#secondo fanfic

[whiskeyghoul]

Reprimand || [Secondo/Papa Emeritus II X F!Reader]

A/N: Hello friends. Different from my previous criminal minds fics I decided to dip my toes in writing Ghost fics. Since I watched rite here rite now the flames of this fandom have been awakened once more. I am literally going insane. This fic got a bit out of hand. Like… I am not sorry but yeah it is long.

Credits: Divider by @wrathofrats

WC: 6,1K 

Tags: p with plot, ghost, ghost band, secondo, punishment, purely self indulgent. 

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, unprotected,  p in v, spanking, abuse of power if you squint, just all of them…

3 times. 3 separate times you have managed to embarrass yourself in front of the head of your satanic church. Papa Emeritus the second was not known to be one of the more forgiving papas. In all fairness he scared you a little, he was cold, intimidating. Every time you ran into him he made you tremble, perhaps that is why you embarrassed yourself so many times. Though something about his imposing presence filled you with a conflicting feeling. Along with feeling intimidated, a little scared to anger him, you felt a certain attraction. 

The first time you embarrassed yourself, well, it was a doozy. You had joined the satanic church not too long ago. Settling in as a sister of sin quite well. The role assigned to you was mostly library duty, having a great insight in organization and keeping an inventory of texts, scripts and tomes along with other satanic literature. You were standing on a step stool, rearranging a shelf of books to make space for a new addition to the library. Softly humming to yourself, lost in thought as you pulled one of the larger books from the shelf. The biblichor filling your nose was wonderfully sweet and dusty. Giving it a thorough wipe with a dusting cloth. The gold embellishments shone on the leather as you tilted it side to side. 

You were pulled from your thoughts as a smooth voice cleared its throat next to you. “Hand me that book on the top shelf. If you could.” You turned awfully fast, the book slipping from your hands in surprise. A squeak passed your lips as you felt your heartbeat pick up. A pained groan leaving the man before you as you just realized you dropped one of the heavier texts on the feet of Papa Emeritus the second. “Sorella.” His voice was low, his eyes dark and brows furrowed. Nose flaring as he took a deep breath. A scrutinizing gaze that made your hands tremble, your knees weak. “Papa! I am terribly sorry! Oh Sathanas, please forgive me.” You rambled an apology, trying to step down quickly from the step stool to go fetch something, anything, to lessen the blow of the book. Instead, in all your nerves and bumbling about, you nearly planted your face first into the ground. That would be if he hadn't reached out, grabbing your arm in a strong grip to keep you from falling face first. You found your footing, feeling your face flare bright red at the foolish display you had just made of yourself. His hand left your arm, and with it it's surprising warmth. “Once again, I apologize, Papa.” A stammering message you were, trying to beg for forgiveness from the figure you had only envisioned as intimidating. Only ever having spoken in passing, literally, a simple exchange when you walked past. Or watched him sermon, powerfully, passionately. Those sermons left you wondering at times, what he would be like to speak to.

You were waiting for him to scold you. Your eyes cast downward to your neatly polished black heels, suddenly every speck of dust on them was interesting to you. Remembering the book at his feet you quickly knelt down, picking it up and clutching it to your chest. Your heartbeat hammering against the leather bound book. “I asked for the book on the top shelf.” He stated it simply but firmly, not the scolding you expected. Maybe, he was giving you some reprieve for being new. “Ofcourse, I'm sorry.” You quickly stepped on the step stool, carefully this time. Placing the book in your hands back on its respective shelf. Reaching up to the book that laid horizontally on the top shelf. Your hands were trembling as you picked it up. Habit feeling too tight, too short, as you brought down the book. Looking down ever so slightly as you handed the book to Secondo. Whose eyes flicked up to your face from somewhere lower. “Thank you, sorella, now. Do not let it happen again. These are priceless after all. You shall be off with a warning. Only one.” His mismatched eyes bore into yours as he spoke. You swallowed thickly, eyes wide, nodding your head. “Ofcourse, thank you, Papa.” words all falling from your mouth without thinking. “Continue your work then.” He turned, his robes moving elegantly as he walked out of the library. Leaving you to wallow in self pity at the fool you made of yourself.

The second time, a ghoul came with the message that Secondo had instructed you to gather papers and texts from the library to bring to his quarters. He even sent a list. Eager to please after the previous embarrassment, you agreed in a heartbeat. When you had found everything you made your way towards the wing of his room, arms filled with old tomes and yellowed paper. Sore from the weight of it. You didn't understand why he would need all of these, but it must have been for some important research. Most of the texts in your arms were old, rare, and barely anyone picked them up in the library. Yet he had asked for them specifically. Heels clicking on the tile as you made way down the hallways to his quarters, reaching the door you realized there was no way for you to knock. You furrowed your brows, deciding to twist so your elbow hit the door twice. As close to a knock as you could get. “Enter.” Secondo's voice sounded from the other side of the wooden door. Staring at the door knob you had to think of something. You knocked again with a sigh. “Enter.” His voice sounded annoyed, clearly he was busy. Or perhaps having a bad day. “I- I brought the books.” You spoke loudly, hoping he'd be able to hear you. There was a muttered word you couldn't quite make out before he spoke again. “I expected that. I said, enter.” He sounded ticked off now, voice laced with the barest hint of anger.

You sighed, furrowing your brows as you tried to maneuver your elbow and hip just so that you could turn the doorknob. Pushing against it to make it easier to open. With a click, the door swung open, leaving you unbalanced and falling through the open space. The books and texts falling to the floor. Sprawling out onto the wood and carpet. “Cazzo!” Secondo cursed as he stood up. You scrambled onto your knees, gathering the papers closest to you as you repeated continued apologies. Forgetting the pain in your nose and elbows from where you fell. Not even feeling the warm drip that slowly slid down to your lips. Eyes glued to the books and papers on the floor. “Those are priceless artifacts. Idiotta. How are you even considered to handle these when you are so incompetent. Dropping books here and there.” His footsteps came close, coming to a halt right in your field of vision. Still, you didn't dare to look. “I am so sorry, Papa, you are right. I should be more careful.” Your hands never stilled their work, piling up the books in front of you. “Look at me when I am talking” His voice commanded. Your head snapped up, swallowing thickly as you caught his mismatched eyes again. The blood from your nose dripping on your habit. “You are like a bumble bee. Flying into everything, causing chaos in our system. We do not need a bumbling idiota to ruin our priceless artifacts.” He was right. In his presence you were terribly clumsy. He made you nervous. Your heart beat faster. Hands feeling uncharacteristically clammy all of a sudden. And your face once again heating with a fierce embarrassed blush.

“Now, corporal punishment seems redundant.” His eyes flicked down, where the blood dripped down to your habit, landing just on the swell of your breast. A harsh exhale sounded through his nose. “Fix your habit, sorella. I expect everyone to be in pristine condition. Even the bumble bees.”  His remark was snide. You could imagine what you looked like to him. On your knees, blood dripping down your nose and mouth, reaching your chin to drip down further onto your habit and grucifix. Eyes wide, hands placed on your thighs, trembling ever so slightly. You licked your lips, tasting the metallic of your blood and embarrassment. You must have looked like a mess. Scrambling to your feet you wiped at your nose, finally daring to move with his permission. The blood staining the white cuff around your wrist. “I'm sorry again, Papa.” You repeated an apology before heading out the door and to your own quarters to change. Terribly disappointed in yourself you decided in that moment things needed to change.

So now you were here. The third time you were walking down towards the chapel with another sister of sin, you had been asked to bring the unholy communion to prepare for the mass that night. Being on your best behavior since the previous incidents. Your workload seemingly increasing, your proximity to secondo growing closer with each task he bestowed upon you. No more books dropped, no more stumbles, you did everything to behave and paid close attention to any movement you made. The efforts were working, Secondo had even so much as complimented you for it after you had helped prepare the altar for a ritual. In his own way. “Sorella, I've noticed a lack of bumble bees around. Your efforts don't go unnoticed. Well done.” hearing those two last words made your heart flutter. Perhaps it was due to finally receiving praise, or it was specifically receiving praise from him. Every look from him made your heart beat faster. Every chaste, accidental touch made you wonder what his hands would feel like on your body. Your thoughts wandering back to that second time, when he had mentioned corporal punishment. What that could mean, what he could do in that office of his. Especially after hearing a few of the sisters speak about singular thrysts they had had with him.

The pitcher of wine was surprisingly heavy in your hands. The fragrant wine was a deep, blood red. As you walked down the hallways you took careful steps, trying not to let the wine slosh over the side of the pitchers. “I don’t understand why we can not keep it in the bottles.” You sighed as you almost spilt a drop of wine. “Honestly it is probably just rituals left over from years ago. I'm almost certain they did an unholy prayer over them.” The sister, Elaine, answered in turn. You rolled your eyes at that, never understanding why traditions couldn’t be changed. “It feels almost like it is inevitable to spill it though.” You spoke, trying to keep up with Elaine. “Perhaps that is why you were asked to help.” She returned, a small smirk as she walked so effortlessly with the pitcher in hand. “What do you mean?” You hoped tales of your clumsiness hadn't yet spread all throughout the church. It was likely though. People talked, gossip was a given. “You don't know what they have been saying?” Elaine turned her face towards you with furrowed brows. A curious expression on your face. You shook your head no, truly not an idea of what she could be talking about. “Well, you have been given a lot of tasks by Secondo, have you not?” She questioned. “Yes, I thought he did so with most siblings.” you answered, honestly. Elaine shook her head no, a smirk playing at her perfectly painted lips. “Oh no, he's been testing you. Seeing if you will trip up again. He needs a reason you see.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as you walked. “A reason for what?” You asked, no longer paying attention to what was ahead of you. Fully invested in the information divulged. You rounded a corner together. “A reason to punish.” She smirked. The way she said it implied less than conventional punishment.

As you did you hadn't noticed the man you were just speaking about, a mere two steps away. “Sorella.” His voice was low and you jumped. Like you were caught red handed, gossiping about your papa. The pitcher of wine sloshed, the dark red liquid spilling out and down the front of your habit. the sound of it hitting the floor was incredibly loud in your ears. Watching as drops smattered outward and staining your shoes and stockings. Along with the hem of Secondos's papal robes. You had been doing so well. All efforts ruined by a simple muttering. By not paying attention to where you were going. Your eyes flickered to Elaine whose expression was a mix of amusement and horrified. Then, they landed on the stern expression of Secondo. His nostrils flared as he eyed your drenched habit. “Sec- Papa, I'm sorry, you frightened me. I- I should go get this cleaned up. I apologize.” The words fell from your lips in rapid succession, feeling the tension in your shoulders as you held on to the, now empty, pitcher like it was your life line. “No.” That one single word shut you up. Quickly shutting your mouth as you felt a shiver run down your spine. Maybe it was the wine, wetting your habit and making it cold and clingy. Or maybe it was the effect Secondo had on you. “Get a ghoul to clean this.” He turned his head to Elaine who nodded quickly,  “ofcourse, Papa.” She spoke before leaving. Her heels clicking against the floor, trailing off and away.

“You are coming with me. Punishment seems only fair.” His hand wrapped around your upper arm, harshly pulling you along to where you knew his quarters to be. “I truly apologize. I've been trying my hardest. Please, Papa, forgive me.” He didn't listen to your begging. It didn't matter to him what you said in that moment. He seemed enraged. “You beg for forgiveness when you just blamed me for your incompetence?” He nearly hissed the words as he opened the door to his quarters. Pulling you inside and leaving you at the entrance. “I didn't- no! That's not what I meant! I'm sorry!” You tried to scramble, take back the words you had said. It wasn't your point to blame him at all. “Strip.” He commanded. Mismatched eyes trained on you as he took a step away. Discarding his robe to reveal a sinfully tight button down tucked into slacks. Delicate embroidered grucifixes on the collar. Combined with the papal painted, it was a sight to behold. You froze. Jaw slack. Mind going a hundred miles an hour, not comprehending his words and his actions together. “What?” You were like a deer in the headlights. “You are dripping red wine. We can't have you spoil the carpet in my office, can we? So, strip.” His voice did something to you, the firmness left no room for questioning. “Of-ofcourse.” You spoke with trembling hands reaching up to take off the white collar, its pristine condition forever marred with deep purple red blotches. “Leave it at your feet. The wood can be cleaned.” Secondos voice commanded and you nodded your head ever so slightly. Dropping the piece of cloth down to the floor.

Then, your hands moved  to the back of your dress. Slipping down the zipper with practiced ease. you could hear your own heartbeat, feel it pulsing under your skin, each of your nerves on end as Secondo scrutinized every move. Slipping your arms from the garment, it fell to the floor in a pile at your feet. You felt naked. Every hair standing on end as the cool air hits your skin. The cool metal of your grucifix resting right in the middle of your sternum, falling between your breasts. You crossed your arms, trying to hide away from his burning eyes. “Feeling shy, sorella?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he enjoyed seeing you uncomfortable. “Well, I have a lot more planned to put you in your place. Maybe you will learn.” He added before walking over to the large, wooden desk that stood near the end of the room. Picking up a glass along with a crystal carafe, amber liquid sloshing around the bottom. He poured a glass, taking a sip and looking rather satisfied before topping it off. “This.” He said as he walked back over, “This is a whiskey, gifted to me when I became Papa. 25 years old, single malt, a bottle costs over 500 euros. You are to not spill a single drop from this glass. Easy enough, no?” He stared deep into your eyes, holding out the glass.

"Yes, Papa.” You said, as you reached out. It should be easy enough. Though the glass was shallow, and filled much higher than it should be. But standing there and holding a glass, even with your current trembling hands you could do that. He quickly moved it back ever so slightly out of reach.  “Not like this, that would be too easy. Come.” He moved to the left, where a leather couch stood, a coffee table to the side. You watched as he sat down, patting his lap with his free hand. A wicked smirk taunting you as you realized what was going to happen. “Naughty girls like you deserve a spanking. Don't you think?” He tilted his head in your direction. His eyes traveling down your body with a hint of hunger. Dropping your hands to your sides, clenching them in small nervous fists. “You're right, ofcourse.” There was no reason to argue. You could feel a knot tighten in your stomach, as you clenched your thighs together for a mere second. Hoping that the sudden onset of arousal was just an illusion. You took the few steps to close the distance, standing in front of Secondo who tilted his head up to look at you. “Don't make me wait too long, bumble bee. Or should I extend the punishment already for your insubordination?” He patted his lap again, gloved hand on thick, sturdy thighs. “no, of course not.” You spoke softly as you were driven to action. Bracing a hand on one of his thighs as you laid yourself onto his lap. Your knees are unable to hit the ground, trying to find stability before you take a deep breath and remove your hands from the ground. Accepting the cold glass into your hands like an offering. “Here you go. Remember, not a drop gets wasted.” You nodded your head as he spoke. “Yes, I remember.” You said. “Good, I think ten will be fitting, yes?” It wasn't a question but still you agreed. 

You thought you were ready, taking in a deep breath through your nose. When that first spank didn't come you were a little confused. Tilting your head to have a look at Secondo, but as soon as you tilted your head the first spank came. Jolting forward at the sudden, sharp impact on the left side. The feel of the leather glove on your exposed behind stung. The size of his palm branding in your skin. You gasped, looking back towards the cup, realizing that if you spilled but a single drop you would only get yourself in more trouble. “Count them out, sorella.” He said as his hand rubbed gently at the skin for a second. The leather was somewhat cool now against the reddening skin. “One.” You spoke, voice teetering on quivering. Your eyes stayed glued on the cup this time, as you felt his hand leave your skin. It came down again with force, pushing the wind out of your lungs with a strangled groan. “Two.” You said, counting out like he had told you to. His hand once again rubbing at the supple skin of your ass.

Again. "Three." Each time he switched sides. Around the fifth spank you had to bite your tongue. His hand lingered longer than before, squeezing. Just inches away from where you could feel a wetness start to form between the folds of your pussy. Praying to Satan that he wouldn't notice. “How many was that, sorella?” You could feel him lean in closer, his weight shifting as he nearly whispered wanting your answer. His breath hitting the shell of your ear. "F-Five." “Half way, you are doing very well.” He praised. Those simple words, the way he was touching you enough to get you hot and heavy. You moved your hips involuntarily, trying to get some form of relief. A low chuckle escaped him, “Something wrong, little bee?” He asked and you shook your head no. “No, Papa, please, continue.” Your voice was whinier than you expected, high pitched and a little breathless. His hand left your ass, your eyes flicked up to see him remove his leather glove with his teeth putting it to the side before he spoke. “So eager to get reprimanded, I might get used to it.” He spoke and before you could comprehend it he spanked you two times in quick succession. The stinging a mix of pain and pleasure. “Seven!” You exclaimed as you held your hands steady. Trying to focus on the amber liquid rather than the feeling of large hands inching ever closer to your trembling pussy. Or the swelling you could start to feel press against your side.

“Eight!” “Nine!” Only one more, and you hadn't spilled a drop. Even though your legs were trembling, your arms felt a little sore from holding the cup, ass incredibly sore from the spanking, and not even to speak of the state of your panties. But you were doing good. Great even. “Last one, little bee, do well and I'll be able to give you something you might enjoy.” His breath hit the shell of your ear, feeling hot and intimate in a way. His words do nothing to help the state of your arousal. Only worsening as thoughts began to run through your mind. Pictures of what he might do flashing into your subconscious. When that final spank came you were shocked, jolting forward as his hand hit lower than you were expecting. Directly hitting your wet cunt. You couldn't help the strangled moan that tumbled from your lips. A rush of pain and pleasure flowing through your body. “You did so well, sorella.” His fingers languidly trailed up and down your clothed pussy, the wet fabric was sticky and clinging to every curve and fold. His fingers felt large, thick, through the cloth. “Though… It seems you have been enjoying this punishment more than anything.” A chuckle sounded out above you as his free hand picked up the glass from your hands. Taking a deep sip and letting out an appreciative sigh. “Is that why you are so clumsy, little bee? Have you been distracted by your papa?” His voice was taunting, as his hand continued his ministrations on your weeping cunt. “I-i have been doing my best.” You answered. Refusing to confess to what you both knew to be the truth. "Yes, you have.” his fingers left your cunt. A whimper escaping you at the loss.

It didn't last long though. The glass of whiskey was placed off on the coffee table before Secondo easily maneuvered you from his lap. Onto your knees in front of him. You could see the outline of his dick, straining against the black pants. Mouth watering at the sight of it. “You've been doing so well, wanting compliments no? Wanting to be seen, to be rewarded for your efforts?” He asked, his hand cradling your face almost tenderly. Like he hadn't just used it to spank you sore, to tease you over your clothes. You nodded your head yes, not trusting yourself to answer verbally. “I'll give you what you want.” His words were short before his tender touch turned to a grip. Pulling you up, as he stood smoothly. You nearly tripped but kept standing, your face in his strong grip as he led you to his desk. Turning so you were with your back towards it, he lifted you, forcing you to sit on the edge. The cool, polished wood smooth against your raw ass cheeks. When you looked up at him, you saw hunger in those mismatched eyes. A sight you had only fantasized about up till now. Licking your lips quickly, wetting them just before his lips crashed against yours.

A mix of harsh kisses, biting teeth as Secondo guided you to lay back against the desk. The kiss tasted of caramel whiskey, smooth, bitter and still sweet. His hands roaming over your hips, your waist, squeezing over your bra before they moved down. Eliciting moans and gasps from you that were swallowed up into the kiss. You couldn't wait any longer though, needing more from him than he was giving. Legs wrapping around his waist, a silent plea for him to be closer. Your hand wandered down on its own. Cupping the bulge straining in his pants. His groan didn't go unnoticed, low in his chest as your fingers applied pressure. “Such a tease, sorella.” He pulled away from the kiss. Unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. The paint around his mouth is already starting to smudge by the sloppiness of the kiss. “I'm not a tease Papa, I want it.” You panted out, licking your lips as you watched him. The trail of hair down his chest being revealed inch by inch. The way it thickened towards the edge of his  pants. How solid his torso looked. “Not just now, ever since the library.” His words came out strained, as he worked to undo his belt. The clinking of it signaled its removal, before the zipper sounded. “I didn't tease, I was surprised.” You countered, sitting up to help him but Secondo quickly pushed you back down on the desk. “You have no clue. Clueless little bee. In that habit, with those doe eyes, with that voice, in this lingerie. You. You are a tease.” His hand wrapped into the thin fabric of your panties. bundling it up between the puffy lips of your pussy. Giving it a harsh tug causing you to moan at the friction against your clit. That seemed to be the catalyst, he ripped the panties down, letting them fall to the ground at his feet. His left hand pulled his erection from the confines of those sinful pants, apparently having gone commando. A deep groan escaped him as he gave himself a few tugs. You watched, in awe at the size of it. The length was impressive, sure, but the girth was what really made you shiver with anticipation. 

“Seeing you, on your knees in front of me, I barely kept my composure.” Secondo slipped the head of his cock between your folds. Coating it with the slick and rubbing the tip against your clit teasingly. Biting your lip, you looked up, his words a confession. He wanted control, wanted tidiness and regulations. Yet he also seemed to get irrevocably turned on by your disruption of it all. You were, in his eyes, a perfect disruption. A groan escaped his mouth as the head of his cock bumped against your clit. “Please.” You begged, voice high pitched as you moved your hips slightly, creating more friction for yourself. “Such an eager thing. All wet from getting punished, pleading for your papa. Begging so nicely I might just give you what you want.” He said lowly. Using one of his large hands to splay across your lower abdomen, keeping you in place with a simple pin of his hand. The right one grabbing the base of his dick to line the tip up with your entrance. Pushing inside, the head slipped in with a delicious stretch, your eyes closing on their own. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he pushed in deeper. It was slow, you could feel every inch stretching you further with restraint. He was holding back, you could feel it, making sure you felt him completely. When his hips met yours and he was fully inside, Secondo groaned from the back of his throat. You could feel the fabric from his pants against your ass, the zipper a stark, cold contrast to the softness of them. “Look at me, Sorella.” He commanded, your eyes snapping open to meet his. His pupils were blown wide, the blue-ish gray and white almost completely absorbed by the black. His right hand, moving to grab your thigh, as he gave an experimental thrust. “Such a good sister. Doing exactly as her papa asks.” He said as a moan tumbled from your lips at the friction. The praise went straight to your core, feeling your walls clamp around his thickness.

“You like that huh, like to get praised?” He almost chuckled as he pulled his hips back. “Just your praise.” You managed to utter a little breathless as you felt him pulling out until the head of his dick was just inside of you. His right hand traveled down your leg, reaching your knee he pulled it away from his waist. Lifting it up to rest your leg against his shoulder. “I shall give you just that then.” he said, pressing a kiss to your calf before he plunged back inside of you with a force you hadn’t expected. A strangled moan escaped you as the air left your lungs. It was the start of a grueling pace. His thrust hitting deep, each one punctuated by a moan or a whine tumbling from your lips. His left hand pressed down on your lower abdomen. “I can feel myself inside you like this.” He groaned, leaning forward ever so slightly, “So tight. You are welcoming me so well. Like you were made for me.” He praised breathlessly. You clamped down at his words, earning you another moan from him. Leaning down further he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. Your hands reaching out, right arm wrapping around his shoulder as your tongues slid against each other in synchronicity. Left hand on his cheek, holding his face close. Your left knee was pressed up to your chest, the new position felt like he got even deeper, hitting that spongy area inside of you that caused white spots to infiltrate your vision. An incredibly wanton moan bubbled past your lips, being swallowed up by him. 

The only sound that filled the office was that of his hips meeting yours, sloppy and wet from your pussy. Paired with the moans and groans you shared in the kiss. Teeth clashing together every so often. It was electrifying. When he pulled away from the kiss he moved down, licking, kissing and biting his way down to your neck before moving away. You thought he never looked hotter. Completely undone, licking his shining lips. His papal paints now completely smudged away from his lips, black and white mixing around to create a darker gray. His breath comes out in pants and grunts with each thrust. Fanning against your lips and sending a shiver down your spine. His right hand moved up your side, reaching your flimsy bralette and fingers pushing underneath. Squeezing at the soft flesh, massaging your breast in his hand. Fingers reach to tweak at your nipple, causing another surge of pleasure through your body.

You dropped your left hand, finding his hand perched on your lower abdomen. The familiar knot growing inside of you, tightening with each thrust, each meeting of your hips to his. “Papa, I- fuck- touch me- more- please-” You beg, sentences cut short but it was clear what you wanted. A smirk graced his stoic features, his hand slid down and towards your weeping cunt, “look at me when you cum. I want to see how good your papa makes you feel.” His voice is strained, low and deep in his chest. When his pointer and middle finger started to strum slowly at your clit you could feel you were done for. Pussy started to clench around his dick that kept on hitting that spot perfectly. It was almost too much, almost. You had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

Secondo continued to apply pressure to your sensitive clit, moving his fingers in tight circles as he watched your every reaction. A string of curse words fell from your lips as that knot tightened, clamping down as he never seemed to falter in his pace. The muscles in your thighs twitched as you felt it snap inside you. Jaw slack as you moaned, vision blurry with pleasure. Waves of it rushing through you like white hot lava under your skin. Your walls spasmed around him as he fucked you through the orgasm. When you came down, however, he didn’t let up. His fingers continued to work, as his pace picked up, nearing painful. Though the pain was mixed with undeniable pleasure. Not giving a moment of respite, you could feel the second orgasm building quickly. 

“I am going to fill you up.” Secondo groaned through gritted teeth. “And you will keep it inside you until after mass.” his pace faltered, becoming less controlled, more wild. “And if you spill a single drop. You will be punished again.” The idea of this not being a one time thing made you excited. “Yes, yes, please give it to me.” You spoke as you nodded your head. He picked up speed, you could feel his dick twitch inside of your sensitive pussy. Hips meeting yours, his fingers never faltered as he tried to push you over the edge of orgasming again. Still sensitive you could feel it all, this time you couldn’t even bring out a sound as it washed over you. Splotches entering your field of vision as white hot pleasure ran through you again. When your pussy clamped around Secondo’s dick you felt him reach his peak. Hot cum filling you up in spurts and twitches with a loud groan of your name. His hips stilled, slow thrusts as he emptied himself inside of you. His breathing was ragged as he stood up straighter, moving your left leg off of his shoulder gently. Still, with his softening dick inside of you. You watched his chest rise and fall, trying to match your own unruly breathing to his to calm down. Feeling tired and completely fucked out. There was a moment of serenity in the quiet, matched breathing. A peaceful moment as you kept his gaze.

A few seconds of pure devotion.

Secondo was the first to move again, slowly pulling out you hissed. Feeling empty and sensitive. You clamped around nothing. trying to keep his seed from spilling out of you. “You should get ready for mass.” Secondo said though his eyes were trained on your clenching pussy. “I don’t have a clean habit, or my panties.” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “A ghoul will get them.” Secondo spoke as his left hand reached out. His fingers find your entrance easily, dipping his middle and pointer inside causing a pained whimper from you. Giving a few lazy thrusts with his fingers he smirked as you squirmed away. “Not a drop. Remember?” He said before pulling his fingers out again. “Does that count as a spilled drop?” You asked as you could see the mixed fluids on those thick, long fingers. “Not if you don’t waste it.” He held them up and moved them to your lips. You opened your mouth wordlessly, welcoming those fingers and cleaning them off. Tongue moving over his fingers, in between and taking every drop of what he would give you. A strange combination of his and your arousal. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched you work his fingers like it could have been his dick. When he took them from your mouth he seemed a little torn.

“I will see you at mass.” He spoke as he started to button his shirt. You watched him get dressed before he disappeared into a different room. A ghoul entered the office with your clothes a few moments later. You covered yourself, a little embarrassed at your near nudity. Though the ghoul didn’t seem to mind, a knowing smile on his face. So, you got dressed after he left, getting ready to go to mass as you did everything you could to not spill a drop of Secondo’s cum. Sitting in the front pew at mass with the left leg crossed over the right, listening to him preaching about the dark lord. Squirming in your seat as you tried to keep everything inside. Switching to cross your right over your left you felt it. The slow drip of liquid pooling in your panties. Your breathing hitched, and your eyes met Secondo, a wicked glint in his eyes as he knew.

It was going to be a long mass.

[ramblingoak]

good morning kisses+ you're gonna get lipstick all over me with:

Ribz I took your prompt and gave it a vampire twist, I hope you like it!

Breakfast in Bed

Secondo x Female Reader ~ The perfect start to your new life as a vampire

Warnings: vampire violence and all that entails, biting, blood, more blood, sharing a meal vampire style, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, soft!vampiric!Secondo, rough sex, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2400 words

It was strange waking up after you died.

You weren’t struggling to breathe, gulping down huge breaths of air.  Technically you didn’t need to breathe anymore although Secondo said you might still do it out of habit.  The first thing you became aware of was the feel of the cool sheets against your skin.  You used to make fun of Secondo’s demands when it came to thread count, but now you were nothing but thankful for his pickiness as you laid there naked. 

With a soft groan you stretched out, spreading your limbs wide on the large bed as you started to look around the room.  Secondo had promised you that you wouldn’t wake up alone but there wasn't a sign of him anywhere.  The thick curtains were drawn over the windows and the only light came from a few dim lamps scattered around the room.  You planted your elbows beneath you to push yourself up but a horrific cramping in your stomach had you gasping and dropping back onto the bed. 

The pain was more intense than anything you’d experienced before.  Even more than how much it hurt when Secondo had bit into your neck.  You moved a hand up to where his teeth hand sunk in, expecting to feel broken skin but there was nothing.  Your skin was smooth and cold to the touch.  No sign of what he had done to you, of what you had asked him to do to you. 

You had asked him to make you a vampire. 

The Emeritus family being vampires was a horribly kept secret in the church.  Most of that was due to Terzo, a man that couldn’t be discreet about anything.  But with their status as vampires being well known amongst the congregation it provided them with ample opportunities to feed.  Most Siblings of Sin were more than willing to expose their neck or wrist to one of the brothers.  You counted yourself among them although Secondo’s favored place to bite you was at the inside of your thigh.  Your flesh there was often marred with bruises and bite wounds from your Papa.

But that was before last night.  Before he bit into his own wrist and had you drink from him.  You could still taste him on your tongue and you unashamedly rubbed your thighs together when you thought of how erotic it had been. 

“Look at you.”  You froze at the sound of his voice, looking around the room for him without luck.  When he spoke again you turned your head toward the foot of the bed and had to stifle a moan as you watched him walk out of the shadows towards you.  “How do you feel, belezza?”

“It hurts.” 

He tsked at you, shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed fully nude just like you were. In a stark contrast from yours his skin was warm as he placed his hands on your ankles.  They moved up and down your shins in a soothing motion all while he held your gaze.

“Where does it hurt?”  You moved a hand to rest over your belly, biting your lip when his eyes wandered down to watch as you rubbed it over your soft flesh.  “I know why it hurts there, belezza, and I know how to fix it.”

“How?” 

Secondo smiled, his fangs glinting in the light as he answered you. 

“You need to feed, my darling.” 

He turned and held a hand out behind him, reaching out into the shadows.  With bated breath you listened to the soft footfalls of a visitor as they moved closer to the bed.  A sister you hadn't seen before emerged into the light and you could taste her fear in the air.  Secondo wrapped an arm around their waste and tugged them hard enough they fell across his lap and over your legs. 

“Is she...is she for me?”

“Si, she’s yours.  Ripe and ready to help you complete your transformation.”   He reached for the poor girl’s neck and swept her hair aside.  “Sister Dana agreed to help you, right sister?”

When she didn’t answer, Secondo grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her neck back.  She cried out, a wounded noise escaping out of her throat at the treatment.  Before tonight you would have stepped in to reprimand Secondo.  You would have told him to stop playing with his food. 

But now you were too hungry to care.

You managed to sit up, finding it easy to ignore the pain when every cell in your body was screaming for the blood pumping through the sister’s veins.  Your hands flexed nervously in the bedding though, not sure what your first move should be.

“Would you like me to show you, belezza?”

All you could manage was a frantic nod, but Secondo didn’t seem to mind.  He leaned into the sister’s face and gave her a kiss on each cheek.  You could see her cheeks blushing from the attention, her mouth falling open when he dropped kisses down to her jaw.  He kept going until he was at her throat, right over her jugular.  Secondo murmured a few things in Italian before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into the poor girl’s neck.

“Papa!”

Her voice was loud and panicked, echoing around you.  She tried to say something else but the only other noise she could make was a garbled sob as her own blood filled her mouth.  Your stomach clenched painfully as you watched it drip down her lips and slide down her neck.  With a deep, animalistic growl Secondo pulled off and ran his tongue up to her jawline to collect the spilled blood.  The sister clawed at Secondo's chest, tears gathering in her eyes when all your Papa did was give her a cruel smile in return.

“Hush little lamb, you promised to be good.”   

You could tell his words weren’t registering.  A pained grimace had taken over her face as she struggled to breathe through the blood.  Secondo chuckled darkly before he leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.  After a few moments he held out his hand for you and you took it without a second thought, pulling yourself up and across the bed to press against his side.  Your eyes fell to her neck, to the blood pumping from the wound and you eagerly fell forward to lap at it.

It was amazing.  The taste of her blood slid across your tongue like wine.  It was warm and rich, coating the inside of your mouth before dripping down the back of your throat.  With a frantic moan you clutched her, pulling her away from Secondo to hold her more tightly against you.  He moved so he was at your back and you could feel his hands on your shoulders, feel as they slipped around your front to cup your breasts.  He pinched at your nipples, harder than usual but the pain was good, it was so good. You needed more of it. 

You sank your teeth into her flesh, feeling it tear as you bit at her harshly.  The wound easily opened wider and you started noisily sucking her blood down.  One of Secondo’s hands started moving down your stomach, his hands bare and smooth on your skin.  When he reached your cunt his chest vibrated against your back with a laugh.

“Wet for me already?”   

Without warning he pushed two fingers into your dripping entrance, groaning as your body eagerly accepted them.  You could hear the wet sounds of him pumping them in and out even as you continued to suck as much blood out of the sister as you could.  Secondo’s fingers started working faster, brushing against that spot inside of you he never failed to find.  In and out, over and over again.  Your orgasm was getting closer and closer and right as you teetered on the edge he pressed his mouth to your neck and bit down. 

The feeling of his teeth on you again made everything inside and around you shatter.  You pulled off the sister’s neck and fell back, letting Secondo catch you.  The sister fell backwards at the foot of the bed, her eyes blank and unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling.  There was blood still oozing from her mouth and neck, the sight making you growl and want more.  Secondo cooed into your ear, gently turning your head towards his and then capturing your mouth in a kiss.  He growled at the taste of blood there and the kiss turned sloppy as you each chased the blood smeared over each other.  With a deep groan he eventually pulled away, smiling softly at you before tilting his head towards the pillows. 

“You should get some more rest, my darling.”  

You pouted as you scooted back towards the head of the bed, you’d rather stay in his arms a little longer.  Both of you were now warm from the blood you had drank but it felt good to be in his arms regardless.  His face paint was now smeared and mixed with blood although it did nothing to hide his handsome features.  If anything it made you desire him even more now that he had finally turned you.  You felt yourself getting wet again as you took him in and you relaxed further back into the pillows, opening your legs a bit to try to entice him closer.  Secondo took a deep breath, a feral grin forming on his face.  He remained still though and you stuck your bottom lip out further, wondering what was stopping him.

“Secondo, come here.”

“One moment, belezza.”  He reached out for the sister, her chest barely moving with her shallow breaths.  You were surprised she was still alive, but as you watched Secondo lift her wrist to his mouth you figured that wouldn’t be the case for very long.  “We shouldn’t waste our breakfast.”

The softest of whimpers escaped the girl’s mouth when he bit into her again.  He was oddly gentle about it but that might have been because he was staring at you while he fed from her for the final time.  You held his eyes as you slid a hand down your chest, stroking over your breast before going further to your cunt.  His eyes followed your fingers as you started to tease at your clit, rubbing over it in tight circles as he watched.  When you moved down and slipped them inside of you he abruptly dropped the girl’s wrist, her blood dripping from his lips and dropping onto your ankles as he loomed over you.

“Such a naughty thing, teasing your Papa.”  

He leaned down and began to kiss your skin, his lips pressing into random spots all the way up to your thighs.  In the light you could see the bloody lip marks he was leaving, almost like lipstick, some with a hint of black from his face paint.  Secondo brought his hands up to the inside of your thighs and pressed them further apart so he could settle close to your cunt.  You were still moving your fingers inside of you and his eyes followed them, his hot breath grazing your skin as he moved his head closer.

“Secondo, please.”

You were ready for him to tease you some more, but in one swift movement he grabbed your wrist and pulled it away so his mouth could replace your fingers.  His deep groan as he tasted you vibrated through your whole body.  The grip he had on your thighs got tighter as he circled your entrance with his tongue a few times before dipping it in as far as he could.  When you were able to look down at him you could see where your juices had mixed with the blood and paint he was already wearing.  

Secondo looked absolutely feral as he hungrily licked and sucked your cunt.  You reached out with one hand and grabbed his head, your fingers sliding along his scalp for purchase.  He seemed to take the hint and buried his face even deeper against you, his nose pressing perfectly at your clit.  You were so close, so close to the edge again.  Gasps and whimpers were escaping you non stop as Secondo fucked you with his tongue.  You were about to start begging for something, for anything, to push you over when he finally moved his lips up to your clit, sucking on it right as he shoved two fingers inside of you.  He rubbed them along your walls perfectly right as he nipped your clit and you were gone, your whole body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there recovering, the only thing that made you finally stir was Secondo’s lips moving up your stomach.  When you mustered the energy to look down he was kissing you between your breasts.  The area around his mouth shone with your release and you let your head fall back with a groan.  He laughed against your skin, his breath exhaling on your neck as he continued to move up.  When he was finally hovering over you, his eyes bright with laughter and love, you couldn’t help but laugh as well.  You reached up and traced down the bridge of his nose before resting both your hands on his broad shoulders.

“Will it be like this forever?”

He grinned before leaning down and capturing your mouth in a kiss.  You mewled as you tasted yourself on his lips, especially when you caught just the slightest hint of blood lingering in his mouth.  When he pulled away and sat up to kneel between your legs you pouted at the loss of his mouth.  Secondo just grinned again and moved his hands under you to grip your ass and lift you off the bed.  You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct and he moved one of his hands to grip his cock.

“Are you ready for forever, belezza?”

Before you could respond he started pushing into you, relentless and without stopping.  His thick cock stretched you like his fingers never could and you reached out to dig your nails into his arms as the pleasure and pain rolled over you.  He didn’t stop until he was buried all the way, his hips flush with yours.  It was so good you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.  The thought of forever with Secondo, like this, was amazing.

“If forever means I get to wake up like this every day, then yes.”  

Secondo laughed as he gripped your waist tighter, easily lifting you up so he could start fucking you at the perfect angle.

“Anything you want, belezza.”  His pace increased, punishing and pleasurable, his mismatched eyes staring into yours as he fucked you.  “Anything.”

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[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.”

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[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)

[da-rulah]

Rubenesque - Secondo x F! Plus Size Reader

Summary: 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?

Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Fatphobic comments, low self esteem, sensual sex, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), body worship, p in v sex, creampie 

A/N: Yes, this is self-indulgent. Sue me. And whilst it is a plus size reader fic, anybody can still enjoy Artist Secondo who enjoys his women...

Disclaimer: The painting in the header has been modified using photoshop to edit out a creepy old man. It is a Rubens painting, named "The Hermit and the Sleeping Angellica". It's important to also note, Rubens never painted any scenes for the satanic church. This is fiction for this particular story.

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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.  

Except, you were finding it harder and harder to believe him in that regard. With the whispers of harsh siblings as you passed in the hall managing to reach your ears, you were struggling more and more to understand why you were one of Secondo’s favourite things at all. He was unaware of your harsh feelings towards yourself, let alone of the whispers in the halls. But then, now he spent most of his time in his art studio on the edge of the grounds, you weren’t surprised that he was oblivious to the going’s on in the Ministry. Now that his younger brother was running the show, he didn't have to meddle quite so much in the politics of the Clergy. He’d only get involved when they tried to undermine Terzo; something he would never stand for, no matter how much he aggravated him. The burden had been passed on, and after decades of devotion and servitude, he figured he’d earned a little respite. 

His studio was his sanctuary. Few were allowed to set foot inside; the exceptions being his brothers, and you, naturally. You still remember the first time he invited you in. It had been one of your first official dates, and he’d set up a quaint little dinner by candlelight surrounded by his art and tools, showing you a piece of him so heavily guarded from the outside world, lest they think he’d gone soft.  

The studio itself was rather beautiful. It had once been a greenhouse, ornate green iron housing panels of thick glass from floor to ceiling. The panes considered as walls were covered in old stained-glass patterns of every colour in the shape of intricate florals. It had belonged to Papa Primo before, but in his old age, he simply didn’t have the time to run multiple greenhouses, and chose to keep the ones he did work out of closer to the Abbey itself to save him the trouble of a long walk. But for Secondo, it was perfect.  

Now out of commission, the old greenhouse had been repurposed into his own studio. Shelves of pots had been replaced by blank canvases; racks of plants now saved for his supplies. He’d added a potter’s wheel and small kiln at some point too – one of his many artistic adventures that he revisited from time to time.  

But his chosen medium had always been oil paints. Despite his talents in clay sculpting, pottery, sketch work, watercolour - any and all of it - oil paints were the greatest weapon in his arsenal. Many of his paintings hung in the Ministry, amongst the art commissioned centuries ago by various painters of the Renaissance and Baroque eras. Some of these painters had been commissioned to do large pieces in Catholic places of worship too, but had been swayed by the money and a promise of a life free from judgement to paint beautifully dark imagery throughout.  

Secondo’s oil paintings fit right in, his style similar to the artists he’d admired for much of his life. His subject matter varied, from beautiful scenes of sin, to intricate studies of the human form, to landscapes and still life. You adored his work, finding yourself having to rotate the canvases you hung in your quarters when he’d gift you a new one every so often.  

As Secondo spent the summer evening on the finer details of a scene from the Book of Revelations, the sun had begun to illuminate the colours of the stained glass with a warmth that cascaded over the stone floors. When you’d quietly entered into the studio so as not to disturb his focus, you were struck yet again by the beauty of his hideout.  

The coloured rays of light cascaded over your lover, stood at his easel without any acknowledgement of your arrival. How one man could look so dreamy, as if he’d been plucked from the most romantic of novels, was beyond you. You could only see him from behind, but it didn’t go unnoticed how his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the fabric stretching over his thick arms and solid back and tucked into his slacks. His apron was tied around his waist, pulling him in and showcasing a strong torso that Pythagoras himself would theorise about.  

Secondo was an artwork you wished you could paint and immortalise yourself. But you’d have to settle for committing this to memory instead as you approached where he stood, pulling a stool from a workbench and gently setting it down beside him.  

“Buonasera, amore mio,” he greeted as you sat, never taking his eyes from the canvas as his fingers handled his brush so carefully.  

“That’s beautiful,” you told him honestly, eyes scanning the half-finished work of the Whore of Babylon atop her beast of seven heads.  

Secondo smiled, his eyes flicking to the side to look at you briefly as he muttered a “grazie.” He continued the detail he was trying to finish, the two of you settling into comfortable silence. You hadn’t come here to chat, anyway – more to escape, than anything. You had once again heard harsh whispers of cruel siblings as you’d passed them in the halls not twenty minutes before deciding to find Secondo, and you weren’t sure you could take anymore today. You simply wanted his company. 

“I may need your assistance soon, mia musa (my muse),” he announced after a few moments of quiet. “I will finish this soon, and I need some... inspiration,” he paused to smirk back at you momentarily, “for my next work.”  

“What could I help with?” you asked, your tone somewhat dejected. Secondo stilled, his brow creasing as his head tilted slightly in your direction enough to be able to study you. If you’d been looking at him instead of your fingers in your lap, you’d have seen the way he squinted at you, noticing everything.  

“I want to paint you, mia musa,” he explained so gently, reaching towards you to tilt your chin up to him. When he met your eyes, he knew instantly something was the matter; you never avoided his gaze like that. 

“I wouldn’t make a very good subject matter...” you shook your head, standing up and wandering over to the rack of finished canvases Secondo was yet to do anything with. You looked through them, your mind elsewhere unable to really take in the art itself.  

Secondo studied you from his easel, watching with concerned curiosity. Something wasn’t right; that was incredibly obvious to him. He’d known you long enough and intimately enough to know that you weren’t yourself. And it didn’t sit right with him that you were putting yourself down either.  

You ran your fingertips over the tops of a particular art piece of his, feeling the texture of dried paint as your thoughts raced through every comment you’d heard through the halls since your relationship with Secondo had gone public. Such hurtful things about you and how you looked... 

“At least Papa Secondo is strong - he’ll need to be...” 

“I know... he could have his pick of sisters, and he chose her?”  

The laughter and digs at your body rattled around in your head; so much so, that you weren’t aware that Secondo had noticed at all until two strong arms were wrapping themselves around your waist from behind you, his unusually bare palms flattening against your stomach which had you recoiling instinctively. Secondo’s hold on you loosened, his hands hovering around you instead as he tried to work out what he’d done wrong. 

“Amore, I-” 

“I’m uh... I’m sorry, just...” you back peddled, trying to find an excuse for how you were acting that wouldn’t result in more questions, but you had nothing. Instead, you slid out from between him and the rack in front of you, back to his easel to find something to occupy your hands and avoid further conversation. You’d come here to watch him work in silence, to avoid people yet to not feel alone. You didn’t want to talk about this and make it into a bigger deal than it was. 

But Secondo watched you still, feeling oddly rejected for the first time with you. You’d never refused his touch before, never run away from him before. He could only imagine he might have said or done something wrong... Perhaps he was spending too much of his attention on his art and not on you. But that had never been an issue before – he’d always made such an effort to balance his affections.  

He took a few steps towards you, slowly like he was testing the waters, but you could barely even look at him, studying his half-finished painting instead as your cheeks began to ache from holding back unshed tears.  

“Have... Have I upset you, amore?” he asked cautiously, keeping his distance if that’s what you wanted. You pressed your lips together hard, taking a deep breath in and shaking your head. “You can tell me, I won’t be angry. I’d like to know so I could correct it-” 

“You haven’t,” you interrupted him, still focussed on the painting as one pesky little tear dripped down your cheek. With such a keen eye for detail, he noticed immediately, and his chest tightened. He was at your side in just a few quick strides. 

“Amore, what is it?” he asked, frantic but being so gentle with you as if he’d break you with a simple touch. His fingertips once again guided your chin to look at him, and when you saw the concern and fear in his eyes you could hardly hold up the dam anymore. 

You tried to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. You didn’t want him to worry, and you knew if you told him everything, he’d want names. But now the tears were flowing, it made speaking all that much harder. Secondo waited patiently, wiping at the tears as they fell with the pads of his thumbs.  

“I just... I’m not sure I understand why... you’re attracted to me,” you hiccupped, your shoulders shaking, eyes trained on your feet. Secondo was taken aback... Why wouldn’t he be attracted to you? 

“Amore, you... you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on, what are you talking about? Have I not been making you feel so?” he panicked, immediately thinking perhaps he had been neglecting you in some way. But surely not, he told you how beautiful you were at least once a day in some shape or form. And it wasn’t as if your sex life together had been dwindling...  

“N-no, I know you are attracted to me, I just... Don’t understand why,” you sniffled, meeting his eyes. “Nobody else would-” 

“Why does anybody else matter?” That stumped you. You couldn’t explain yourself without informing him of what he didn’t hear himself when he spent his days in his studio, away from the whispers. You didn’t have much choice, here... 

“They... they talk,” you mumbled.  

“Who?” 

“The siblings. They whisper, they believe you deserve better, they don’t understand why you would pick me.”  

Secondo’s face darkened, the hard lines of a lifetime of stress forming deeper crevices across his brow. He was infuriated to know that members of his own congregation could be so narrow minded, despite the decades of teachings of what beauty meant and learning to accept anybody and everybody, no matter who they are or how they looked... But above that, he was enraged at the thought they were hurting you. He would find them and tear them a new asshole – but his first and only concern was you. 

“There is not a single thing about you that isn’t beautiful, amore. Do you not see it?” That only made you cry harder, because no, you didn’t see it. You had struggled with your body image for so long, and while you did your best to tell yourself you were beautiful despite your hang ups about your weight, you’d never come to love yourself in the way you intended.  

“I just... I struggle to see how all this,” you gestured to your body, “is beautiful. It’s not easy when the world is constantly telling you your body is wrong,” you cried. Secondo had no idea of the years of torment you’d faced at the hands of your peers, no matter where in life you found yourself. Beauty standards had plagued you for the longest time, and it constantly chipped away at the shred of self-confidence you had.  

Secondo stepped closer to you, an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer as he wiped your tears again. “There is nothing wrong about your body, mia musa. You are un'opera d'arte (a work of art), no?”  

He was doing his best to comfort you, to tell you how exquisite you were but he could tell in the way you looked away from him with a small shake of your head that you didn’t believe it. All those years of being told your body wasn’t attractive had worn you down, and now you were hearing it all over again in the one place you should be able to feel truly comfortable. Secondo wouldn’t stand for it.  

The arm around your waist dropped to untie his apron, lifting it from over his head and throwing it down onto the stool he’d been working from. Then he threaded his fingers through yours, with a tight and reassuring grasp. “Come with me,” he told you, giving your hand a light tug as he stepped back. You followed him, allowing him to walk you out of the studio and through the gardens towards the Abbey. Panic washed over you, thinking he was taking you to confront the siblings in question. 

“Secondo, I don’t want to talk to them-” 

“That’s not where we’re going,” he assured you, “but they will be dealt with.” His protectiveness of you made your chest ache. How did this man adore you this much? You may never know.  

The grounds were relatively deserted. The sun was dipping below the mountainous horizon, casting a deeper orange glow over the Ministry and signalling the end of another day. The majority of Siblings were busy with their own lives, spending their downtime in the mess hall or in their dorms. A few stragglers were walking through the halls, including a couple of the siblings who’d whispered such cruel things to you.  

Secondo felt your hand squeeze his momentarily, and when he looked, he saw the look of embarrassment on your face as you walked towards them. He put two and two together very quickly when the siblings in question watched on, staring at you with amused little smiles. As Secondo marched you down the hall, his glare stuck on them and the moment they looked at his face, their smiles fell to looks of fear. Even as he walked you past where they stood, he stared with a look of thunder that chilled each of them to the bone - and rightly so.  

But he kept walking, until he stopped outside the large doors to the chapel. He dropped your hand only to open the heavy door and push it open.  

Inside the chapel, a handful of siblings were busy replacing candles and reordering the pew cushions as were their duties after any kind of service. At the sound of the heavy door creaking at the top of the aisle, all of their heads whipped around and stared in confusion between you and Secondo. He ushered you inside and held the door open as he turned to the siblings. 

“Out,” he ordered, his face stern and in no way amused by the puzzled looked the siblings shared between them. No one moved, looking around at the jobs that were yet to be done around the chapel.  

“B-but, Papa... we still have to-” one of them stuttered, Secondo’s mere presence and demeanour enough to have the poor soul on edge.  

“OUT!” he yelled, startling even you who jumped beside him. The siblings didn’t argue, knowing better than to stick around and hurried out of the door past the two of you. Once the last sibling had scurried out, Secondo closed the door with a heavy slam, pulling the wooden plank down that bolted it shut from inside. 

He walked around the pews towards the edge of the Chapel, stopping in front of one of the murals that had been painted centuries ago. He gazed up at it, before looking back at you and holding out his hand for you to join him. You did so with caution; not because you were scared of him, more so plagued by your own insecurity than anything. But when you approached his side and placed your hand in his, he held it so gently, guiding you closer to his side. Now stood shoulder to shoulder, you followed his gaze to the beautiful artwork on the wall that Secondo himself had worked to restore and keep in perfect condition since he was a young man.  

“What do you see, when you look at this?” he asked with tenderness, leaning down but never taking his eyes off the painting, “what do you notice?” 

You studied the images in front of you; a large scene of the Garden of Eden that differed from the traditional depictions. In this scene, it was Adam who was eating the apple, the Devil’s serpent coiled around a branch above Eve’s head. It showed the truth of that long-standing story, falsely peddled and passed down through centuries. Adam had been the one to sin, and lied to protect himself. The apple had become stuck in Adam’s throat as he lied to his God, hence the anatomical term ‘Adam’s apple’ that only men are born with. Eve sat on the roots of the large tree, weeping at Adam’s betrayal. She had played no part in this sin, and yet, she was to be blamed for it; but even that was not the first injustice of a patriarchy.  

“It’s... Adam’s betrayal. I see a woman scorned and forced to carry a burden of centuries of judgement,” you told him, feeling almost like a student being quizzed by her professor. You wanted to get the right answer, even if art was subjective.  

“Eve looks beautiful, no?” he asked, waving his hand in her general direction. 

“Of course,” you told him, her ethereal presence highlighted with gentle pastel colours, her body on display as she wept on the large tree roots in a way that could only be described as elegant. Eve was one of the first of many scapegoats throughout the teachings of the Bible, and yet, not the first woman to have been cast from the Garden of Eden. Another painting on the opposite side of the Chapel depicted that first woman; Lilith.  

Secondo turned around, again guiding you by the hand to the other side of the large Chapel where her painting resided. Her scene showed her expulsion from the Garden of Eden long before Eve was created from Adam’s rib. Lilith was Adam’s equal, his first wife, born of the same soil as him. And yet, because she didn’t obey Adam, she was cast out.  

Again, this was how the Bible would describe Lilith; rogue, disobedient and evil. But this was merely a patriarchal fantasy, her story twisted and moulded into a lie through generations. Truthfully, Adam believed Lilith should lie beneath him during the marital act – sex – but Lilith had disagreed, stating they were of the same soil, the same earth and were equal. She should not have to lie beneath him at all. That is what got her cast out of the Garden.  

In her scene, she looks freed. There is no weeping, no remorse. She looks strong and independent, marching her way towards the fallen Angel known as Lucifer to begin her work with him; as his equal. Her painting is a triumph, and she looks as beautiful as you had always seen her.  

“And what do you notice here?” Secondo asked, his tone still so calm and tranquil, how he always spoke of his beloved art.  

“I... I see Lilith, marching towards her truth and forging her own identity.” 

“And she looks beautiful too, does she not?”  

“Well yes, of course,” you agreed without hesitation, but you were confused as to his point.  

“These women – these two symbols of our very existence – do you notice what they have in common, amore mio?” 

“Adam’s betrayal,” you scoffed. Secondo smirked. 

“Well, sí, sí, but... I mean to look beyond the meaning of the scene itself, and look solely at them, their form.”  

You looked behind you back at the painting on the other wall, scanning Eve before turning back to Lilith to find the similarities. But you were at a loss. Different hair colours, slightly different skin tones, different coloured eyes. 

“I don’t follow?” you admitted, feeling a little silly for not understanding.  

“You say they are beautiful, sí? And of course, hai ragione (you are right). But,” he stopped, stepping closer to the painting and reaching his fingertips out to trace the nude body of Lilith, having you look closer. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper, and said, “their bodies, amore... Do you not see?”   

His fingertips continued to trace the artwork, every beautiful curve of Lilith’s figure, unashamedly thicker like her flesh would ripple if the painting came to life. Secondo looked back to you, a softness in his eyes as he watched it dawn on you. You’d never noticed before, never questioned it but now that you were looking around at all of the artwork in the chapel, you noticed more and more that the prominent women, the ones whose beauty and power are marvelled within your religion, looked like you... 

Your eyes glossed over with emotion; how had you missed that? The very essence of beauty, and their bodies were nourished, full and spectacularly curvy. They were voluptuous and had always been revered throughout time as soft, feminine figures of power.  

“These paintings, amore, were all commissioned by a painter known as Peter Paul Rubens. Do you know of him?” he asked, turning his back to the painting to stand in front of you, still holding your hand. You shook your head, pressing your lips together in the fight to keep your cheeks dry. “He is very famous for how he painted women. He enjoyed the larger women; more of them meant more beauty to paint. And people worshipped the women in his paintings, fawned over them. He became so famous for his portrayal of beauty, that there is a term for a thicker, healthy, beautiful woman such as you, mio dolce...” 

He took a step closer to you, his free hand brushing strands of hair you’d let fall to conceal your face away behind your ear, so he could see you in all your beauty. The softness in his eyes he reserved only for you forced a stutter in your pulse, seeing the adoration he never tried to mask since the moment he’d met you when you joined the Ministry months ago.  

And then he leaned forward, his hand slipping to the back of your neck to keep you gently in place while he brought his lips to your ear, and whispered, “Rubenesque...” 

Your hand squeezed his in a visceral response, something you couldn’t control. Secondo lingered there, completely consuming your personal space as he was always so welcome to do.  

“Dolcezza, you have been mia musa since the moment I laid eyes on you. If I could not have you, then I knew I at least needed to paint you – over and over again, if you would allow me.” As he spoke, the hand holding the back of your neck began to trail down your spine, making a beeline for your waist where he gripped a handful of your body and gently squeezed. “You instantly reminded me of all of my most treasured art pieces, an amalgamation of the strength, power and elegance of all the women in paintings I had studied for decades.” 

He dropped his chin to press light kisses to just below your ear, still whispering his adoration of you as they travelled over what little skin was exposed. 

“When you walked into this Ministry, I was so sure you had walked right out of a Rubens painting, that you could not possibly be real.” More kisses, his lips tickling your skin with every word in between. “That you had somehow been sent here for me alone. And then...” more kisses, his chest now pressing against you while your hand in his at your side tightened in arousal, “you indulged me... You sat for your first painting, so shy and timid with the most intoxicating pink blush to your cheeks. I tried to remain professionale, to focus on the art but... my mind wandered so freely.” Just like his hand was now. From your waist, it wound its way around your hip and down your thigh, pushing back to trail up the back of your thigh to the swell of your buttocks.  

You cast your mind back to that first sitting, before Secondo had truly shown any interest in you. You assumed you were simply sitting for a painting, that he asked various people to do so throughout the Ministry. And whilst he had on the odd occasion, it was never for a piece as intimate as that...  

He’d been so gentlemanly in his invitation, setting up part of his studio with a chaise longue and allowing you the time you needed to feel comfortable. He’d left you to undress and replace your clothes with a robe, shown you how he had pictured your pose and then allowed you your privacy again to disrobe and drape the chiffon fabric across you in a way that made you as comfortable as possible. There was no requirement to be completely on display – his only request had been that you were comfortable showing as much of your body as you chose.  

“If I had thought before then that I wanted you, the way that I craved you after that moment, mia musa...” Secondo’s voice remained low and deep as he stepped around you, keeping his lips hovering by your ear as he took up his position behind you. He dropped your hand in his in favour of holding you steady by your waist, softly gripping at the flesh there. Naturally, you sank into him, pressing your back to his strong chest and extending your neck to allow his lips to ghost over the skin.  

“It was truly a test of my self discipline to have you sit for me. But I had just been gifted the most beautiful art to work with and I was petrified to lose it if I had made my move then. And then...” His arms wrapped further around your body, strong, paint covered hands sliding around you like boa constrictors. One arm crossed over to grip the opposite hip, while the other, crossed your chest to knead gently at your breast. “You made me fall disperatamente innamorato di te (desperately in love with you.” 

Your head was swimming with Secondo. All of this, you had known to some degree but to hear him truly spill confessions while his hands were all over you felt like the most erotic experience you’d ever encountered. His breath felt hot against your exposed throat, radiating through your entire body and setting it alight. All you could do was cover his hands with your own and get lost in his touch.  

“I remember the first time I touched you, amore... The smallest, most innocent of touches... During your third sitting, I had to angle your chin to match the work in progress and you were so soft...” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Secondo too was lost in his imagination. And that he was, his eyes shut as he touched you, recounting those early memories with you. “Your eyes were so wide, glistening orbs of innocence and nervousness. I could stand it no more... I had to have you. I had never needed anything so much in my life, dolcezza... To taste your lips, to feel how soft you were beneath the fabric.” 

You remembered the way he’d looked at you in that moment, like he was fighting for his damn life inside his head to keep away from you. He’d stared at your lips for too long, and when he’d met your eyes again and saw no hint of you backing away, he had lost his control. That was the first time Secondo had you.  

The hand kneading at your breast travelled further up your chest to your neck, his thumb reaching to tilt your chin up towards him so he could look you in the eye. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, desperate to keep him close.  

“Satan himself blessed me with a woman such as you, mia musa...” he breathed with hooded eyes as if he were drunk on you, and without giving you any time at all to argue or respond in any way, his lips came crashing down on yours with a lust that neither of you had ever felt for another soul in all your years.  

He held you upright when he felt you melt too far into him, succumbing to his kiss with ease. You couldn’t help yourself, consumed by his very being and already so tightly wound up from his teasing touches and admission of the extent of his obsession with you. This man was as desperate for you as you were for him and it didn’t matter if you understood the reasons why or not; you simply accepted then and there that he was, that to him, you were the most beautiful creature to have graced his world.  

Lips and tongues clashed together without rhyme nor reason, moans lost to each other’s mouths as you lost yourselves also. His hands roamed your body as he held you against him, his grabs a little harsher, needier now. You could feel his hard chest and soft stomach pressing tightly against your back, a bulge that had long since begun stirring nestling between the cheeks of your backside. You could feel that heat inside you building to unbearable temperatures, the need to have him doubling with each second that passed.  

Using all the strength you could muster, you ripped his hands away from you just enough to spin in his arms, gripping him by his shirt and pulling him into you for another heated kiss. In an instant, his hands were back on you, fisting handfuls of your body as he pulled you tightly into him, his chest rumbling low in satisfaction.  

“Secondo...” you moaned, his name coming out as a whisper against his lips.  

“Sí, mia musa?” He nuzzled his nose against yours, leaving brief but frequent kisses to your lips as he waited for you to speak and tell him what you needed from him.  

“Take me to bed...” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him again, “Please?”  

Secondo chuckled devilishly when you asked so sweetly to dive headfirst into sin. Knowing what you were truly like when he would have his way with you, he always found it so amusing that you were so polite and demure otherwise. He revelled in the idea that it was only him who saw your untamed side.  

“To bed, dolcezza?” he questioned, teasing his fingertips along the edge of your jaw until he was low enough to tilt your chin up to him. “But we worship right here, in the Chapel, no?” 

The smirk that spread across his face sent a shiver of delight down your spine. Was he suggesting...? 

Before you had any time to question him, he began walking backwards, gripping your hands in his to pull you along. He pulled you through the pews to the centre aisle, then began to back up towards the Sanctuary steps that lead to the Altar at the head of the Chapel. As he did, he jolted you closer, attaching his lips to yours and carefully manoeuvring you both while he stayed attached to you, keeping the burning embers of arousal stoked.  

When he reached the steps he spun you around, pushing you to step up them until he sat you down on the middle step. Then he dropped to his knees on the stone as if he were about to pray at your feet. He crawled his way up the steps between your knees, forcing you to lay back as he hovered above you, his hands all over your thighs like he couldn’t bare not to touch you. 

“One day, mia musa, I will paint you naked as the Dark Lord intended, laying on these steps...” he promised, his lips tickling yours as they barely grazed them, teasing you. “And I intend to draw from memory...” 

With that, he pushed the hem of your habit up and over your thighs, fingertips pressing into the supple flesh as he enjoyed every inch of you. He popped the buttons that hid your chest from him, pushing the fabric from your shoulders and arms until he could drag it all from your body, helping you to shimmy from the skirt and kick it from your legs. He was wasting no time at all, attaching his lips to your collarbone and suckling marks into the skin while he worked quickly to take your underwear from you too until you were just as he’d wanted you; naked as the Dark Lord intended. 

Just as his hands had roamed your skin, his lips now followed suit. Every inch of your glorious chest was being suckled at, nipped at, like a starved man. He was careful to pay close attention to your nipples, hardened not simply from arousal alone, but the slight chill in the air within the stone walls of the ancient Chapel. But with Secondo crowding you, riling your body up so, you barely noticed, heat instead continuing to burn from within.  

Secondo growled into your flesh at the sound of your moans, truly worshipping you like a deity. “Tu sei fottutamente delizioso (You are fucking delicious),” he roared, ripping his lips from your body only to attach them to yours again with hunger. As he lapped his tongue into your mouth, his hand disappeared between your thighs, heading straight for your core with no hesitation. He needed more of those moans and fast, wanting to hear you sing for him. He’d take your song over the choir’s in this Chapel any day.  

Just as he’d wished, you cried out into his mouth, unable to hold back as pleasure shot through your core the second his fingertips dragged over your clit. You fell back against the steps, your arms spread out either side of you onto the red carpet runner. Secondo chased you, never letting you get far away enough from him to not feel his hot mouth on you somewhere.  

“Tell me, amore mio, may I indulge in the communion wine?” he asked. You had no idea what he was talking about, too lost to the pleasure his fingers were giving you to put two and two together, but you nodded anyway; you’d let him do just about anything to you, the state he’d got you in so far. “Grazie mille,” he thanked, as if you would ever truly deny him.  

He pushed himself upright, only to crawl back down to the bottom step. His fingers lost contact with your core but just as quick as they had disappeared, his tongue replaced them. You couldn’t help but sing for him yet again.  

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lost yourself against the steps. At this angle, he could barely see your head thrown back over the delectable sight of your wonderful body, and it only drove him further into ferality. You would never appreciate this sight as he could, watching your body as it moved in ripples with every sensitive jolt and contraction of muscles. He could see your responses to his tongue all over, like echoes emanating from your centre.  

When he inserted two of his fingers inside you to compliment the work his mouth was doing to your clit, your head jerked up, eyes meeting his. Seeing the hunger in his eyes peeking above the curve of your stomach had you clenching around his fingers, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from you. Immediately, you felt Secondo lap it up, humming at the taste while his eyes fluttered shut.  

“S-Secondo... I...” You wanted to tell him how incredible you felt, how close you were to your undoing already but the words never came, stuck in your throat thanks to his fingers curling inside you to hit the spot he’d memorised that first time he’d slept with you.  

His free arm wrapped its way around your thigh, pulling it over his shoulder to surround himself with you. He loved that feeling, being encased in your gorgeous body as he pleasured you; he’d easily lose himself there. As your moans grew louder, reverberating off the stone walls, Secondo seemed to muster more energy to barrel you towards your undoing. What was fuelling him, you weren’t sure, but you were more than grateful for it. Perhaps it was the anger from before at the comments of your peers. Maybe it was the thought of defiling you on the Sanctuary steps. Maybe he had riled himself up so damn much talking about how much he adored you, how attracted to you he was that he couldn’t help himself.  

The only thing you knew for sure, was that he was making good on his word; he was worshipping you.  

It took mere minutes for him to have you dangling on the edge of sanity, your moans so high pitched he knew you were about to snap. He watched you again, his eyes staring up at you. It wasn’t until you looked down at him again and made such exquisite eye contact that you snapped, too turned on to hold off anymore.  

Your body convulsed as your orgasm hit you, back arching from the steps beneath you, body shaking. You gasped, lungs filling with too much air and stopping any sound from leaving your body. Your eyes rolled back into your head, completely overcome as Secondo didn’t let up. He knew better than to slow down now, letting you ride your orgasm out. He ground your hips into his face, using that delicious nose of his to his advantage until he was completely buried in you, smudging your inner thighs with his face paints.  

As you came back down, your body twitching under him, he made sure to clean you up, lapping up every drop of your essence he could despite your whimpers of oversensitivity. You reached a point where your clit was just too sensitive, throbbing under his tongue, and you had to push him away from you. But you hated the idea of rejecting him in any way, and so you dragged him back up to you by his collar to smash your lips to his breathlessly. You didn’t miss the flavour on his tongue, knowing that was your essence only driving you to absolute distraction...  

“You’re... wearing... too many... clothes...” you told him between kisses and deep breaths. He only grinned into your kisses.  

“Mi dispiace, amore,” he apologised with a smirk, immediately rectifying the issue as he untucked his shirt from his slack, unbuttoning the buttons and throwing it to the side with your habit and underwear. You couldn’t help but lay back on your elbows on the steps, watching as he undressed, enjoying the view. Such strong arms, a solid chest, and a soft stomach, all deliciously covered in a layer of black and grey hair; arousal began to stir again within you... 

“I am supposed to be worshipping you, amore mio...” he smirked, a cockiness glinting in his eyes.  

“I'm not stopping you,” you teased, spreading your legs a little wider and arching an eyebrow at him in invitation. As he threw his slacks and underwear to the side, you caught him licking his lips as his eyes dragged over you, waiting for him on the steps...  

Unholy shit, you were sublime, with your flushed cheeks and forehead glistening with sweat... With your beautiful curves and soft skin... He would never tire of you. Never.  

He couldn’t help himself then, crawling over you and dipping his head down to initiate yet another moment of passion with a sordid kiss. It seems he was unable to keep his hands to himself, wanting nothing more than to feel you, but more importantly, to make sure you knew he wanted you. After today, all he wanted was to make you feel wanted, appreciated, fucking deified. He was certainly doing his part.  

The longer he made out with you, the more you needed him... You could feel his length pressing against you and it was driving you mad being so close, yet so far from what you wanted. To encourage him, you reached your hand between the two of you, wrapping your fingers around his tip and paying particular attention to the frenum piercing of his you loved so damn much, sitting on the underside of his cock.  

At your touch, his lips parted, a low hum vibrating in his throat. It was as if you were taunting a beast within him, the animal poised and ready to pounce. And pounce he would, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them to the steps above your head.  

“You want my cock, dolcezza?” he teased, his lips so close but just out of reach no matter how far forward you tried to lean. “So keen to be fucked on the Sanctuary steps, eh?”  

He wouldn’t let you answer, instead shuffling so he was lined up perfectly between your legs, rolling his hips against you to coat his shaft with your essence. You could feel the ridges of his veins and that fucking piercing at they caught on your clit, still sensitive but the stimulation bearable now.  

“Worship me, Papa...” you whispered the order, catching him off guard. His eyes widened for just a moment, and there was no way he could deny you...  

Trapping your wrists in one of his hands, he used his free hand to guide himself to your entrance, sinking into you in one fluid motion. Secondo breathed out a long breath through his nose, humming again as your heat consumed him. You felt everything, every ridge yet again, filling you deliciously in the way his fingers never could. They were no match for his thickness and length, reaching places you’d been unaware of before him.  

When every inch had sunk deep inside you, his hips pressed flush against your own, he dove into you for a deep, hungry kiss. Like he couldn’t stop himself, his hips dragged back and slammed into you, the slapping sound echoing through the Chapel. And after that, he wouldn’t relent, repeating the same motion over and over again, slamming his hips into you as he grunted his pleasure into your mouth.  

Eventually he let your wrists go in favour of grabbing at your body again, kneading it like pizza dough with love and adoration. You held his head in place, whimpering into his kisses every time his cock slid inside you. He lifted your thigh to his hip, deriving a better angle to rock up and hit where you needed him.  

“Sei la mia opera d'arte preferita, una cazzo di dea che prende vita, (You are my favourite artwork, a fucking Goddess come to life,)” he spewed his words quickly, his brain unable to translate to English quick enough to spill his thoughts. You understood him just fine, his confession having you clench on his length. He roared in pleasure at the feeling, barrelling toward a climax.  

“S-Secondo please...” you begged, “’m gonna cum again.” 

“You’d better, dolcezza. I will not leave mia musa unsatisfied on the steps, eh?” he promised, the hand that was kneading at your breast dipping down to press flat against your stomach, fingertips digging into the softness and thumb dragging over your clit again.  

It didn’t take much now that he’d added more stimulation, and you were coming undone in no time at all... Your walls clenched around him so incredibly tight, body curling up into him until his face was pressed into the crook of your neck, his chest cushioned by your voluptuous body. You spluttered out a litany of curses and his name like a chant at Black Mass, filling the Chapel’s empty hall.  

Everything became too much for him too, biting down on your neck and growling into it while his rhythm faltered, and his cock shot load after load of his spend deep inside you. His grip on your body tightened, pulling him closer to you as the two of you shook and convulsed from your respective orgasms, overcome with pleasure.  

“Y-You are a dream, mia musa...” Secondo panted above you, removing the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat and tucking it behind your ear. “Don’t ever forget that, eh?” You could only nod, your mind still very much hazy in post-climax bliss.  

“I couldn’t give any less of a fuck what the other fottuti idioti (fucking idiots) think of our relationship, you understand? You must never forget, you are the beauty standard to the greatest artists in history,” he assured you, peppering gentle kisses to your neck, your cheeks, your lips – anywhere he could.  

“Including you,” you complimented with a smirk, catching his gaze with heavy eyes, drowsiness overcoming you. Secondo chuckled, shaking his head.  

“Including me,” he repeated, “If you say so...”  

“I do,” you told him earnestly, “Nobody has ever made me feel as beautiful as you do when you paint me, my love.” You cradled his head in your hands, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself out of shyness.  

“Ah. Then I simply have to paint you more... What a shame,” he teased with playful sarcasm, a grin spanning across his very smudged face as he leaned in to plant a slow, loving kiss to your lips.  

[call-me-lizbeth]

🦇✨ So I had requests to show off more detail of this mourning dress I made on my 1916 treadle sewing machine inspired by the LA Ghoulettes from Rite Here Rite Now, so here are some better pics showing more up close details of the crochet, lace, and even the bustle and train on the back of the dress! 🥹 Thank you all so much for your kind words and support on my previous post (the debut of this dress!) and I greatly appreciate everybody in the Ghost fandom community! You guys are awesome! 💀

As always, please DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE, please only reblog with credit, thank you so much! 🥹🫶

[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-

Hotel California (Young!Sister Imperator x Young!Mr Psaltarian)

Mary On A Cross (Young!Sister Imperator x Young!Mr Psaltarian)

-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)

Era 4/5 Ghouls/Ghoulettes Social Structure Headcanons

A Growing Pack (Mountain x Aurora)

-Full Length Fics-

None so far...

-

[bupia]

Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)

Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.

Words: 26.401

Warnings: Light Angst (insecurity) | Fluff | Smut (teasing; cunnilingus; fingering; oral sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing | Reader is described as AFAB, but "Deacon" is used as Gender Neutral term.

Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters

A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.

"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.

Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.

Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.

"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.

Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.

You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"

"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sì?"

You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.

You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"

"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.

"And what about the Clergy today?"

"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."

A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."

Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.

"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.

You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.

Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.

"What!?"

Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."

Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.

Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.

At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.

Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.

"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.

"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."

"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."

"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.

"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.

"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.

"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.

"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.

"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."

"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"

"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.

"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"

He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sì?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.

You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.

Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.

As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.

You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.

"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.

As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.

Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.

"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.

Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"

"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.

His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.

"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.

He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.

You nodded.

"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.

"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.

"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.

"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"

"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.

You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.

"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."

"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."

He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."

You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."

He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."

You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"

He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."

He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"

"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"

You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."

He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"

"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"

"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.

"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.

"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."

You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."

"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"

He huffed, crossing his arms. “I also have a passion for cooking.”

"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.

"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"

He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."

You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cu–better!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"

"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."

"That's interesting," you smiled at him.

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"

His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."

You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.

Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."

Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.

For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.

"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.

You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."

He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"

You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."

He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"

You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.

You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.

As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.

"Ok, my time now! What’s your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.

"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."

Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"

He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."

You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"

"More times than we’d like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.

"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.

He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."

A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"

Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."

You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."

He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"

"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sì? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."

You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.

"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.

"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.

He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."

"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"

Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."

You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."

Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"

"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.

"Will you share them with me?"

"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."

He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sì?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."

"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.

"Sì, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."

"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.

You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"

"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.

"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.

Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.

"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."

"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.

You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.

"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."

"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."

"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"

"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."

Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."

You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."

Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."

You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."

He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."

"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."

Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.

"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.

You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.

The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.

"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.

Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."

"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.

"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.

"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.

Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"

"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."

Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."

The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.

Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.

In other words, you knew him.

As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.

You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.

"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.

"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.

You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"

"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.

"Secondo..."

"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."

You shifted closer. “I get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.”

He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. “It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “at least it keeps things interesting.”

"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.

"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."

He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."

You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."

Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"

"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.

Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.

“Back to the usual, I suppose,” Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.

You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. “The Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.”

"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. “Shall we return to the office, Deacon? There’s more work to be done.”

You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.

As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morning’s hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondo’s gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.

Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.

With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.

"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.

He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."

"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.

"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"

"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"

He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."

"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"

"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."

A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."

He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sí?"

You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.

Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.

Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.

The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.

Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.

As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."

"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.

The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.

Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.

"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.

He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.

You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.

"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.

"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.

"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.

Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.

You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.

As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.

"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhaps—"

Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"

The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this — ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."

Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"

"But, Deacon—" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.

You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."

He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.

As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.

Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.

As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.

"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.

"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.

He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.

"Why are you picking out a shirt?"

"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.

A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"

He sighed, arching a brow. "Sì"

"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.

"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.

Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"

"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.

Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."

Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.

Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.

"Are you hungry?" he inquired.

"A little bit," you admitted.

"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.

Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."

Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.

As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.

"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."

Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.

"It's good, sì?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."

As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.

You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.

Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.

You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"

"Sì, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."

Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."

"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.

Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,” Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. “But I called you here to make sure I’ve still got the charm.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Charm? Is that what you call it?”

He grinned, “Well, you haven’t run away yet, so it must be working, sì?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful banter. “I have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, what’s the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?”

Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"

You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."

"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.

"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."

"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."

You chuckled, appreciating Secondo’s protective tone. “No need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, it’s part of the job.”

He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. “I still don’t like it. You shouldn’t be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.”

You responded with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really. Now, back to our ‘typical date talk.’ If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.”

A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."

"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.

"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."

"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.

Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. “Of course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.”

You nodded, understanding. “So, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"

Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"

He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."

He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."

You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.

“Perhaps,” Secondo began, his voice softer, “we could do this again sometime.”

You nodded. “Of course, I'd love to.”

The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.

As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.

Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.

Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.

Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.

"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.

Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"

"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"

"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"

"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.

"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."

"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.

"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin

"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.

"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.

With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."

"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.

He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"

With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."

"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.

He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."

You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.

"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.

"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to me—dedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."

His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.

"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.

Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.

"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.

"It depends," he whispered back.

The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.

"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."

As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.

Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.

Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.

You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.

Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...

You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it was—the imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.

The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.

The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear – the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.

The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.

As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.

After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.

Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.

“I… I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.”

Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.

"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."

The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.

"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."

You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.

"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.

He nodded in response.

"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."

You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.

"I feel like I’m caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing – being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."

You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.

"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.

Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.

Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.

The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.

Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.

Yet, you missed him.

As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.

The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.

"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.

"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."

He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."

As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"

"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."

"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"

"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.

"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."

"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."

As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual – it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.

A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldn’t neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.

Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambers—the only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.

As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondo’s chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.

“Secondo?” No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.

To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.

Nothing.

As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.

Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.

Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.

"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.

"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."

"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"

"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.

"Deacon..."

"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title or—"

“Pasticcina,” Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.

As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance – no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.

“I had some personal matters to attend to,” Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Personal matters?” you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. “You were absent the whole day.”

He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. “There are aspects of my duties that require discretion. It’s nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.”

"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.

"Not without?" he inquired.

"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.

"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."

"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"

"Sì?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."

He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."

"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."

"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"You can't just—I'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.

He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."

"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"

He hesitated, then admitted, “I am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,” he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.

“A listener?” you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.

“I skipped the meeting because I couldn’t shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,” he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. “Listening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."

“So, it means that it was—” a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...

Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. “Do you want to talk about why you felt guilty?”

Your eyes widened as you looked at him. “I don’t.”

"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.

You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."

He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."

You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.

"But you had," Secondo’s gaze held an unspoken challenge. “Don't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,” his thumb continued its gentle caress.

“I… I just...” you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.

"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"

You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."

He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."

As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondo’s eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.

“I feel guilty,” you confessed, “for wanting you,” the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."

Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.

As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.

As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.

And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.

Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.

His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.

Tilting his head, Secondo’s tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.

Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.

"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.

"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.

"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."

"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.

"...Considering you have a date," you replied.

Secondo’s gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. “Ah, the date,” he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. “It’s just a date, pasticcina.”

“How come?” you inquired. “You’ve been preparing yourself for the last two days.”

He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. “I need to tell you something about it."

"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."

"Pa—" Secondo started to protest.

You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.

"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."

You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."

As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.

Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out – why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.

Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.

Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.

As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.

"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.

You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.

Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "I— Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"

"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.

Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.

"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.

"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."

You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."

Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.

"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.

You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.

You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.

And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.

But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.

You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.

Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.

Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.

"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.

"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.

He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"

"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"

Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.

"Understood," you replied.

"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.

"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.

"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."

“Already?” you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you – you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.

Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.

"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.

"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.

"Sì, Deacon," he replied. "You?"

"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.

As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.

"Papa," you called out once more.

"Sì?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.

"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"

"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.

"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.

"Of course," Secondo affirmed.

"Pap—"

Secondo’s hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldn’t hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.

"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."

"But, we are in public, and normally I call you—"

Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."

"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."

His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."

"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"

He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."

Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.

The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.

Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Secondo, are you okay?” you asked, concern etched on your face.

He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "I—," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"

"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.

Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.

"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.

"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"

Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."

Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.

Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.

“I need to know,” Secondo began cautiously, “Was the kiss a mistake?”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” you admitted, “but it was just a moment, right?”

He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. “I don’t want to complicate things,” he said.

You reached out and embraced Secondo. “It doesn’t have to complicate anything,” you whispered. “We’re still friends. Don’t worry.”

He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “I just don’t want to lose what we have, pasticcina.”

You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. “You won’t,” you assured him. “Now, let’s go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."

"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."

"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.

But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.

"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."

You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.

"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.

As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.

As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.

As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.

Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.

You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.

"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sì?"

"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"

"Because we need to talk," he replied.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."

He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt different—you felt different.

Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed different—somewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.

Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.

Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."

Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"

"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."

Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.

"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.

Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.

Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.

His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.

You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.

As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.

The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.

In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.

After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.

Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.

"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.

Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.

The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.

"Sì," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.

You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."

As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.

"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.

“What are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,” your grip on his hand got firm. “I can smell the dust from this place,” you chuckled as he closed the door.

"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"

"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"

He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."

"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"

Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."

"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"

He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."

"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"

"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."

Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.

A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."

Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.

With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."

He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."

You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.

The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.

Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.

"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."

You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.

"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.

"You...?"

Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.

You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."

Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.

A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.

As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"

You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.

Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.

"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."

As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sì?"

"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.

Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"

Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"

Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."

"What is good?" you murmured.

"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.

The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.

Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.

His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.

As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.

His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.

The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.

Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.

The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.

"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.

Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.

Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."

You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."

He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.

"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.

You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"

Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."

"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"

"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sì?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.

"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."

He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"

You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."

Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.

You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.

"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Sec—!"

Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.

Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.

As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routine—standard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.

A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensified—shock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.

The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paper—they became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.

As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.

The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him – soon enough, he would be in your room.

Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.

Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.

Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingered—did it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.

As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.

"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.

You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."

His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.

Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.

He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.

Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."

You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"

He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."

Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"

He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."

Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."

Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you,” he confessed. “It’s just… there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.”

You nodded.

"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."

"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.

"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sì?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."

"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."

Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."

You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."

He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."

"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."

"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."

"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."

He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."

Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."

"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.

"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."

You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.

"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."

"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."

"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.

"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."

"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"

"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.

Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."

"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.

The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.

Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.

The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.

Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.

Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. “At least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Delightful, sì?” His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.

You playfully bit your lower lip. “Very.”

His breath hitched, and he murmured, “Is it fine to keep going?”

With a seductive smirk, you asked, “Is it fine to lose the date plans?”

Secondo’s eyes gleamed with desire. “Plans can be changed,” he confessed, his voice low and provocative. “We’ve had our dates, even if they weren’t official. I believe it’s time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.”

"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.

Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondo’s hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.

"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.

You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.

He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."

A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.

He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, “Say what, Secondo?”

His eyes darkened with desire. “Say you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."

As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.

A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.

Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.

A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.

Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.

Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.

"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.

He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.

The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.

You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldn’t resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.

"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.

Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.

"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.

"Your face," he chuckled.

"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.

Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.

As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.

His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."

"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.

He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.

Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.

He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.

A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.

As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.

"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"

Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.

You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."

He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.

You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.

With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.

"I'm thinking about how much I want you."

A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.

Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.

"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.

Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. “I agree,” you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.

He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.

"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."

With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.

"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.

Secondo’s hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.

"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.

"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.

As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.

Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You’re so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."

"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."

With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.

Breaking the kiss, Secondo’s heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."

Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.

With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."

You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."

Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."

"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.

"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.

As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"

He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.

Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.

You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."

Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."

The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.

With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.

"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.

His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."

You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."

With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.

You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.

"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.

You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."

"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."

You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.

"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.

Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.

With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.

With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"

His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."

"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"

He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."

You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"

"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."

"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."

He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"

You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."

Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.

Grammar

Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men

Pasticcina - Little pastry

Impressionante - Impressive

Sì - Yes

Grazie - Thank you

Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that

Mi dispiace - I'm sorry

Nessun problema - No problem

Cretino - Idiot

Bene - Good

Molto bene - Very good

Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?

Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...

Fratello - Brother

Niente di importante - Nothing important

Le tue labbra - Your lips

Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face

[necroflaww]

⠀𝅄⠀ㅤׂ Ghost Papa Headcanons (Dating)!

A/N: Doing something a bit different than my usual. The month of October is all spooky month so I'll be doing maybe a "Kinktober" thing for different slashers/horror icons. Before then, I want to test some stuff in my other fandoms. I am a massive Ghost fan, have been for five years now. My favorite album is Meliora ;). Anyways, I decided to dust off my writing skills for literally the thing I have a whole corner of merch dedicated to! If this goes good, I'll do more Ghost stuff!

Themes: Fluff/NSFW/Some dark topics

Dividers credits!: @/gothdaddyissues

⛧ 𓂃 Primo!:

SFW:

⸸ I do believe Primo can be a sweetheart to his partners. His partner is his number one priority, even above the Ministry. He'd do anything to make sure that his beloved is safe and happy.

⸸ Late night cuddle sessions. He's an old fella, don't expect him to be jumping your bones every night. Some nights are just cuddling in bed together, basking in each other's warmth as Primo would read.

⸸ Acts of service. From making sure you have food, running you hot baths together, or a nice date night where he gets wine and helps clean with you as you two listen to music. Primo loves doing things for you.

⸸ His favorite places to kiss is probably your forehead and your cheek. Primo would often just tilt your head up with a finger to be able to grab a quick smooch from his beloved.

NSFW:

⸸ Since Primo is of course older, don't expect him to always want to have sex when you want or for him to have much stamina. Most nights, you'd need to run a hot bath for him to help with his aches. Aftercare is as important to him as it is for you.

⸸ Riding. Primo likes it when you ride him, being able to cup your chest and watched you ride yourself stupid on his cock. It gets him harder to be able to see you cum around him, your slick covering his lower stomach. Sometimes it even makes him just a tad bit harder.

⸸ Primo definitely knows what the hell he is doing. He knows all of the gooey spots in you to make you melt into his hands like a puddle of nerves. He's amazing with his fingers, always making sure you're wet and stretched enough to take him. Primo would rub so tenderly against those sweet spots that it would have you screaming like a whore for everyone in the Ministry to hear.

⸸ Praising you is a big favorite, letting his little love know how good they are. He makes sure to get right up in your ear with it too, to make sure you hear all of those filthy praises he has to say. He loves the way you would clench around his cock with each sweet word.

⛧ 𓂃 Secondo!:

SFW:

⸸ To start off with, Secondo is obviously a lover that makes sure his partner is completely satisfied no matter what. If you don't like an outfit you have to wear, he'll sit with you and help you pick an outfit. He'll make sure to make it known that you're absolutely stunning no matter what you wear.

⸸ Secondo would show you off. Dragging you in stage, making sure you're in photos with him, bragging about you. You're his treasure, his muse. He'll make sure it is known that you belong to him and that he belongs to you.

⸸ This one might be a little, just a tad bit controversial. I think Secondo might be a little like Nihil with Imperator. He would cheat, maybe once, then feel absolutely horrible about it when he realized how horribly it ruined you. It takes awhile to trust him again, but he will try in every way to make it up to you, going as far to make sure you're comfortable and calling when he's on tours.

⸸ A silly one to make up for the last one 😭. Secondo would have little to no discomfort with you. He gets a little to comfortable sometimes. Secondo would parade around his quarters ass naked as he got ready for Rituals.

NSFW:

⸸ I'm going to be honest, he's a a freak, absolutely down bad. The first thing he does after Rituals to calm down is bury his head between your legs and eat you out with his face paints still on. The bigger the mess, the harder he gets. He would grind against the bed until he cums during this. By the end of it, half of his makeup is on your thighs.

⸸ Secondo also likes using his hands, literally anything to please you. As I said in the SFW stuff, he will make sure you're completely satisfied. For the fem readers, two of his fingers would be knuckle deep in your slick and his pinky in your ass. Male readers, one hand would be making sure to be pumping the cum out of your cock and two fingers snug in your ass. He has to be touching, having his fingers in you.

⸸ Secondo loves anal. From using his tongue, fingers, cock, he loves your ass. That being said, doggy and reverse cowgirl is his favorite position. It drives Secondo near feral to be able to see the bounce of your ass when he fucks you. By the end of it all, your ass would be bright red and bruised.

⸸ Don't test him. Secondo is definitely a dominant man and he'll use pain to his advantage. If you brat a little too close to the sun, you'll be bent over his knee in know time with his leather gloved hand smacking roughly against your ass. He of course makes sure you're okay, making sure you're using a safe word for if it hurts too much.

⛧ 𓂃 Terzo!:

SFW:

⸸ Opposed to what many people think of Terzo, him being a horny, sassy man, I think Terzo is more of a recluse. His on stage persona is completely different compared to how he is with you. Terzo would rather spend evenings with you, drinking wine and watching Real Housewives.

⸸ Terzo has more of a taste for fashion than his brothers. He loves to match with you, hell, he even had matching outfits made for you two just because. He always is honest and trying his best to look good for you, making sure you stay up to date with trends.

⸸ Taking care of Terzo in return makes his heart melt. Even though Terzo has a huge stage presence, he usually gets increasingly anxious the closer Rituals get. It usually eats at him that he'll never be good enough, not good enough for Nihil. You have to remind him that he's a man carrying the whole Ministry on his shoulders and he's not alone. So to calm him down before shows, sitting and helping him do his makeup is usually the cure for his anxiety.

NSFW:

⸸ Terzo loves to mark you up. He can tend to get a bit possessive over you, so leaving bites in a place that's visible is one of his favorites. Terzo would bite your chest, between your thighs, about anywhere. Not hard of course, unless you ask for it.

⸸ Eating you out is a big yes. Terzo would get off by just lapping at you, sucking at your slick and spreading it more with his tongue. He'd rather be between your thighs, having them over his shoulders as he's buried nose deep against you.

⸸ A weird one, despite Terzo liking to have a clean appearance, making sure he smells nice and looks groomed. Your natural scents get him off. Your scent is enough to immediately get him rock hard, precum dripping onto the bed.

⸸ Terzo has a higher libido. Have fun dealing with that. Sometimes he would ache so god damn bad for you that sometimes he'd pull you into the nearest empty room just to fuck you. He would bend you over a desk, holding you by your waist to make sure you don't move too much as he would thrust into you.

⛧ 𓂃 Copia!:

SFW:

⸸ Copia is a big baby. That's all. If he gets hurt, it's straight to you. If you stray too far, Copia gets anxious. He likes having you, it's a safe blanket for himself. Being near you is just enough to make him so, so happy.

⸸ Copia's love language is definitely touch. Touching you always is a big yes. He'll always have a hand around you hip, on your thigh, holding your hands, anywhere on you. Sometimes if he's not sure if touching you intimately is appropriate, he'll just rest a hand on your shoulder or head.

⸸ Date nights are a must. Copia is more of an inside guy for sure. His nights are spent in sweatpants and on a couch playing video games with you. You sometimes have to go easy with him in video games because if he continually loses, he gets grumpy.

⸸ Copia's pet rats are his babies and as long you're with him, they're your babies too. Do not call them "ugly" or "filthy", most relationships are a deal breaker if you call his rats anything besides babies.

NSFW:

⸸ Another, maybe, slightly controversial one (not really.) I think Copia is a smoker, mostly because of Chapter 12 on YouTube (https://youtu.be/NJx--9-mQis?si=LyJ0tstNC6U9UekQ). Copia sometimes would smoke during sex, especially if you're just being a cock warmer for him. The warmth of the cigarette would near your face as Copia would mumbled sweet nothings as you sit pretty on his cock, letting it fill you to the brim.

⸸ Copia is self conscious of his body. He has a nice dad bod going on for him. He would sometimes only would have sex with you with clothes halfway on due to his insecurities. Copia's cock is a nice chub, on the shorter end, but thick and slightly curved. It just manages to hit you in all the right spots and sometimes your moans brings him a big ego boost that he's enough. Another silly thing, he's definitely has accidentally left his socks on during sex before.

⸸ Cumming on your face is probably one of the prettiest things to him, next to you of course. Copia does enjoy the warmth of milking his cum into you, but being able to cum on your face, chest, tummy, ass, or thighs is close to first for him. Copia would pull out despite your protests, pumping his cock in front of your face while you sit with your tongue out like an eager pup until he releases on you.

⸸ Copia is a switch, depending on how he feels that day is depending on how he is in bed. If dominant, expect gentle sex with loads of praises and soft kisses. Missionary or mating press is probably his favorite positions, to be able to kiss you or see your face as his cock grazes up against all of your favorite places. If submissive, expect tons of whinpering. Copia is a beggar, he would hold your love handles in a death grip, begging you to keep riding him (or fucking him) until he cums. He isn't usually a brat, Copia loves to be a good boy.

[whiskeyghoul]

Papa Emeritus II Master list

Reprimand (oneshot)

more tba

[ramblingoak]

His Little Ghuleh

Secondo x Aurora

Secondo didn't get on his knees for just anyone...

Warnings: cum play, overstimulation, size kink, biting, scratching, rough blow job, slight breeding kink, p in v sex, Aurora being in charge, jealousy, brief reference to Aurora hurting/killing someone because she got jealous, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI, 4.6k words

Secondo didn’t get on his knees for just anyone.

Usually he was the one staring down at a naked Sibling or Ghoul.  Watching as they found their pleasure, watching as they fell apart. He enjoyed hearing them moan and gasp his name.  It was always a beautiful sight, always something he looked forward to when he had the time.  When he found the perfect someone to share those moments with.  Tonight was different though, tonight he was the one naked and on his knees.

Her clawed fingers skimmed his shoulders as she circled him, some nameless tune falling softly from her lips.  The moonlight danced across her skin as she traced his tattoos.  The way her horns glittered was mesmerizing.  They curled up softly from her forehead, surrounded by her multicolored hair.  Aurora was the most beautiful being he had ever seen and tonight he was at her mercy.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was a tiny thing but like most Ghouls that didn’t matter.  There was great strength within her, a dark power that she was all too willing to release.  Secondo had seen the aftermath of it, the blood that she had spilled in a fit of jealousy.  Normally that wasn’t something he tolerated despite envy being one of the seven sins.  But there was something about his little ghuleh being so enraged over not getting the attention she felt she deserved that stirred something in him.

His mind went back to when he had met her.  It had been late in the evening when he had been wandering the abbey, restless and unsettled.  She had been dancing in the hallway outside the library, unglamoured and beautiful.  The fading sunlight caught on her skin and she glowed with an almost iridescent quality.  He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there and watched her, the moon had replaced the sun in the sky and she was laughing at him when he finally snapped out of whatever spell he had been under.

“Papa, are you paying attention?”

Her melodic voice brought him back to the present and he blinked as he met her gaze.  She stood before him, as naked as he and he let his eyes wander down her chest until he was looking at her soft stomach.  Boldly he leaned forward, careful to keep his hands at his back as instructed, and pressed a soft kiss into her warm skin.  She tasted of smoke, the kind that came from warm fires on cold nights.

“My apologies, mia demonietta.  I am here with you.”

“And do you want me, Papa?”

“I crave you.”  He murmured his words into her skin, smiling when he felt it jump under his lips.  “Do you want me?”

She laughed then, stepping away much to his disappointment.  Her footsteps were sure and steady as she walked backwards until his bed was at her back.  He idly wondered when he could call it their bed because he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to share it with another.

He wasn’t sure she’d ever let him.

“Come here.”  Aurora lifted herself onto the edge, reclining back as she watched him slowly move toward her on his knees.  When he was before her she spread her legs and his eyes fell closed as her scent hit him.  “Taste me.”

Secondo didn’t need any further encouragement, he fell upon her like he was starving and in a way he was.  Her wetness hit his tongue and he moaned loudly against her.  She was so warm, especially here.  He let his tongue run from her entrance to her clit, as slowly as he could manage, and then circled the nub before sucking it into his mouth.  A heavy sigh left her lips and he barely suppressed the grin that threatened to break out across his face.

He took his time with her, lapping at the increasing wetness he caused.  When her clit became swollen from his ministrations he moved further down, sucking the lips of her cunt between his own.  They made obscene noises when he pulled off of them but he didn’t want to let a single drop of her go to waste.  His tongue made rough passes over her and when he dared to nip at her she just laughed and ran her fingers over his head.

“Is that the best you can do, Papa?”

With a growl he pressed his face harder against her, sucking at her greedily when she started to grind against his face.  Her entrance was contracting around nothing, practically begging to be filled.  He shoved his tongue in as far as he could, his nose pressing into her clit as he did.  Her own moans joined his then and with a sigh she fell back onto her elbows.  That was his sign that he could put his hands on her and with a growl he slipped them under her thighs and curled his arms around them to hold her tight against his face.

The sounds she was making as he lapped at her inner walls was like music to his ears.  It was like the ringing of the brightest bells and it spurred him on.  He could feel her contracting around his tongue and he pulled it out so he could seal his lips over her opening.  Secondo sucked every drop out of her that he could, swiping his tongue up between her lips when her shaking intensified.  When he closed his lips over her clit once more that was what sent her over the edge and she screamed as her orgasm hit her.

He continued to lick her as she came down, memorizing her taste as best he could.  His broad tongue cleaned her of her release but he knew it wouldn’t last.  He knew she wasn’t sated just yet.  Her quivering opening called for more than his tongue but he flicked against it all the same, waiting for her to give him more instructions.  Smiling when her breathing hitched when his tongue easily slipped back inside of her.

“Stand up.”

Secondo scrambled to his feet like he was getting his dick wet for the first time.  He would be embarrassed if he couldn’t see how much it pleased his little ghuleh to see him so eager for her.  To see his face paint mixed with her own juices.  Her grin was an infectious thing that he couldn’t help but mirror.  He only wished he had sharp fangs to match her own, to bite at her and to mark her like she did him.

Aurora pulled her legs under her and knelt before him.  The only thing that gave her eagerness away was her bright eyes.  The color seemed to change even as he gazed down at them.  He couldn’t help but glance further, admiring how his paint looked smeared onto her thighs.  A thought skittered through his mind then of how she might look wearing his paint on her face.  Of how terrifyingly beautiful she would be then.

Something to ask of her later.

Her own eyes began to wander his body and he was pleased to see her mouth fall open as she took him in.  Compared to many of her pack members he was not as fit, not as other-wordly, but her eyes were still full of admiration.  Of lust.  She had told him as much before, of how she loved how strong he was but that he was still soft to her touch.  The dark hair that covered him was something she also loved and there had been many nights where she had seemed content to run her fingers through it for hours.

Right now her eyes fell to his cock and it bobbed at the attention.  Her mouth slackened when a drop of precum formed at the tip and she reached a clawed finger out with great care to swipe it away.  She eagerly brought it to her lips and sucked it in, her cheeks hollowing around the digit.  His breathing quickened and she smiled around her finger before pulling it out with an audible pop.

“Would you like to fuck my mouth now, Papa?”

“Amongst other things.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them and he stopped breathing, waiting for her to admonish him.  Waiting for her to punish him by not touching him at all and making him kneel at her feet the rest of the night.  Tonight though his insolence amused her and he didn’t dare take a breath as she leaned in towards his eager cock.  She seemed so small in front of it, if he hadn't seen her swallow him down before he would wonder how he would fit inside of her mouth at all.

Let alone the other places he enjoyed putting it.

She flicked her tongue against his tip daintily, as if she was tasting something for the first time.  Each drop of precum was quickly replaced by another and her little moans as each one hit her tongue had him practically dripping.  When she closed her mouth over the head and sucked he had to plant his feet firmly onto the carpet so he wouldn’t fall over.  Her head bobbed back and forth slowly, like he was a meal she was savoring.  As she did so her tongue lapped at him, stroking the sensitive skin along the bottom.  

He couldn’t help but reach out and bury his fingers in her hair.  Marveling at how the hues of blue and green closest to her horns looked against his skin.  Secondo only ran his fingers through it at first, waiting for her to signal to him he could go harder.  Some nights she didn’t let him touch her at all while others she was content just to let him comb through her hair.  He wasn’t ashamed to say his favorite nights were the ones where he could grip her roughly and use her.  

When she looked up at him through her lashes and smiled around his cock he let a prayer to Lucifer tumble from his lips.  He shakily lifted his other hand up to her head, letting his fingers run down one of her horns before he pushed them into her hair.  His grip was hard, harder than he could hold any of the Siblings he’d had before.  But he knew what she could take and he knew what she enjoyed.  He gripped her hair tightly as they watched each other for a few moments, neither of them even breathing as they took the other in.

Secondo only dared to move when he felt her jaw slacken around him and with a deep groan he pressed into her mouth until her nose was buried in the hair at the base of his cock.  She swallowed around him and the feel of her throat fluttering against him nearly had him coming right then.  With another groan he pulled out slowly, his gaze narrowing when a fang dragged along his length a little too hard.

“Mia piccola demonietta.”

She took him in again and again, letting him set the pace.  Her tongue lapped at his length and her throat seemed to try to drag him in deeper and deeper with each of his thrusts.  He went as hard as he dared, pulling at her hair to the point he knew her scalp must be aching.  Her hands had been staying obediently on her thighs but he soon noticed one had delved between them.  She was fingering herself roughing as he fucked her mouth and he wished he knew how many she was pressing into her entrance.

Sweat was beading along his brow and starting to drip down his face.  Her own skin shone with moisture and it made her glimmer even more than usual.  The light from the moon shining in caught on the saliva that was steadily dripping from her mouth and he had to clench his eyes shut at the sight.  Seeing her drooling for him, seeing her fucking herself with her fingers was making his cock begin to twitch.

Aurora could sense his release was near and she looked up at him, her eyes swimming in moisture.  He wasn’t sure if it was from his cock sporadically cutting off her air or the pain from the tight grip he had on her hair but it didn’t matter.  All that mattered to him was that she was looking at him like he was a deity for her to worship.  Like she was summoned from Hell for him and him alone.

All that mattered was that she was his and he was hers.

It was that thought that did him in and with one final thrust he held her still as his cock kicked inside of her mouth.  Her lips were stretched wide around his base as her throat flexed around him.  He felt her swallow each warm spurt of cum that left him, not letting a single drop leave her mouth.  Secondo didn’t pull away until he stilled inside of her and even then he was reluctant to do so.  She seemed to feel the same because she followed him as he leaned back, sucking at his spent cock until his tip finally fell away from her lips.

He released his grip on her hair, gently smoothing the strands down.  Petting her like she was some delicate thing and not a demon from Hell that could tear him to shreds whenever she fancied.  Her lips were swollen and raw, nearly split open in places from being stretched around his cock.  It made her look used but that only made her more beautiful to him.  She had let him use her, she had requested it.

Secondo couldn’t wait to do it again.

His little ghuleh glanced down at his feet almost shyly and in an instant he had dropped back to his knees.  He couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her so his hands fell onto her thighs, rubbing back and forth along her skin.  They watched each other for some time, he wasn’t entirely sure how long.  They stayed there mostly frozen until their breathing evened out.  Secondo didn’t dare move first, he didn’t want to break whatever spell had fallen over them both.

It wasn’t until she brought her still glistening fingers to his lips that he did more than breathe.  He sucked on her fingers like she had sucked on his cock, swirling his tongue around them so not a single drop of her was left.  She pressed her claws against his tongue and dragged them down his flesh when she pulled her fingers out.  He welcomed the sting, he welcomed the taste of his own blood.  Aurora enjoyed the taste of it as well because she quickly brought her fingers to her mouth so she could taste it herself.

“I’m not sure what I enjoy more…your blood or your cum.”

Her grin was feral as she watched him, as he savored the taste of her cum mixing with his blood.  It had his cock filling again quickly and he could smell how eager she still was for him.  As if on cue she started to scoot back on the bed, not stopping until her head was resting on his pillows.  Her hair contrasted beautifully against his black sheets, the brighter hues of pink and purple near the ends popping against the dark fabric.

He obediently stayed where he was until she spread her legs and held a hand out.  Secondo was on her in an instant, his cock straining towards her cunt.  Her rules were less strict now that her body was practically vibrating with need.  She was murmuring things in her own tongue, pressing dark sounding promises into the skin of his shoulders and his neck.  When she bit at him and drew blood her words became more hurried, like she was saying a desperate prayer.  

Secondo wasn’t as fluent in the Ghouls’ language as he would like but he knew enough to understand what his little ghuleh was asking for.  He knew that she wanted him.  That she would kill anyone that stood in her way of having him.  He knew that she felt empty when he wasn’t inside of her in some way and that she craved being filled by him.  Secondo knew enough to understand the words for ‘mine’ and ‘need’.

He knew what the Ghoulish word for ‘love’ was.

The tip of his cock caught on her entrance and they both let out desperate moans.  He couldn’t help but tease her even with how crazy he felt with need.  Taking hold of his cock he ran it slowly up and down her cunt, dragging it between her lips and spreading her wetness.  She was slick, practically soaking with need.  The scent was heavy in the air and he was panting as it settled over him.

“Now, now fuck me now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.  When he stopped at her entrance this time his eyes moved up to meet hers.  Something passed between them then, something deep and eternal.  It was something beyond simply sharing a bed and fucking each other.  He took a deep breath and dropped his forehead to her own, watching her expression change as he pressed into her.

“Little ghuleh.”

The way she stretched around him was exquisite.  Her inner walls craved him and they seemed to pull him in deeper, as deep as he could go.  It almost scared him how even that didn’t seem like enough.  Like no matter how he took her, no matter how he had her, he always needed more.  He knew she felt the same with the way she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.  The strong muscles holding him against her as close as she could get him.

His cock pulsed within her, impatient for him to move but he stayed still.  He didn’t really have a choice with how she clung to him.  She wouldn’t let him move until she was ready so he savored the moment as best he could.  He couldn’t help but press his lips to hers, flicking his tongue against them when she pouted.  Secondo bit at them next, tiny nips that did no real damage but her breath quickened all the same.

“You are so impatient, Papa.”  

A laugh escaped him and he smiled at her annoyance.  He dared to grind his hips against hers, his smile widening when she whimpered.  His mouth fell to her neck when she tipped her head back and he let his teeth dance along her skin there.  Once more he wished he had fangs to mark her properly.  To show everyone in the abbey that she was his.  One of her hands came up to cup his cheek and she tilted her head back down to meet his eyes, her clawed thumb scratching lightly under his eye.  When she regarded him silently he raised an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“They know.”  

Her claw dug in harder leaving a stinging mark in its wake.  He let out a growl and pressed harder against her hand, hissing when her nail cut deeper.  Good.  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he belonged to her in return but he didn’t.  Anyone with eyes could see that he was lost to her from the first moment he had seen her dancing in that hallway.

Her legs released him then and she spread them out on the bed.  He wrapped his arms under her thighs again and pressed them up so her knees were near her chest.  His mouth fell upon her then, sucking at her breasts and tugging a nipple between his teeth.  She gripped his head and held him against her, gasping when he let go of one of her legs to grip her breast in his hand.

He was rougher with her than normal, enjoying the sight of her flesh indenting under his fingers.  In the morning he hoped there would be bruises.  Evidence of his touch that he could marvel at while she slept in his bed.  She healed so quickly it was hard to get his marks to last.  It was something he’d have to work on, something he would have to practice with.

He doubted his little ghuleh would mind.

The wet heat of her around his cock was finally too much to ignore and with a groan he pulled away from her breasts.  Her nipple slipped out of his mouth with a soft pop and he blew against it as he moved away, smiling when her skin broke out in goosebumps.  He gripped her legs again to keep her imobile and when their gazes finally locked he began the slow drag out of her.  

Secondo stopped when the head of his cock was nearly free of her before he pressed firmly back in.  She was hot and wet, she was everything.  He paused for a moment when their hips were flush together again before pulling out once more.  Over and over he repeated the action, never letting his cock leave her body.  She made the prettiest noises as his cock dragged along her walls and he made his own each time she contracted around him.

If he could he would have continued that slow drag back and forth for hours, torturing them both until they were drenched in sweat and blood and cum.  But the pull of her was too strong and he could tell by how desperate she sounded, by how hard her nails were digging into his arms that she didn’t want to wait any longer either.  She needed him to fuck her and she needed him to fuck her hard.    

Who was he to make her wait?

He let go of her legs and sat up, spreading his knees out so he had more leverage.  Aurora draped her legs over his thighs, keeping herself open for him.  He couldn’t help but stare at where they were joined.  Marveling at how she stretched around him.  Secondo reached out and touched her there, touching her opening and grinning when she made a wounded noise.

“Easy now, let your Papa take care of you.”

His finger traced the puffy skin around his cock.  He pressed at her, idly wondering if he could push a finger alongside his length.  Wondering if she could take that and more.  When he glanced back at her eyes they were wide as she watched him.  Her bottom lip was clamped between her teeth and he saw blood forming along where her fangs bit into it.  He smiled and reached up to collect a drop on his thumb, eagerly bringing it to his mouth and licking it off.

With the taste of her on his tongue he couldn’t help but start to move again.  Both of his hands fell to her hips to hold her still as he snapped his hips against her.  The slick sounds of his cock moving in and out of her grew loud in the room.  She was so wet for him it was almost obscene.  He could feel it spreading over his thighs and he knew his sheets would be soaked when they were done.  

He looked down at her belly and let one of his hands move to press over it.  Her body jolted with each stroke of his cock into her and he imagined that he could feel himself under his hand.  Feel how deep he was reaching inside of her.  He wanted to cum in her so badly, he wanted to press it as far as he could.  He wanted to fill her up, so that she was marked inside as his as well as out.

She was scratching gouges into his forearms and he groaned as his sweat made the cuts sting.  His thrust became more wild, more animalistic and he imagined this was how the Ghouls fucked in Hell.  Brutal matings that could be heard for miles. He relished the noises he could drag from her.

He loved making her sing.

Her walls were contracting around him harder and he knew she was close.  He wasn’t far behind but he’d be damned if he came before her.  Secondo wanted to watch her face contort as her pleasure took her, as it overwhelmed her.  He brought his thumb to her clit and began to rub tight circles around it.  His other hand pressed harder against her stomach and there, that was him inside of her. 

Aurora cried out, a sharp keening sound that made his teeth vibrate.  She came right after, spasming around his cock, her body begging him to cum.  It wasn’t a demand he could resist and let out a ragged moan as he began to kick inside of her.  His hips continued to move and she worked to meet each of his thrusts, her body milking him of his cum.  He rubbed his hand over her belly, thinking about filling her again and again.

Perhaps he would do just that.

Eventually they both stopped and his cock softened enough that it slipped out of her.  He narrowed his eyes when some of his cum dripped out and he quickly brought two of his fingers to her opening to press it back inside.  She hummed as he did so, wiggling her hips to encourage him to keep going.  Like she didn’t want a drop of him to leave her body either.

When he was satisfied he settled back on his heels, bringing his hands around his back so he wasn’t tempted to touch her.  Even though they were both still trembling from their orgasms he knew he had to wait.  He needed to see what she wanted next.  Sometimes she was content wrapping her small body around his but other times she wanted more.  Whether it was working him up until his cock was hard again or his mouth he never knew.  As always he was at her mercy and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“I don’t like this feeling.”

He couldn’t help but wince at her words.  She stretched then, like a cat that had been napping all afternoon.

“What feeling is that?”

“How it feels after.”  She lifted her foot and delicately placed it on one of his broad thighs, stretching her other leg out again.  The movement caused his cum to drip out of her once more and he felt a growl build in his chest.  “Like there’s a part of me missing.”

“What would you like?”

“Your mouth.  I want you to clean me up.”  

She moved her foot off his leg and he took that as a sign that he could move.  He dropped down so face was level with her cunt, his mouth already salivating at the chance to taste her again.  To taste them both mixed together.  A clawed hand on his scalp was the only thing that stopped him and he looked up to meet her eyes.  

“And after?  What shall we do then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me again, Papa.  And again.  Until I don’t remember what it’s like not to have you inside of me.”

He grinned, dropping his mouth so he could briefly drag his tongue across her dripping entrance.  His body was already stirring as the taste exploded over his tongue and he ground his hips briefly against the bed.  When her claws dug into his skin he glanced back up at her and smiled.

“As my little ghuleh commands.”

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of Our Own ~ My Tip Jar

[saruman-the-silly]

Oh hello... I wanted to make a request, I wanted to know how the Papas would react to seeing that y/n is a little chubby. Because I was looking in the mirror and I was so sad about what I saw, and now I'm lying in bed scrolling through Tumblr thinking about making this request... You don't have to do it if you don't want to, It's just that I love the way you write that I kept thinking about it.

I very much want to, thank you very much :D there is nothing, and I repeat, nothing wrong with being a little chubby, or being a lot more chubby! Whatever size you are, you are beautiful, remember that <3

This also gives me a reason to finally write something for Primo and Secondo so thank you hehe

soooooo I present to you, headcanons about the papas with a chubby reader! (gender neutral ofc hehe)

(I wrote this kind of quickly so if there are horrible grammatical errors, I will try and fix them as I find them lol)

------------------------------

Headcanons: Papas with a chubby reader

Primo:

He's very old, and a bit old-fashioned, so he just instantly thought you were an angel when he saw you. Back in his days, the curvier you were, the more attractive you were.

When he got to know you as a person, he grew to love you very quickly.

All of your curves and imperfections were a work of art for him.

Primo is also such a gentle person, and would notice the instant you were feeling down/insecure. He doesn't pressure you to talk about it though, but he still makes sure you know that he's there for you.

If you wanna talk tho? He would listen really well, and after you had poured your insecurities out on the table, he would assure you that your curves just made you more, well, you. And you were his amore, the most beautiful thing in the world.

Secondo:

He's a serious guy who does not like to talk about emotions and stuff. (I don't think he even knows how but lmao anyway)

Secondo's usually serious and no-bullshit charade was quickly torn away by you and your delightful presence. (He was freaking out like crazy when he first met you, Terzo would not let him forget how he stumbled over his words when he was first introduced to you)

Also, fuck, he couldn't keep his eyes from you. Every time you are in a same room with him, his gaze almost involuntarily shifts back to you.

He loves you. So much. So when you came to him, telling how you didn't think you looked good, he was a little confused. How could you see yourself in such a light, when you had made such an impact on him?

He reassures you that yes, he wants to be with you and nobody else.

He doesn't really know say anything else. But he doesn't need to, his actions prove the endless love he harbours for you.

Terzo:

Ah, Terzo, our hopeless romantic.

Terzo has seen many different types of bodies up close and personal during his life, but not one of them could match your beauty.

Needless to say, when he first met you he fell. Hard. Like, head over heels. Out the door went his playboy days, he only had eyes for you.

He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You had trouble believing him, when he confessed his undying love for you. (Don't blame him he just likes to be theatrical but he really did mean it)

You confessed to Terzo about your insecurities, and he proved himself to be a great listener. After talking, he reassured you that yes, he meant what he said, yes, he wants to be with you.

He would then bring you in front of a mirror, and gently kiss and caress all the parts of your body you are insecure about.

Copia:

He would understand your struggles very well. Having a history with insecurities himself, Copia isn't a stranger to body dysmorphia.

Copia loves you. So much. You helped him get through a lot of his insecurities, so, now was his turn.

He let you vent, while making you a cup of tea, and wrapped you in a tight hug afterwards. You cried in his arms and he just held you and comforted you.

Copia is very direct about his feelings toward you. He lists all the things he loves about you, and tells you how you size just makes you all the more perfect. (the man loves thick thighs)

He would do his best to make you see yourself in the same light he sees you. Copia gently traces over your stretchmarks with his finger, then kisses them and whispers to you how beautiful you are.

---------------------------

Thanks for the request annnd enjoy :D

Remember, you are beautiful no matter your size <3

[her-satanic-wiles]

Bejewelled

Papa Emeritus II x Reader

It’s Papa Secondo’s birthday, and after spending the whole day working, he just wants to relax. But how can he when his favourite Sister of Sin is being a bad girl in front of everyone?

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by @inkstainedrat

Words: 5.6k.

Reading Time: 22 min.

Warnings: anal play, begging, breeding degradation, cock warming, creampie, dubcon, fingering, frottage, free use, groping, hair pulling, mentions of cunnilingus, mentions of fellatio, pain kink, PIV sex, positive degradation, praise, rough sex, spanking, spit as lube, underprepared, unprotected sex (Embrace safety - enjoy it greatly), vaginal sex,

Taglist: @inkstainedrat @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @socksandcr0cs @dio-niisio @duskspring @foxybouquet @likeloversentwined

Thank you to @da-rulah, @angellayercake and @tasty-ribz for workshopping some of these ideas with me and getting me on track!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

You settled into your space at the meeting table, notepad opened to the next available page and date written at the top of it in neat handwriting. You had taken on a more secretarial role for the Ministry, providing the reigning Papa with a helping hand as he went about his daily schedule. The other clergy members were already sat and settled like you, cardinal robes of black and red alternating the seats like chess pieces on a board, broken occasionally by the odd sibling of sin who’d, like you, joined to either take notes for their respective bosses, or provide insight on the general running of the Ministry where the upper clergy couldn’t assist. In short, everyone was ready and waiting, conversations slipping past your ears as certain cardinals spoke over you, not to you. But they soon silenced themselves when the door opened and Papa Emeritus II walked through the doors.

Papa Secondo, despite being a softhearted, kind man, oozed an intimidating aura that put men in their place just by his presence alone. Papa Secondo was not a man to be trifled with, played with, or undermined in any way. His word was law, even among his brothers, one of which outranked him in both age and experience. He took no shit, dished out as much as he could, and ultimately threw his weight around in a respectable, yet authoritative way. Just the mere look of his scowl would have your thighs clenching, and heat pooling between your legs - and you weren’t the only one affected by this.

Papa Secondo’s personality was much different to that of his brothers. Before he met you, he would almost never seek a woman out, he’d rarely approach her, rarely proposition her - in fear of making her uncomfortable mostly, but he also didn’t want to blend in with the other men in the Ministry, his younger brother included, who would approach and whine and beg for the ladies to spread their legs and invite him in willingly. Besides, there was something inside him that loved being chased rather than doing the chasing. The idea that a beautiful woman would want him so much, she’d run after him and coyly ask if he’d give her some company later on. That a beautiful woman would want him so much, that she’d face the fear of rejection in front of her friends and potentially embarrass herself, just to get the opportunity to hold him. He’d never approach a woman, but he’d also never reject one either. And, as he entered the room, your eyes darted to all the other sisters who were equally as squirmy as you, the mere proximity being too much for you all to handle.

It always made you feel smug knowing he had such an affect on the rest of the clergy, but would always come back to you no matter what.

Men feared him. Women wanted him. Somehow, the perfect man did exist, and he wore black, glitter paints and silenced a room just by opening a door.

“Buon pomeriggio.” He said, his deep voice quiet yet commanding. He kept his eyes straight in front of him as he entered the room, not bothering to spare a glance to his colleagues until he’d approached his seat at the head of the table and directly opposite you. You were the first person his mismatched eyes had landed on, reminding you that to him, you were the most important person in the room despite your low ranking among his peers. Once he’d registered your existence, he sat down and situated himself comfortably, gloved hands immediately opening his own folder to pull out the important documents for the meeting. Once he’d personally acknowledged everyone else in the room, he cleared his throat and began.

“Ora, we have many things on the agenda today, so I would like to start immediately, by Sathanas and the mother, Lilith, we thank and worship thee as we do ourselves. Nema.”

“Nema.” Came the chorus of the clergy.

“Cardinale Zhang,” he looked towards the man and you watched as Cardinal Zhang startled at the sudden attention. Papa Secondo noticed, and despite his face being emotionless and stoic, a flicker of amusement passed across his eyes, feeding on the Cardinal’s fear. “You have been visiting universities to de-stigmatise the Faith. Update me, how is that going?”

Cardinal Zhang swallowed and cleared his throat doing his best to hide his nerves. He failed, obviously. He began talking, detailing his efforts across the Atlantic in America and how he’d shown up for each of the universities along the East Coast, hoping to break through to the youth. But as a lot of that part of America were staunch ‘Red States’ and Christians, he was met with a lot of resistance.

Secondo, somewhat surprisingly, was understanding with his response. For once, he didn’t criticise the Cardinal’s failure, or what he deemed as such, rather the country’s unwillingness to be open to change. He quickly followed up that comment with another about Salem, and how they were always welcomed with open arms there thanks to the work of previous clergy members who’d moved to set up temples and places of worship.

He then moved on quickly to the next outreach programme, opening the Ministry doors once a month for visitors and tours of the historical building they all called home - another effort of de-stigmatisation that was under the watchful eyes of Cardinal Garcia. His tone softened when he spoke to her, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened intently to everything she had to say. “We get upwards of one thousand visitors per weekend, Papa.” She confirmed in an upbeat tone. “This is a 20% increase of last year. We’re still keeping our entrance fee at 20 Euros for now,” she handed a sheet of paper to one of the Ghouls standing behind her, who then brought it to Papa Secondo to browse at his leisure, which he did, “Last month alone we received approximately 20,080 Euros. Our finance specialists have worked closely with our social media team, and have worked out we may get roughly a further 500 guests next month, an additional 50% growth, which should tip us over the 20,500 Euro benchmark.”

“Can we quantify the impact of these tours on public perception and understanding of our beliefs and values?” Papa asked, not taking his eyes off the paper.

“I believe so, Papa. On average,” she handed another sheet of paper to a Ghoul, “30% of guests purchase a membership of the Satanic Church, and organise unholy baptisms. 10% actively apply to work and live here full time.”

“How many of these applications get accepted?”

“Recently, with all the moves and changes of our staff, around 50% got accepted last month. But usually, we only select from the most impressive, which is, as accurately as I can describe it, a handful.”

“Are any of our parishes around the world asking for more siblings?”

“I’m not sure, Papa. That’s Cardinal Smith’s jurisdiction.”

Papa’s eyes snapped to Cardinal Smith, another man who shivered beneath the weight of Papa’s gaze. “Well?” He snapped, expectantly, clearly annoyed by Cardinal Smith’s lack of initiative.

“W-we have had a few requests, Your Dark Eminence.” Cardinal Smith stammered.

“And how many siblings have been transferred?”

“Well, n-none.”

Papa’s eyebrows raised. “None? Questo è un cazzo di scherzo assoluto! Perché? Why are you not assisting our unholy siblings?”

“We couldn’t spare the people.”

“Sei stupido, Cardinale Smith?”

“N-no, Your Dark Eminence.”

“Then why do you not liaison with Cardinale Garcia and ask her to accept more applicants to send them overseas after their education?”

“I d-didn’t think.”

“Ah. Non mi sorprende, Cardinale. A brain as smooth as yours must be kept shiny and pristine, sì? Cannot be worried about trivial tasks such as thinking.” His tone softened again as he turned to - “Cardinale Garcia, work with Cardinale Stronzo in providing new applicants for our unholy siblings overseas, per favore.” He turned to another woman in the room. “Cardinale Kim, I would also like you to work on this with Cardinale Garcia and Smith to speed up our applicants education and send them out to their respective countries. When you have the time, of course.”

“Of course, Papa.” Cardinal Kim responded.

“I thank Lilith that there are two intelligent women on this job. Sathanas knows we’d fall apart if it was left only to the smooth brained of us in the room.” He cleared his throat. “Sorella ___,” he said addressing you, “are you getting all of this?”

You didn’t look up from your notebook, wrist aching from all the minutes you were taking. “It would help if you spoke slower, Papa.” You replied, insubordinately. You didn’t need to look at Papa to know he was looking at you furiously. “Either that or let me bring my laptop to these meetings.”

“Your laptop is too loud.” He protested through gritted teeth.

You finally looked at him, a small grin on your face. “Then speak slower. Please.”

He sighed and sat back in his seat, staring daggers into your soul. You were usually so sweet and polite to him - his little angioletta who respected him in front of everyone in the vicinity, who behaved so obediently behind closed doors and thanked him for all that he gave you. You were never bratty to your Papa, never rude or obnoxious. “You’re very audacious today, little one.” He commented, his tone commanding your obedience lest you face a punishment.

You persisted, the idea of dealing with your angry Papa later on too delectable to give up now. Papa would often take his frustrations out on you, an agreement between the both of you allowed him to take your consent and use you as he pleased, whenever he pleased. You would always spread your legs willingly for him, or bend yourself over and arch your back just as he liked without him uttering a single word, and depending on the kind of day he’d had, you’d either be worshipped, or bruised by his daily frustrations. You’d told him through bright red cheeks once that you thoroughly enjoyed him using you to deal with his anger, and so, he would have you whenever he felt even a little bit perturbed. But never were you the reason for his anger, not until today. And the way he looked at you now had your hole clenching around nothing, and a need to push him until he snapped and bubbled beneath your surface. You’d started now, you didn’t think you’d be able to stop until he put you back in your place.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be blamed for missing even a drop of your wisdom.”

The rest of the room shifted uncomfortably as the tension became so thick, you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it.

“I’d hold my tongue if I were you, angioletta.”

“But you’re not me, Papa.”

Papa dropped into a foul mood for the rest of the meeting, shooting you angry looks and constantly asking if he was being slow enough for you. But eventually, the meeting came to an end, and Papa pushed everyone out of the room, keeping you in your place. As soon as the door closed, in a harsh tone, he broke the silence. “Angioletta, what was that?”

“What was what, Papa?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t play dumb with me - you know what you did. Sathanas, ___. Since when do you have sass with your Papa, hm? Since when do you show your Papa such disrespect?” He sighed at your lack of answer. He stood and walked over to you, looking down on you as you remained seated in your chair. You weren’t looking up at him, instead keeping your gaze straight on the seat he was sat in before, and he didn’t appreciate this either. With his finger and his thumb, he gently pinched your chin and guided your face to look at him, forcing eye contact with you. “I expect you on your best behaviour tonight, angioletta. Capisce? No sass, no back talk. Just doting on your Papa on his birthday, sì?”

“Happy birthday, Papa.” You said, softly, a smile playing on your lips. Wholesome. Nonsuspect.

“Grazie, amore mio.” He bent down to kiss your forehead then left you alone in the room, seemingly unaware that you’d never actually agreed to anything.

That evening, you dressed in your finest for your Papa, choosing a dress gifted to you by him. It was just something simple, a body con black dress that hugged your curves in all the right ways, paired with a Satanic pentagram harness that he loved to see you in. It was really no effort at all, but your Papa would certainly enjoy you tonight. A feast for his eyes - at least you hoped.

You were one of Secondo’s earliest guests, besides his older brother Papa Primo, arriving at his quarters and knocking on the door before entering. Papa Primo greeted you warmly, and welcomed you in, placing a drink in your hand. You could already smell the dinner coming from Secondo’s private kitchen and felt your stomach growl in hunger. You were so ready for the feast to begin - and for your torture of your Papa to continue. You weren’t just ravenous for the food, especially when you saw him enter the dining room, not wearing his usual robes but still painted in his official paints. His suit was perfectly tailored, cut to each contour of his body, and made from a rich, cold, emerald green. Velvet. Accompanied by a deep green tie and his favourite black-painted fingernails. In his robes he was divine. In a suit? You were feral.

As soon he saw you, you watched as his glittery eyes darkened, and his chest reflected a deep sigh. The second he was beside you, his hands grasped onto your hips and pulled you into him, lips attaching to your neck. He didn’t care that he already had other guests - he didn’t care that he may be smudging his paints. He was too intoxicated by you to do anything other than dig his fingers into the meat of your flesh and inhale your seductive perfume, bewitching him beyond belief. He was ready to drop to his knees and worship you there and then, except you pushed him away.

“I haven’t forgotten how you spoke to me earlier, Papa.” You chided, keeping your voice as level as you could and holding back your giggles when his expression changed.

“Angioletta,” he practically whined, ��you promised.”

“No,” you poked his chest, “you laid down the law. I never told you I’d follow it.”

“You want to make me suffer all night, hm? Embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“I never want to embarrass you, Papa. I’d like an apology.”

He frowned. “For what?”

You sighed. “Use that big, wrinkly brain of yours and think.” And with that, you walked away. In truth he had nothing to apologise for and you both knew it. But you enjoyed watching him stew away in his mind, greeting and welcoming guests and trying to maintain a semblance of composure. You were teetering on the line between enjoyment and cruelty, though. And you’d need to end this quickly so as not to actually spoil his birthday.

Secondo’s quarters had never been so lively, but even then, they were lively by Secondo’s standards. To celebrate his birthday, all of the people closest to him had gathered in his chambers, crowded around his long dining table (that he mostly used for work), and feasted on the delightful Italian delicacies hand crafted by the Ministry’s chefs, whom you’d paid extra to cook for everyone for the evening. Amidst the clinking of glasses filled with the Ministry’s own wine, and the aroma of garlic-infused dishes wafting through the air, the place was abuzz with laughter and conversation, but your attention was solely fixed on one man – Papa Secondo himself.

He sat beside you at the head of the table, his natural scowl creasing his glabella as he looked upon his guests and listened to their conversations, responding only when he needed to, but enjoying the atmosphere, nonetheless. His paints were perfectly worn, not a single line bent or crooked, or even smudged with the wine he’d drunk, or the food he’d so gracefully placed into his mouth as though he were the epitome of sophistication - which, to be fair, he was. His Roman nose making his profile so intoxicating, so powerful, you found yourself staring at him, drinking in the love of your life and appreciating him silently for the work of art he was.

Secondo cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping across the room as he prepared to address his guests. “My dear friends, I want to take this moment to express my gratitude for your presence here tonight,” he began, his voice carrying authority and warmth. “Your loyalty and support mean more to me than you can imagine.”

You couldn’t resist interjecting with a sassy remark. “Oh, how touching, Papa,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I almost believe you mean it.”

The room fell into a momentary silence as everyone turned their attention to the unexpected exchange between you both. Secondo’s expression darkened, his jaw tensing as he turned to face you.

“Sorella,” he said through gritted teeth, his tone a warning.

But you refused to back down, your gaze challenging. “What, Papa? Can’t handle a little honesty?” You retorted, your voice edged with defiance. You squirmed in your seat under the heat of his gaze, the unbridled anger that oozed off him like peach juice dripping down one’s chin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you watched him become more and more enraged at your attitude, and you tried so hard not to let your enjoyment show.

Secondo’s eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he regained his composure. “I expect respect in my presence, Sorella,” he replied, his voice low and controlled.

You took a sip of your wine and set your glass down. “And yet, you don’t always deserve it.”

“My room. Now.” He all but hissed. His grip on his glass was choking, and you could almost see it shattering in his hand from the force. You’d done it. You got him. Now was the time to obey. You stood and made your way to his bedroom as instructed, hearing him excuse you both and urge his guests to continue without him. The part where he was announcing that he was going to scold you for your behaviour was missing, but certainly implied, and within a few seconds you heard him chase after you and the guests murmuring in the background, only to be blocked by him slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck was that, hm?” He growled, his hand coming up to your hair and pulling it at the roots, making you look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Papa!”

“Sorry? Amore mio, it’s a little late for that, do you not think? Embarrassing me in front of everyone.”

You laughed.

“Che cos’è questo? Laughing at your Papa?” He stopped, a realisation dawning on him. “Ah. I see how it is. My angioletta is giving into sin tonight? Becoming a whore to anger her Papa.” He released you and gestured to the bed. “Hands on the bed. Now, amore.” You obeyed him for the first time that day, resting your hands on the bed and bending at the waist, exposing your ass to him. You knew what was coming, your core clenching in anticipation of feeling his hand come down on you at full force. You arched your back as much as you could, allowing your ass to pop for him, and hearing him groan in appreciation when you did.

“You wanted to play with your Papa,” he said coming up behind you, “so let’s play, hm?”

His hand came down on your left ass cheek, the sting you enjoyed so much muffled by layer of fabric still (barely) covering your body. The first hit was gentle, barely stinging at all. As angry as Secondo was, he still took his time with you, making sure he didn’t hurt you too much and too quickly. He mirrored this on your right cheek, back to your left, back to your right. Each hit gradually landed harder and harder, and you needed to bury your face into his sheets to hide your cries lest his guests hear what was happening. With each slap, your body jumped in response, as if it was shocked to receive the hits your mind knew was coming. You knew you were getting redder with each slap, which would only egg Secondo on more when he saw it for himself.

He lifted your dress up, exposing your black panties fully and bunching the hem around your waist, and, as predicted, groaned at the sight of you. Secondo was an artist, and you were always his favourite canvas. He began to slap your bare cheeks, revelling in the deep red that was forming on your skin, relishing in the dampened moans coming from you. “This is no punishment for you at all, is it?” He commented, punctuating his sentence with more slaps, now using both of his hands. “You love it when your Papa hits you like this, don’t you?” He slapped you much harder when you didn’t answer. “Do not be rude, angioletta.”

“Yes, Papa!” You responded, your voice coming out as a moan. “I love it!”

“I bet you’ve soaked through these slutty little panties, haven’t you?” He moved his left hand to the gusset of your panties, using his four fingers to rub against your cunt and his thumb rested against your asshole as an anchor.

Usually, he’d be met with your soft flesh and twitching hole, and would tease it over your panties, too, just to drive you wild. But today, his thumb met with something hard, and him putting pressure there caused you to moan out loud. “Che cazzo?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over the ridges. His hand, damp from the juices that had soaked your panties, came up to the waistband and roughly pulled them off you, hissing at the sight of him. Buried deep inside your twitching hole, was a butt plug, with an emerald resin gem sitting atop the metal base. “Puttana.” Though his words were degrading, the tone in which he said them was appreciative. He loved this little surprise, his cock growing harder and harder beneath his velvet slacks and begging to bury itself into one of your holes. “How long have you been wearing this?”

“All da-ay!” Your voice hiccuped when you felt his fingers hook around the base and jiggle it.

“No wonder you’ve been acting like a bitch today, amore. You’ve been in heat all day, hm? Did you want me to bend you over the table in the meeting room? Is that why you’ve been provoking me all day?”

“Y-yes, Papa. Want… wanted you to f-fuck me all day! Shit.”

“Wanted your Papa to ruin your holes, hm?”

“Yesss!”

He landed another hard spank on your right cheek with his right hand, much harder than the others. That, coupled with the way he was still playing with the plug, caused a moan to escape your lips, much louder than the others.

You heard him play with his belt, unbuckling it and then the buttons of his slacks, before you finally heard the zipper undo. “Hands and knees, ass in the air.” He ordered. You climbed fully onto the mattress, feeling his hand come down on you more and more as you got situated for him. “Gonna put this fuckhole to good use.”

You felt his girth rub against your folds, getting wetter with your slick with each movement. When he stopped and pulled away, you chanced a glance behind you and watched what he was doing, cunt clenching when you saw his head bowed, a thick glob of spit falling from his mouth and landing on his cock. He pumped himself a few times, spreading the saliva over his entire length before spitting again and repeating until he deemed himself wet enough. He plunged two of his fingers inside you, pumping only a few times to get you stretched out a little more before lining himself up with your hole.

You heard him chuckle darkly behind you. “I’m gonna enjoy this - but you won’t.”

That was all the warning he gave you before he pushed inside you, his considerable thickness stretching you out beyond compare. Usually he’d prepare you more, make you cum for him all over his tongue before he even considered fucking you with his cock. But not tonight. He didn’t have the time nor the will to. This was meant to be a punishment, after all. Prepared or not, you adored the initial stretch every single time he slid into you. He always burned so deliciously, but sometimes there was a hint of pain that sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling and fingers digging into whatever surface you were being fucked on.

Secondo took his time bottoming out, enjoying watching your body tense below him from the pain of it, and smiling at your cunt clenching down on him. “There we go.” He said, gripping onto your ass cheeks as he bottomed out inside you, fingers rubbing over your raw flesh and causing a bigger sting to wash over you. He used your body as leverage to help him slam into you, setting a rough pace right away and knocking the wind out of you. He pulled gutteral moans out of you, deep, animalistic grunts that you had no control over as he fucked into you like a madman finally getting his fix.

The sound of your cunt taking him back in over and over again was so loud, you were sure his guests could hear you from the other room. It made Secondo want to bite you, sink his teeth into you like an apple, and feel your juices coat his mouth while he licked and sucked at your core. But he was pretending that this was a punishment for you - he couldn’t consciously do something that would make you cum. Well, maybe a finger or so later on. For now, you were his to fuck around with, and he could hear and feel just how much you enjoyed it.

“You’re so fucked up for liking this, amore.” He taunted, releasing grunts and growls of his own. “A pain slut for her Papa. Cazzo!”

He pushed your hips down, making you lie flat on your stomach, legs dangling off the edge and making you feel helpless below him. He put his entire weight on your body as he railed you into the mattress, rough, quick thrusts making your body bounce and your ass ricochet off his own hips.

“I don’t like hurting you, angioletta.” A growl ripped from his throat. “But you need to learn how to respect your Papa. Apologise for making me do this to you.”

“I- I’m so…rry, Papa-ah!”

“Brava ragazza.”

Every time you made a sound, he landed another hit on your ass, making you redder and rawer. He loved it - but equally, so did you. Even on the days when he was taking his anger out on you, he wouldn’t often be this rough. He wouldn’t laugh at your cries, or push into you without taking his time with you first. Each thrust drove you more and more insane, degraded you more and more to the point where you felt like nothing but his own, personal fuck toy. His own whore who spread her legs so willingly, she became a desperate slut for her master.

He pulled at the plug again, laughing when you jumped. “So much tighter with this thing in your ass.”

“Papa - it… it’s t-too much!”

“You should have respected your Papa, then maybe he’d treat you delicately, hm?”

“Papa, please!”

“You can take it, can’t you?”

He was met with a loud moan.

“Can’t you, puttanella?”

“Y-yes!”

“Of course you can. Only sluts can take a cock this big.”

You forced your hand in between your body and the mattress and found your clit, rubbing at it while Secondo pounded into you. It was a struggle, and made Secondo laugh at you as you tried. He put more weight onto your body to make it more difficult for you, but you were able to get there eventually and furiously play with that bundle of nerves and work yourself to the edge.

“I love looking at you like this.” He said suddenly, watching your arm move as you rubbed faster and faster. You looked so desperate for him. So needy. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked as he felt you getting tighter for him, the telltale signs making themselves present. “You gonna cum all over Papa’s cock like a whore?”

“Yes, Pa-pa!”

“Merda! Beg for it.”

“I n-need to cum s-oh bad Papa! Please! Pl-please let me cum on your f-fat cock.”

“Oh, just like that, brava ragazza. It’s okay, you can let go.”

Secondo could feel you getting tighter for him, working yourself closer and closer to an orgasm as he took you for his own pleasure, and for some of yours. He should pull out soon, he knew he should, but you were so tight for him in this position, so wet and pliant. He couldn’t control himself. He couldn’t bring himself to pull out and cum on your body. One particularly rough thrust had you finally tumbling over the edge, face contorting in beautiful agony as you came over him, creaming on his cock and screaming silently into the mattress. He didn’t let up as you came, instead, he used your body tensing as an excuse to go just a little harder, making your orgasm more intense the longer it went on.

Your orgasm had Secondo teetering on the edge himself, staving off his own orgasm to ensure yours felt good. But once he was sure you’d finished, he began to pull out of you, finally working the courage to escape from your clutches. It wasn’t until he felt your heels in his ass, where your legs had bent backwards to keep him there, he realised you wanted his cum inside you just as much as he did.

“Please, Papa!” You begged quietly, lifting your head off the sheets and turning to look at him over your shoulder. “Give it to me. I want your cum inside me so fucking bad. Please!”

“Yeah, amore? You want me to knock you up, is that it? So desperate for her Papa’s cum she wants him to breed her like a bitch. Been in heat all day, still acting like a fucking animal.”

“Give it to me, Papa! Cum deep inside me, please!”

“Okay, angioletta. Papa will give you what you want.” He pushed himself deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Gonna fuck a baby into you, you ready?”

“Yes! Yes, Papa, like that!”

“Cazzo!” A string of expletives followed as you talked him through it, continuing to beg him for his seed while he pumped it deep inside you. He gripped hold of you, your skin and fat pinched tightly under his strong, masculine hands as he grasped onto you to keep him grounded while he reached nirvana. He bent forward more, his forehead rubbing against your shoulder blades and paints transferring onto the fabric of your dress, but you didn’t care about that, enjoying the feeling of his erratic thrusts as he fucked his cum into your sensitive heat until he eventually rolled to a stop, laboured breaths ringing in your ear despite his mouth being so far away.

“Sathanas, ___.” He groaned, keeping his full weight on your body, too exhausted to move. “Mi farai morire.” You felt his lips kiss your shoulder blades, the dull feeling bringing warmth and comfort to your adrenaline-filled body.

“Are you okay?” You asked, equally as exhausted as him.

“No.” He replied with a giggle, which you echoed. “I can’t move anymore.”

“That’s okay, we can wait here for as long as you need.”

“The guests, amore mio.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

He groaned. “I don’t have the strength.”

You laughed at his joke.

Somewhere inside him, he found the strength to pull out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He rolled off you, and lay on his back, allowing his body to flop into any position it deemed comfortable. You didn’t know how he did that, you could barely keep your eyes open.

He looked at you before rushing to the bathroom to get a damp cloth to clean you up, gently wiping at your sensitive centre to try and help you. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“Nothing I didn’t want, Papa.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise.”

He placed the washcloth on the bedside table and pulled you into his arms, finally kissing your lips for the first time.

“Happy birthday, Papa.” You whispered.

Before he could respond, a knock at the door sounded gently, pulling your attention to it. “Fratello?” Cardinal Terzo’s voice sounded from the other side. “Now that you two have finished fucking, we should let you know we’re all gonna go.”

You hid your face in embarrassment despite the fact the only person who could see you was Secondo, who was laughing at your reaction.

“See you later, fratellino.”

“Later, sluts!”

There was a silence for a little while before Secondo heard the sound of your breathing mellowing out, realising then you’d fallen asleep before you both had chance to clean up properly. But that was okay, he could treat you like a queen in the morning. For now, you both needed rest.

Translations:

Buon pomeriggio - Good afternoon.

Ora - Now.

Questo è un cazzo di scherzo assoluto! - This is an absolute fucking joke!

Perché? - Why?

Sei stupido, Cardinale Smith? - Are you stupid, Cardinal Smith?

Non mi sorprende, Cardinale. - That does not surprise me, Cardinal.

Angioletta - Little angel.

Capisce? - Do you understand?

Grazie, amore mio. - Thank you, my love.

Che cos’è questo? - What’s this?

Che cazzo? - What the fuck?

Puttana. - Whore.

Brava ragazza. - Good girl.

Mi farai morire. - You’re gonna kill me.

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[ghulehunknown]

Waking up with Papa Headcanons 💤

The below contains Safe For Work headcanons! Gender neutral reader

This morning I woke up daydreaming about having a Papa in my bed and all the cute cuddling and pillow talk we’d do 🥹

Primo

He’s already awake and brushing his teeth by the time you wake up

He’s made you a cup of tea, waiting for you on the bedside table

Kisses you sweetly on the forehead and hugs you before he leaves for the day

Says you are welcome to stay in his bed as long as you want

Secondo

You wake up to his arms protectively wrapped around your body

He already woke up long before you did, but wants to spend as much time with you as possible and didn’t want to leave yet

Has time for a quick cup of coffee and light conversation while he gets ready

Kisses you before leaving

Terzo

You wake up to him planting kisses on your neck and face

Your limbs are all tangled together because he’s wrapped himself tight around you in the night

He can’t get close enough to you and agonizes about leaving because all he wants to do is lay in bed with you all day and do nothing but watch TV and talk

You’re the first one to leave bed; he keeps pulling you back for more kisses, no matter how much you protest that you’re running late (and so is he)

Copia

He’s still snoring but is sleeping on his side, cuddling you with his hand on your waist, drool coming out of his mouth

Smiles when he wakes up and sees you next to him

Spends most of the free time staring into your eyes and talking with you before getting ready

Pulls you in tighter when you get up, and lets out an exasperated groan. “So soon, tesoro?”

Nihil

Laying flat on his back snoring with his mouth wide open

It takes a while to wake him up

Complains about what terrible sleep he got while you lay on his chest as he rubs your back soothingly before getting up for the day

He’s very slow to move or get ready at all, unless he has an important meeting

[da-rulah]

Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: 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... 

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex 

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.  

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.  

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry. 

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.  

And he'd been right.... 

8 Years Ago. 

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.  

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"  

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.  

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."  

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite? 

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."  

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.  

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."  

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"  

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.  

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.  

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.  

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?  

"You don't mean that." 

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.  

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-" 

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.  

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."  

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.  

"If you go, I will never forgive you."  

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.  

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?  

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.  

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.  

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.  

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him. 

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.  

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.  

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality. 

But it was too late. 

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.  

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.  

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.  

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover. 

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.  

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left. 

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.  

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.  

Then he'd never seen you again.  

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.  

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.  

He had to face you.  

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.  

Papa.  

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.  

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.  

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that. 

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.  

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."  

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.  

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa. 

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night. 

"I... It's... You look well." 

That was it? That was all he could say to you?  

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour. 

"As do you." 

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.  

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now. 

"Troppo (me too)." 

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.  

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-" 

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.  

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...  

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.  

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.  

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.  

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.  

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.  

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now. 

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now? 

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath. 

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.  

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.  

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.  

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.  

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.  

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.  

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck. 

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.  

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.  

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago. 

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.  

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.  

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.  

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.  

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”  

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.  

He always did used to say you took his breath away... 

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...” 

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.  

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.  

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.  

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.  

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.  

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.  

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”  

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.  

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.  

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened. 

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character. 

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years. 

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.  

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.  

“The biggest mistake I ever made.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.  

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar? 

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.” 

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.  

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.  

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor. 

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back. 

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised. 

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity. 

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed. 

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.  

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.  

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.” 

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.  

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?” 

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were. 

“You can tell me why.” 

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”  

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for? 

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.  

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!” 

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched. 

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!” 

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance. 

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.  

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.” 

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck. 

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor. 

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood. 

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.” 

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian. 

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.” 

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.” 

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...” 

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.  

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.  

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy. 

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.  

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.  

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.  

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.  

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.” 

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”  

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.” 

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.  

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?  

Everything. Anything.  

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”  

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.” 

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that. 

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.  

“But... I thought you said-?” 

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart. 

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were. 

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...” 

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?  

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”  

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through. 

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.  

Finally, here you were.  

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now. 

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears. 

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...” 

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.  

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.  

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged. 

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.  

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.  

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.” 

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.” 

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.  

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.  

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.  

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.  

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...” 

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...  

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him. 

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met. 

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.  

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below. 

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.  

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.  

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.  

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason. 

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.  

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.  

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.  

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.  

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.  

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.  

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.  

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.  

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another... 

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...  

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.  

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages. 

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.  

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him. 

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.  

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment. 

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.  

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.  

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.  

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.  

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.  

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.  

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”  

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more. 

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him. 

“Secondo...”   

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.  

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.  

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.  

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.  

Home. This was home.  

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.  

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.  

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.  

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.  

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.  

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.  

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together. 

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.  

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice. 

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.  

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.” 

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.  

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually. 

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly. 

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).” 

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.  

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.  

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: Otctober 31st - Free Use (All Papas x Female!Reader)

AAAAAH, Happy Halloween lovelies!!! Last day of kinktober too, hope this satisfies your sinful desires! Have a fun night, everyone <3

Tags: Free Use, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sexual Partners(MMFMM), All The Papas Are Alive, Creampie, Bukkake, Cunilingus, Triple Penetration, Premature Ejaculation, Praise, Degradation, 1st Person POV

It was game night for the Emeritus brothers. Uno was the game they were playing, despite it always making them fight and end up throwing their cards at each other. But then again, there were hardly any games those men could play together that didn't result in raging. I would know, for I was politely asked by the Papas to cater for all their game nights since it all began.

It was no doubt that I was very close to them all, everybody in the Ministry could see it, so they would often find any excuse for me to be around them. I was their favorite, and they would remind me of that consistently with their actions, fighting each other off for my attention. They especially loved me because I had a sort of 'free use' dynamic between all of them. I would let them use me whenever and however they pleased. When they were in need of a good fuck, or just to let some frustrations out, I was always there to provide. Because of this perk, I would see the highest ranking men of the Ministry at their weakest and angriest, all while stuffing little sandwiches and alcohol into their mouths. It's pretty entertaining, to say the least.

It was the first night Copia was invited to the party, having recently ascended to Papa Emeritus IV, he was finally welcomed to join the infamous Papal game night. I walked in on a bad time, Terzo and Secondo screaming at each other, getting up in each others faces and heatedly debating who called Uno first. Primo and Copia just watched it all unfold, Primo shaking his head in disapproval and Copia fidgeting with his thumbs awkwardly. They didn't even notice I entered the room, not until I spoke.

"Uh... drinks, anyone?" I asked meakly, presenting the tray of whiskey and wine that they had told me to bring down. Their eyes shot towards me, instantly softening and humming appreciatively. Terzo waved me over.

"Ah, Sorella!" He beamed, dawning a charming smile, replacing the menacing scowl that he held just moments ago. "Grazie, cara mia. We were almost starting to become sober again, I suppose that made us lose our minds a little. I can't stand these fools without a little intoxication..." He chuckled, picking up a glass of wine from the tray and taking a swig. Secondo scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Drink for you too, Papa?" I address Secondo, handing him the whiskey he requested. He smiles softly and nods, taking a sip. "Grazie, Sister ____." He thanks me. I hand out the rest of the drinks to the men, Copia taking a particularly large sip and almost downing it completely. Terzo rolls his eyes.

"Agh, tesoro mio, don't hand any more drinks to that damned fool! We all know he can't handle his wine! He's a poor excuse for an Italian." Terzo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exaggeration. Copia shot him a dirty look.

"Poor excuse for an Italian?" Copia repeated, offended. "Excuse me, but weren't you born in Los Angeles? You're barely even Italian, stronzino."

"Stai zitto cazzo, ratto bastardo!" Terzo spat, slamming his fists on the table and leaning over to get all up in Copias face. Wow, touched a nerve there. Primo began scolding them in Italian while they continued to yell over each other, and Secondo kept barking at them to shut up in between sips of his liquor. The room was so loud. Clearly the alcohol wasn't calming them down, so what would?

"Whoever shuts up the fastest gets to fuck me." I blurt out without thinking. It was worth a shot, and I was desperate to end the overstimulating cacophony of voices. They all close their mouths simultaneously, eyes widening and darting towards me, silently questioning if they heard me right. They are speechless for a moment.

"Did... did we hear you right, mio fiore?" Primo mutters softly. I nod. "Mhm. You did indeed."

"So... what? Is this like the quiet game now then, eh?" Terzo laughs, a little stifled by nerves. I never saw the usually confident, loud and extravagant Papa so flustered.

"Yeah. And you just lost." I tease jokingly, enjoying the effect I was having on them. They were all so awkward and bashful, blushing and looking at me with concealed desire, like they were nervous to make a first move. These tough, stoic, charming grown men, weakened from just a single sentence.

"Wha-? Hey, that's not fair! T-that means Primo's out too!" He whines, stomping his foot and pointing an accusing finger to the eldest Emeritus. "Nah, Primos back in. I like him too much."

"Aw! Grazie, my dear." Primo smiled.

"Ha, you spoke! You're out again, old man!" Terzo cheered.

"A-am I still in?" Copia inquired softly. Terzo burst out laughing.

"Not anymore, dumbass." Muttered Secondo under his breath, Terzo clutching his sides as he howled.

"Okay, enough!" I end the feuding once again, a small, mischievous smile playing on my lips. "All of you have way too much energy. This night is never going to end if you're too busy fighting to play the damn game. So how about..." I trail off.

"What is it, cara?" Secondo asks gently, an arm across his lap to poorly conceal his developing erection. I take a breath in.

"How about you all take turns... taking your frustrations out on me?" I suggest weakly, looking down at my feet. I'll admit, I've had sex with all of them before, but individually. Never at the same time! They exchanged glances of shock and arousal, debating taking up the offer.

"Y-you want us to fuck you?" Copia stammered, the most flustered out of all of them.

"Obviously that's what she's asking, you fucking imbecile." Terzo sneers rudely.

"Hey! No more being rude!" I scold, already feeling the heat gathering in my core. The idea of being passed around by these significantly older men like I'm some object to be traded sends waves of excitement throughout my veins.

"Fine. Only if I get to fuck that pretty cunt first, Sorella." Terzo smirks, licking his lips hungrily as he looks me up and down. I sigh, looking at the other men for any sign of disapproval. Their expressions are for the most part unreadable, not wanting to influence me and leave this decision up to me and my comfort level. I nod.

"Take me then, Terzo." I offer. Just like that, he's on me, pressing sloppy kisses to my neck and collar bone. He swipes the cards off the table, slamming me down on my back. Well, there goes Uno. He strips me down, leaving me nude and exposed to everyone in the room. My legs are spread, cunt frivolously on display, my wetness already visible to the men who stared at me like animals about to feed on their prey.

He bends down, licking a long stripe up my slit, getting a taste of my arousal. "Fucking delicious. My favorite meal." Terzo claims, muffled against my folds, as he dives right back in. As he eats me out, I look around the room, at the other Papas who have shed their pants and are now jerking themselves off to the sight of me, brazen and unashamed with their movements. Their dark eyes were trained on me, tracking every slight jiggle of my body as I squirmed. Holy shit, this was hotter than I thought it was going to be.

"Can I put my cock in your mouth, fiorellina?" Primo asks politely, inching closer to me slowly.

"Fuck! N-no fair, I was just about to ask her that!" Copia pouted, sighing in defeat. Primo smirks cockily and awaits my response. "Fuck yes!" I cry out, opening my mouth to him. I suck the tip in, moaning around his length. He began to gently fuck my throat, pulling out occasionally to give me the opportunity to breath. Primo swears under his breath, head lulled back in bliss.

Terzo, ever the impatient one, grows tired of not feeling my warmth around his cock, as much as he loves eating pussy. He needed to be inside me, freeing himself of his pants and boxers before plunging in, thrusting with no preparation, no warning. This was for his pleasure, and of course he wanted to make me feel good as well, but his main focus was his throbbing member.

Popping off Primos dick to take a breather, I rub him softly and turn my head to face Copia. "Y-you two could take t-turns using my mouth." I stutter, hard to speak with Terzos impressive manhood pounding me into oblivion. Lucifer, I hope the table doesn't break under the pressure. I fear for my life as I hear its legs creaking with every movement. Copia's eyes lit up, immediately sliding his cock into my wet mouth, groaning at the feeling.

"Cazzo! So damn good!" Copia cries out, thrusting a few times before switching back to Primos turn, and the process repeats. Terzo chuckles above me, hips snapping feverishly. "Trust me, her cunt feels even better." He brags, thumb rubbing my clit. Secondo growls, the only one not getting direct satisfaction from me.

"You have to give me something, dolcezza. This isn't fair." He gruffs, not intending on coming off as demanding, but the frustration is clearly getting to him heavy.

"Do you want to use her asshole, fratello? It's free." Terzo offers, pulling out before flipping me to the side, stepping to the left to give a full view of my hole. Terzo plunges back in my cunt, my asshole clenching, further tempting Secondo. He shudders, taking a step forward and using his spit as lubricant, stretching my ass out with his fingers. Primo and Copia continue taking turns fucking my mouth, until Copias breath starts to quicken, hips stuttering. He's too late to stop himself.

"Wait, oh shit!" He cums, countless ropes decorating my face, his thick thighs shaking deliciously from the intensity. "Goddammit..." He groans, coming down from his high. "I wanted to last longer..." I run my thumb over the still warm cream covering me, collecting some and sticking it in my mouth, tasting the salty release. He shivers at the sight.

"So beautiful..." He praises softly, looking down at me as if I was a gift from Lucifer himself, blessed with the beauty of Lilith.

"And such a whore, too." Secondo comments, finally inching his cock into my ass. The stretch was mind blowing, his cock the fattest out of all the other Papas, and the hardest to take by far. I feel like crying. "Taking four men in one night. You like being a slut for your Papas, don't you, Sister ____?" Before I can reply, Primo has shoved his dick back in my mouth, the taste of his precum flooding my senses.

Terzo is the second to cum, and if anything, I'm surprised he didn't cum first with how wildly he was thrusting. Still though, he makes me cum first, pulsing around his dick as my desperate screams are muffled by Primos fat cock. He slams his hips one last time, spilling his seed deep within my willing walls, a string of expletives exiting his foul mouth. "You're the perfect fuck toy, tesoro..." He huffs contently, pressing a chaste kiss to my shoulder before pulling out, leaving his cum to leak from my aching, puffy pussy.

Now it's Secondo and Primo left, a race to the finish line. Secondo fucks my ass with reckless abandon, not as rough and hard as Terzo did, but still quite fast, like his hips were running a marathon. "Are you liking this, my little flower?" Primo asks, stroking my hair sweetly as he bucks into my throat, looking down at me and attentively watching every little reaction I made to make sure I was still doing okay. I moan positively around his manhood.

"Yeah? Is il mio fratellino making you feel good with his dick?" He coos, maintaining eye contact while my lips are sinfully wrapped around him. "My, my. Look at you. You look so beautiful with all that seed all over your face. Wearing it with pride, like a true common whore should." I've never heard Primo talk down to me, usually it's all praise coming from him. That's enough to make me cum again, squirting around nothing, Secondos hand coming to my clit to help me ride out my orgasm.

Primos cum joins Copias load, mixing together and shooting across my cheek. "You should see her face now, Secondo. She's filthy." Primo heaves, sucking in all the air he can get after I knocked the wind out of him. Secondos brows furrow. "Fucking hell!" He roars, pulling out and pumping himself a few times before spilling all over my ass cheeks.

After pleasuring all the Papas, I've never felt more deliciously humiliated. Naked, covered in the cum of multiple men, all three of my holes aching so good. This is what I was meant to do. I've never felt more in my element than I do now. We all rest in silence for a moment, unsure of where to proceed from here. Terzo is the first to speak up, but it's not something I wanted to hear.

"I guess we're going to have to restart Uno...?"

I don't know what to do if they start arguing again.

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