#ghost reader insert

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Could I please request headcanons of the Papas meeting their S/O's very religious family for the first time, only for the family to be hostile and constantly made snide remarks about the Papas position in the Church/try to argue theology with them?

I swear I wrote something like this before, but I can’t find it so I can’t link it! But I’m still gonna answer this, just sorry if I’ve done it already! Lol!

This is also unlocking one of my favorite Papa I headcanons, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did getting to write it!

Also proof reading; I’m sorry if this misses the mark. I got carried away with thinking of different scenarios to put reader in!

Notes:

-Written with younger Nihil in mind, but reader’s choice.

-GN Reader

-Reader implied to have one or both parents/parental figures, some grandparents, and siblings. Each is different and can be swapped out per reader preference.

(Trigger warnings: emotional abusive families, unhealthy relationships with family, religious trauma for the reader.)

Papas Meeting Their S/O’s Heavily Religious Families

Papa Nihil: Your Papa never understood why you kept in contact with your toxic family. They constantly belittled you and tried to convince you to abandon your place at the clergy. You admitted that despite the nasty things they said about your faith, you still loved them. They were your family and you didn’t have the heart to completely abandon them over it. Nihil despises them but can’t force you to cut contact, so he remained supportive. One day you did get an invitation to come home as a peace offering. Nihil was suspicious but agreed that you should go. Primarily because he didn’t trust your family and didn’t want to leave you alone with them… but wait, they willingly invited him too? Shit. Now he was REALLY SUSPICIOUS! But you asked him to go with your puppy dog eyes, and he couldn’t say no.

This would be the first time he’s met them and he wasn’t going to let you down. So he reluctantly agreed to come home with you. Nihil grabbed a fine bottle of wine and a dish he had his personal ghoul made. Despite being very grumpy at having to go, your Papa was polite and charming as he could be. It lasted about ten minutes getting into the door. Because, unfortunately, your grand father was there. Your grandpa was one of those super traditional, old school types who thought everyone should bow to him as head of the household. Your grandpa didn’t even let you sit before he was criticizing your beloved. Citing him as being rude for imaginary slights, and that he would expect nothing less from a demon worshipper.

Nihil wasn’t having any of it. “Actually, I should be at the head of the table: I outrank all of you where I came from.” Your lover smirked. Then all Hell broke loose. It went from your Grandpa shouting about sin, to your mother crying for him to calm down, and then Nihil laughing in everyone’s face. You both didn’t make it an hour before you were being pushed out of the house and told to never come back. Nihil’s only regret was seeing you cry, because he knows how badly you wanted to be accepted. But he decided to take you out to dinner, instead.

Papa I: Quite frankly, your family had picked the absolute worst person to ever have a theological debate with. Papa I isn’t just a dedicated anti pope; Theology is his passion and special interest! He does nothing but study various religions, INCLUDING every single denomination of his dreaded nemesis. So you knew the day Papa met your family they would be humbled VERY quickly. Actually, you couldn’t wait to see it if you were being honest.

Your family had been pestering you for ages to come home and visit. They hated where you ran off to, but insisted they still loved you and just wanted you to come see them. God would always forgive you, right? You agreed only if you could bring Papa. With a lot of reluctance they did agree. Papa was happy to accept thinking it was your way of reconnecting with your family. He knew the stories but was willing to play nice for your sake…. Yet he was intrigued as to why you were so giddy the trip to your childhood home.

Aside from a lot of passive aggressive comments towards him (which he ignored), the family had been well behaved. It’s not until dinner that your uncle decided to have a ‘good faith’ argument ‘for fun’ with Papa’s and yours beliefs. Papa was calm at first until your uncle started preaching. You sat back with a small smile as Papa dressed the man down. Papa not only contradicted all of your uncle’s arguments with actual Bible verses, but Papa even showed he knew more about his faith than anyone could have guessed. Your family was stunned and dinner was finished in silence. Papa thanked them for a lovely time and you never fought with your family again… they were too scared for it.

Papa II: If it wasn’t for the fact that Papa genuinely cared about you he would have never agreed to this. Papa openly despises your family after hearing stories of how they treated you. You had to literally beg him to meet them just once. One dinner to meet him so they would stop hounding you about your mysterious partner and the “crazy cult you joined.” All you wanted was this one dinner so you could go back to ignoring them for the rest of the year… until Christmas, at least. You’re very lucky Papa has committed to you enough to agree. The compromise is that HE chose where to meet the family.

This is how your family got invited to one of the most prestigious Italian Restaurants in the city. Not Papa’s cherished favorite, mind you. But good enough that it cost a pretty penny. Your parents and sister didn’t seem to mind ‘dirty Satanist money’ when it got them the finest dishes in the world. Plus, it was neutral ground. so Papa was a touch more relaxed than he would have been otherwise. Even after thanking Papa, your family seemed like they couldn’t wait to be incredibly rude to him. You pushed your risotto around your plate and kept your head down as your mom kept asking questions. The kind that were thinly veiled passive aggressiveness under a sweet tone. Papa sipped his wine and answered non committaly to questions about his faith, his role in the ministry, how much he made, what made him part of the congregation…

Papa was a classy man, so one worded and cool answers kept him from being snarky. ‘Lucifer. Anti Pope. more than jesus. Birth right.’ Your mother seemed to sour more and more at his answers, and your sister sneered in barely concealed disgust. But the line was finally crossed when your mom whole heartedly smiled at Papa. “It’s never too late to be saved by Jesus. You know you both could always come home, receive forgiveness, and stop living in sin.” Papa set down his wine. “And you could stop giving tidings to a Mega Church where your pastor has a criminal record.” Your family’s stunned face was enough to make you almost choke on your food. Needless to say, you’ve never seen the three of them run out on a bill so fast after that. But you did thank Papa for being nice. After all, you know the man could have done so much worse.

Papa III: To his credit, Papa wanted to be absolutely gracious and was happy to put aside religion if it meant keeping peace with your family. He knew it was important to you to just have your family on good terms. Even if that meant a healthy arms length away from him. So he was prepared to not speak of his faith and be his cordial and charming self. Anything to make future contact easier for you! Despite your rocky differences, he knew you and your family were incredibly close.

Papa had agreed to let your family come over for dinner to help mend the bridge. He was happy to host! You didn’t think they would ever agree, but you always gave small invitations. Your family declined every single one. Until one day you decided to try again for Easter… and they accepted?? Your were a bit panicked, but Papa was ecstatic! He wanted them to like him and possibly be more communicative with you! Maybe even visit more! He had his fill of extremists in the past, so he wasn’t expecting a miracle. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be as disrespected in his own home as he was that day.

Papa had the kitchens prepare the nicest Easter brunch in the gardens. No Jesus, but plenty of bunnies and plastic eggs for your baby cousins. Your family (and extended family) pretty much all ignored every greeting he tried to make. They didn’t acknowledge Papa and instead decided to nit-pick you, the abbey, and even the siblings serving you. Papa had gritted teeth the whole day. Trying to be level headed and supportive. but when they told him they didn’t want him saying ‘grace’ at the meal did Papa finally react. “You come into MY HOME, on YOUR HOLIDAY that we accommodated for YOU, and you treat me and my home like GARBAGE?” When your mom pointed out he was a Satanist anyway Papa yelled, “GET THE FUCK OUT!!” Papa called them everything from hypocrite to their faith to disgraces. You were happy to see all of them run out with their tails tucked between their legs. Papa never invited your family to anything ever again.

Papa IV/Copia: Copia meeting your family had been entirely by accident! You were little to no contact with them and intended to keep your partner and life AWAY from them! Yet fate had other plans. You had attended the last of the tour shows with the band and one of the destinations had been your hometown. Copia always knew you hated traveling back there. Originally he had asked if you wanted to skip over the city and take a mini break away from the crew. Happy to let you go off on your own solo trip and just reconnect with the tour after this particular show. But you vehemently were against leaving and assured him the chances of your family being around a ritual was one in a million… until you saw your entire family protesting outside of the venue. (Swiss told you to buy a lottery ticket with your odds after you picked your jaw off of the ground.)

You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. They must have stayed out for hours to yell at the band’s tour bus. The only reason you were even out there was to wrangle some of the ghouls from screwing with some of the protesters. That’s when you saw your siblings and cousins in the midst of the signs. When one of them recognized you Hell broke loose. Your brother, a proud pastor, called you out by name. Copia had come to grab you and heard it. “Beloved, is that… your brother?” You begged Copia to just go back into the bus with you. Normally, he’s a more passive man in tense events and likes to handle issues more calmly. But when your brother, sister in law, and even cousins started shouting biblical insults at you he snapped.

Very calmly Copia strolled over to your brother and met him eye to eye. You knew that Copia being calm meant he was absolutely livid. Your brother went from being belligerent to gulping at the blazing white eye of your lover. Copia recited word for word all the passages he knew about not being above God and judging your neighbor. Every time your brother tried to respond, Copia spoke over him louder and louder until he was practically shouting verses. Soon all the protestors were staring in horror until all were muttering and quiet. Copia just scoffed at your brother before turning to you. “What a terrible child of God you are. Pathetic.” You felt on top of the world when Copia guided you away, leaving behind a stunned and silent brother.

[kissmyspaceace]

The Lost and the Lascivious

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader Warnings/Contents: Mild gore, Reader being followed/threatened, Cardi C being worried sick Word count: 4.074

AO3 Link

Tag list: @chaos-in-person @littlemisscare-all @dancerpanda04 @ballofthedeadrat @skittytreats @mschfmusings @verowo8rocks

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Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your thoughts were racing as you tried to get away from whoever was behind you. Judging by their frame, it was clearly a man. The glimpses you caught of them were barely telling you anything other than that they were wearing a basecap and a hood over their head, making it difficult to see their face.

You knew you would never be able to outrun them at this point. Your stomach was twisting at the thought of what they might do to you. I can’t let it get this far.

Headed towards dead ends and running in circles in a desperate attempt to get rid of the person chasing you, you started to feel hopeless. Cornered. Alone.

Then, you remembered the Cardinal’s words, as the necklace around your neck made a gentle clincing sound.

“If anything should be the matter, no matter where you are, you can use this”

Your hand wandered towards your pocket.

“You will know if you need it, when you need it”

You could hear your chaser’s heavy breathing at this point. The piece of parchment seemed to glide into your palm all on its own, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Since you’d been straight up running at this point, you were pretty out of breath. As you read the words, it was a mere desperate whisper in between panting. Not worried at all about butchering the lines of Latin text, you clutched the pendant of your necklace tightly as the last syllables rolled over your tongue.

You kept running for a few more steps until a gust of wind carried a soothing voice towards you, which made you stop in your tracks.

I hear you, child. Fear not, for I am here for you.

You turn around, sensing an eerie presence behind you. Accumulating out of the shadows, a group of humanoid figures appeared in front of the person that had been chasing you. He seemed to be frozen on the spot, unable to keep moving. The humanoid figures were dressed in black, wearing silver masks with horns. Their hands were black, just like every other spot of visible skin, and sported long, claw-like nails. A cloud of black smoke seemed to be surrounding them, making their silhouettes a bit fuzzy, but you were pretty sure you were able to make out black pointed tails at their backsides.

They were accompanied by whispers and growls that would have sent shivers down anyone’s spine. Oddly enough, you did not feel threatened. The text Cardinal Copia had given you must have been some sort of summoning spell.

From that point on, everything happened fast. The man tried to get away, however, two more creatures teleported right behind him, forcing him to stop. They slowly circled him, making escape impossible. He was cursing and shouting, but you were barely able to understand anything he was saying. He had a knife in his hand, which he attempted to use as a last resort.

However, one of the creatures quickly grabbed his elbow and made it bend beyond its natural capacity, essentially breaking his arm. He screamed in pain and dropped the knife, holding onto his messed up arm as the creatures kept getting closer, engulfing him in dark, smoky shadows.

Between sounds of ripping clothes, breaking bones and gurgling screams, you could only see speckles of blood flying. The creatures were in motion, ripping and clawing and shredding and feeding. You weren’t able to see too much, which was probably for the best. However, you weren’t able to move either, as you stood there watching, horrified. After a few minutes, the creatures calmed down, the dark smoke cleared up.

There was nothing left. Nothing, except for a small pool of blood on the ground, slowly sinking into the soil. A small wind carried the metallic smell towards your nose, and you gagged a little. The creatures turned around and started moving towards you calmly.

Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards.Whatever you had just witnessed, it had clearly erased an entire human being from existence. And you couldn’t tell if those creatures were intended for blind slaughter, or if they could distinguish who had called them.

Your heart threatened to burst out of your chest at this point. You knew you couldn’t outrun them. You saw what it would lead to. There was no way of escaping anyways, so you just had to wait and see.

They stopped a few feet in front of you, most of them towering over you in height, their tails flicking from side to side.

One of them cocked his head from side to side, watching you closely. He extended his hand and the claw of his index finger gently poked at the pendant of your necklace. A friendly hum escaped their throat, and a wide smile exposed a set of blood stained, sharp teeth.

“Mmmmistress”, they growled, “You called out to us, and we responded. And just in time, no less.”

Their voice appeared male, as did their mask and body shape. It sounded unnaturally deep and raspy. Inhuman.

“...Who… who are you?”, you whispered. Your lips were trembling, as was your entire body. Your legs felt like they were going to give in at any moment.

“It does not matter. We are nobody. We are here at the Cardinal’s service, as well as yours now”, another of the creatures responded.

“Are you going to…hurt me?”

“We are going to protect you”, a more feminine sounding voice responded. It came from a creature in the back. They had a female frame, and a silver mask to match. “And we will bring you home and stay until you dismiss us.”

You slowly nodded, still in shock.

“You look weak”, the tallest of the group said, “You will not walk.”

Before you could protest, they lifted you up bridal style.

“Let us go.”

_ _ _

The creatures carried you home, all the way up into your apartment. You were glad you didn’t meet any neighbours at this time of night.

The creature carrying you gently set you down on your bed, while another one swiftly took off your shoes for you.

“You have to rest now”, they said. “We will stand guard outside and by your door.”

They all dissolved into clouds of black smoke one by one, except the one at your bed side. He tilted his head, watching you with interest. Then, he leaned down towards you, deeply and slowly inhaling your scent.

“His scent still lingers on you”, he mumbled in a deep voice, “I can not identify your pure individual essence yet.”

Your face must have turned bright red at his words.

“But it will suffice for now. I will return at another time. Rest well”, he said before bowing to you and dissolving into black smoke just like the others had before.

And with that, you were left alone. The adrenaline in your system slowly faded after a while, allowing you to fall asleep as you were.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself back at the church. Another night, another meeting of souls. However, you assumed that this time the Cardinal had much more of a reason to call out to you. Had the creatures told him about what happened? Or did he just know?

This time, you had been lying on one of the benches. Slowly, you sat up, looking around. You decided to get up and look for the Cardinal, the wooden church bench making a creaking sound, announcing your movement. It didn’t take too long, as you heard fast paced footsteps approaching from beyond a door.

The door from downstairs flung open, revealing a mildly disheveled Cardinal Copia. His panicked gaze found yours, instantly softening at the sight of you. He ran towards you, nearly tackling you to the ground as his body collided with yours, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“Cara, tesoro, amore. Are you alright? Are you unharmed?”, he asked shakily. “Please tell me your soul will have a body to return to. Please tell me this isn’t our last goodbye. Please tell me I will be able to see you again in flesh and blood, alive and well. Please.”

The words spilled out of his mouth so fast, you were unsure if he was muttering them to himself or if he was actually speaking to you.

“Cardinal”, you said calmly, making him flinch, “I am well. Safely tucked away at home.”

You felt him relax at once. So much so, that he dropped to the ground, taking you with him. The two of you were both half sitting, half kneeling on the ground, bodies pressed against one another. Cardinal Copia held you tight, steadily breathing in your scent.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“What do you know, Cardinal? What happened?”, you asked.

“Not much. I felt you use the paper I had given you, I felt there was a struggle, a sense of doom. The stench of blood. But I didn’t know much more.”

“Who are these creatures?”, you asked. “They appeared when I read the words from that piece of paper. They…”

Your voice faded as images from the encounter popped into your mind. The blood, the screams. It sent shivers down your spine.

“They are ghouls, child. Hell spawns at our service. They can be anything you need them to be, anywhere you need them to be. But please, tell me… what happened?”

It took you a few seconds to find your words again. “I was walking home, through the park. I noticed someone behind me. He was following me. He had a knife. Next thing I knew, I was running. He was running. I felt this instinct-like impulse to use the piece of paper you had given me. I knew I had to, somehow”, you explained, “Just as you said I would.”

He nodded slowly. “I assume you saw things that disturbed you. If I estimate the ghouls correctly, they made short process.”

“Yes… they… I believe they tore him to shreds. Luckily, I only heard the sounds for the most part. There was blood. It happened so fast… I-”, you stuttered, your last words fading into a whisper.

“Hush, hush. It’s alright. You are safe now. If this behaviour is what he was making out of his life, perhaps he didn’t deserve to live at all”, the Cardinal spoke, gently stroking your head.

“He was a person”, you whispered.

“He was a monster”, the Cardinal responded dryly. 

“How is his family going to bury him? He is gone. There is nothing left”, you said.

“You have the greatest heart, (Y/N). You have so much empathy. You worry about a person that wanted to hurt you, or worse. They do not deserve your compassion. They are gone. That is all there is to it”, Cardinal Copia said soothingly.

You did not talk back this time. He was right. There was no point in worrying over this. He had chosen the wrong person. He had chosen the wrong path. And he had paid for it.

“I’m sorry for causing you trouble, Cardinal. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Tesoro, I am sorry I wasn’t there. There is nothing you should apologize for. I’m just glad I have given you the means to call for help”, he replied with a desperate laugh.

He loosened the embrace, only to cup your face with his hands. His mismatched irises glared holes into your soul. They were filled with sorrow, regret and sincerity. Cardinal Copia did not say a word. His lips moved as if he was about to say something, but they closed again before any sound could escape them.

His face moved closer and closer, until he gently pressed his lips on yours. A deep warmth spread inside your chest. You felt safe. Protected. Valued.

He broke the kiss and smiled at you. “I cannot wait to have you by my side again, cara.”

“Same goes for me”, you replied, “Hopefully without any incidents next time.”

“Next time”, the Cardinal said sternly, “I will not let you leave this late. I want you back here, right here, tomorrow. And you will stay the night, so bring everything you need. You hear me?”

“Yes”, you replied hesitantly, a little taken aback by his sudden change in tone.

“I want to see you again now more than ever. I want to make sure you are unharmed myself. Until then”, he said and lifted the two of you off the ground, “I hope you will be well.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked. Your vision started to feel somewhat blurry, it felt as if your surroundings were starting to dissolve.

“Time is running out, cara mia. We will have to let go for now”, he hummed, placing a kiss on your cheek.

One last look into his smiling eyes was everything you needed. You exhaled deeply and closed your eyes, resting your forehead against his chest.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself back in your bed at home. Luckily, you felt much calmer than you had before, and drifted off into sleep in next to no time.

_ _ _ _ _

Gentle sunlight awoke you from your deep sleep. The sun was seeping through your halfway closed curtains, spilling much appreciated warmth into your bedroom. You lifted yourself up and rubbed your eyes, lazily looking around. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted something, or rather, someone standing in the doorframe.

Your heart nearly skipped a beat until you realized it was just one of the creatures you had summoned - or ghouls, as the Cardinal had called them.

The male ghoul was watching you with curiosity, cocking his head from one side to another. His movement reminded you of a dog listening to a person speak, very aware and diligent.

Shyly, you lifted up your right hand and waved him hello with a smile. “Uh… good morning?”

A pleased cooing sound echoed from underneath his mask.

“Awake. Not dead. Good”, he said, “We stood guard all night. Everything is safe now.”

“Thank you”, you replied, “I believe you can go now. You, uh, are dismissed for now…?”

He bowed to you. “Thank you. If you need us, call us. You know how.”

And with that, he was gone. Now you wondered if he had been watching you the whole night…

You started your day with a nice, long shower - after yesterday, you really needed it. The warm water seemed to wash away the stench of blood, the screams of terror and agony. You started to feel clean again, internally and externally.

And for the moment, just for the moment, all seemed well.

Taking your time to get ready, you carefully picked your clothes for the day and made sure to pack everything you needed to spend the night at Cardinal Copia’s place. You felt as if you could still feel his embrace from last night’s meeting of souls on your body. You smiled at the sensation.

What was that feeling? This undeniable, warm and fulfilling sensation? 

You knew the Cardinal had a magnetic effect on you, pulling you back to the church again and again. He even had a hold on you in your dreamspace. However, the thought of you actually being in love with him came with so many doubts and struggles, so you shoved the thoughts away immediately.

What truly counted was how he made you feel. The time you spent with him. He was the fresh breeze that had come into your life, giving you a sense of belonging. You belonged with him, that much you knew for now.

After a light lunch, you started gathering all your things to finally head for the church. A familiar scent tickled your nose as you were grabbing your bag.

Right. The flowers , you thought. 

Your head spun around to catch a glimpse of the bouquet. Still as fresh as they had been on day one. At this point you were absolutely convinced they were enchanted or something.

Shaking your head with a smile, you swung your bag over your shoulder and left your apartment.

—-------

You walked down the streets to the edge of the park, headed for the church. As you reached the entrance of the park, a strange feeling spread inside of you. You shook it off, and took a step forward. He's gone, I'm safe now. There is no danger ahead.

You walked into the park and about 2 minutes walk in, you were greeted by a plastic line obstructing your path: “POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS”.

Shit. That can’t be good .

You were able to think of a detour you would be able to take to reach the church, so you decided to leave this area as quickly as possible. Turning around on your heel, you were stopped by a stern voice.

“Madam, please hold up for a moment.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Yes?”, you asked sheepishly, turning around to face the police officer approaching you.

“Sorry for disturbing you, but I would like to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure”, you said, “Did anything happen?”

You leaned over to the side a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was behind the line. Praying for your rusty acting skills to guide you through whatever was ahead of you, you tried to seem as oblivious as possible.

“I'm afraid we can’t give you much information at this point. Are you visiting this park regularly?”, he asked, shifting his weight on his left leg, his hand resting casually on his belt.

“Yes, actually. I do visit this park pretty frequently”, you replied, putting on a worried look, “I hope it’s nothing too bad?”

There is no point in lying here. Frequently visiting this park is not a crime.

The officer nodded. “I see. Did you happen to be here yesterday evening or night, by any chance?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Uh, yeah. It must have been pretty late in the evening, but I didn’t notice anything unusual.”

“Alright, Miss. I would like to show you a picture, if you don’t mind”, he said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Sure”, you began, your eyes following his hands. He unfolded the piece of paper and unveiled a missing person's poster. There was a man on it, maybe 35 years old. His face didn’t seem familiar to you. There were descriptions of his hair color, eye color, height and weight.

“Have you seen this man around here recently?”, the officer asked calmly.

“He doesn’t seem familiar to me. He's missing? Since when?”

“His family reported him missing 3 days ago, since he hadn’t returned home for a while. He is known for getting into trouble sometimes, and apparently there was a bit of trouble here yesterday, so…”, he continued, “We're trying to find witnesses.”

You nodded slowly. “His… family, you said?”

“Yup, wife and kids. I'm sure they’re worried sick.”

“This must be horrible for them to experience. I'm sorry I can't be of much help, sir”, you said, cool sweat running down the back of your neck.

The police officer shook his head.

“It's okay. Thank you for your time. If you should hear or see anything in relation to this, please let us know. Regulars in this park are a good source, usually.”

“Of course. Have a good day”, you said in a quiet voice. The officer led you past the closed off area.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a crime scene investigation team, some of them in full biohazard gear. They crouched down next to the nearly dried pool of blood, and took swaps.

If they manage to get DNA from this, and it happened to be this exact guy, they will know whose blood it was.

You couldn’t get the picture of this man out of your head. The height was roughly accurate, the frame as well, perhaps…

But it had been way too dark to properly see anything relevant for identifying him. Perhaps it wasn’t him, after all. You sped up, trying to leave this place as quickly as possible.

A few more minutes of walking later, you finally reached the courtyard of the church. Still a bit shaken up, you stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath. You didn’t want Cardinal Copia to see you like this and worry even more than he already had - you decided you shouldn’t keep him waiting much longer.

Carefully opening the door, you entered the church.

“Hello?”, you called out while gently closing the door behind you. “I'm back!”

You waited a short while, then you started scanning the church hall for any signs of a possible note he could have left you. It didn’t take you long to find one. Taped to the door leading downstairs, there was a hastily handwritten note.

“My dear,

You will find me downstairs, whenever you might arrive. I will be eagerly awaiting you.

C.”

The corners of your mouth twitched upwards. You loved these little notes he would leave for you to find. Gently pulling the note off of the wooden door, you reached for the old door handle and began your descent to the basement of the building.

When you reached his quarters, your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous all of a sudden. You tried to shake it off, as you hesitantly lifted your hand to knock on the door.

Before your knuckles could even reach the old wood of the door, however, the door swung open, revealing a pretty disheveled Cardinal Copia.

His mismatched eyes found yours in an instant, pinning you to the spot with his gaze, as he searched for answers within yours. Unsure of how to react, you smiled shyly. “Hey.”

He pulled you inside by your wrist, slamming the door shut behind you. You nearly lost balance from being pulled inside the room that suddenly, but managed to catch yourself just in time. The Cardinal cupped your face with his hands and continued to study you. He went on to look at your arms, your hands, your legs. He scanned anything he could see of you, until finally, he took a deep breath.

“Child”, he said, “Please tell me: Did he touch you?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”, he asked in an even more serious tone.

You nodded, “Yes, I am sure.”

“Good”, he stated, “Because if he had, I would have made sure to summon his rotten soul back from hell, only to kill him again myself.”

Your heart did a little jump at his words and you quietly smiled to yourself.

“I mean it”, he emphasized.

“I know”, you replied.

He cracked a smile and pulled you into a tight embrace. Holding you tightly, with one hand at the back of your head, deeply inhaling the scent of your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?”, you asked softly.

He leaned into you. “For letting you go all alone this late.”

“But you gave me the means to protect myself, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes”, he sighed, “But this shouldn’t have happened to you in the first place. I feel guilty. Guilty for the fear you must have felt, guilty for the things you had to see.”

You started rubbing his back soothingly. “Nobody is at fault for this. Things like these happen, unfortunately. People are the worst sometimes. It’s almost like, a law of nature or something. I was just unlucky enough to be at the same place at, at the same time as this guy. If it hadn’t been me, maybe it would have been someone else. Someone who maybe wouldn’t have had a group of… ghouls to call for aid.”

Cardinal Copia let out a low, rumbly sound. You could tell he wasn’t satisfied.

“I will make sure something like this will never happen again.”

The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat.

“How so? More ghouls?, you asked with a smirk.

“Let that be my problem for now”, he chuckled softly and  loosened the embrace to look at your face again, “Let us go somewhere more comfortable, no?”

You nodded with a sweet smile.

And with that, he led you into his living room.

[ghostedbunnie]

older bf!simon who is trying to keep you alive during your exam season in uni. he has to wrestle the caffeinated drink out of your hands as it makes your anxiety so much worse.

older bf!simon who has to force you to take breaks and he is not nice about it either. he'll throw you over his shoulder if he has to, doesn't matter if you hid in the library on campus, he will embody the caveman he is on the inside.

older bf!simon who helps you revise. honestly it feels more like a military drill than revision at some points, you fear he'll tell you to drop down and give him twenty when you mess up a definition, he never does but he definitely thought about it once or twice.

older bf!simon who doesn't go overboard with the praise when you succeed just a plain ol' "that's my girl." and a smooch on the side of the head is all you need to feel like you've won at life. and if it doesn't work out, he'll let you cry it out if you need to, doesn't grumble about the snot on his hoodie and then simply helps you out so you ace the next try because he hates to see you cry.

older bf!simon who was holding back on his urges the entire exam season so you can focus but once you're done with the last one he is going to town on you. i'm talking order some food for the weekend, lock the door and hold on because he is going to ravage you on any and every surface inside your home.

[fromduck]

Me with you guys simping over hot men

[uramakimochi]

me for the past week and i'm so fucking maddd

STOP👏TAGGING👏XREADER👏IF👏YOU👏USE👏AN👏OC👏NOBODY👏 FUCKING👏ASKED👏FOR👏THAT👏OKAY???

The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.

IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!

There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.

I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.

SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?

Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.

And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...

[bunny-jpeg]

packing my husband's lunch

simon "ghost" riley - inspired by this

tags: smut & fluff, domestic, established relationship (marriage), housewife!reader, butcher!simon, food, body worship & praise, missionary,

a/n: changed a little bit of it for the fic, i hope that's okay! i hope everyone loves it!!

it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, these were little videos that you made when simon was at work. people did a lot worse on the internet! you were mostly in sweet aprons with your username embroidered onto them and occasionally one of the dresses that your loving husband bought you!

you wanted to keep yourself busy now that you were a stay-at-home wife and the income from being part of the creator's program was a nice bonus.

"thank you for the banana bread recipe, mrs. riley!"

"where did you get that dress?"

"i wonder what mister riley looks like! i bet she totally lucked out!!"

you built up a sweet little community that was mostly sharing recipes that you've aquired over the years. viewers were impressed of how well you could handle spice despite your gentle demeanour, but you once said in a video that you had been eating spicy food your whole life!

"plus, my husband loves it too!" that was the big mystery of the account, who was mrs. riley's husband? viewers knew he existed and that videos occasionally were about making his lunches. but he had never showed his face in any video.

you thought the comments were cute, you'd often show them to simon while you were in his lap on the couch.

"they think that you're like christian grey."

"who the hell is that?" simon chuckled as he rested his head on top of your head so he could look down at your phone, "sounds like a real prick with a name like that."

another day, another video. you worked within the kitchen explaining the recipe. "you have to remmeber to add the spices before it all comes together or else it won't have time to mingle with the potatoes or the carrots. the taste will be all off!" you tone was like a bird's chirp as you had one hand on yourhip and the other stirring the pot with a spoon.

"my husband loves this! and i think who ever you make this for, wife, husband, boyfriend, partner, family member, friend, they'll love it too! but i suggest if you're making it for your nana that you tone down the spices a little!" you talked away as you continued to cook.

it filled the near silence in the kitchen and allowed you to keep viewers engaged!

but this video ended a little different. while you showed off finished stew in a pastel pink bowl, viewers caught the sight of him. hulking mass of man in a white t-shirt with a suspicious amount of red stained across it.

"girl, are you okay?"

"who is that?!"

"pack him a sandwich in the next video if you need help!"

"hey girlie, close your fist with your thumb inside if you're not safe!"

you were confused by the comments, simon wasn't a bad guy? he had never hurt a hair on your head. you've been trying to get him into more experimental kinky play in the bedroom!

you heard the door unlock and peeked out of the kitchen to see your husband coming home. you were use to grime he brought home, you met at the butcher shop his long time friend price owned. so a t-shirt stained with blood was nothing new. but then it clicked in your head.

oh they thought that simon was some kind of serial killer.

before you could say anything to your husband, he pulled you in for tight kiss and held you by the back of the head with his strong hand. you smiled against his lips and giggled when he picked you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders.

you weren't the lightest thing in the world, but simon had spent most of his life hauling things (meat) heavier than you could ever be. he eyed you from top to bottom and smiled. his smiles were rare to others but frequent with you.

"how's my love bug today? makin' more videos for the fans." he asked as he carried you to the couch and put you down gently. he then leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

"yeah, they think you're a serial killer though."

his blond brows raised, "serial killer?"

you looked at him in return, "you were in the back of one of my latest videos, i didn't notice anything until i realized that you were in a work shirt and it looked like you were a serial killer."

"i see, i see." he said as he sat next to you and laced your fingers with his, "tell them i'm not, i don't need rumours to start." simon didn't like being the center of attention.

he once told you that he married the brightest woman he could find so she could be the center of attention and he could be supportive from the sidelines. it was why people gravitated towards you while being a little afraid of you towering husband.

you pulled him closer to you and kissed at his scarred face. he was an active service member before he became a butcher, so much history on his body and you loved every molecule of him. when you kissed him, he deepened the kiss and held both your hands.

"simon."

"let me take you to bed." he replied softly before he pulled you to your feet and then pulled you up into his arms bridal style. it took you a while to get used to him carrying you. not that you were worried about him not having a good hold on you, but rather you not having a good hold on him!

he brought you to your shared bedroom and placed you on the bed delicately. he then got his shirt up and over his head, exposing his strong body to you. he wasn't model trimmed, he was built with proper strength.

i ain't no pretty boy, dove.

but you thought your husband was the prettiest of them all. slowly you started to take off your dress, you could feel your husband's hungry eyes on you as you undressed for him. your viewers saw a sweet little wife, bu simon saw that sweet little wife totally nude.

when the mis-matched pair of bra and panties ended up on the floor with the dress, simon felt like a new man. he worked hard to provide for your family of two and would continue to work hard every day. you were his wife, his everything. and he loved you more than he could ever articulate.

so he expressed his love by getting undressed and into bed with you. laid out on top of the covers, your head in the pillows with simon between your legs.

"look at mrs. riley." he cooed as he rubbed his rough hands up and down your bare thighs, "prettier than those little cookies you make.' he chuckled a little, "boy at work watch your videos all the time, you've been a big help to them, finally able to cook for themselves." he went in to kiss you on the lips.

"glad i could help." you replied as you held onto one of the pillows under your head. you arched your back a little when he lined his cock up with slick entrance and pressed himself in.

he leaned forward and braced a hand up against the headboard as he got his cock inside of you. the issue with a size difference like yours, it made it a little hard to have sex in certain positions. usually you were on top, but since you got married you've been able to figure out missionary.

"honey."

"i got ya, dove. you feel so good as always." he said lowly, "everything i have ya, it's a complete treat. you take good care of me, you know that. you are a good wife. happy you're making your little videos, and i'm happier i get to come home to you."

you blushed a little bit and wanted to hide your face but he stopped you by pinning your hand to the bed.

"don't hide from me, dove. i want to see my wife's face." he said with his voice tinged with affection. he loved the sight of you, you were beautiful under him, he couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of you.

"you make me blush too much." you said as he moved against you. your loving, caring husband moved his hips in a steady pace as he held onto your hand and the headboard. his thrusts were easy on you, not too rough but just enough to make you excited all over. you loved the feeling of him, there was just something about it that made you feel a twinge of excitement in your core.

he was a perfect lover and you loved him so much.

"all mine." he purred as he continued his movements. he watched your videos daily during his lunch break, happily eating the food you made for a video that morning or the day prior. the stews, baked goods and pasta dishes that you were known for.

your emphasis on couponing and how to store foods to make them last longer. it was an honour for simon to be with such a lovely woman. you encouraged food as a form of love. and you showed that love ten times over with simon.

he captured your lips and continued to move against you. he devoured the feeling of his lover up against him. you felt amazing, you felt like heaven. he couldn't help himself. he moved against you and continued to kiss you.

"work so hard every day, you work your ass off beautiful. and i love it, all of you. you know that. i can't get enough of you, how you feel against me. how i feel like our souls are connected."

you giggled, "no need to butter me up, handsome." you smiled when he placed another kiss on your lips. you moaned into the kiss, you eventually held onto his strong shoulders. you two moved against each other, husband and wife. quite the pair you were, and simon wouldn't want it any other way.

"baby." he cooed.

"shh, shh." you said, you opened your eyes and stared into his brown ones, he was so handsome. even when he tried to deny it, you knew the truth. he was quite the handsome man. the kind of man that made your toes curl with each hardy thrust of his hips.

the pleasure ran through both of you, the intensity of it made you kiss one another once more. he continued to work himself inside of you. live in each of this thrusts, affection in every movement. simon loved you and you loved him, hence why you held onto him so closely.

"oh, dove. look at ya. perfect for your husband." he cooed as he felt closer to his climax, it was an intense feeling. the kind of feeling that excited him greatly. he loved you and when he watched your pleasure reach its peak, he felt a swell of pride when you clutched onto him tighter.

"fuck, honey." you moaned as pleasure crushed down on you. you tensed up then relax, enjoying the feeling as it moved through you. you shared another kiss.

simon continued to work his body up against yours, and soon he finished inside of you. he rocked against you through his climax and then only broke the kiss when he stopped. he looked you in the eyes, those beautiful brown eyes.

you giggled lightly and pulled him in once more before he laid out on the bed beside you and held you in his arms.

"not too bad for a serial killer."

"yeah, i bet they'd never know that you're such a teddy bear." you dragged a finger across his strong chest and let out a small giggle. he felt so good against you. you soon sat up and said, "i have something i want you to try, i am working on a new recipe."

before you could get too far, he pulled you back into bed with him and wrapped his arms around you. he held you close and said, "whatever it is, dove. i bet it's amazing, but right now i just wanna hold ya."

-

the following day, on one of simon's days off. you set up the camera and stood beside your much taller husband. you were all smiles as you were ready to bake a nice spring treat.

"hello, love bugs! it's mrs. riley again, and today i have a guest!" you gestured to your husband. you whispered, "you'll need to crouch down a little." and simon bent his knees, "this is my husband, mister riley!"

you hoped that this would quell any concerns your fans might have. and while the comments were positive one made you blush.

"i used to think i had a crush on mrs. riley, but now i have a crush on mr. riley too!"

i hope you love this fic! if you have any suggestions, my open! till next time <3

[mcntsee]

me when i get asked why i suddenly dislike a character (i can’t tell them it’s because i read a fanfic where said character made y/n’s life miserable and now i have personal beef with them)

[uglygirltrying]

barbarian!ghost x princess!reader | pt2 to this

princess!reader whose new life, after the wedding, was as easy as it could possibly be. she just had to sit still and look pretty. most difficult part of her new life, was her new husband. he's a hard head. a piece of work, as she liked to think. as if he could be changed.

barbarian!ghost who liked his new wife. enjoyed her, even. she's pretty, sure. but she's a good girl too. and he liked that. he liked how he needed to protect her. keep her safe and warm. fed and happy. and, he'd gladly do just that.

princess!reader whose stuff was starting to make itself home. her clothes filled the dresser. her vanity table stood against the wall. fresh vase of roses on the nightstand every morning.

her smell stuck on the pillows.

barbarian!ghost who would only trust his most loyal men to guard her. the men he trusted, not to let his wife get hurt. not get touched. the men he trusted, to always know, whose wife the princess was.

barbarian!ghost who would probably never admit how much he was actually ready to do for her.

how many men he would kill at her word, before ever asking anything in return.

how many kingdoms he would take over, just for her to wear their riches.

and how much he would sacrifice, just for her to sleep in his arms every night.

taglist: @soapisdaddy

sorry that it's so short, and barely anything. i didn't feel inspired. but i still wanted to post at least something, because it was requested🙏 if i get inspired, I'll probably rewrite in another style, not this listing thing yk

[thedovesaredying]

Imagine Alpha!Simon, much like all unmated alphas in the military, receives a scent package to help during his rut. It's a simple blanket that has been thoroughly scented by an omega and while normally it doesn't really work for him, this newest blanket smells simply divine. He's salivating and panting the moment the sealed plastic bag is opened and the scent is released, but rather than calming his frazzled alpha, it only makes him desperate to track down the omega it belongs to.

It's almost laughably easy to find out which centre the blanket was distributed from, and from there he only needs to stake out the area for a few days until you to make an appearance. What should have been a simple, anonymous job to earn a bit of cash on the side is turned completely on its head the moment you try to leave.

Simon's here to claim what belongs to him, and he isn't the kind of alpha who likes to share with the rest of the world.

[v1x3n]

[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 1

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; dom/sub elements; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Some warnings only apply to future parts!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

Simon remembers telling Price to ‘piss off with that shite’ when the latter had approached him with the brass’ announcement of granting the Lieutenant the rare permission to become the handler of an emotional support hybrid.

There aren’t many officers on base who are allowed to have one, and Simon knows why that is. In his opinion, the whole handler/hybrid deal has all the negative connotations of a toxic and borderline abusive relationship, and Simon simply doesn’t want to be part of that.

Did anyone of those fuckers ever bother to read his file? He bloody well doubts it.

He does respect the official handlers and trainers of the military K9’s on base, though. Whatever bond they share was forged and solidified in battle and goes way beyond that odd and shallow power play that happens between some officers and their so-called “pets”.

So, Simon said no to the offer, firmly and several times at that. He doesn’t care for the bloody permission, no matter how rare it is, no matter how fellow soldiers who’d caught rumour about it had blatantly stated their envy about the possibility of gaining a hybrid pet themselves. Truthfully, Simon becomes sick to his stomach whenever one of the other officers and NCO’s talk about wanting to own a pretty pleasure puppy; something dumb and docile to have fun and unwind with in their time off duty.

Fucking hell. No, Simon doesn’t want to be part of that, let alone be responsible of some freakish hybrid mutt.

Weeks pass, both thoughts and arguments about hybrids and handlers are pushed back and filed away in some nook inside Simon’s mind as he falls back into his daily grind and familiar routine; running drills, paperwork, field trainings, preparing for missions, more paperwork.

Until one fateful day in January.

The UK weather has been more terrible lately; icy rain and howling winds beating down on base while Simon was trying to keep the rookies in line at the shooting range. By the end of the day, his fatigues were drenched and clinging to his broad frame while the chill was seeping through his pale skin, settling into his bones; making his limbs heavy and turning them stiff as if he’d carried a rucksack full of boulders on his back for a week straight.

The moment Simon arrives at the front door to his flat on base, though, the hairs at the back of his neck bristle immediately. The hallway is empty, but–

Something isn’t right. He can practically sense that someone was here, perhaps even inside his place in the worst case.

Halting in his measured steps while his breathing levels out to that eerie shallowness he’s adapted to on missions, his ears perk up under his skull balaclava as he listens for any odd noises coming from inside. Unable to pick up anything unusual, Simon still chooses to rather be safe than sorry as he reaches for his pistol in the holster strapped to his right thigh.

Simon manages to open the front door without any noise before he slips inside effortlessly, living up to his name as a ghost as he stalks through his flat on high alert; checking the small storage room before sneaking down the short, dark hallway leading up to his open living room. He can bloody sense that something is different, that someone has tampered with his safe space; he can smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, sweat, and tangy cologne even through his damp balaclava.

The sight that greets him on his old, tattered couch when he eventually flips on the light switch, is unlike anything he expected and Simon’s whole body tenses, eyes widening comically as if he’s met face to face by a firing squad.

But it’s just you, a bloody dog hybrid, curled up on his couch like you belong there–which you don’t.

And Simon slowly lowers his pistol, watches your fluffy white ears appear from under your hair as they perk up before you lift your head, like pristine cotton balls popping open in the sunlight; your body uncurling and stretching slowly while you squint against the bright yellow drop-light.

“What the bloody… fuck,” Simon breathes, chest deflating with a deep sigh as he puts his pistol back into his holster, securing it once more. Dark eyes flicker around the room before he catches a large black suitcase next to what looks like a gift basket.

Simon approaches the basket the way he would a bomb threat while his vigilant eyes keep shifting towards you as if you could attack him any moment, although you’re clearly still waking up, all discombobulated and sleep-drunk.

When Simon catches a clear view at the assortment of goodies and the black folder tucked between them inside the basket, his cold heart stutters and his blood freezes in his veins. At the sight of the pale pink collar with its matching leash, the vein in his temple throbs with a mixture of fury and revulsion.

The sound of your soft, sickly-sweet voice chirping out a greeting nearly makes his wretched soul leave his body. “Hi… Hello.”

Simon takes a step back, needing a protective wall at his back and as much space between himself and you as possible as he tries to assess the situation.

“How the fuck did you get inside my flat?” Simon mutters under his breath, dark eyes widening when he realizes the thumping in his ears doesn’t match his rapid heartbeat but belongs to your fluffy white tail gently wagging against the soft leather of his couch; just as fluffy and white as your ears, like freshly made cotton candy.

“I was brought here and told to wait for my new handler,” you answer as your head tilts to the side curiously, gazing up at the large man with bright doe-eyes. “Are you Simon?”

Simon’s narrowed eyes widen instantly again at the sound of your voice uttering his name so sweetly, so... casually. It makes him sick to his stomach, and he swallows back the sour taste in his mouth as it fills with saliva.

“Who the fuck brought you ‘ere?”

He needs a name, so he knows who to beat to a pulp before he grabs the first poor bastard who crosses his path next.

“Uhm–oh!” Your small, triangle-shaped ears perk up, and the giggle you let out makes Simon grimace underneath his mask. “They had silly names for humans,” you tell him, still giggling softly to yourself before adding: “Gaz and Soap.”

Simon huffs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, it explains the “special orders” his bloody Sergeants had gotten from Price today; the reason he couldn’t attend today’s training session. And suddenly, it all clicks into place.

“You’re all wet, Simon,” you remark about his appearance; sweet voice laced with a concern so genuine that is has his spine tense and his stomach churn with aversion. “Are you not cold?”

He wants to bark at you to stop calling him by his name, to stop trying to appeal to him just because your bloody stupid nature tells you to, to stop imprinting on your so called “new handler” just because someone told you that you belong to him now. He wants you out of his flat and out of his life before anything terrible and out of his control can take root and blossom behind his ribcage.

“Get up,” he snaps at you before his thoughts can spiral any further and he almost, almost feels bad when you flinch in your seat, ducking your head submissively while your ears flatten against your head. “I’m taking you back. You’re not staying here, lass.”

“W-What?” Your face drops, your fluffy tail stops wagging; eyes glossing over as you begin to tremble and shrink on the spot. The sound of your soft whine only angers Simon more, because it tugs on his heartstring, makes his protective instincts flare.

“You heard me. Get up and grab your fuckin’ suitcase. ’m taking you back to wherever you came from.”

When Simon glances back at you, something mean and violent lodges itself into his chest cavity; twisting and squeezing his rotten heart as soon as he sees the devastated look on your face; ears drooping and shoulders slouching in defeat while another soft whine vibrates in your chest.

“Okay,” you answer eventually, snivelling when fat tear breaches your lower lash line and runs down your supple cheek as you untuck your legs from under yourself to move off the couch. “Okay…”

There’s a shrill ringing in his ears when Simon’s mouth seems to move on its own, making a decision for him. “Wait. Stay–Stay right where you bloody are.”

And you immediately do as you’re told, like the obedient pup you obviously are, settling back and perking up again as you blink dumbly at the brutish man with bright, big eyes and an expectant look that makes Simon groan internally before he reaches into one of his many pockets to retrieve his old smartphone.

He mutters and curses under his breath as the cracked screen lights up, and it doesn’t take long for him to find his Captain’s name in his short contact list. Simon taps the screen with his gloved thumb to call the man, ready to argue tooth and nail to have you picked up by from his flat again, so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

Simon’s jaw is clenched tightly while his sharp gaze keeps flickering back to you, still not quite believing you’re not some stress-induced hallucination, or nightmare.

It takes two rings before Price picks up.

“Ghost–“

Simon inhales deeply. “Price–“

“Getting acquainted with your new companion, son? She’s quite the sweetheart. Easy on the eyes, too, judging by what the lads told me.”

His chest deflates, air rushing from his lungs in a long exhale. That comment alone is enough to make him even more furious. “I don’t want her. Take her back to wherever she came from, Captain.”

There’s a beat of tense silence before Price speaks up again, and Simon can hear the squeak of the old office chair as the other man leans back in it.

“Did you read her file yet?”

“No, should I?” Simon counters gruffly, feeling his patience grow thinner by the second.

“Aye, son, I suggest you should.”

“Gimme the short version, Price. I’m this close to handing her over to the next lucky bloke who passes by my fuckin’ flat.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Price says decisively on the other; his gruff voice way too calm for Simon’s liking. “She’s a rescue, Lieutenant. Got rescued from one of those terrible puppy mills.”

That makes Simon shut up as his eyes flicker over to you; softening somewhat when his eyes lock with yours. You keep watching him with the slightest pout, waiting for orders or for him to finally send you away. He’s still considering it, though the revelation of your background makes him hesitate for some odd reason. Empathy.

“Simon?”

Simon squeezes the phone harder in his grip; hard enough he thinks he might break it once and for all. “You better find a new handler for her, Captain.” He bites out through clenched teeth. “It’s not gonna be me.”

Price sighs. “Alright.” There is another pause and Simon can hear it when Price scratches his coarse beard in contemplation before he speaks up again. “Just keep an eye on her for the night, aye? I’ll make the necessary arrangement to have her transferred to someone else.”

“Good. She can stay for one night. One. Night.” Simon growls before hanging up.

The soft sound of your tail thumping against the couch catches his attention again and when he looks back at you, you’re practically beaming at him.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

I saw that your inbox was open and I just had to jump in for some more of your absolutely AMAZING writing! How about character(s) of your choice with a s/o who is completely unaccustomed to asking for help, even when they need it. Like could be just absolutely going THROUGH IT, and it doesn’t even occur to them to ask for help or support.

Reflecting after writing this, I think you were leaning more towards when reader is having a rough time. But I kept it to lighter tasks because I feel like the Papas would never let you go through something serious without checking on you. So consider helping you with smaller, not as serious issues a prelude to what would happen when something big DOES happen! To quote, “you will never walk alone.” :)

 

-              G/N Reader

-              Reader x Papa Romantic

-              Reader has different reasons for not asking for help.

-              Couple Bickering (not fighting. Think Sitcom banter).

Papas X Reader Who Doesn’t know how to ask for help

Papa Nihil: Nihil doesn’t like to interfere on the occasions you do struggle to get something done. He’s learned the hard way with strong willed partners that imposing help where it’s not wanted can end in disaster. But Nihil is not opposed to lending a hand, he just wants you to make it clear you NEED the help. However, when he does want to help he’s totally an old man about it. The type of partner that if you’re putting together furniture he will just stand there, watch you, and ask irritating questions. Asking what you are doing, how long you’ve been at it, and if you would like his help. If you say no, he will still stand around for a moment and just “ok.” Nihil will only really ask if you are visibly frustrated or about to give up. Reminding you that he really doesn’t mind lending you a hand (or getting a ghoul to do it for you.) Nihil knows you don’t like to ask, and just figures that eventually you will give in and admit it. Then he’s quickly by your side trying to find a solution to your problem! One of the main ways he does try to communicate with you is waiting until later when you are calmer. Nihil will tenderly remind you that you are allowed to say you need help. It’s his job as your partner to do so! 

Papa I: When you first became friends, Papa genuinely thought you were just stubborn. He tended to leave you to your own devices. Figuring that if you truly needed assistance, you would ask him. Not realizing in the beginning that you weren’t just independent. You just struggled to reach out. And you were VERY good at hiding it from everyone. Eventually he figured your issue out by the time you became a couple. The first big giveaway being when you couldn’t figure out a translation for one of your studies and you grew extremely quiet. Glancing his way multiple times as though debating yourself whether you should speak or not. Papa did not hesitate and went to your side. Asking if you would like his help. When you nodded that’s when he realized you had a tell. This is how it went for a while. Papa waiting for your non-verbal ques (glancing his way, fidgeting, sighing heavily) before he would offer. Eventually Papa felt comfortable in your relationship to sit you down and bluntly asked if you had difficulty with getting help. You weren’t expecting him to be so forward, but it was a relief to get off your chest and be honest!  That’s how you finally broke down to tell him that you had a lot of insecurity with getting assistance from others. You always felt like a burden and hated the idea of people getting annoyed at you if you were ‘too needy.’ Papa listened with much understanding and patience and assured you he would never say such cruel things to you. You have gotten a lot better about it, slowly but surely! 

Papa II: The two of you get along so well because you are both the same. You and Papa are so prideful that neither of you like asking for help. Even if it’s as something as simple as trying to open a jar of pickles; you’d both rather jump out of a window before admitting you couldn’t do it! “I’m fine” “I can do it!” and “Don’t worry about it” are apart of your daily conversations. But the funniest part is that sometimes you bicker over trying to help the other when they are clearly struggling to accomplish something. It’s not a fight, of course, but it’s very amusing to watch the two of you grump at each other over a non-issue. Once Papa noticed that you were having difficulty opening a package. It was one of those monster packages that felt like it was taped with cement strips. Papa heard you cursing to yourself as you ripped another piece of tape off. He asked if you would like help, to which you gave a pointed ‘no.’ You being far too invested to let others help, even as you threw another wad of tap on the ground. Papa watched you fight the monster box before he got close.

“Amore, if you do it like-“

“I got it!” You insisted. Struggling for another moment Papa grabbed the scissors,

“if you just let me-“

“noooooo! Get your own!”

“Stop being stubborn! Let me help!”

“No!” Cue you both light arguing before you finally let the man help you get the package open. Once it was open you gave a reluctant but curt ‘thanks’ as you happily opened your box. Papa felt so smug about it … until he refused to let you help do his cuff links the next day.

Papa III: Depending on how you see it, Papa can be annoyingly helpful when it comes to you. Never letting you struggle with any task big or small! He regularly goes out of his way to be romantic and, as he puts it, ‘take care of you.’ It’s just part of his personality that makes him want to be your Prince Charming and swoop in to save you! You never have to ask because Papa is ALWAYS finding a way to assist when you least expect it. You drop your books? He’s picking them up. You forget your lunch? Surprise food delivery! He’s even stopped in the middle of a work call to help you open a jammed filing cabinet; all without being asked! Whether you find this incredibly sweet or undermining and annoying is up to you. But just know it’s never to make you feel like a baby who is incapable of taking care of yourself. Papa tends to overcompensate in small ways in your relationship. It makes him feel more secure to be the partner that can always provide for you; be it with finances, emotional support, or assisting you in tasks. To him, when he sees you struggling of COURSE he’s going to take over and fix it! The way he sees it, you should NEVER have to ask for help in the first place! Which, thankfully, you already struggle with! It’s been an unblessing not having to fight with yourself to even consider asking for help. Occasionally you still must remind him that you also want to attempt to solve things on your own. To which you either get puppy dog eyes and a “are you sure, amore?” or just a nod and his careful watching you.  Other times you are happy to let him be the hero and give him a big kiss for his troubles.

Papa IV/Copia: He has noticed for a long time that you were reluctant to ask for help, he’s just not sure HOW to approach it. On one hand he loves being able to help and has no problem stopping to assist you. But on the other Copia is afraid you would be offended if he asked. He doesn’t enjoy letting you struggle, but he values your independence and capability. The last thing he wants is to be overbearing! What if he constantly tried to help you and you thought he was babying you just because of his rank? Classic Copia overthinking, honestly. Copia tends to hover around you, not realizing that you could use the help but don’t want to ask. You’ve always had an aversion to ask due to not wanting to bother people. It’s an anxious curse you’ve had for your whole life! You also didn’t want to keep Copia from his work. The man was already busy, you couldn’t just worry him in the middle of a workday! The ghouls find it very funny because you and Copia have a constant routine of you struggling with a task and him hovering and looking nervous. Neither of you dared break the awkwardness about it. Eventually Sodo couldn’t take it anymore and said what they were all thinking.

“(Your Name), would you just fucking ask for help already! Papa is practically about to explode!!”

As hilarious as it was, it made you both realize how silly your shared anxiety was!

[kissmyspaceace]

The Lost And The Lascivious

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11

Pairing: Cardinal Copia/Reader Warnings/Contents: NSFW, fluff, dinner date Word count: 4.577

AO3 Link

Tag list: @chaos-in-person @littlemisscare-all @dancerpanda04 @ballofthedeadrat @skittytreats @mschfmusings @verowo8rocks

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Saying that you couldn’t wait for Friday night to come would have been an understatement. By far. You couldn’t stop wondering about what Cardinal Copia had in stock for you, even as you were getting ready. You put on the figure-hugging black dress he had complimented you on in one of your nightly dreamspace encounters, and added some red lipstick to your makeup look. As you were looking at yourself in the mirror, a familiar question rang back through your head. It’s not a date, is it?

But at this point, with all the effort you put into grooming yourself, the time of day, the promised wine and dinner… it felt very much like this would be a date. Not to mention, the fuzzy feeling in your belly. It messed with your head.

You decided that it should be whatever it would be, and that you'd be alright with it either way. There was no point in giving yourself a headache over this, anyways. Cardinal Copia had invited you to spend the evening with him, and that’s all that mattered. You gathered your things, grabbed your purse and decided to bring the gown along that he had given you the last time, just in case. Giving yourself one last encouraging nod in the mirror, you went on your way and left to head for the church.

You announced yourself with a knock on the door. You didn’t even know why, since you never did that. At least not with the church. You entered immediately after, since you figured waiting for a reply would be stupid anyways.

The interior of the church looked as if it had been recently cleaned. The flowers had been replaced with fresh ones. A pleasant smell surrounded you as you strolled down the corridor. Just as you had reached the back of the church, you noticed a note stuck to the door leading to the cellar.

"Buona serata, cara.

You will find me downstairs, as usual.

C."

You smiled at the note, and opened the door to descend down into the basement of the church.

Finding your way perfectly well as usual, you soon arrived at his door, announcing your arrival with a gentle knock on his door.

���Come on in!”, a voice from inside shouted.

You entered the room, and gently closed the door behind you. Looking around, you were disappointed to find the room empty. “Cardinal?”

“Ah, eh- I’m over here, cara. In the study.”

You walked over to the doorway to the next room, from where the voice had come. Peeking your head inside, you saw Cardinal Copia working on some papers.

“Still working, Cardinal?”, you asked with a cheeky smile.

He looked up from the papers and his eyes sparkled when he saw your face peeking in.

“Yes, eh, I had some paperwork come up unexpectedly, I’m afraid”, he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

Your heart sank as you assumed that it would mean your meeting would fall flat. “Oh”, you said. “Should I leave, then? I don’t want to bother you while you’re busy.”

“No, no, cara. I haven’t forgotten about our little rendezvous. Just give me a few minutes, I was about to finish up anyways.”

“Alright”, you chirped and pulled your head out of the doorframe. You wandered around the room a little, your eyes gawking at the decor on the walls. You remembered the Cardinal’s words from the last time you’d been here. He had told you not to look around too much, but a part of you felt like he didn’t actually mean it. Why would he decorate his rooms, if he didn’t want anyone to look at it? You admired a few old paintings and ornamented candle holders, and didn’t hear him step up behind you.

“I see you’re letting your eyes wander again, cara”, a low voice spoke directly behind you, making you jump a bit.

Cardinal Copia’s arms wrapped around you from behind and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out a low hum. “You’re lucky that you’re wearing that dress I adore so much.”

You chuckled. “I remembered how you complimented me on it back in the dreamspace.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you remembered. Sometimes those details matter more than you’d know.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but you didn’t ask any further.

“I will go get dinner now, cara. Why don’t you take a seat over at the table?”, he whispered, gently giving your bottom a pat.

As he disappeared out of the room, you sat down at a small dining table in the other corner of the room. Exactly two chairs had been placed at the table, facing each other. In the center of the table, there was a small candelabra with three lit candles. After a few minutes, the Cardinal returned carrying two plates.

“Here we go”, he said as he closed the door with his foot and carried the plates over to the table. Setting yours down in front of you first, he gave you a polite nod. “For you, cara.”

“Thank you.”

He sat down on the opposite side of the table, and smiled at you. “I made, eh, I made an Italian dish. It’s vegetarian, just in case.”

“It smells amazing. What is it?”, you asked, curiously eyeing the food on your plate.

“It’s called ‘Parmigiana di Melanzane’. Basically, it’s eggplant, tomatoes, garlic and lots of cheese. It’s a, eh, casserole.”

“I do love me some eggplant”, you said with a sly smile, “Also, garlic always wins.”

He blushed a little bit at your remark, but ignored it for now. “Si, garlic is great. As long as both of us eat it.”

You laughed. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

“Well then, cara. Let’s eat”, he said with another nod towards the plate.

You took a bite of the steaming mix of vegetables and cheese. It tasted about as amazing as it smelled, and you damned yourself for not having heard of this dish any sooner.

“This is really good”, you complimented, “Like, wow. Actually amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it”, he answered, visibly relieved.

You both finished your plate of food in silence mostly. Afterwards, he brought out a bottle of red wine. Watching him pour the deep burgundy liquid into the fancy glasses had something alluring. His gloved hands holding the bottle so carefully, tilting it with the greatest precision, as if not to waste a single drop.

“This is a good wine. I made sure to dig out our best”, he remarked, giving you a small wink with his glaring white eye.

“You shouldn’t have”, you said with a mischievous grin. “Thank you, though.”

“Only the best for tesoro mio, no?”, he chuckled, taking your hand to place a small kiss on the back of your hand. Then, he pulled you up from your chair. "Let's head over to the sofa. It's more comfortable."

A few minutes later, the two of you were sitting on a comfortable vintage sofa, facing the fireplace, enjoying your wine in silence. The only noise that could be heard was the crackling of the fire. It wasn’t an awkward silence, though. You simply enjoyed the moment and each other's company, without a single word. After a while, the Cardinal set his empty wine glass down on a small table next to the sofa, and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked, picking up on his altered expression.

“Eh, it’s just- I haven’t done this in a long time. And I think I worry too much”, he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“What? You mean, a date?”

Cardinal Copia nodded hesitantly and let his gaze get lost in the flames of the small fire across from him.

“Then, yes. You probably worry too much”, you said, moving closer to him on the sofa, “But what exactly are you worrying about?”

His eyes were glued to the dancing flames in the fireplace, still. “I don’t know. I think I just don’t want to mess up and scare you away. Or bore you, in any way.”

You giggled softly, moving even closer. You leaned against his shoulder, feeling him tense up slightly underneath you. “I’m having a good time right now. That is not to say we couldn’t have an even better time, though.”

A sly smile spread on your face, as you watched him ponder about your words. “Anything that comes to mind, cara?”

“I’m open for ideas”, you responded with a husky voice. 

The Cardinal shivered slightly at your words, given that you were very close to his ear now, and your breath tickled his skin. "Wicked woman", he mumbled with a smirk. "I thought about something other than that, maybe. But of course, I would never deny your wish, my child."

There it was again. That nickname he had addressed you with when you had first met. And in all those dreamspace encounters. It made you shiver, and he knew that.

He pulled you against him and put an arm around you. Like this, he simply held you and you relaxed with your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat drumming in your ears. You spent a fair amount of time like this, without a word. A quick glance at the Cardinal’s face told you that his mismatched eyes were fixated on the fire in the fireplace, the flames reflecting in his eyes, making it seem like they were burning within his soul as well. You couldn’t take your eyes off him like this. Something about this sight captivated you. After a short while he seemed to have noticed your eyes on him, and turned his head to reciprocate your gaze.

"What are you looking at, tesoro?", he asked with a small smile on his lips.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just… looking", you replied.

"I can see that", he laughed, "but what exactly is it that you're so fixed on?"

"I, uhm, I just liked how you looked right then. Staring into the fire and all. The flames reflecting in your eyes, I liked that."

A low chuckle escaped his throat. “Fire can be mesmerizing, cara. Very much so. But now I feel a little bad for letting my eyes get distracted from a view I’d much rather enjoy.”

He held your chin between his index finger and his thumb, keeping your gaze fixed on him. You felt the butterflies in your belly run wild. That fuzzy feeling was undoubtedly more than just lust at this point, and you wouldn’t be able to lie to yourself for much longer. How a man so strange had been able to captivate you like this was still incomprehensible to you. And yet, here you were.

The Cardinal closed the gap between you and pressed a gentle kiss onto your lips. Briefly pulling away, he stared deeply into your eyes, his face a mere inch away from yours. “Are you enjoying yourself?”, he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nodded. “Yes, I think it’s a very nice evening so far.”

“Good”, he replied. His lips brushed against yours ever so slightly, and you silently wished for more contact, feeling a familiar heat in your abdomen return. “I won’t lie, cara. I would like to engage in a little more… physical activity. Having you this close to me, in such an alluring dress - it’s nearly torturous.”

You gave him a mischievous smile, causing him to chuckle and shake his head.

"You're well aware of this, aren't you?", he asked, placing soft kisses down your jawline and the side of your neck. You hummed, leaning your head to the side to give him better access. He paused for a moment, mumbling against the skin of your neck. The soft vibrations sent shivers down your spine. "Tesoro, listen. I don't want you to think that I… eh, that I am only interested in getting physical with you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Huh?"

He lifted his head back up, and cupped your face with both of his hands. You felt your face flush red as your cheeks heated up beneath his intense gaze. His eyes bore deep into your soul.

"But at the same time, I truly want to worship every centimeter of your body to show you that I am being genuine", he spoke with a husky voice, his eyes getting clouded with desire. "Will you let me?"

Your face was burning at this point and you barely managed to speak. "I, uhm…"

"Will you let me worship and adore every tiny bit of your body, give you pleasure over and over again until you are saturated? Will you let me touch you on a level so deep that it reaches your soul?"

His words lulled you in like a strange spell. The faint smell of flowers graced your nose again. "Yes…", you breathed.

"And once I have finished, will you let me do it all over again?", he whispered, his gaze wandering from your eyes to your lips.

Gripping his collar tightly, you let out a shaky sigh. "Please."

"I want you to understand that I don't take this lightly, cara mia. The one below has shown us how he'd approve of this bond, and if we choose to deepen it… there is no going back, I'm afraid. Every time we come together as one, our bond will grow immensely stronger", he said with a low, rumbly voice.

The heat started pooling between your legs now. Every fiber of your being told you 'yes', begging you to finally tell him whatever he wanted to hear, just so he'd finally touch you. You wanted him. You needed him. You'd accept your fate, whatever it would be, if it only meant that he'd be with you. "I understand that", you breathed. "I can feel it. It's not like I've been oblivious to this ominous energy this whole time. It surrounds us, and it only grows stronger when we are together, like this."

Cardinal Copia growled in approval, grabbing your wrist and pulling you against him, with his other hand resting on the small of your back.

"Are you sure you want this? I've been wanting to give you more time to think, tesoro", he growled into your ear.

"I'm sure of it, Cardinal", you replied, wrapping your arms around him. He sighed into your hair and reciprocated the embrace, holding you tight for a long moment.

"You're too perfect for your own good", he finally murmured, before he grabbed your hair in the nape of your neck and yanked your head to the side, making you whimper. He started biting and nibbling on the sensitive skin of your neck as he grabbed your butt, roughly squeezing the flesh, earning another whimper from you. His hand snaked up to the zipper of your dress, dragging it open painfully slowly. You held onto his shoulders, your trembling fingers digging into the fabric of his suit. 

"You know, cara", he said, with his lips directly next to your ear, "This is like unwrapping a present. You gotta do it slowly, to savor the moment."

You whined in response. 

A devilish grin spread across his face as he watched you squirm impatiently. Finally, the zipper had been fully opened, and he started hoisting the skirt of the dress up and above your hips, tenderly stroking up and down your thighs. His lips found your neck again, and your hand wandered from his shoulder up the back of his head, where your fingers entangled with his hair. You felt him shiver when your nails ran across his scalp, resulting in his kisses becoming more hungry and aggressive, with his teeth occasionally scraping against your skin. His fingers danced around the inside of your thighs ever so slightly sometimes, but left again just before they could reach where you wanted them.

Your face was burning up, just like your body. You got incredibly worked up under his skillful touch, so much so that you were afraid of losing control over yourself. As if in a haze, your hand reached for his crotch instinctively. It was met with a prominent bulge, and the Cardinal hissed at your touch, as you gently rubbed him through the fabric of his pants.

“So impatient”, he scolded, “So needy today. Tell me, cara mia: Is this what you’ve been looking forward to all day?”

His words were followed by his teeth gently biting down on your earlobe. His hands gripped your thighs, threatening to leave bruises, as he subtly rocked his hips against the palm of your hand. “Is this what has been on your mind all this time? I’m giving you dinner and a romantic evening, and you’re already wanting for more. What an eager little thing…”

He chuckled darkly before he roughly tore the dress off of you over your head, and draped it over the back of the vintage sofa. You were left in your sheer, lacy underwear. With flushed cheeks, you avoided his gaze. Yes, you had hand picked that underwear set in case something like this would happen. And yes, you had expected it to happen to a certain degree. With him, you always did. It was the energy he had given you from the very start. But you didn’t mind it at all. In fact, you secretly loved it.

“Your taste in clothing is great, cara. I can't stress it enough. I think I don’t even want to take these off, either”, he said with a sly smirk, gently ghosting his fingertips over the fabric of your bra. The subtle touch sent shivers down your spine once more, and your grip on his bulge tightened a little. He groaned in response. "Nevermind. I think I want you bare, after all."

With one swift move, he undid the clasp of your bra and tore it off or your chest, throwing it over to join your dress. Peppering your bare chest and breasts with kisses, he bucked against your hand, asking for more friction. You gladly obliged, and undid his pants so you could slip your hand in. You came in direct contact with this bare flesh, indicating that yet again, he wasn’t wearing underwear. Seems like this man really isn’t fond of underwear.

He hummed when you came in contact with him, gently rocking his hips back and forth after you had wrapped your hand around him. A few unintelligible whispers left his mouth, his lips barely brushing against the skin of your neck. After a few more thrusts, he groaned and subtly shoved a hand under you, pushing aside your panties. His gloved fingers slid between your folds and started stroking back and forth, making you whine a little louder than you'd intended to. He muffled your noise by smashing his lips onto yours again, roughly shoving his tongue past your lips and invading your mouth. You freed him a little further from his pants, so that now his evident lust was rubbing against you.

"I like how impatient you are, cara mia. And judging by this", Copia hummed, pushing one finger into you with ease, "you're more than ready for me, too."

You whimpered at the sensation and nodded, seeking support by putting your hands on his shoulders again. At this point, you didn’t trust your tongue. He had gotten you so worked up, you feared that you wouldn’t even be able to stand. The Cardinal placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as he positioned himself at your entrance. You took it as a cue to sink down onto him, and you groaned as you felt him stretch you bit by bit. You went at an agonizingly slow pace, causing him to bury his face in your neck, cursing under his breath. When you had finally taken in all of him, you sighed and he uttered a pleased hum, placing tender kisses up and down the side of your neck. “Molto bene, cara. You know how to make a man weak.”

After the short moment that it took you to adjust, you started rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He held onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin so hard almost to the point that you feared it might leave you with bruises. He let his head roll back, resting it on the back of the sofa.. His eyebrows were furrowed, and small pearls of sweat started forming on his temples. Something about this was, in a way, torturing him a little, and you wondered if it might be your rather slow pace. As much as you enjoyed seeing him struggle like this, you felt like experimenting to see how he’d react to a different sort of movement, or a different pace, perhaps. You started moving down on him harder with each move, causing him to hiss and moan at the sudden change in intensity. You yelped when you felt him hit a spot deeper inside you, and with each time the spot was hit again and again, you felt like you were starting to see stars. After a few more times of you bouncing up and down upon him, he suddenly pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, subsequently letting your movements come to a halt. You felt and heard his heavy breathing close to your ear. His heart was hammering strong and fast against your chest. “Hold on, cara”, he huffed, shortly before lifting you up a little and tossing himself and you to the side, so that you landed on your back, with him still clinging onto you. Your head was laying on the armrest, your back pressed against the soft cushions of the sofa, with Cardinal Copia’s body weight on top of you. Slowly, he rose up a little, pulling your hips closer and draping your legs around his own hips.

A quick, harsh snap of his hips initiated phase two. You whined at the sudden movement, arching your back a little. The Cardinal’s eyes were fixed on you, his white iris glaring holes into your soul, as he started pounding into you relentlessly. You hadn’t seen this slightly feral side of him until then but as you succumbed to pleasure you found yourself enjoying every bit of it. Your hot breaths were mixing, and the only sound in the room beside the crackling fire was the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the occasional groan of the Cardinal, accompanied by your soft moans and whimpers. A wicked grin spread on his face, as he stared down at you with his white iris glowing in the dim light of the room. "You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit", he huffed between thrusts, "I'm afraid I won't last much longer like this, cara."

“Me neither”, you managed to huff out between his thrusts.

His movements slowed down every now and then, dragging out his inevitable point of release as long as possible. You could tell that he was fighting himself.

You purposefully clenched your muscles, hugging his length tightly. The sound he made in response was out of this world. His thrusts became merciless and harsh, and soon after his eyes rolled back and he groaned as he tipped over the edge.

His arms were shaking as he tried to hold himself steady, as not to drop his entire weight on you. A few strands of his neatly combed back hair had fallen onto his forehead, damp from his sweat. After catching his breath, he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up from underneath him, setting you on his lap. He embraced you, pushing your body against his as if he was attempting to melt into you. You felt him twitch inside you, the shockwaves from his release still pulsing through his body.

“Cara mia, that was… intense. Do you see what you do to me?”, he breathed into your ear.

“Yes”, you chuckled, “But I do hope you liked it?”

He huffed in response. “That is an understatement. I loved it. And I will come back for more, in time.”

“Gladly.”

- - - - - - - - -

The two of you spent the rest of the evening in front of the fireplace, in a blissful, mostly quiet embrace. After a while, you slowly got up.

“It’s getting late, I should probably leave.”

Cardinal Copia cleared his throat. “Yes, eh, if you would like to, of course. It is pretty late.”

You gathered your things and he opened the door for you. “I will escort you to the front door, child.”

At the church’s front door you bowed your head slightly as a sign of gratitude. “Thank you so much for the lovely evening, and the amazing food.”

He placed a hand on your cheek. “Thank you for blessing me with your presence, cara. I will gladly have you by my side anytime.”

His eyes scanned the area outside. “It is dark already. Can I trust you will get home safely?”

You turned around and your eyes met the darkness of the night. The nearby park was illuminated by a few street lights. Except for a few birds in the trees, the park was completely empty.

“I guess so. This area is mostly safe, at least usually.”

The Cardinal furrowed his brows, a concerned hum emitting from his throat. “I cannot leave the church to escort you home at this time. I have to watch over this place.”

“Oh, it’s alright. You don’t have to do that-”

“Yes, I do. Your safety is a priority”, he interrupted you. “But I’ve got an idea.”

He reached into his pocket, and handed you an envelope. “Open it.”

You did as you were told. Inside the envelope, there was some sort of necklace with a strange pendant - the same one that adorned the Cardinal’s robes. Alongside the necklace, there was a piece of paper with handwritten lines on it. They appeared to be in Latin.

“If anything should be the matter, no matter where you are, you can use this. If you should be in any danger, read those words out loud. A mere whisper would work too”, he explained, while taking the necklace from your hands and putting it on you. “Just promise me you will use it. Trust your gut feeling. You will know if you need it, when you need it.”

You were slightly confused, but decided to just roll with it. “Alright, thank you.”

He smiled at you fondly, and gently stroked the pendant of the necklace. “I knew this would suit you so well.”

He leaned over and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on your lips. “Hurry home now, tesoro.”

“Good night, Cardinal”, you whispered and stepped away from the church.

Your walking pace soon picked up speed. Usually you loved the nighttime, but tonight something felt off. You weren’t sure if you were alone or not, perhaps you were just paranoid. But it felt like something or someone was watching you, following you.

Your walking soon turned to running, and soon enough you could hear steps following yours, picking up speed as well.

I’m nearly at the end of the park, I can do this.

At the last turn however, the steps grew louder and louder and you could see a silhouette behind you. There was no doubting it now.

You were being chased.

[ghostedbunnie]

there's something empowering in holding the razor to simon's throat when shaving his face for him. it's peak intimacy for someone like him who doesn't trust easy.

but to you he is like a well adjusted cat, purring with his eyes closed while showing his belly. his most vulnerable parts.

it warms your heart and you need to show it so you take the razor away from his throat for a second to drop a barely there kiss on his freshly shaved cheek. simon only reacts with satisfied hum and cracking one eye open.

"what was that for?" he asks.

"just felt like it." you shrug not wanting to be all sappy.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bouncer

You feel perfectly safe getting drunk and letting loose, especially with your favourite bouncer to keep an eye on you. Well, up until the night you realise that every party has a price. Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley inspired, implied somno, 3.1k words

Y'know who you shouldn't trust as much as you do? Bouncers. Sure, most of them are great. Just trying to do their jobs, keeping people safe when the booze starts hitting too hard.

But not in your case. No, when it comes to you - the bubbly party girl who smiles at just about everyone - the yandere bouncer at your favourite club doesn't have such noble intentions.

He's a big guy. All the security guys are, but he's big even by those standards. Standard issue black t-shirt straining at the seams when he crosses his arms. Mean mug, always scowling at any drunk stupid enough to breathe the same air as him.

Girls and guys alike think he's hot, but no amount of liquid courage can stand up to his glare. Anyone who tries to flirt with him usually thinks better of it when they're less than two sentences in. He's not here to hook up in the bathroom or be a rebound situationship. He's here to work.

The first time he runs into you, he barely notices anything beyond your skirt. Short as hell, even by clubbing standards.

What, do you want every bastard in there to get an eyeful of your thong, sweetheart?

He doesn't say it out loud. Just scoffs and hands you back your ID. Doesn't bother to reply when you wish him a good night.

The second time he runs into you, you're a little tipsy already. Smiling up at him like you don't see the pierced eyebrow or the scowl. He's tempted to not let you in - club has a strict no pre-drinking policy - but then you bat your lashes at him and joke that pre-gaming is the only way anyone can have any fun at all in this economy.

He snorts and let's you pass. He doesn't fully recognise you - too many faces, too little light - but some subconscious part of him takes note of your perfume. Something bright and fruity that makes him think of summer punch and getting drunk on the beach.

You try and greet him before you leave, half hanging off your more sober friend. You yell something over your shoulder about having a good time and smiling more. He isn't sure what you're on about, but it's kind of cute the way you mumble a little when you're drunk.

He doesn't expect to see you again, nor does he expect to recognise you if he does. There's half a dozen clubs in this rotten city, and half a million pretty girls with too short skirts.

But he does.

Notices you standing in line because the people around you are cracking up, total strangers laughing at some lame joke you made. He let's his partner do most of the ID checks that night. Not really realising it, but wanting a chance to watch you.

Your jokes aren't that funny. You touch people too much. You've got a laugh that's a bit too loud. But people like you.

Total strangers chatting it up and smiling like they've met a celebrity.

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles. A few people in the front of the line flinch away from him. He doesn't bother reassuring them.

What is it about you? What makes you so magnetic?

When you're finally at the front of the line, you give his partner a megawatt grin and call her by her name. Ask how her shoulders holding up after that brawl last week.

You smile at him too, your fingers brushing his wrist when you take your ID back.

"Hey, Mr tall, dark and scary. How's the biz treating you?"

"The same as it was last week. Same as it's going to be next week," he grinds out.

You pat his arm - are you seriously touching him? You barley know him - and flash him that same beaming smile.

"Don't be so pessimistic, handsome. I see lots of booze and parties in your future."

He scoffs. "Yeah. I reckon just about anyone could figure that."

You aren't offended. You just wink at him and disappear, your new friends in tow.

When he finally goes on break, he asks his partner about you.

"Oh, she's sweet, isn't she? Don't think she's been coming here long though."

"Three weeks," he mutters. "She knows your name?"

His partner laughs and tosses her cigarette onto the pavement. "Guess so. Nice of her to ask, don't you think?"

He isn't sure what to think, honestly.

He doesn't see you for two weeks after that. And when you're finally back, he can't help asking you about it.

"Oh, I had work," you say with a shrug. "I'm very flattered that you noticed."

"Hard not to. There wasn't any commotion, so I figured you weren't around."

You giggle and slap his arm, as cheesy as a cheerleader in a slasher movie. Still, it's kind of nice. Girls don't really act that way around him. It's either shy or terrified. Bubbly and a little over the top is a nice change.

He watches you walk away, your skirt just as short as the first time he noticed you.

Damn, doll. You make it hard for a man to focus. Got my mind in the bloody gutter.

It's late when you finally stumble out of the club, your heels in one hand and your phone in the other. You're trying to order an Uber but your cracked and unresponsive screen doesn't mix well with your booze addled senses. He gives it five minutes before he intervenes.

He plucks the phone out of your hand and sighs when you sag against him, half murmured thank yous slurring against his sleeve.

Out past your bedtime, eh love?

"Where do you stay?"

You tell him, your eyes half closed and your forehead resting against his arm.

Telling a stranger your address? C'mon doll, you should know better than that.

He waits with you until your ride arrives, and then he walks you to the car. He takes note of the number plate, only half aware that he's doing it.

He leans on the roof, barring his teeth at the driver in something only half related to a smile.

"Drop her off safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure," the man agrees, nodding like a bobble head. "Wouldn't think of messing with her."

I'll break your wrists if you even look at her wrong.

"Right. Have a good one."

He raps his knuckles on the roof and watches until the tail lights fade.

There's an itch at the back of his brain that he just can't get rid of. Some annoying, rebellious part of him that keeps thinking about how warm you felt when you leaned up against him. How you're just short enough that he can rest his chin on your head.

The itch doesn't go away.

He keeps thinking about you until the weekend rolls around. What the hell do you do for work? It's hard to picture you in corporate - not when he's seen how low your necklines go. Pitching up to meetings and HR presentations when just a few nights ago you were drinking shots off a stranger's back? Not fucking likely.

...Although you would look pretty great in one of those tight little pencil skirts. Yeah, you pert ass would probably have your coworkers breaking their necks.

He doesn't see you in line until it's almost midnight. You look a little out of it. Constantly checking your phone, a half frown puckering your perfectly gelled brows.

He wants to pull you out of line. He really does. Not to give you any fancy VIP treatment - he wouldn't mind it though, he'd like to spoil you a little - but to just talk.

He shakes his head like a bull until the urge isn't quite so loud. Unprofessional, that. Showing favouritism. Not fair to the other people waiting in line. Still...

When he does finally get to talk to you, you aren't yourself. You cover it up with a smile, but even he can tell it's a poor veneer.

"I'm meeting up with my ex," you tell him when he finally gets around to asking. (It takes awhile. Has your ID always been this interesting? Shiny patterns. Nice typeface they're using now. And your birthday is exactly six months after his. Cute).

He doesn't know what to say to that. Isn't sure how he feels about it, either. Why the hell are you meeting some douche who you were one hundred percent right to dump? (He assumes it was you who did the dumping. No man in his right mind would let you go, not even if you're the type to swing a knife around on bad days).

"Good luck," he manages at last. "Hope he isn't an ass."

You squeeze his arm when you leave and he feels the ghost of your fingers for the rest of the night.

Your ex is an ass. All that and more. He can tell from the too heavy cologne, the pretentious boat shoes, the obnoxious laugh.

You're on his arm, smiling but not entirely comfortable. What are you thinking? Entertaining this overly polished turd of a man?

He stops you before you leave. Leans down and brushes his lips against your hair.

"You sure you're okay to go home with this guy?"

You give him a quick nod and a grateful smile.

He straightens, angry but not entirely sure why. He watches you walk away, his right hand clenching and unclenching around his radio until the veins stand out on his forearm.

You could do better than that, doll. You could be doing me.

He ends up finding your ex's name. Entirely on accident, swear. Finger slipped and before he knew it he was watching the CCTV footage of the front door, pausing when the guy's ID got flashed to the camera.

And now that he has that info, it's only logical that he checks him out on social media. You're a valued customer. He needs to be sure that the people you're associating with are safe.

Oh, and this guy isn't safe at all. Party animal, pussy hound. Sure, there's a pic or two of you together, but most of his profile is dedicated to shots of raves and cocktails and pretty girls.

You deserve better, don't you know that? Someone who can keep you safe when you're drunk, who can keep an eye on you when the clubs you like are filled with dark corners and shady drinks.

He's going to ask you out. It's only half decided - most of his brain pulling him one way and most of his cock pulling him the other. His heart split somewhere in the middle.

He's gonna be good for you, he knows it. Get rid of that overblown and overrated ex. Teach you which drinks are hopelessly overpriced and which ones are worth the cash. Not going to change you, no. That's what insecure men try and do when their girl likes to let loose on the weekends. No, he likes you just as you are. You need a bit of muscle to lean on, that's all.

But when the weekend rolls around, all his plans go swirling down the gutter. You're on your ex's arm again. Smiling too quick, laughing too sharp. But with him all the same.

C'mon doll, thought you were smarter than that.

You don't get a chance to chat. Your ex drags you straight into the club, barely waiting to get his ID back.

He wants to trade shifts. Abandon door duty and follow you around inside.

He doesn't. He snaps at the patrons and he bites his tongue bleeding and he clenches his fist until his nails dig into his skin, and he manages to not follow you.

The best decision to make, after all.

Your ex waits until the night is almost over to finally make his move. Or at least that's how it looks.

When he walks out of the club with his arm around your waist, it's clear that you're totally out of it. Barely standing on your own two feet, hair hanging forward and hiding your face.

He stops you. Of course he does. He's seen you tipsy and he's seen you blackout, but he's never seen you this bad.

Your ex tries to brush it off.

"She didn't have any head for the shots, that's all."

He doesn't buy it. Tilts your chin up and shines his torch in your eyes.

There it is. The fucking bastard.

Your pupils are blown out wide, not contracting at all even with his torch burning right into your retinas.

He knows you. Better than he'd like to admit. And he knows you don't party this hard.

He straightens and looks down at your ex with thinly veiled disgust.

"She's not going home with you."

The man laughs. "She's my girlfriend. 'Course she is."

He smiles. Or shows his teeth at least.

"She's. Not. Going. Anywhere."

The man freezes for a second, and then his smile turns nasty. "Who the fuck are you to decide who goes home with who?"

He wants to punch your ex in the throat.

He doesn't. Just looks at him, fingers curling into a fist almost as big as your head. Your ex is drunk, he's not as sharp as he would be sober. But his instincts aren't so dull that they don't recognise what's in front of him.

He's a bouncer, true. But more than that, he's a fighter.

Your ex can see it in the way he stands, can see it in the eyes that move too quick to follow.

And he's not just a fighter. He's a man with a whole lot to fight for.

Your ex licks his lips, too stupid to shut up.

"I'll call the cops on you, asshole."

The bouncer laughs. The first time anyone around here has ever heard it.

It's not a pleasant sound.

"Go ahead," he snarls softly, "Call them. And when they show up, why don't you also tell 'em the reason why your girlfriend is all shot up with special K, hmm?"

"She isn't -

"Don't even try it."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you away from your ex. The bastard at least has the sense to not fight him.

Your boyfriend starts going on about calling the club owner, getting him fired. But he doesn't bother listening - it all fades to nothing when he holds you.

There, the way it's 'sposed to be.

You're warm, burning up with a fever. (How hot does your cunt feel if your hands are already scorching?) He needs to get you checked out. Needs to make sure whatever shit your ex snuck you isn't mixing with the alc.

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. (Your lipstick would look so fucking good staining his cock).

"Mr tall, dark and scary. Gonna get me home again?"

He nudges you in the direction of the parking lot and you stumble, hands knotting in his shirt.

"Even better, doll. Gonna take you home myself."

You close your eyes the second he straps you into his passenger seat. It takes a minute or two to shake you awake.

He isn't an EMT, but working clubs means knowing all the signs of an overdose. You're on the verge of passing out, but you're not in any real danger. Breathing regular, heartbeat fast but not concerningly so. Lucky. Things could have gone a whole lot worse. As it stands, all you're going to suffer tomorrow is a bit of nausea and one killer headache.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles when you lean your face into his palm.

"You're totally out of it, aren't you? Won't remember a thing come morning."

You hum quietly, lips brushing his pulse.

"The hell am I 'sposed to do with you? You don't even have your keys on you."

He sighs and closes the passenger door. No help for it - he's going to have to take you to his place. (You, in his bed, where you belong).

You don't complain when the engine guns to life. A little beyond the realm of registering those sorts of things.

And you don't complain when he carries you up to his apartment, your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't mean to undress you. He's a lot of things, but not a degenerate. It's just when he finally lays you down on his sheets, it's clear that the straps on your dress are cutting into your. Gonna leave marks that burn in the morning.

Getting you out of your dress is the responsible thing to do. And if it has his cock twitching, well, that's just coincidental.

You're in matching lace underwear.

He fists the blanket until he stops thinking of beating your asshole ex into a dirt.

She was gonna give it to you anyway, you bastard. You didn't have to drug her.

He breathes out through his nose. Once. Twice. Calm down, focus on the here and now. Deal with that bastard later.

There. Much better. And look at you, burrowing down into his pillows. Do you like the smell of him, is that what this is?

He undoes your bra and tosses it over his shoulder to join your dress and heels.

Didn't he once hear that it's unhealthy to sleep with a bra on? Increases the risk of cancer or something. Yeah, that's why he took it off. For the sake of your health.

He watches you for a while. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the flickering behind your eyelids as you start to dream.

He should take a picture or two. It would be a shame not to. And what you don't know can't hurt you, right? All pretty in his bed. God knows the girls he brings home never get the chance to sleep. This is a rare thing, worth documenting.

The flash doesn't bother you. Maybe a few more. Just to make sure they're good quality. Don't want to look back tomorrow and realise the pics are all blurry.

Just a few more. Maybe a video.

You look good, but you'd look even better without your panties in the way. They ruin the view.

He hooks his thumb under the band and slips them off, his fingers almost brushing your cunt.

There. So much better.

He swallows and puts his phone down, some part of him screaming at him for being a bastard. Another part screaming at him for not being a big enough bastard to take what he wants.

"You're too sweet to end up in a stranger's bed, doll. Getting fucked when you're too out of it to remember."

The streetlight outside his window washes you in alternating stripes of dark and light. He leans down and runs a hand up your thigh. Soft skin, like a peach right before you sink your teeth in.

"So it's a good thing we're not strangers."

[merowkittie]

snuggled up between simon and johnny watching tv, though it feels like it’s watching you now as you look at simon. your eyes are all over him as you trace the small scars on his face and trail your nails down his jaw to his neck, swiping at the small nicks of what could be marks from the tip of a blade. then you press a soft kiss to his adam’s apple and turn to johnny, who’s already looking at you with a big grin. his arms are immediately going around your body, his face diving for the place where your shoulder and your neck meet and he inhales deeply the scent of you. he lets out a sigh of what sounds like bliss and relief. you hear simon grumble something behind you maybe him telling johnny to stop hogging you, and you laugh. you laugh because nights like this are so rare with your boys. so you’ll cherish it tonight before they have to leave in the morning. your simon and your johnny.