#primo emeritus smut

[copias-sewer-rat]

Naughty Presents: Papa Emeritus I x AFAB!Reader

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

Words: 6K

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

Available on Ao3

Secondo (Ao3)

Terzo (Ao3)

Copia (Ao3)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I am sorry, I’ll be good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Primo dives right in, his hands at each of your legs, supporting your effort. His hooked nose bruises your clit in the most delicious way, and even if your body feels so tired, with a couple of licks from his skilled tongue you can feel the tightness in your belly starting to build up again. He drinks from you, his face pure lust as he looks at you, lost in your own pleasure, and you wonder how he is holding without touching his erection. He won’t strain from his path, right now being lost in your perfectly sweet cunt.

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

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

“Caro, please, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

Italian translations:

amore: love

il suo fiore preferito: his favourite flower

mio sole: my sun

Davvero?: really?

Cuore mio: my heart

amoruccio: my little love

mi dispiace: I’m sorry

bene: good

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

peccaminoso Satana: sinful Satan

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

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

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

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

come si desidera: as you wish

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

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

----

Taglist:

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

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

[her-satanic-wiles]

Guess Who?

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

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

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

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

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

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

🔞 MDNI 🔞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She just did.”

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

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

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

“Name the game, Papa.”

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

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

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

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

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

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

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

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

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

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

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

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

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S-Secondo?”

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

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

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

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

SLAP.

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

SLAP.

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

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

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

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

“Yes, Papa!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

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

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

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

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She can take more, Papa.”

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

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

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

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅

WARNING!! - NSFW

All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style

Primo

Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)

Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you

Soft and slow, very gentle

Long, painted strokes along your entire area

Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit

Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth

Secondo

Roughly fingers you while eating you out

Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you

Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too

Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him

Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)

Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)

Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him

Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs

Massages your ass and tits while eating you out

Terzo

Would die happy drowned in pussy

Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day

Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt

In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)

Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress

LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe

Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides

Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit

Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming

Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)

Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue

While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will

Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that

Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)

Copia

Kisses every inch of you

Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)

Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)

Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face

Wants to be used like your sex toy

Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off

Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response

He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times

Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it

Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”

Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)

[honey-tongued-devil]

Sinners' tango

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

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

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

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

[da-rulah]

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

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

Primo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Secondo

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dolcezza, are you alright? Too much?"

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

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

He kissed away the tears, mumbling praises to you.

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

He never could resist your begging.

Terzo

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

But boy, did it hurt...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[revelisms]

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

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

Primo

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

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

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

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

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

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

Secondo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terzo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 5th - Objectification (Papa Emeritus I x Gender - Neutral!Reader)

Tags: Dom!Primo, Ghoul!Reader, Abuse Of Power, Dub-Con, Objectification, Degradation, Pet-Play, Humiliation, Evil Primo, References To Piss Kink, Age-Gap, Deepthroating, Quickie, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Spit, Facial, No Aftercare, First Person POV

It's not easy being the least favorite Ghoul of Papa Emeritus the First. Hell, it's not like he respects you if you're his favorite Ghoul, either. And yet, I still try so hard to please him, to no avail. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get anything right. Everything I do only ends up bringing more contempt and anger towards me.

And today has been the worst day. I say that every day I have to work with Primo, but today I mean it. One thing after another seemed to keep going wrong, and of course, I was the one that took the blame. It seemed like I couldn't go five minutes without being screamed at and degraded by that old sack of shit.

"Stupid Ghoul! Can't you do anything right?!" He would bark in my direction so often, I was so close to snapping. I wanted to yell back, tell him if he wants things done his way, he should shut up and do it himself. But no, all day I managed to hold my tongue. Until I couldn't.

It was so small. It was so stupid. I was asked (or rather, demanded) to grab him coffee before the show, and I screwed up his order. An honest mistake, but one that he would not let go unpunished. He took one sip, made a sour face, and spat it out dramatically at my feet. My face went red in embarrassment as the other Ghouls turned their heads towards the scene. Primo always seemed to have a thing for public humiliation.

"You fool, how did you manage to fuck this up?!" He scolds. I hear a few Ghouls snickering, and the combination of being laughed at by my peers, and the feel of Primos hot breath hitting my face as he screams directly in my ear, only makes me grind my teeth in anger. "This is scalding! Are you trying to kill me?!"

"That wasn't my intention, but maybe I should." The words come out of my mouth so quickly, I barely realize I said it. Once I realized I said that out loud, I slapped my hand over my mouth, seeing my life flash before my eyes. Primo goes silent for a moment, and his eyes glaze over with a white-hot rage I've never seen before. I'm so dead.

"...Mi scusi?" Primo mutters lowly, his voice laced with barely concealed venom. The room is so quiet, all I can hear is my heart beating rapidly, pounding in my ears. "N-nothing, Papa." My voice quivers, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, cautiously watching his every move.

Unexpectedly... He smiles. A cruel, crooked smile that only further terrified me. He turns to the other Ghouls in the room. "Out." Is all he says. They all scramble out without question, a few of them exchanging sympathetic glances with me, silently wishing me luck. I gulp, now completely alone with him, for him to punish me however he wishes. Oh Satanas, I hope he doesn't fucking piss on me. Again.

He approaches me, painfully slow. All I can do is stand there, frozen in fear. Running at this point would just make my punishment worse. He clears his throat. "Do you think that is any way to speak to your Papa, stupido cucciolo? Do you think it's acceptable, sassing me like that?" He scowls, talking down to me in an unsettlingly soft voice, similar to how someone would speak while scolding an animal.

"I- I'm so sorry, Papa. I don't know what came over me. I- I didn't mean it-" I stutter nervously, my hands already clammy and trembling. He cuts me off with a finger over my lips. I knew for my own safety, I should probably shut my mouth.

"Ahhh, of course! It's an accident, you didn't mean it. You always find some sort of excuse for your misbehavior. It's never your fault, is it?" He chides sarcastically. "That little mouth of yours loves to get you in trouble. Maybe it's time it gets put to good use..."

Before I can question what he means, he grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me down on my knees, needing little to no effort to do so since my legs were already weak and wobbly. He moves his robes to the side, not wearing anything underneath and exposing himself. I gasp, quickly backing up at the sight. His length was impressive, even for being flaccid, and thick enough to just barely fit in my mouth. I wonder how it would feel in...

"P-Papa, I don't think I should... I- I shouldn't..." I sputter worriedly, all of a sudden deciding professionalism is one of my virtues. Maybe sucking off my shitty boss whose more than twice my age isn't the best move. He scoffs.

"Disobeying my orders once again, are we?" He tsks. "The amount of times you messed up today... I ought to fire you right now. Hell, I should send you back to The Pit myself. But here I am, generously offering you a way to earn your forgiveness. Take it, pet." He growls. I swallow the huge lump in my throat, looking up at him hesitantly. His gaze is cold and unforgiving, completely devoid of compassion. He really means it, doesn't he? Well... If this is the only way to keep my job...

I slowly open my mouth, jaw quivering. I shut my eyes tight. Here goes nothing. He at least had the decency to guide his cock into my mouth for me, but unfortunately, he didn't have the patience to let me take my time with it. He thrusts harshly into my mouth, his soft cock hitting the back of my throat and his pubic hair tickling my nose once I reach the base. I gag, my throat instinctively trying to force him out, but he holds my head in place, not letting me move an inch from my spot.

He lets out a groan of relief. I feel his dick twitch in my throat, already starting to grow and harden. At least one of us is enjoying this. He grips my hair excruciatingly tight with his slender fingers, moving my head up and down on his cock. I already feel the tears sliding down my cheeks as he forces me to choke against him helplessly.

"Finalmente, something you're good at." He grunts, growing to full hardness. "Maybe this should be your new job, hm? Since you're useless at everything else. You want to be your Papas little pet? Satanas, t-that's a good pup..." Fuck, his words are disgusting, degrading, vile. I shouldn't like this. This shouldn't be making my body react this way. This is humiliating, and yet, the hottest thing I've ever experienced at the same time.

I moan around his cock, unable to stop myself. Primo chuckles wickedly, looking down at my red, tear-stained face. "Do you like this, pet?" He smirks down at me, looking absolutely sinister, which only arouses me further. Damn, I got issues. "Maybe if you please me thoroughly, I'll let you have a little bit of pleasure. Would you like that, cucciolo?"

"Mhmph-!" I hum around his length excitedly at the thought of receiving any sort of stimulation. His breathing grows heavier, his eyes fluttering shut. He looks oddly beautiful while he's completely blissed out like this, that for a brief moment, I almost forget how cruel he is. His cock kicks, and he pulls himself out of my mouth, releasing his hot seed all over my face.

I go to wipe the cum off my face, but he quickly snatches my wrist, tutting in warning. "Did I give you permission to clean yourself, pet?" He hisses. I fight the urge to roll my eyes, and shake my head. "Now ask nicely, cucciolo..."

"M-may I please clean my face, Papa...?" I whimper softly, giving him my best pleading eyes in hopes he will respect my request. He smirks, his eyes twinkling evily as he leans over me. He spat, his spit and cum now mixing together and running down my face. "No, you may not." He answers.

He fixes his robes and begins to walk away, leaving me on the ground, covered in his filth. "W-wait!" I exclaim, flustered and sexually frustrated. "You said you would d-do something for me, too!" He laughs.

"I said I might, silly Ghoul." He snickers. Oh, this motherfucker. I whine desperately, nearly in tears once again. "P-please!" I plead, all of my self-respect gone in a moment of desperation. "Please, Papa... I- I'll do anything." He clicks his tongue, thinking for a moment. My heart drops when I hear a knock on the door.

"Papa!" I hear another Ghoul call from the other side of the door. "We're on stage in five!" I gulp. Primo rolls his eyes and shoos the Ghoul away, turning back to me with a mischievous glint in his gaze.

"I will please you, little pet; on one condition." He states. My ears perk up, nodding readily. "From now on, you will obey my orders. No more talking back, no more fuck ups. I don't want to see any more disobedience from you. If you cannot cum in five minutes, you will not cum at all, and you will not complain. Understood?" I nod obediently, too horny to care about the rules he listed that I will 100% break within a week.

"Bravo cucciolo. Now come over here." I go to stand up, but he snaps at me in disapproval. "Ah, ah... crawl." He rumbles. I felt a pit in my stomach as I get on my hands and knees, half- wishing the ground would just swallow me whole. I crawl towards him like a dog, the floor beneath me cold and uncomfortable, only furthering my degradation. He nods in sadistic satisfaction.

He commands me to rise and bend over the table beside him. I obey, and with ruthless dedication, he yanks off my trousers, letting them hang around my ankles. I hear him shuffle behind me, spitting on his hand and running his cold, slick fingers over my entrance. He slides them inside with ease, making me let out a choked moan.

"Quiet." He orders angrily. I bite my lip to silence myself as he continues his assault with his fingers, but he moves them with such skill that it makes it nearly impossible to remain quiet. The tips of his fingers hit the spot repeatedly with ease, his other hand wrapping around my mouth to ensure as little noise as possible to escape my lips.

I got so close, so close I could almost taste the ecstasy on the tip of my tongue. But my worst nightmare came true when I heard yet another knock on the door. "Papa! It's time, we gotta go!" A Ghoul calls out. Primo sighs, seeming almost as disappointed as me, and pulls out his fingers, obscenely licking them clean.

"Fix yourself and join us on stage, Ghoul." He says coldly, putting on his mitre and heading towards the door. "Papa..." I whine, earning me a light slap. "What did I say, stupido cucciolo? No complaints..." He grufs, annoyed. I frown frustratedly and nod, pulling up my pants and grabbing my mask in shame.

While we move to the stage, none of the audience or my fellow Ghouls are aware of the dried cum covering my face underneath the mask. But as Primo shoots me a wink before he starts to sing, and the other Ghouls exchange confused glances, my throat runs dry in worry that maybe they all suspect what just occurred. And honestly? That just makes me hornier.

-

[luciferscowgirl]

— “Never to Return” —

60 chapter smutty slow burn

-

Catholic virgin x Cardinal Copia

Hello guys!

I can finally say that I have successfully finished writing my 200.000 words slow burn “Never to Return”, where a young Woman of God escapes the restraints of her Catholic upbringing with the help of our beloved Cardinal Copia. Throughout the story, unexpected things happen, and we will learn more about the characters’ pasts. Things turn sinful…, in every way.

Read it here (AO3) or click the link in the title. It is 18+, so MDNI, please!

Thank you all! 💓

[bupia]

XXXMAS AT THE MINISTRY

As a Christmas gift, me and my writer's friends are going to do a collaboration next week with Christmas smuts with Papas!

Four different stories will be available here on Tumblr and AO3!

@copias-sewer-rat: Primo, December 20th (Wednesday) — Naughty Presents (ao3 profile)

@molly-ghuleh: Secondo, December 21st (Thursday) — Ungrumpify your Papa (ao3 profile)

@ghulehunknown: Terzo, December 22nd (Friday) — Mistletoe'd (ao3 profile)

@bupia: Copia, December 23rd (Saturday) — Treasure hunt (ao3 profile)

Please stay tuned for the first story coming out next week on Wednesday !

Are you excited to join us on this unholiday?

[copias-girl]

my writing <3

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

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

ask to be on my non-con taglist here!

•°:*𖤐*:°•

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

Cardinal in the Snow 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

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

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

To Catch a Cardinal Universe bonus fics:

The Sign

Tipsy reader flirting with Copia

𖤐 TCAC moodboard

Lenten Sacrifice (smut) 𖤐 Antichrist Popia x Catholic reader

Colazione, Un Film, e Dormita 𖤐 Copia x reader

Aftercare headcanons (nsfw) 𖤐 All the Papas x reader

Praising Copia headcanons (nsfw) 𖤐 Cardinal Copia x reader

Cardiophilia Blurb 𖤐 Copia x reader

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

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

𖤐 my art 𖤐

Cardinal Copia

Valentine’s Day Papa

TCAC Copia Doodle

[writingjourney]

Friday Nights at the Cinema Club | Vampire!Primo x gn!Reader

Summary: The handsome old gentleman who attends the late night showings is certainly the best part about your small town weekend job. But as the gentle attraction between you slowly begins to bloom, you realise that there’s more to him than meets the eye – and promptly find yourself chased into the woods by an unexpected monster.

Content: 14k words, vampire!primo, gn!reader, horror, violence, being hunted, harassment, men being assholes, smut (18+ MDNI, biting, blood kink/blood drinking, oral sex r!receiving, penetration, coming inside, unprotected sex)

This was originally intended to fill the “hunted” prompt for the @petrifyingpapas challenge. I am a little late but I hope you enjoy it anyway and give Primo his chance to shine! ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link – Part 2 | Secondo's story

“This life of earth, whatever my attire, Would pain me in its wonted fashion. Too old am I to play with passion; Too young, to be without desire.”

― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: Part 1

Now

He’s been following you for weeks.

Primo just can’t stop himself, no matter how many times he tells himself that he’s overstepping. As he watches the hurried pace you set, carrying you home in the early hours of a cool spring morning, he smells your distress like an overly strong perfume. Jacket tightly wrapped around your tense shoulders, your steps quicken whenever you leave the safe light of a streetlamp. You’re always nervous walking home alone, even more so since the incident at work. 

This is the very thought that calms his conscience – his concern is rightful, necessary even. He has to protect you because you have no one else who will. Not that you cannot protect yourself, he knows you can, you hold your own quite nicely, but why take any unnecessary risks? Four eyes see more than two, especially if two of those have preternatural vision.

Suddenly you stop, glancing around with searching eyes. “Hello?”

Primo stops as well. It’s impossible that you heard him, he didn’t make any sounds that a human ear could process. Your eyes dart in a different direction and he’s on alert immediately. A few rapid beats of your heart pass. You seem to decide that you’re alright because you continue on your journey even if your legs move that extra bit quicker, walking as fast as possible without actually running.

No, Primo knows you don’t need him. You never ask him to walk you home and when he offers, you politely decline every single time. You don’t need him. You don’t need him how he needs you, and yet it feels good to imagine that you do. That anyone does. The thought he will not entertain, however, is that his motive is a selfish one. He’s been lonely for so long that he pours all that he has into this… whatever this is. And why should he not? In all the centuries that passed since he was cast upon this earth you’re the most wonderful thing he ever had the pleasure to behold and his time with you is so tragically limited, no matter what happens. 

“Fuck,” he hears you mutter then, effectively distracting him. Again, you stop very suddenly, glancing vaguely into the direction he’s hiding in but without any real focus. “Who the fuck is there?”

Primo doesn’t sense anyone else. Possibly, you just heard a strange noise which wouldn’t be the first time since the incident. You’ve been on edge ever since and understandably so. Of course you don’t know that there is no danger of the same thing ever repeating. Which doesn’t mean you’re safe from other perils. Primo dares to stalk closer, foolishly so, because he’s too close now and you must have spotted his movements in the dark because you start to run like your life depended on it.

To his utter terror, you don’t follow your usual route home but take the shortcut through the woods. With breakneck speed, you run along the mud path that meanders through thick pine trees and mossy hills. Primo has no issue keeping up with you of course but he worries about protruding roots and sharp stones you may not see with your human eyes. 

His fear is misdirected. He’s so distracted, watching your every step, that he doesn’t notice the odd smell at first, the second strong, comparatively slow heartbeat amongst all the quiet and rapid ones of the forest animals. But this is no rabbit, no deer, no boar. When he finally notices the presence of the strange entity, the spike of panic is clouding every other rational thought.

He is after you – and he’s fast.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Four weeks ago

The man has been attending the late night showings for weeks now, every Friday and Saturday. Every week, he shows up exactly fifteen minutes before the screening starts, even though there are practically no waiting times in the small club cinema you’re working at. His attire was what drew your attention to him that first night, even before you’d seen his face, and his choice of clothing seems deliberate. Most evenings, he wears simple black slacks over expensive-looking Italian leather brogues. Tonight, he combined them with a loose white shirt with frills and an open collar that peeks out of a burgundy tailcoat with black lapels and gold embroideries. It looks old-fashioned but not out of place in the similarly dated establishment.

As he approaches you behind the counter, you’re struck yet again, despite being familiar with his almost ethereal looks by now. He must be close to eighty but his deep wrinkles only add to his effortless beauty. His most notable feature, however, is the skull paint adorning his stern face with two uncanny, mismatched eyes – one iris in green and one impossibly white. With his face framed by long blond hair spilling over his shoulders, silky and curled at the ends, he looks like a man who knows exactly how to present himself. An air of easy sophistication surrounds him as he takes deliberate steps in your direction. You’re not surprised that he shows up on weekends when your boss screens his beloved classics. At least that’s what he calls any movie that came out before the year 2000.

“So, Dracula today, yes?” It’s not a question as much as a statement, dripping with distaste. “And the 1992 one at that.”

“Do you not enjoy vampires, sir?” you ask, taking the money for his ticket. Every single bill looks pristine, like it’s been freshly printed, and again, he won’t accept the change you hold out to him, waving off with a gentle smile. Buy yourself a drink on my behalf, tesoro, he’d said once, and you aren’t questioning him anymore, you just pocket the money since there is no one you could split it with.

He regards you with interest. “I enjoy them, sì, though I never found their portrayal in cinema quite believable.”

You chuckle. “Well, perhaps that is because they’re not real.”

“Perhaps, yes,” he says unfazed. “Or perhaps it is the clichés, no?”

“I really like the movie,” you admit. “Though I wish she would just get with the vampire. I certainly wouldn’t hesitate.”

He cocks a curious eyebrow. “Davvero?”

His thick Italian accent makes you blush on any given day, even more so when he speaks plain Italian. There is something about the timbre of his voice that changes, like gold melting in the heat of a forge, the syllables fused together with a flick of his tongue.

“Mhm,” is all you can answer.

“Will you watch it as well, little flower?” he asks and you smile at the nickname he chose for you weeks ago when he caught you arranging a bouquet in the foyer.

“Oh, no, I’m not allowed to leave the register unattended. Or… well, watch movies while I’m supposed to work.”

“I see.” He smiles again, the black lines over his lips shifting so that he looks almost gentle, the severity of the paint watered down by the kindness in his eyes. “That is a pity.”

Is he flirting with you? You can’t tell. Surely, he is just being nice, a polite older gentleman. Would you want him to be flirting with you, though? No, of course not. You couldn’t even flirt back. Your boss might fire you if he found out that you even so much as looked at him the wrong way.

“Can I offer you a snack or a drink, sir?” you ask, remembering your actual job.

“You know, I will take a whisky today,” he says. “If you have it.”

“Of course we do, sir, you can choose your seat and I will serve it in a second.”

The stranger heads off towards the screening room with its soft, polished leather armchairs and moody lighting, jazz tunes wafting from the speakers. You look after him, his long hair gently swaying with every step, and the door to the backroom springs open. It’s your boss, Max, a man in his mid-forties, so unremarkable with his shaggy black hair and his blatant misogyny that he could be any man you ever met. Only that he practically owns you by way of paying for your every bill while you finish your degree. Jobs in small towns are hard to come by, decent men even harder.

“Go serve our customer, come on,” he urges. “I heard him ask for something”

“The register…”

“I take it. Move your pretty ass over, perhaps wiggle a bit when you do, the old pervert is going to love it.” 

You make to leave without wiggling, heading towards the small serving station in the hallway. “Oh, hey,” Max calls after you. “I need you to clean up tonight. Cleaning lady called in sick. Feeling faint or whatever, broke down in the supermarket if you can believe it. They say she’s anemic, that’s their excuse for everything women have these days.”

“Okay,” you reply, hoping he chokes on his tongue one of these days. “Of course, Max. I’ll clean up. No problem.”

“Be a good little thing, don’t forget to check under the seats, always tons of junk down there after the evening showings.”

You nod and try not to run into the screening room and away from him. By now, all anger towards him has been numbed by the sheer amount of obnoxious remarks but you’re never sure if he’s above trying to actually touch you one day. So far, he’s all bark and no bite, but with men like him you never know. Being the only employee who works the night shifts doesn’t help but there is just not enough demand to bring in the others.

You find the stranger in one of the top rows, comfortably seated in what is your favourite spot as well. A smile creeps onto your face. “Here is your whiskey, sir.”

The man peers up at you in what looks like ingenuine surprise, his white eye showing a glimmer of sympathy. He must have heard you and Max but is clearly trying not to show it. You wonder how – you can’t even hear Max outside right now over the jazz music. 

“Grazie mille,” he says as he takes the glass from you.

“Of course, sir. Enjoy your movie.”

“Thank you, fiore.” He smiles, always such a kind smile. “You are a wonderful host.”

You can’t help but smile back, looking at him for just a little longer than is appropriate. But Max must have started the film because the lights dim suddenly until it’s fully dark and you hurry back outside right as the title music starts playing.

Your stranger is the only guest tonight.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now 

You run. You run so fast that your lungs are burning in the cold night air. There is no palpable explanation for why you feel so panicked. For most of your way home you’ve felt almost paranoid in your constant fear of being followed. You felt like someone was watching you right from the start but when you came close to the woods your instincts just told you to run. By now, your legs carry you almost automatically despite the fatigue in your limbs. There is a tiny voice in your head that tells you you’re in danger. Big danger.

Halfway through the forest, the track gets steeper. Less feet have trampled it flat as the usual walking path ends and you struggle to keep up your pace. Unsettling noises grow louder to your right – panting, hurried steps, moans and whimpers. Two seconds later you suddenly hear an echoing growl that puts any wolf to shame. Your head whips around but before you can make out anything in the pitch dark your foot gets caught on a root. The impact is suffocating. Your lungs empty out and you think you’re choking on nothing. Only after a long moment in which you struggle for breath do you feel the sharp pain in your arm where it hit a rock, warm blood seeping into your sleeve until its wet and sticky.

Meanwhile, the steps hurry closer and even in the full moon light it’s hard to tell where you are right now. But then you see the trees swaying at the edge of the path and all you know is that you need to keep going. Everything hurts but you manage to get to your feet. As the world sways around you, you leave the safety of the trail in favour of the cover of the trees, their canopy shielding you from the moonlight and hopefully any following eyes.

But of course the creature chasing you doesn’t rely on their vision to find you. Before you walk another mile you can hear rapid footsteps and panting breaths behind you. Too scared to look around and risk another fall, you just run and jump and run even faster. The woods grow thicker, harder to navigate. You try to fish for your phone but when you finally pull it out, it slips from your grasp. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you mutter but you keep running. You can’t stop. 

A familiar boulder appears somewhere in your peripheral vision and you wonder if you’re running in circles. You’re so lost. Even if the creature doesn’t get you, you’re doomed. But the thought is distant as a branch strikes you in the face like a whip. You run but more fallen branches block your path and as you try to jump, you get caught. 

A shriek tears from your throat, so loud and drawn-out that your voice gives out before it ends. The steps are so close now that you know you’re going to get caught any second now. Cowering, trying to get as small as possible, you slowly shift around, ready to beg for mercy. An enormous shadow sprints towards you and suddenly, a bright streak of moonlight falls through the trees. You cry out again as your eyes take in the sight: Spit-coated fangs, claws, thick rough fur on what you can only describe as a giant made of muscles and the horrors of the night. Its facial features look familiar, shaggy hair falling into its cruel eyes. Whatever it is has no merciful bone in its body, that much you can tell. This is your death, you realise. This is it. 

But before you feel the fangs sink into your skin or the claws tear you open, the monster loses balance. All you can see is a vague human-like figure pushing it aside into the shadows with a strength that is impossible to comprehend, two tall silhouettes wrestling for a moment before the huge hairy creature lets out a bone-chilling scream. The giant body slumps in on itself, lifeless, silent. You breathe in gasps, swallowing air that does nothing to calm you down. You fall over, sobbing silently in short-lived relief.

The monster is dead. But you’re not alone.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Three weeks ago

“So, are you a big movie fan?” the stranger had asked you today when you served him his whiskey. He always orders something now, almost like knowing you serve him permanently changed his ’no thank you’-attitude. Whenever you bring him his order he asks you questions and you end up chatting with him for longer than you should.

“Oh, I like them, yes, but the reason I work here, if that’s why you’re asking, is that it’s one of the few jobs I can do on weekends that pays extra for night shifts.”

“So do you have a day job as well?” he asks, taking his first sip. He’s wearing all black today, black leather gloves, a black shirt and black tailcoat. The only pop of colour is a red rose that he has tugged into a buttonhole of his open jacket.

“Finishing off my degree,” you explain. “I don’t think I’ll work here after that.”

His brow furrows in surprise. “No?”

You chuckle. “No, it doesn’t pay that well. It doesn’t pay well at all, actually.”

“I see.” He turns the tumbler in his hand, the amber liquid twirling inside. “I have to say I am glad. I do not think he treats you well.”

You glance towards the door but Max seems to be busy behind the counter still. “He’s… okay.”

The stranger huffs out a laugh. “No, è un stronzo.”

The smirk that tugs at your lips is hard to shake off, especially with the way he rolls the R in the word. “Yeah, he is. But I have to pay rent and get groceries, so...”

“I understand.” Another sip, slow, barely coating his lips. “Fiore, I do wonder… what is it that you truly burn for? What would you do if no restrictive invention like money mattered?”

You take a deep breath and then you start to tell him about your real interests, your passions. He listens with the avid attention of someone who genuinely cares, who doesn’t just ask out of mere politeness. It’s addicting, the way his intense eyes are glued to your lips, how his whole body is angled into your direction. You get so lost in his gaze, in your explanation, that you forget yourself for a moment.

“Eh!” Max suddenly calls out from the doorway and you jump at the sound of his voice. “Come over for a second, will you?”

You reluctantly leave the stranger in his armchair with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. Enjoy your movie, sir.”

“I will,” he says. “Thank you, fiorellino.”

Max watches you with a scowl, roughly pulling you aside as soon as you’re within reach. “Do I pay you for chitchat?”

“No, Max, I’m sorry. I just…”

“You just what?” he snaps, clenching his jaw. “Flirting with the old men won’t get you higher tips, it only screams pathetic whore. You think he can still get it up?”

You stay silent, waiting for him to calm down enough to notice the impropriety of his words and actions. The urge to kick him is so hard to fight that you have to actively push your feet harder into the ground. Your fists ache with how hard you’re clenching them.

Eventually he simmers down, smoothing out his shirt as he clears his throat. “Anyway, you need to clean up again today. The cleaner still hasn’t shown up.”

“What happened?” you ask.

He shrugs but it’s an ingenuine, uncaring gesture. “Apparently she ran away or something. She’s been missing for a while.”

Missing? Wasn’t she anemic? Before you can ask any more questions he leaves you standing right there to start the movie. You head back to the register even though you know no other guests are going to be coming in tonight. For the whole duration of the movie, all you do is wait, scrolling on your phone from where you’re hiding it underneath the desk. No local news site is able to tell you anything about the missing cleaner other than the fact that she just left over night exactly a week ago and hasn’t been found ever since.

“Oh, did we miss the movie?”

You look up to see two men strolling into the lobby. They sway slightly, probably drunk, and smoke despite the big no-smoking sign at the entrance that’s impossible to miss. They look familiar in how unremarkable they appear, one is blond, the other one dark-haired, jeans and crumpled t-shirts betraying their status even though they move with the confident audacity only mediocre white men have.

“Yes, I’m sorry. The movie is almost over,” you say. “By the way, you’re not allowed to smoke in here, sir.”

“Are you off soon, then, sweetheart?” the blond one asks, taking another drag of his cigarette

“No, I have to clean up.”

“Ah, cleaning up… whatever, can’t be that dirty in there, huh?” He grins. “Unless… we make it dirty.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, a feisty one!” the dark-haired man says. “That’s how you treat your customers?”

“You haven’t bought anything.”

They whistle almost in unison, though their tunes are slightly off-key. This is not the first time this happens, it’s not even the first time these exact men show up here and try to harass you.

“Come on, maybe you can show us where you keep the liquor?” the blond man asks. “Have a drink with us?”

“I don’t think so, sir. If you don’t want to buy anything, I have to ask you to leave.” You try to stay polite, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Please.”

He chuckles, tries to round the counter to touch you but there is a sudden shift in atmosphere. It’s almost like all of the warmth is sucked from the room, like the charged air of a thunderstorm is crackling inside its walls. The men seem to feel it too because they suddenly stop in their movements, giving each other nervous glances.

“You were asked to leave, signori, no?”

You look up to find your stranger entering the lobby. The movie must have ended because the lights are on again and he looks so menacing that even you feel a chill running down your spine. His white eye glimmers dangerously, the other one shimmering almost red now but it could be a trick of lighting. They’re narrowed, the skull paint and severity of his features giving him the air of a predator. When the blond man takes another step into your direction, out of spite or stupidity you’re not quite sure, the stranger is on him in a second. You’re surprised by how agile he appears in his age, wondering briefly if he just looks older than he is or if you’re just prejudiced. But the man backs away immediately, joining his buddy by the door. A second later Max enters as well from the backroom, looking mildly irritated but unbothered by the weird atmosphere as he slams the door shut.

“Any issues here?” he asks, taking in the two loiterers. 

The men slowly backtrack, holding up their arms in pretend innocence. While the dark-haired one slips out the door, the blond man lingers. “No issue, no. Just had a question about your schedule.”

Max gives a dismissive wave of his hand and when the man is finally gone, he turns to you. “Were you rude to our customers?”

“They weren’t customers,” you say defensively, angry that he’d even assume something like that. “They were drunks.”

“Hmpf.” He gives the stranger another glance, still unimpressed, then grabs his bag from under the counter. “I’m off now. See you tomorrow. And hey, don’t forget to clean and lock up.”

“Yeah, see you,” you say, trying to swallow the lump of anger in your throat.

As soon as Max is gone, the stranger’s whole demeanour changes. His expression softens and he reaches out, his hand hovering right by your arm. 

“You are alright, little flower?” he asks.

You nod but it’s hard to fight off the tears. Situations like that make you feel helpless and you hate it. Being at the mercy of these men is frustrating, especially with a boss who just lets it slide instead of protecting his employees. You could have handled the situation, you tell yourself, you’ve had to handle so many similar ones before, but it just feels so incredibly good that someone cares.

“I think so,” you finally choke out. “I just… This is not uncommon and I’m so fed up.”

“I understand,” he says. “Did these men bother you before?”

“Yeah, but other people as well. Even Max treats me like a piece of meat just because I’m young.”

There is a hidden anger in his face, a barely noticeable clench of his jaw, his brow slightly pulled together. You’re not scared anymore, though. The menacing energy he exudes is directed at something else, not you, and you can’t bring yourself to wonder how he manages to command a room like that.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asks.

You nod and he reaches out, running a gloved hand up and down your arm in silent comfort. You take a step closer and he lifts his other hand as well, gently cradling your cheek. When a fat tear of anger falls from your eye he catches it, telling you it’s okay if you need to let it out. But you don’t cry, you don’t want to feel weak or fall into his arms like a sobbing child. Nevertheless, his comfort feels like a gentle hug, calming you so easily.

For a moment, he lets you breathe in the same air, a leather-clad thumb swiping over your cheekbone with a calming steadiness. You smile at him and he smiles back, so softly that not even the skull paint can hide the gentleness of his features.

“I have to clean up now,” you say. “Thank you for being here.”

He simply nods, slowly pulling away from you. Only when he’s gone and you smell a faint flowery scent do you notice that he’s tugged the rose from his jacket into your hair. You press it to your chest, right above your fluttering heart, and pray that he never stops coming back.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Their blood tastes like shit. 

Not literally but it’s by far the worst he’s had in a while, certainly worse than that of the cleaning lady he’s been feeding on last month. Admittedly, he did not consider that losing her would prompt your boss to just make you work longer. At the time she was just an easy victim on his way home, sweet young blood that was easy to obtain, the blue veins shining through her pale skin like they were begging to be used. But as he cleans his jaw with a handkerchief, Primo thinks that perhaps he can linger after the movies now. Any more time with you, however long, is of immeasurable value to him.

A groan. Primo looks down at the man, the blond stronzo who tried to touch you. He feels no sympathy, no reluctance. Full moon rolls around in three weeks and if they happen to die before then… well, bad luck for his partner. Though he can’t say he’s very tempted to drink from them again with all the junk in their blood – cheap alcohol, so much nicotine and other poisons. Perhaps he should just end it now, they’re at his mercy in any case. But no, they deserve to be punished for what they did and he knows bleeding out is not a very painful death.

Primo is not a cruel man, he likes to think. The nature of his being prompts him to act cruelly sometimes for self-preservation but unlike some of his fellows he finds no enjoyment in the kill. Not anymore, not after his initial lust for blood was quenched centuries ago. Nevertheless, he has to admit that his obsession with you is testing those limits in ways he’s never felt before. For you, he thinks, he could turn into a killer.

A gurgle. The second man is starting to wake up and Primo decides to leave. He placed the wounds in unobtrusive spots, never using both fangs to puncture their skin, too obvious. They’re going to think they’re hungover and move on but he’s going to find them again, slowly drain them until the next full moon is here and they’ll find their demise in a different way.

Primo is not a killer, no, but he chooses the killer’s victims.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

You’re frozen in your spot amongst the thicket, branches and rocks digging into your body, the throbbing pain in your arm slowly spreading out. The sight before you is absurd. A giant dead body, a monster, a… a werewolf? You can’t bring yourself to properly think the word and yet you know that’s what it is. Not that it matters anymore. The smell of death mixes in with the earthy scent of the woods and spreads out in the air around you. The second figure hovers above the body for as long as it takes you to gather your thoughts. Why, you cannot tell. Are they shocked by their actions? Making sure the creature is really dead? There seems to be a hesitation in their every movement as they slowly back away and move into your direction, their frame blurring with the surrounding darkness.

“Stand back,” you yell. “Don’t come closer!”

Your voice is high-pitched, unrecognisable in its trembling state, hoarse from screaming into the emptiness around you. Your fear has your senses heightened and every snap of a twig, every howl of the wind makes you flinch. The being before you now is smaller than the one before, human-shaped if your eyes don’t betray you. The canopy is so thick here, the trees surrounding you so close to one another that you struggle to see anything. And yet you can feel them moving.

“Stop,” you yell again. “Fucking stop!”

A sudden sliver of light catches their face and you can see two glowing eyes, the one that you know as a deep green shimmering red like it did in the lobby of the theatre the night the two men harassed you and the other one is still as white as bone. “It’s okay, fiore mio. You’re safe now,” he says and you immediately recognize the Italian accent, the nickname. “I’m here to help you.” 

You slump in on yourself, not quite relieved but still a little calmer.

It’s him. It’s your stranger.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Two weeks ago

“It’s nothing personal,” Max says. “But I’m losing money here.”

You nod like you understand. You do understand, just not why it has to be now of all times, so close to when you would have been done anyway. A few more months.

“Just not enough people coming in,” he continues. “And the old guy doesn’t pay that much no matter how often you flirt him up.”

Again, all you can do is nod. Your boss wants to cancel the night showings and lay you off. Supposedly, no other shifts are in need of any more people and he can’t keep you on. It’s a cheap excuse, you know it is.

“So, I’m off then,” he says. “You can manage on your own one last time, right?”

You nod at him once again, watching him whistling a merry tune and twirling his keys on a finger on his way out. The tears come only after you hear his car driving off. You have no idea how to find another weekend job for the next few months and the sheer surprise of his decision has your stomach in knots. If he’d at least given you some time to prepare…

“Buonasera, fiore. Can I… uhm…” You look up into the stranger’s eyes, trying to wipe at your tears but it’s too late, his expression has already changed into what you can only assume is pity. “Scusi, is this a bad time? Can I help you, perhaps?”

“I’m so sorry… I just… Ugh, Max wants to cancel the late night screenings,” you explain, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I guess this is our last night here.”

“Cancel?”

You sniffle, your voice scratchy when you speak next. “Well, as you may have noticed, you’re kind of our only guest.”

The stranger takes your hand, soft leather pulling you from the desk and towards one of the run-down couches in the waiting area. He’s so gentle when he beckons you to his side, never letting go of your hand.

“He wants to fire you, sì?” 

You nod, staring at your intertwined hands against the velvet upholstering of the couch. His thumb draws lazy circles into your skin, his hand so big it almost swallows yours. You want him to swallow you as well, his whole body wrapped around yours, engulfing you with his safety – but you’re not sure that you could ask him for a hug.

“I’m sorry, it’s really not your problem. I mean, you’ll lose your weekend activities but I’m sure you can just get Netflix or something.”

“Netflix?”

You look up with a smile. “Or… I don’t know, buy a DVD.”

The stranger smiles back, squeezing your hand just a little bit tighter. “Now, my little flower, do you really think I am just here for the movies?”

When your eyes meet it’s like you’re sucked into a vacuum. You don’t know whether to focus on his white iris or the burning need that’s visible in his green eye. The decision is taken from you when he leans in and captures your mouth in a kiss. You reciprocate without hesitation and yet he’s holding back, a suppressed moan bubbling in his throat, despite the tenderness of his lips. It’s not enough, not nearly enough. You press against him, opening your lips for him, and then the moan finally spills out as his tongue vibrates against yours. His free hand pushes into your hair and settles at the back of your head, angling your face in whichever way he wants to taste you. His lips feel surprisingly cold just like his cheek as you bring a hand up to touch him. The makeup smears under your fingers, at your jaw, mingling with your spit.

And yet it’s not enough, not until you’re half in his lap, until his hands roam your body with reverent desperation, searching, exploring. The kiss never loses momentum. He sucks in a breath and you push your tongue into his mouth, running it along his upper lip until you can feel his teeth. You frown into the kiss when you feel something pointy, pulling your tongue back, but there is no time to think before he sucks at your bottom lip. A sharp sting as he punctures your flesh with his teeth. He moans as the taste of your blood settles between your joined lips, sucking whatever he can into his mouth. You allow him to drink you in, offering yourself up in a way you haven’t done with anyone else before.

There is a moment in which you think, hope, that it never ends. But then he pulls away and you gasp for air. You stare at him, traces of red blood fuzing into the grey smears around his mouth. He’s a mess, equal to how you feel, but his eyes are focused, his gaze sharp.

“Do you want to see the movie?” you ask, hoping he’ll say no, hoping he’ll just take you away.

But he just chuckles, his hands slowly disappearing from your body until you slump into the soft cushions on the couch.

“Actually, I think I have to leave early tonight,” he says. “I will see you next week, fiore mio. Please, per favore, do not worry about your job, I will set things right.”

You want to ask what he means, if he’s going to talk to Max for you, but before you realise that he’s leaving, before you even finish blinking, he’s already gone. Furrowing your brow, you walk outside and enter a clear moonless night. Your flushed face soaks up the cool air and you look around, searching feverishly, but there is no sign of your stranger. You expect to see him along the sidewalk, perhaps he’s in one of the cars getting ready, but even after a few more minutes none of them roar to life. Nothing disrupts the soft silence of your sleeping small town and you shake your head in wonder as you make your way back inside, the metallic taste of your blood still lingering on your tongue.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Primo is livid, furious in a way that he hasn’t felt in close to a hundred years. You are not part of their deal and yet this feels like a violation of conduct. Making you cry should be a criminal offense and he wants him to pay for it, in what currency Primo is not sure yet. He knows he can’t let his anger win but when he smells the creature from two streets away, even in his human form, he’s ready to sink his teeth into his throat. And of course he finds him in a nearby bar, nursing a beer while he watches football videos on his phone without a care in the world.

“You won’t fire them,” Primo spits out.

Max looks up in pretend confusion. “Huh?”

“You heard me, stronzo.”

“Your little flower?” He pouts, mocking him, then huffs out a laugh. “It’s business, man.”

“The job is important,” Primo says calmly, trying not to get too riled up. “A few more months.”

“Cry me a river. Just do with them what you want, fuck them, suck them dry. Whatever gets your blood pumping, Count Dracula.” A sardonic smirk. “Oh oops, I forgot.”

Primo won’t be provoked, not from the likes of him. “You’ll give them time,” he says calmly. “Or I have to rethink this… agreement.”

Max sighs in annoyance. “Fine. A little longer. And don’t think I haven’t smelled you on those two assholes yet. I only get to feast once a month and I expect the vampire to have better taste, that’s why I agreed to this in the first place.”

“I do have taste,” Primo says. “And we both know that’s not the reason or why are you sitting here all alone, lupetto, eh?”

Max snarls but says nothing to this painful reminder. Primo doesn’t feel bad. Their agreement serves the sole purpose of attracting less attention and would not work if Max wasn’t an outcast. Their solitariness saves them and keeps their peace intact. For now.

Primo leaves with an aching heart, hoping the werewolf stays true to his word. He comes back to the cinema only to see that you got done in the meantime and left. It’s not like he actually planned to continue what you started earlier but he really wants to catch another glimpse of you, see how you’re feeling after what happened.

He finds you two streets away, hurrying home even faster than usual. You’re scared, he can tell immediately as he hears your rapid heartbeat, the blood rushing through your body like a raging river. Since the two men tried to corner you you’ve been especially on edge. He knows it’s because you expect them to try again and he wishes he could tell you that they won’t, that he’s watching over you, that he’s been slowly draining them ever since despite the awful taste of their blood. He can handle it, he can handle anything if it’s for you. 

Only for you. 

Primo relaxes after he sees you closing the door to your apartment and your heartbeat slows down. That’s when he leaves – always. He’s promised himself that he never lingers, that he doesn’t stalk or overstep, only makes sure you get home safely after your shifts. Tonight, it’s harder to leave. He can still taste you on his tongue and what a taste it is. Never before has he savoured blood quite so sweet, quite so rich in aroma, and the violent hunger inside of him tries to keep him by your house for more. 

But the kiss was a mistake to begin with and he’s not sure yet how to proceed because he never expected you to respond quite so enthusiastically to his advances. Of course he could immediately tell that you wanted him, the smell and taste of your excitement so overpowering that it cut off any reasonable thought while it happened. He hasn’t lost control of himself like that in over two hundred years and now he set things in motion that may cost him this precious connection that he has with you if he’s not careful.

For now, however, he allows himself this small pleasure and lets the happy, giddy feeling settle in his hollow chest. If he wasn’t aware that he was a few centuries old he would promptly assume that he’s a lovestruck teenager. And he could get used to it, he realises, because with you he’s quite ready to start this empty life all over again and fill it with everything that he’s been missing.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

“You’re a vampire,” you state, twigs and stones digging into your butt but you feel to weak to stand up.

The stranger approaches you slowly like you’re a wild animal he’s trying to tame, the roles reversed now in your agitation and his calmness. “I am, sì.”

The urge to back away, to run for your life, continues to simmer in your belly but you fight it because you know there is no escape now. You want to trust him but you feel like you’re in a fever dream. It has to be a hallucination, maybe you were drugged at work today, maybe you inhaled the fume of some rare mushroom when you fell.

Your eyes meet the dead creature again. “Is he-”

“Yes, Max is dead.”

“Max?” Your shrill voice betrays your shock. “My boss?”

“Yes.” He sounds oddly calm, not like he just killed a werewolf. “Please, allow me to take you home with me.”

“Home? Your home?”

“Yes, my little flower. I want to look at your scrapes and cuts. Allow me, please.”

You hesitate, even as you see the shape of his outstretched hand, the same black leather gloves now ripped and torn, revealing slivers of his pale skin.

“I understand you don’t… trust me,” he says. “But I promise, I will explain everything to you in as much detail as you want and then you can decide for yourself. I just want to make sure you are okay first.”

You swallow, your throat still painfully sore from screaming. “Are you going to… I don’t know, drink from me? Eat me?”

“I will not eat you. And I will not drink from you either,” he says. “All I want is to look after you.”

You suck in a deep breath, ready to collapse on the forest floor. He could lure you into a trap, he could have been plotting this for weeks now, and yet you still feel the butterflies in your belly stirring at the sound of his voice, your body aching to be with his, even now in its weak state. Reluctantly, you place your mud-smeared hand in his and when he lifts you up with ease, his arms wrap around you tightly. You have no strength to lift your arms but you let him hug you anyway, slumping against his frame.

And perhaps you’ve lost your mind. Perhaps you should use the opportunity to kick him, to fight, but instead you start to sob into his shoulder. The world you thought you knew comes crashing down around you and he holds you through it, whispering that it’s going to be alright.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

One week ago

You can’t stop thinking about him.

The week passes slowly but you do get a text message from Max telling you he’s extending your employment for as long as it takes you to find a new job. You have no idea how your stranger convinced him but you never wanted to get back to work so urgently before – to thank him, to ask if there is a chance that you could see him outside of this place. 

Any thought you can spare is spent thinking back to your kiss, extending it in your mind for hours and hours, exploring the fantasy alone in your bed at night with your hand between your legs. You ignore any of the worries that this intimate moment conjured up. So what if the stranger has a bit of a blood kink and conveniently sharp teeth? You certainly don’t mind doing it again. He can bite you wherever he wants, you realise, and you’d gladly let him suck on the wound.

He’s back Friday night and you can’t help but feel relieved that he’s not ghosting you after his sudden disappearance last week. Maybe it’s because of your intense crush on him but you swear he looks more beautiful tonight than ever before. His long blond hair is shiny and smooth as it falls into his face, the paint more pristine than usual. He’s wearing his usual black slacks but today he paired it with a deep red shirt under a black tailcoat with a red pattern of embroidered roses. His tall, slender frame leans against the counter as he regards you with a smile.

“So, what am I watching tonight?” he asks.

“Hitchcock,” you say. “The Birds. Max is a big fan.”

“Hm, I haven’t watched that one since it premiered,” he says and then he removes his gloves. You watch as he slides his now bare hand over the counter until it touches yours. 

“Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t born yet back then.”

“No, fiore.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand. His skin is cold and pale and wrinkly, the lines and bumps revealing a map of his life that you can’t wait to explore. His long fingers slide under yours, surprisingly sharp black nails raking over your palm until he holds you comfortably. They look almost manicured, his hand dwarfing yours as he closes it. “You’re such a young thing and yet our souls have found such a deep connection, no?”

You gaze into his mismatched eyes, a fondness in them that makes your heart beat faster. As if he can feel it, the corners of his painted mouth curl upwards into a smirk until you can see the crow’s feet under his eyes deepen despite the dark paint. 

“Yes,” you finally say. “Actually, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to–”

You’re interrupted by the door to the backroom opening. You jump, pulling your hand from his as you see Max casting you a curious glance. He’s been in a bad mood all evening so you’re not taking any risks tonight.

You cough. “Ugh, here’s your ticket, sir. Enjoy the movie.”

The stranger doesn’t seem offended by your reaction. Instead he smiles at you, accepting the ticket from your shaky hand. “Grazie, fiore. I will let you know if I enjoyed it.”

As he leaves for the screening room he doesn’t even look at Max. You remain frozen behind the counter, watching his elegant form with a rapidly beating heart. Mindlessly clenching the hand he just held in his, you desperately hope you get to ask your question later.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

The werewolf won’t leave earlier tonight. As he lets the movie run in the background, only vaguely paying attention, Primo listens for any signs. It looks like he has to sit it out today, though, even as his patience slowly wears thin. One more week until full moon, so Max must be getting antsy, and Primo made sure to keep the prey alive despite his protests in the bar. Every time he feeds from them, he is tempted to bite into an artery instead of a vein, watch them bleed out, not even drinking their blood. But having Max go hungry will piss him off and since he is already aware of you, Primo can’t risk not providing him with any easier targets.

After the movie concludes, Primo lingers but he doesn’t spot you in the foyer. When Max finally heads out he sees no reason not to look for you and conveniently, the only place you could be at is especially private.

The backroom houses a tiny kitchenette and two desks for computers with displays that are already black. You’re standing in front of the open door of a supply closet to gather your cleaning materials when he approaches soundlessly.

“Don’t be scared,” he says from a safe distance. “It is just me, fiore.”

You spin around, your beautiful face lighting up at the sight of him. “Oh, hello.”

“I owe you the money for the ticket,” he says. “You never gave me a chance to pay.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry… It’s not… I’m not embarrassed or anything, it’s just that Max…”

“Oh, it is quite alright, fiore mio, I know.”

A grateful smile. You don’t flinch when he steps in front of you, taking your hand in his to press a soft kiss to your palm. How lovely you are, Primo thinks, a pure, honest sort of beauty that he doesn’t deserve but wants with every fibre of his ancient being. He could show you a whole new world of pleasure and he knows it’s always the quiet ones who are so proficient in the art of sin. 

“I was hoping I would have some more time with you,” you say and he perks up.

“Were you?”

“The kiss…” A hint of red dusting your cheeks as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “I really enjoyed it.”

Primo can’t help but smile. “Me too, my little flower. Perhaps we should try it again?”

He can hear your heartbeat quickening at his words, can feel your skin heating up with the rush of your blood. Even now he is surprised by the evidence of your returned affections, struck by how perfect you are for him, your trust just another sign of hope that you can find it in you to love him back if he allows you to.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he says and then he effortlessly pulls you into his arms. To his surprise, you kiss him first, standing on your tiptoes and melting into his body. Your mouth is insistent, soft and sweet and so eager for him. Primo’s hands explore the shape of your body, memorising your curves for eternity. Impatient now, he pulls you over to the kitchenette that consists of nothing but a mirror over a sink with a few cupboards housing a coffee machine and snacks. There is enough space for what he’s planning to do, though, and he grabs you tightly before he removes his tongue from your mouth.

He can’t see his own image in the old silvered mirror as he hoists you up but he can see the dips of his fingers in your ass as it hits the counter. You hold onto his shoulders as he kisses down your jaw and chin. He skips your neck, skips the temptation, and drags his mouth down your chest instead, ripping the button of your shirt open as he goes. No complaint leaves your lips, only soft gasps and tiny whimpers. Primo pauses to pull at his gloves and then at your pants and then at your underwear, impatient, urgent, until he can finally feel your hot skin burning against his fingertips. Goosebumps form where his cold hands touch you and you shiver against his palms.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please.”

He knows what you’re begging for and under different circumstances he might make you beg  until your voice gives out but with the smell of your arousal in his nose there is really no way he can hold back now. His hands on your hips pull you to the edge of the counter and he kneels between your thighs, placing two open-mouthed kisses that leave blotchy grey marks. Your eyes are half-lidded, hazy with lust as he gazes up at you and that’s enough to break his resolve. As he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot, sucking gently, your head lolls back in pleasure. You’re so hot, so sensitive, reacting to even the softest of stimulations, and it’s addicting in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

You cling to the edge of the counter as his mouth works on you with violent passion, urging you higher and higher with his lips and his tongue, carefully avoiding his teeth. The taste of your arousal is so intoxicating that he can’t stop himself from moaning and he can feel a shudder tearing through your body. Primo increases his pace and you move your hips as well, following his rhythm and chasing your pleasure without shame.

You cum with a scream. Your hand digs into his hair, tugging, holding on with surprising force and it’s the most delicious pain he’s ever felt. He runs his fingers through your cum, licking them clean with a soft hum as he tastes you once again. But he needs more, he needs so much more–

“Do you want to come home with me?” you ask breathlessly as he gets up from his knees, the pain in his joints distracting him momentarily. “Spend the rest of the night?”

He looks at you in surprise but then a soft smile forms on his face. You’re so eager, so fearless. “You should be careful who you invite into your home,” he says. “You may find yourself hosting guests other’s would not deem welcome.”

You huff out a laugh. “What, like the devil?”

A chuckle and he presses a kiss to your forehead, longing to feel your warm skin on his cool lips again. “I wish I could, fiorellino, but I’m afraid my schedule is a little different from yours.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have to do this another time,” he explains, despite the painful tightness in his pants. “Preferably, I want to invite you to dinner. I don’t like that we did this in here, it is not very… classy. Maybe next Saturday?”

“Oh, okay sure,” you say, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “Of course.”

He stands to his full height, his frame towering above yours and it takes him every ounce of self-control not to just take you right here. You’re pliant, needy for him in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, and while it tempts him to no end he suddenly becomes painfully aware of his responsibility. He needs to get your full consent before he gives in to a possible relationship with you. But right now is not the moment to tell you what he is.

“This… this is not you turning me down, right?” you ask with wide, hopeful eyes.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Oh no, tesorino, this is just the start of what I want to do with you and now that I got a taste, I don’t think I will ever get enough.”

You smile, the bliss of your high still evident on your face, and he rubs your thighs in small circles for a moment, the softness of your skin a gentle reminder of how fragile you are. Primo leans in to kiss you and fights a grin when you lick into his mouth to taste yourself. Maybe not so fragile, he thinks, maybe your hunger matches his after all.

“I will see you next Saturday, fiore mio,” he says. “I’ll be here to pick you up and we can dine at my home.”

You nod tiredly and he feels bad for leaving you like this after what just transpired. He can smell your cum on his fingers even as he waits for you to finish work and probably will for the next few days. But Primo needs to collect his thoughts. This is the start of something big, something messy, and now that he tampered with the forces there is no going back. The regret that comes with it is excruciating. He can invite you to dinner, treat you like you’re the stars in the night sky, make love to you until you both pass out in exhausted bliss – but it won’t change what he is. And what he is might scare you off. The thought pains him but he tries to cling to the small shimmering light of hope inside his heart that perhaps you can accept him.

Until he figures out the logistics of having you over for dinner without giving you the scare of a lifetime, he decides to keep away from you. The temptation is too strong now, his need, his hunger, a quickly expanding black-hole inside of him that might eat you alive if he’s not careful. 

His resolve is strong, he tells himself, and it remains strong all week. Well, that is until he sees you running into the woods a mere day before your date, chased by a starving werewolf.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Now

He lives in the old castle at the edge of town.

It really shouldn’t come as a surprise but as he carries you through candle-lit hallways and multiple small chambers, old is the last thing that comes to your mind. Everything looks well-kept, orderly, the old-fashioned style of his attire translating to the interior as well. You never stay in any room for too long, the castle so big that you have to climb several staircases until you reach another long hallway. Several men in black hooded robes that look like monk’s habits pass you on your way. They don’t turn into your direction as you pass, some of them carry books, some carry laundry.

“Who are these men?” you ask.

“They’re my ghouls.”

“Ghouls?”

“Mhm.”

You don’t ask any further questions but cling to your stranger’s neck even though there is no need to. You’re safe in his arms, his strength limitless, and he does not seem tired even as you finally enter a chamber that appears to be his bedroom. Big arched windows make up one whole wall of the room and a double glass door that seems to lead to a balcony. The only light source is the full moon outside, casting milky white rays through the old windows. A huge wooden bed with silky white sheets dominates the room from the centre, most of the old hardwood flooring covered by a burgundy rug with a floral pattern, two chests of drawers lining the opposite wall as well as a desk covered in what seems to be his correspondence.

“You’re safe here, my flower,” he says as he sets you down on the bed. “I promise.”

You sit, watch him as he kneels down beside you. His face is nothing but kind, so full of concern and affection, but you can’t help but feel out of place. Knowing what he is now, while it doesn’t change the core of your feelings, still circles in your mind and you have to fight your disbelief.

“You still hesitate?” he asks.

“Are you reading my mind?”

“No, fiore, I do no such thing.” He takes your hand, covering it with his broad ones. “I would not abuse your trust, even if I could. And we have trust, no?”

“I feel like I can trust you,” you admit, tears of overwhelm pricking your eyes. “But I don’t really know anything about you. I don’t even know your name.”

“Primo.”

You exhale and let the word roll off your tongue. “Primo.”

He smiles at the sound of it, a soft, recognising smile, as if he hasn’t been called by that name in a long time. “All I ask is that you let me look after you right now, sì? I will explain and we can talk in depth later, amore.”

“Amore?”

His brow softens, giving his smile a sad quality. “My affections for you have not changed. Though I do fear that yours might have.”

You shake your head at him but before you can say anything profound, two of the black hooded ghouls enter the room. Another one joins right after, rolling a big copper bathtub inside, and you don’t even question their magic when they lift their arms and the tub fills with water. One of the other ghouls lifts his hands as well and suddenly the water starts to steam. The third ghoul places a piece of soap and a washcloth on a nearby stool, then hangs a soft-looking cotton bathrobe over the edge before they all leave without uttering a single word.

Primo helps you out of your shirt and you gasp when you see the blood covering your forearm. The bleeding has stopped but the scrape is still burning, the pain a distant throb. When he sees it, his gaze hardens but he just leads you to stand without any commentary, helping you undress, radiating tension and concern.

“It is okay that I am here?” he asks when he sees you unbutton your pants.

You nod in reply. After everything that happened you can’t say that you feel very embarrassed being naked in front of him and you feel safer in his presence, safer when he helps you. 

The water is scalding and you have to take a moment to get used to it before you can fully let the heat ease the tension you hadn’t even noticed before. Primo pulls up a chair, sitting right by your head, and picks up the cloth. You watch his brow furrow in concentration when he cleans your cuts and scrapes and his eyes meet yours a few times throughout, gazing at you with barely hidden hope. You want to tell him that your feelings are the same, if not stronger, but you can’t find it in you to disturb the silence with anything other than the occasional hiss when he touches a painful spot. It feels too fresh still, too many uncertainties plaguing your mind.

Once you’re clean and the water has cooled significantly, Primo helps you out and immediately wraps the soft cotton robe around you. As you sit back down on the bed, he walks over to his desk and fetches a small brown leather bag. Inside, you find multiple small vials in different colours and an antiseptic that looks just like any modern ones. He uses a cotton pad to clean out your wound before he grabs one of the small bottles, holding it out for you to see.

“Let me apply this to your cut,” he says. “It’s a tonic, it will help you heal.”

You roll up your sleeve to grant him access. “So, are you a healer of some sort?”

“Well, I am more of a pharmacist.” He chuckles and lets a small amount of the white liquid drop onto your arm. “Not a doctor.”

“It feels good,” you admit, the cool tincture sticks to your wound, easing the pain.

Primo smiles and wraps a bandage around your arm, tight but not too tight, like he’s done it a hundred times before. You can’t help but stare at him, his eyes and his whole face so beautiful and mesmerising, barely hiding his emotions in the depths of his features. When he catches your gaze, he tugs his hair behind his ear like he’s flustered and you spot a small cut above his left brow.

“He got you as well,” you say, grabbing a new cotton pad and reaching out for his face.

“It’s nothing, it will be gone within the hour,” he replies but he still lets you clean the scratch with careful dabs. “I suppose that I am not as powerful as I need to be to truly protect you.”

“What do you mean? You seemed very powerful to me earlier.”

“I am not ugh… how do you say? In my best years.”

You furrow your brow. “I always thought vampires stayed young forever.”

“Well, you see, I was turned well into my old age. I am not as strong and agile as someone who is born with it or turned earlier in their life,” he explains. “Usually, vampires do not like old blood, they prefer the young and healthy. But mine was… very hungry and very cruel.”

You lean over and press a kiss to his shoulder. “Is it painful to talk about this?”

“No, fiore mio, this was many centuries ago.” He regards you with caution, letting his eyes roam your body for a moment. “Do you feel better?”

“I do.” You reach out for his hand again, fiddling with his long, spindly fingers. “So are we… I mean, do you want me to stay here?”

“Yes, I do.” 

“But we won’t…”

“No, I will not touch you intimately again before we speak,” he says, squeezing your fingers. “But perhaps you need some rest before we do. You can sleep in my bed, amore. The sheets are fresh.”

The exhaustion is too strong to fight for much longer, he’s right in that, and you crawl under the sheets, careful not to strain your arm. The silky material feels cool and soft against your skin but you keep the robe on for some warmth. Primo sits by your side, watching you with the fascination of a scientist observing the bacteria in his petri dish. You wonder when he last spent time with a human like this, if he was ever intimate with a human before, but that is a question for another time.

Instead you smile at him. “Do you want to join me? Or do vampires not rest?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I would really like you to hold me,” you admit.

He visibly fights off a happy smile as he rounds the bed, shedding his clothes until he’s only in his pants and his white frilly shirt. Hesitating at the edge of the bed he pulls off the shirt as well and you can’t help but stare as he reveals his pale chest to you, speckled with light grey hair that runs all the way down to his waistband. He’s slender, bony around his ribs but with muscular shoulders and a soft belly, his slightly saggy skin the only real sign of his body’s physical age. You wonder how long he has now looked exactly like that. Centuries he’d said but that is a surreal thought you don’t quite grasp.

When he finally joins you in bed, you sink into his embrace, feeling his cool skin against your cheek as you rest your head on his chest. It’s odd, the quiet, the lack of a heartbeat, but with his fingers running along your spine, his nails scratching softly against your skin, you’re lulled to sleep in no time.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

You wake up in cold sweat – and alone. The bed is empty but you immediately spot Primo with a glance through the wide arched windows. He’s right outside the now open double doors you saw earlier, wearing a heavy, dark red robe, his blond hair softly swaying in the wind. You rise from the silken sheets and grab his wide shirt that lies as a puddle on the floor. The frills cover your hands when you slip it on and it’s long enough to cover you, his smell still clinging to the fabric and tickling your nose as you breathe in the fresh night air. 

The doors don’t lead to a balcony like you initially assumed but to a small garden, surrounded by the castle walls and illuminated by the full moon. You have no idea how long you slept but it seems to be the middle of the night. You don’t take the time to fully admire the garden, instead wrapping your arms around Primo and burying your face in his back.

“Oh fiore, did I wake you?” he asks, covering your hands with his.

“No,” you whisper. “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Come here.”

He wraps you up in his robe, pressing you tightly to his chest. You feel his lips ghosting over your forehead, then he presses them more firmly to your temple. His skin feels smooth and you turn your head enough to take in the surrounding area.

“What were you admiring?” you ask, your eyes caught on a plant that’s blooming despite the lack of daylight, long white blossoms opening themselves towards the night sky.

“Datura,” Primo explains. “They call it the devil’s trumpet. Highly poisonous. Many night-blooming plants are but of course they offer more to see to me than others.”

You smile. “The rose you gave me, was it from your garden as well?”

“Yes.”

He hugs you tighter and the pressure on your arm brings back enough pain to make you hiss in surprise. Primo tenses and you look up, only to find him staring at you with his brows drawn together. His anger isn’t directed at you and yet you feel a hint of anxiety. You know you won’t like the conversation you’re stearing towards.

“It’s my fault,” he says. “You’re hurt because of me.”

You raise a hand to his cheek. “No, no, it’s not. He attacked me.”

“But he attacked you because of my carelessness,” Primo says, leaning into your touch but avoiding your gaze. “I marked you. When we first kissed, I bit your lip and marked you.”

“Marked me for what?”

He swallows as his eyes finally meet yours. “We had an agreement.”

“An agreement? To… to kill people?”

“No, I don’t do the killing,” Primo says. “It is not my style. I am too old for carnage, amore. Or at least I thought I was.”

You furrow your brow, his explanation not helping you understand what he means. “So what is the whole deal with Max?”

“He was a werewolf,” Primo explains. “We ugh… we had this pact, I want to say. My victims, I don’t kill them, I just drink what I need and he… he gets the rest. He can smell me on them, so he knows who to target once he turns and loses most of his rational thinking. When I bit your lip, I must have marked you without my intent.”

You feel your blood rushing through your body now. “So what, he kills your victims?”

“He eats them, sì.”

“So the guys who…” You swallow hard, balling your hands to fists against his chest. “The guys who harassed me who never came back, the cleaner who disappeared… did you…”

“I never said I am innocent. But I did not kill them.” He takes your hand, softly uncurls your fingers before he looks at you with so much sadness that your heart shatters in your chest. “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore now. I know it is a lifestyle you have to condemn but it is the only way I survive.”

You feel tears welling in your eyes, uncertain whether you can accept the man you love harming other people like this. Of course it keeps him alive but handing them over to be killed is not very different from actually killing them. There has to be a different way, a way without murder.

“If we… if we were together… could you just drink from me instead?” you ask. “No more innocent people?”

“Have you ever donated blood, fiore? They will not let you give it too often, half a litre every three months.” He pauses, smiling sadly as he squeezes your hand. “That is to say… you do not produce blood fast enough. I would either starve or kill you.”

“But you could drink from me? And perhaps a bit from someone else and no one has to die?”

He nods. “I can but you might not like it, you might regret agreeing to this.”

“Try me.”

Primo furrows his brow. “Try you?”

“Show me what it’s like. How does it work? You bite my neck and suck?”

He shakes his head. “I will puncture your vein and drink until the bleeding stops.”

“You won’t suck?”

“Not when it’s you. I will just drink what spills out,” he explains. “Sucking would make the wound very bad, it would hurt you more, even though it is faster and gives me more of you.”

“It’s… it’s okay if you want to suck,” you say. “I want you to do it to satisfy you.”

“No, not this time, but thank you, amore.” A deep sigh as he relents to your request. “Va bene, but if we try this we have to go inside.”

Primo calls one of the ghouls as you settle back in bed and tells him to get you some fruit and a sweet drink for later. You’re buzzing, partly with anxiety but partly with sheer excitement. You remember the intense pleasure you felt when he bit your lip and wonder if this is going to be a similar experience.

As soon as the ghoul is gone again, Primo settles in bed behind you, ridding you of your robe and pulling you between his legs as soon as you are naked. You hold onto his thighs, the fabric of his black slacks rough against your palms.

“I will stop if you tell me to,” he whispers against your ear. “We go easy, I will not drink too much, yes?”

“Yes.” 

You sink against his solid chest, unclenching your muscles. His fingers run along your neck, brushing any stray hairs aside and gently positioning your head how he wants it. A moment passes before you feel his lips trailing over the exposed skin, pressing soft kisses to the tendon at your neck that make you shiver.

“Relax,” he mumbles. “No sudden movements, amore.”

You try your best to follow. Primo positions his mouth so very carefully that you almost anticipate the bite. His fangs poke at your skin and he gently increases the pressure until you can feel them puncturing it. The pain is not unexpected but you’re still surprised by the impact, moaning softly. His hands grab at your thighs, a deep groan leaving his throat that vibrates against your skin. You can hardly feel the blood leaving you with how tightly his mouth is attached to the violated skin. At some point, you can feel his tongue swiping along the curve and his grip tightens, long fingers digging into your flesh.

The more he drinks, the more he’s stirring behind you and then he’s suddenly rutting against you in his chase for more friction. You can feel his hard cock against your lower back and you can’t help but grind back against him. Primo stops to moan, his hands roaming your form all the way over your hips and up to your chest. His cold fingers feel heavenly against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly. “Drinking from your… from your love can be a very intense, intimate feeling.”

You hum in agreement and his tongue laps at your neck again, leaving a wet trail all the way from your shoulder to your ear before he attaches his mouth to the wound. He doesn’t drink for long before his hips buck again. Subconsciously, you follow the movements, gripping his thighs so tightly that your fingertips dig into the firm muscles.

“Can you feel it, fiore? Can you feel how our bodies long to become one?”

You only whimper in reply, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as a sick sort of pleasure tears through you, a throbbing need settling in your core.

“I want you,” he says, his voice resonating deep inside of you. “I want you, my love. Will you let me have you?”

“Please,” you whine.

His mouth leaves you altogether. The bleedings has mostly stopped, his spit and your blood cooling against your skin in the still brisk air. Primo slips out from beneath you, urgently pushing the red robe off his shoulders and his pants from his legs before his weight pushes you into the mattress. He settles between your legs, his now bare cock digging into your thigh, and you moan when his bare skin touches yours. He feels warmer now, not hot but definitely more… alive. 

“You are the most wonderful thing I have ever seen,” he says and it’s beautifully grotesque, those pretty words leaving such a feral creature after he just drank from you, his face still showing the evidence of his attack. 

Your heart clenches with unspoken love for him.

You lift your hand to his jaw, dark red blood dripping from his open mouth and onto your chest. He’s breathing heavily with his fangs bared to you, staring at you in wonder as you cradle his cheek and run your thumb over his skin. His eyes close and there is something so heartbreakingly intimate about the way he’s melting into your touch. A predator, a being who spent centuries on this earth, who hurt and fought and killed for you softens at the mere touch of your fingertips. You’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want him in this moment and you already know that you won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to be his.

Primo shifts sideways, moving one of his hands between your legs. He probes at your entrance, slowly stretching you open until he can slide two of his fingers into you, careful not to hurt you with his sharp nails. You can see how hard he’s trying to hold back, every muscle in his face clenching. But he holds your gaze, watching your lips part as he curls his fingers, fucking into you until you’re whimpering with every thrust.

“Primo,” you whine.

He nods like understands your need for more but he doesn’t stop yet. Running your hand over his jaw you collect all the blood and spit around his mouth that you can get and reach down to find his hard cock. He gasps at the contact, more blood spilling from his lips and pooling between your bodies. You pump a few times, spreading the wetness, and he unravels, hips bucking into your hand as he moans.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please don’t hold back.”

His pupils dilate and he removes his fingers from you, gathering more blood from your chest to spread on his cock. He aligns himself and slowly pushes in, watching as he his length disappears inside of you. The stretch is incredible. You keen when he bottoms out, one of your hands fisting his hair and then he finally kisses you. The metallic taste of your blood startles you at first but then you can’t help but want more of it, pushing your tongue into his mouth. Primo won’t indulge you for long before you can feel him losing his restraint, battling for dominance over your mouth. He sucks at your tongue as his hips start to move, slow thrusts at first but he quickly loses patience. 

His mouth slips from yours as he speeds up, leaving a mess of drool, face paint and cooling blood behind. He drives himself into you without holding back, just like you wanted, his gasps and moans filling your ears over the sound of his wet skin meeting yours. You tug at his hair, wrapping your legs tightly around him to get even closer, spreading the blood all over your bodies. Primo nibbles at your jaw, not breaking the skin but running his teeth along the edge before they settle at your neck again.

“I want more,” he growls against your skin. “I need more, amore mio, please. J-just a little bit.”

In reply, you angle your head to expose your neck to him. He immediately latches on, sucking the wound back open. He was right, it hurts more this time and perhaps it’s a figment of your imagination but you can feel your blood rushing out of you in a way that is dizzying, intoxicating. Everything feels more intense now, the deep thrusts, his sharp nails digging into your flesh, the throaty moans in your ear as he drinks.

You clench around him and the orgasm hits you without warning. You cry out in pleasure, raking your nails down his back as you ride out your high with a few rolls of your hips. Primo falters, his hips stuttering into yours as he approaches his own release. His mouth leaves your neck with a pop and he pants desperately. You’re overcome with emotion when you hear his needy sounds, when you feel him twitching inside of you, so close to letting go. The last few drops of your warm blood run down your clavicle as the wound slowly closes, stopping right at your heart.

“I love you,” you breathe. “I love you, Primo.”

He shudders, his cock jumping wildly inside of you before he freezes, spilling his seed with a deep, drawn-out groan. You hold him through his high, stroking his hair and back. He gives two more slow pumps, drawing out your pleasure until he collapses on top of you.

“I love you, fiore,” he mumbles, then he props himself up on his elbow, staring into your eyes. “I love you.”

A surprisingly gentle kiss. A hand caressing your wet cheeks. Primo rolls you onto your sides and you can feel your mingled cum, blood and sweat glueing your bodies together. It’s messy and sticky but you’re not ready to let him go either. His gaze falls to your bruised neck and he frowns, grazing the skin with his thumb until you groan in pain.

Primo shakes his head in displeasure. “I am sorry, amore. I made it worse.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I wanted it, my love, and I have no regrets.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You want all this, fiore? You want this old man?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, your lungs burning and your head still dizzy, but there is not a hint of doubt in your mind. “I want you and all that comes with it. I’m not scared, Primo.”

“No, you’re quite fearless,” he agrees with a smile. “We will have to take care of your wound, clean up this mess, sì? But maybe we can wait a few more minutes, I am quite exhausted.”

You hum in agreement and pull him closer. He doesn’t object as his head comes to rest on your chest this time. The blood loss seems to register now because your vision starts to swim, and so you close your eyes for a moment to let the wave of dizziness pass. Your thoughts are jumbled, so many questions, so many things to consider.

“Primo?” you ask after a moment.

He hums. “Yes, fiore mio?”

“Will you ever turn me?” 

A scoff, bitter and sharp, like it’s the absurdest thing he’s ever heard. “No, amore, I will do no such thing.”

“But if I wanted you to?”

“No.”

You open your eyes to find him looking up at you and lift a hand to smooth out the stern crease on his brow. “We’ll have to talk about this.”

“No,” he says again, then buries his face in your neck with a deep hum, wrapping his arms around you tightly. A moment passes. Then another one and he seems to mull the thought over in his head. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“We will talk about it but not soon. We have many years to come before this ever matters.”

You’re satisfied with that for now, giggle when he presses a plethora of bloody kisses all over your neck and chest, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. You know he’s trying to distract you and it works. Your feelings for him flutter to live inside of you like a colony of bats and you breathe a kiss to his soft blond hair. As he falls asleep, he slowly exhales with his lips against your windpipe. You close your eyes and savour the feeling of his body wrapped around yours, thinking that if you’re lucky, this is a moment you’re going to remember for all of eternity.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed vampire primo – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Read now Part 2: Friday Nights at the Vinothek | Vampire!Secondo x gn!reader

Masterlist – My Ao3

[her-satanic-wiles]

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

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

Coming 21st May!

Commissions are closed ⛧ Memberships get early access.

Reply to this post to be added to the taglist! Open until 20th May.

Please make sure that you are 21+ and have your age in your bio (or something vague)! This is a 21+ only fic!

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Aftercare Headcanons:

How each Papa would take care of you 💖

NSFW themes below - MDNI

Primo ♥️

Checks in with you and asks if you need anything

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

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

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

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

Meditates with you before going to sleep

Secondo 💚

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

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

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

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

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

Holds you close that night while you sleep together

Terzo 💜

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

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

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

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

Has your favorite foods and snacks delivered

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

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

Copia 🩵

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

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

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

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

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

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

Promises sweet, slow sex next time 🥺

Nihil 🧡

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

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

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

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

Gives you a thumbs up too, probably

Thank you GhostNocturnal on Twitter for some of the ideas!

[mama-emeritus-i]

Hello! First time reader AND caller here, but could I possibly request some Primo headcannons? Smut appreciated, thank you! 🩷🌺

Hi! I’m so sorry, I haven’t had any motivation or time recently. 2 jobs and school has been taking all my time haha. But yes of course!

Primo HC Fluff and Smut

Fluff

I imagine y'all met when Primo was still in his prime(o), either right before he became Papa, or during his time as Papa.

Much like the platonic Primo head canons, things were taken SLOW. It started out as small "hello's" between sermons, and soon those increased to small talk and conversations.

Nihil teased him about how close y'all were getting, and was also pushing him to settle down and get ready for an heir.

In the relationship, y'all took your time. It was always soft touches, kind words, and late night conversations.

On your first date, he picked you up from your room with a small bouquet of the best flowers from his garden.

He knows all the chivalry rules, in your entire relationship, you have never touched a doorknob, he always walks you to your room, pulls out your chairs, and walks on the outside of the sidewalk.

He genuinely cares about you, and you will feel so incredibly loved when you're with him. He keeps a journal with small bits of information (I.e. your favorite color, favorite foods)

During mass, meetings, and dinners you are always within arms reach of him. While he HATES PDA, he's very insistent on holding hands anytime you're out.

He's not a jealous person, he knows you are his and that is that. Other people can look but no one can have what he has.

Smut below the cut

Smut

It took y'all a WHILE before you two started getting intimate. Not because he was celibate, but he was so concerned about scaring you off.

He was so gentle with you and I think still struggles with being rough, even if you asked.

Definitely sat you down and you both had a long discussion on boundaries and what you wanted to explore.

This man could be between your thighs for hours, like I'm not kidding. He wants you sat on his face til you physically can't cum anymore and his face is covered in you. (we've all seen that nose. Don't pretend like you haven't thought of it)

I don't think Primo is particularly kinky, he will do it if you ask, but he's perfectly happy just not.

His one major kink that he has always wanted to try, is some sacrilegious chapel sex, possibly in the confession booth...definitely in the confession booth.

LET ME EXPLAIN. Primo also really likes to see you get yourself off, so the idea of him on one side of the booth, and you on the other side hearing each other. This would make him feral, the idea of being able to hear you, but not being able to touch you. Only being able to hear you get off due to his words.

While he Is not per se loud, he does talk you through it, especially later on once you're used to each other.

THIS MAN KNOWS YOUR BODY BETTER THEN YOU DO AND I WILL STAND BY THAT

He didn't really get aftercare until you explained it to him and showed him what to do. Once he got it though, he quickly became the king of aftercare, tending to anything you need, making sure you have water and a snack. He also will draw you a shower or bath depending on just how long y'all went.

[da-rulah]

Welcome to my masterlist!

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

Under 18’s please respect these ratings.

Trigger warnings are tagged in the posts.

Full Length Fics

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

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

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

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

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

Headcanons/Drabbles

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

Copia stress relief [SFW]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

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

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

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

Copia gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

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

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

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

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

Full Length Fics

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

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

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

Headcanons/Drabbles

Terzo HCs (in the style of Confessional)

Full Length Fics

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

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

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

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

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

Headcanons/Drabbles

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

Secondo gets jealous... [NSFW 18+]

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

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

Full Length Fics

None. Yet...

Headcanons/Drabbles

The Papa's Kinks [NSFW 18+]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Full Length Fics

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

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

Headcanons/Drabbles

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

The Ghouls catch a cold... [SFW]

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

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

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

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

Full Length Fics

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

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

Headcanons/Drabbles

Sexting with Mary [NSFW 18+]

Jealous Mary headcanons [NSFW 18+]

BDSM Activities with Mary [NSFW 18+]

[theunholybastard]

-Theunholybastard's Masterlist-

Hey, Lovelies! 👋 Finally, I made a proper masterlist!

Here, I provide content for The Band Ghost, including all of the Papas, Sister Imperator, and Era 3, 4, and 5 Ghouls and Ghoulettes.

Though not all of my works are NSFW, my account is strictly 18+, along with most of my works. Minors are not welcome here!

Any works that are NSFW are highlighted in red. Any works that are SFW are highlighted in purple.

-Primo

-Oneshots-

Objectification (Papa Emeritus I x GN!Reader)

Sex Toys (Papa Emeritus I x F!Reader)

Spanking (Papa Emeritus I x TransM!Reader)

Morning Sex (Papa Emeritus I x F!Reader)

Handjob (Papa Emeritus I x GN!Reader)

Collaring (Papa Emeritus I x M!Reader)

Free Use (All Papas x F!Reader)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Secondo

-Oneshots-

Angry Sex (Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader)

Deepthroating (Papa Emeritus II x M!Reader)

Sensory Deprivation (Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader)

Pregnancy (Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader)

Public Sex (Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader)

Food Play (Papa Emeritus II x TransM!Reader)

Blood (Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader)

Free Use (All Papas x F!Reader)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Terzo

-Oneshots-

Titfucking (Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader)

Somnophilia (Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader)

Breeding (Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader)

Glove Kink (Papa Emeritus III x GN!Reader)

Quickie (Papa Emeritus III x GN!Reader)

Double Penetration (Papa Emeritus III x Omega x F!Reader)

Lingerie (Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader)

Breath Play (Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader)

Free Use (All Papas x F!Reader)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Copia

-Oneshots-

In Sync (Era 5 Ghouls x Papa Emeritus IV)

Pegging (Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader)

Dry Humping (Cardinal Copia x GN!Reader)

Praise (Frater Imperator x F!Reader)

Voyeurism (Cardinal Copia x GN!Reader)

Virginity (Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader)

Thigh Riding (Cardinal Copia x F!Reader)

Sexting (Frater Imperator x GN!Reader)

Threesome (Papa Emeritus IV x Cumulus x F!Reader)

Shower Sex (Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader)

Free Use (All Papas x F!Reader)

Bad Day (Papa Emeritus IV x GN!Reader)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Nihil

-Oneshots-

None so far...

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Sister Imperator

-Oneshots-

None so far...

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-Era 3 Ghouls

-Oneshots-

Double Penetration (Papa Emeritus III x Omega x F!Reader)

-Full length Fics-

None so far...

-Era 4/5 Ghouls/Ghoulettes

-Oneshots-

A Heated Encounter (Mountain x Aurora)

Era 5 Ghouls/Ghoulettes Period Comfort Headcanons

In Sync (Era 5 Ghouls x Papa Emeritus IV)

Threesome (Papa Emeritus IV x Cumulus x Reader)

Rainy Evenings (Dewdrop x Rain)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-