#Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demonicdames · 1 year

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A little writing project of mine that I have on A03 that I'm going to throw here to. Rated: E F/M Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader Cardinal Copia x F!Reader (Later chaps) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 "Now is that clear?." Sister Imperator asked as she picked up the stack of papers tapping them on the table before handing them off to Nihil, you nodded hands folded in front of yourself, you weren't new to the ministry you had been there for a few years now and you knew most of the senior members.

"Very good, now go to Secondo and see if you can help him get things in order."

"Yes, Sister." You replied with a nod before leaving the room and heading down to the North wing where the second oldest Emeritus son worked, Primo was East, Terzo was West and Nihil at the moment watched over the South wing. You smiled as you watched several youths walk down the hall surrounding Primo all talking and asking questions, you liked Primo he was such a father figure to the little ones some orphaned and others left on the doorstep of the ministry you waved to him as you passed the old male giving you a smile and wave back along with an 'evening sister' to which several little voices copied him greeting you a good evening. "Little imps." You chuckled stopping at Secondos office door and giving it a knock. "Come in." With that you opened the door the office was dark aside from a few candles that were lit giving the room a dim glow. Sister Imperator wasn't lying when she said there was a lot of work that had gotten backed up. "What do you need Sister?." He asked without looking up, dipping his pen into the ink before continuing his writing. "Sister Imperator sent me here to assist you." You watched as Secondo stopped his writing the pen being placed back into the small jar of ink, fingers folding as he looked you from foot to head. "An assistant eh?, tell her that I do not need another disappointment around me, good evening Sister." His voice was stern. "But Secon-." "Sir." He corrected

"Ah, Sir you don't know how competent I am until you allow me to demonstrate?." Secondo leaned back in his chair thinking about your words. "Fine, you see that stack of folders? organize them." Secondo motioned towards the work before returning to his own, you were relieved that he gave you the chance to prove to him you were capable.

It took you a half hour tops to get everything sorted and done, the folder being placed on Secondo's desk his mismatched eyes looking up at you a single brow arched the folder being taken and looked at his expression unchanging. "Well, I stand corrected." The Emeritus spoke as the folder was placed down, you watched as he stood up walking around the desk towards you, you backed up until your back hit the door you felt small under his gaze. "Perhaps I will keep you around cara mia."

That was three years ago.

The desk whined and creaked below you your hands grabbing onto the edges your head was thrown back as your boss buried his cock deep inside of you. The Emeritus hunched over you as he drew closer and closer to his end when he finally hit it hot streams of cum filled the condom he wore with each throb of his cock. Secondos hand moved down between you two his thumb rolling your clit. "Cum for me cara mia." He panted as he rode out his orgasm slowly adding to your pleasure until you met your end shaking under him calling out his name.

A few minutes passed before he pulled out of you the condom was pulled off and tossed into the trash with a grumble, he hated them but thankfully the ultra-thins felt okay enough, you hated them too but it was either that or risk getting pregnant. Finally, after a few minutes, you sat up shakily meeting Secondo with a kiss and another as he stuffed his now soft cock back into his pants. "Thank you for your assistance cara."

"Always at your service Sir." You replied sliding from his desk and grabbing your panties from the floor, this wasn't your first time doing this, there had been countless times that Secondo had you laid out over his desk be it for an evening meal or to deal with a boner.

"Sorella?." Secondo asked from his desk as he wrote on several pages. "Yes Sir?." "How would you feel about coming to my room for a drink or two?." "I'd like that very much." You replied with a smile, you enjoyed spending time with Secondo he always made you feel- wanted the way he would stare at you and undress you with his eyes you always felt your face getting warm when he did.

When the end of the day came you walked with Secondo down the North hall some paperwork in your arms both chatting about the day and greeting siblings as you walked. Getting to his room Secondo locked the door once you both had entered. "Excuse me for a moment cara." He spoke heading out of the room to remove his robe and put it up leaving him in a black suit returning he poured you both two cups of wine. "Come cara sit sit sit." He nodded to the couch to which he took a seat himself settling beside you and offering you the wine.

"Thank you, Sir-." "Secondo, you know when we are in private you can use it." "Secondo." You spoke getting a grin from him as he sipped his wine. "Today was a good day, sì?." "Today was indeed a good day, though not much work got done." You tried to hide that smile of yours behind the glass of wine. "Yes, we had to have several little- meetings."

You giggled at that watching as he finished the wine in one good gulp. "Speaking of, I'd like to have another after-work meeting." To that, you smiled a brow arching in interest.

The next thing you knew his lips were on yours kissing he had eased you back onto his couch, hovering above you your arms wrapped around him your body arching up against his as you stretched out, Secondo moved one of your legs up over his hip you could feel the bulge in his pants grind down against your clothed pussy making you pull back from the kiss gasping his name, a second one following as he ground down against you harder dry fucking you into the couch cushions your arms wrapped tightly around him.

"S-Secondooo." You panted as he continued your clit thick and throbbing beneath your panties which were getting moister by the moment your hand moved from around him to grip the couch. You were on the edge almost there when he pulled away from you, you gave a loud groan of disapproval when he did so which was shushed with a kiss to your lips then to your neck and lower kissing his way down your clothed body while hands pushed your skirt up over your hips. Coming to rest between your legs Secondo took in a deep breath, breathing in your scent.

"Meraviglioso." Leaning up he bit down on the thin waistband and pulled them down, a sticky strand of your wetness connected your panties to your pussy for mere seconds. Secondo left them at your knees a type of restraint as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. "Ringrazia il signore oscuro per questo pasto." Spoken before his tongue dipped between the folds of your pussy from bottom to top, his tongue cupped to collect the sticky mess between them swallowing it with a hum of approval.

Your breathing hitched as his tongue pressed flat against your soft flesh, following your slit slowly hands hooking around your thighs tight enough to leave bruises on the soft skin. Your lips parted moaning and panting for him to quicken his pace your hips arching trying to fuck yourself on his tongue however his hands moved to grip your hips pinning them down harshly making you whimper. "Ah, ah, Sorella." He spoke against your puffy lips his sharp fangs teasing the sensitive flesh. "B-b-bu- but Secon-OH!." You gasped as his tongue finally slipped inside of you, your hand rested atop his head as he ate you out mercilessly, bringing you closer to the edge closer and closer until a flick at your clit sent you over.

You cried out as you came you could feel the throbs in your pelvis the clench of your pussy you felt your blood rushing from your pelvis down to your legs and back, your hips arching up against his talented tongue as you came. Coming down from your high you felt the couch below you shift and the sound of a belt clicking about. You opened your eyes in time to see Secondo rolling a condom over his cock, the paint on his chin smudged he was breathing hard. In seconds he was above you crushing his lips against yours you could taste yourself on his lips especially when his tongue forced its way past yours.

Taking hold of the base of his cock Secondo teased your pussy tapping it against your clit making your legs twitch with each tap. The grumble you gave into the kiss made him break said kiss to chuckle darkly. "Fuck me Secondo." You breathed at another tap against your sensitive clit. "In a moment sorella, I'm savoring the look on your face when craving to be filled by your Papas cock." Secondo breathed as his condom-covered cock twitched against your clit. "Ah- pl-please!." Another tap. "Secondo!." Two more taps. "Papa!."

With that, he guided himself inside of you his hand left the base of his cock to take hold of your wrists pinning the above your head in one hand as he filled you completely making your breath hitch. "Bellissima, bellissima." Secondo panted as he settled against you enjoying the feeling of your walls around him, or what he could feel with that damn condom on. He kept your wrists pinned as he started a quick hard rhythm within you, his tip colliding with your cervix each time. You wrapped both your legs around him as he fucked you. "H-Harder!, oh Secondo fuck- fuck me harder!." You gasped out. "Cazzo-." He breathed giving a deep bloodthirsty growl his hips increased with both speed and strength the couch below creaking and whining.

"I-I'm so close, so cl-sloooseee Secondo!." You panted out as you felt that pressure within your pelvis about to snap, his free hand grabbed your chin roughly making you look at him. "Eyes on me when you cum sorella," Secondo growled his mismatched eyes staring into yours as he fucked you bringing you to your end, your gaze never leaving his as your brows arched your pussy clenching tightly around his cock as you came again your whole body shaking and trembling. Secondo rode out your orgasm keeping his eyes on yours even when he came to his end hot streams of cum filled the condom tip, finally, you broke the gaze your head falling back against the couch both your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Sei meraviglioso mio caro." Secondo breathed out his hips giving two more slow thrusts before pulling out of you.

You could feel your pussy twitch and clench at the withdrawal, it took a moment before Secondo stood up to take care of the filled condom the thing pulled off and tossed, he felt that it was such a waste of good seed, what he wouldn't give to really fill your womb, plant his seed and watch you swell with his child... Secondo shook his head to clear his thoughts you were his assistant nothing more... right? he glanced over his shoulder at you as you came down from the high body trembling. Even he could not deny that you looked so beautiful recovering from a good fucking. "Sorella." "Yes, Secondo?." You asked from your spot on the couch. "It is getting late, you should return to your dorm room." You tried hard to hide your disappointment nodding as you sat up to retrieve your panties. "Buonanotte, sorella." He spoke heading into his room and closing the door. Slipping your panties back on you collect the folders and finish your wine before leaving once you made yourself presentable... what exactly were you to him?, or what were you to Papa Emeritus the second?. --To be continued--

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copias-sewer-rat · 10 months

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IN HIS IMAGE [SECONDO x f!reader] - CHAPTER II

Secondo is absent and you deeply miss him, what antics will you too come up with to make the separation a bit more tolerable?

Welcome to the 1% plot of this fic. I wanted to try something fantastical/ritualistic for this one, hope you don’t mind.

tw/tags: smut, +18 warning, established relationship, m/f relationship, phone sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, satanic ritual mention, mention of dagger, semi public sex (kinda?), dom!Secondo, possesive Secondo, p in v action, cowboy. 3.7K words

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You feel fucking lonely.

Secondo had left for a business trip, for a week! How dared he? Didn’t he know how much you love him? How much you miss him? It is only Wednesday, he is supposed to come back on Sunday. You cannot take it anymore, wearing his clothes, chatting with him, looking at his pictures, everything makes you even sadder and you are at your limit.

There is something you could do, something to quiet the ache existing between your legs (and in your heart, but right now your pussy is winning the battle against your heart). A few weeks back you had acquired a dildo with the form of your lover’s shaft… However, the thought of using it alone felt almost sacrilegious… good thing then that you were a Satanist. Good fucking thing…

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A month earlier…

The altar was dimly lit with a few black candles and the light of the full moon hovering over the chapel. Secondo stood there, atop of the set of stairs, preparing the altar. A beautiful ornate dagger in his hands, a simple dark green robe covering his body, the same one you were wearing. It was cold but somehow you could feel Secondo’s body heat reaching to you from the considerable distance that separated you both. The Olde one must have been present, must have known how much you long for each other.

“It is ready, tesoro. Are you sure you want to do this?” You smiled at him, going up the stairs slowly, meticulously, without breaking eye contact. “I know what you said cara, but this bond is meant to last forever… Are you absolutely sure?”

You grabbed his face, careful to not smudge his paints, looking into his powerful gaze, his eyes full of love. After your first adventure with the dildo, you had opened up to Secondo. Everything that worried you about the relationship, all that you felt and still feel about him: pure and unconditional love, but also anguish. Feeling like only a side plate, just a peaceful place for him to return to and nothing more. Secondo’s gaze softened when you had told him. Guilt wasn’t an emotion that he was used to feel, but when it comes to you… He felt guilty for not noticing it, for neglecting that side of your relationship for so long. After that, the laid his true feelings for you bare, raw, passionate. He also loved you deeply, fervently, eternally. He wanted to make everything official with you, it was not that he felt ashamed of being seen with you, he was afraid that the pressure, the title, the responsibilities and of himself. He feared that he would scared you off if he let you in completely. He knows better since then that you are there to stay, forever, no matter what.

“Caro, I love you, and I want to be with you always. I think that’s not too much to ask, is it?” You put your index finger over your closed lips, a mocking gesture of pondering. Secondo couldn’t avoid to laugh at your antics.

“I think that that is the most noble of reasons, tesoro…” He answered, grabbing your hand in his and pecking your lips. Before he could part you returned the kiss, a loving confirmation of your devotion. He closed his eyes and when you separated you were already looking at him when he opened them again.

“Yes, my love, I am sure…”

Without any other words he started to chant in perfect Latin, a prayer he had learned by heart so he could just focus on you, nothing else. He laid you on top of the altar, revealing your naked self to him and he did the same, taking his robe off and tossing it to the ground. Secondo took your hips, his face dimly lit by the candles, harsh shadows marking his features, his mouth still chanting in Latin something that you could not understand:

“Duo unum sunt.

Domine satanas buius caritatis testis mugire,

aeterne.”

He took you there, made love to you, so sweetly. The dagger came to play later, he made you drink from him and he drank from you. Then, he came inside of you and you came around him. Lustful union, eternal.

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Present day…

You pick your phone, sending a quick message to your partner:

‘Caro, are you free to talk?’

‘Aren’t we talking?’

‘I mean like in a phone call!’

‘ah…’

‘What you mean ah?! Are you free or not?!’

‘I was just teasing tesoro… relax… what has gotten into you?’

‘Nothing… I just miss you…’

‘Oh, you sweet thing. Give me due minuti.’

‘Okay… thank you.’

You wait, so impatiently, and then you remember that you need to get it ready. Quickly you sprint towards your bedroom wardrobe and retrieve the object you long for: the dildo. It looks like the first day, big, wide, a bit fantastical but so unmistakably him. You want for Secondo to know how much you actually miss him, how deeply you want to feel him… all-the-time.

You rush back to your bed and take off your pajama pants, leaving you only dressed with one of Secondo’s old tees and your black lace panties, one of Secondo’s favorite pairs . The shirts are always too big for you, but you do not care. Secondo himself was known for being somewhat of a monster in terms of size (all the sizes). Being as tall as some of the tallest ghouls, buff and a bit tender, soft tum, perfect to lay your head against to take a nap, voluptuous man boobs and a firm butt and thighs. He is also very strong, like dead lifting strong. Even at his age he was able to carry you around using only one arm.

You began to picture it, Secondo lifting you up, slapping your ass like a raw piece of meat, whispering in your ear all the depravities he is going to do to you… You start to feel hot again, your nipples poking the cold fabric of the shirt and you take a whiff of it. It smells like expensive alcohol, mint and burnt wood… and of his sweat. You asked him to wear a couple of shirts before he left so you could wear them yourself. This particular one, an old Missfits tee, was one of his favorites (and yours too). Particularly, he had worn it right before he left, while exercising. You saw him lifting himself on the exercise bar that hangs on your bathroom door, wearing only a pair of boxers, which absolutely let on the fact that he was hard all the time while exercising, and that tee… let’s say that the boxers didn’t stay on for far too long after that.

The memory is enough to get you soaking wet. You are about to act on your desires when suddenly the phone rings. You groan, but then you remember who is going to be at the other way of the phone call.

“Hello handsome…” You say, trying to sound seductive, but it sounds more needy than anything.

“Buonasera cuore mio… Is there anything wrong?”

“Yes… a lot of things actually, but first… are you alone?” You ask, a playful grin adorning your lips.

“Si… I had to excuse myself on behalf of a very urgent phone call… They told me I could use a private office to do so…”

“Good… the matter is very urgent indeed.”

“What is it tesoro? Are you hurt?” Secondo asks and you have to use all the will power in you to keep a straight face.

“Yes, I am caro, very hurt. My feelings are hurt, I miss you so much I cannot sleep, I want you to hold me close, I want to feel you everywhere, to make me yours again…” There is a long pause… you can only hear Secondo’s deep breaths, not in an exasperated manner, but in a trying to control himself way.

“Tesoro… we had a very long goodbye session to avoid these kinds of issues, remember?” You blush at the memory.

“Well… yes…” you answer, trying to sound hurt “it is your fault thatI need you all the time…”

“Maybe it is…” Secondo agrees with a thinking tone. “Do you have any idea that might lessen your pain tesoro?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do.” He hums, trying to control himself, but you can hear his elaborate breathing through the speaker. “I have remembered that there is something here with me that can help me… maybe you could guide me with it?”

“Oh, glorioso Satana. Do you have it with you now?”

“I do.”

“Bene…”

“What should I do first Papa?” You ask, sounding so submissive, so ready for him.

“Fucking- first you should take off your pants dear…”

“Already done sweetie. I am wearing nothing but your shirt and my lacy black panties.” You hear a deep groan at the other side of the call.

“Tesoro, you know how much I love those… and you are wearing my shirt… holy fuck you must look so fucking perfetta… so sinful, so tempting, la mia mela…” The tone is sultry, slow, sensual… how bad you wish you had him in front of you. His breath slows down, it sounds heavy, it even feels heavy. It is wet, needy, full of lust and you can only swoon.

“More caro, tell me more… what next?” You ask, biting your lip.

“Mmmm, remove your panties for me you sweet thing, slowly… leave the shirt on, I want it back smelling of you, of your arousal…” It is inevitable, the moan that escapes you and you want him to hear it so badly. You do as he says, the wetness in you getting hit by how cold the air of the room feels. The contrast makes you shiver slightly, but it only feels uncomfortable for a moment.

“It is done, I am bare now but for your shirt.”

“Fuck… give me a moment dear…” The sound of fabric rustling does not escape you, neither does the sound of the zipper going down. He must be getting his cock out of the confinement of his pants.

“What are you doing caro?” You ask knowingly, trying to hold a giggle.

“I am letting my fucking cock free so I can fuck you like you deserve my sweet…” You blush, deeply. “Nothing else but my cock can fuck you, only me… only my cock.”

“Yes Papa…” You agree and he groans. He must have done something, how badly you wish you could see him. However, the intrigue… it fuels your imagination to no end. In your mind he is in front of your, sitting comfortably on the armchair at the other corner of the room, guiding you, stroking his cock, groaning in pleasure, telling you how good you are fucking his cock.

You are waiting for something, a word, a command. Secondo is taking his time, teasing you. He knows how imaginative you are and he is letting you suffer. That fucker…

“Caro, please… What should I do now?” You whine and Secondo chuckles deeply. He is pleasuring himself, you imagine and you almost want to do the same yourself, fuck his orders, you want to fuck him so badly it is eating you from the inside.

“Così poca pazienza… Va bene, spit on your hand and stroke my cock with it dear, I need it nice and wet for you…” You do, slowly but surely you coat his entire member with your spit. It feels a little weird doing this to a dildo, but then you hear Secondo’s soft moans and you know the ritual is indeed working. The dildo is even emiting some sort of bluish glow and then you know. He is before you, you are stroking his real cock and it feels so warm.

“Brava ragazza, I can fucking feel you, your hand… is that weird?” He asks and your breath fastens.

“I can feel you, my love. Your dick, it is so big… fuck…”

“Cazzo, tesoro… I am going to fuck you… so much, so good, so perfect per me…”

“Please, Secondo, please fuck me already. Don’t tease me any longer.”

“Such a beggar, so needy for my cock… Sit on it my sweet, and let me hear you.”

You oblige once again, grabbing the toy. Sitting on your knees, you lift yourself up a bit and place the dildo right bellow you and descend slowly until you fill it rubbing your entrance. It is difficult, but you manage to sink on it with only one hand, the other one busy holding your phone, a very desperate Secondo breathing your moans through the machine.

“Fucking hell, fuck, fuck, fuck, so big…”

“Ecco, mia cara, stai andando così bene, prendimi intero…” He says as you slowly as you continue your descend, Secondo’s form stretching you. Suddenly, it is filling you entirely and you gasp. You know your knees will be hurting in the morning, but you don’t give a shit. What matters is that he is inside of you, you can feel him, pulsating inside, a faint glow coming for your wet entrance. The ritual did indeed fucking work.

“What are you doing now tesoro?”

“I am seating on you cock, gosh, it is so big, so perfect. The perfect fit.”

“Fuck… move up and down for me bella and let me hear how wet you are against my cock…” You do as he says and put the phone on speaker, placing it on the bed next to where the action is happening. You lift yourself slowly and then go back down with force, gasping for air once again once you make it all the way down again. “Dammit, that sounded so fucking wet, and I can feel it, your pussy, so tight… Is it all in?” Secondo asks almost without breath.

“It… it is, my love, you feel so good… I have missed you so much…”

“Tesoro, I have missed you so much as well… cazzo.” You wish you could see him right now, he must be so fucking hard.

“What are you doing, caro?”

“I am fucking deep inside of you, that’s what… And I am going to let you ride me, baby. Can you do that for me?” No words leave your lips, just a simple hum of confirmation. “Brava. Lean over and place your hands on the mattress, imagine it is my pecs.”

“Yeah… dear Satan bellow…” You moan, as you feel the dildo move slightly out of you, granting some relief.

“Very good, that’s it. Now rise your hips slowly.” You do as he says and the dildo slowly gets further from your core. “Now start with a rhythmic motion, circular, up and down, take whatever you need from me my dear…”

You are too lost to do anything else, Secondo’s voice feeling like master guiding every move of a puppet. You go up and down, feeling his actual heat, his twitching, his very form. Your hands even if they are on top of the mattress do not feel the soft sheets, but a pair of hairy pecks, hard and voluptuous.

“Caro, ah- where are you?” You ask, trying to fuel your mental image of him.

“I- I am on top of a desk, laying up, shit- I can feel you on top of me tesoro… can you feel me too?”

“I fucking can Secondo, holy shit… You are right here with me- ah- fuck- so good…” You moan, when you feel a pair of hands grabbing your thighs. “Fuck me! FUCK! Secondo I need to go faster… can I go faster? Please-ah?” The plead escaping you with the remnants of your breath.

“Donna peccatrice, cazzo, vai più veloce per me… yes, my love, go fucking faster.”

You pick up the pace, the circular motions long forgotten, you are just going up and down and you swear that there is a noise of flesh hitting flesh in the room. You wonder if Secondo can hear it too. The wetness inside is out of this world. You have learned by heart how Secondo feels, his muscles, his body hair, his mouth finding all the spots that make you wild, his cock… How he parts your folds with it with such ease, how he thrusts into you like you were about to disappear, trying to keep you by his side with each slam of his hips. This is something else, the ritual must have enhanced your lust, your core is already tight, you are holding for dear life. In this position it feels like he is impaling you, the erect member between your legs like a sword thrusting to hit the exact spot that will make you cry of pleasure.

There is no sound for a moment, just muffled hums, praises and curses filled with lust. You feel like you are abandoning your body, going to a plane above this one, the ecstasies filling every inch of your body with every movement of your hips.

“Tesoro, I need to see you, per favore-ah-cazzo. You are taking me so well, I need to see your tits fucking bouncing in front of me. I need to see your face while you cum around my fucking cock ah-ah- I know you are close, I can feel it, so deep inside, it is making me go wild, tesoro.” As best as you can, you video call him, placing your phone on the pillows in front of you, trying for your whole form to be visible for him. One ring, two, then he picks up.

Secondo looks like a beautiful mess. He has placed the phone on a chair facing the desk he is lying on. His dick bouncing with every movement you do, his chest covered by a black shirt that is a couple of buttons away from being completely open. A necklace of the Ghost project falling from his chest… You don’t see his papal robes so you assume he has discarded them somewhere in the room. Once he sees you, his t-shirt hugging your sides, your pussy meeting and letting his cock in and out with such ease, the dildo glistening with your juices and the small glow from the ritual… his mouth just hangs open in pleasure.

“Fucking shit, my love, la mia colomba perfetta, amore della mia vita, sei così perfetta, così bisognosa, così lussuriosa…” You open your mouth to let out a silent scream while you observe Secondo raising his arm. His clothed finger finds your open mouth as it always does and you suck hungrily, your tongue twirling around the invisible digit. “Fuck I can feel your wet mouth around my finger, that fucking ritual… the best decision we have ever done.” You can only hum around his finger, bouncing like a happy rabbit. “Let me feel you more, you are doing so good for your Papa. I fucking love your tight pussy, your tits, your ass, so fucking ah- good.” He takes his finger from your mouth and aligns it alongside his other one to where your tits are supposed to be. He looks at you, tears wheeling in your eyes, lost in divine pleasure and he goes for it, testing the reach of the lust ritual.

He grabs your tits with force, an once again faint glow meeting his touch, his thumbs caressing your hardened nipples under your shirt. Fuck, you can feel him under your shirt. Secondo manhandles your tits expertly and you just lean back a bit, throwing your hands from his pecs to his thighs, digging your nails into them.

“Fuck Secondo, fuck, I am going to cum, I- fuck, fuck, fuck me- ah, I am going to cum, I- I-” You scream, the tightening in your abdomen getting more and more desperate by the second, you have been holding it for a while, waiting for Secondo to get there as well.

“Cazzo, tesoro, come together with me, feel my seed inside of you, let me fill you up, my precious little thing…”

With a couple of more thrusts you explode, the walls of your pussy contracting around the toy and also Secondo’s cock. Through your phone you can see it, his cock getting milked, your invisible walls clenching his member into blissful release, the glow around his member shinning brightly while you cum. He does as well, shooting ropes into you, and you can feel them, his hot seed filling you up. Not only that, you can see it. Through tearful eyes you see his release hitting your walls and falling into his balls and him legs. His teeth are clenched and his hands are grabbing your tits with even more force, trying to get the most pleasure out of the moment. He is so far gone that he even draws a bit of blood from his lips.

Everything feels otherworldly, the light in the room like halos, the glow from the places you are touching each other slowly fading, your shared breaths filling your ears and you suddenly collapse on the bed, as many times before. With the motion the dildo gets out from you and Secondo gasps.

The t-shirt is wet with your sweat, but it still smells like him, you sniff as you hum contently. Secondo composes himself quickly and grabs the phone. He sees you laying on the bed, a blissful smile adorning your face, your eyes closed with exhaustion and he smiles back.

“Tesoro…” he whispers “are you ok?” You just nod slightly. “You need to clean yourself my dear…” You shake your head. “My love… I need to go, please know that I love you and… I cannot wait to see you again…”

“I- I love- you…too” the phrase comes alongside a yawn, your eyes still closed, they feel too heavy, as if every bit of energy had been taken from you.

Secondo ends the call, gets himself to look decent and parts from the office room. Of course, his mind is already rummaging on what to do to you next with this newfound power of lust.

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Italian /Latintranslations:

la mia mela: my own apple

così poca pazienza… va bene: such little patience… ok

brava ragazza: good girl

per me: for me

ecco, mia cara, stai andando così bene, prendimi intero: that’s it, my dear you are doing so well, take me whole.

Duo unum sunt. Domine satanas buius caritatis testis mugire, aeterne: Two become one. Lord Satan bellow be witness of this love, eternal.

Donna peccatrice, cazzo, vai più veloce per me: Sinful woman, fuck, go faster for me

La mia colomba perfetta, amore della mia vita, sei così perfetta, così bisognosa, così lussuriosa: My perfect dove, love of my life, you look so fucking perfect, so needy, so lustful.

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Taglist: @da-rulah @m0rbidmacabre @jogjosmowwdkfs @foxybouquet @oh-my-beel @allthisandtea @st4rving4in @deetz-ghuleh @redthefieryginger @mae-mei-m @sodoswitchimage @discountdemonwarehouse @molly-ghuleh @ghulehunknown

Let me know if you would like to get tagged!

#gonst #the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #papa secondo #papa emeritus II #papa secondo x f!reader #papa secondo x reader #the band ghost fanfics #papa secondo smut

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cupfullofpapas · 1 year

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Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader The results of the poll!!! Chapter 1: The choice

You looked between the two men uncertainty written all over your face, you looked back at Copia your eyes glassy with oncoming tears, there was heartbreak in his face but not for the 'what if' but the fact that you were in so much emotional pain. The Cardinal had been there for you in your saddest moments, Secondo knew your body by heart. You took a step towards Secondo and another but the thought of Leiah coming to you again you could just.. picture her there and it hurt even more now.

Turning you ran back to Copia colliding with him your arms wrapped around him tightly, face hidden in his chest, he was shocked his wide mismatched eyes looking down at you his arms held out to each side, you... you chose him?.... Secondo reached an arm out as if he could have caught you from his spot mismatched eyes wide and staring, the second oldest Emeritus was so sure, so positive that you would come to him like you always did no matter what the argument was, no matter what had been said or yelled you had always come back to him but this time... this time he lost you the one thing he swore he couldn't live without.

Unhooking his sunglasses from his jacket pocket Secondo slipped them on covering his eyes from your sight, he couldn't look weak, no he wouldn't allow you to see the salty tears that were beginning to well. He swore it would be a lifetime and a half before he opened himself up again to anyone that was for sure, his face remained emotionless a simple nod of the head before slipping back into the car. Secondo must have yelled at the driver given the fact the wheels spun as they left. Your face stayed hidden against Copias chest his arms finally coming to wrap around and hold you tightly his gloved hand stroking your hair as you sniffled.

"Shhhh cara mia, everything will be okie dokie." You managed a broken laugh at that which had him smiling. "Copia?." "Si sorella?." "Can we.. not go back to the ministry tonight?." "Where do you want to go?." "Anywhere but there."

Nodding the Cardinal continued walking with you back to his vehicle, opening the passenger side door for you. Slipping inside you admired how pristine it was for its age the Cardinal took very good care of it. Driving to a gas station Copia filled the tank of his car and bought a plethora of snacks, you silently thanked Lucifer below that the front seat was a bench seat it allowed you to snuggle up to him your head on his shoulder while his free arm wrapped around you as you both drove around aimlessly in the night listening to the radio every so often he would turn and place a kiss atop your head.

You drove around for what seemed like hours until Copia finally stopped at a little alcove that overlooked the town, you had fallen into a light sleep by the time the car had stopped a gentle shake rose you from your gentle slumber. Blinking awake you rubbed your eyes and sat up.

"Where are we?" you asked sitting up more. "Not at the ministry." Copia teased to which you rolled your eyes.

"Beef Jerky?." He asked holding up the package, you gladly took it as you got out of the car feeling the cool crisp of the night stretching your arms above your head, you arched a brow as Copia moved to the back seat of his car pulling out a blanket.

You smiled as he walked over to an area just under a willow tree and laid it out on an area of soft grass that acted as cushioning, the bag of goodies and drinks set down onto it. "Not bad for a last-minute date, no?." Smiling you walked over to the blanket watching as fireflies glew like twinkle lights in the sky.

"I think I like this last-minute date far more than that fancy high-class date." You admitted which put a soft hue of red onto the Cardinal's face as he stared at you. "Eh?.. oh sit, sit, sit sorella." Copia helped you down onto the blanket before he took a seat as well next to you.

"Not exactly traditional moonlit picnic food but I figured it would do." "It's perfect." Giggling you picked up a box of juice shaking it up as Copia did the same, poking the straw into the hole you held up your box. "Cheers." "Cheers, tesoro."

With a soft tap of the boxes you sipped from the straws, opening one of the little packaged cakes you held it up to his lips, Copia doing the same holding the little tasty treat to your lips. it was hard not to smile as you took a bite of the offered treat enjoying the feeling of the stiff chocolate cracking under your teeth and the taste of the cream filling on your tongue. Copias eyes went huge as some of it fell onto your chest, you wiped it up and licked it off your finger. it was only then you saw the intent stare he had, had on the drop, a devious smile came to your lips as you took the cake and tilted it with a little squeeze another drop of the cream hit your chest.

"Oopsie silly me."

"Yes, silly you indeed dolce."

Copia chuckled leaning in to lock his sweet lips with your own, you had forgotten just how soft they were, those sweet soft lips kissed down your jaw and even lower pausing to suck at your jugular, the move getting a soft moan from you Copia sank lower his tongue licking along your soft skin collecting the spilled cream.

Your fingers slid up into the hair on the back of his head as his tongue lavished your skin sinking it between your breasts as far as he could.

"Oh, Copia" The words came out in a pleased sigh you aren't sure if you laid back or if he pushed you back, all you knew was that your back was now against the cool blanket below and he was on top of you now your legs moving to rest over his hips.

You gave a soft breathly moan of his name as his tongue sank between your breasts once again sliding it from there all the way to your ear the lobe being taken between his teeth.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your hands traveled along his back sliding over his love handles down to the front of his red sweatpants. Copia gave a breathly moan against your ear as your hand ran along the arch in his pants, you couldn't deny the spark you felt when he touched you, and when you touched him, his lips found yours again as you both sank back into sensory bliss as they moved together. Feeling his tongue poke at your bottom lip you parted yours inviting him in to claim what was now his, you whimpered with need into the liplock which finally broke when both of your lungs were crying for air a thin string of spittle connecting your tongues for only mere seconds.

He wanted you.... he wanted you so damn bad but he didn't have any protection with him and he wasn't about to ask if you had brought any condoms on your business meeting with Secondo. For now, he would just let his weepy cock suffer however you had other plans as you pushed both his pants and boxers low enough to let the Cardinals cock fall free into the cool air.

"I..I..I...I don't have any condoms on me car-ah!-." Copia gasped as your hand wrapped around his need his hips giving a buck pushing his cock through your fist until your pinky pressed against the fine hairs of his pubic area.

"Again." Your voice was soft and lusty watching as his cock head vanished into your fist only to reappear with a shudder of a moan from its owner, after urging him on again Copia was fucking your fist moaning and making small pitiful noises as he thrust into the warm embrace of your fist. You were enjoying yourself watching and hearing the sounds of pleasure fall past your Cardinal's lips. "Tesoro I...I'm I can't-." Copia gasped while you lifted your head up to his ear to whisper.

"Cum for me amore." That was all it took as his hips sped up, moving erratically until he finally spilled his seed in thick warm ropes across your belly his load slowly seeping into your dress. Copia collapsed atop you his head resting in the crook of your neck you opened your mouth about to speak however the only thing that came out was a staggered moan as you felt fingers brush over your clothed sex. "Don't think you are getting away unscathed sorella," Copia whispered into your ear causing a shiver to run up your spine, as your Cardinal sank lower along your body his hands pushing up the skirt of that little black dress he didn't stop until he was face to face with your clothed pussy. You squeaked in surprise as he pressed his face against your panties you could feel the point of his nose press over your clit as he breathed you in.

"The sweetest of scents." His gloved fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties pulling them down until he was greeted with your slick, you barely had time to say a word before the Cardinal licked his lips and set in on his meal, you. Lucifer below you never knew how talented that tongue of his was, Copia had your back arching against the ground below. Your back fell back to the blanketed earth as your hips arched up against his face. Copia gave a soft growl against your sensitive flesh as his hands moved to your hips pinning them down, holding them still as he ate you slurping your wetness in like a man stranded in the desert would fresh water.

Your Cardinal moved to your pleasure bud taking the little bundle of nerves between his lips suckling softly tongue rolling against it from side to side. Your head fell back as you called out his name hips trying to arch again however his stronghold kept them pinned. His name was chanted from your lips as his tongue lashes became more desperate, Copia greedily ate you out bringing you to your peak not once nor twice but a total of three times you unraveled below him, the Cardinal felt a little power trip each time you came and called out for him.

After your fourth orgasm, your entire body went limp against the blanket. "Oh Satan have mercy." You gasped breathlessly feeling the tip of his tongue flick at your oversensitive clit, you caught his head between your thighs the move getting a laugh. Copia slipped your panties back up as he crawled up to lay beside you his arm wrapping around you and pulling you back against him, you were unsure of where all this bravery of his came from but fuck you loved it. You were content just laying there listening as Copia's breathing started to calm against the back of your neck. It was then that you felt a wet drop hit you, blinking you looked up at the sky as another drop fell.

"It's starting to rain."

Copia looking up got hit in his white eye. "Ah shit," He stood and helped you up grabbing the blanket before it could get too wet. You both hopped into the back seat of his car right as the rain started to pour accompanied by a low rumble of thunder, sharing a little laugh you both snuggled in to rest falling asleep together in the back of the car after an eventful day and night.

--To be continued-- Tag list: Comment below if you would like to be tagged for new chapters! @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus

#Cardinal Copia x Reader #Cardinal Copia x F!Reader #Copia x Reader #Copia x F!Reader #Papa Emeritus IV x Reader #Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader #Papa Emeritus 4 x Reader #Papa Emeritus 4 x F!Reader #Papa Emeritus II #Papa Emeritus 2 #Ghost #GhostAU #the band ghost #my writing #myart

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spectralmagpie · 1 year

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Added a crappy edited bg and some silly little lighting attempts 🫠

Please just let the man have his gloves so he can perform his retired anti-pope duties

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da-rulah · 10 months

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Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry.

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.

And he'd been right....

8 Years Ago.

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite?

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?

"You don't mean that."

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-"

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.

"If you go, I will never forgive you."

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him.

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality.

But it was too late.

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover.

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left.

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.

Then he'd never seen you again.

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.

He had to face you.

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.

Papa.

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that.

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa.

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night.

"I... It's... You look well."

That was it? That was all he could say to you?

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour.

"As do you."

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

"Troppo (me too)."

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-"

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now.

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now?

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath.

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago.

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.

He always did used to say you took his breath away...

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...”

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened.

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character.

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years.

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.

“The biggest mistake I ever made.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar?

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.”

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor.

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back.

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised.

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity.

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed.

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?”

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were.

“You can tell me why.”

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for?

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!”

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched.

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!”

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance.

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.”

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck.

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor.

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood.

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.”

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian.

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.”

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.”

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...”

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy.

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.”

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.”

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?

Everything. Anything.

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.”

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that.

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.

“But... I thought you said-?”

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart.

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were.

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...”

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through.

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.

Finally, here you were.

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now.

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears.

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...”

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged.

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.”

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.”

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...”

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him.

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met.

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below.

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason.

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another...

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages.

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him.

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment.

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more.

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him.

“Secondo...”

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.

Home. This was home.

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together.

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice.

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.”

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually.

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly.

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).”

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo #secondo x reader #secondo smut #papa secondo #papa secondo smut #papa ii #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus smut

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gravehags · 6 months

Text

your sin, your preacher

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: jealousy, possessiveness, rough sex, tender love confessions

Words: 1,618

Summary: You really should be used to this kind of thing by now but watching him with others never fails to make your blood burn.

a/n: AHA REMEMBER ME have a horny secondo fic based on a dream i had several weeks ago that i can no longer remember any of the pertinent details to. anyway cheers i did not intend for this to get so sweet at the end but i can't help myself. tender bitch disease status: terminal.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It wasn’t like it was the first time you’ve felt that pang of jealousy when the two of you were out but Sathanas did it sting.

The two of you are currently in Secondo’s bedroom both silently undressing after a Ministry event at a favored local club. All the upper clergy were present that night with only a handful of siblings - you being one of them. But you know you’re no ordinary sibling. Everyone knows you’re no ordinary sibling. Papa Secondo’s favorite. Papa Secondo’s mistress. Papa Secondo’s faithful little lap bitch. You’ve heard it all at this point and none of it really bothered you. What did however, despite internally chastising yourself every time it happened, was your reaction when you’d see others hanging all over your lover. And oh, did they hang. Painted lips close to his ear, promising him a night he’ll never forget as hands slide along his inner thigh. You had been speaking to Cardinal Copia that evening, the two of you complaining about your dislike of the music and the volume at which it was being blasted, when you saw a woman in a short dress, hanging on his side, her hand dangerously low on his belly. Secondo didn’t acknowledge her - instead electing to continue his conversation with Papa Terzo - but his disinterest didn’t stop her from continuing the path of her red-clawed hand. When she cupped your lover’s clothed cock, bile rose in your throat until the observant Cardinal took it upon himself to step in front of you and break your line of sight. You should be used to it by now, you chastised yourself, it’s part of the job. All part of the game he has to play.

Yeah well it didn’t mean you had to like it.

Having stripped yourself of your clothing and jewelry, you silently grab your nightgown - a short black silk sleep chemise gifted to you by the man watching you carefully from across the room - and head towards the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you. As you diligently remove your makeup you wonder if he could sense your irritation, feel the ugly green jealousy seeping off of you through the wall that divided the two of you. You wouldn’t be surprised, he’s always been startlingly good at seeing what you try your best to hide. Face washed, teeth brushed, you slip your nightgown over your head and loosen your hair with a sigh. With your hands on either side of the sink supporting you, you look up at your reflection.

He chose you.

You smile at yourself and push yourself off the porcelain and put your hands on your hips.

But it doesn’t hurt to remind him.

Turning around you shut the bathroom light off and open the door. He’s already in bed, mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk as you pad across the rug and fling back the luxurious sheets to climb in beside him. You don’t have to say anything as you lie on your back with your eyes shut and simply wait. He’s predictable like that. And before long, you feel a long, elegant hand slide across your belly and up to your breast. You pretend not to notice him even as dextrous fingers circle your nipple. When he pinches insistently, hard, at the bud you finally let your eyes fly open and as soon as you do, he’s upon you. He doesn’t kiss you but instead drags his crooked nose along your neck and inhales deep.

“Amore…” he breathes and you can smell the expensive whiskey he drinks on his breath mixed with the mint of his toothpaste. “You looked delicious tonight.”

“Did I?” you ask, attempting to sound disinterested even as heat and slick pools between your thighs. “Kind of you to notice.”

That makes him pause and you seize the opportunity to flip him onto his back and straddle his hips. He’s half hard between the two of you and you know he can feel your wetness as you pin his forearms above his head. There’s a fire in his eyes now and you grind down on him with a sigh.

“Diavoletta mia,” he growls, “you play a dangerous game.”

“Oh?” you idly lift your hips and grab his cock to tease the head at your soaked entrance. Your hands are no longer holding him down but he obediently stays in place, electing instead to watch you sink down on him with a groan.

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes rolling back at the way he stretches you. Frantically your hands search for the hem of your nightgown and in a smooth motion you lift it over your head and fling it aside. When his eyes meet the sway of your breasts you can’t help but smile with pride. You’ve never seen him look at anyone else with that gaze. Slowly, your hips begin to undulate as you slide off of him then take him back in. When his hands twitch you have to laugh - you know all he wants is to place them on either side of your hips and guide you.

“Ah, ah–ah!” The chastisement loses its bite when on the last syllable, his hips thrust upwards to fuck into you. He’s smirking at you now and with your brows furrowed, you take your hand and wrap it around his throat.

“So dominant, agnellino mio,” he taunts, “tell me does it lessen the sting of seeing that woman with her hand on my cock tonight?”

Your jaw drops and your face flushes in anger as you squeeze on either side of his throat. Bastard. Ruthlessly you begin to ride him, watching even as his iron control slips with each clench of your cunt.

“You’re–lucky–” you pant, flinging your hair back, “almost went home with someone else tonight. That–Cardinal Copia–is such a sweet man. I’m sure he would treat me right. Might–might even be able to fill me better than this too.”

You knew you’d gone too far even as the words left your mouth. With a roar, Secondo flips you onto your back and with one large hand, effectively pins both of your wrists above your head. You’re about to throw a retort back at him when he slams inside of you with such force your head nearly grazes the headboard. All you can manage to is moan, higher and higher, as he pounds into you at a bruising rate.

“Never–forget–amore,” he snarls in between thrusts, “you are mine. You are mine and I am yours, capisci? This body–ah–this body is yours. This–ugh–soul is yours. This bed is ours and this cock is yours.”

Your lips form the words but no sound manages to come out - how could it at the rate he fucks the breath from your lungs? - so you nod frantically, tears sliding down your temples. The pleasure is bordering on pain but you don’t even care, how could you when you feel so deliciously used? When your spine begins to tighten and you feel your body bend off the mattress, you come with an exaltant scream of his name, cunt spasming around the thick length of him. If he was wild before, feeling and hearing your pleasure makes him positively feral, grunting and swearing profusely. When his previously precise thrusts become erratic, his hips stuttering, you know he’s close and so you end his suffering and sweetly clench around him once, twice, thrice and he comes with a hoarse shout, pumping rope after rope of seed into your cunt. When he finally relinquishes his grip on your wrists your hands immediately cup his cheeks and drag him down for a fierce kiss. He remains inside of you as his body sags and leans into your touch, momentarily breaking the kiss to pant into your mouth and nudge your nose with his.

“Amata mia, amata cara ragazza…do not ever doubt your Papa’s fidelity. I am yours, mi hai sentito? Only yours.”

With one final, uncharacteristically soft kiss he slips out of you and collapses to the side. You lament the loss of him inside you but your heart is so full to bursting tears begin sliding down your face once more.

“Secondo?”

"Sì, bellezza mia?”

“I love you.”

Those words were rare to pass between the two of you and always have been but you have never felt it more fiercely here, in this moment, as your body aches beautifully from his touch. You dare not look at him, instead choosing to stare at the coffered ceiling of the bedroom as tears continue to pour freely. There is a moment, then another, and you realize he’s staring at you so you finally turn to meet his gaze and oh, what you see there makes you gasp. Those mismatched eyes you love so dearly regard you with such raw feeling a hiccup bubbles in your chest. Gently, he reaches up and with two fingers, brushes the hair out of your eyes, followed by your tears.

“I do not know why the Unholy Father has seen to bless me in my old age but cara…you are my greatest treasure. Dolcezza mia. The words do not do how I feel justice but I will say them all the same. Ti amo.”

When you were watching siblings of sin grind on each other to the tacky thump of club music earlier that evening you had never anticipated this is how your night would end. You’ll pay for it tomorrow - you both will - your body bruised and used and his knees and back aching. No matter, you think as you curl your body into his, hand carding idly through the dark hair on his chest. Anything would be worth this.

#papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #secondo x female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo emeritus #papa secondo #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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emeritus-fuckers · 2 months

Note

Ghost reaction to finding fanfic you write of them (smut, fluff or angst idrc) also feel free to ignore lovely

Papas reacting to fanfiction

WARNING: Copia's section includes Rite Here Rite Now spoilers.

Primo (he/him)

Reacting to „Souls on Fire” ♡ Yandere!Papa Emeritus I x Reader oneshot

Primo sat down to read after a long day in the garden, glasses perched on the end of his nose. You knotted your fingers together, you'd really taken some liberties imagining his younger self. Why were you even letting him read this?!

Despite your nerves, Primo seemed more and more delighted as he read. A small chuckle escaping him now and then.

"Ah yes, my younger brothers..." he mused to himself. "Such an adorably sinful handful."

He carried reading enthralled by every word. When he finished he turned to you with a truly devilish smile.

"Amore, it has been so long since someone has seen me for anything other than a wise old man who tends his garden."

"I think I know you better than most do." You winked with an awkward little giggle.

"Yes, you do." He says with a smile, then his expression turns serious "How did you find all this out?"

You eyes widen.

"The accuracy..." he shakes his head in dismay as you blanch.

"She was wonderful, I remember her well, she had a bit of a habit of running away... I can take you to meet her?" Primo looked so serious but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "In the cemetery, I sometimes still sit and watch her grave." You aren't sure whether to believe him or not and narrow your eyes.

"You won't leave me, will you amore? Because I can make you stay."

You hurled the nearest cushion at him. "I dare you try it, old man."

He scoffed and placed your laptop carefully down before holding his arms out for you. You couldn't say no to that adorable and loving smile.

"See, I have you completely under my spell." He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

"Prick." You mutter.

"That is not very polite, amore. If it makes you feel better, I love your writing. Luckily for you I am not a... 'yandere', but I do have an interesting past. I might tell you more of it if you promise to keep it to yourself and only yourself." Primo says with a kiss to your cheek.

Secondo (he/him)

Reacting to Day 23 of Kinktober: Blood - Papa Emeritus II

Secondo is not the one to snoop. He trusts you with his life. With his being. The Siblings of the Ministry, however? They are. They absolutely are. They also are completely unable to stay silent. So, when they blabber about you? He listens. He honestly just wanted to make sure that they weren't saying anything that he needed to... handle. He would never let anyone talk behind your back.

But they were blabbering about a story you written.. about Him. And that's what truly got his attention. Why hadn't you shown him before this point, anyways?

It didn't take him long to find the fic on his phone, he did have your writing blog on every platform, after all. Poker face on as usual as his eyes scanned over the words, carefully taking in each and every word. Memorizing them. Greeting you as usual as you walked into your twos shared chambers. Nodding and giving you a kiss, asking how your day was going and pointing you to the dinner he had made, as always. Going right back to reading, when he was done. Which wasn't odd, he was often stuck in a book, online or a physical one.

He doesn't say a thing for a few weeks. Bordering on a month. Just... waiting.

Not until your period, that is. He wakes you up with soft words and soft kisses, making you giggle happily, joining you with a shower and a wonderful breakfast, then gently leading you back to bed. Before harshly grabbing your wrists, asking for a safe word, and then doing Every. Single. Thing. You had written, keeping each moment to how you written it, and even going back to match it.

Perhaps a bit more mean, honestly.

Terzo (he/they)

Reacting to “Love Story” Terzo x f!reader one shot (READ CW)

Terzo wasn’t one to necessarily snoop at what you were writing. He knew it was your favourite hobby to partake in when you had free time. However, their curiosity got the better of them seeing a song connected to the story you were writing.

He put on the song as he read what you wrote, a little surprised to find it was a story about him. Humming as he began to reading. The first part was unbearably sweet, a smile appearing on his face as he read through. You did have a talent with words.

You walked in to him holding his neck as he read the second part, giving you a look of horror as you stood by. Awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck.

“Cara Mia…should I be concerned about where you got this idea to have Copia pose with my severed head from?”

You didn’t reply, just giving a sheepish smile as you came to lay beside them in bed. Looking at them with an awkward grin. Immediately setting off alarm bells in his mind.

“…you haven’t read the third part yet have you?”

Mismatched eyes returned to the screen as he seemed to fearfully begin reading the next part. His brows furrowing as they tensed up. Holding you close as if you trap you at his side, eyes widening after a few moments. Slowly looking at your sheepish smile.

“First thing amore, we are getting you…a very good therapist. Second…if I ever start acting that way I implore you to actually kill me. I am obsessed with you…but not to that degree.”

He huffed, putting aside the cursed story and stopping the music. Holding you close and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. Relaxing in your presence…

And hoping this inspiration hadn’t come from the bag he had hidden out in the garden…

Copia/Frater Imperator (he/him)

Reacting to Biggering ⸸ Cardinal Copia

Contains spoilers for Rite Here Rite Now.

"Wha- Amore, why would I- she's my mother! I would never-"

Copia stumbled over his words, looking between you and the screen of your laptop. He was just going to look something up real quick (although with his knowledge about modern technology, it wasn't really going to be too quick, but let's not get into those details), unaware that you left your Tumblr up with some sort of... story, as he assumed. He knew you wrote silly stories occasionally, but he never got to actually read any of your works. He got curious, especially seeing his name in the title of the story.

He played the song attached to the thing, since he deduced from the title that it was probably rather important. He knew he shouldn't snoop around, but curiosity got the best of him, as he got his glasses from his pocket and started to read what you wrote. He couldn't believe his eyes, especially at the end. While yes, he did enjoy the fame, he wasn't a villain! And he would never kill his mother, he mourned her death! He was heartbroken when he lost her!

And now, he was struggling to express just how confused he was by what you wrote. Even despite you assuring him you were just having fun with a concept of him, your anxious little ray of sunshine, being evil. A concept he did not really enjoy.

Needless to say, it took a big plate of rigattoni and about an hour of apology cuddles for him to stop pouting about that one little fanfic.

Old Nihil (he/him)

Reacting to “Tattoo” ♡ Old Papa Nihil x female!Reader (smut)

He begged and pleaded for you to let him read it. Hours and hours after he heard you'd written something about him. But you kept going bright red every single time. This story haunted you, it would never go away now that you had finally put pen to paper. You finally gave in when he looked at you with those simpering big eyes. Why not let him read it, it was out there on the Internet and it might actually make Nihil rather happy, even if it did give him a rather in depth view of your imagination.

You passed him a printed copy. He started to read, devouring each word.

At first he kept looking across at you, lounging on the sofa as you watched his every reaction. His gaze often went to your legs, which were covered by your jeans.

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly daring him to ask, but then he swiftly reached for his oxygen mask and took a large hit.

He must have reached the smutty part.

A playful smile lit up your face as he read on, needing more and more oxygen with every paragraph.

"Ooooh, this is very good." He is transfixed and you are almost as mesmerized by the obvious rising of his own seven inches. "You write very well." He added as he reached the fanfic's ending with the biggest grin on his face.

"Thank you Papa. I can put a skirt on later if you'd like?"

He reached for his oxygen again while nodding enthusiastically.

You walk over to him, settling on his lap which only excites the man more.

"So, did you get the tattoo, my dear?" He asked, gently trailing his fingers up your thigh.

You lean in to whisper in his ear.

"You can find out tonight."

Young Nihil (he/him)

Reacting to Papa Nihil falling head over heels for reader

"What are you doing?" Nihil watched the ice melt in his cocktail and huffed. He should have been doing his work but fuck that, he'd rather be having fun with you...

Except you were in his office, on his sofa, with your clothes (well, the shirt was his) on and worst of all, working. What in the Dark Lord's name had gone wrong?

"Baaaabe..." he stood behind you to see what you were up to and you froze.

"Oh, you're writing!" he said happily, he was always so impressed by your work. He leaned in closer to get a better look. "About me?!"

It started off about right, his broken heart, his fear of rejection... wait, how did you know?

"You think I'm in love with you???" You went red but kept typing. "Babe..." He whined again but then trailed off and kept reading.

"Maybe I am... I like this part." He says with a large grin hiding his hammering heart. He was in love with you, he really did smile every time he saw you. How had you worked that out?!

He let out a sigh of relief, it all made sense now. He should have just told you himself.

"Why d'you stop before the good part?" His hands rested on your shoulder as he started to rub them. "The world should hear about my skills in bed. How I can make ya scream my name." He winked before he started kissing your neck.

Yet you were tense, still embarrassed as you stared at your writing. Your shoulders sagged.

He goes round so you can see him as he knelt down in front of you. "You don't have to write your hopes and dreams, just tell me about them. I mean, by all means, write, I love you imagination but this..." He pauses thinking of the right words. "I do love you and I won't mess it up this time." He takes both your hands and kisses them.

"I love you too..." You said with the most perfect soft little smile and his heart melted all over again.

"You keep writing if you want." He leaned in, his lips achingly close to yours. "Maybe the world should hear about your skill in bed. You are truly a dark temptress. Write about it. Or you can tell me now and I'll make your fantasies come true."

Papas I and Nihil written by Nyx.

Papa II written by Zenith/Jasper.

Papa III written by Death.

Papa IV written by Nosferatu.

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whiskeyghoul · 20 days

Text

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

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

Credits: Divider by @wrathofrats

WC: 6,1K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few seconds of pure devotion.

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

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

It was going to be a long mass.

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drapopia · 3 months

Text

are you satisfied? (sister imperator x f!reader)

pairing: sister imperator x female!reader

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, younger woman with older woman, sister is a soft dom in this scenario, discusses misogyny in the Clergy

summary: A title was not just a word, but a sentence for every member of the Ministry. You couldn't help but take your own to heart.

word count: 5.3k

Read on AO3

author's note: FIRST SMUT WHOOOO! as a lesbian, i am appalled to see the lack of sister fanfiction. i have taken it up on myself to change this! this reader was not written explicitly as a lesbian, but it was a constant in my mind. she does like traditionally feminine things, and i have written her as femme. everything else is up to your hearts content! likes and reblogs are always welcome!

as always, minors do not interact.

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It was common knowledge that the Clergy ran on titles. Though power was the driving force, whether it was the seeker of power or the one beholden to it, titles were how you got places. Whether it be a Bishop moving to a Cardinal’s office, or a Sibling being allowed to be a stagehand on tour, you had to have a title that fit the role you played in the large scheme of the Ministry. You were reminded since the day you had arrived that the Dark One encouraged your ambitions, that you were to pride yourself on who you were.

Even more fun were the unofficial titles. Although Papa Emeritus the III was the leader of the church, dignified and charming as he may be, it couldn’t stop others from letting less than kind names slip from their lips. Papa Emeritus the II had the unfortunate unofficial nick-name of ‘cold bastard’, while Terzo had been afforded ‘pompous asshole’. The higher you rose in these hallowed halls, the quicker the names were pinned to your back.

But you weren’t ashamed. You had risen quickly out of your novitiate classes, a reward for countless hours spent staring at your textbooks, the amount of additional seminars you had attended so that someone, anyone, would remember your kind and curious eyes. You had sacrificed all your time, refused countless invitations into attractive Siblings’ beds. Though it wasn’t all bad. You had lapped up every morsel of information as quickly as it had been set before you, practically licked the plate and groaned for more. To you it didn’t matter if you had to settle your own needs with your hand if it meant there were no distractions. To know your goals and ambitions were within reach were pleasurable enough. The words that your fellow Siblings coined you with meant nothing. Reclusive, arrogant, self serving. None of these had slipped into your mind as you hungrily peeled back the letter opening to see where you had been placed at the end of your lessons. Top of the class, you thought to yourself with a small grin. A placing in the Clergy is what mattered most to you.

Personal assistant. You had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at the hand scrawled ink on the paper. And with that title, you met the woman who reigned over your life from that moment onwards. How were you supposed to ignore the urge to hold yourself to her, to follow her down every hallway? From the way her pointed toe heels sounded on the polished floor, to the suit and skirt that invited a hungry glance, everything about Sister Imperator commanded attention. You were no stranger to the rueful hisses in her direction, the names spanning from bitch to worse. Yet here she was, the way she held every eye in the room a fact nobody could ignore. And why would you ignore it, you thought to yourself. Your eyes had always been on her, every facet of her being.

Just as the names followed her, they followed you. You had to admit, your personal favorite was the one that Papa Emeritus the II had become fond of saying as you followed Sister out of meetings: her little lap dog. Your cheeks heated at the thought, but never of embarrassment. The thought of her dark lined eyes, red tipped nails, the way her voice made you snap towards her. She had always demanded attention. To think of ignoring it made your heart speed up, a sweat collecting on the back of your neck as you thought of what would happen if you failed to please her. The thought had haunted you on lonely nights as you imagined your own manicured hands were hers.

And here you were now, at your small desk outside of a larger inner office, the A/C blowing delightfully onto your cheeks. Your hands ached deliciously as they typed, the tap of your delicately painted nails more satisfying than any other feeling. It had been a relatively easy day, the sun shining from the bay window making you feel hazy with the urge to doze off. But you wouldn’t, you couldn’t. Distantly, you could hear the shouts and laughter of other Siblings, the summertime heat appealing to the masses. Your head turned, looking out the window to see dozens lined up on picnic blankets, the trimmed grass trampled under their bare feet. You smiled softly to yourself.

“Sister? A moment please.” A voice called to you from the other office, and your head snapped towards it. The door was open, the wreath of dried lavender hung deliberately high. You stood from your office chair, smoothing out any existing wrinkles on your habit, and walked quietly to Sister Imperator’s door.

Your kitten heels clicked quietly on the floor, a subtle smile on your face at the sound. When you had first bought them, Sister had smirked to herself, folding her hands on her desk.

“A new pair, Sister?” She had smiled, eyeing them appreciatively.

You had nodded, the blush warming up to your ears at her notice. “Of course, ma’am. Do you like them? I thought that the red would look nice with my habit.”

Her smile remained, looking up to your eyes and narrowing her own. Her crows feet had crinkled, the small dimples noticeable under the crepey wrinkles around her mouth. “Of course, they’re quite… cute.” She nodded once, then turned back to the phone and picked it off the receiver, signaling the end of this conversation.

And now you waltzed up to her office door, those same kitten heels delicately tapping against the linoleum. You leaned your head against the door siding, looking in. Sister was looking at her computer monitor, leaned against the large cherry wood desk she had owned since before you were probably even alive. The papers on her desk were few and far between, organized correctly within their correct holders. Her hair was in a delicate bun, a few fly aways around her neck. The same red lip and dark eye combo she had always donned were there, her eyebrows furrowed in a smattering of emotions that you had yet to pick through. Her mouth was pursed lightly, the red even more prominent.

“You wanted to see me, Sister?” You said quietly, waiting a moment to truly look over the woman before you. Her head turned, her lips peeking into the trained polite smile she always had when she was dealing with a member of the Church. (This did not include any members of the Emeritus family, the smile was exchanged in favor of a frustrated frown and an exasperated groan).

“Yes, I did. Have a seat.” She said succinctly, the tone of her voice leaving no room for leeway. Though most would be worried, you had no room to be. You knew you were capable and smart, there were no marks on your record or notes on any files that left any room to debate that you were intelligent. And Imperator knew this, reminded you of it with small remarks. Many didn’t understand that she rewarded those where it was due. The feeling of pride that bubbled up in your stomach when she smiled down at you always simmered down into a deep heat between your thighs that you fought to ignore. Her words were sharp, capable of cutting down even the most boisterous member of the church. She was dedicated, her devotion to Satan made you weak in the knees and made it impossible to focus. Want was nothing compared to the yearning you felt to curl up under her chin and ask what you can help her with, what you could do for her. What wouldn’t you do for her?

You nodded, padding over to the cushioned armchair in front of her desk. “What can I do for you?” You said softly, a polite smile on your own lips mirrored against hers.

Her hands dropped below her chin, her gaze meeting yours. “I’m unsure if you’ve heard,” she started, one hand dropping down to grab a piece of paper in front of her, “But we’ve had an issue with the building’s plumbing recently.” Her eyes dropped down to the paper in front of her, her green eyes running over the information.

Your smile dropped an inch. You had spent an hour on the phone earlier practically begging the water company to come out and take a look at the pipe crumbling in the basement of the church. They had been reluctant to visit a Satanic church, a common fear the public shared that you had become exasperatedly aware of in your time as Imperator’s assistant. “Yes, I’ve heard. I managed to schedule a plumber for later this afternoon, their ETA was recently-”

Her hand raised, and you stopped speaking. “I am aware of when they’re coming. I just wanted to let you know that the plumbing will be cut off to the Papal wing of the church, as that is where most of the problems are coming from. I wanted you to be aware so when they eventually come to you with complaints, you wouldn’t be completely surprised.”

A quick nod sent her way, and a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “Good.” She says firmly. “If you’d like to, you can take your lunch break early. I understand that there’s a small gathering of other sister’s outside in the Courtyard reading some sort of shared book. I understand you’re fond of reading.” Her eyes are scrutinizing, but as always, you aren’t afraid. You want her to see you, see everything you could offer her. To be in her orbit, watching her as she simply exists makes your eyes feel misty.

“I do enjoy it. I’d rather just eat my lunch at my desk, if it’s no bother.” You say softly.

“Feel free to do so.” She replies, eyes now focused on the monitor in front of her. No doubt an email you could handle, you think to yourself. Her eye bags are tight under her eyes, the almost purple shadowing visible under her concealer and shining a cool grey in the light of the computer screen. I need to order her a new setting powder, you think to yourself. Maybe a pink tone, that should help with brightening her under eyes.

You smile at her, rising from the chair. “Thank you. Is there anything else, ma’am?” You want her to say stay, for her to take your hand in hers and raise it close to her, for her to give you more. More than what she’s already so gracefully given you. More than you will ever be afforded.

“Not at the moment. Just keep in mind when the appointment is.” She replies, eyes still keenly focused on the screen, her hands typing quickly at her keyboard. Your stomach drops the way it always does, the feeling of not being able to do at least one more task for her. A nod, and your kitten heels find their way back to your desk. As you exit the room, the office doorknob gripped in your hand, you swear you can feel her penetrating gaze on your habit. But the door closes, and the mirage fades.

—----

Your slippers make their way down the quiet hallway of the Abbey, the high stained glass windows leering above you like a hawk. But the moon shines through the panes, a comforting gaze on your otherwise troubled mind. The pink puffballs on the top of your slippers bounce with your brisk walk, so accustomed to walking in heels with a quick gait similar to Sister’s. Confidence is what makes you known, she had said on your first day as her assistant. Her hand had rested on your shoulder, warm and with a firm grip. It never hurt, only grounded you in the moment you were sure you’d look back on frequently.

Your shower caddy bounces against your hip, your patterned robe cushioning the plastic tote you carry with you. You always took your showers in the nighttime, it was hard to shower with others around you. While there were stalls for privacy of course, communal certainly meant communal. You were certainly not a prude, not in this church. Nudity was celebrated, and the women you shared quarters with were without a doubt some of the most gorgeous you had ever seen. Timidness was not a trait befitting someone of your rank, but it was hard to ignore. And here you were, showering after everyone had curled up in bed. The water hitting the floor was a balm to the pounding in your chest. None of the Papa’s had thankfully come to you with any complaints about their lack of water, but you’re sure there was at least one email chain that they had neglected to copy you on, no doubt filled with ceaseless demands by one of them. (Maybe even two Papa’s if Primo had a muddy day out in the garden). Nonetheless, Sister had assured you that their complaints were null and void. The Ministry comes first, she had always emphasized.

The door to the washrooms opened with a wave of air, the lack of humidity in the air letting you know that there was nobody in this room to distract you from your nightly ritual. You took hygiene seriously. The other Siblings in your dorm quarters had teased you occasionally, your primping and preening often a sight to see. While it was a misogynistic stereotype that pervaded many minds, you can’t deny that your world often feels like it needs to stop whenever you chip a nail. (By Satan, with prices nowadays, a chipped nail is thirty bucks down the drain!).

A brisk walk finds you to the open shower rooms, sequestered away in the corner, but open for those to see. You weren’t a prude, but you needed your privacy. It had taken quite a while to adjust to when you had arrived at the Abbey, but while you had grown to find comfort in some odd changes, you wanted to shower alone. With power comes a private bathroom, you reminded yourself as you sat hung up your shower caddy and set to taking off your robe. Maybe one day the little lap dog will have her own four poster bed to lounge on, you said to yourself mentally, not fighting off the grin that spread to your face. You set your robe on the hook to the side of the room, crossing over once again and turning the shower on to hot. The pipes in the Abbey were ancient, either blisteringly hot or bitterly cold.

The water ran down your hair, taking a moment to work its way through down to the tips of your toes. You sigh, the warmth prompting you to soften. Yes, a shower in a private room was what you needed most of all. A cabinet to hold your skincare, a place where you didn’t have to lug your conditioners, shampoos, lotions, body scrubs, the list was endless! Being an assistant could take you places.

But was that what you truly wanted? Was the thought of privacy and elevation all that was driving you forward? All of the lonely nights you spent hunched over your desk all for the sake of a private bookshelf and a personal window? The truth was there. You wanted her. You flinched outwardly, your expression drawn in. While your hands reached for your body wash and loofah, you couldn’t stop continuing down that train of thought. Her hands, worn and soft to the touch were what started it all. When Sister Imperator had taken your hand and shaken it, a trained smile on her lips as she welcomed you into the Church was what had sealed your fate.

Dalliances were few and far between for you. In a religion celebrating sins of the flesh, it was hard enough to deny the physical needs you had tried so desperately to bury away. Your hands, while capable and trustworthy, couldn’t compare to the dexterous fingers of the other women in your dorm quarters, or one of your instructors licking fervently at your cunt in a dark dust-laden cloister. But they never compared to when she would softly tell you “Thank you for scheduling this.” or the way her hands would come to grasp your own in a calming squeeze. Always asking of you, telling you, showing you where you were meant to be. How could they ever compare to the way her eyes narrowed down at you in a praising smile? Other siblings could frown, flip her off when she turned her back, outright disobey her, but you would pray at the altar of her rigidity, knees bloody in reverence of how she had fought to make her way to the top.

Your reverie stopped at the movement of cold air on your backside, an unwelcome opposite to the warm steam your hot water had created. You tried not to turn around, but you could feel their eyes on you. Your loofah continued its journey across your body, scrubbing gently at your stomach. The padding of shower slippers edged closer, the gait steady and-

“Sister? Is that you?” A familiar feminine voice called out to you. Your hands stopped, breath caught in your throat. How were you supposed to turn around? Hopefully the steam is thick enough, how were you even supposed to respond? Maybe it’s not even her, you thought frantically.

Your body turns, loofah posed over your breasts, body cocked at an angle so they can’t possibly see your lower body, only your ass. Your breath caught once more. It was indeed Imperator. Her hair was loose, soft waves of grey and muted blonde let go of their usual hold. Her makeup was cleansed, soft dregs on eyeshadow still tight in the small wrinkles of her eyelids. Her skirt and blouse have been exchanged for a satin burgundy robe, the sash tight around her waist. She has a small tote of products cocked at her hip, not unlike someone carrying a baby. You notice with a small bit of happiness that she shares a love of expensive shampoo. Desperately, you try not to notice the way her robe seems to slip, her cleavage beginning to bead with sweat in the condensation of the humid room.

“Yes ma’am, it’s me.” You manage to choke out, lips dry, eyes firmly locked with hers. Her gaze remains locked on yours, her lips pinched together tightly. Although you can usually read her quite well, you can’t find the wherewithal to figure out the emotion, your brain too mushy with the situation. Your worst nightmare and your most indulgent daydream.

She turns toward the shower adjacent to you, to your minute horror, and sets her things down. “Good. I’m sure you’ve put things together, but the water company failed to inform us they would be turning off not only the Papal Wing, but the entire Upper Clergy waterline. It was quite upsetting, to be truthful.” You swiftly turn your head, your hands beginning to sluggishly scrub your body once more. Suds have begun to gather around your breasts, hopefully obscuring her view. Or hopefully not, a familiar voice whispers into your mind.

“I’ll call them as soon as their office opens tomorrow, Sister. I explicitly told them to limit their turn-offs.” You sigh softly, letting the water run over your body. You can hear her shower turn on, and stare straight ahead to avoid what is undoubtedly her shucking off her bathrobe. You will not look, you will not intrude. A title is not to be ignored. You bend down, plucking your conditioner out of your tote and popping the cap. A sigh to your right, and you freeze. And though you feel your heart plummet in perverse shame, your eyes look to your left.

And, oh, it’s just as wonderful as you’d imagined. Views over clothes cannot compare to the divine countenance of your beloved Sister Imperator. Her head is cocked upwards, facing the ceiling with her eyes closed in bliss. The warm water is drawing her in just as it had done to you earlier, a calming sedative to the day. Her stomach and hips hang low, pink stretch marks mottled against her love handles and thighs. They mottle her lower body, a sign of the past that you feel a sense of curiosity for. But the curiosity passes, and an all too familiar heat begins to burn lower. Her breasts hang heavy, pink dusky areolas with a pebbled nipple perked in the middle. The backs of her shoulders are coated in freckles, did she spend time outside as a young woman, or is it just natural? Her hair has begun to dampen in the water, droplets falling down her hair and trailing down the slope of her ass. The pockets of fat on her hips and stomach are pale, your mouth going dry with the sudden intimate realization that they are just as soft as you’ve imagined. You can see a thatch of dark grey curls, silver as they fade out to her upper pubis. While her legs and arms have begun to wrinkle, you know for a fact that you’re positively dripping.

A moment too long. “Are you satisfied?” A voice firmly says. You freeze, your eyes still firmly locked on her breasts, and you realize you’ve been bent over for several moments too long. Eyes shifting up, you lock gazes with Sister. To your shock, and horror, her face is void of emotion.

“Sister.” A huff of breath, your throat dry from staring at the slopes of her sumptuous body. Your body springs into action, your chest heaving and legs shaking from the pure arousal simmering in your gut. You can’t go back from this, the trespass has been made. Tears are trying to fight their way into your waterline, the tightness in your chest still coiled with the tightness inside of you. “I apologize, I can’t believe I’m-”

“I asked if you were satisfied.” She replies, her eyebrow raised in question. Your heart drops. If there was a time to show your cards, it was now.

“No, I’m not.” A whisper crawls out of the dry cavern you call your mouth. You maintain eye contact, as she’s always taught you. As she’s impressed upon you, your rigid and right Sister Imperator.

A smile curls across her lips, her eyes narrowing. To your amazement, she crosses over to you, catching your cheek in your palm. A sigh, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into her silky palm.

“I can tell.” Imperator says plainly, her lips still in the same smile. Her eyes are still level with your own, her thumb now weaving delicate circles into the apple of your cheek. She opens her mouth, her teeth now visible in a purposeful grin. “Have I ever mentioned the time I saw you fucking yourself under your desk?” Your heart stops, eyes widening. To know that she had caught you the singular time you had chosen to act perversely in public, the only moment you had allowed your walls to crumble in a hedonistic thrill?

She coos softly, her hand still cupped against your face. “Oh, I know you do now.” You can feel her other hand grip your waist, a soft gasp spilling out as she kneads the flesh in her hand. “If I had known you had felt this way, I wouldn’t have ignored you staring at me so blatantly.”

You can’t stop the strangled gasp that flies out of your mouth, cheeks flushing even further in the heat of the water. Your thighs clench together, the tightness doing nothing to stop the tension on your clit, the way you throb in the open air. “Sister, I’m… I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” You whine, trying to fight the strong urge to lean into her body, to feel her breasts against yours and to grip the hips you know feel delightfully soft.

“If I were feeling uncomfortable, I would have told you so.” She says, the sentence clipped shortly in a way you know she’s telling the truth. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to. If I were feeling any unease, would I do this?” She leans forward, her lips pressing to yours in a firm and open kiss, your mouth opening with a moan to accept it. The feeling of her lips on yours makes you want to sob, and as your mouth opens, her tongue lightly dips in, As you let her tongue twist against yours, you take the opportunity to lean into her. Her nipples push against yours, making the wetness between your thighs throb harder than you thought possible. The way her lips press against yours isn’t helping the need.

The need to breathe becomes obvious, and you pull away with a great breath. You lean against her, your hands clutched to her arms. “Sister.” You moan softly, a barely audible gasp. She looks at you, her cheeks flushed and her hair draped in a wet curtain on her shoulders. “Sister, I need you.” You confess. What you don’t say is how you always need her. Need her to tell you what to do, where to be, how to act. All you need right now are her fingers fucking your cunt, her lips on your neck, your hands holding her tits like they deserve to be held.

“I suppose I’ve made you wait long enough.” She sighs, her eyes raking over your tits, a hand gently cupping one in her hand. Her thumb passes over the peaked bud, a strangled moan crawling out of your chest. Her other hand trails down your hip, an almost placating soothing motion that makes you want to collapse against her. Her thumb pinches your tit roughly, then passes over it gently in a way that makes you keen.

“Please.” You gasp, a pathetic whine that you don’t care to notice. “Please, I need…” Your cheeks flush, your hands trailing down to her hips, feeling the rippled flesh of her stretchmarks in a delicious grasp that makes your brain turn into mush.

“Need what?” She says quietly, her hand moving to grip your cheek and meet her gaze. The knowledge that you probably look half fucked makes you moan, tongue passing over your lips once to wet them.

“Your fingers. Please, anything, Sister. I just need…” You trail off with a whine as her hand dips below to your pussy, the tension that has bubbled there for years finally breaking. You whimper pathetically, her hand still pinching delicately at your breasts. Her fingers, careful not to pinch or pluck with her nails, draw tight circles over your clit. You can’t stop the sob that crawls out of your chest, the ache in your pussy tightening. The slick sounds from her hands and your wetness echo through the quiet washroom, and you should feel some shame. But you don’t, only the thrill of having her hands finally on you.

Her hands continue, stopping their attack on your clit and sliding languidly from your entrance back to your bud in a sweet glide. “Does it feel good? To finally have my touch?” She asks softly, a quick kiss pressed against your lips as she smiles.

“Yes!” A gasp is torn from your throat, your thighs beginning to tremble at the torturous yet delightful feel of her fingers at your hole. Her index finger teases, a slow circle around your entrance that makes you arch into her. You’re lucky you had brought your floor mat into the washroom with you, or you’re certain she would have busted a hip by now with your bucking against her.

“You’re doing so well, sister.” She whispers, her hand kneading at your breast. Your chest heaves in the humidity of the room, and the deep pleasure that makes your legs feel like jelly. A gasp, followed by a high moan invades the air as she gently pushes her index finger inside, curling inwards gently enough to where her short nails won’t bother you. Her finger retreats, and is followed by an additional finger. They curl upwards, pushing against a spot that makes your clit throb. You distantly wonder through the haze of pure bliss where she learned to touch a woman like this, surely not just on herself? The thought disappears when her hand leaves your breast to drop to your clit, her thumb making short circles on your clit. You can hear just how sloppy you’ve gotten, the softness of your pussy making it easy for her to glide against your swollen clit.

Your head drops to her shoulder, your hands still clasped around her neck. Your hands card themselves through her hair, a small pull that makes her gasp, then giggle against you. Your lips meet hers, her lips overpowering yours in a swift pull as you wantonly moan into her mouth. Her fingers continue to piston and curl against the sweet spot inside of you that you had waited so long for her to touch. You knew you were close, could feel the intense pounding of your heart in your chest. Your tongue licked at her lips, and her teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip. “Oh, Sister!” You whispered, desperately moaning into her mouth as she stretches you out. The ratcheting of pleasure draws ever closer, your noises so shameless you were certain Lillith herself would blush, and with a particular tight circle against your clit, you fell over the edge. Crying out at the sheer delirium, you clenched repeatedly on her fingers, your slick gliding down her wrist.

Sister Imperator kissed your lips languidly, your lips moving slowly and stupidly from the comedown, your legs trembling from the force of your climax. You could have laughed aloud at the pure elation you felt, her hands smoothing along your thighs.

You took deep breaths, your eyes closing. Your eyes shot open, the hunger in your chest reaching a new height when you realized you had yet to touch Sister. Your hands shot out to gently grasp her tits, but her hands stopped you in your venture forward. “Not tonight for me, I think. Another time.” She said, her voice still controlled as always. If you hadn’t been able to see her flushed face and kiss swollen lips, you would have assumed she was declining a receipt at a store. You nodded timidly. Women’s bodies, especially as they grow older, can be unpredictable. Who in the hell were you to judge her for not wanting to lube up for the night?

Her eyes softened, a noticeable shift in her usual confident demeanor. Her hand rose, placing her hand on your shoulder as she had always done. “Now,” she said quietly, her voice soft in the thrumming of the showerhead, “I want you to clean up and wait for me in my chambers. The door is unlocked.” Heart beating as fast as you had ever felt it, you nodded dumbly. She wanted you in her room? For the night? Sister raised her hand, tapping your cheek to get your attention once more. “Off you go.” She said solidly, her hand falling away from your cheek and turning towards the shower head.

As you cleaned up, turning off the opposite shower head from hers and stepping into your robe, you couldn’t help but feel her stare upon you. The realization that it had always been constant made you feel giddy, the heady feeling of being under her care making you feel dizzy, Your head shot up, your body straightening. “Well, Sister,” you say softly, making your way to the door, “Are you satisfied?”

She turns to you, her head cocked back as she rinses the conditioner out of her long straight hair. She rakes her eyes along your own body, and lets the ghost of a smile flit across her face. “When am I ever?” She says, the purr in her tone making the hair along your neck prickle. You giggle, closing the door as you begin the short walk to her quarters.

Titles were meant to be followed, and you were more certain than ever that you didn’t mind being her little lap dog.

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #sister imperator #sister imperator x reader #mdni #reader insert #ghost band fanfic #sister imperator fanfiction #sister imperator x female reader #my writing

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demonicdames · 1 year

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A little writing project of mine that I have on A03 that I'm going to throw here to. Rated: E F/M Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Chapter 5: What a surprise Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Secondo stood outside of his office door his hand hovering over the knob the words of his brother echoing in his mind sweet Lucifer he hated this he felt like he wasn't in control and that he didn't know exactly what would happen next, not having control was the worst feeling for him, finally he opened the door.

You looked up from your folders and papers standing up to greet him. "Is everything okay Sir?." You asked his cold stare on you the look making you slowly sit back down, you watched as Secondo headed back to his desk taking his seat. "Cara Mia, please come here." Standing from your desk you crossed the room standing in front of his desk hands clasped in front of yourself. "Yes Sir?."

Secondo watched you silently making you feel a little on edge, "Sir?." "This weekend you will accompany me out." He spoke his voice sounding characteristically unstable which made you arch a brow in confusion. "Accompa-." "It's business." He lied threw his teeth, you still looked confused but nodded slowly. "O-Okay?." "That is all sorella."

Nodding still weirded out by the suddenness of this weekend's business, either way, it would be time away from the Ministry out and about. Your attention went back to your work sorting and stamping the stamp having Secondo's signature on it to make things move quicker. The day seemed to move quicker, thank Lucifer that it did you still felt weird about Secondo's words when was the last time that any of the Papa's conducted business outside of the Ministry? As the day came to a close you stood outside as Secondo locked his office door his attention turning to you.

"I look forward to this weekend sorella." His hand creased your cheek leather clad thumb rubbing over your bottom lip your eyes looking up into that cold intense stare he always seemed to have that always made you feel so tiny and helpless and you hated the fact it made the little pit in your stomach start to burn as your cheeks gained a hint of pink. Secondo seemed to notice this and flashed one of his award-winning smirks. "On second thought Sorella, why not stop by my room, for a drink sì?." Those gloved fingers of his ran down along the column of your neck that smirk turning into a grin feeling your throat bounce with a swallow, head nodding unconsciously. "A drink sounds nice after a long day of work." You replied with a sweet smile as Secondo rested a hand on your lower back directing you toward his room.

From around one of the corners, Copia peeked watching as Secondo walked with you something new stirred inside of him, jealousy? was he jealous that Secondo had you all day and now probably all night? with hands shoved into his pockets, the Cardinal walked away back to his dorm room you were his best friend he should get more time with you damn it, in his mind he marched to Secondo's room and kicked open the door swept you off your feet carrying you away. In reality, though he plopped down and continued his save file on Driving Miss Daisy a bowl of melting gelato beside him.

Back in Secondo's room drinks had been forgotten the Emeritus had you pinned against the wall chest to chest his hands gripping your naked ass holding you up, your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck his strong hips crashing into yours, condom covered cock abusing your pussy with each slam. Secondo smothered his face into your neck covering your skin in a smudgy mix of his paint and saliva. "S-Sec-Secondo!- I- I'm so close!." You gasped out. "sì sì cum for me little lamb." He panted into your ear between the angle of Secondo's thrusts and his words it all pushed you over the edge your body letting loose an orgasm that left you shaking. "Oh Cara Mia, we are just getting started." The Emeritus hummed pulling out of you and moving you to the couch giving you a shove and making you fall over the arm.

"Hey what was that-!." You gasped silently as his hand came down to rest against the back of your neck holding you down against the cushions his free hand moved to grab the base of his cock moving the organ to tap against your hard swollen clit twice before tracing your slit. Looking forward you saw a body-length mirror you could see the wild look in those mismatched eyes, the hunger the look of pure pleasure on his face as he slammed into you entirely making you scream against the cushions you watched yourself get fucked by this devil of a man. 'Fuck' was chanted from your lips each time his hips slammed into you, Secondo holding you down was setting your core a blaze soon you both came together bodies shaking as you both reached your ends the Emeritus pulled out of you his hand being pulled away from your neck as he went to dispose of the condom.

When he returned you were slipping your clothes back on and gathering your things. "Cara, what are you doing?." "Getting ready to leave." He stared at you for a good moment, oh yeah whenever you and he had your little romps you left or he told you to leave. "Unno- you could stay?.. if you. want?." Secondo spoke his voice sounding uncharacteristically unsure and slow-spoken, Your brow arched at the Emeritus as he leaned against the door frame to his bedroom or as he liked to call it his 'bed chamber'. Secondo was delighted when you slowly put your things down. "Okay- sure I suppose?." Taking a seat on the couch again Secondo tilted his head. "Dolcezza, what are you doing?." "Laying down for bed?." "No no no, you shall sleep in Il mio letto with me." You arched a brow confused. "My bed with me." "Oh!." Your face gained a hue of red. "Yes, I'd like that." Standing from the couch you headed towards his room however a hand held out stopped you from entering you looked up at him huffy what in the seven hells was up with this man?

"Mia cara clothes do not belong in the bed." That red on your face grew darker and even more so at his next word. "Strip, then join me." Turning away from you he headed to the connected bathroom to clean his face of paint, pressing your lips together in a thin line you started to do just that folding and setting your clothes aside along with all your rings and grucifix necklace. When Secondo came back from the bathroom with a clean face you had to stare he always looked so different with no holy paint on a pleased look crossing his face seeing you bare without a word he climbed into his bed the covers being lifted for you this still felt a little weird, to intimate none the less you slipped into bed your back to his chest.

A breath was sucked in through your nose as he laid an arm over you curling around your waist to bring you closer his nose nestled in your hair your face growing warm as you felt his cock against you the organ half hard. "The things you do to me." His tired gruff voice whispered against your ear sending shivers down your spine, there was something about having his strong naked body pressed up against yours and the possessive hold he had on you. Your mind went blank your hair was moved from your neck a kiss was pressed there the kiss was followed by an eager tongue that followed your life vein, his movements were slow and tender Secondo's hand drifted down along your naked body until it rested between your legs his skilled fingers finding your clit making you gasp his name.

A grin curved its way onto his face now this he could do, he could be in control Secondo's clean face smothered into your neck as his pointer and middle fingers slipped inside of you arching up making your hips arch back making to ass press against his now erect cock his fingers moving slowly inside of you at first then speeding up to bring you to another orgasm. Just when you thought he was done Secondo pushed his hips forward rubbing his cock against your wet lips. "Squeeze my cock with your thighs baby." 'Baby' the word made your heart flutter as you dod as he asked squeezing your thighs closed and making the Emeritus gasp his hips bucking before finding a rhythm fucking your thighs while his hands wandered along your body until one took claim to your neck making you look him in the eyes his other rolled your clit overstimulating your poor body.

A kiss is pressed to your lips as you both cum together his seed decorating your sex and thighs. Once you both had come down from your highs Secondo changed the sheets and blankets, cleaning yourselves up which turned into a quickie in the shower by the time you both hit the bed you were exhausted, this time you faced each other soft kisses being shared you never knew a side like this could exist within this man one last lip-smacking kiss and the two of you fell asleep.

You were awoken by the sound of an alarm that was not yours the room was still dark aside from the few little rays of morning sunlight that managed to get past the black-out curtains grumbling to turn into the warm body that was next to you as a heavy hand turned the alarm off. "Buongiorno." Secondo's groggy voice spoke a hand rubbing one of his eyes watching as you sat up seeing a few bruises from the night before decorating your skin, a mark. "We have to get ready." You yawned your voice groggy. "Wait- fuck I don't have any clothes here aside from-."

You looked at yesterday's clothing. "Could always dress in mine sorella." The Emeritus smirked as he stood up. "Please, I would vanish in your clothes." He shrugged before getting washed up, you following redressing in yesterday's clothes as much as you hated it you couldn't exactly run around the Ministry naked. He left first and then you after a few minutes had passed so things wouldn't look too obvious that was when you saw Copia, smiling you rushed past a few siblings to catch up with the Cardinal.

"Hey, you!." You greeted him with a smile, one that he returned after his initial shock and nonsensical noises. "B-Buongiorno sister!" He greeted back trying hard to keep calm, cool, and collected so you wouldn't notice the light dusting of red on his cheeks as you walked together. "I heard Papa is coming back from his tour today." "Sì Sì he is, it won't be as quiet around here when Terzo gets back." You chuckled shaking your head.

"Oh come on he's not that bad- well okay maybe he is but hey the quietness will be gone." You tried to sound optimistic though you both knew as soon as Terzo got back he would bring all his dramatics with him. Copia looked at you from the corner of his eye trying to figure out how you were so- calm knowing that just a few days ago he was- inside you and you calling out his name, the thoughts hit that man like a ton of bricks his biretta being pulled from atop his head and held in front of him attempting to hide his shame while he walked with you silently. You tapped his arm almost sending the cardinal into a heart attack his eyes wide.

You arched a brow chuckling. "You're jumpy today, anyway this is where we have to part ways." Copia watched as you nodded to Secondo's office. "Ah!, sì sì sì of course of course I will see you, later at lunch yes?." You giggled which made his face redder. "Of course Copia, you better hurry you know how Sister hates to be kept waiting." The Cardinal nodded watching as you vanished into the office a sign passing his lips. "See you... mi amore." Copia whispered staring at the door for a few minutes longer before heading off, stopping by the restroom first to take care of himself the last thing he needed was for Sister to see him with a boner.

Getting into the restroom he hurried to one of the back stalls closing and locking it quickly he couldn't waste any time in fear that one of the siblings could walk in hiking the bottom of his cassock up to his midsection gloved hands unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper one glove being pulled off. Taking a seat on the toilet, spitting into his non gloved hand before wrapping it around his erection mismatched eyes closing as he pumped his fist along his length picturing that it was your hand jerking him off.

Copia's mind fell back to that night where you'd 'helped him' how your throat felt, your tongue-. The Cardinal paused in mid-stroke as he heard the door open a couple of siblings talking about the return of Papa, Copia rolled his eyes as he grabbed his biretta biting down on it as he jerked himself quicker he could just picture you there on his lap bouncing on his dick your lovely cries of pleasure, the feel of your weight coming down onto his lap the bounce of your beautiful tits biting harder he came, his seed landing on the floor.

Once he got his bearings Copia cleaned up his mess and fixed himself up his making himself presentable before leaving and heading to Nihil's office to start his duties for him and Sister, the Cardinal was confused upon opening the door seeing Nihil, Sister Imperator, Primo and Sister Gemma all together. "Ah- hello there?." Copia spoke as Imperator turned around clapping her hands together. "Cardinal just in time! we have some excellent news, now we are waiting on only one other-." There was a knock at the door. "Ah!, shes here!." All turned to the door it was none other than- you, you walked into the door seeing all the eyes on you. "Hi?." You squeaked out coming to stand next to Copia who stood a bit straighter looking back to the group.

"You called for me Sister?." You asked giving a smile and waving at Primo who waved back. "Yes, I did you see." Imperator motioned towards Gemma. "It finally happened, Sister Gemma is with child." Both Primo and Nihil's chests puffed in pride, Nihil the fact his son knocked his Prime Mover up and Primo because he'd finally have his own little one running around, he'd save his worries for another day this day was one for celebration Primo took Gemma's hand in his a kiss pressed to her knuckles looking lovingly at her Primo's free hand resting on her midsection. "And that is why I called you in Sister," Imperator spoke her hands resting behind her back. "I am assigning you to Sister Gemma to assist her throughout her pregnancy." You were shocked it took you a minute to find your words. "What about Secondo?."

"He's a big boy, he can do his paperwork, now that things have slowed down a little." That meant you would be apart from him for quite some time you would be moved to the East Wing dorms, Gemma parted from Primo moving to take your hands in her own. "Sister, I appreciate this as I appreciate you and trust you the most I am excited to have you by our sides." You couldn't help but smile Gemma was always so nice even when you were a kid the amount of scrapes knees and arms she's kissed and made better was uncountable, Sister Gemma honestly was like a real sister. You gave her hands a light squeeze. "Thank you, it is truly an honor."

"Now with that being said." Imperator started. "About your housing, since that part of the Ministry will soon be under renovations you will be rooming with the Cardinal." Both you and Copia choked on your saliva at the same time. "What?." You both spoke in unison. --To be continued-- Tag List: @thesoundresoundsecho , @xpapaemeritus

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writingjourney · 5 months

Text

✻ Overview ✻

Ao3 ⛧ My Art ⛧ Edits ⛧ Join my tag list! other blogs: @ibikus (main and art blog) @kisstheobscene (ghost archive)

This is an 18+ sideblog, do not interact if you're a minor.

I currently write for characters from Ghost but I dip my toes into other fandoms, especially HotD/ASoIaF and BG3.

☞ Ghost (Band) Fic Masterlist

Cardinal Copia, Papa Emeritus I, II, III, IV

☞ Multifandom Fic Masterlist

ASoIaF/HotD, BG3, Bridgerton, Misc.

☞ Closer to the Gods

Alicent Hightower x f!reader || 3.1k || 18+

☞ Small Beauties

Otto Hightower x f!reader || 19k, 5 parts || 18+

☞ Here in the After

Copia x gn!reader, post RHRN || 1.8k || SPOILERS

☞ Short Fic Collection

I made all of my banners and graphics myself, please ask before using them! Do not translate, repost or copy my work to any other platforms, inluding any AI programs. All of my fics are solely based on the fictional characters in their respective contexts, and not on any real people.

#had to redo this bc i reached link limit #so masterlists are separate now etc.#overview #pinned post #masterlist

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osiris-iii-bc · 1 year

Text

Ghost Fanfic and Fanart Masterlist

To start, you can find all my profiles and activities related to Ghost in this Linktree. 🚫 Requests closed 🚫

Here is what I write about:

Papa Emeritus III

IYRIN - Terzo x OC [Multi chapter COMPLETE]

An Angel in human form gets kidnapped and brought to the Ministry by a group of drunk Ghouls. Papa Emeritus III is summoned to solve the delicate situation and avoid a diplomatic incident with God, but things take an interesting turn. Chapters: 10 + 1

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

South of Heaven - Terzo x OC [IYRIN spin off - COMPELETE]

A group of rival satanists attacks the Ministry. Iyrin, now a fallen Angel, is struggling with their new demonic condition, and things between them and Papa Emeritus III are not going as they both expected. Terzo’s revenge against the rival satanists during a Metallica concert only makes things worse. Chapters: 3

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

The night of the witch - Papa Emeritus III x F!Reader [One shot]

Papa Emeritus III has asked you to be his altar for the day after ritual. Somehow he manages to make you accept, but before there is a “private lesson” you have to attend to get ready for your role…

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

The thing that should not be - Terzo x Omega [One shot]

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 | Tumblr

The cigarette - These nights always end like this. [Ficlet]

Nothing more than a short rambling of Terzo’s personal way of saying goodbye after a night of love.

>>>> Tumblr

The Third Law - Terzo x F!Reader [Multi chapter - COMPLETE]

Terzo Emeritus is temporarily forced on wheelchair and crutches due to a knee injury. You have to take care of him and his house for a month and a half. Nothing you haven't done before, you’d think. Well, think again. Chapters: 11 (including Prologue and Epilogue)

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

Armat Victoria Curam - Teacher!Cardinal Terzo x F!Reader [One shot]

Cardinal Emeritus III is your Latin teacher, and he catches you daydreaming during an important private lesson.

>>>> Tumblr | AO3

✍🏻 COMING SOON:

No peace in Hell - Terzo x OC [IYRIN sequel - Multichapter]

Papa Emeritus III feels like Iyrin's conversion can be both a resource and a catastrophe.

[?] Papa Emeritus III (x occasional OC) [Multichapter]

Risen from the death by his brothers Primo and Secondo, Terzo Emeritus is sent to live out of the Ministry, with the task to plot a coup against Papa Emeritus IV military regime. life outside the Ministry is definitely not what he expected.

Devotion - Papa Emeritus III x all Ghouls [One Shot]

I am here to serve, Your Unholiness. Whatever your will may be, I am ready to fulfill it.

Papa Emeritus IV

Kids temp - Copia x F!Reader [One Shot]

Papa is going to have a day full of meetings and he had been working tirelessly on bureaucratic stuff for days. He must be so stressed, but you are there with only a cup of coffee to relieve his spirit. That can not be the only contribution you can offer to make him feel better, right?

Part I - Kids temp >>>> Wattpad | AO3

Part II - Dinner time >>>> Wattpad | AO3

Horror Vacui - Copia x Phantom Ghoul [One Shot]

Papa Emeritus IV is getting older and tired, but Phantom, a freshly summoned Ghoul who needs to be trained to the new world, is always by his side to relieve his aching soul.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

✍🏻 COMING SOON:

The winner - Copia x Reader [One Shot]

Copia lost his last chance to win a Grammy. He thinks he is a loser, you think differently.

Multiple Papas

Terzo once told me… - Cardinal Copia x Papa Emeritus III (non related) [Multi chapter COMPLETE]

A tormented, angst-filled one-sided love story between two lifelong friends and how they ultimately destroyed each other. Chapters: 4

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

The Devil in your details - young Copia x young Terzo [One Shot]

It was a more or less ordinary evening, an oversized T-shirt, and a possibly too excited Copia. That's what it took to end up in bed together, and for them to enjoy it. No major reason, no jealousy, no trauma or music, because that's where the Devil lie: in the details.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3

Cocoon - Cardinal Copia x Papa Emeritus III (non related) [One Shot]

Just Papa Emeritus III and Cardinal Copia enjoying some alone time in their new residence after a long tour. Work outside, cuddles in.

>>>> Wattpad | AO3 | Tumblr

✍🏻 COMING SOON:

Midnattssol - Cardinal Copia x Cardinal Terzo (non related) [Multichapter]

Cardinal Terzo Emeritus is back at the Ministry after five years of cardinalate in Poland, in time for the Midsommar celebration. Cardinal Copia is happy to see him again… maybe a bit too much.

[?] - All Papas x Mother Superior F!Reader [One Shot]

You are the Ministry’s Mother Superior. One of your duties is to please every Papa as best as you can. Luckily, that is one of their duties too.

Headcanons & ramblings:

Emeritus Family backgrounds

Copia is a sugar daddy for his Ghouls

Papa’s playlists

Terzo and children

Under the Ghouls' mask: I / II

Random ramblings

Papas in Italian cities: Primo | Secondo | Terzo

Fanarts:

Check out the tag #OsirisBC-fanart.

** That’s all for now. Take care and stay lubed 🔥

#ghost band #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #fanfiction #papa emeritus lll #papa emeritus iv #terzo #copia

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da-rulah · 4 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Ahhhh Jen thank you for thinking of me 😭 Oh god, what do I choose?! Okay I'm gonna go in order of my top 5 personal favourites based on their storylines and how fun they were to write, so here goes...

Confessional ~ Copia x F Reader [3 Parts]

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

Rituale Septem ~ Terzo x F Reader [8 Parts]

Your faith is shaking; 16 years at the Ministry, and what did you have to show for it? You'd never even heard the Dark One's voice like your Siblings... But what could you do? Well, you could ask the advice of the one person chosen to guide his flock through adversity; Papa Emeritus III. And he has an idea that might work...

The Mayor's Daughter ~ Mary Goore x F Reader [5 Parts, Ongoing]

Mary knew the entire town hated him; the metalhead with the freaky make up and fake blood dripping down his face. He was the local menace, the town vandal, the cliché trouble maker. He played up to that image, enjoyed the havoc and the chaos, revelled in it. He loved pissing people off. And so, what better revenge to get on his beloved town, than to fuck around with the Mayor's daughter…

In Cold Blood ~ Terzo x F Reader [One shot]

Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with. After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home. Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary?

Come Home to Me ~ Secondo x F Reader [One shot]

No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with...

It was so hard to choose my favourites, everything I write is so special to me but these one just have the edge...

If you'd like to see what else I've written, I have a masterlist here! 💕

#ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #the band ghost fanfic #ghost #ask da rulah #ghost the band #mary goore x reader #mary goore #mary goore fanfic

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gravehags · 2 months

Text

desinare

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

Rating: Teen

Tags: awwww look it's a pre-relationship fic just like old times, dinner party, reader meeting the papas, reader and copia being awkward little weirdos with baby crushes, papa nihil slander, references to other curator reader fics

Words: 3,784

Summary: Your very kind cardinal friend has invited you for a meal with three Satanic popes. Surely there's a proverb about this.

a/n: i had so so so much fun writing this lmao i didn't realize how much i missed writing them pre-relationship. my beloved nerds.

~~~

“Eh, signorina?”

“Fuck!” you yelp, dropping the stack of folders you were holding in shock. “Shit…sorry Cardinal. How do you move so quietly with all that fabric on?”

“M-many years of practice, heh,” he kicks himself for how stupid he sounds, wringing his hands while you smile kindly up at him as you stoop to pick up your papers.

“Teach me how some time? I’m always falling over myself. I’d love to have even an ounce of your grace.”

He can feel his ears burn as a dopey grin spreads across his face. She complimented you. Now compliment her back. Go on, say something charming, idiota.

“Dancing!” he half-shouts, making you jump. You fucking fool. “I…I mean I learned how…how to be graceful from dancing. Ballet. In my youth.”

You’re making an impressed face now which is worlds better from the look of terror you previously wore when he barked at you like a senile chihuahua.

“The Cardinal is a dancer?” you murmur, eyes glittering, “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“Oh, it’s been years,” he blushes, “this old body doesn’t move the way it used to.”

He swears he sees your eyes flick up and down his form and a tiny smirk lift your lips.

“I don’t buy that for a second, Cardinal.”

Are you flirting with him? You turn to busy herself with organizing your folders but Copia can see the pink tinge at the tips of your ears.

“Do you like bolognese?” he says, once again loud and blunt.

“I…what?”

“My…my fratelli and I - the Papas that is - would very much like to meet you. A-and share a meal with you. If you are interested?”

Your mouth forms a little “o”.

“There’s more than one Papa?” you ask, cocking your head.

“Sì, sì, there is also eh, Papa Emeritus I and Papa Emeritus II, known as Primo and Secondo, respectively. Terzo you already know,” he grumbles, and your lips twitch.

“Three Satanic popes and a Cardinal. Wow…life sure comes at you fast, huh? Never expected this from a job offer.”

“So…is that a yes?”

“No,” you say and Copia’s face falls, “I mean - shit - sorry! A no about the bolognese. I don’t eat red meat. But a definite yes for the dinner, I’d love to meet some more people here! You’re very kind to have invited me.”

“Ah,” he waves his hand dismissively, but a smile still curls his lips, “We don’t get pretty new faces around here very often. It would be our pleasure.”

It doesn’t dawn on him what he said until he sees your lips silently form the damning word and your cheeks light up. Shit, why couldn’t he be normal around you?

“Anyway,” he says, his voice going up a humiliating octave, “would you be available this week? Friday evening, perhaps?”

“It’s a date. I mean–” you look as panicked as he feels at your wording, “--a dinner date. W-with your…with the Papas. And yourself. Sorry, where should I meet you? I’m uh, still familiarizing myself with the abbey. This place is huge.”

“Eh, how about I meet you at your office and I’ll lead the way from there, sì?”

“Sì. I mean, yes. Is there a…should I dress a certain way?”

An image is conjured in his mind of you in a pretty cocktail dress, heels lifting your shapely calves and your decolletage on display—

He shakes his head to rid himself of the vision.

“Uh…dress in whatever is most comfortable. Undoubtedly Secondo will put you to work in the kitchen so–”

“Oh good,” you say, “I mean my culinary talents are uh…definitely lacking but I’d be happy to help and keep busy. Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, and all that. Well…something like that anyway, I’m not sure if there’s a Satanic version. Anyway I am definitely blabbering on so feel free to ignore…literally everything that just came out of my mouth.”

You’re embarrassed. As if he couldn’t listen to you talk and talk and talk for eternity. He’s about to tell you something to that effect before his brain yanks him away. Bit much for only knowing her a month, fool. Instead he gives you a friendly nod, and bows slightly.

“I’ll eh, see you Friday then yes? At 6:00?”

“Sounds perfect. And…thank you. I don’t remember if I said it or not but thank you for making this place feel like home.”

He feels as if his heart is about to burst from his ribcage.

“Signorina,” he murmurs, “it is my honor. Ciao.”

“Ciao, Cardinal,” you say softly as he turns and exits your office. He doesn’t see the way you collapse into your desk chair with a dreamy sigh.

—

You’re going to be late.

As soon as your work day ended you hustled up to your apartment and began getting ready but it’s now 5:41 and you still have no idea what the fuck you’re going to wear. Half your wardrobe lies scattered on your bedroom floor (you know it’s going to make you insane when you return later that night but fuck you can’t remember what clothes you even own) as you stand in the center of the room in your underwear.

“Okay. Okay you’re going to meet three Satanic popes,” the sentence has a delirious laugh bubbling out of your throat. “Three Satanic popes and one…sweet…handsome…Cardinal. What is the correct choice.”

You eye a snug, knee length burgundy velvet cocktail dress to your left. You’ve been saving this one for a while - for a real special occasion. You would undoubtedly impress but…nah. Too much. To your right is a pair of mom jeans - you pick them up and give them a tentative sniff - acceptably clean. You toss the jeans onto your bed behind you. Okay now for a top. How about…ah! You spy a soft, dark green sweater in a pile and snatch it up. Cozy, comfortable, and practical. Perfect. As for shoes…your well-loved black Chelsea boots should do the trick. You look down at your watch.

5:48

Shit! Almost tripping more than once you jump into your jeans and pull the sweater over your head, tucking it halfway into your waistband. You don’t have the time or the patience to put any makeup on beyond a few swipes of mascara and a dark red lipstick and when you make it out the door with your phone and keys, it’s five to six. You briskly power walk the entire trip to your office and by the time you’re standing outside the door, you’re clutching your side and heaving for breath. You pray to whoever is listening that the Cardinal is a little late so you have a chance to compose yourself but before you can even form the thought–

“Signorina?”

You spin on the spot, trying to look as casual as possible.

“Cardinal!” you rasp. “Uh…hi.”

“You look lovely,” he says with an anxious little smile that gives you butterflies, “you’re glowing, signorina.”

“Thanks, it’s the sweat.”

You ought to be taken out back and shot like Old Yeller.

To your immense relief, he doesn’t look disgusted but instead seems to relax as if your odd faux-pas cuts the tension. Chortling, he gestures for you to follow him with a gloved hand.

“What’s for dinner?” you ask, as the two of you proceed down the hall.

“You’ll have to ask Secondo that, I have no idea what the maestro has planned for us this evening.”

“Sounds ominous,” you smile.

“Eh, sì. He is.”

Oh God.

“Your week has gone well?” Copia asks, adeptly changing the subject.

“Yes, just you know. Trying to make sense of everything von Schreck left me with. Can’t help but feel his presence looming over me whenever I change something he did. Did you know him well?”

“Not well, no. He was a quiet man, kept to himself. His eh, mind started to go, in the end. Became paranoid.”

“Ah. Explains his cataloging system then. If you can call it that.”

You realize you’re now in a wing of the abbey you’ve never seen before - a long hallway with a dark red rug running the length of it and arched doors. Copia stops at one that is open and gestures inside with a nervous smile.

It’s a kitchen. A very large, very well equipped kitchen with a massive island and high ceilings. There are three men standing inside it - you recognize one of them and the other two are staring in your direction. The tallest (and from what you can tell, the oldest) has a soft smile on his face. The other is also tall but broad where the older figure was slim, the overhead light glinting off his bald head. Terzo hops down off the counter, swirling a glass of wine and grinning. You’re suddenly aware of four pairs of the same mismatched eyes boring into you.

“Uh. Hi.”

The three Papas are on you like flies on honey in a snap, pulling you into the warmth of the kitchen while Copia removes his black biretta and wrings his gloved hands. With a shaky voice he introduces you to the two you are unfamiliar with and to Terzo he simply gives a hard stare.

“It’s an honor to meet all of you,” you murmur, smiling around the room, “Wow, three Satanic popes. I haven’t even met one uh…regular pope. Not to say you aren’t ‘regular’ or ‘normal’, of course. The Satanic versions are so much more interesting.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Do you drink?” the bald, mustachioed one - Secondo - asks.

“Please,” you sigh in relief. He gestures you over to the counter.

“What do you know about Italian wines, piccolina?”

Piccolina? You remind yourself to look that up whenever you manage to take a bathroom break.

“Uh, not much. That is to say…nothing.”

He smirks. You know immediately this man is a heartbreaker.

“I will teach you. This riserva is from the Ministry’s vineyards in Piedmont. Made from Nebbiolo grapes.” He pours you a generous glass which you swirl delicately in your hand before leaning in to sniff.

“Oh! I’m definitely getting…red fruits, perhaps cherries? Something mineral, like the way a damp cave smells. Hold on–”

You take a sip as Secondo watches you carefully.

“Wow that’s gorgeous,” you gush, “I didn’t smell the rose element but I definitely taste it. You said the Ministry made this?”

“Sì,” he nods, as he pours more into your glass, “I’m pleased you like it, you have excellent taste.”

“Oh, I really don’t,” you smile, “you’d cringe if I told you some of the swill I find acceptable. Particularly what I drank in college.”

He laughs loudly.

“What kind of self-respecting American college student drinks wine?”

“One from California, that’s what,” you smirk.

“Secondo stop hogging our guest,” Terzo calls from the other side of the room. “I want to see her pretty face.”

Secondo ushers you over to the small breakfast table where Copia sits with the other two Papas before leaving to fetch several wine glasses.

“Don’t you look bellissima tonight,” Terzo grins, and you blush as he gives you a very obvious once-over. That smile disappears though when he jerks violently, slamming his knee up under the table.

“Stronzino, that hurt,” he hisses at Copia, who has carefully schooled his face into a neutral expression.

Huh. Wonder what that was all about.

You’re distracted by Primo softly saying your name and you turn to the older man with a smile.

“Are you enjoying life at the abbey so far?”

Ah. Well about that. You want to lie - to tell him everything has been smooth sailing but something about the way he looks at you instantly makes you want to be more candid.

“It’s um. It’s been…a lot,” you say, looking down into your wine glass, “The Cardinal is really the only one who speaks to me outside of Sister Imperator. I-I haven’t got out of my apartment much except to go to work. I’m a little self-conscious about exploring, to be honest.”

Primo gives you a gentle smile.

“Do you know where the greenhouses are, fiore mio?”

Fiore mio. Another one for the list.

“I think I know where the gardens are but I’m not sure if they’re nearby–”

“They are.” he says, “Sister Imperator…doesn’t have much use for an old relic like me. I spend my time tending to all that grows here. With some assistance from my ghouls.”

“Ghouls?” you ask, cocking your head.

He smiles.

“Ah, you haven’t met any yet, have you? Well I won’t spoil the surprise. I’m sure the Cardinal would love to tell you about them some time. Anyway, all this to say…please come visit me when you have the opportunity, sì? Ah, that reminds me,” he gets up and walks through an adjacent doorway to what you assume is the dining room. When he returns, he’s bearing a bouquet of vibrant pink dahlias in a glass vase.

“Oh!” you say, setting down your wine glass as Primo places the flowers on the table in front of you.

“For you, cara. To welcome you.”

You’re squeezing the meat of your thigh as hard as you can under the table to keep from crying but the tears well up in your eyes all the same.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he reaches out to take your hand into his long, wizened one.

“Cazzo, are you making her cry, you old fuck?” Terzo grouses.

“Terzo!” Copia says with a sharpness you’ve never heard from him before. You’re not sure if it’s the wine but you’re definitely picking up on some tense vibes between the two of them.

“Uh, need help with dinner, Secondo?” you ask, trying to cut the awkwardness.

“Most of it is already finished but you are welcome to assist with the antipasti. Forgive the lack of aperitivo but someone forgot to pick up olives today.”

Secondo glares across the room at Copia, who turns beet red.

“That’s okay, I don’t like olives anyway,” you say cheerily. Primo groans.

“Ugh! Philistine!” Secondo snaps, making a sharp gesture, “Get over here and atone for your sins before I kick you out of my kitchen, piccolina.”

Now your face is red.

“Yes, Papa,” you murmur obediently as you rise from the table, missing the way the four men look at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Va bene,” Secondo says gruffly as you approach the island, leaning over to pour more wine in your glass, “Do you know how to toast bread?”

You give him a look.

“I think I can handle toast,” you scoff, setting down your glass. “Are we making bruschetta?”

He favors you with a nod and a half-smile. A point in your favor.

“Here is the olive oil,” he says, gesturing to his left, “here is the balsamic. I have already diced the tomatoes and here,” he turns and opens the large refrigerator, coming back with a healthy amount of burrata, “is the cheese. Think you got it?”

“I…think so? Wait, do you have a grill for me to use or…”

He hands you a square metal pan with holes perforated in it.

“You’ve used a brustolina before?”

No, you have not used a brustolina before.

“How hard can it be? Don’t worry about me, please go sit down.”

He gives you one last sideway glance before snagging his wine glass off the table and joining his brothers.

Ten minutes later, Terzo is standing on the breakfast table waving a rag in front of the aggressively beeping smoke detector as Copia looks as mortified as you feel.

“It’s alright, fiore mio,” Primo soothes as you sniffle, staring at the charred remains of what used to be several slices of sourdough bread.

“It’s toast. I cannot believe I actually fucked up toast.”

Copia scurries to your side and Primo steps away to make room. When your head thunks heavy against his shoulder he wraps an arm around you, making soothing noises.

You don’t see Terzo thrusting violently into the air with a wide grin on his face, still standing on the table but you do see Secondo yank him down when he lets out an undignified squawk. The noise has you choking out a laugh, and you turn to Copia to see him staring down at you with a painfully soft expression.

“It’s nothing, piccolina,” Secondo says, unhanding his brother, “We didn’t need bruschetta anyway. Prometto. The real star is coming soon. Please–” he picks up your wine glass and gives you yet another generous pour, “--go take a seat. Enjoy the company of the Cardinal, and Primo, and my other idiot brother.”

You nod, accepting your glass.

“Sorry,” you murmur, and you feel Copia’s hand rub warm circles on the small of your back. You’d be willing to burn all the toast in the abbey if this is what you got out of it.

“It’s nothing, signorina, truly,” he says quietly in your ear, leading you back over to the table. Secondo efficiently dumps the cremated bread into the garbage and puts an apron over his head which reads “Osculari Coquum.”

By the time Secondo tells the four of you to take your seats in the dining room you are…pleasantly tipsy and incredibly hungry. The smells coming from the kitchen are so decadent, you can feel yourself salivating.

“Here we are,” Secondo says, entering the room with a loaded plate, which he places in front of you, “Pollo alla cacciatora con riso.”

You have to sit on your hands to keep from rudely digging in before the others have been delivered their meals but as soon as Secondo sits down, you’re ready to strike. Before you can, Primo speaks up.

“I would like to toast our lovely new friend. To your health and happiness. May you find a home here amongst us. Benvenuta nostra sorella. Ave Sathanas.”

Sorella. The word sounds familiar, as if you’ve heard it in the abbey halls before. It makes a warmth bloom in your chest that you’re certain cannot be attributed solely to the wine.

“Grazie mille,” you murmur with a smile. “Thank you all for having me this evening, I appreciate it more than you know.”

Copia’s hand, resting next to yours on the table, twitches and ever-so-slightly his gloved pinkie finger brushes against yours. You look at him out of the corner of your eye but he’s staring diligently down at his plate, mustache twitching as he fights to smile. The sight makes your heart thud in your chest. It’s as if the two of you are in your own little world, oblivious to everyone else despite the fact that neither of you openly acknowledge the other. It’s a breathtaking feeling and you wish you could put your finger on what is so special about this peculiar man.

“Bella, if you don’t eat that I’m going to eat it for you.”

Terzo is staring at you from across the table, mouth full of chicken cacciatore. The whole room, in fact, is staring at you.

“Shit! Right! Sorry I was…I don’t know where I was. Hmm.”

The four men once again exchange a look as you politely dig into your chicken and rice. It’s divine, as you knew it would be. The conversation flows wonderfully, the Papas all eagerly explaining the Ghost project to you.

“So you are all part of the same band?”

“We each had our terms,” Primo explains, “I was the first, Secondo was second, and now Terzo is the third.”

Your brow furrows as you mouth their names and something clicks.

“I’m sorry, you’re all brothers and you’re named first, second, and third? Who does that to their kids?”

Copia snorts into his glass at your candidness.

“Our idiot father, that’s who,” Primo says, and you’re shocked at his venomous tone, “You’ve met Papa Nihil, have you not?”

Oh. You’ve met Papa Nihil alright.

“Ah…yes. Yes, we’ve met. I don’t think he cares much for me.”

Terzo laughs.

“We all have that in common, bella mia! Consider it a badge of honor.”

You don’t quite know what to say to that and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

“So,” Secondo begins, “you must listen to each of our albums and tell us which one you like best, sì?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m qualified to properly judge that sort of thing–”

“We insist,” Terzo says imperiously, “I want nothing less than an album ranking and your overall top five songs. Cardinal, see to it that she gets educated.”

“I don’t see how this is my area of expertise,” Copia says sullenly, stabbing at what remains of his chicken. “It’s not my band.”

Hmm. Another frisson of tension.

Interesting.

“If everyone is done with their meal, shall we move back into the kitchen for dessert? Piccolina, how do you feel about gelato?”

Your cheeks redden at the moan that escapes your mouth. Copia coughs sharply at your side, having turned red himself.

“What’s your favorite flavor, bella mia?” Terzo asks, rising from the table as you do.

“Stracciatella, definitely, but I will never say no to chocolate.”

“Ah! A woman after my own heart! Copia do you hear this? She likes stracciatella.”

The Cardinal remains seated, nodding distractedly. As you exit the room you see Primo move closer to him and put a hand on his back, leaning in to speak quietly.

—

“Oh topolino…she’s just as lovely as you said. Kind, smart, beautiful. Burns bruschetta but eh, no one is perfect.” Primo smiles as Copia looks up at him in earnest.

“Papa…I really like her.”

It’s the first time he’s voiced his feelings out loud and he can feel the flush on his cheeks creeping down his chest.

“I know, ragazzo mio. And you know what? I think she really likes you too.”

Copia’s heart skips a beat.

“Really? You think so? I-I want to do something nice for her, something she deserves but I’m not sure–”

“Spend time with her,” Primo says, smiling, “She is very lonely. Continue to be the friend you have been thus far - that’s what she deserves.”

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” Copia murmurs, “Surely she’ll tire of me or–”

“Surely nothing of the sort,” Primo says firmly. “If she cares for you as I suspect she does, she will welcome you into her heart. All parts of you, not just the best ones. You’ll see, topolino. Prometto.”

“Grazie,” Copia whispers as Primo places a kiss on his forehead.

“Hey you two what flavor–oh, I’m sorry, I’m interrupting something.”

You move to exit the room but Copia stands abruptly.

“No, please. Stay.”

You smile. If only he knew now how you’d take that request to heart.

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

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