#terzo is a bottom

[zekeodile]

You are my moon, mi amore.

You had never been close to the elusive man. Every past attempt to get more than a passing conversation had not gone as planned, and you had all but given up hope. Terzo, or otherwise affectionately known as Papa III, had always interested you in more ways than one. He was humorous on stage, as you had seen in some of his recent performances, and he always made you chuckle. Not to mention he was good-looking. Alas, you were never able to get more than a few words in to him.

But now, as he stood there in the doorway of your quarters, disheveled from restless sleep and a certain look in his eye, you begin to think you may have a chance to get very up close and personal tonight.

[kabukiaku]

giving you the eyes. 😏✨💜

left this bad boy in drafts for too long. it was time I cleaned it up. I went crazy with the lighting. I wanted it to be dramatic, like Terzo!

[profanepurity]

Arguing with your brother during a meeting with three demons that can only be so patient for so long.

[divine-misfortune]

bottom omega thoughts?🎤

Bottom omega....

Just think about him laid out in Terzo'a bed, arm thrown over his face, the prettiest shade of indigo creeping down his chest while Terzo works him open that first time. It's not that Terzo stretches him out horribly by any means, but fuck it feels good to lay there and let his lover experience every inch or him. Let terzo crook three fingers into him and lazily suckle on the tip of his cock despite how it barely fits in his mouth, till Omega keens for him. Voice pitching out in a little cry for him.

He looks so big straddling the human, his hand splayed out on his chest. It's comedic but the sight of him goes straight to his dick. It looks even more amusing laid on Terzo's belly, leaking continuously. He knows Terzo might just break if he took his cock but the thought puts butterflies in his belly.

Terzo underestimates ghouls and their hellish stamina, Omega coaxes more than one orgasm out of him before he even gets close himself but Terzo is so giving. He only whimpers a bit even Omega starts to go tight around him, digging his fingers into his thighs while the ghoul happily fucks himself in his more than overstimulated cock. He thinks he could just die like this - Omega some secret incubus sent to suck his soul, amongst other things, from him, and hes more than willing to let him take it.

Or maybe Alpha getting him face down, arm twisted behind his back. Maybe he's been stripped down to nothing, face forced against the polished floorboards of the chapel, mouth and dick both drooling for it as Alpha pops the head of his cock inside of him, raspy voice chastising him for being so fucking easy.

Allowing himself to be fucked like some cheap whore in w place of worship? What would Papa think if he could see him like this? Oh what a disappointment he is. How ashamed he should be. The thought makes him moan, a low wounded sound echoing around them.

Alpha slaps his ass hard and laughs, warns him he might want to keep it down if he doesn't want any curious passersbys to catch Papa's big strong ghoul being mounted like a bitch in heat.

Or fuck - Aether getting to fold him in half. Aether getting to pop his knot inside of Omega while Omega calm and collected despite it talks him through. His first time getting to knot. It's cute how eager his apprentice is to please.

Aether sounds more affected by it than he does, panting like a dog as he watches it swelling slowly. Catching somewhat every time he bottoms out, it's a tease of what to come and it's mind melting. He's sure his brain has gone to mush, uselessly babbling about needing to feel it, needing Omega to milk his cock. Sweet boy's eyes rolled back into his head and just about stayed there.

Omega is nothing but praise, telling him he's gonna fill him with that fat little knot. Promising it'll feel better than anything he's had. Just gotta be a good boy and give it to him.

I think power bottom Omega will be Aether's undoing (and mine).

[nihildenial]

"Fifty Shades of Pink" a Papa Emeritus III x Omega fic

SMUT UNDER CUT

one chapter ; wc: 6,586

There wasn’t much that could surprise Omega anymore. He’s been topside for about six years now, served as rhythm guitarist for three Papas, and performed countless ritual performances.

This, however, was something new.

“Isn’t it perfecto ?” The short man in front of him throws his arms wide and does a slow spin.

Omega simply blinks his lavender eyes and tries his best to think of a way to put what he’s thinking into nice-enough words. Why the hell did he agree to go to the cobbler to pick up the Terzo’s loafers and leave his kin with the man? “It’s…tailored nicely.”

Terzo Emeritus, Papa Emeritus III, a forty-three year old, pouts like an affronted child. He turns back to the large floor length mirror and takes in his appearance from the tailors’ platform. “I think I look like I belong in one of those fancy Ivy League college fraternities! Alpha told me pink was my color. Imagine a beer in my hand.”

Omega should fuck him in this cove more often.

“You took advice from Alpha? The Ghoul who still puts on different colored socks because he’s too lazy to find a pair from his dresser?”

The raven-haired man huffs, ���You were too busy with Francesco! Maybe if you weren’t such a bossy-pants, you would have been here. I think I’ll keep it like this just to show you that I do look handsome.”

Omega sets down the several pairs of ties and socks on the vacant chair next to the platform. Of course his kin would disappear when someone had to tell Terzo he looked like a bottle of pepto-bismol. “I didn’t say you weren’t handsome. It’s tailored well to your figure. The color on the other hand…”

“Pink is the new black! Slimming for the masculine shape, and feminine to complement the olive tone of my sun-kissed Italian tan.”

The large Quintessence Ghoul sighs, “Just humor me and try the gold that we originally agreed on.”

“No!” Terzo steps off the platform, losing the extra inches of height. “I like this. We’re going to check out and go back to the Ministry.”

“You look like a child dressed for church.” He could pick the small man up with one hand and shake him like a naughty toddler.

Terzo flips a loose bang out of his eyes, “I’ll let you be the first to take it off me.”

Omega holds back a grumble, “What is the horrible pink shirt for anyway? You’re still getting the white suit, right?”

“Of course, I’m getting the white suit! This is for a new music video; Sister Imperator finally said the budget was thick enough to shoot it,” His fingers make sure the Grucifix cufflinks are facing the same direction, leading Omega and his purchases to the Ralph Lauren counter.

“Mr. Emeritus, I see the tailor was able to make those adjustments for you.” The woman flashes a polite smile.

Omega sees it falter a bit as he feels his four kin reappear at his side. Of course, Alpha has damn pink socks. “We are not getting pink socks too.”

Alpha puts the offending socks on top of Omega’s well-chosen accessories. “He looks good in pink.”

“I’m buying the damn socks, Omega,” Terzo affirms and lets the woman take all the items to begin scanning.

Omega could be petty and not hand over the Ministry credit card, but Terzo strikes him with a look that promises a reward for being good. “Fine,” He grumbles and nudges Alpha out of the way so he can sign the receipt. The woman hands back the large items in several bags and the five glamoured hellbeasts follow their leader out onto the busy 5th Avenue streets. Glamouring all of them, they walk undisturbed down the block to where a sleek SUV idles.

“That’s what you spent all that time getting fitted for?” Is the first thing out of Sister Imperator’s mouth when they all pile into the car. A bag of clothing for some of the Sisters of Sin sits by her feet in the passenger seat.

Omega sits directly behind her, letting her take in Terzo in the driver side middle seat. “I said the same thing.”

“We like it, Papa,” Pebble chirps from the third row, “All of us back here do.”

Alpha and Mist nod.

All eyes turn to Zephyr, who is unfortunately stuck sitting between Omega and Terzo. “I mean…Papa can make anything look fetching.”

Terzo claps a hand on the air Ghoul’s shoulder, “Majority rules! Now, let us get back to the Abbey so I can make sure the equipment is ready for shooting tomorrow.”

Sister Imperator pinches the bridge of her nose, but nods for the Brother of Blasphemy to go ahead and drive away.

“I made sure we got the white suit, at least,” Omega watches the bustling city slowly crawl past them in traffic.

“I knew I could count on you, Omega,” She says, reaching back and patting the Ghoul’s knee.

—

For the music video of He Is , the Ghouls weren’t needed as actors or instrumentalists, so Terzo gave them all the day off–except for Omega.

“Your punishment for yesterday is that you get to spend the day with us as we shoot.” It’s like four in the morning so they could get the shots down at the river around mid afternoon.

He wants to whine like a Ghoul kit. “They’re going hunting! Deer season just began!”

“Maybe I’ll take pity on you after the lunch break,” Terzo chides with a wink, “Now sit in your chair and be good for Papa. You can be my waterboy.”

Omega would do most anything for him. Sitting and zoning out while his beautiful Papa twirls his dramatic ass around a sound stage may sound like a relaxing afternoon, but his kin are out frolicking among the large forest and hunting.

Terzo stands on his tip-toes to presumably kiss Omega, but the antipope simply smacks his lips a hair’s breadth away and bounds out of the Ghoul’s arms.

That motherfucker, Omega sits back in the shitty makeup-chair with a huff.

Sister Rebecca raises a beauty blender. Her brown eyes are bright as she’s nearly bouncing in place/ “Could I try something on you? I got a new, thinner foundation to use for you and the Ghouls in an upcoming photoshoot.”

He sees how hopeful she is. She wasn’t chosen by Sister Imperator to be in the music video because of her skills at makeup. Both of them were stuck watching this anyway.

Omega reaches up and undoes his mask. “Knock yourself out. Don’t be offended if I fall asleep.”

“I also have some head massage techniques I could try out…?” She grins.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

A few hours pass with Omega submitting to anything Sister Rebecca wanted.

The new foundation she got did make his hell-soot colored skin more luminous, and flattened some pores that he’s been a bit self-conscious of. She smudged some eyeliner here, a small dusting of brightening powder on his eyelids, and something moisturizing that tastes like cherries on his lips.

Omega can’t help the happy rumble when her manicured hands reward him with a truly sinful scalp massage. Thankfully it isn’t loud enough to disrupt the filming across the room, but Sister Imperator does shoot them a glare that sobers both of them up enough to stop.

“That’s a wrap!” Comes the director’s call.

“This was really helpful, Omega, thank you.” The sister begins to put away most of the new makeup. She leaves out Terzo’s papal paint in case he needs to reapply during any of the recording.

He looks at himself in the mirror, “I feel good in this. Much better than the grease paint of the last tour.”

She huffs a laugh, “Yeah, that stuff was disgusting to work with and have on. Here’s some wipes to take it off.”

Omega takes in the nearly flawless quality of his charcoal skin, “Actually, I might keep it on for a bit. See how it wears.”

“Of course, I’ll leave those here,” She rolls the makeup suitcase with her as she follows the production crew towards the Abbey sanctuary.

In the mirror he can see the reflection of Terzo talking to the two young children that were in the video. Their father was an archbishop from the Salem Ministry, and was one of the only clergy members with young enough twin children.

Terzo was always so great with people. It breaks Omega’s heart that he and his kin hold the man’s love and there’s little chance for mini-Terzos to come into being.

“ Grazie, miei dolci bambini ,” The antipope pats their heads, eliciting delighted laughs as the boy and girl toddle over to their watchful father and mother. He struts to Omega, taking a long swig from the water bottle Omega was tasked with keeping. “Wasn’t I absolutely sinful?”

The Quintessence Ghoul inclines his head, “There’s hardly been a time when you’re not. It was good to see those kids so happy.”

“ Sono una famiglia adorabile , quite the lovely little family, no?” Terzo smiles. He steps forward to peer around Omega’s back.

“What do you think? I let Sister Rebecca experiment with some new shit,” He turns fully to face the antipope. He relishes the shocked flush that crawls through the cracks of Terzo’s papal paint.

For once the man is rendered speechless. His mouth opens and closes like one of the fish Pebble caught the other day in the Abbey lake. “I…”

Omega sees his chance to get some payback, “I think I should let her do this more often, yes?” He makes sure most of the room has cleared (mostly just making sure Imperator is gone) and uses his larger form to back Terzo against the vanity counter. He lets his hands rest on those beautifully familiar and full hips and leans down.

Terzo takes the bait and sighs happily into their shared breath–except Omega smacks his lips together and pulls back before their lips could meet. “It’s a shame, really. My lip balm is cherry-flavored."

The shorter man’s mismatched green and white eyes fly open in betrayal, “You motherfucker!”

Omega folds up the vanity chair and saunters to the doorway, “I might take pity on you after lunch.” He grins at the imaginary lasers shooting him in the back.

—

Terzo and Omega have always been this way. One of them does something immature to the other, then other retaliates, then they make up by the fucking the absolute shit out of each other. It’s very much a game of cat and mouse or freeze-tag, making the four other Ghouls roll their eyes when an argument inevitably happens.

Terzo’s a little shit.

Omega’s a little shit in the form of a 6 ft 7 Quintessence Ghoul.

Nothing is better than the angry-eventually-loving makeup sex. Tonight was going to be quite a treat judging by the horny mini-glares Terzo gives him between shots of the He Is sanctuary scenes. Omega sits out of the way in his vanity chair and snacks on popcorn provided on the shooting table.

After another two hours of getting footage, the director calls for lunch. They’ll resume in another hour to begin the footage down by the river.

Omega doesn’t know necessarily what they’re going to shoot down there. But he hopes Mist is ripping into the throat of a deer on the banks and ruins their shot so he and Terzo can go fuck.

Speaking of, they do have an hour before resuming…

Terzo is engulfed in a mass of followers and Siblings. He drinks their attention as if he needs it to continue existing. He flashes that sharp smile that’s all shiny, white, perfect teeth and it makes Omega’s black heart do somersaults.

He likes to think that he controls the Antipope, but Terzo is a feral hellbeast in his own way. Even if Omega holds the man facedown against the mattress more times than Terzo rides him, Omega would fold faster to the man’s orders than the other way around.

The crowd moves towards the Dining Hall across the cloister courtyard, carrying Terzo with them. He doesn’t even spare the Ghoul a glance as the group filters outside.

Omega holds back a growl. So that’s how it’s going to be.

Lunch flys by. Omega tears into a pack of beef jerky and one of Pebble’s edibles. If he got upset, then he can go fuck off. Omega’s horny as shit and being forced to be a waterboy for a frustratingly beautiful and petty man while Pebble got to sink his fangs into a tender deer flank.

By the time they resume filming at the hill that leads to the Wallkill river, Pebble’s edible has kicked in and relaxed him some. Which is good because his anger shoots back up as Terzo steps out into the mid-afternoon sun in that damned pink shirt under a white waistcoat.

He looks like a douchebag actor in an American frat movie! Paired with black aviator sunglasses, it screams the wrong kind of self-assertion. But then again, Omega hasn’t really thought about what He Is is about…and it begins to make sense as they start filming.

So, he’s been an asshole for no reason. The song is a parody of Christian baptism rock. Guilt rises in Omega’s chest. How many times has he performed this damned song and not understood what it meant?

The Quintessence Ghoul watches the group film shots of a handful of Sisters of Sin frolic in the meadow that covers the path down to the riverbank. Their flowing white dresses and long hair twirl in the gentle breeze.

It is a nice day. Omega turns his face towards the sun and feels how the foundation moves on his cheeks. He’ll never get tired of being out in the topside sun. The heat from the planet is a pleasant warmth compared to the spikes of fire from the Pits.

He hears water splash. Down at the edge of the grass, Terzo is wading into the water, while in that stupid outfit.

Part of Omega’s brain purrs in happiness knowing the brackish water will destroy the offending shirt but also–What the Hell is he doing? That outfit alone cost nearly $3,000, and they bought it just yesterday!

Despite the conflict within Omega, he ultimately decides to sit still. He’ll give Terzo a reprimand after he’s done being a destructive little shit. So he sits, watching the Sisters remove their sandals and wade in a bit aways from Terzo.

All of them are only waist-deep. Are they going to do some sort of synchronized swimming routine? Omega doesn’t remember Terzo being very good at keeping afloat just by himself.

To Omega’s disbelief, the first Sister wades to Terzo and he takes her hands in his right, cradling her against his chest. Her blonde curls flare in the wind coming off the water.

Terzo’s free hand comes up to rest at the back of her skull and he dips her back into the water.

Her perfectly tan hand slides up to his jaw, a teasing thumb brushing against the black paint of his upper lip.

Terzo submerges her entirely then helps her upright, the water rushing from her plump form. Her white choir robe clings to her now stiffly peaked nipples. His hand that held her stomach sneakily cups her right breast during the sloshing of the cold river water.

Omega wouldn’t typically be that upset; he’s always up for a third (or fourth, fifth, and so on) to join him and the Antipope. The Sister is extremely beautiful and has always been kind to the Ghouls, but this bastardization of a water baptism taking place in front of Omega after Terzo was being so fucking petty, absolutely makes Omega’s pointed ears burn with jealousy.

One by one, the baptism continues five more times. Each one has some naughty tease between Terzo and the Sister: the next one gasps out a moan at the cold water when she comes up, the third one unbuttons the infuriatingly pink top button of his shirt, and the fourth Sister’s breasts are basically exposed through the now-soaked white robe.

The fifth woman is more bold than the rest. When the brunette cuddles into Terzo’s baptismal embrace, her hand follows the same path as those before her–up to cup the blurred edge of his papal paint on Terzo’s jaw. He leans her back and submerges her.

She’s guided back up with Terzo’s steady hands (hands that are usually gripping Omega’s white hair as the Ghoul fucks the Hell out of him) and as she lets the face drip from her face, she leans forward and catches his lips.

Terzo doesn’t hesitate to deepen it.

And on the far shore, four unglamoured Ghouls howl with the victory of a fresh kill. It echoes so loudly that it creates ripples on the mostly-calm river.

Omega’s Hell-beast blood boils.

He leaps up from his chair and stomps past the production crew and down to the water’s edge. He ignores the sound of the crew frantically packing up as the scent of ozone fills every molecule of the air by the riverbank.

“ Get the fuck off her !” Omega thunders in Ghoulish.

The Sister squeaks and pulls out of Terzo’s arms so fast she falls onto her ass in the water.

Terzo goes to help her up but Omega leaps from the bank and slams into the raven-haired man.

They collide and go underwater, Terzo’s hands grappling the front of Omega’s vestments as they resurface. The Antipope’s aviators are missing and he goes to search for them but Omega pulls him away from the shore.

“ You make me sit here all day, tease me, and now you decide to snog a Sister during a fake baptism, in front of all these strangers?!” Omega growls as he bodily drags the now fully soaked Antipope to a mostly-submerged cove just out of sight. He tosses Terzo onto the small silver of a rocky beach, making sure it’s enough to bruise, but not actually hurt him.

Terzo spits out some brackish water to the side. His face is equal parts cocky and affronted, but the smirk on his ruined makeup grows as he takes in the Quintessence Ghoul’s burning eartips and heavy rut scent. “It was Sister Imperator’s idea-”

“ I know it fucking wasn’t. You’re just a whore.”

Terzo reclines on the beach as if he wasn’t just dragged through the water like a piece of lumber, “I never took you for a jealous teenage Ghoul.”

Omega snarls, frustration only building at the man’s continued sass. Doesn’t he know what danger he’s in? He trudges through the water and lets his glamour fully fall. He feels his horns reappear and his sleeves bulge as they barely contain the soot-black muscles Omega crafted over centuries as champion in the fighting Pits.

Instead of flinching, Terzo’s erection hardens in his wet trousers. “ Un ragazzo così grande …”

That tone immediately dismisses part of Omega’s fury. There’s appreciation and lust wrapped up in that sentence. How is he supposed to stay angry when Terzo becomes so riled up when he’s in his most authentic form?

“I’m still angry ,” The Ghoul says.

Terzo slicks back his sopping bangs, “I would hope so. I’ve been so naughty I deserve a punishment; merito una sculacciata . A good spanking would make me repent.”

Omega reaches forward and slices through the white vest and pink shirt with a long claw.

“Hey! Fuck you, we just bought this! I could have gotten the salt out of it.”

“You’ve been sitting in brackish water for the past two hours and now you’re upset?” Omega rips the offending material from the man’s body to float off in the water around them. “If anything, this is simply payback. I don’t think I should even touch you. I should leave you here to trudge back to shore; water-logged, naked, and messy-faced.”

Terzo play-struggles as Omega grips his chin tight enough for his claws to press in. The Quintessence Ghoul sees his mismatched eyes roll with pleasure.

“ Filthy .”

“The correct word is-” Terzo’s shit-eating grin grows.

Omega has him on his stomach in the next blink, claws raking down the man’s legs to shred the white trousers. He relishes the red scratches that follow his claws. “Shut the fuck up.”

Terzo lets out a groan and his hands grasp for purchase on the slippery rocks. “ Omega …oh, how you spoil your Papa.”

“Right now, you’re nothing more than my bitch.” Omega has to re-glamour his hands so he can pry apart Terzo’s slippery thighs. When the infuriating man wiggles his ass out of Omega’s grip, the Ghoul smacks the pert right cheek.

Terzo’s echoing gasp is beautiful. Water sloshes over him and pools in the hip dimples above his ass.

-

Terzo makes Omega carry him back to shore after a rough fuck in the cove. Indulging the man who did make him cum so hard his vision whited out isn’t the thing he has issue with. Staking a claim on Terzo has only partially satisfied him.

The shreds of the blasted pink shirt swirl in his wake as Omega trudges back to shore. As the Quintessence Ghoul walks back to the Abbey at the top of the hill, Terzo lounges in the strong arms.

Terzo idly plays with the black chest hair brushing against his cheek as Omega walks. “Why don’t you like me in pink again?”

“You’re better suited to richer tones.”

“Do you think purple is ugly on me as well?”

Omega rolls his eyes and sets Terzo on his feet as they reach the Abbey’s doors. “Of course not.”

“I would like a reason, per favore ,” Terzo ignores Omega holding open the doors for him.

“You simply look better in colors other than pink. Even going a shade darker like magenta would bring out the warm undertone in your skin.” Omega takes the human’s forearm and turns it over, tracing a claw over the thrumming veins below the skin.

Terzo blinks, “So you aren’t just doing this to spite me.”

Omega’s thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Spite you? For what?”

“Because I had the other Ghouls come with me to the fitting and had you come later,” Terzo admits sheepishly.

“I don’t care about that shit.”

Terzo hums, “So…you tackling me and pounding me into the rocks of a cave wasn’t a consequence of your jealousy from earlier this week?”

Omega takes a deep breath. “No. It’s because…I was jealous of the Sisters in the music video. How they got to hold you, how tender you were while you gave them an unholy baptism, all while wearing the shirt you knew I disliked…I want to feel like you hear my opinion.”

“Oh.” Is all Terzo can say. His face flushes in realization. “I probably was a bit mean and the gold was pretty… Mi dispiace .” He hugs Omega around the middle.

Omega sighs and pets the damp raven hair, “You’re too cute to stay upset with.”

“I promise to make it up to you,” Terzo’s smile is innocent but filled with the promise of something naughty.

The large Ghoul watches the naked antipope saunter inside without a care in the world. He passes a wary Sister Imperator and Cardinal Copia talking in the foyer without a second glance.

-

While the music video was in the editing phase, Sister Imperator called the band together to record ‘He Is.’ It only took a few times to get a good enough recording, and Sister rewarded them with a few days off.

Before Omega could even grasp the fact that he only had a few cleaning chores for the next two days, Terzo was rushing out of the studio room. Rolling his eyes, Omega reracks his guitar and chats with the producer about if there was anything he needed to drag Terzo back to fix.

“So, ‘Mega…want to come hunting with us?” Pebble’s tiny form pops up from behind the drum kit.

He thinks it over. He could go track down Terzo but potentially get turned away for the man to have a nap, or join his kin for the night. “Hunting sounds good.”

Pebble’s fanged grin is infectious. “Awesome! You missed out on Mist taking down a deer twice her size! It was so cool.” The two ghouls walk from the studio out into the courtyard where the other three Ghouls are stripping their clothes to hand to one of the sisters tasked with laundry.

“No more blood stains on these, please. It was impossible after yesterday’s hunt,” Sister Anais held out the basket already filled with Alpha and Zephyr’s uniforms. Mist is taking her time undoing her boots.

Omega easily undoes the buttons of his cassock.

“Now, you boys are going to be careful out there tonight, yes? The game Warden said there’s an excess of about thirty deer this season,” She says, nodding as all of them finish placing their clothes in her basket.

“Including the ones from yesterday?” Zephyr’s gray eyes brighten.

“No. New total based on the herds movement today. I’ll tell Papa all of you are leaving.”

Omega and his pack scamper through the courtyard (always careful of Primo’s topiaries) and out the gates to the hill that holds the forest on one side and the meadow that leads to the riverbank on the other. Once out of view from any Siblings, all of them let their Earthly glamours slip away.

Omega’s muscles have been crying out for him to move for a few days now. Even his hot tryst with Terzo in the cove wasn’t enough to fully drain all of his infernal adrenaline. He senses how the forest is filled with potential dinner, a group of deer only a mile away.

He drops to all fours and bounds away, leaving his mates to hopelessly beat him to the first kill.

Not many things were better than this.

-

It’s near midnight when the five Ghouls waddle back to the Abbey with bellies full of rabbit, fox, and deer. Thankfully they were able to stop before they hit the target overpopulated numbers. There’d be another night of hunting in a week or so.

Omega drops his body onto the Ghoul common room couch. He could sleep for a month, but then he’d miss Samhain and Terzo’s birthday.

Mist plops into the armchair by his head. “Those rabbits were so tender…” She purrs happily.

“My fox was delicious. I probably absorbed his wit and cunning.” Pebble maneuvers her so he can curl up with her.

There’s a collective eye roll from the pack.

“We’ll see if you stick a fork in the toaster again!” Alpha calls, snickering.

Omega closes his eyes as the pack continues to roast each other. He’s on the edge of falling asleep when footsteps come from the stairs down into the crypt that holds the Ghoul den. He cracks an eye open, seeing the common room is empty of his pack. He must have dozed for a bit longer than he thought.

The Quintessence Ghoul smells the air and relaxes as the scent of Maison Margiela’s Jazz Club fills his senses. “Terzo,” He says to the newcomer.

Terzo is dressed in a loose black t-shirt and baggy gray sweatpants. His face is empty of skull paint. “I was wondering if you were going to leave your poor Papa all alone in bed tonight,” He says innocently. His bare feet are barely audible as he steps up to the couch, tracing a finger down Omega’s strong nose.

“Sorry, we got back maybe an hour ago and I dozed off.”

“Va abbastanza bene , Omega. At least, it would be alright… if I got some special attention.”

Omega pulls the man’s hips until he’s straddling the Ghoul on the couch.

Terzo tsks, “Not here.”

“Then where?” Omega asks.

“My rooms, please.”

Omega exhales and lifts the man back to his feet. “You should’ve just called me to come upstairs.”

“I did. You didn’t pick up.” Terzo pulls out his iPhone. Sure enough, Omega missed three calls and three texts from him.

Shit. Time to turn on the romantic gestures. Omega picks up Terzo easily in his arms, one wrapped securely under his knees and behind his back. He regales Terzo with how the hunt went as they ascend the stairs and make it to the man’s papal suite.

Terzo locks the door and turns to Omega with a coy smirk. “Now, before we start anything, I did get you a surprise.”

Omega puts his slippers by the end of the bed. “Hmm, what for?” He asks, suspicious.

“Well you still believe I don’t look good in pink–”

“Terzo, are you seriously still thinking about that?” Omega gives him a pleading look. “I’m sorry I said that.”

Terzo nods, “Yes, yes; I forgive you for all that shit. Anyways…I thought I would show you that I do in fact look good in pink.” His hands take their time moving to the hem of the shirt he stole from Omega, then pull the garment up and over his head to toss carelessly on the floor.

Hidden by the bagginess of the shirt is a baby pink, sheer lace bralette embroidered with cherries and soft ruffles. Terzo doesn’t have a lot of area to be placed in a bralette, but the sheerness makes the illusion that he’s filling it out just a bit.

Terzo’s smirk grows as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Omega’s eyes are glued to the slow reveal of skin and matching pink lace hemline that appears as the sweatpants pool at the human’s ankles.

The front panel of the panties are the same pattern as the bralette cups. It leaves nothing to imagination as the leaky tip of Terzo’s cock just sticks out over the panty hemline. The soft looking ruffles continue over the high cut expanse of Terzo’s thighs to disappear to probably cup his ass perfectly.

“So what do you think?” Terzo turns in a circle, and Omega feels his blood drain to his cock.

He was correct about the ruffles. Omega is dumb with memorizing the sinful sight in front of him. “Oh..”

Terzo gently lifts his head by the chin, tearing Omega’s lavender eyes from roving over his body. He uses his leverage to move Omega backwards until the Ghoul’s knees hit the bed. Omega drops back to the bed, stuck in Terzo’s laser-focused gaze.

“Now, il mio gatto cattivo , no claws are allowed to rip this delicate outfit,” Terzo coos, easily lifting himself to straddle the Ghoul’s wide chest. “Premium Italian lace…Rip even a single stitch and you’ll be forced to watch your brethren have their way with me."

Omega snorts, cockiness rearing up at the demand even if he’s clearly losing the battle. “That’s still pretty hot.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that you would be strapped to that lovely St. Andrew’s Cross?”

Omega gulps and his claws shift to human fingers.

“That’s what I thought. Now touch me,” Terzo says sweetly, taking the Ghoul’s hands to rest on the cups of the bralette. “A few more spoonfuls of Nutella and I’ll fill these, probably. Copia’s been making too much carbonara recently.”

“I would still love you either way,” Omega’s hand cups the back of his neck and pulls the man down to seal their lips together.

Terzo’s voice is pitched with arousal and fondness. “Sap.”

Omega’s left hand slides over the pink lace of his sides and down to grab a handful of Terzo’s ass. According to his fingertips, it’s a thin thong in the back, the crotch band barely holding a glass plug inside him. Omega’s finger stretches the fabric and he snaps the thin waistband against the smooth side of the plug’s base.

Terzo yelps, “Watch it, asshole! That could’ve come apart!”

Omega shrugs and does it again. “Seems fine to me.” He presses a finger against the plug and forces it as deep as it can go without getting completely swallowed.

Terzo’s hole resists, turning it into a game that leaves him flushing as pink as his lingerie.

“Didn’t stretch all the way for this, huh?” Omega coos to the human.

“I like it when it burns at first,” Terzo says, even if both of them already know it.

Omega grasps the end of the plug and pulls it out in one smooth motion. He lets it roll from his hand to somewhere on the duvet of Terzo’s bed. They’ll deal with it after Terzo’s cock-dumb and knotted.

Terzo is pressing a tube of lube into the hand wrapped around his ass.

“When did you grab that?” Omega pops open the cap easily and spreads a good amount inside the human with invading fingers.

“I had it in the left cup,” He moans when Omega presses against his prostate.

Of course, the bralette cup Omega didn’t feel up. “Sneaky bastard ,” The Ghoul growls. He tosses the lube in the same direction as the glass butt plug. He lifts his hips and slides down the boxers he put on after getting back from the hunt. His cock springs to attention from its confines, the tapered tip slapping against the beginning swell of Terzo’s ass. It doesn’t take much maneuvering for Omega’s head to find Terzo’s hole and push in.

Terzo’s answering moan vibrates through Omega’s chest where the man’s immaculate fingernails dig into his pecs. The Ghoul didn’t notice the coating of nude pink on Terzo’s nails. That wasn’t there earlier…was it?

Nothing else matters as Omega pushes himself inside all the way to the hilt. He feels Terzo’s ass resist him near the end but a carefully placed kiss to the human’s neck makes him relax easier.

“I bought this…so we could fuck and keep it on…” Terzo pants into Omega’s hair.

“So thoughtful,” Omega sighs happily. His hands shift to cup an asscheek in each, forcing Terzo’s center of gravity over his face and leaning on his hands on either side of Omega’s ears. It puts the cherry-embroidered bralette cups right in his face. He cranes his neck and sucks at a nipple through the lace.

Terzo squirms at the first few slow thrusts, trying to frustrate Omega enough that he’ll speed up without any begging.

“You’re so beautiful in this,” Omega fucks up into him deeper. He’s so slick and warm and perfectly fluttering against the ribbed sides of his engorged cock. Every steadily increasing speedy thrust makes Terzo moan like a whore.

As wonderful a feeling as all of this is, Terzo is far from his twink past where he could bounce on a cock for hours at a time. His knees are older and are already starting to ache. “‘Mega…”

The Ghoul presses a kiss to his cheek to show there’s no hard feelings, and lets the human sit upright. Terzo carefully eases himself off Omega and makes himself comfortable against the pillows, blow-dried bangs fanning out around his unpainted face.

Omega turns onto his stomach to cage the human in between his arms. Terzo kisses him as he lines his cock back up to his entrance, swallowing their shared moans. Omega does his best to stay attached at the lips, but he’s craving to watch Terzo’s lace-covered body writhe under him.

The lace is a more saturated pink than the stupid shirt. It complements the dusty rose of his nipples and the neat, salt-and-pepper hair that is smattered around the human’s sternum. It also fits well against the darkening red of his cock. The head strains against the thin silk waistband of the thong, the lace sticky and glistening as each thrust forces out another small spurt of pre-cum.

Omega wraps a hand around the lace covered cock and shifts the fabric over it. It moves the human’s foreskin and jolts Terzo into awareness at what he’s doing. “So much for talking about me ruining the lace…”

Terzo whines as Omega times the tight strokes with each rolling thrust. There isn’t much movement he can do with the panties, but it’s enough to send Terzo over the edge. His cock gets caught under the hem and his cum shoots from behind one of the cherry motifs, sticking the front gusset to his cock. He shivers in pleasure.

Omega doesn’t slow down. He knows his human isn’t satisfied with just one. He continues the steady pace, changing angle gradually to now rub a nodule on his cock against his prostate with every movement. Terzo shudders in overstimulation, his ass clenching against the invading cock. His nails dig into the short white hairs at the nape of Omega’s neck.

It all burns so good.

“I love…our little games,” Terzo breathes into the space between their lips. His mismatched eyes are lidded heavily, “You get so defensive…yet are always so ready to defend my honor. Fuck, right there, please…”

Omega places a flat hand on Terzo’s solar plexus and sits up straighter to thrust straight inside him.

Instantly, Terzo’s moans morph into punched-out whimpers. Omega’s fingers grasp the bralette to stretch it down to below his nipples. It acts as a leash to move Terzo in time with each roll of his hips.

“‘Mega…” Terzo whines, “Please, please…”

“Please, what? Gotta use your words, sweetheart.” The Quintessence Ghoul can feel the beginning swell of his knot. It’s starting to keep him from sliding all the way inside Terzo. He uses his momentum to pop in the swell and it makes Terzo explode with an orgasm again. This time, the cum reaches the edge of the bralette and Omega’s hand.

“O-oh, fuck!” The human cranes his neck to look down as he feels the knot forming.

Omega sweet talks him as he pushes the knot inside with each thrust until it’s formed enough that it would tear the human to push back out.

Nothing compares to this moment; Terzo’s musical whines in his ears, the mottled red blush of his chest underneath the cherries and pink lace, the gloopy pools of his cum from his two orgasms collecting in the thong and bralette waistbands.

“You want it, Terzo?” He can’t resist teasing him as he writhes. He can’t hold himself back, but it enhances the experience to hear the words from the man.

“Y-Yes! Please, ‘Mega!” The human yelps, helpless as a third orgasm overtakes him at the same time as he’s pushed full of Ghoul knot and a river of cum. A small indent forms as Omega floods him with enough release to knock up any Ghoul, female presenting or not.

It’s probably a good thing that Terzo’s the one taking knots and not Mist.

Terzo’s slumps against the fluffy pillows with a fluttering heartbeat. He lets silence fill the spaces between their panting breaths. “You ruin me for everyone else,” Terzo says quietly once they’re locked together and calmed for a moment. “At the tailor’s I agreed with you; that shirt was ugly. It didn’t match my undertone. Gold was a much better choice.”

Omega buries his head in the human’s hair so he can laugh, hiking up his hips so the angle of penetration doesn’t hurt his hips. They’ll be stuck together for a while. “You’re such an asshole.”

“And you love both my personality and asshole, il mio adorabile demone .”

[missygoesmeow]

hehe antipope go EVUL 🤭

[ficandkaboodle]

I know it’s because of the costuming. And I also know I’m not likely going to gain any friends from this. But.

I headcanon that Terzo has the flattest ass of the bunch.

*is escorted out by bodyguards who promptly place a jacket over me to poorly conceal my identity*

[osiiiris]

The thing that should not be [Terzomega One Shot]

I finally made it with a Terzo/Ghoul. What’s your opinion on POV fics? I used to write a lot of it in my past fandoms but here I see rarely this kind of fics. Thank you @van-goghs-smoking-skull for your help 🌹

Genre: slash, explicit, oral sex, sex, Terzo POV, young Terzo, sub Terzo, dom Omega, first time with Omega/a Ghoul.

Pairing: Terzo x Ghoul (Omega)

Rating: Nc17 (explicit but not properly smut)

Words: 2.943

Summary: Terzo is the 20 year old last heir of Papa Nihil and he’s definitely not having fun at his father’s birthday party. Luckily, a big Ghoul is around to save the night…

>>> Wattpad | AO3 | or down here 👇🏻

The first time we met, the big Ghoul and I, was in the hallways of the Ministry, shortly after the new summoning, but there was nothing more than a few distracted glances. I had seen him walking along with the other Ghouls, standing out for his size; their black robes covered every inch of their bodies, including their faces, making them look like nothing more than disturbing moving shadows.

The last time was a few days ago, and besides the looks, there was also the insolence of a mouth that was too big and too dirty to keep a few of their thoughts to themselves. 

It had been a coincidence that I happened to be passing by just in time to hear my name, followed by a somewhat ungentlemanly "I'm surprised none of us has fucked him yet."

The reply was even less gentle, “Just give me some time and my cock will end up deep in that throat.”

It must have been a group of Ghouls, judging by the voices, but from the cloister colonnade, I couldn't see them. A few more steps, and they were all there, gathered, chatting among themselves, some smoking with the cigarette passing under their masks. It was hard to tell who had spoken, but one of them, the tallest and most recognizable of the group, had stared at me a bit too interested while still laughing at what was said, even though it was impossible to imagine his expression under the mask.

I had noted that tone, knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.

Birthday parties are all dramatically the same and all equally boring, especially when it's your father's birthday. Or at least, I'm just in a phase of chronic dissatisfaction, as Copia would say.

Suddenly, a nearby, deep and familiar voice draws me to a small sofa that I only see from the back.

"...and so you're going on tour."

There is a girl with him, but I can't understand what they're talking about. I only catch a few phrases about music, and as I drink, I move a little closer. Just out of curiosity.

"Yes, in a few weeks." I hear him say, almost disinterested. 

"And is there a chance you'll take me in your suitcase?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd fit."

I almost want to laugh and clench the straw between my lips. I'd like to see the girl's face, but I only see her leave, probably after trying to hide her disappointment with all the self-control that a rejected woman can muster.

"You really know how to disappoint a woman." I say out of honesty, because I would have expected anything from him except for him to turn down someone like her.

He shrugs, not even surprised to see me there.

"If I listened to all those who flirt with me, I'd probably have little monsters scattered all over the world, which has probably already happened."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling my head a bit heavy for the few drinks I had. For now, it's still a nice feeling, but I've never been able to stop in time to leave it that way. Somehow, it's as if I need to create a balance just for the sake of destroying it with my own hands.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

I shrug, while I feel him watching my lips tighten around the straw.

I hear Sister Imperator calling me, and we both turn to her. "I think I have to go."

"You'll stay here, later?" That isn't really a question. It's an invitation, if not an order, and I quickly decide that I really like his orders tonight. "I'll make up for that incident in the cloister."

"See you later, then." I tell him as I boldly clench the straw of a now-empty cocktail between my teeth and move toward who I have always called mother.

After a night spent watching the others participate in the party, drinking and staring at the tips of my shoes as if in a catechism lesson, even the prospect of starting a conversation with Primo about his passion for succulents would seem interesting to me. Fortunately, my first brother doesn't have enough time to waste on me, so Copia approaches me, a cigarette between his lips and the rest of the pack still in his hand.

"Want something to drink?" he yells in my ear, as if the loud music gives him the right to think I've gone deaf.

"Do I look like someone who needs a drink?"

He nods convincingly. "Absolutely!"

"Then I'll go get it myself, at least it'll get me moving a bit. It's a real pain in the ass here."

"I haven’t seen you having fun lately!" He rolls his eyes before muttering something to himself, probably about what a creepy presence I am in his life. I hope that with alcohol around there's some action at least.

There isn't, or at least I don't get to know about it, as someone far more interesting than a drink blocks my way.

"Are you having fun?" 

The first time we saw each other, I must have had a really strange expression. It must have been at least five years ago and it was the first time I ever saw a real demon so close, but he hasn't changed at all, and I'm almost curious to know how he sees me now. Not that I expect him to understand concepts like age and physical change.

"Yes, yes."

"Shall we find a quieter spot, what do you think?"

I don't have the clarity to say no, and with a bit of luck, maybe I won't even remember it later.

I've seen him drink continuously during the party, but he seems as clear-headed as if what he's been drinking was fresh water. Either he holds his liquor well, or he knows how to mask it. Or maybe he's not a twenty-year-old jerk who collapses like an idiot after the third glass and makes a spectacle of his worst self.

I nod with a head that's a bit too heavy, then gesture for him to lead the way, only to stop him soon after.

"Wait a moment." I tell him, and I move away, looking for Copia.

When I find him, I only whisper, "Don't look for me… I'll be back in a while." making sure no one else overhears. He looks at me as if to say 'don't mess things up' - the way I have noticed everybody has started to look at me lately, as if they were ready to bet on me causing new trouble every step I take - and then reluctantly nods. I bite my lip, and the Ghoul takes his time to scrutinize me from head to toe as I approach him again.

When I don't want to feel utterly miserable, I seek refuge in Copia's reassurance. I revert to feeling at least ten years younger, shedding the darkness that has accumulated in recent years, especially when the hassle of being the last Papa's heir began to manifest. You need to start building your reputation very early, and I'm not exactly inclined to miss the fun of my youth for something that will likely happen in twenty or thirty years from now.

In all probability, later tonight or tomorrow I'll rest my head on Copia's shoulder, having him telling me that I'm a dickhead but that's ok, that the way to equanimity is a long and hard one, and I'll believe him.

The Ghoul raises a champagne bottle toward me, then hands me a glass as we sit on the secluded couches.

"To make it up to you." he explains, filling my glass like a seasoned gentleman. There's nothing to make up for, I'd tell him if I had the necessary courage, if you want, I can blow you right here.

We spend some time with a few words and many glasses that empty too easily, my stomach flaring up unsure if for the alcohol or who knows what else.

As I drink, I dare to throw a few interested glances at him, running my eyes up and down his frame, catching any relevant detail, even if it's hard to find them in a figure so covered up like his. The rings on his fingers, the shape of his shoulders, how he tilts his head when laughing… Anything can help me understand why him. And he does the same.

He talks about what he does, the music he likes to play, and worlds I've never seen.

Maybe I'll take you there. It always seems like he's about to say. Maybe we'll just stay there. Or maybe it's just me who wants to hear it from him.

I listen to him, barely hearing his deep voice, muffled by the mask he wears, and the party becomes just a confused cloud of lights and distant voices.

The mask is a testament to his past, his condition as a demon bent to the laws of a world not his own. Esoteric symbols stand out on his uniform; I focus on one of them, Omega. I decide on the spot to call him that from now on, aware that in the absence of an identity, everyone must have given him a different name.

How important it is for us humans to name everything. Perhaps that's our problem.

Omega, a guest who can't stay in his place and also the only one who manages to distract me.

We find ourselves drinking straight from the bottle, and I understand less than half of the things he tells me, but it seems to be okay with him. However, I can feel his hands lightly touching me while talking, so discreet that it surprises me. His are distracted caresses barely hinted at, words that say without saying, and I, who speak that language, immediately think of making it clear to him.

"Let's go to the bathroom?"

And I don't know if it's me or him who says it, but the fact is I get up, and he follows me.

Once inside, I let out a deep sigh that actually has nothing of the malice it seems. My ears already relax due to the newfound silence.

"I have to say you saved me from a boring night."

"You too."

I look at him through the mirror, and he does the same, at a comfortable distance from me.

"Really? Wasn't there anything more valuable than my company?"

He shrugs, then approaches, casting a glance at the door.

"It depends on how the evening might end..." he says with a very calm tone, getting closer until he's right behind me, but he doesn't touch me.

I almost want to laugh, but I let it stay just a little smile and I leave him there to enter one of the cabins and wait.

It doesn't take long before he follows me. He tries to enter, but he holds himself against the doorframe and dares to stretch only his head.

"Is there room for me too?"

I look away, tilting my head and shrugging, leaving it up to him to find out. And he does.

Perhaps my Ghoul doesn't like to give empty words, so he strokes my neck in a way I already know, and there's no need to even apply pressure for me to slowly slide down the wall to end up on my knees in front of him, putting into practice what he has fantasized about with his friends.

Too bad that this time there are no witnesses to prove how true to his word he is.

When he takes it out, I reluctantly admit that what they say about the Ghouls is indeed true. Me, a mere human, must accept and accommodate Mother Nature's wishes.

While I admire him, an involuntary "damn" escapes me, to which he responds with an avoidable "seems so.", but I decide to smile anyway. And then I begin.

I partly watch him and partly keep my eyes closed, relishing the weary satisfaction that comes from having the power to grip a man - human or not, as they apparently work the same - just by slipping into his underwear.

At some point, he stops me, and I understand that he wants to get serious; I stand up, and he immediately seizes my hips with those huge, hot hands. I've always thought of myself as not being a good catch for a woman, let alone a man, from this perspective... I have slender hands and long fingers, which I happen to know many appreciate, but they are minuscule in comparison to his; he probably doesn't even feel my touch.

From the way he's gripping me, it really seems like my entire body can fit completely between his hands.

He turns me around with expertise, and I let him.

I have too many thoughts in my head to properly think about how to move for him. Thoughts that I really shouldn't have in a situation like this, but I also know that this thing won't empty me at all; rather, it will fill my head even more than it already is.

As I gasp against the icy wall, I feel his face in my hair and his breath on my neck, escaping the mask he still has on.

"I like it like this."

Me too, sometimes.

I want to think about what a better person I could be, but instead, I let myself get screwed in a restroom by a Ghoul without saying a word, looking at the white tiles faintly mirroring my panting face while I moan and bite on the sleeve of my habit that still covers me, but not enough to grant me a decency I never really had. He has already said enough about me, and I remained silent even then. Maybe I deserved it. Sure I do.

When he thrusts, I feel it perfectly, almost too much. I feel it so much that I open my eyes wide and gasp, scratch the wall, and stiffen in a way that must amuse him. He grins in my hair and doesn't stop. Thank you.

At this point, I don't even know if this is actually his way to make amends, or if he has forgotten it along with the tenth glass he downed and changed his plans in the meantime.

In the following minutes, there are no words, and I'm grateful for that. I don't understand where one can find the strength to talk in a moment like this, when all you feel is your skin burning with flames that are only yours, and every breath seems like it's never enough.

Then it's just a warm breath on the skin, and what seems like a caress on my hips that now belong to him. At least for a while. Then I can't help but bend over in a way he doesn't seem to appreciate, or maybe he only takes it as a chance to pull my hair and tilt my head back, almost resting it on his shoulder, before pressing my chest back against the wall.

That's how I come, with one hand around my throat and the other resting on my hip, feeling my legs tremble and losing their strength as his thrusts get faster and stronger; I slide my tongue on my lip, hungrily savoring what's left of his flavor and all I can think of is how proud Asmodeus must be of me, while I ignore all the Clergy’s advice by letting those last drops of pleasure shake me and the voice dies in my throat in that last groan, while everything seems to turn white for a couple of seconds.

He holds me, saying nothing, with his huge hand holding himself on the wall, near my head, and the other firmly on my chest, pressing my back against him, and I can't say if that's a caring gesture or he just doesn't want me to fall on his feet.

I take my pack of Marlboros from my pants, which I've just put on, covered by my cassock, with hands still trembling a bit.

"Wanna smoke?" I ask, offering him one while I already have one between my lips.

"Nah." he mutters, as he gets dressed as well, as far as pulling up the zipper of his pants can mean "getting dressed."

I lean against the wall while he takes his time to straighten every fold in his Ghoul uniform, and I have strange thoughts.

"I was thinking about where we shouldn't be."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, not at all impressed.

"What we shouldn't have done..."

Encounters between humans and hellish creatures are not forbidden, but highly discouraged. Nobody can say what the true intentions of an entity born and raised in Hell may be, and it's always dangerous to form that kind of bond with subordinates, especially ones who don't feel feelings in the same way as humans. It is something to play with carefully.

"I only think about what we shouldn't be and we'll never be, so don't get ahead of yourself."

I shrug, also unimpressed. The cigarette is still unlit, and I don't think I'll smoke it.

"So disappointing is really your specialty." I joke, approaching him in this bathroom that now seems too big. I offer it to him, and he looks at it a bit strangely. "But keep this one." I tell him, and I like to think he's smiling under the mask. The fact is that he accepts it.

You keep it, so next time, I'll come back to get it. 

And we'll smoke it together.

[smoothjazbay]

pinterest gets me

my favorite italian people <3

[gentleveenus]

♢✟ the face is not the important part of this drawing✟♢

◕‿ ◕ hehe

[i-fondued]

OK OK OK Veritas au possibility: HATEFUCKING! Maybe sister gets so fed up with him she’s just like fuck it, “let’s put that mouth of yours to work doing something useful for once, hmm?” And instead of being mad, Copia and terzo watch on in amazement (and horniness) while sister rides Veritas’ face into oblivion 😈 (he’s into, obviously; he strikes me as the type to secretly LOVE to be manhandled and used by an angry woman)

dskjffskdjfnjs anon you know this is now going in the AU idea note in my phone right?? Cause I had only thought of Vertias being… ahem…violent in bed so to speak but the idea of a powerful woman completely demolishing him is just-

[zekeodile]

- Nighttime confessionals || Terzo x AMAB!Reader -

@cowgremlin

----------------------------------------------------

Word count: 2,796

Character Count: 15,257 ----------------------------------------------------

You are my moon, mi amore.

You had never been close to the elusive man. Every past attempt to get more than a passing conversation had not gone as planned, and you had all but given up hope. Terzo, or otherwise affectionately known as Papa III, had always interested you in more ways than one. He was humorous on stage, as you had seen in some of his recent performances, and he always made you chuckle. Not to mention he was good-looking. Alas, you were never able to get more than a few words in to him.

But now, as he stood there in the doorway of your quarters, disheveled from restless sleep and a certain look in his eye, you begin to think you may have a chance to get very up close and personal tonight.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was well into the night when you heard the knock on your door. Dragged from your dream, which you already couldn't remember, you let out a noise to alert the person on the other side that you were coming. A strangled groan escapes your throat as you stretch out your sleep-stiff body, shuffling to the door as you lazily pull on a robe. You never wore much, for the old satanic church was kept hot for some odd reason, so the robe was the modest choice while still saving yourself from the warmth.

You were more than surprised to find Terzo at the door, his hair a mess and his eyes dark with some myriad of different thoughts or feelings. "Ah- Papa, what wakes you at such an hour?" You ask, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "It's- lord below, what time is it?" You paw for your phone, which of course wasn't on you.

"It's almost one in the morning, prestante, I checked." His voice brings you back to attention. You never did understand everything he said, especially when he spoke in his mother tongue. Even if it was just little phrases or words, you could never figure out the meaning, though it always made you blush. Of course, he said these things to everyone, but it just sparked little butterflies inside you every time it was directed specifically to you. "May I come in, fratello?" Okay, that meant brother, you knew that one. All followers were called brother, sister, sibling, and so on so forth. You must have gotten lost in thought, since Terzo waved his hand in front of your face to bring you back once again.

You feel your ears grow hot with embarrassment as you nod, stepping aside to let the man in. This is one of the only times you have seen him without his paint, and you had to say, it was almost exactly what you imagined. Dear Satan, if only you could see this when you were more awake.

As the door shuts, you turn to face him. "So, what can I do for you, Papa? You never did answer my first question as to why you were awake." You're shocked to see that when you finally focus on the man, he is already removing his undershirt, which usually went under his uniform, but he had decided to sleep in.

"There is quite a lot you can do for me, fratello. I've noticed how I catch your eye, how your gaze lingers," his voice was a mere coo, soft and silky as he glanced over his shoulder in your direction. "I've had enough of playing coy. You should know that I find you quite the looker. I want you." He stated simply, the three ending words sticking in your mind and making your heart thump in your chest.

"At this hour? Papa- I'm awfully flattered." It was all you could muster. Your desire for Terzo was resurging, you could feel it deep in the pit of your stomach, rising into a hot need. "I just-" You were cut short as a warm finger pressed over your lips. Soon, his thumb dragged over your lower lip as his pointer held your chin.

"Hush now. We have time to talk later, caro." He gave you a devilish grin that sent a shiver straight to your groin. You heard yourself utter a 'yes Papa' before you hungrily captured his lips in a heated kiss. The raven-haired man let out a groan, his grip on your chin loosening for a moment as he tried to regain control of things. Something about Papa you had noticed was that he exuded dominating energy. Hell, it practically oozed off of him while he was on stage. But now? Now he was at your submission, giving up hope of domination and just sinking into the heat of the kiss. The air around you was filled with soft groans and sighs as you snaked your hands around the man, coming to rest one against the small of Terzo's back as the other found its home on his sharp hip.

It didn't take long before you both found yourself in bed, a tangle of legs and sheets as Terzo squirmed under you, his voice reduced to almost desperate mewls as you ground against him. Your mouth sloppily trailed kisses all along his neck, down to his collar, and to his chest, which was peppered with thin black hair. You had just found a rhythm when you released a startled groan from your throat. Terzo had slid his hand down your front to your crotch, where his palm ground itself into your hardened arousal. "Satanas- fuck, Papa.." You stuttered out, your eyes shut tight as you eagerly pressed your hips forward. "Very good, caro.." He praised beneath you, his voice sending a feeling of calm through your body, but with that came a sudden primal urge to just devour the man as he grinned under your body.

"Undress for me." You practically demanded this, which made the pale man's eyes widen slightly. He chuckled out, staring up at you with such a lustful gaze that it could make anyone melt.

"You wish is my command, fratello." Papa cooed, unzipping his pants with deliberate slowness as to mentally and almost physically torture you. Thinking about it, him sleeping in his dress pants was odd. Then again, he seemed as though he had planned this all out. He wanted to fuck with your mind, make you hunger for his body. Terzo's plan was definitely working, because you were starving, craving him.

The light that seeped in through the curtains illuminated Papa's body, showing off every subtle curve and dip in the skin. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. "You are my moon, mi amore." He murmured after a moment, watching your gaze with gentle eyes.

"Then you are my stars." You return, removing the man's pants after he had gotten distracted. You give a tug to his boxers, allowing the man's erection to be freed from its constraints. A groan escapes Terzo's lips, his eyes fluttering slightly as he lifted his hips to aid you in undressing him. "I've always imagined you like this... Now that I have you, it's surreal." You sigh out, your eyes raking over his moonlit body.

"You've fantasized about me, si?" A chuckle forms deep in his chest. "My my, you are a dirty boy." His hand begins to roam, stroking himself at the base of his arousal. "I can't say I haven't thought about you, either. Your beautiful body always hides under those clothes of yours. I can't help but be curious..." Terzo tilted his head, his eyes half-lidded and his gaze sweet as you palm yourself over your undergarments. "Expose yourself to me, fratello, show your need to your Papa." You didn't even hesitate anymore. You removed yourself from your boxers, watching Terzo's eyes light up with surprise and sudden, hot desperation. "My lord, caro, would you look at what you've been hiding from your Papa." He cooed, his voice adopting a slight quiver as you thumb close to your head, the tip glistening with forming precum.

You feel a grin pull at your lips as you lean to grab lubricant from your bedside table. "Well, you've been hiding your entire being from me... I'd say we're even now, Papa." You tease, pouring some of the slick liquid onto your fingers. "Now, tell me just how you like it." You smile as you circle a slicked-up digit at Terzo's tight entrance. A shivering moan leaves the man, and you feel him press down against you.

"Just- get to it already... I need to feel those skillful fingers..." He pleaded. In the past, when you had done more work with your hands that involved several things like papers or sorting, you had noticed how Papa would observe you. Indeed, you did have a way with your hands, but didn't believe he had noticed.

You slip your finger inside the man as he let out a sweet sigh. "Demanding much?" You tease yet again, your cock twitching at the sound of the man's voice. It doesn't take long for Terzo to silently beg for your second digit, his eyes wide as shockwaves of pleasure ripple up his spine. You listen to his pleading eyes as you almost force the second finger inside, eliciting a gasp and whimper from Terzo. "There... Happy?" You coo. "You're being a good boy for me, Papa."

"Call me Terzo, please- enough with formalities..."

"If I'm going to call you Terzo, then you better sing my praises, beautiful." You grin, stroking up your length as you search for the man's spot. During your search, you make sure to stretch him out in preparation for your cock. Hearing his desperate moans fueled your urges, his back arching and his thighs trying to shut around his erection to get any type of friction that wasn't from his hands.

"I will- oh caro- dear Satan-" Another moan cut him off, his hips bucking up as your fingers finally met his spot. He could feel himself already coming undone, the heat in his stomach pooling til he felt he was going to burst. "Mhh... Please, more, I beg of you. I've always dreamed of this," he confessed, "I've spent so many nights touching myself over you, your very image ruins me."

Hearing this made your fingers speed up, rubbing relentlessly against the bundle of nerves in his walls as Terzo let out a string of desperate, high-pitched moans. "Then why did you ignore me all this time, Terzo? Your beauty is enchanting, it was so hard to stay away."

Terzo seemed to debate a response in his head, his thoughts cut off by your skillful and long fingers. "I- fuck- I was afraid to get close, in fear of never being able to let go."

Oh, it was on now.

The air was hot and heavy as it surrounded you both, almost suffocatingly so. You swiftly removed your fingers, pulling a whine from the writhing man below you. "Nows the time for all the closeness in the world, I'm not going to lose you now..." In a hushed tone, you caress Terzo's cheek with a gentle touch. Watching how he leaned into you, his eyes catching yours and delivering a lustful gaze, you know the time has finally come to make this man yours.

"I will treat you well, I promise." You assure him, taking the time to spread lubricant along your length and ensure you're thoroughly coated in the slick substance before dragging Papa close. The raven-haired man watched with an anxious stare, itching to just feel you already. As the head of your cock pressed to his entrance, a shivering moan was drawn from Terzo's lips. He suddenly tugged you close with a leg, wrapping it tight around your waist to bring you in to the hilt. A moan escapes you both, his a slightly higher octave than your own. Terzo leans his head back to stare up at the ceiling, clutching your hair in his hands as he feels just how well you fill him. Every inch of his inside is absolutely stuffed, and it's obvious just how much he loves it from the look on his face.

You felt the man adjust around you as you slowly started your even tempo. Starting off slow gave Terzo the chance to relax and ease into the feeling. Watching his face twist and contort at the waves of pleasure put a smile on your face, your gaze soft as you once again began your search for his spot. Terzo's sweet moans grew louder in your ear, filling the silence that encased the rest of the room. You take the chance to bite gently on his neck, like an animal taking hold of its prey to claim for itself. This action drew yet another moan from the man below you, the tone alone urging you on.

As you suddenly bucked your hips into his spot, you drive on at a harder pace, sending shockwaves through Terzo's already quivering body. "Oh, caro- you fuck like you've had practice..." Papa groaned, his warm hand wrapping around his member as his back formed a nice arch.

"Maybe I have, but no one I could bed compares to you, Terz'..."

"They better not- I want to be the only one from now on..." He trailed off for a moment before looking into your eyes, a hint of anxiety hidden behind their mesmerizing complexity. "Please, fratello. Grant me that wish... It is all I desire."

Your hardened expression softened at his words, his pleas. After a slow inhale, you lean down to give him a gentle kiss, catching his lips and locking together with him. "I promise you, you'll be my one and only from this night onward..." That seemed to make him happy, a smile tugging at his lips. "Now let me make love to you, my star..." You cooed, rubbing his jaw as your other hand gave his hip a light squeeze

"Please do..." Was all Terzo could muster, his mouth hanging open as you rubbed against the tight bundle of nerves once again. The speed of your hips slowed once again, but you stuck to the rougher thrusts. A low groan bursts past your lips as Terzo's walls tightened around you, practically begging for your seed. With every thrust, Papa could feel his climax slowly rising, the muscles in his stomach taught and rippling as his body jolted with each passing wall of delight. Lord, if there was a heaven, it had to be this, bathing in what little moon was peeking through the window while the two of you showed some of the purest forms of love possible in the given situation.

"Keep it up, caro... I'm so close already..." Terzo panted out, his voice soft and dripping with sweetness. "I never want this to end..."

"It's okay... Cum for me, beautiful, let your being come unraveled under me." You whisper against his skin as you press loving kisses to Papa's chest. Dragging your warm tongue across his skin, you taste the salt of his sweat, sharp against your taste buds. It was delicious, you could practically eat the man whole. You bit down on his chest, pulling a keen from his throat as he stroked himself to completion. Warm strings of cum shot onto his stomach, dripping from the head of his cock as he let out overstimulated whimpers.

His noises drove you mad. You gently pulled him closer, catching him in another kiss as you pushed in as deep as possible, burying yourself inside the man's heat as you released. A groan finds its way into the kiss, muffled by your joined mouths.

As Terzo pulled away, a blissful smile took place of his orgasmic expression. "I've never felt anything better, caro... You do more than please me. I would give anything to be eternally yours."

"Then stay a while, be with me tonight... Having you here is something I've craved for a long time..." You too made your confession, having it be one of the many made during your time with the man.

"I believe that can be arranged." He whispered, relaxing for you to pull out.

After a short time spent on clean up, the two of you clambered back into bed and fell against each other, dragging the other into a bundle of warmth and security. The smell of sex was strong, but a welcomed scent. It was intoxicating, filling your nose as you nuzzled it against Terzo's hair.

"Terzo?" You ask after silence had just taken hold of the air.

"Yes, caro?"

A pause, almost searching for the words.

"I love you."

Not skipping a beat, Terzo plants a kiss on your collarbone. "I love you too, mi amore."

[crowleycringe]

Little cut outs I made

[ghuleh-draws]

did someone say soft, domestic terzo?

commission for the extraordinarily talented and wonderful @angellayercake inspired by Banchetto—one of my all-time favorites.

corresponding excerpt under the cut.

‘Careful Papa! They are still hot from the oven,’ you chided him but he turned to you with a grin on his face. Even covered in crumbs he was handsome enough to take your breath away.

‘But Sorella, this is the best time to have them, si?’ After popping the final piece in his mouth he starts cleaning his fingers, sucking one at a time into his mouth, moaning obscenely as he picked up the last traces of flavour. You are transfixed by his display so you barely notice when his eyes flick open and catch you watching. He draws the last finger out of his mouth so slowly, catching on his bottom lip and you have to swallow as you suppress the thought of his finger in your own mouth. You meet his eyes and feel the blush blooming on your face.

He saunters closer to you never taking his eyes from yours and you can’t breathe in anticipation of what he is going to do. He stops just in front of you and you feel yourself leaning ever so slightly forward as if he had his own gravitational pull. Then in the blink of an eye he has snatched another three and is halfway across the room.

‘That will be all today Sorella, grazie.’ And then he is gone but you can hear him whistling on his way. You collect yourself as quickly as you can, not wanting to dawdle when you had been so clearly dismissed.

Read the rest on AO3 here!

[namelessdumbass]

Terzo's chasuble details

designed by Bea Åkerlund and Michel Berandi

Unfortunately there are no proper HQ pictures to see all of the details. Plus the shitty light of the venues Ghost performed at played huge role. There are also not so many pictures of Terzo's back in Papal vestments :/

Here's what i could find:

Spiders. Are visible on the front and backside of the chasuble.

The claw. Is in front on Papa's top right (our left) and also on the bottom of the chasuble but the picture of it is so shitty it's really not worth including. I'm 99,9% sure there are also some of them on his back too.

Crucifix. Is visible on Papa's top left.

Snake. Is on Papa's right.

Skulls. The are many of them. There's at least one demonic and lots of human skulls. Some examples can also be seen above.

Chains

A boot? Or a leg🙃 Honestly i have no idea what this is. It's on the bottom of chasuble on Papa's left.

A coffin(?)

Terzo's side/back pictures

[X] [x]

Feel free to add the details i've missed💜🖤

P. S. Please, for the love of satan, if y'all are going to use the pictures i spent hours to find and zoomed in like crazy for details, at least credit me!

[gravehags]

the one who comes (richly endowed)

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

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: rough sex, cum eating, copia in that goddamn white suit, oral (m receiving, through pants), semi public sex, ghoul voyeurism, masturbation, curator reader being evil

Words: 3,459

Summary: A series of sartorial events.

a/n: i am quite literally always saying how i'm going to suck copia off through those white lululemon leggings so you know. here you go.

~~~

“The eh, Ministry tailor wants to go over some of the tour outfits tomorrow afternoon. Care to join me?”

You yawn wide enough to pop your jaw and snuggle into the side of your lover, fingers raking through his abundant chest hair. He’s got a book propped up on his belly and his reading glasses perched on his long nose as he pauses every few moments to notate something in the margins or underline. 

“Yes please,” you say, leaning forward to place a kiss to each of the entwined 6s tattooed on his freckled pectoral. The action makes him chuckle, eyes briefly leaving the page to flick to you.

“You promise not to get too jealous?” he asks innocently, turning the page, “I mean these are the outfits my adoring fans will be seeing me perform in while you’re stuck here at the abbey. Who knows what kind of mischief I could get up to?”

You snort and sharply pinch his nipple, causing him to let out a ridiculously rat-like squeak.

“You’re not the only one who could get up to mischief,” you coo, “When the Cardinal’s away, the curator will play, hmm? I bet Terzo isn’t busy these days…”

Copia lets out a growl and removes his glasses, tossing them carelessly on the nightstand along with his book.

“What did you say?”

You’re trying so hard to bite back the evil grin that threatens to spread across your face as you lean away from your lover to flop onto your back and stare at the bed canopy above you.

“I think it’s only fair that I be allowed to seek out some ah…diversion in your absence. Particularly when you’re going to have your ‘adoring fans’ crawling all over you. Tell me, which of the Papas is best at eating pus–”

You don’t get to finish the sentence because Copia has rolled on top of you and situated himself between your legs.

“Dolcezza,” he leans in to growl in your ear, making a delightful shiver run up your spine, “Do not toy with me. Do not make me keep you tied to my tour bus bed with your face in the pillow and your ass in the air to use as I please every night, eh?”

You giggle warmly.

“I don’t know, sounds kind of ideal to me,” you purr, “To be so deliciously, divinely stuffed with your cum over and over after every show. What is it the siblings call me? ‘The Cardinal’s mistress’? And what is it the ghouls call me? Ah yes, ‘the Cardinal’s mate.’ Would you mate with me in that tour bus, amore? Loud and feral, for all your ghouls to hear? I think they’d like to wat–ah!”

Flinging back the covers and sitting on his haunches, he grabs you and roughly flips you over. 

“Piccola provocazione mia,” he sighs, rucking your nightgown over your hips and bending your knees, “If you wanted my cock so badly tonight–” he says, and you hear him yank down his sleep pants behind you, “--all you had to do was ask.”

You giggle into the pillow as he drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Much more fun this–ah!--way! Fuck, Copia!”

He’s bottomed out inside you before you can even finish your sentence and places a firm hand between your shoulder blades as he begins to roughly fuck you. You turn your head to the side to get some air and so he can hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“You–ah–want it like this? Bent over and spread open for anyone to watch? To listen? Tesoro, we should recruit you for–hngh–sex rituals. Who knew a sweet girl like you liked–ah–an audience?”

The snap of his hips against yours is ruthless and the sound of his balls slapping against you with each thrust drives another moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, Copia, right there! Feel so good baby, l-love it when you u-use me, ah!”

His hand on your back presses you further into the mattress, causing you to arch your back even more sharply. The new angle has starbursts exploding across your vision.

“Sei mio,” he grunts, his grip on your hip bruising, “And until the m-moment I leave for t-tour I’ll–ah–gladly remind you, s-si?”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you chant, pushing back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, “Mmm fuck, Copia, make me yours!”

His fingers abandon your hip to reach around and slide through your folds, moaning at how wet you are. When he brushes against your clit, you let out a sharp whine.

“Copia, please! Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh fuck!”

Your cunt spasms around him and you cry out as he brings you over the edge, his name on your lips. 

“Ragazza brava mia,” he moans, “My perfect girl, so good for me. Cazzo, I’m gonna cum, amore. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he pulls out of you, you whine at the loss but crane your head as far back as you can to watch him feverishly stroke his cock.

“Come on baby,” you pant even though your neck is killing you. “Cum on me. Mark me up.”

The sight of his fist rocketing along his reddened cock, slick with your juices has you grinding into the mattress, desperate for another release. When he cums with a shout, covering your lower back in spurts of his seed your body sags into the bed. You can hear his rapid breaths as he wrings out every last drop onto you and finally lets go to survey his handiwork. He drags his forefinger through the mess and you turn your head, opening your mouth obediently. When the warm digit meets your tongue, the salt of him on your tastebuds, you close your mouth around it and suck eagerly.

“What a deviant I have made of a sweet little virgin,” he marvels and you slide off his finger to swallow with a smile.

“Think I was a deviant even when I was a virgin,” you murmur, “You just encouraged it. But some of the fantasies I had…”

“Oh?”

“Get me a rag to clean this up then I’ll tell you all about them, my love.”

He does as he’s told, wiping up his seed and rejoining you in bed so you can assume your earlier positions. You make a bet with yourself about how many times the two of you are going to hunger for one another that night.

As always, both of you exceed your expectations.

–

“What do you think about this? Amore?”

“Hmm?” you look up from the binderful of sketches you’ve been browsing while your beloved and the tailor conversed in rapid Italian, “Think about what?”

Copia stands on a round platform surrounded by mirrors. The tailor leans up against the door and gestures to the Cardinal.

“It’s a good suit, no?”

You smile. Of course it’s a good suit. It’s the suit Copia was wearing the night of your first date. The night where the two of you grinded on each other and made an absolute mess of those trousers. Those lovely, snug trousers and the curve of–

“Amore?” Copia asks, and you see his mustache twitch in amusement.

“It’s great! I love it, did you um…change the material of the pants? From the original suit I mean.”

“Si, si,” the tailor nods, “the Cardinal requires pants with more stretch to allow for vigorous movement on stage.”

Mmm vigorous movement.

“So he’ll be wearing either of his cassocks and uh…this black suit?”

Once again the tailor nods.

“I also have made prototypes in two other colors. Would you like to see those?”

He’s asking Copia too but you interject to answer for him.

“Yes, please.”

“They’re in garment bags in the dressing room, Cardinal.”

The Cardinal gives the tailor a tight smile before turning to you and giving you a look. You smile and shrug. Better him than you, and the way he fucked you last night, you almost collapsed on the floor this morning when you got out of bed while he chuckled, the bastard. He deserves a little torture. A few more minutes pass and he comes out and does a little pose. He looks resplendent in a cardinal red version of the suit and you know you’re grinning like an idiot when he steps onto the platform, preening.

“Oh the red is good, signore,” you tell the tailor, who smiles pleasantly at you. “I think I like it even better than the black. What do you think, my love?”

Copia’s preoccupied with making stupid little muscle man poses in the mirror and you have to stuff your fist in your mouth to muffle your guffaw.

“Huh-wha…what was that, amore?”

“I said, how do you feel about the red?”

“Oh eh, si. Very nice. Vibrant. Is that all?”

“There is one more suit in the dressing room, Cardinale,” the tailor gently reminds him and Copia turns to give you a deep bow before retreating to his cubicle. You hear him disrobe and hang up the red suit followed by unzipping the last garment bag. There’s a shuffle of fabric and Copia makes an odd sound.

“I…I, eh don’t think I’ll come out for this one.”

You look to the tailor nonplussed, who looks to you, equally perplexed.

“Isn’t it just the same suit in a different color, hon?”

“Si, it’s just that it’s eh…” he makes one of his noises, “It’s…ah fuck it.”

When he opens the door and peeks his head out you smile encouragingly. That smile slowly drops as he slides out of the dressing room to stand on the platform, replaced with something more awestruck and hungry. True to the tailor’s word, it is the same suit, however this one is in snow white. He looks incredibly elegant but that’s not what occupies your mind - what occupies your mind is the hefty and defined curve of his cock and balls in those sinfully tight white pants.

“Well, what do you think?”

You let out a lewd gurgle and now it’s the tailor’s turn to muffle his laughter.

“Exactly. I don’t think I’ll be going with this one, signore.”

The string of filth going through your mind is interrupted by his words.

“What?! No!” you splutter, flapping your hands. “No, this one absolutely stays.” 

“Amore,” Copia stage whispers, “You can see my whole dick.”

“Yeah, and balls,” you loudly whisper back, “Which is exactly why you’re keeping it.”

“Sarto, will you eh, excuse me and the signorina for a moment per favore?”

The tailor silently nods with an amused expression and steps out of the room, snapping the door shut behind him.

“Dolcezza, I am supposed to be on stage in this outfit. I’m supposed to sing while wearing this. You want me to look like a…a Chippendale at these rituals?”

You cough to hide your laughter.

“Beloved, may I be frank with you?”

“Please.”

“People come to these rituals to be tempted, right? To dip their toe into what the Ministry has to offer? Copia I am being so honest with you right now when I say that this–” you gesture to what’s on display at the juncture of his thighs, “--in combination with the music? Baby, you’ll be beating new recruits off with a stick. Might as well have a sign-up booth outside the venue. If I were some wide-eyed, easily influenced young person and I walked into one of your rituals to hear you sing about being the one who comes richly endowed and coming into the daughters of men and whatnot? My love, I would swear myself to Satan for one corn chip if you asked.”

Copia nods slowly, considering.

“You…have a point, dolcezza. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t met you until I became head of the Ghost project so I could see you front row at a ritual…oh the things I would do to you.”

“And you still can,” you murmur, setting the sketch binder aside, “Keep this outfit and I promise you I’ll visit you backstage at one of your shows. I’ll surprise you.”

“Done,” he says, slapping his thigh. A soft knock sounds through the room and the tailor opens the door.

“Everything good?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Molto bene, signore,” you say, “He’s keeping the outfit.”

“Ah, good, good,” the tailor smiles, clapping his hands together, “I was hoping you’d say that because I have a couple accessories for this one.”

You look to Copia, intrigued. The tailor produces a hat box and removes the lid, handing Copia a very dashing black fedora with a white band. The Cardinal places it on his head, looking devastatingly handsome as he poses in the many mirrors. The tailor disappears for a moment and then reappears to hand Copia a black cane with a silver snake handle.

“What do you think, signorina?” the tailor asks, hands behind his back. Copia turns to you and with an evil grin, slides the length of the cane along his cock then rocks his hips against it. Your jaw loosens and your eyes glaze over.

“Amore, the tailor asked you a question?”

“Hard. I mean good! Good! It’s all very good, thank you for indulging me, signore. Beautiful work but I expected nothing less from the man that makes his cassocks. You know, the way the fascia cinches him in and the fabric falls over his as–assets. Uh…”

The tailor coughs, hiding a smile with his fist.

“Grazie, signorina. And grazie, Cardinale. I’ll work on making duplicates of these designs at once.”

Copia nods and steps off the platform to return to the dressing room. A beat passes when you get up and scuttle over to the tailor.

“Is there any way you can make the pants um. Tighter?”

“I heard that.”

—

His veins are on fire, thrumming as he makes his walk off the stage post-encore. The crowd loves him. They love him. The little rat bastard Cardinal makes the beautiful young creatures of the crowd scream and profess their adoration. He’s feeling elated, high as he passes by two roadies and works his way backstage when he hears a low whistle come from a corner near some tour crates. When he looks he double takes because surely he must be dreaming. Surely his eyes must be playing tricks on him as he sees his amore slowly emerge from behind a box wearing that little half-smile you sport when getting up to mischief. Before he even realizes he’s doing it he’s running over to you - damn his sore muscles in need of a long shower - and into your open arms.

“Surprised?” you ask as you throw your arms around his neck. 

Immediately he buries his nose into your loose hair and a shudder rips through him as he’s enveloped in your scent. His hands roam your back, sliding down further to cup your ass and pull you into him.

“Mmm insatiable as always,” you mutter into his shoulder, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. The adrenaline of the evening matched with the way you’re gazing at him makes his cock stir. Your lips twitch upwards and eyebrow arches.

“Amore,” he growls, grinding against your belly, “Come to my dressing room so we can–”

“What’s wrong with right here?” you ask innocently, gesturing to the empty nook stacked with gear boxes. “I came such a long way for you, I simply can’t waste another moment.”

When you begin to lower yourself to your knees, his head tips back in a groan. Cazzo, he missed this. When he reopens his eyes he spots something in the darkness further behind you - a slender form in black and a flash of a silver mask.

Dewdrop.

He should tell you, should grab you by the shoulders and scurry away with you somewhere more private but he thinks about that day months ago when you said you wanted to be watched. Copia’s head jerks in a nod in the ghoul’s direction and he sees his mouth fall open in a pant. You’re massaging the meat of his thighs in your perfect little hands when he looks down at you.

“You’re distracted,” you murmur, blinking up at him, “Guess you haven’t missed me much after all.”

“Dolcezza, no!” Copia breathes, gloved hand stroking your hair, “Come up here and I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”

“No, no,” you say airily, and for a horrible moment he thinks he’s seriously hurt your feelings but then you look up and give him a sinister little grin that makes him throb.

“Did they like it?” you ask, trailing your fingertips over his clothed cock.

“L-Like it?”

“The white suit,” you say patiently, dragging your fingernails down his thigh. “How did they look up at you tonight, my love? Were they hungry for you?” 

You lean in to place a chaste kiss to his bulge that almost makes his knees give out.

“Will they go home tonight and fuck themselves to the thought of you?”

When you drag the flat of your tongue across his balls and up his cock he whimpers pathetically.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hmmm,” you ponder, thumb rubbing the head of him through his pants. There’s a sizable wet stain on them now from where he’s been leaking pre, “I was out there, you know. Watching. Saw the way you thrusted and fell to your knees and grinded on that cane. Saw the way they all panted for you. And you know what I was thinking the whole time, my love?”

He’s breathing heavy through his nose.

“No, a-amore.”

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to do this.”

You lean in and wetly latch onto his balls through the thin fabric and his hand flies to the back of your head. You’re giggling around him and the vibrations make him whimper.

“Fuck, amata mia, yes,” he groans, rocking his hips into your touch. Slowly you drag your tongue along his shaft and even through the material he knows you’re tracing the thick vein. When Copia tilts his head back in a moan, his half-lidded eyes fall on the ghoul in the shadows. Dew is still mostly obscured but even the darkness can’t hide the way his strong hand is sliding along the ridges of his hardened cock. His head is tilted downwards towards you - drinking in the way you look with your thighs splayed in that pretty sundress, your mouth suckling on the head of his Cardinal’s cock. Copia knows he won’t last much longer - not with how worked up he already was from the ritual and with their audience - and he looks down at you adoringly.

“Close, tesoro. Gonna–ah–gonna make me cum in my pants?”

Your lips pull off him for only a moment to give him a wide smile.

“Just like New Year’s Eve. Remember?” You place a hand on his bulge and begin stroking it. “The champagne burning in our veins? The way the curve of your cock felt nudging my clit through those red lace panties you like? How your fingers gripped me hard enough to bruise?”

“Si, si, I remember, I remember, amore,”

“You told me to make a mess of myself. I should have put those panties in your pocket but we already know how you like to steal them yourself, hmm?”

Copia makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a whine as his cheeks are flooded with red and his hips buck into your touch.

“Dirty old man,” you say with a grin, “Can’t help yourself can you, Cardinal? On stage, in my bed, right now under my hand and mouth–”

He feels the pressure building in his spine as you rub him frantically through his pants.

“--while your ghoul watches us.”

The moan that comes out of him is loud and long, hips rutting against your hand as he cums in ropes and soaks the white fabric. You’re cooing praise at him from your spot on the floor as he takes shuddering breaths. When he looks up, Dewdrop is gone but there’s no mistaking what’s spattered on the floor where he stood. Did you plan this? How could he have known? How could you have known? How–

“Hey,” you say, placing a little kiss to the wet stain on his crotch, “Help me up?”

With a start he bends over and lifts you gently by the elbows until you’re standing and stretching. Overcome with adoration, he grabs you by the back of the head and slots his lips against yours. His ragazza bella. His mistress. His perfect mate.

“So,” you say once you finally manage to pull away from him, “Show me that dressing room?”