said, holding your face in his hands.

“Yeah, I - yeah, no - god, it’s just so…fuck, it feels amazing. Please, do it again.”

“My pleasure.” He re-entered, maneuvering around your folds and finding your slick pooled near your entrance. He poked around, gathering your arousal and sliding it around, back up to your clit and focusing there. “You’re so wet already. Good girl,” he purred. His cock twitched against your leg, bobbing up and down as he slowly grinded against you.

“Should we put a cock ring on you?” you whispered breathlessly, smiling as you nodded towards the bedside table.

Carefully, you helped him put the vibrating ring on. He spread lube on it and his whole member while you warmed some up in your hands and spread it along his perineum.

“Mmm,” he moaned quietly at your touch, closing his eyes.

You clicked the toy to its lowest vibration setting.

“Oh, god! Shit, they weren’t kidding! Ahhh. This is, oh fuck, wow!” His hand flew to his cock, which was bobbing up and down involuntarily.

“And that’s just the first setting. I’m guessing the other toys are a no-go?” you asked, hovering over him still, straddling his thigh.

He let out a sound that didn’t sound too convincing. “Yeeeeah…? Um, this is fine. Actually -” He clicked the vibrator off and handed you the remote for it. “When it looks like I need it.”

“I’ll tease you with it,” you said, trailing your hand along his balls and up his shaft.

“You better not,” he said, biting at your nose and missing as you pulled your head back in time. “All right. First time getting tail fucked. Ready?”

You rolled your eyes and pretended to punch him in the chest. “Yes, I’m ready.” How much different could it be, really? “I’m more concerned for you. You’ve never used a cock ring before, let alone a vibe,” you said, widening your eyes.

“We’ll be okay,” he said. Something in the soothing way he spoke, ugh you could just melt into him.

He leaned back against the headboard, his arm bent behind his head to prop himself up. “Ahhh,” he uttered, hissing, guiding his hand over yours stroking his cock. “Sssoo good.”

He looked you in the eyes as he touched himself, bringing his tail in between your legs again, pushing past your folds this time and going straight for your wet core.

You leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands behind you, moaning as he entered you, tossing your head back as your neck went slack. You straddled his waist, almost like you were scissoring.

You watched his tail slide in and out of you repeatedly, moving in a wave-like pattern with a dexterity that a finger or a cock couldn’t provide.

Your body relaxed and you slid onto your back, staring at the ceiling. Finally, the tip of his tail found your g-spot, and as you shuddered against his legs and let out a guttural sound you didn’t even know you could make, he made an “ah-ha!” sound and you could feel him add more pressure to your spot. All the muscles in his tail flexed, going tap tap tap along your walls. You clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive,” he said, letting out an amused chuckle. “You’re fun.”

You shook yourself out of a trance-like state, almost entirely forgetting he was there. You forgot he was watching you like you were his own little porno, touching himself to the vision of you before him.

You leaned against his leg, resting your head by his knee. You lazily tickled along his thighs, in between his legs, caressing him, and looking into his eyes as you kissed his inner thigh. You shifted more on your back, arching it, resting one leg on his shoulder so his tail could go deeper inside you. He held onto your ankle by his shoulder, kissing it.

His tail flicked in and out of you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. He slipped out of you and up to your clit, massaging it with the tip.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed. He tapped it against you in rapid succession - taptaptaptaptaptap - fucking hell! It had to be the musician in him, the quick and agile reflexes. He rubbed the upper part of his tail against your length, before flicking the arrowhead against your clit repeatedly. “Mounty, I’m going to cum! Fuck!!”

He held onto your leg, caressing it, while stroking himself with his other hand. He picked one motion and stuck with it - a firm, but gentle massage on your clit with his tailtip.

Your whole body quivered, your orgasm spilling over. You moaned and clutched onto his leg, biting into his skin to muffle the utterly pathetic moans you know would be coming out of your mouth.

“Ow, shit!” he exclaimed but you could barely hear him.

You bucked your hips against his tail to ride out the last smaller waves of your climax, before settling down again. He retracted his tail from between your legs, and you were left staring at the ceiling for a moment before hearing your name being called over and over again.

“Mmm?” you muttered. “Oh, sorry for biting you.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you were enjoying yourself.”

You nodded feebly, feeling a little pathetic, but utterly blissed out.

“Think you have one more round in you?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, not even giving an answer.

He patted the mattress beside him. “C’mere.” He pulled you back up to your knees, which were trembling, between his legs. He held your chin in his hand and whispered, “You wanna know what it’s really like to get fucked?” You nodded in his palm. “Good girl.”

You straddled his waist, hovering over his still erect cock.

“Did you want to use protection?” he asked, leaning over to his drawer to reach inside for some condoms. You shook your head. “You sure?”

You nodded and said, “Yes. Please Mountain, please just fuck me.”

He handed you the ring vibrator remote, but spoke before fully relinquishing it to you. “You hold great power in your hands. Use it well.”

Fucking nerd. You laughed at his corny ass joke and nodded, saying, “Yes sir,” in a fake serious voice.

He leaned over for the lube bottle and spread some all over his hands, covering his tail with it then circling your asshole, getting it nice and wet. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he took your waist in his hands, guiding you over his cock, lining it up with your entrance, then sinking you down onto his lap.

Fuck, he felt so good. It was incredible. And very different from the tail. His cock was firmer, building a different kind of pressure but every bit as pleasurable. You both moaned as you sank slowly on him. You moved your hips up and down, already so tired from before, and starting to falter.

His tail wrapped around your ass before teasing and prodding around it, finally slipping in. The feeling, while out of this world, was incredibly overwhelming. You fell down on his cock with zero grace, shuddering and breathing loudly, moaning every few breaths.

“Mmm!” he groaned, grimacing. He said your name through gritted teeth.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s okay, it takes a lot more than your beautiful ass to hurt me,” he said with a smile, kissing your lips sweetly while giving your rear a smack. “Mm? Everything okay?”

“I can’t, Mounty, I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

With zero hesitation, he removed his tail from your rear end and started to pull himself out of your entrance.

“No, no, fuck, please that feels so good. I just can’t, my legs are fucking jello. I need you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” he said warmly. He picked you up, his strong hands grasping your waist as he slammed you up and down on his cock. He pummeled into you from below. “Just relax, I got this.”

“Ahhh, fuck!” you wailed, his tail entering your ass once more, this time without teasing the invitation but instead thrusting in with more force. You let your body slack against his, letting him do all the work.

“Remember your very important job?” he said, eyeing the remote that fell out of your hand.

You nodded, tears in your eyes from the intense sensations ripping through your body. You clicked the button, feeling the buzz of the ring on his cock rub against your clit everytime you fell back down on him. You bared down, grinding against the ring and rubbing yourself along his pubic bone. You clicked the next button, heightening the sensation for you both.

“Oh god - I’m not gonna last,” he grunted. “I’m going to cum. Is it okay if I finish inside you?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you said breathlessly.

“You sure? Last chance before I blow.”

“Stop being so polite and just fucking cum inside me!” you shouted.

“Christ, okay!” He groaned as he continued to fuck into you, jerking his hips forward as he shot warm semen inside you, spilling out. He stopped, still holding onto you, burying his face in your chest, breathing heavily. You sat on his cock, the buzz of the cock ring now sitting against your clit. From that and his tail still prodding away at your ass, you came again just a few seconds after him.

“See,” you began, breathing hard and climbing up to him. “When you asked if I wanted to know what it’s really like to get fucked, I swear I thought you were going to use your drumsticks.”

“The thought crossed my mind. So how was it? Any different? Just as good…better?”

“Yeah…like a really wiggly dick,” you answered truthfully.

He laughed boisterously at you. “I always appreciate your candor.”

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc #ghost band smut #ghoul smut #ghost band ghouls #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #mountain ghost #ghost mountain #mountain ghoul x reader #ghost band fanfiction

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bupia · 1 year ago

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Serendipity: Chapter 3 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: After the unforgettable kiss from the previous night, anxiety dominated your thoughts as you awaited the eagerly anticipated meeting with Copia the next morning. However, the excitement was tinged with a hint of apprehension, as you could barely predict how he would behave. The warmth of the previous night contrasted dramatically with the coldness and distance of this morning.

Words: 10.485

Available on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Masterlist | Tag list

Day 3: The Garden.

As you woke up, it was impossible not to dwell on what had transpired the previous night. The taste of wine lingered on your lips, and you could still vividly recall the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the sensation of his kiss. The memory of Papa Emeritus IV's kiss was etched in your mind, a tantalizing and haunting presence that made it challenging to begin your morning without his image and the events of the night dominating your thoughts.

After rising from your bed, you gravitated toward the window. Would you catch another glimpse of him today? You gazed outside for a few minutes, fully aware that yesterday he passed through the garden around this time. However, to your disappointment, he walked by without stopping, not even casting a glance at your window. A pang of sadness gripped your heart, but you tried to console yourself with the thought that perhaps he was preoccupied or had other responsibilities.

You knew the likely place to find him: the cafeteria. So, you quickly changed out of your nightclothes and selected a more suitable outfit for the day, then ventured out of your room with the intent of meeting him there.

As you traversed the living room, Terzo couldn't help but notice your hurried steps. He cleared his throat to get your attention, sitting on the couch with Andras in his lap while sipping coffee. A small, knowing smirk danced on his lips.

"Did Copia arrive safely at his chambers yesterday?" he inquired.

"Yes, Papa," you replied, turning to face him, hoping to divert your thoughts from the previous night's kiss to avoid any visible signs of embarrassment.

"Bene, molto bene," Terzo said, taking another sip of his coffee. "Are you on your way to meet him?"

You tried to sound nonchalant. "Yes, well, I was thinking about going to the cafeteria again for breakfast with the other ministry members."

Terzo chuckled slyly. "Sì, è interessante. We have a dinner planned for today, just among ourselves, no clergy involvement. Would you like to join us?"

You eagerly agreed, though you tried to temper your enthusiasm. "Yes, of course, Papa. That would be a pleasure. Thank you for the invitation."

"Naturalmente," Terzo replied. "Now, per favore, don't let me keep you here. Vai a goderti la colazione."

You nodded, excusing yourself, and made your way to the front door. With anticipation building, you navigated the corridors almost on autopilot, too lost in thought to pay attention to your surroundings. It felt as though your body was being pulled toward the place where you were sure to find him.

As you reached the door of the cafeteria, your excitement couldn't be contained any longer. Your gaze darted inside, and there he was, seated at a table, staring out of the window with his mug in hand, lost in thought. You bit your lower lip in anticipation and made your way to his table.

"Good morning, Papa," you greeted him, coming to a halt beside his table.

Copia jerked in his seat, and he turned his gaze toward you, although he avoided making direct eye contact, continuing to focus on the window outside. "Buongiorno," he replied in a cold tone.

Your bottom lip trembled, and your jaw clenched. A lump formed in your throat, and a chill ran through your body at his frigid response. Uncertainty weighed heavy in the air as you stood there, unsure of what had changed since the previous night. Copia's distant demeanor was a stark contrast to the intimacy you two had shared, and it left you feeling vulnerable and anxious.

"Is everything all right, Papa?" you ventured, your voice quivering slightly.

Copia finally turned his gaze to meet yours, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. But it was quickly replaced by an unreadable expression, and he simply shrugged. "Just a bit tired."

You nodded, though it was clear there was more to it. "If you need anything, Papa, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm here for you."

He nodded in acknowledgment, and you took that as your cue to leave him to his thoughts. As you walked away, your heart weighed heavy with uncertainty, still processing the abrupt shift in his behavior and desperately hoping it was just a momentary lapse.

Leaving the cafeteria, your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and self-doubt. Copia's sudden change in demeanor left you questioning everything. Had the kiss been a mistake? Did he regret it? What had you done to make him act so cold and distant? A myriad of thoughts and possibilities raced through your mind.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and honestly, you couldn't blame yourself. You hadn't built up any fairy tale ideas about Copia falling head over heels for you and asking you to stick around forever. You were way past those innocent dreams, and Copia, well, he was in a league of his own, far from any prince charming.

What hurt the most wasn't that he might regret the kiss or didn't share your feelings. It was the way he acted, completely distant and cold. You weren't asking for much, just a little bit of kindness or acknowledgment, and it felt like he couldn't even muster that.

"Hey!"

A voice, tinged with recognition, emanated from your side, and you swiveled your head to find Dewdrop approaching.

"Came to meet Pa..." he started, but his words caught in his throat as he observed the distress etched across your face. He swiftly moved closer, reaching out to grasp your hand. "Who?"

"Who what?"

"Hurt you." Dewdrop's concern was palpable in the grip of his hand and the worry etched in his eyes.

You sighed and shook your head, not wanting to burden him with your troubles. "It's nothing, really," you mumbled, trying to downplay the situation.

He leaned in closer, his expression one of sincere worry. "Don't hide it from me. I can see something's bothering you. Tell me what happened."

"Papa... he..." you began, but your words were cut short as Dewdrop embraced you tightly, enfolding you in a comforting hug.

"I wish I could say I'd kick his ass, but I can't do that to a Papa. So, in my mind, just so you know, I'm mentally kicking his fucking ass," Dewdrop muttered with a hint of anger. "Now, tell me..." His voice softened. "What did he do?"

"He kissed me," you confessed.

"He, what-?" Dewdrop exclaimed, seizing your arms and gently drawing you out of the hug, his eyes locked onto yours with an inquisitive intensity. "And you're upset because of it?"

"No," you replied, your head shaking slowly. "Well, a bit, yes."

"You wanted the kiss, right?" Dewdrop inquired, his eyes searching your face for answers.

"I did," you confirmed, your voice steady.

"So, what's bothering you then?" Dewdrop asked.

"I didn't have any expectations, but I didn't think he'd act so distant today," you admitted with a heavy sigh.

Dewdrop sighed in response, then reached out to gently place a reassuring hand on your head. "Look, why don't you try talking to him? They're having dinner tonight, right? Maybe you should give it a shot."

"What if he ignores me?"

"Then you ignore him," Dewdrop chuckled, pressing his masked face affectionately against your forehead. "Don't overthink it. I've got to run now; I came to fetch him from breakfast for his morning meeting. So, please, don't stress too much. Sometimes, there's more to the story than you know."

With those parting words of wisdom, Dewdrop left you. You couldn't help but consider that something might be going on with him, causing this shift in behavior. Perhaps he was facing personal issues or challenges that were affecting his mood.

You tried to rationalize the situation, reminding yourself that you might not be the problem at all. Copia had been under immense pressure and had been dealing with the weight of his new role as the Papa Emeritus. It was possible that his behavior was influenced by external factors, such as stress, fatigue, or even a migraine.

You decided to let go of the current confusion and give Copia some space. There were still several hours until the planned dinner, and you hoped that by then, he would be in better spirits. You understood that he was going through a challenging time, but it was hard to reconcile the cold demeanor after the kiss.

Back at the Papal Apartment, you spent the day assisting Angèle with taking care of Andras. Your mind was preoccupied with anticipation and uncertainty, as you looked forward to the evening and the chance to see him again, with the hope that things would be different and you could better understand what had happened. Angèle couldn't help but notice your anxious expressions. She frequently inquired if you were alright, concerned for your well-being. However, you found yourself lying, unable to share the true reason behind your unease.

As the hour for the dinner approached, Terzo and his family had already left for the event, leaving you alone in the Papal apartment to prepare. You had chosen a simple yet elegant black tea-length dress with lace detailing and half sleeves, finished with a mandarin collar. A pair of modest block-heel ankle shoes completed your outfit.

You gave yourself one final glance in the mirror, feeling a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The morning's encounter with Copia still weighed on your mind, but you reminded yourself to push those thoughts aside. There was no point in dwelling on it when you didn't even know the cause. You took a deep breath and forced a smile, determined to make the most of the dinner. Maybe Copia would be different, maybe he'd treat you differently, and perhaps he'd even compliment your appearance.

With that hopeful thought in mind, you left your room and made your way to the living room. There, you found Omega seated on the couch. Omega was one of Terzo's ghouls and had a more distant relationship with you compared to Dewdrop, who was closer. Omega had taken on various responsibilities within the ministry following Terzo's departure as the Papa Emeritus. He often handled matters personally requested by Terzo.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, quickly rising from the couch as he noticed your presence. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I am," you replied with a warm smile, pleasantly surprised to find Omega here. "I didn't expect you'd be the one accompanying me today."

Omega explained, "Dewdrop and the other Ghouls have already joined Papa Copia's entourage. They accompany him at events like this, and Dewdrop is among them."

"So, you'll be my company for today?" you inquired.

"Precisely."

Omega extended his hand, and you reached out to take it. He placed your hand on his arm, and together, you walked toward the front door, which he courteously opened for you. Stepping outside, he followed you, closing the door behind him.

Curious, you asked, "Where are we going today?"

Omega offered a reassuring smile. "It's not a grand affair, just a dining salon."

"Sounds fancy," you remarked with a touch of excitement.

Omega chuckled, "It's not as fancy as it may seem."

With a hint of insecurity, you admitted, "I've never been to one of these before. Do you think my attire is suitable?"

"I think you look beautiful," Omega reassured you warmly.

You returned the compliment, admiring his appearance. "Well, and you look exceptional. I see you have new clothes, but your mask remains the same."

Omega shrugged, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "I like my old mask. It brings a sense of nostalgia, but I also enjoy my new role within the Clergy."

You nodded, offering his arm a friendly squeeze. As you continued to stroll through the hallways, the conversation flowed naturally, and you were glad to have Omega by your side. Despite not being particularly close, you found him to be a pleasant and comforting presence.

"You know, we haven't seen each other much recently," he started.

"Yes, I figured you were quite busy lately."

"I am, but there's more to it," he confirmed.

Curious, you asked, "What do you mean?"

"I can tell when something's bothering you. I can see it in your eyes," he explained.

You lowered your gaze, and Omega came to a stop, taking a step closer to face you. Gently, he raised your chin and tilted your face to meet his gaze. Behind his mask, his eyes gleamed, and you took a deep breath.

"What happened to you today?" Omega inquired softly.

You hesitated, then replied, "It's nothing, really."

He continued to study your eyes. "If it's nothing, then why do I sense a hint of sadness in your eyes?"

You sighed and finally confessed, "Something happened this morning, and it bothered me. I'm not even sure why."

"It's always okay to talk about it, you know," he said gently. "Sometimes, sharing what's on your mind can make the burden feel lighter."

"It's just... this morning," you began, "Copia, he... acted so distant and cold. It was a complete change from what happened last night."

Omega nodded in acknowledgment. "I see. You had an encounter with him last night?"

"Sort of. Terzo asked me to accompany him to his chambers because Copia appeared rather tipsy from the wine, and then, he kissed me," you confessed, feeling a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "It took me by surprise, but it was... good"

Omega's lips curled into a sly smile. "Terzo..." he uttered, his voice laced with a hint of displeasure. "So, it was that kiss that ignited your hopes for today?"

You nodded. "A little, and then, this morning, he acted as if nothing had happened. I don't understand what changed, or if I did something wrong."

Omega's reassuring tone was filled with understanding. "People can be complicated, and Copia is no exception. Don't be too hard on yourself. It's possible he's dealing with something on his end that's affecting his behavior."

"Thank you, Omega," you said, giving him a warm smile.

Omega returned your smile warmly and gently linked his arm with yours once more as you continued walking together.

"You don't need to thank me," he reassured you. "I'm honestly surprised that Copia kissed you."

You giggled, still feeling a bit shy about the unexpected kiss. "He did! But, hey, about that, please don't tell anyone, okay? Not even Papa Terzo."

Omega nodded with a knowing expression. "You can be sure I won't share that with anyone. Especially Terzo."

"Thank you," you replied, relieved. "And... why does it surprise you?"

Omega considered your question for a moment before responding. "Copia is a complex individual, and he tends to keep his personal life rather private. To see him take such an initiative and reveal a more intimate side is unusual. In other words, he is shy, or at least he never behaved like his other brothers."

"You're suggesting..."

Omega smiled, his eyes gleaming behind the mask. "I haven't witnessed it myself, so perhaps he did, but I can't say for sure. I've been around for a long time, and I'm quite familiar with Primo, Secondo, and Terzo."

"I see..."

Omega continued with reassuring words. "But trust me, I don't believe Copia would ignore you or act cold without a valid reason. It's not like him, so there's probably something on his mind that's bothering him. I wouldn't worry too much."

You nodded, realizing that perhaps your overthinking had led to unnecessary concern. "You're right, I might be overthinking it."

As you and Omega continued walking to the dinner venue, you were surprised to find that it wasn't very far from the Papal apartment. Omega stopped in front of the door, his gentlemanly demeanor shining through as he reached for the doorknob and held it open for you to pass through. You entered the room, and your eyes instantly met Copia's.

Copia sat in a chair at the head of the table, his attention drawn towards the door as you entered. His initial reaction suggested he was about to rise from his seat, but as he noticed Omega following you and placing his hand on your lower back in a gesture of chivalry, Copia's gaze shifted away from yours.

Omega leaned closer to your ear and whispered, "I'm going back now. Promise me you'll enjoy the dinner."

With a reassuring smile, you turned your face towards Omega and nodded, silently acknowledging the unspoken understanding between you. Omega offered a slight nod in response, and he quietly made his exit. As Omega closed the door behind you, you shifted your attention to the front of the room, taking in the surroundings of the dinner venue.

You took a few steps closer to the table, your attention still fixed on Copia, who appeared to be actively avoiding your gaze. Despite his apparent reluctance to meet your eyes, you couldn't help but continue to watch him. As you approached the table, you came closer to Angèle, who was holding Andras in her arms. The young child was fast asleep, resting peacefully, and his serene slumber provided a stark contrast to the tension that seemed to linger in the room.

As you stayed by Angèle's side, your focus still split between her and the somewhat distant Copia, you felt a hand gently rest on your back. The unexpected touch caused you to startle slightly in surprise. Turning around, you discovered that it was Primo who had approached you.

"Buonasera," Primo greeted with a warm smile. "I just wanted to say you look formidable."

"Good evening, Papa," you replied, returning his compliment with grace. "Thank you very much. You also look quite splendid tonight."

Primo's smile broadened in appreciation of your words. The attention in the room shifted toward the door as it opened, and you joined the others in watching. Secondo entered, followed by an unfamiliar woman, piquing your curiosity as they made their way to the table.

"Buonasera," Secondo greeted the gathering, his voice breaking the silence in the room. "Terzo, don't even start..."

Terzo, who had been on the verge of saying something, grumbled and settled back in his chair, an expression of mild annoyance on his face. Angèle, who was standing behind him, couldn't help but chuckle as she looked down at him. She reached out to gently caress the top of Terzo's head, her touch a soothing gesture.

"I wasn't going to say anything bad," Terzo defended himself, his tone slightly defensive. "I was just going to offer some compliments to Secondo for having the company of his caregiver."

Secondo shot his brother a warning look, clearly not in the mood for jests. He was about to reply, but the woman standing beside him stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his shoulder.

"Oh, Terzo," she began with a chuckle. "Just because you've found one for yourself doesn't mean Secondo has to follow suit."

Secondo couldn't help but join in the laughter, wrapping his arm around the woman's waist and lowering his face to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. "Oh, Marga, amore mio..." he murmured, nuzzling her cheek affectionately. "You truly are an extraordinary wife."

Terzo couldn't resist seizing the opportunity to tease his brother and the woman. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he playfully addressed the woman. "Ah, Margareta, la mia cara cognata," he began, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You didn't change a thing, sì?"

Margareta chuckled and shook her head, her response clear. "Never."

Terzo's playful banter continued with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Well, I just hope you've changed one thing, cognata. I trust you two are keeping things... interesting only inside your chambers, sì? We wouldn't want Primo to accidentally walk in on you again."

Margareta took a deep breath and gazed up at Secondo, who stood behind her. "I think we might need to change tonight's location."

Secondo grinned and leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her lips. Terzo, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, decided to join in the conversation.

"That would be quite considerate of you both," Terzo chimed in, reaching for Angèle's waist as he rose from his chair. "We were already pondering the idea of utilizing that space."

Primo, ever the practical one, added his own note to the conversation. "Potete tutti stare lontani dalla mia serra?" He chuckled, taking his seat at the table.

The woman in Secondo's arms shifted her attention to you, her smile warm and welcoming. In response, you returned her smile and watched as she gracefully disentangled herself from Secondo's arm, choosing instead to hold his hand.

"You're probably Andras' nanny, right?" she inquired.

You nodded, confirming her guess. "Yes, I am."

Approaching you, the woman led Secondo along with her, their hands remaining intertwined. Her soft smile persisted as she introduced herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she began, her tone friendly. "I'm Margareta, but you can call me Marga."

"And she is my wife," Secondo added, his gaze now focused on you.

Marga let out a small giggle. "Yes, I'm his wife," she affirmed, tilting her head to look at Secondo. "Secondino, you know you don't have to emphasize it every time I introduce myself, right?"

"Marga, per favore don't call me Secondino in front of everyone..." Secondo muttered, glancing at his brothers. "And I just want everyone to know that you are my wife..."

Terzo couldn't resist chiming in with a playful remark, still holding Angèle in his arms. "We all know it, Secondino. What I don't know is why I can't call her as Marga when everyone else can."

"Because you do it to mock me, so you'll just have to keep calling her by her name," Secondo retorted sharply. "And don't you dare call me Secondino, cretino."

"What about you, Copia?" she called out to him. "So quiet in your Papa's chair."

You glanced over your shoulder to observe Copia, and indeed, Margareta's observation was on point. Copia had been uncharacteristically reserved. After exchanging a brief, subtle glance with you, he gave Margareta a small smile and rose from his seat. As he approached the group, a nervous energy swirled within you.

"Mi dispiace, cognata," he said as he reached your side.

Margareta responded with warmth and reassurance, "You never have to apologize to me, Copia. Congratulations! I'm very happy for you, and I know how hard you've worked for this. I'm really proud of you. You deserve to be the new Papa, and I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to your first party, but I really wanted to."

Copia replied, "Per favore, don't apologize either. What matters now is that you are here with us."

Secondo added his agreement, looking down at Margareta with affection. Margareta stood on her tiptoes and planted a sweet kiss on Secondo's cheek. Secondo, in turn, gently tilted her face to capture her lips with his own. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Copia subtly turning his gaze away.

Copia eventually broke the moment, suggesting, "Shall we start our dinner? Per favore, take your seats."

With Copia's suggestion, he returned to his seat at the head of the table, and everyone else began to move around, finding their designated places. But you remained standing, observing their actions. As you looked around, you spotted an empty chair on the right side of the table, right beside Copia. You walked over to it and took your seat, positioning yourself between Copia on your right and Secondo on your left.

Copia turned his face to address the Ghouls, saying, "Per favore."

With just that single word, the Ghouls obediently walked through another door, disappearing from your view. You couldn't help but feel curious about where they were going, but your attention was soon drawn back to the table. You noticed Secondo pouring some wine into your glass, and you smiled in appreciation.

Primo raised his glass and suggested, "Let's toast to our fratello."

Everyone at the table followed suit, raising their glasses, and you did the same. The glasses clinked together, producing a pleasant sound that echoed through the room. However, what truly caught your attention was the subtle brush of Copia's hand against yours, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"To Copia!" Primo exclaimed.

"To Copia!" the others echoed.

You added your own sentiment, speaking softly, "To Papa."

You all raised your glasses once more, toasting and taking a sip of the wine before placing them back on the table. The Siblings from the Ministry re-entered the dining salon, expertly carrying plates of delectable dishes, and served each person at the table before quietly departing. The food looked and smelled amazing, and you didn't hesitate to dig in. It tasted even better than it looked.

Terzo's voice interrupted the pleasant atmosphere. "So," he began, "I think we should talk about what happened yesterday."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in your seat, wondering what Terzo meant. Did he somehow know about the kiss? Your thoughts raced, and you stole a quick glance at Copia to gauge his reaction. He choked on his food, coughing suddenly, which startled everyone at the table. Wide-eyed, you watched as he reached for his glass of wine, took a few sips to clear his throat, and finally composed himself.

Copia, his voice sharp from the earlier coughing fit, finally managed to speak. "What... What do you want to talk about yesterday?"

"The lunch," Terzo furrowed his brows, slightly puzzled. "What more would it be?"

Copia's voice trembled slightly as he replied, "Nothing, fratello."

Copia took a deep breath and continued to eat his meal, and you followed suit, doing your best to focus on the food in front of you. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel Terzo's gaze on you. However, you avoided his stare and kept your attention on your plate.

You tensed slightly as Terzo continued to address the situation, his words hanging in the air. He offered you a small, reassuring smile before speaking, "I think you did a good job yesterday. E credo che tutti i nostri fratelli siano d'accordo."

Primo raised his glass and took a sip. "Certainly the clergy is happy with you, fratello."

Secondo followed suit. "I think you'll be a great leader for our Ministry."

Terzo leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine. "Your first Black Mass is in some days, how are you feeling about it?"

Copia looked around at his brothers, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "I feel a little bit nervous, but I've watched you three before leading a Black Mass, so I think I can do it. I hope."

Terzo took a sip of his wine, then set the glass down with a reassuring smile. "There's nothing to be nervous about. You were prepared for it, you are being prepared for it, everything will be alright."

"Beside, we will be there, fratello," Secondo said.

"I know," Copia said, his voice filled with gratitude. "And I'm very grateful that you three took the time to help me with this."

"I wouldn't be worried, Copia," Margareta began, leaning in closer to Secondo, "I don't think it will be like it was for Secondino."

"Marga!" Secondo protested, casting a side glance at her. "Amore mio, don't bring that up now."

"Why not?" she giggled, brushing her fingers gently over his arm. "Secondino, it's okay. You didn't know what to do."

Curiosity got the better of you as you interjected, "What happened, Papa Secondo?"

"Well..." Margareta started with a mischievous smile, earning a disapproving look from Secondo.

"Marga!" he said again, but his wife didn't seem to mind as she got even closer to him.

"What?" she chuckled, her playful tone evident. "Tell her what happened."

Secondo sighed and gave in. "It was my first Black Mass as the new Papa. I was a bit nervous, of course. And when it came time for me to remove my clothes for the ritual... Well, I panicked, and let's just say it was a bit chaotic."

"I think it was very pleasant," Marga remarked, raising her wine glass to her lips for a delicate sip.

“It was terrible,” he admitted, his smile growing as he directed his gaze towards Margareta. “I didn’t know where to look or what to do, and it was quite embarrassing. What's worse is that I didn't realize they didn't expect me to strip down entirely just to switch from the Cardinal robes to the Papa ones.”

"And that was the moment I fell in love with him," Margareta said with a smile, causing Secondo press a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Was it, amore mio?" Secondo inquired.

Margareta bit her lower lip and shook her head playfully. "No, but you gave me a view I will never forget."

"I'm sure he provided a memorable view for everyone," Primo quipped, chuckling.

Secondo rolled his eyes playfully and glanced at Primo. "Don't encourage her."

"So," you began, "can I ask how you two fell in love?"

Margareta chuckled, "It's a sweet story, really."

"Sì," Secondo agreed, a soft smile on his face. "It was shortly after that incident, while I was still struggling with my role as the new Papa, that I stumbled upon Margareta while she was doing some gardening."

"Actually, he came into Primo's greenhouse cursing," Margareta recounted with a chuckle, "and I couldn't help but give him a disapproving look. To my surprise, he quieted down almost immediately, but it was clear he was just nervous. After all, the poor man had just stripped naked in front of everyone."

"She was the first one to succeed to shut me up," Secondo said. "So day after day I went back to that greenhouse because I knew she would be there. We started talking, and I found her insights and humor captivating. We spent time getting to know each other, and our connection deepened.”

Margareta leaned her head against Secondo's shoulder, smiling at the memory. "I was intrigued by Secondo's dedication and intelligence. The more we talked, the more I realized I admired him and enjoyed his company."

“I was very serious back then,” Secondo added, smiling at Margareta. “But as Marga got to know me better, she realized there was more to me than just being a stern Papa.”

“That’s right,” Margareta said, her gaze filled with affection as she looked at her husband. “He’s quite the gentleman, really.”

"And soon," Secondo added, "our friendship turned into love."

"It was a beautiful time," Margareta said, her eyes sparkling. "And it still is."

You couldn't help but smile as you observed the playful dynamics between Margareta and Secondo. Your momentary distraction ended when you felt Copia's knees brushing against yours. You turned your head to look at him, but he seemed engrossed in Secondo's conversation. You assumed it was just a casual accident, perhaps.

Primo addressed Copia, turning his face toward him, with a playful but sincere request. "Copia, I just have one thing to say: please don't be like them, don't bring anyone inside my greenhouse."

Copia's eyes widened as he registered the request, and he responded quickly with a nod. "O-Of course, fratello! Why would I? I don't even have someone to bring there with me."

"Bene, molto bene," Primo acknowledged with a smile, pleased with Copia's response.

The dinner continued as everyone focused on their meals and engaged in light-hearted conversations. However, a sudden cry interrupted the pleasant atmosphere as Andras began to wail. You instinctively rose from your seat, but Angèle also stood up and cradled Andras in her arms.

"Don't worry, dear," Angèle reassured you. "Continue your dinner; it's alright."

"Alright, miss," you replied, sitting back down.

Angèle gently rocked the little one in her arms in an attempt to soothe his cries. "I believe it's time to put him to bed; he seems a little uncomfortable here."

"Cara mia, are you sure?" Terzo questioned. "We haven't had dessert yet."

Angèle responded with a playful wink. "Perhaps you can bring me dessert later?"

Terzo's face lit up with a wicked grin as he nodded in agreement. Angèle leaned down and planted a tender kiss on his lips before heading towards the front door with Andras in her arms.

The dinner continued, and as Angèle left the room with Andras, you returned your attention to the remaining ones at the table. Most were almost finished with their meals. You noticed Copia, still quiet and avoiding you. Sighing softly, you redirected your gaze to your empty plate.

Suddenly, you felt a slight, discreet movement as Copia's index finger gently brushed against your hand. You glanced down at the subtle touch and then turned your eyes to meet his. A soft smile played on your lips as you responded by moving your finger to touch his. Copia, still not looking at you directly, couldn't hide a small, shy smile forming at the corner of his lips.

Your thoughts swirled as you tried to make sense of the situation. After everything that had transpired today, after Copia's previous avoidance, you were now witnessing him taking tentative steps to approach you again.

You contemplated whether this was the right moment to broach the subject of what had happened earlier. Should you ask him quietly, in a hushed murmur, to ensure no one else could overhear? However, you hesitated, not wanting to disrupt this precious moment, especially when he seemed to be taking a small step forward. Turning your gaze back to him, you noticed his lips parting, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was the opening you had been waiting for.

However, the gentle spell between you was broken when a delectable dessert was placed in front of you, and Copia discreetly withdrew his finger from yours, causing you to refocus your attention on the Papas at the table. However, a puzzled expression crossed your face when you noticed that Terzo was no longer seated with them. You had been so engrossed in Copia's touch that his absence had escaped your notice.

"Excuse me," you politely inquired, "Where is Papa Terzo?"

"Probabilmente scopando," Secondo remarked playfully.

"Stai zitto, Secondo," Primo chimed in, his tone stern. "He left a few minutes ago."

"He left? To where?" you asked.

"I assume he returned to the Papal Apartment," Margareta replied.

"Ah!" you exclaimed as you rose from your seat. "Excuse me, Papas, Marga. I need to leave now."

As you spoke, you glanced around, giving everyone a warm smile. Your eyes met Copia's, and there was a trace of longing in his gaze. His lips were still parted, as if he wanted to say something, but he turned his attention back to the dessert in front of him. You pushed your chair back into place and headed toward the front door. After opening it, you exited the dining salon, making your way to the Papal Apartment to find out where Terzo had gone.

As you hurriedly left the dining salon, your steps echoed through the quiet hallways of the Ministry. With each step, you couldn't help but think about Copia and his tentative attempts to reach out to you during dinner. His touch had left you in a state of longing and confusion, and you couldn't help but wonder what it meant. What was going on in his mind, and what had prompted him to act so mysteriously?

With a soft sigh, you approached the door, your fingers grasping the handle, and you pushed it open. As you entered the apartment no sound could be heard. You walked to the living room and you spotted Terzo seated on one of the couches, a glass of wine in his hand, and a contemplative expression on his face. He turned his head as you entered, his eyes meeting yours, and he offered a small, knowing smile.

"Benvenuta," he said, setting his glass aside as he noticed your return.

You returned his smile, stepping further into the room. "Papa, is everything alright?"

Terzo chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Sì, sì. I just came back because I brought Angèle's dessert."

"Ah!" you nodded in understanding.

Terzo's curious gaze shifted to you. "And you? Why did you leave?"

"As you left the dinner, I thought something might be happening," you explained, moving closer to him, "and it's my duty to assist your family, Papa."

"I see," he said with a warm smile, rising from the couch. "You didn't need to worry, piccola. But grazie."

"You're welcome, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower and head to bed. Angèle is with Andras in his quarters."

You nodded, and watched as he headed towards his bedroom. After he left, you decided to check on Angèle and Andras in the baby's bedroom to see if she needed any assistance before you retired to your own quarters for the night.

You gently opened the door to Andras's room and peeked inside. "Excuse me, miss," you inquired. "Do you need anything?"

Angèle turned towards you with a warm smile. "Hello, dear. No, please don't worry. You can go and get some rest now. Andras is already fast asleep, and I will be heading to bed shortly as well."

"Thank you," you replied, returning her smile. "Goodnight to both of you."

Closing the door to Andras' room quietly, you retreated to your own bedroom, intent on seeking solace from the day's events. After selecting your nightclothes, you indulged in a blissful, hot shower. The cascading warmth of the water enveloped you, a welcome escape from the day's trials. Standing beneath the soothing stream, a hint of sadness swept over you. The missed opportunity of spending more time at the dinner, particularly with Copia, left an ache in your heart.

After finishing your shower, you turned off the water and dried yourself meticulously. You slipped into your comfortable nightclothes and left the bathroom, returning to your bedroom, preparing to go to sleep, you began removing your sheets.

Just as you were about to ascend into the comfort of your bed, an unexpected series of knocks echoed from the front door. Frustration welled up within you, wondering who could possibly be calling at such an hour. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, finding it hard to believe someone would show up now.

With reluctance, you approached your bedroom door, determined to discover the source of the commotion. However, as you neared the front door, Terzo emerged from his room, enveloped in a sumptuous silk robe. He was hastily tying its belt while muttering something in Italian. Shortly after, Angèle appeared, her hair slightly tousled.

You discreetly averted your gaze and took a step backward into your room, positioning yourself near the door. Just as you did so, the front door swung open, and Terzo's voice reverberated throughout the house.

"Questo non è il momento per questo," he declared, his tone dripping with anger.

"Ho interrotto qualcosa?" the person inquired.

Suddenly, a wave of recognition washed over you as you identified the voice. It was Copia. Your eyes widened, and an elated grin tugged at your lips. Slowly, you inched your face closer to the door, attempting to catch a glimpse of him at the front entrance.

Terzo's anger flared. "Cosa pensi, idiota?" he snapped.

"Mi dispiace, fratello. Non volevo interrompere il tuo..." Copia began.

"Say what you want," Terzo retorted.

Copia nervously cleared his throat. "I just... Can I have a word with your nanny?"

"My..." Terzo's lips curled into a wicked grin. "My nanny, Copia? You? Really?"

"No, it's not what you're thinking," Copia hastily explained, his voice betraying his unease.

Copia's voice echoed through the house, and an intense blush warmed your cheeks. You quickly stepped back from the door, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Why was Copia here, at this late hour, and what did he want? The questions swirled in your mind, and your entire body tensed with a mix of curiosity and nervous anticipation.

"Piccola!" Terzo's voice echoed through the apartment.

When you heard Terzo calling for you, your entire body tensed with anticipation. There was no avoiding it—you had to leave your room. Pretending to be asleep was out of the question; it would be rather foolish. Gathering your courage, you took a deep breath and ventured out of your room, aware of Angèle's inquisitive gaze tracking your every move.

Each step towards the front door felt like an extra weight on your legs, a heavy burden of anticipation. When Copia's eyes turned towards you, it was as if the world had momentarily ceased to exist, and you almost believed you'd stopped breathing. As you reached the front door, you halted a step behind Terzo. He graciously moved aside, granting you space, and gestured for you to step forward. With his silent encouragement, you took that step and found yourself standing face to face with Copia.

"Good evening, Papa," you greeted, a shy smile gracing your lips.

"Buonasera," he responded, extending a hand toward you. "Would you mind going for a walk with me?"

You couldn't help but break into a bashful smile as you met his gaze, and you accepted his offered hand. It was the first time you felt the warmth of his bare hand against yours; for the past two days, he had always been adorned in his formal attire, and those gloves had been an integral part of his ensemble. Copia took a step back, gracefully guiding you with him, and then placed your hand on his arm.

"I promise I won't take up too much of your time," he assured you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Non preoccuparti, fratello," Terzo glanced back over his shoulder at Angèle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prendetevi tutto il tempo che vi serve voi due."

As the door clicked shut, enveloping you and Copia in a private cocoon, a playful chuckle lingered in the air. An unspoken connection passed between you, evident in the exchanged glances you shared. In that intimate moment, Copia's hand found its place, resting gently atop yours, and you turned your gaze to meet his. His smile, affectionate and welcoming, adorned his lips, and the twinkle in his eyes was impossible to overlook as he gazed down at you.

"Shall we go?" Copia inquired.

"Please," you replied with a smile.

Copia set off, and you seamlessly fell into stride beside him, your arms naturally intertwining. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and Copia accepted the contact with a subtle, amused hum that escaped his lips. Inhaling deeply, you cherished the peacefulness of the quiet walk. It felt as though you could close your eyes and just be in that moment, secure in the knowledge that he was there to guide you wherever this path might lead.

"Where are you taking me, Papa?" you inquired, a note of curiosity in your voice.

Copia flashed you a mischievous grin. "Oh, it's a surprise."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement. "A surprise?"

Copia nodded, and with a tender gesture, he disentangled your hand from his arm and instead held it, his fingers gently interlocking with yours. The sensation sent your heart racing, and your gaze fixated on his hand resting in yours. The simplicity of feeling his bare skin against yours stirred an electric warmth deep within you.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the ministry's corridors, your gaze alternated between the enchanting surroundings and Copia by your side. The beauty of the ministry appeared even more mesmerizing in the subdued light of the night, creating an intimate atmosphere that enveloped you both. It felt as if Copia's mere presence had the ability to enhance the surroundings, making them more inviting.

Copia came to a stop and positioned himself directly in front of you. You observed him with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as he took a step closer, gently taking both of your hands and guiding them toward your face with meticulous care. Your hands came to rest on your face, covering your eyes, effectively rendering you blind. You felt Copia move behind you, and a surprised squeak escaped your lips as you sensed his hands on your waist.

His warm breath caressed your ear as he whispered, "Don't remove your hands. Let me guide you, sì?"

With an eager nod, you agreed, "Yes, Papa..."

"Do you trust me?" he continues.

Your heart raced, but without hesitation, you replied, "Yes."

"Molto bene," he whispered before pulling away.

Copia began to guide you, and you both moved slowly. His firm grip on your waist kept you steady, ensuring you wouldn't falter or lose your way. Every touch sent shivers through you, and your hands trembled slightly. You could feel the temptation to peek, to try and catch a glimpse of your surroundings, but you made the conscious choice to close your eyes and place your trust entirely in him.

Copia continued guiding you until he brought you to a stop. You felt his hands leave your waist, and a slight chill in the air made you shiver with anticipation. His presence only added to the excitement as you sensed him moving to stand in front of you once more. His hands gently took yours, lifting them away from your face, and you slowly opened your eyes.

As your eyes met his, Copia beamed with a smile. He stepped aside, and your eyes widened with joy as you saw it, the garden. Your eyes lit up, and a broad grin stretched across your face as you took in the sight. Unable to contain your excitement, you turned toward Copia, who extended his hand to yours.

Without a moment's hesitation, you flung yourself into his embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Your hands reached up to encircle his neck as you buried your face against his chest. Copia stood there, his face deeply flushed, seemingly transfixed by the moment.

Slowly, his hands moved to your back, tenderly caressing you as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, almost protectively. You took a deep breath, savoring the closeness and warmth of his embrace. And for a while, you both simply basked in the comfort of each other's arms.

"Cuoricina," Copia eventually spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes fluttered open, locking onto his intense gaze. His face hovered mere inches from yours, his warm breath gently brushing against your skin. He held your gaze for a lingering moment, and you could sense his focus gradually shifting towards your lips. You took a deep breath, relishing the intimacy of the moment, and your eyes drifted shut in anticipation of a kiss. Your heart raced, and you held your breath, consumed by the mounting desire as Copia's breath drew nearer to yours.

Yet, just when you thought the moment was about to culminate, Copia pulled away, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. "I was a completely terrible friend yesterday," Copia's voice was laden with guilt and self-recrimination as he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, puzzled by his confession. "What? What are you talking about?"

"The... the kiss," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes filled with regret as he finally met your gaze.

"Oh," you responded with understanding, offering a forgiving smile. "It's okay, Papa. You were under influence of the wine, and it was a spur-of-the-moment choice, right?"

Copia sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's more complicated than that. The wine is not an excuse for me to do it. I shouldn't have kissed you, especially since you mentioned we're friends. It was a mistake, and you deserve better."

"What do you mean?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued.

Copia met your gaze, his eyes filled with remorse and doubt. "I didn't even ask if you wanted it. I just... I'm deeply sorry. It was an ill-considered action."

You watched him closely, your heart aching for the torment he was feeling. "Papa, everything is okay."

Copia sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his emotions. He ran a hand through his face. "How can everything be okay? I wasn't... I wasn't a nice man for you."

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "Papa..."

"I shouldn't have kissed you," Copia confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "Not when I wasn't myself, not in the wrong state. I just want you to forgive me. I won't do it again, won't kiss you unless you–"

"Papa!" Your urgent call silenced him instantly. "It's okay, I forgive you," you said, your voice a whisper.

Copia's eyes met yours, gratitude and relief shining in them. "You... forgive me?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Yes, Papa."

Though you wanted to express that forgiveness wasn't necessary, given your mutual desire, the weight of his regret held you back from revealing your true feelings. It was an impulsive act, fueled by the effects of alcohol, and the sincerity in his remorse made you take a step back from what you really wanted to tell him.

Copia sighed. "So it was not strange that I kissed you?"

"Copia, it was just an impulsive kiss," you reassured, a playful giggle escaping your lips. "You didn't want to kiss me, right?"

"Sì... just an impulsive kiss," he echoed, a subtle lie masking the underlying truth. "Would you like to come with me to somewhere else?"

With a nod of agreement, Copia gently took your hand in his, fingers intertwining. A silent connection passed between your eyes as he guided you through the garden. Together, you strolled until reaching a quiet corner, hidden from the prying eyes of the ministry. Before a greenhouse, Copia gracefully knelt, revealing a concealed key among potted plants. Retrieving it, he deftly unlocked the door, gesturing for you to enter. Stepping inside, you heard the door click shut behind you. As you turned to face Copia, a playful smile crossed your lips,

"I recall you saying you wouldn't be invading Primo's greenhouse," you remarked with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Copia's playful expression remained unchanged. "I made no promises."

"Very wise, Papa," you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

Copia's question hung in the air, "Are you implying I'm old again, cuoricina?"

Your soft chuckle rippled through the air. "I wouldn't dare call you old, Papa."

A satisfied smile played on his lips as he gracefully moved to another part of the greenhouse, taking measured steps toward an aged wooden table. With purpose, he opened its drawers, the creaking sound breaking the quiet atmosphere.

"What's on your mind, Papa?" you asked, curiosity in your tone.

Copia's attention fixated on the drawer's contents as he explained, "I'm searching for something Primo used to keep around here."

Copia's hands deftly sifted through the contents of the drawers, his fingers tracing the edges of various items until he found what he sought. With a triumphant smile, he retrieved a bundle of soft, warm sheets, subtly scented with a hint of winter herbs.

"Ah, eccolo qui!" he declared, holding the sheets in his hands.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's so special about those sheets, Papa?"

"These belongs to Primo," Copia explained, his eyes reflecting nostalgia and warmth. "He used them during the winter nights when he stayed late, tending to the plants."

He walked back to you, sheets in hand, and made his way to the center of the greenhouse. With a flourish, he spread the sheets on the floor. Copia took a seat and extended a hand towards you. You gracefully approached, and as you sat beside him, he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. Laying down on the sheets, he left one hand behind his head.

"Come," he invited, extending his arm across the sheets for you.

Smiling warmly, you accepted his invitation. Taking your place next to him, you rested your head on his arm. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, immersing yourself in the tranquility of the night. The only sounds that filled the air were the rhythmic pattern of your breaths and the comforting silence of the night. His arm beneath your head shifted, and his fingers delicately traced your temple. The gentle caress of his knuckles brought a smile to your lips.

"I used to spend nights at the ministry," Copia's voice carried a calm and reflective tone as he began to speak. "And whenever I couldn't sleep, I would come here to spend the night with Primo. He was always here until late. I think it was his escape from the overwhelming routine."

"That sounds lovely," you replied, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

"Sì, it was." Copia's voice softened. "We used to spend the night talking, sometimes until the first one yawns or until the sun invades the glass walls of this greenhouse."

A playful smile played on your lips. "And who was the first one to yawn?" you asked, a light giggle escaping.

Copia chuckled, a gentle breath of amusement. "Me," he confessed.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, turning your head to meet his gaze. Mere inches apart, the desire to close the gap surged within you. The thought lingered—to ask for a kiss, to bridge the distance with a proper one, not just a swift touch of lips. The tension between you and Copia was palpable, an unspoken connection that fueled the desire to close the gap. His eyes held warmth and longing as they locked onto yours. You felt the urge to express your desire, to convey the unspoken yearning that lingered in the quiet space between you. Copia's fingers continued their gentle dance on your temple, creating a soothing rhythm that echoed the beating of your heart.

"Papa," you murmured softly.

He turned towards you, a gentle smile on his face. "Sì, cuoricina?" he responded, his hand tenderly caressing your temple.

Nuzzling closer, you hesitated for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you something?"

His fingers paused for a moment, and he looked at you with warm curiosity. "Sì, what do you want to know?"

Taking a deep breath, you asked, "Did you intend to kiss me?"

His touch lingered, and his expression softened. "I..." he began, his eyes searching for the right words.

"It's okay if you didn't," you reassured.

"I did," he replied with urgency, his fingers now gently tracing patterns on the sheets. "It's just complicated."

"How?" your brow furrowed as you waited for an explanation.

"I overheard... I overheard your conversation with Dewdrop," he admitted, his gaze briefly averted. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet yours, and you could sense the vulnerability in his expression. "I heard you say that a Papa like me wouldn't want to kiss you." He took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting with a loose strand of your hair. "But the truth is, I did want to, just not under those circumstances. I wanted it to be a conscious decision, a moment where it was just you and me, free from any misunderstandings."

"Papa..." you whispered.

His title hung in the air, a subtle plea for something more. The silence between your words crackled with anticipation, leaving the plead unspoken yet echoing loudly. Would he close the gap, or would you dare to take the plunge yourself? Copia's gaze lingered, the air thick with unspoken tension. However, just as you braced yourself for the anticipated connection, he subtly shifted, turning his face away. The moment of potential intimacy dissipated like a fleeting breeze.

You sighed with a tinge of disappointment, turning your face away as Copia's hand withdrew from your temple. Your gaze drifted to the glass ceiling above. If he wanted to kiss you that night, why would he avoid you now?

Delicately, you lifted your head from his arm, settling onto the sheets and taking a moment to adjust your hair. Copia, reclining beside you, fixed his gaze on your form. As you sat up, he mirrored your movement, positioning himself right beside you. His hand found its place on your back, the gentle caress sending a shiver through you. When you turned your face to him, your lips parted, but before you could say anything, Copia quickly spoke.

"Is there something wrong, cuoricina?" he inquired, concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing. I think I should go back," you reassured him, your voice soft,

"Already?" he shook his head, a hint of disappointment crossing his features. "I mean, that's totally fine; it's late after all. I just thought you'd like to stay a little bit more. You said you wanted to come to the garden, and I thought..."

Smiling, you looked at him and leaned in, pressing a kiss on his cheek. It was a small, harmless kiss, yet filled with a depth of sentiment. "I loved that you brought me here," you said, your words carrying a warmth that seemed to linger in the air.

"Grazie," he replied in a whisper.

A smile graced your lips as you began to rise from the sheets on the floor. However, Copia's hand gently cupped your cheek, turning your face towards him, causing a slight gasp to escape you. Your eyes locked, the unspoken tension lingering between you. His fingers traced a delicate path from your cheek to your nape, leaving a trail of gentle tingles in their wake.

His lips parted, leaning in closer to yours. Just as anticipation heightened, he lifted his neck, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You could feel the light pressure of his fingers, a tender grip that lingered for a moment before he pulled away, leaving you with a fluttering heartbeat.

You observed as Copia rose from the sheets, extending his hand toward you. Taking it, you rose to your feet together. Copia bent down to gather the sheets from the floor, playfully waving them into the air in an attempt to straighten them before neatly folding them. As you approached the door, Copia returned the sheets to their place on the table, and you walked back to the door, with him following suit.

"Wait," Copia interrupted, turning back toward the inside of the greenhouse. Curiosity sparked, you furrowed your brows and took a small step to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of his actions. Before you could peer inside, Copia returned to you.

"Here," he said, extending a rose. "I want you to have it."

"Copia!" you chuckled nervously, cheeks flushed. "Put that back, Papa Primo will be furious if he discovers it!"

"He won't even notice I took it; there are plenty inside," he insisted. "Per favore, just accept it."

"Fine..." you smiled, bringing the rose close to your nose to savor its fragrance.

Copia watched you with a satisfied smile before closing the door behind him and discreetly returning the hidden key to its place among the potted plants.

"Shall we go back now?" Copia inquired.

"Yes," you replied.

Copia extended his arm, and you took it, walking with him back to the garden, leaving the concealed greenhouse behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you stole a final glance at the hidden sanctuary before focusing on the path ahead. The return to the ministry walls was marked by a quietness, both of you choosing to remain silent, perhaps out of consideration for the sleeping residents. The stillness enveloped you as you strolled, the night shrouded in tranquility.

As the doors of the Papal Apartment loomed in the distance, a subtle tension gripped your stomach. You hesitated, a reluctance to enter signaling the end of the night. It hinted at the unknown of the following day, and you couldn't shake the worry of facing another morning with his coldness. Yet, everything seemed fine between you two now, and there was no reason to be anxious about tomorrow. Before you realized it, you and Copia were standing at the front door, side by side, facing the inevitable entry into the apartment.

You removed your arm from his and turned to him, holding the rose he just gave you close to your chest. "Thank you for the evening," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Copia's playful glint remained as he gently placed his hand on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. "You don't need to thank me," he said, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Don't I?" you teased, a playful glimmer in your eyes.

"No," he giggled, his touch lingering for a moment longer.

You nodded and turned toward the door, reaching for the doorknob to open the entrance to the Papal apartment. Copia, however, wasn't quite ready to let you go. He reached for your hand, a subtle yet firm grip, causing you to turn your face toward him.

"Instead," he began, his voice taking a slightly more serious tone, "Would you like to go out with me tomorrow? I'll have a free day and need to attend to some things outside the Ministry. Perhaps, you'd like to come with me."

The suggestion caught you off guard, and excitement bubbled within you. "Oh!" you exclaimed, trying to play it cool but failing to hide your genuine enthusiasm. "I... I do, that would be awesome. But I need to check with Papa Terzo first."

"Tell him those are important matters and that I asked you to keep me company," he suggested, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"I don't think he'd fall for that, but I can try," you replied.

"I'll come to get you here in the morning," he said, a smile playing on his lips.

"Okay!" you replied, giving up on hiding your excitement, your smile widening. "Well, I should go inside then and rest."

"Sì, sì," he nodded, taking a step back. "And I hope you have a lovely night."

"You too, Papa," you said, opening the door and stepping inside. However, your excitement broke through as you turned to him, wrapping one of your arms around his neck in a spontaneous hug.

Copia froze for a moment, his hands hesitating before gently touching you. Before he could fully reciprocate, you pulled away, leaving him with a sweet smile.

"Goodnight, Papa," you said, taking another step into the papal apartment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sì, tomorrow," he replied in a soft tone, nodding. "Buonanotte, cuoricina." The words lingered in the air as you closed the door.

You took a deep breath, a mix of anticipation and happiness settling within you. You couldn't wait for the day out with Copia tomorrow. Something was different now. There was a unique feeling about him—a shift in the air. Before, you simply shared moments with him, but now, perhaps it was the way he spoke, held you, or apologized. Maybe, just maybe, feelings were emerging.

Grammar

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Sì, è interessante: Yes, it's interesting

Naturalmente: Naturally

Vai a goderti la colazione: Go and enjoy breakfast

Buongiorno: Good morning

La mia cara cognata: My dear sister-in-law

Sì: yes

Potete tutti stare lontani dalla mia serra?: Can you all stay away from my greenhouse?

Secondino: Little Secondo (a name or nickname)

Per favore: Please

Cretino: Idiot

Mi dispiace, cognata: I'm sorry, sister-in-law

Fratello: Brother

E credo che tutti i nostri fratelli siano d'accordo: And I believe all our brothers would agree

Amore mio: My love

Cara mia: My dear

Probabilmente scopando: Probably fucking

Stai zitto: Be quiet

Benvenuta: Welcome

Questo non è il momento per questo: This is not the time for this

Ho interrotto qualcosa?: Did I interrupt something?

Cosa pensi, idiota?: What do you think, idiot?

Mi dispiace, fratello. Non volevo interrompere il tuo...: I'm sorry, brother. I didn't mean to interrupt your...

Piccola: Little one

Non preoccuparti, fratello: Don't worry, brother

Prendetevi tutto il tempo che vi serve voi due.: Take all the time you two need.

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Eccolo qui: Here it is

Grazie: Thank you

Buonanotte: Goodnight

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ghelullu · 5 months ago

Text

RKH images, Maplewood, 29.07.2016

You can almost hear the disgruntled noise because they only gave them one mic for all three of them - but he handled it with grace

#the band ghost #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus 3 #ghouls #nameless ghouls #im gonna post some more pics with sources over the next few weeks because im getting so annoyed at all these posts #with 3289429 notes and unsourced pics :))) please credit photographers or im gonna cut your fingers off #anyway #make the terzo tag terzo again #not sure if the other ghoul is alpha or water #not 100% sure who the ghouls are - id say delta and alpha considering the date #alpha #delta #photos #my stuff

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6emo6zombie6 · 7 months ago

Text

A matter best discussed with Papa

Papa III x Reader

Tags: fingering, daddy kink... but I suppose it's more of a Papa kink?? Getting freaky with Papa in his office!!!

You’d stayed behind in the pews, sitting on your own after the weekly sermon. You wanted to talk to Papa but he was talking to some other sisters. You couldn’t be bothered enough to listen closely to what they were saying, not with the questions you had. Today’s sermon had been—not unusually—about sex, but specifically the orgasm and its importance in rituals. Papa Terzo was undeniably very interested in the topic, and he spoke openly about it, including his own sexual experiences.

Now, of course, there were some giggles and some whispers when Papa expressed his fondness of orgasms, the supposed ecstasy that they brought. It was then that you realized you hadn’t experienced anything similar to what he had been speaking about. Then again, your sexual encounters had been very minimal—but you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe you’d been masturbating incorrectly as well. You figured it was a topic best to discuss with the man who seemed to know all about it.

“oh—Papa,” You said as you hastily got up from the pews, noticing the others had left. Papa’s turn was a tad dramatic as he heard your voice, his robes swishing around him as you made your way to the other end of the chapel.

“Si, cara, what is it?” He said in his usual smooth voice, looking down at you with a fond smile. You’d always suspected he favored you over the others—for reasons unknown.

“Uhm...” You briefly glanced at your feet, then down the hall to make sure it was empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Papa let out a soft, breathy chuckle as your cheeks started to burn up.

“Would it make you more comfortable to discuss this in my office, cara?”

“Yes, that’d be... that’d be nice.” You nodded quickly, smiling softly as Papa lovingly flicked his index finger under your chin. You followed him to his office as he had suggested. Your heeled shoes clacked against the marble floors of the ministry as the two of you walked.

“Is it about the sermon?” Papa asked as he cast you another glance. He chuckled once more when he saw you gulp, looking away from him.

The two of you walked in silence for a minute before reaching Papa’s office, he opened one of the large, ornate wooden doors and motioned for you to enter. You hesitantly did so, Papa shutting the door behind you.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, tesoro, truly,” He exhorted, sitting down in the expensive chair behind his large desk. His fingers tapped on the wood as you took your seat across from him.

“Now tell me—tell Papa what’s been bothering you.”

You twiddled your thumbs, letting out an unsure “Ummm...” as Papa stared at you, waiting for you to tell him what was going on. He could tell you were somewhat uncomfortable, sighing softly as he leaned back in his chair.

“Well...” you began, piquing Papa’s interest. “You were talking about orgasms and such and I uh... I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”

Papa lifted an eyebrow, a small grin starting to form on his painted cheeks. “I see...” He murmured.

After a few seconds of silence, he patted his lap, waving you over to him. “Come sit,”

You sheepishly walked over, feeling his hands wrap around you and hold you steady as you sat in his lap. He smiled at your obedience, and how shy you looked. You weren’t the most outspoken of the sisters, but he’d never seen you this shy.

“Now tell me, Cara,” One of his hands rested on the side of your thigh, his gloved hand swishing his thumb just below the hem of your habit. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?”

Of course, Papa wanted you to agree to the latter, nothing was more relaxing than having a cute girl writhe in pleasure because of his ministrations. It was definitely one of his favorite pastime activities.

“Show me,” You muttered, biting your lip anxiously as Papa squished your thigh with a grin.

“Good girl,” He spoke in a deep tone, carefully pulling your leg open. “Let Papa show you how to relax.”

You looked at him, seeing his face light up at the thought of being able to pleasure you. He carefully hiked up your already short habit, looking up at you to make sure you were comfortable. A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand, gently stroking up and down your clothed heat.

“Hm... see what I’m doing? Gotta get you nice and bothered before we do anything else, huh?” He absently bit his lip, his leather glove cold against you.

His gentle movements made for a bunch of comfortable, soft tingles around your lower region, warmth stirring up in your body at the pleasure.

You let out a soft, content sigh as you started to ease into Papa’s touches, he let out a proud chuckle at your submission.

He drew a quick, lazy circle over your clit before stopping the motions, dragging his large hand up your torso and cupping one of your breasts carefully. You let out a soft gasp as his thumb flicked over your nipple, making him chuckle again.

Then, he went silent for a second, his gaze reverting to an old, floor-length mirror across the office. A smirk spread across his cheeks as he let go of you and patted your leg.

“Do Papa a favor and sit there,” He grumbled smoothly as he pointed at the floor in front of the mirror.

You nodded and silently got off his lap, sitting down where he’d pointed at. You followed his movements through the mirror, watching as he took off his gloves before following after you and sitting behind you with his legs on either side of you.

“Papa’s going to show you how to relax, hm... Si?”

The way you panted and blushed as your eyes roamed away filled him with need. The thought of him corrupting such a gentle soul made him let out a shaky sigh.

“Take your uh...” Papa pondered for a second, not knowing the English word. “Your—your mutandine, take them off.”

“Si,” You responded coyly, knowing what he meant. You quickly slid your panties off, laying them beside you.

“Now, open your legs for me.” He kept grinning to himself when you did so, your pussy already slick from his limited touches. “Mio piccola ragazza, you are adorable.” You hooked your legs over his, giving him more room to stroke and rub. He did so happily, his index and ring finger leisurely drawing circles on your puffy clit. His head rested on your shoulder to properly inspect your reactions in the mirror.

The sight was one for sore eyes; your eyes lidded and fixated on his hand in the reflection, your cheeks red and your breathing slightly heavier than usual. You were so responsive, so much more perverted than Papa had ever could have guessed. He loved it.

“Dio, you’re wet,” He bit his lip softly, speeding his fingers up and rubbing your clit a little longer before stopping and inspecting your wetness coating and webbing between his fingers. He let out a soft grunt as he pushed those same two fingers into your juicy cunt, earning a small whine from you.

“Feels good, hm?”

“Yeah,” You replied breathily, little sounds starting to fall from your lips as the older man started to repeatedly pump his fingers in and out. The movement made a wet squelching noise that in turn made Papa smirk. His free hand wrapped around you and squeezed your tits needily, making it harder for you to focus on what he was doing.

After a little while he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to hold your face as he lifted his hand to your mouth. “Suck them clean for Papa,” He grinned, watching you do as he asked, your tongue eagerly sucking his fingers clean from your slick. He chuckled after pulling them back out and letting go of your face.

“Now, watch what I do.” You watched his hand as he curled his fingers upward. “See? It’s going to feel good like that, I promise.”

His fingers were back in you before you could fully process what he meant. You let out a surprised gasp and watched him do the same thing he did before, only now he was curling his fingers up against a specifically sensitive spot inside you. Your mouth hung open at the intense, yet pleasurable feeling.

He switched between pumping his fingers in and out and curling them periodically, slowly speeding up little by little to push you over the edge. You felt a few soft kisses against your neck as you finally let your head loll back, moans and whines exiting your throat deliciously. It was no secret that the sight alone drove Papa wild, you could feel his rock-hard cock pressing into your lower back.

But this was about you, so you tried not to focus on it too much.

Your moans became a bit louder as Papa hammered his fingers against that delicious spot over and over, your legs started to tremble as you felt yourself grow closer to an orgasm—a feeling that was new to you. You couldn’t keep quiet, it felt too good. You felt a tight, warm knot twisting your insides and begging to unravel. Papa spoke up once he noticed your breathing starting to quicken.

“You’re close,” He grinned, glancing at your trembling thighs. “Rub your clit for me, cara, it’ll make it feel even better.”

Your hand trembled as you slid it down, your entire cunt coated in your juices, as well as the inner parts of your thighs. You’d never felt this great—euphoric, and you hadn’t even come yet. Papa’s hands were like magic.

You carefully rubbed your clit, your legs starting to involuntarily twitch when you started. It felt so intense and you had no clue why you hadn’t ever come to this point on your own.

“O-oh, Satan, I think I’m going to cum,” You managed to mumble between your many pleasured noises.

Papa’s eyes raked over your body, taking in the jumble of hands between your legs, your hard nipples poking through your habit, the slight sheen of sweat on your neck... fuck. He groaned at the sight. You were more beautiful than any painting he had ever seen, your body writhing in pleasure like it was designed to do so.

“Cum for me.” He said in a low, hoarse voice. It sounded more like a command than any of his other sweet comments.

Those three words were all it took. The knot unraveled and you struggled to keep the rhythm on your clit, a wave of tingles shooting up to your head and down to the tips of your toes. Your body trembled as Papa kept up his flawless pace, moaning softly as your back arched and your cunt spasmed around his fingers. You had never felt this great, nor had you felt this perverted. Nobody had managed to get you near an orgasm before, but in your defense you were ill-informed.

Your moans echoed through the office, they were probably loud enough for anyone outside to hear, but you didn’t care. It all felt too good. Your body was overcome with ecstasy, making you wish the pleasure would never end.

Alas, your orgasm gradually died down. Papa pulled his fingers out and licked them clean himself this time, letting out the softest moan at your taste. He would have loved to dive between your legs and use his tongue to make you cum again, but you looked exhausted from it all. His hands slid down to your thighs, his thumbs soothingly rubbing back and forth over the skin.

“hm...” He hummed, kissing your temple. “Poor thing... you must be exhausted.”

#fluff #smut #x reader #female reader #fem reader #ghost x reader #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #sister of sin #papa emeritus lll #ghost terzo #papa emeritus 3 #papa III smut #satanism #satanic #Papa III x reader #ghost fanfiction

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thehypnone · 10 months ago

Text

It Will Wither

WC: 2k

Relationship: Dewdrop/Aether/Mountain

Tags: Elemental Transition, Coma, Resuscitation, The Surge, Major Character Death, Grief, Hurt no Comfort

Dewdrop's transition goes horribly wrong.

Notes: For the love of all that's unholy read the damn tags.

Read under the cut or on AO3.

They all knew it was a bad idea. A horrible one.

They didn’t know how horrible, though.

Only Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether were left of their pack. Zephyr got sent back to the Pit on their own request, Ifrit had followed his mate like he always had, Terzo had been ki… died.

Only Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether were left.

Their bond was fragile, compromised and put to test by all the events of the previous month. They had barely survived and just when they thought it would all get a bit better, the offer to Dewdrop was made. The offer which wasn’t one, really. What it was was an order and a threat at once, veiled in a pretty cursive font reading ‘proposition’.

Dewdrop, Mountain and Aether had screamed at each other and cried to each other for a week straight, trying to find a solution that wasn’t there, and so there they were. In a damp dungeon under the Abbey, waiting for Dewdrop to be ripped apart and put back together as someone—something—else.

“Dew, please, don’t leave us,” Mountain sobbed on his knees, face pressed into the water ghoul’s thighs where his bare legs were hanging off of the cold stone altar.

“I– I’ll try, Mounty,” he sniffled. “I’ll fight.”

“Promise me,” the earth ghoul demanded, looking up. “Promise me you’ll live.”

“Mountain–” Aether said quietly from behind him. He knew Dewdrop couldn’t make that promise.

“No! No, no, no, he’ll be okay. Right, water lily? You will be, we can’t lose you too, I can’t…” he cried, his whole body shaking. Dewdrop took a shaky breath and looked up at Aether pleadingly. The quintessence ghoul shook his head.

Dewdrop put his hands on Mountain’s head and pulled him up to look into his fresh grass colored eyes. “I promise.”

Mountain sobbed loudly again, holding onto his thighs with an iron grip, and the water ghoul looked back at Aether with a plea in his tear-filled eyes. Take him away.

He obliged, pulling Mountain up from the floor and into his arms, sending a shot of quintessence his way to calm him down. If that was even possible. Aether reached his free arm out to Dewdrop and the water ghoul took his hand, squeezing tightly. This could very well be their last goodbye and all three of them knew it.

With a single tear slipping down his cheek, Aether pulled Mountain out of the chamber and kicked the heavy door behind them.

Dewdrop was left alone in the dreadful silence of the room, but not for long. Soon enough the door opened again two people entered, Sister Imperator and a priest Dewdrop didn’t know. They didn’t even greet him, just gestured for him to lay down and take whatever it was they were about to do to him.

He obliged, well past wanting to argue, scream or cry.

When the stranger began to chant words Dewdrop didn’t recognize, when the candles burst into flames, when the fire started licking at his skin, when agonizing pain washed over him, when he started screaming… that was the last he remembered.

The news of the ritual having ended was delivered to Aether by a text message. Anger boiled in him at how lightly his pack’s despair was treated by the Clergy. Still, he peeled himself away from Mountain—who he had to knock out with his quintessence when Dewdrop’s screams carried through the corridors—and all but ran to the infirmary, where he’d been told the remaining part of his pack was.

When he burst through the door, he felt his heart crack. He’d hear it, too, if not for the raised voices of the infirmary staff and doctors running around the single occupied bed, trying their best to save the broken little ghoul laying on it. His skin was raw and he looked so small. If Aether hadn’t known any better he’d scream at the doctor currently pressing down on his chest rhythmically to stop, to be gentler, lest he break that sweet creature’s ribs.

He did scream, but with a different plea on his lips.

The quintessence ghoul fell to his knees by the bed. He knew he was taking up space someone that could actually help could take, but if… but if that was it, he couldn’t move away. Someone tried to pull him back, but Aether didn’t budge, and soon they gave up.

It was all a blur to him, begging and crying and begging again to Dewdrop’s limp body as people around him tried to make his heart work again. He doesn’t know how long it has been, it felt like days to Aether, but when he could breathe again Dewdrop was stable. That’s what they told him.

“We got him back,” someone said. “He’s stable for now.”

For now.

For. Now.

Dewdrop flatlined twice more. They got him back twice more. They told Aether he was stable for now twice more.

Neither he, nor Mountain had been with him those other two times. Not technically. The infirmary staff decided, after the first time, that they didn’t need two wailing demons on their hands as they tried to save the third one. They invested in sedating shots and male nurses strong enough to be able to inject Mountain and Aether with them once the panic set in.

Apart from that, they barely stepped away from him. They only did every other night to go sleep in his bed, that still carried a faint smell of him. It smelt more like him than he did, now. The fresh smell of a humid summer morning.

Morning dew.

The first night that they decided to spend away from Dewdrop—day four of his coma—Mountain took a piece of him with them. His horns, the beautiful twisted obsidian horns that had broken off had been laying on the bedside table like there was no value to them. Mountain grabbed them, squeezing so hard that the skin of his palms hadn’t broken only by a miracle.

Day seven of Dewdrop’s coma.

It was morning. Mountain and Aether were sulking over the dining table, sipping their respective teas. There was no warmth around them.

They’d go see Dewdrop soon, sit by him and stare at his still face—like they've been doing for the last week—as if their intense gazes would make him open his eyes. As if it would make him better.

Mountain was putting their mugs away when he heard Aether gasp, and when his head snapped to the side his legs nearly gave out under him.

Dewdrop.

He was standing in the door to the commons, leaning against the door frame, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that once upon a time had probably belonged to one of the ghouls currently stunned to death. The now fire ghoul had a soft smile on his face, even though it looked wrong with his skin all dry and warm-toned. But he was there. Alive. Awake.

Mountain threw himself at him first, squeezing him in his arms and apologizing for the pain it was causing him at the same time. Dewdrop winced but laughed, doing his best to hug the earth ghoul back. “I’m here. I’m here, Mounty.”

Aether approached them slowly, not believing his own eyes. “W– what are you doing here?”

He was afraid that if he tried to touch Dewdrop, the illusion would dissipate. He slowly outstretched an arm and placed a hand on his back, flinching at the unexpected warmth of his skin.

But he didn’t disappear.

“I snuck out,” he shrugged.

Still in disbelief, the quintessence ghoul wrapped his own arms around both Mountain and Dewdrop, pressing his nose into the latter’s hair. He smelled differently, so differently, but under all of it it was still him. It was still Dewdrop.

And he was alive.

Aether allowed himself a smile and silently begged Lucifer for it to last. For what his medically trained mind was supplying him with to not be true.

Dewdrop ate breakfast, then they cuddled and talked. They talked about the past, about the touring, about Terzo, Ifrit and Zephyr, recalling all the best memories they shared. They laughed, all three of them. Then they ate lunch, cuddled and talked some more. Then, they ate dinner and got ready for bed. The day went by way too quickly.

Mountain and Aether nestled Dewdrop tightly between them, their arms caging him in and their noses pressed into his neck as the three of them purred as loudly as ever.

“I love you,” Dewdrop told them. “Both of you, so, so much. You know that, right?”

“Of course, droplet,” Aether replied, kissing him softly.

“We love you, too,” Mountain added before slotting his own lips against Dewdrop’s.

“I just want you to remember that,” he whispered. “You’ll be okay.”

Soon, Mountain fell asleep, then Aether, holding Dewdrop closely. He waited, fighting against sleep, holding on to the energy that was leaving him with an iron grip, just to be able to look down at the two ghouls in his arms for a bit more. Just a bit longer.

“I’m sorry about my promise, Mounty,” Dewdrop muttered into Mountain’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He turned to Aether and did the same, “Take care of each other, Aeth.”

Then he let sleep take him.

When they woke up again, for just a moment they thought it had all been a bad dream. Dewdrop wasn’t hot like the evening before, his skin was cold. Just like it used to be.

But then they realized his heart wasn’t beating.

The sound that had ripped out of Mountain’s mouth at the realization would haunt Aether for eternity, burned into his brain. Just like the sight of Dewdrop’s cold, lifeless body being cradled tightly in the earth ghoul’s arms as he rocked back and forth, delirious.

“He knew,” he wailed. He was right. Dewdrop did know what it had been and that there wouldn’t be a next day for him.

“He did,” Aether confirmed. He felt empty, yet with anguish pouring off of him in waves. He couldn’t tear his tear-filled eyes away from the pale face of their dead packmate.

Dead.

The quintessence ghoul tried to calm his mind, thinking about how Dewdrop passed gently in his sleep, without pain, and in the arms of people he had loved the most, and who loved him. Always would.

But he couldn’t. Their Dewdrop was dead and there was nothing that could make it better.

They didn’t burn his body, as it was customary for fire ghouls. To them he never was one. He was their droplet, their water lily, their Dewdrop. He always would be.

They wrapped him in a soft, baby blue cloth and put him into a stone coffin crafted by Mountain himself. He looked so small in it. So wrong.

They took him to the lake. He was a freshwater ghoul, after all. They knew the lake was deep enough and he loved it so much, it couldn’t be anywhere else.

Mountain didn’t cry this time. All he did, just before they pushed the coffin into the lake, was kiss the stone over where Dewdrop’s head was inside, and whisper, “You promised.”

Aether cried. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks one by one, shoulders shaking and mouth agape, letting out sobs and pained whimpers, hand against his chest, as if he was trying to hold together the heart that had shattered into million pieces inside him. He had to, for Mountain.

The noise the water made once the coffin had rolled off the dock and into the lake was agonizing for both of them. They’d never see Dewdrop swimming, jumping out of the water and twisting his lithe body in the air before diving back in with a grin on his face again. They’d never hear him splashing that water, or any other, again.

He was gone.

They stood there, clutching their matching necklaces made of Dewdrop’s obsidian horns in their hands, and clinging tightly to each other. They stared at the, now flat, surface of the lake as the sun slowly set and day turned into night, and they wondered how much more the two of them could take.

Neither of them found an answer.

What they found, though, was something to help the two of them survive. They’d give themselves time to grieve, but then… then the Abbey would turn to dust. And everyone in it.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #cw death

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ghostchems · 1 year ago

Text

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part one

art by the lovely @stainedlilac

author’s note: been cooking this one up for sometime. about 4k words. 18+! mdni! ao3 link. this will be a looooong one. if you like it, PLEASE tell me omg. tell me in the tags or send me a message please and thanks.

~~~~

Terzo is serving a death sentence.

It isn’t like he had much of a choice.

He remembers the game night clearly. The typical arguments and accusations of cheating had subsided and it was a rare moment of fun and relaxation with his brothers.

The next thing he remembers is waking up on a gurney and gasping for air. They told him his brothers were dead. They told him they had removed his head for a photoshoot and then reattached it again. They gave him a choice: die now or take their money and never speak to them again.

Terzo lives in solitude. The mansion he was put up in is large with enough rooms to fill all of the stories of his time at the clergy, which already feels like a lifetime ago. But it is just him. Only him. He spends his days in the quiet, stewing in his bitterness of how his reign came to an end and how the clergy had pushed him aside. The longer he is alone, the more angry he becomes.

What is he supposed to do now?

They left him with nothing. Nothing besides money, which feels like the ultimate insult.

He lets his own home fall into disrepair. Trinkets and memorabilia from his past life pile up around him until he is forced to shove it all into one room to get it out of his sight. His days are filled with nothingness. He doesn’t know who he is anymore or what he’s meant to do. The purpose he had spent his life preparing for had been ripped from him.

He doesn’t pay his bills on time so on more than one occasion, his power is shut off or he doesn’t have warm water. He eats cereal out of collection plates that bear the name of his old band. He is never completely dressed and doesn’t shower or clean himself for days on end.

What is the point?

One day, there is a knock at the door. An unfamiliar feeling of dread washes over him, anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he creeps to the window. Terzo sighs deeply once he realizes there is no one at the door. He shuffles outside and stares at a brown envelope on his doorstep. The speed at which he snatches the envelope and slams the door behind him almost makes him dizzy. He manages to steady himself back at the window, his eyes narrowing as he looks to see if anyone is watching.

Terzo tears through the envelope. What he sees sends red hot anger coursing through his veins. It’s a magazine and on the cover of it is his bloodied, severed head. He nearly rips it apart. The sight of his own father standing behind Copia, the little rat that sniveled his way to the top —

He exhales sharply out of his nose as his eyes fall to his severed head and he runs his fingers across the cover. This was all he ever was to his father and to the clergy leadership: a prop. A puppet to push out to the masses and parrot the word they approved of and the second he had any thoughts or ideas of his own, they threw him away.

Terzo tosses the magazine on a nearby console and storms into his study, his fingers brushing through his wild hair. He can’t live like this; he can’t. It’s tearing him apart inside, twisting him into a withering husk of a person. He needs to make a change and he knows it.

He needs a new toy to play with.

He picks his head up, his eyes flickering to the closed double doors to the dining room. His life’s work is piled up and discarded there, filling him with a combined sense of longing and anger.

Terzo needs everything gone.

***

You stare at the ad on your computer screen. It seems too good to be true. It must be too good to be true. You’ve never been a personal assistant before but it clearly states “no experience necessary for applicants”. Your fingers drift over the mousepad to the apply button. It couldn’t hurt to at least try, right? The worst that could happen is you get denied or never hear back but that is par for the course with job hunting anyway. You click apply and fill out your information, submitting the form after uploading your resume.

You are sick of your current job working at a call center. Sure, it pays the bills but you haven’t gotten a raise in the two years that you’ve been there and your expenses have gone up. The fact that you struggle to make ends meet even with a roommate makes you spiral at least once a week. Not to mention that the job itself is soul-sucking, draining you of all positive energy so that once you are done working for the day you typically go right to bed.

You need a change.

You don’t want to get your hopes up but it’s hard not to fantasize about what you could do if you are able to secure the assistant job. The idea of having spending money to buy takeout instead of living off cereal, oatmeal and ramen is getting you excited. Or maybe, as a personal assistant, your boss will feed you each day so you’ll be able to save money on groceries. The bar is so low for improving your day to day life.

The thought brings an important revelation to the forefront of your mind: you didn’t know much about who the person requesting an assistant. You pull up the job posting again and read over the description. The only information it gives is in the title line of the posting (which you completely missed when applying): Personal Assistant to Golden Bachelor.

“Golden bachelor?” You say to no one at all as you google the term. You didn’t think people referred to themselves as “bachelors” anymore in this day and age. Well, it makes sense that a rich, lonely man would need an assistant to help him run his life - he’s probably always had assistants and can’t function without one. You’re not one to usually judge but when it comes to rich people they are fair game.

You close your laptop and roll over on your bed, grabbing your comforter to cocoon yourself in. Exhaustion grips your body and the weight of the comforter starts to soothe you off into an unfortunately restless sleep. Not that you aren’t used to it.

***

Terzo is unimpressed with the applicants so far, despite the fact that it very clearly says “no experience needed” in the post he made. Also, the fact that there are so many applicants and he has to go through each individual application and read about these people and their silly jobs.

Ugh. Boring.

His leg bounces as skims through the applications on his laptop in the dim light of his study, reading glasses perched low on his nose. His study is practically empty besides his antique desk and chair that seemed to have come with the house. There are plenty of built-in bookshelves and cabinets lining the walls but they are all empty and full of dust. The walls are a dark blue that look black in the evening light with hardwood floors that creak with every step.

Terzo gives a sigh and removes his glasses, sitting back in his chair with a huff. This isn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He was expecting the first applicant to be a hit but when that person had nothing particularly interesting in their resume, he was feeling defeated. And then the same would happen with each of the other at least fifty he’s gone through by now. He wished he had an assistant to go through these but… well, then what kind of paradox would we be in, then?

He reaches into the pocket of his plush, purple robe for his pack of cigarettes, opens it and then brings it to his lips. Terzo presses a finger to the tip of the cigarette and it immediately lights, taking a deep, long drag of it. Coming back from the dead had its perks, especially because of whatever dark magic the clergy had used to do it. He still isn’t sure exactly what he is capable of but he figured this little trick out when he nearly almost set fire to the entire house while trying to open the curtains in the sitting room.

Terzo is already halfway through the cigarette, his eyes glazing over as he zones out while facing his computer. A notification pops up accompanied by a little “ding” to indicate a new applicant. He groans and rubs his eyes behind his glasses, taking another deep drag of his cigarette.

“Un altro.” Terzo grumbles to himself. One more and then he’ll have a drink before slipping into unconsciousness, potentially on the couch in the sitting room where he spends at least half his nights. He leans forward in his seat, eyes fixed on your application after pulling it up. His tongue darts and licks his painted lips.

Your resume and application oozes desperation, so much so that he can almost taste it. The message introducing yourself is sweet, to the point and the most promising he’s seen thus far. A low growl rumbles through his chest as he copies your name and pastes it into google. He clicks the first Facebook profile to come up with your name, which may or may not be you. There’s no information on the profile other than a pixel-y profile photo of what resembles a young woman. Terzo stares at the photo for some time as he finishes off his cigarette, placing it into a golden ashtray that is almost completely full of ashes.

“Il mio topolino.” He purrs and opens a new window to reply to you, offering windows of availability for an interview.

***

It’s been days and you’re starting to think the whole thing was a scam from the start. Every time you send him when you’re available and can make it to an interview, that date and time comes and goes, and he sends a follow up asking for another time. You’re on the verge of giving up, of letting go of the fantasy of making a considerable amount of money with the potential for perks.

That is, until there is finally a window of opportunity for the both of you. You almost turn it down at this point from being jerked around so much but the pay is just too good to pass up. You make sure to tell a few friends the address and the time of your interview so that they’ll know exactly where you are in case this is a scam and you are about to be abducted. He even follows up with you the morning of, telling you that he is looking forward to the interview so it seems like it is happening.

It takes you some time to settle on an outfit which ends up being a pair of navy blue slacks, white blouse and a pair of flats, and you put your hair up into a neat ponytail. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide that you look professional enough.

The drive to his house is silent, by design so that you keep your focus on the interview. You’re not familiar with the area he is located in even though it is in your town. There is an old gate at the front of his driveway that is open and probably not functional judging from the state it’s in. The driveway is long and rocky, and the further you travel down it the more uneasy you feel. The house comes into view and you have half a mind to turn the car around.

It’s massive. Most of the windows are dark, complimenting the dark color scheme of the house exterior. It looks haunted. You stare at it through the dashboard window of your car, nervousness creeping up your chest. Your eyes fall to the clock in your car and it reads ten minutes until the scheduled interview time. A shaky breath falls from your lips.

To be early is to be on time.

The walk to the front door feels like an eternity and it’s hard to fight the feeling that the house is somehow watching you. The closer you get, you realize that the siding is a dark hunter green with black shingles which really contributes to the overall spookiness of the Victorian mansion. You reach the front door and take a moment to smooth out your outfit and adjust your backpack on your shoulders. Your lungs fill with air and you lift your hand to knock — but the door swings open before you have a chance to do so.

You are met with a pair of haunting, mismatched eyes.

He doesn’t look the way you imagined. His hair is messy, sticking up in most places with some of it falling into his face. He is wearing a plush purple robe over what looks like a dress shirt and he is in a pair of black slippers. You can’t tell if he is wearing any kind of pants. What stands out the most is his painted face, sharp black paint cutting into his cheek bones and around his eyes. Despite the rest of his appearance, the paint is crisp. His eyes look weary as they look you up and down, just as you had done to him.

“You are here for the assistant job.”

A statement, not a question and a very thick italian accent.

You blink at him a few times and then hold out your hand. “Yes, sir. I have my resume here for you to review and—“

“You’re hired.” His expression is still tired and he turns away from you. “Begin cataloging and packaging my memorabilia.” He waves his hand and starts to trudge away from you.

“U-uh, shouldn’t you show me around first or something?”

Terzo spins on his heel back in your direction and starts to walk toward you. The closer he gets to you, the more you can see the wrinkles that had been obscured with his paint. His bright, white eye sparkles in the low light. You tuck your folder against your chest, a blank expression across your face. He looms over you and his eyes drift over your shoulder before he points behind. You turn your body slowly, looking to the double doors.

“In there – the dining room. That is where the memorabilia is.”

His breath tickles the side of your neck and it gives you goosebumps. You can only bring yourself to nod slowly, trying to think of the salary that was promised in the ad and then step toward the doors. He watches you for a moment before slinking away. You hear him leave and a sense of relief washes over you as you open one of the double doors.

The dining room is a complete mess. There are half filled boxes everywhere, different fabrics and strange items littered across the floor. The dining table is covered in piles and piles of books. You close the door behind you and immediately start to think through a plan of attack. It was already after lunch so you only had a few hours to get started. This is not what you were expecting but then again, the amount you were getting paid made it worth it.

From what you could tell from rummaging through his things, he had been in some sort of spooky music group. There are posters with concert dates, ticket stubs and several different books full of photographs of him and masked men performing on stage. You think that it makes perfect sense given everything you’ve observed from him so far, especially his dramatic paint. Still, there is something darker about him - something that chills you when you think about it.

Your thoughts run wild. In the photos, he looks regal like he is some kind of prince, commanding the attention of the crowd. There are photos of women swooning, of him holding people’s hands and kissing the back of them while their faces light up. He seemed immensely popular from the size of the crowds and the interactions you’ve been able to see from rummagining.

What happened? Did he retire? Did the band fizzle out? He didn’t seem all that old… You wonder why he is here, in this home in your town. It doesn’t seem like a place for someone of his profession or status. You carefully start to organize the tour memorabilia on the table, trying to keep like items together before diving back into another box on the floor.

Terzo isn’t too far away, in fact he is right outside of the door for most of the time you’re working in the dining room. After every little noise he presses his ear to the door, listening to your movement. The feeling of excitement starts to warm his body up, his skin tingling as he starts to think up how he wants to play with you. It takes all of his self control not to burst in the room and scare you, just to see the look on your face.

Oh, he wants to mess with you. He wants to see your smooth skin turn pink, to make you squeak and stutter just by lingering a bit too close to you. Terzo stifles a groan at the thought and presses his head against the door. Unbeknownst to you, you are his little mouse to chase, to tease, to bring some liveliness back to his boring life. He can’t help but scratch his nails against the door and gives another soft groan at the thought of someone giving him attention again.

He wants you now but he knows he must wait. He has to bide his time, he has to slowly draw you into him until nothing else matters to you. There’s movement from the dining room and Terzo quickly takes a step back from the door, but the sound fades and he’s left in silence. A deep sigh falls from his lips as his mind turns back to you. Even from just meeting you, he can tell that you are going to be perfect for him to prey on.

Terzo slips out of the sitting room.

You hear something from behind the door but when you lower the box onto the table quietly, it’s gone. A shiver runs down your spine. Even with being completely alone in the dining room you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Maybe it’s an effect of this old house - maybe it’s haunted. You shake your head, figuring you are being a little bit too influenced by the prayer candles and spirit boards you’ve been sorting through.

Your fingers pull at the flaps of the box, the last one from the floor for you to go through. Once it’s open, you sink to your seat and stare at the contents.

Condoms. Condoms with his face on them. Condoms that say “Popestar” and “Missionary Man”. You pick one up from the box and turn it over a few times in your hand, your mouth agape.

“You haven’t gotten much done, eh?”

His voice makes you jump, the condom wrapper you have been examining flinging from your hand. He watches it fall to the ground before settling his gaze back on you, a darkly amused look on his face. He must have crept in from the kitchen.

“I-I mean I just started.” You struggle to put a sentence together as you are distracted by his mismatched eyes. “Actually, I haven’t technically accepted the position yet.”

“Oh? So you don’t need the job?” The venom in his voice makes your skin crawl.

“No, no, I do — I do need the job.” There is a sick kind of satisfaction oozing from his annoyed expression. “I am just going to need to have the job offer in writing, including pay.” You almost whisper but you keep your eyes locked on his. You need that money. His lips curl into a smirk and he nods.

“I’ll have it for you tomorrow, topolina.” Terzo purrs as he leans against the table. Your eyes drift and you notice the now unbuttoned dress shirt giving way to his hairy chest. He leans down, his robe coming completely open, and picks the condom up off the floor and tosses it back on the table. “You will be back tomorrow, si?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You realize you don’t even know what you’re supposed to call him yet.

“Ah, bene.” His eyes sparkle of mischief and he hovers just next to you for a moment, looming over you. The tension rises in the room and you can feel your chest start to tighten. Terzo gives a soft growl, then exits the dining room, his long robe trailing behind him. You rest your head in your hands and exhale slowly. You make a decision here and now: you’ll stick with this job until the first paycheck and then you’ll figure out whether the obvious red flags are worth the pay.

As you gather up your things, you decide to leave a copy of your resume there, just in case he wants to review it. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and grab your phone, heading out of the dining room but something stops you midstep. The distant sound of him singing fills your ears. You can’t tell what the song is but he sounds incredible. Your eyes flicker over the mountains of memorabilia as you finally get your feet moving.

He finishes singing as soon as you’ve stepped outside of the house, hovering by one of his bedroom windows to watch you get into your car. A growl rumbles up from his throat and he can’t help but run his fingers down his chest but stops just short of his briefs. He exhales slowly — he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself but the arousal he feels just from you perceiving him is too much for him to handle.

Terzo had forgotten what it felt like not to be alone.

He thinks about you on your knees in front of him, singing his praises, telling him how good he is before tugging at his waistband. His hand snakes down to palm himself through his briefs with a soft moan and starts to make his way to his bed. Terzo sits on the edge of it, his cock straining against the fabric of his briefs, the tip of it poking through the slit. He pushes them down and frees himself, his hard cock resting on his stomach.

Terzo thinks about you begging to taste him, begging for him to use you however he wants. His cock jumps and he takes it in his hand, lazily stroking it as growls rumble in his throat. He leans back on to the bed, his legs still dangling off the side. He could have anyone he wanted when he was Papa. People would beg him to take them to bed, to get a taste of Papa Emeritus. At the time, he felt a deep loneliness and self-loathing despite the attention or perhaps because of the attention, but he hardly ever turned it down. There was always the one moment he thought that they were there because of him, because of who he was and not because of the title he held, and that moment made it feel okay.

Terzo would take that over the loneliness he feels now.

His eyes fall shut, his lips part as soft moans fill the room. He strokes his cock more vigorously now, his thumb swiping over the tip every few strokes. He thinks of you behaving like the other siblings and ghouls that had wanted him so very badly. On your knees still, begging for your communion. You would open your mouth for him and stick out your tongue, ready to receive.

“Oh, cazzo.” He squeezes his eyes shut and gives a thundering moan as he finishes, thick ropes of cum landing on his chest and dress shirt. Terzo pants and lets his hand rest on his stomach, his chest rising and falling while his eyes drift back to the window.

He can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo #terzo x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfics

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gravehags · 6 months ago

Text

destroying all (and make them want it again)

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: copia holding reader hostage for marathon fucking, copia being our favorite little sex freak, office sex, blowjobs, terzo being terzo, reader becoming more satanic every day :)

Words: 2,848

Summary: You'd think after almost three days of being held hostage by your perverted lover, you'd have tired of his touch. You'd think.

a/n: i for one would really benefit from being locked up in bed with copia for days like i really think i deserve that

~~~

By the time Copia allows you to stumble out of his quarters two days after your fateful visit you are delightfully, deliciously sore.

You had no idea he’d be so…voracious. Your mild-mannered awkward Cardinal had you bent over and spread on every surface in his apartment, multiple times, drawing words out of you that you never dreamed of saying. He wasn’t a cruel kidnapper either - sporadically he would leave the apartment and return to you bearing sustenance from the dining hall. Your favorite was lounging nude on his mussed sheets while he dutifully and adoringly fed you plump purple grapes, kissing you in between bites. The thought stirs your heart as you open your apartment door and stumble inside to your bedroom to collapse face down on the duvet. You groan as you hike one leg up, the beautiful ache of being thoroughly used emanating from your core and into your muscles. You’re about to throw yourself in the shower when your phone vibrates.

Miss you already bellezza mia xx

You sigh.

Miss you more <3

I could…come over?

You laugh out loud, shaking your head.

You dog! You’re relentless. I haven’t showered in days, I feel filthy.

I could help you feel filthier ;)

Copia! Not that I’m opposed to the idea but my girl needs a break, per favore. You’ve worn her out.

Mi dispiace amore, she’s just so plump and willing and perfect for me, I can’t help myself.

Speaking of your girl, she’s stirring to attention at the thought of where this conversation is going and your fingers hover over the screen, tempted, before shaking your head.

You’re welcome to come over but no funny business. Might show my face in the dining hall to prove I’m still alive if you’re interested in meeting me there.

There’s a pause and your phone vibrates.

I’ll meet you at dinner and see if I can’t persuade her. Ti amo <3

Love you

When the two of you meet up a couple hours later at your usual table in the dining hall you garner more than a few curious looks. Rather than taking his typical spot across from you, instead he elects to sit next to you. You’re midway through a forkful of vegetarian lasagna when you feel the slide of leather clad fingers along your thigh. When you slowly turn your head, Copia’s shit-eating grin pans into view and you drop your fork, unamused.

“Really? In front of my lasagna?”

He gives you a creepy nod, still holding his smile and the sight has you bringing a fist to your mouth to stifle your laughter. Reaching down you grab one of his fingers and bend it back slightly as a warning.

“Ah, my amore would never hurt–ah!”

He cradles his hand to his chest and gives you a pout unbefitting a man of his distinguished age and position.

“Told you,” you say, shoving a bite of lasagna into your mouth then pointing at him with your fork, “no funny business.”

“Oh she’s cruel,” he laments, shaking his head, “La mia crudele, bella padrona. She would watch me wither away, never to feel her touch–”

“Oh come on, Copia, you held me hostage in your bed for almost three days! This is the first real meal I’ve had in literal days please let me–”

“She does not care for me,” he says, somehow managing to give you the most unsettling puppy-dog eyes ever. “She tells me she hates me and she wants me dead.”

“Oh for the love of fuck you cannot be serious,” your cheek rests on your propped up fist, watching this ridiculous display. “I just want to enjoy my lasagna unmolested,” you lower your voice as a sibling walks past, giving the two of you a disgusted once-over, “so naturally that means I hate you. Unholy fuck, if I had known pussy was going to turn you into this I never would have–”

“What kind of fuck?” Copia asks innocently, mustache twitching.

“I–hmm. You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asks, filthy leer returning to his face.

You roll your eyes but can’t smother the smile.

“I’m leaving, Copia,” you announce, standing up. “If you would like to accompany me to bed - for sleep - then you know where to find me. Unbelievable.”

You stomp off and you can feel his eyes on the sway of your ass the entire way out of the room. He does join you, not long after that, the picture of a perfect gentleman as he strokes your hair and places soft kisses to the top of your head. You can’t lie though - a part of you is disappointed he didn’t continue his dirty old man routine but, you think as your eyes drift closed, you really did need to give your poor cunt a break.

The next morning you awaken to an empty space beside you and you’re not surprised. Copia had to wake up early for morning prayer and you’ve been lucky to have had him by your side for as long as you did. You feel his absence acutely - how could you not after days with him? - and it leaves you with a lingering sense of melancholy as you get ready for the day and leave your quarters. The first few hours of your work day passes without incident - typing emails, ordering archival supplies, meeting briefly with Sister Imperator (with whom you can barely make eye contact after shirking your duties to get repeatedly and thoroughly railed by her Cardinal), and continuing on your quest to catalog the Ministry’s extensive art collection. When lunchtime rolls around that unpleasant sadness sits heavy in your belly. Part of you feels ridiculous letting yourself be so affected by well, love, but hey it’s your first time at this, right? Gotta cut yourself some slack. Your heart aches for him but also…other parts of you. You thought for sure after the marathon he just put you through you’d be satisfied for a while but if anything it’s made you even more hungry. When you look up at the clock and realize it’s lunchtime, a low heat begins to simmer in your belly and between your legs. You hesitate before standing up and heading to the door with a grin on your face.

When you approach Copia’s office door and knock softly, you’re met with a muffled “entrare!” and open it to sidle inside. He’s on his old landline with someone he clearly would rather not be speaking to judging from his exaggerated eye-rolls and dismissive hand gestures. You quietly walk up to his desk and try not to laugh as you listen to him desperately try to end the conversation.

“Uh-huh. Yes. Yep. Uh, you too. Okay, goodbye. Good–what? Yes that will be taken care of, of course. Buh-bye. Bye.” Copia slams the receiver down and turns to fix you with a tired stare.

“Long day?” you ask, rounding the desk to lean against it.

“Stressful day, all of a sudden the fundraiser gala is my problem when it should be Terzo’s problem, but where is Terzo? Nowhere to be found, naturalmente. And Saltaria–wh-what are you doing?”

You’re halfway through sinking to your knees next to him when you blink up at him innocently.

“Helping with the stress.”

His jaw falls open and he swallows thickly, eyes on the way you inch up your flowy skirt to expose your spread thighs to his gaze. You place your hands on his knees and he jumps comically.

“Cardinale, you were very thorough in your ah, teachings these past few days however there are some areas we never touched upon.”

“O-oh?”

“Mmm mmhmm,” you confirm, grabbing the end of his black cassock and inching it up his legs. When you reach past his knees and can go no further he lifts himself off the chair and hastily draws the garment to his hips. You smile at the tent in his trousers and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“Missed you this morning,” you murmur, hand coming up to cup the curve of his cock. “Been wanting you so badly all day.”

“T-thought you were eh, sick of my advances?”

You give him a gentle squeeze and smile, resting your cheek on his knee.

“That was yesterday,” you say, finger drawing patterns on his bulge, “And while she might be tired, I certainly am not.”

His gloved hands grip the armrests of his desk chair as you lean forward to slowly unzip his trousers. When you take him out, hard and leaking, he sighs.

“You don’t know how many times I came into this office wanting to do this exact thing,” you confess, hand wrapping around him, “How all you had to do was say the word and I’d be on my knees or bent over that desk.”

He sucks in a breath.

“I-Is that so, amore? So all those times we were in here working, you–”

“--Were thinking about you fucking me raw? Mmhmm.”

Copia lets out a sigh and his head falls against the back of his chair.

“But let’s not think about the past, hmm? All I want to think about right now is you teaching me how you like to fuck my mouth. Okay?”

His hips buck into your touch and he lets out a whine before nodding. Slowly, keeping your eyes on his, you bring your lips to the red, swollen head of him and place a chaste kiss. Pre dampens your lips and you slowly dart your tongue out to taste the salt of him. He exhales shakily and encouraged, you lower yourself once more to drag the tip of your tongue along his slit. His low whimper makes you grin and gently you slide your lips over the head, flattening your tongue underneath him. You want to drag this out as long as possible, delighting in the feel of his heated flesh in your mouth so you suckle at it and moan around him when his gloved hand flies to the back of your head.

“D-dolcezza,” he breathes, burying his fingers in your hair to cup your skull, “Are you s-sure you’ve never done this before?”

You slip him out of your mouth and give him a grin.

“I’m flattered,” you murmur, using your thumb to rub against the vein going down the length of him, “But no. Just watched a lot of porn, honestly.”

He chuffs out a laugh and his head tips back to thunk against the back of his chair.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” you say, “Tell me what you like. Guide me.”

His eyes slip closed and a lazy grin curls his lips.

“Amore you could bite it off and I’d say thank you,” he groans as you lower your lips to suck at the head once more, “But–ah–I want to see what y-your instinct tells you, si?”

When you laugh around him the vibrations make his hips twitch against your mouth, and you take that as permission. Slowly, you slide your lips past the head and down the shaft and you can feel yourself dripping at the way he stretches your mouth. You’re about half way down the length of him and you can feel him petting your hair.

“Bene, amore mio,” he chokes out, “Molto bene. C-can you, eh, take more?”

You’re not sure but you’re willing to try, so you nod as best you can.

“Breathe through your nose, amata,” he sighs and you can feel drool threatening to spill from your lips and tears prick your eyes as you near the base of him. When the head of him prods your throat you swallow around him and the action causes his hips to spasm. Panicked, you jerk backwards - not sliding all the way off but just enough to where you can catch your breath - and you hear him murmuring praise above you.

“Cazzo, so good for me, taking me all the way into that pretty mouth. You’re doing so well for me, bellezza mia.”

His words of encouragement make your clit throb and push you to once again slide your lips down the length of him, dragging your tongue along the underside. This time, when his hips buck into your mouth you’re ready for him, allowing the head to bump the back of your throat as you nose the brown curls between his legs. Gently, the hand in your hair pulls you off him and pushes you back down, and you realize he’s showing you what he likes.

“Ah, ragazza intelligente mia,” he groans, and you can feel his eyes on you as you begin to bob your head, “My beautiful girl always knows–ah!--what I like. Always–cazzo–so p-perfect for me. J-Just like that. Just like that, amore. J–augh–”

You’ve picked up your pace, the wet sounds between the two of you pornographic as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The hand unoccupied with gripping his cock, slides under your skirt where you find yourself soaked.

“That’s it,” Copia grunts, “Touch yourself, amata mia. L-Let those sweet fingers–hnngh–rub that pretty little clit.”

You do as he asks, moaning sloppily around his cock as you flex your hips into your hand. His grip on your hair tightens as he begins directing the movements of your head once more, fucking up into your throat and making you gag around him.

“Close,” he pants, “So close, a-amore. C-can I cum down your throat? Me lo permetterai? Please, please, please.”

As best you can, you look up at him and make eye contact. You imagine what he must see between his knees - you with your mouth stuffed full of him, mascara running down your cheeks, and your fingers frantically rubbing at your clit under your skirt - and the thought alone makes you cum, moaning around him and your hips bucking. You nod frantically as you continue chasing your own high and with one, two, three thrusts of his hips Copia empties himself in your throat. The way he holds you steady as his cock twitches in your mouth has you clenching around nothing, desperate for more of him. When he removes his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek as he pants wildly, you slowly slide off of him and rest your cheek on his trembling knee. You’re only half aware of the way he tucks himself back into his trousers and gently eases you up by the shoulders to sit in his lap. You brush your thumb along his cheekbone and lean in for a slow, deep kiss. He hums contentedly into your mouth and you pull away with a cheeky grin.

“Like the taste of yourself, amore? Filthy thing.”

He tilts his head back and laughs at your echoing of his words said only days ago during your first time together. You lean in and brush noses with him, moving to kiss him once more when the door flies open to reveal Terzo.

“I am here to discuss the gala fra–oh.”

The Papa’s eyes flick between the two of you and the smeared paints on both your lips.

“Ah, a little afternoon delight for my topolini, huh? Tell me was it on the desk? A classic, I–”

“Fuck off, Terzo,” you say.

His face falls.

“No, you don’t mean that bella. You–”

“She said fuck off, Terzo Emeritus. Now.”

Terzo schools his face into an expression of outrage but you can tell he’s trying desperately not to smile.

“Very well, just don’t come crying to me when Imperator asks why your work isn’t done, huh?”

“You mean your work, sì?” Copia says, giving him a look. Terzo lets out a nervous laugh.

“Ah, yes. Well. Perhaps I’ll just take this–” Terzo says, grabbing a thick manila folder labeled GALA “--and get back to ah, fucking off. Ciao ciao, topolini.”

With a flourish, he’s gone.

“Really should have locked that door,” you muse quietly, “Anyone could have come in.”

“Anyone did come in, amore,” Copia laughs, “But not only did you eh, soothe my worries, you inadvertently got Terzo to do his fucking job. Promise me you’ll come see me at lunch more often, sì?”

“Not just for the blowjobs?” you ask innocently, flicking the jeweled grucifix on his chest.

“Next time it’s your turn,” he says, gloved hand inching your floral skirt up your thigh.

“Hmm well last I checked,” you say, looking at your watch, “It’s only half past noon. Plenty of time for you to eat.”

He grins at you.

“You know Terzo was right,” he says, urging you to stand and hop up on the worksurface in front of him.

“Oh?”

“We have under utilized my desk.”

Your smile splits your face as you spread your legs for him to settle between.

“Good thing I wore a skirt then, hmm?”

He’s already hooking a finger on the gusset of your soaked underwear, pulling it to the side.

“Thank Satan for small mercies.”

“Ave Sathanas,” you sigh as you lie back and let him work his devilry.

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

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