#papa emeritus i x gn reader

[ramblingoak]

Can I also ask for Primo and „whispering in-between kisses“? You know what types of kisses 👀

I know the exact kind of kisses you want. It's time to worship that old man.

What You See I Primo x gn!reader

~ Primo needs you to tell him what you see when you look at him ~

(1800 words, fluff, angst, body worship, some spice, nsfw, 18+ only, not beta read)

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“Amore, what do you see when you look at me?”

You set your brush down onto your vanity and turned sideways in the chair to look at Primo.

“I see someone that was supposed to be dressed ten minutes ago.”

Usually Primo enjoyed your teasing and he often teased you back.  It was an easy banter between two people that had known each other for many years.  Looking at Primo right now though it was clear he was not in a teasing mood.  He sat down heavily on the side of your bed, a long sigh exhaling out of him.

“That is not what I mean.”  There was a tone to his voice you didn’t normally hear and it made you get up to head his way.  You held your bathrobe together and quietly padded over to stand before him.  Primo was staring down at his hands in his lap, wringing them together nervously, so you dropped to your knees and slipped your hands into his to stop the movement.  “Tell me the truth.”

You pulled his hands towards you and placed kisses into each of his palms before looking up at him.  He met your gaze now, his eyes searching yours for an answer.  

“I see the man I’ve admired for many years and loved for many more.”  Primo snorted and pulled his hands away with enough force you fell back on your butt.  “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“That is not what I asked.”  He stood up and then reached down to you, gently grasping your elbows and pulling you to your feet.  You let out another ‘hey’ when he tugged you over to the windows that overlooked his garden.  Primo squeezed your hands and then let go of one to grasp your chin.  “Now, look at me and tell me what you see.”

You pulled away from his hands and then placed yours on his shoulders.  With a firm shove you got him to fall into the chair behind him and climbed after him.  You straddled him, your knees on either side of his legs.  He wouldn’t meet your eyes so you used his own move on him and took a hold of his chin.

“I see someone that is tired from all of his years of working hard for this church.”  His mismatched gaze met yours then and your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.  You leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before moving down to kiss the soft, puffy skin under each eye.  “You never get enough sleep because you’re up too late worrying about your brothers.”

The only answer you got was a soft nod and you smiled at him before kissing the tip of his nose.  Your lips trailed from there to where the skin next to his mouth where he had wrinkles from smiling and then further down to where it had begun to sag.

“My Papa is getting older and his face shows it.  His body shows it.”  You kissed along his chin and then made your way down his neck, whispering into the wrinkled skin there when you stopped again.  “Can I keep going, Papa?  Can I show you what else I see?”

You felt him nod above you so you slipped your hands into his robe and pushed it off his shoulders.  He was bare underneath and you took a moment to admire the body you had been intimately familiar with for many years now.  When you started kissing him again you made your way from his neck across to his shoulder.

“Your skin has seen too much sun, Papa.  Look at all these freckles.”  To illustrate the amount he had you made sure to kiss each one you saw.  You made a mental note to be more forceful with sunscreen next time he went out in his garden.  Down his arm you went, finally holding his hand up between you so you could both look at the rough skin on the back.  A few of his knuckles were misshapen, arthritis having begun to set into his joints many years ago.  “I can tell that these hands have done so much.”

“Like what?”

Primo’s voice was quiet and shaking slightly.  You were afraid to look into his eyes because if you saw tears there you would end up crying too.  He needed you to be strong right now and you refused to let him down.

“Your hands have held onto so many others here, guiding them onto their path within the church…leading them in prayer…pulling them from the lake during their unholy baptism.”  A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.  “I’ve seen this hand slap Secondo on the back of the head when he misbehaved as a child.”

“Or as a grown man.”

It was good to hear Primo laugh and you chanced a look at his face.  His eyes shone with unshed tears and he sniffed when he saw the same in your eyes.  He brought his free hand over and caught one when it started to trail down your cheek.  

“I remember you holding Terzo’s hand when his mother passed away, how you carried him around the garden so he could pick flowers to take to her grave each week.”  You grabbed his other hand when he tried to wipe your tears away again.  “And I remember when you stormed up to Nihil and took Copia from his arms.”

“That old fool wasn’t cut out to be a father.”

“No he wasn’t, but you were.”  You placed his hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward to place a kiss on his chest over his heart.  His chest hair was more white than blonde now, much like the hair on his head before he had begun to shave it, but it was still soft to the touch.  For a moment you rested your ear against him, listening to his strong heartbeat.  “You’ve been there for all of your brothers and helped them to become the men they are today.”  

He took a deep breath under your ear and you could tell he was trying very hard to control his emotions.  You weren’t done though, because deep down you knew what his biggest worry was when he started this conversation.  Very slowly you turned your head so that your lips were against his skin and you kissed a trail to his nipple.  You flicked your tongue against it before pulling it between your lips and nipping at it softly with your teeth.

“Amore…”

“Hush Papa, I’m not done.”  You moved to his other nipple and gave it the same amount of attention before going lower to where his skin had started to pull down with age.  The wrinkles here were larger, the skin soft and warm against your lips.  Primo jumped when your tongue left a wet trail across his chest.  “When I look at you Primo, when I touch you, I see a man that has aged beautifully.”

Your mouth moved to the center of his chest and you slid off his lap to rest on your knees before him.  The robe was easy to pull off his lap and now he was completely bare before you.  His cock was still soft, but that didn’t surprise you.  It didn’t bother you either.  You placed your hands on his knees and then slid them up his thighs, resting where they met his waist.  Primo abruptly dropped his hands to cover yours and gave them a squeeze.

“Not tonight, I don’t think, amore.  Too much going on in this old head.”

You smiled and moved closer to him, shouldering his legs further apart.  

“It doesn’t make a difference to me either way.  Do you know why?”  Primo shook his head, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp as you leaned forward and started to mouth along his soft cock.  “Because I still see the man I love no matter what is happening here.”

Even soft his cock was long and you took it as deep as you could, the tip reaching well into your mouth.  You tongued the underside, pulling back so you could press it against his slit.  His thighs had begun to shake under your hands and you heard him groan above you.  As you bobbed up and down a few times you let out a little moan when you felt him finally twitch in your mouth.  With a smile you pulled off, a string of saliva lingering from your lips to the tip as you moved away.  Primo pulled a hand out from under yours and rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip, smearing your saliva around.

“Shall I keep going Papa?”  He gave you a quick nod, taking a deep breath as you mouthed along the side of his cock.  It twitched again, slowly filling out as you gave it attention.  You licked the drop of precum that started to leak at the tip and then looked up to see him watching you.  “Will you tell me now?  Will you tell me what you see when you look at me?”

He brought his hands up to cup your face, smiling softly as he pulled you close enough to slip his cock into your mouth once more.

“I see someone that is more beautiful than any flower in my garden.”  Primo grunted as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth, his cock nearly fully hard.  “Someone that has never left my side, that ah!  Cazzo.  Someone that…someone that I love more than anything.”

His moans started to mix with your whimpers as he moved faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust now.  There was so much more you wanted to say.  So much more that he needed to hear but you didn’t want to stop him.  You wanted him to fill your mouth with his cum, you wanted to swallow everything he gave you.  

Primo’s fingers began to dig harder in your hair as his cock started to kick in your mouth.  It wasn’t long before he nearly doubled-over as he came.  Your mouth filled with his release and you did your best to swallow it all, lapping at his cock to clean off what you could.  When he pulled out you kept your lips wrapped around him until you pulled off with a soft pop.  He was looking at you like you were the only other person in his world and you found your eyes filling with tears again when he spoke softly to you.

“In you, amore, I see someone that I will worship until my final days.  If you’ll let me.”

“Forever, Papa.”

He chuckled, wiping the mixture of saliva and his release off your chin before leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“Forever.” 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

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

[darkhairedmenrule]

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO its tony

man

would you be oh so kind as to make an

papa's x gn reader with fluff :)))))))))))

pretty please with gay men on top

Comfort time with the Papas

These are just little comfort headcanons that I came up with, this should be gn! reader because I don't mention any pronouns. I hope you like them Tony <3 All of these are romantic but if anyone wants a platonic or spicy version let me know. Please be gentle, this is my first Ghost fic. Enjoy!

Primo- With Primo, I imagine you two often peacefully coexist in his garden. Whether it be that he is teaching you how to garden and the differences in all of his plants, or you already know about gardening and he trusts you to help. These early mornings or evenings allow you both to just spend time together without having to fill the silence. You always make sure that he actually takes breaks and doesn't push himself too far. You guys only work for maybe an hour or so, nothing strenuous, and after you walk back to your shared rooms hand in hand. After you guys clean up, sharing sweet kisses or hugs depending on what you are comfortable with, he asks you if you want a drink. If you are a tea person, he makes you an absolutely lovely cup of tea ( from leaves that he grew himself, we love a girlboss). If you aren't a tea person he will make you anything that you want, even learn how to make your favorite drink. With your drinks, you cuddle either in bed with a good book or watch a movie that you both like.  All in all, you both enjoy a sweet calm evening after your long often hectic days. He always is generous with his affection, whether that be kisses and cuddling or letting you talk and being there for you physically and emotionally. Primo just wants his darling to be happy and healthy and will do anything to make that happen( even if you have to convince him to get a TV or any new technology in his room). He is simply grateful and honored that he gets to share these sweet moments with you and to let his heart be full of love and affection. Primo is a sweetheart and I just wanna kiss his forehead <3

Secondo- With Secondo, I imagine that he is used to filling his free time with carnal acts of all kinds, which is perfectly fine but we are not focusing on that today. I think that like his older brother, Secondo would crave domestic normalcy and would never pass it up. I imagine you found out about his hobby after he realized that you were interested in more than one night with him. I can see you finding his paintings and asking him if it would be okay if you joined him, and of course, he would want you to join him. He may be more stoic in some aspects than his brothers, but this man has so much affection to give you. Regardless of your skill level, he is going to treasure any and every painting you make with him. I can imagine him either keeping them in your shared room or creating a little gallery that he keeps on his phone( yes he has one but you might have to help him with it sometimes). After you guys have decided to finish painting one evening, you guys clean up and he offers to make you a drink. If you aren't a big fan of alcohol, he has different mocktails, Italian sodas, or anything else you would like. You two would probably cuddle up on the couch or in bed, either enjoying each other's company with a good book, listening to music, or maybe even a movie. Secondo is happy to share the evening with you in any way that you want. He simply just loves to bask in the sweet affection that you two share and remind himself that he deserves this love <3

Terzo- I imagine that quality time with Terzo can be many things. Like his older brother, he enjoys carnal acts, but also just existing together. I imagine that you two would spend some of your free time baking together. Terzo may be clumsy at times but he enjoys baking, especially if he has a personal taste tester. He would love to have you help him or just simply watch him enjoy his process. He loves to fill the time by asking you about your day, what you are excited or upset about, and anything that you would like to talk about. During all of it, he just has a sweet love drunk smile on his face. When whatever he was making is finally ready for you both to eat, he makes sure to give you the first bite, and he wants you to be honest about the taste, texture, and overall experience. He is extremely interested in your thoughts and loves to hear you in general. He always makes sure to take note of your criticism or praise so that if he ever recreates or remakes anything it is the same quality or better. After you two have shared your little treat, he likes to make you a hot chocolate. I know he might not seem like the type, but I know in my heart that he enjoys hot cocoa. Makes it from scratch every time and uses the same recipe that Primo used when he and Secondo were little. Adds any toppings that you like to yours and insist that he made it with love. You both cuddle and enjoy your delicious hot cocoa with either him reading you a book, you reading him one, enjoying some music, or a movie that you enjoy. He adores these evenings where you both can be yourselves, with no expectations or chores to do. You both just get to be close and love each other and know that you are cherished by your beloved Papa <3

Copia-  With Copia, I just have to mention his beloved rat babies. If you are in love with Copia I just imagine you spending the little downtime he allows himself to be with his sweet fur babies. You two are just sitting with them all, giving them the love, treats, and attention that each little cutie deserves. He loves this, he gets to not only decompress and relax with his Amore but he also gets to be with his beloved pets. The rats all have their personalities and love to run around you both, so happy that you are home. If you wear hoodies or =clothing with bigger pockets they love to crawl in and take little naps with their beloved parents because congratulations you are the co-parent to these little rats. After they have their food, cuddles, zoomies, and a few snacks they go back into their cage to rest and cuddle with each other. With your kids all in bed, you both get ready for bed yourselves. You either help Copia with his Papal paints if he hasn't already taken them off or maybe take a quick shower together or separately. Either way, when you both are ready to relax for the evening you grab some of Copia's beloved Juice boxes and relax in bed. Whether your evening ends with playing some video games, watching him play or you both playing, watching a movie, or just cuddling in bed before you sleep, Copia reminds you just how much he adores you. This is where he can let himself be Copia, not just Papa and he is so grateful that you see the real him. He loves to spend his evenings with his favorite person, all cuddled up and cozy in bed, knowing that he is loved and adored.<3

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 The Papas and Copia and how they react to your compliments. 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 Compliments 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Cardinal Copia x GN!Reader, the paragraphs for the other Papas can also be interpreted as Papa x GN!Reader 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 No smut but mentions of sex in Copia's section so 18+ only, MINORS DNI 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 588 words. 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 My body is too warm and it's making sitting in front of my laptop uncomfortable so I'm using today to take a break from writing Mary fics. I've v briefly proofread this to make sure I don't use gendered pronouns or terms for reader but if I've missed any lmk! 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

When Primo receives a compliment from you, it’s usually waved away dismissively as he mumbles something along the lines of ‘you waste these words on an old man like me instead of one who would appreciate them more’. It doesn’t stop you giving them to him though, now written on a note attached to a new plant or flower you’ve bought for him to plant in the gardens so he can’t brush them off. He always finds you afterwards, lightly chastising you for being far too kind and generous to a man of his age. Every time, without fail, you press a kiss to his cheek and tell him to stop being silly. It makes him smile fondly.

Secondo pretends not to be affected by the compliments you give him. You tell him he doesn’t need to put on such an act around you, and yet he does it anyway. He grunts, muttering about how you’re exaggerating and trying to be modest. Your compliments are always accompanied with a pot of tea served with his favourite cups and saucers and a plate of amaretti biscuits that you’ve freshly baked that morning. Sure, he grumbles about being distracted from his duties whenever you enter with a tray laden with biscuits and beverages, but he makes sure to thank you before you leave every single time, lips pressed to your forehead in gratitude as he promises to thank you properly later.

Compliments between you and Terzo become a competition. You’ll engage in compliment combat each time you cross one another in the corridors, lashing one another with kind words and affection until one of you smiles or laughs first. It used to startle the siblings of sin when they passed you both in the corridor during these times but now it’s such a common occurrence that they merely shake their heads and chuckle before continuing on with whatever they were doing prior to encountering you both. Terzo has won more of these compliment battles than you have and you’re okay with that. Just getting to see him smile and bask in the affection you offer him brings you an endless amount of joy.

At first, Copia didn’t deal with compliments too well. Each time you complimented his outfit or his moustache or even something his office space he’d bristle, assuming you were making fun of him like your fellow cardinals used to before he became the frontman for Ghost. It took months of building up trust and friendship for him to realise that you were being genuine and honest, showering him with affectionate words and reassuring smiles. Lingering eye contact and the touch of an arm that lasted longer than perhaps was appropriate between the two of you became more and more frequent.

Eventually, the kind words and compliments you exchanged resulted in him bedding you. Featherlight touches exchanged between two cardinals pining after one another became caresses and kisses in places that had you arching your back, aching for him. Whispers and giggles became moans and whimpers as you explored one another’s bodies in the dead of night, sneaking around the cardinals’ quarters and other places in the abbey after curfew. Shared books passed to one another innocently in the library became an excuse to meet up there after hours and desecrate the librarian’s desk with your head between his thighs and vice versa. What had started out as acts of kindness turned into a relationship and sexual encounters that were etched into your memory long after they’d happened.  

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

What would the Emeritus brothers be like with a bilingual s/o? Specifically, one whose mother tongue they don’t speak? Like Spanish, Portuguese, or Mandarin, to name a few examples.

Thanks for opening up requests! Love your blog! 🖤

Thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!! <3 

Papas with a Bilingual S/O 

You did ask for an S/O with a mother tongue the Papas did not speak, so I’m going to follow that guideline. But I DID just want to add a fun fact in there as well! 

The Papas are actually all polyglots, meaning they can all speak multiple languages! Some more than others for one reason or another. When it comes to being a demonic pope with legions in so many parts of the world, you HAVE to speak so many different ones! However, this doesn’t mean they all speak every language to exist (except maybe Primo.) 

I also kept the reader’s native tongue vague so you can apply whichever you’d like! :)

-

Papa Nihil: He might speak several languages, but he’s not exactly the best at picking up new ones these days. Sometimes you can’t teach an old dog new tricks… but that doesn’t mean he won’t try! Whether he learns your native tongue or not, Nihil is happy to listen to you speak. Nihil adores when you playfully teach him new words or phrases. He is happy to use the best ones on you! Nihil is happy to know enough of your first language to convey his feelings or know yours. So expect him to at least know how to tell you he loves you, or that he wants you to have a good day. Truthfully, when it comes to his love of horror movies he might ask you to translate certain iconic scenes into your native tongue! And best of all? He will be putty in your hands when you flirt in your native language! Daily you get a lot of, “Amore, how do you say *insert random mundane word* in-?” Random words he has asked about so far; TV, blanket, carrot, window, Ghoul, screw driver, and swimming.

Papa I: You would be hard pressed to find a language Papa couldn’t speak, or at the very least understand everything you were saying. Papa is a legendary linguist within the Ministry, and has led many apprentices in keeping dead languages alive. But that doesn’t mean his verbal speaking is perfect in every tongue! So he was delighted when you were open to letting him learn more from you with your first language. These impromptu lessons are actually what caused you both to become close friends and eventually a couple! Papa appreciates all your efforts in teaching him, and he is a fast learner. He has even gone so far as to encourage you to teach lessons to the siblings of sin, if you were so inclined! In your daily lives he will always speak to you or leave you thoughtful notes in your first language. The only difficulty he has is learning slang and common sayings… but you find it both hilarious and a bit adorable when he tries!  

Papa II: Funnily enough, you both don’t know each other’s first language. Most of your communication has been through English! So it was a fun time for you both when you became closer to deciphering each other’s native tongue. You mutually wanted to be able to understand each other in all three languages; Your first language, his Italian, and English! So it was a lot of work and fun together. Papa absolutely loves teaching you Italian every chance he can. Claiming that it just sounds so much better rolling off of your tongue. And in turn, he cherishes every time you sit in his lap to teach him more of your language. Papa picks it up rather fast, even if it’s not entirely perfect. You both eventually know enough to hold a conversation in each other’s mother tongue! Though Papa prefers letting you get to speak, no matter what the language is. He just finds your voice soothing overall. He also happily teaches you how to curse someone out so you can use it in the ministry! You laughed at the generous offer! 

Papa III: Ever the romantic, Papa finds it incredibly charming when you flaunt your linguistic skill around him! Language is such a beautiful and fascinating subject! There is nothing more interesting to him than learning how each different language communicates- especially when it comes to poetry and music. He is wrapped around your finger each time you use your first language to flirt with him. Papa will constantly encourage you to try and seduce him with your words (even if you only pretend. He’ll never know what you’re ACTUALLY saying if you say it with enough flirty tones!) While proficient in the languages he uses regularly for his Papal duties, it takes him a little longer than his eldest brother to pick up your first language. But that doesn’t stop him from trying! Papa will go out of his way to make sure he knows the basics so he can always tell you the most important phrases of your mother tongue! Such as ‘Good Morning/Night’, ‘Thank you’, all the pick up lines, and eventually ‘I love you.’ Though the majority of the time, he uses it to flirt with you or gossip. 

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: One of the original reasons you fell for Copia was that he went out of his way to learn your native tongue when you first became friends. According to him, you always exclusively used Italian when speaking with him. It was only fair that he learned your first language too! Copia was a hobbyist linguist on top of being an official tome translator for the ministry at one point. So he was happy to learn a new language to converse with you! As a couple, this is one of his favorite ways to bond with you. He sees it as a chance to grow closer to you while perfecting his grammar and pronunciations! Typically, Copia will switch to your native tongue when you are alone or at home. But he’s also not above utilizing it in public when he doesn’t want others to eavesdrop… or just shit talk someone in the room he can’t stand.

[lilspacewolfie]

Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader

Spawned from pure self-indulgence. I've been through more hospital visits these last four weeks than I have my entire life. I want someone to bundle me up and make my hand better. I hate hospitals and operations *sobs*. Enjoy nonetheless!

Content: 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)

This man will do everything in his power to make sure you’re looked after and relaxed. 

Tea for days! He will try different flavours until he finds the one you like.

Dives headfirst into deep research as to which herbs help your injury heal, as well as calm your nerves. He knows his plants well, but he wants to know more. You deserve the best of the best.

Insists on going with you for infirmary visits even when you tell him you’re fine (you’re not really, but you just don't want him to worry.)

He will anyway. 

Chronic worrier, especially given his age. 

He takes his health VERY seriously, yours too! The Ministry has the best medical care around. 

If you need a wound cleaned, stitches taken out, or other medicines, it's the place to get it. 

Primo will be with you as much as he’s able to, even if that means he’s sitting for a long time while you’re being treated. 

When you’re free and discharged—bandaged, bruised and probably feeling sore, he’ll take you back to his room for some TLC. 

Will have a bath or shower with you, (in his jungle of a washroom), depending on what you prefer and smother you with all your favourite scents.  

He’s a deeply caring individual and shows it openly. 

Will speak gently to you, whisper sweetly and ensure you’re not overstimulated more than you have been. 

“Shh, I know. I know amore. It’ll be over soon, just breathe for me.”

He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits. 

You can squeeze his hand if you want. 

If you need space for a bit after everything, he’ll gladly give it. 

If not, prepare to receive a lot of kisses, especially on your forehead (a lot of them, like… SO many.)

He will help you bathe if you’re unable to, running a foaming washcloth over your skin carefully. 

Let him wash your hair! It’s one of the things he adores doing for you!

Once you’re washed, warm and feeling more relaxed it’s time for more tea in bed with a snack if you want one!

He insists. Even if you don't feel like eating, try to drink something for him <3

“It will help you feel good and relax, Il mio fiore.” (My flower)

Fluids are important (wink-wonk).

Reminds you to take your meds like clockwork (always with tea and water)

You’re his petalo (petal) and he loves you dearly. 

Will wrap you up in the mountain of blankets and faux furs he has on his lush bed. He’s old, he feels the cold more than others. At least he has you to keep him warm.

Secondo hates when you’re hurt/hurting in any capacity. 

Even if it's something minor, he’ll worry about it to the point where he loses sleep over it. 

He’s a big, brooding mother hen. 

The Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier doesn’t stop at Primo.

This man wants you to be okay and it kills him when you’re not. 

Will also go with you to the infirmary and stay with you. 

The staff always find him a little intimidating, but they know he’s just worried sick. He’s kind to everyone, but honestly, he won't speak much unless spoken to. 

“Are you alright, mio tesoro?” Is what he mainly asks, his voice so low it's close to a rumble. 

Tries his best to make you feel relaxed. 

Will make really, god-awful dad jokes that are so bad you do laugh. 

He will quietly hold your hand the entire time, rubbing his bare fingers over our knuckles. 

You rarely see him remove his gloves in public, but he HAS to be touching you. He insists. 

He’s had enough knocks and breaks in his life to know how fragile the human body can be, but also how incredible it is at self-repair. 

That doesn’t mean he views you as a fragile thing that needs to be wrapped in wool, but he loves you so deeply he would if you let him. 

He admires your strength and resolve as you put up with being poked and prodded (by needles or with doctors.) 

Once you’re released from care, good luck getting him to be anywhere less than within touching distance. 

You’re getting a kiss. Lots of them. Mostly chaste and gentle. 

You can tell it's because he worries about hurting you. 

He relaxes a bit more when you kiss him HARD and bite at his bottom lip. 

Will also help you bathe and shower. Again, touching distance. Just let him be near you for his own sanity. 

Though he wouldn’t be upset if you need some space. He’s very understanding if you’re overstimulated. 

Will linger outside the door in case you need anything. 

Let him dry you off and dress you in comfortable clothes. He can see you that way. 

He can see you’re still with him and that you’re safe. 

He’ll touch you slowly, running his large hands over your skin. 

Will spoon you once you’re in bed or let you curl into him. 

He’ll bury his nose in your hair, breathe you in and say a wordless prayer to Lucifer that you recover quickly. 

“Ti amo.” You hear him whisper as he presses a kiss to your forehead and strokes your hair.

Only falls asleep once he’s sure you have, holding you close the entire night. 

Terzo. Oh, Terzo. 

Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier? Check. Turn it up to eleven. 

Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries. 

He’s a fair mix of his brothers, both gentle and occasionally stoic given the shape you’re in. 

If it's something minor, he’ll try to play it off with a bit of humour like he tends to do. He’ll make bad jokes (oh ho, you thought Secondo’s were bad just wait for this.) 

If it’s something you need an operation for, this man will be silently out of his mind. *insert any internally screaming gif here*

He takes pride in his appearance, but you’ll start to notice cracks—dishevelled hair, a button not done up or a smudge of his paint. 

It would worry you more if he didn’t have Omega or one of his brothers to make sure he’s drinking and eating regularly.

Tries to hide his stress. Fails. Rinse and repeat. 

He doesn’t want you to worry about him, you’re the one in pain, about to be put under and Lucifer… What's he going to do if something happens?

He loves you. Adores you. You’re his life.

He knows how much you hate being stuck in hospitals and it pains him to see you stressed. The last thing he wants to do is add to that, so he’ll play it cool. 

When you go in he’s pacing the halls.

Rest assured, the healthcare of the Ministry has you in safe hands. 

It puts Terzo at ease, but don't expect him to leave your side when everything is over. He will sit at your bedside, kiss your knuckles and stroke your hair. 

Let him touch you. Just let him. 

He’s been through so much heartache in his life. 

Will kiss each of your fingers and whisper sweet words to you. 

“You’ll be okay, vita mia. Cuore mio. I’m here. I’m with you.” (My life. My heart.)

Maybe he’ll hum some songs too. 

You’re his everything. 

Once you’re ready and well enough to leave, you’re getting pampered to hell and back. This man worships the ground you walk on. 

Whatever you want it's not too much. A bath? A shower? Just to get into bed and fall asleep? Terzo’s right there with you.

Dinner in his massive, plush bed with your favourite movie.

When you’re ready to sleep he’ll plaster himself to you. He would crawl inside your skin if he could. 

Fitful sleeper. Wakes up a few times just to make sure you’re ok. 

Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away. 

Stroke his hair. He’s a sucker for that!

*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*

He’s learned bad habits from the Papas it seems. 

Worrier. Yes, it's chronic. Seriously, are we sure this isn’t like the flu?

Paces a lot. 

Good luck getting him to sit still. 

If he's not pacing, he’s as close to you as physics will allow. 

Lots of touching. Will rest his head by your hip if he’s tired from all that pacing. 

Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.  

He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles. 

All that stress tires him out. 

“Mi dispiace, amore. Non sto aiutando,” he’ll whisper brokenly. (I'm sorry, amore. I'm not helping.)

You two probably end up curled up on the bed of the infirmary together if you have been waiting a while. A nap won't hurt. 

You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.

The angle is a bit awkward. 

The sleep helps but he’s still going to be stressed when he wakes up. 

Will get you anything you need. A drink or food, perhaps one of the really nice yogurts they do at the visitor's cantine. 

Will ask the nurses and doctors SO many questions. He likes to be informed. Gets stressed if anything is unclear. 

Maybe he should be in this infirmary bed and not you. 

Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged. 

You’re both taking a long, hot bath or shower. 

He wants to wash you down so he can see you and make sure you’re ok. Lots of tender kisses to your skin. 

Ends up with you in his arms under the hot water just swaying together. 

You’re wearing his clothes. No, not just because he likes how they look on you but because they’re baggy and won't irritate your skin *cough*. Sure Copia. 

He’ll order your favourite food and you can watch a movie in his room together. 

Will mother hen you, constantly ask if you need anything, and make sure your water glass is full. 

He probably will cry. It’s just been so much. 

You can cry together if you want. You both understand. 

Also like clockwork when it comes to medication (if you’re taking any.) 

Curls up in bed with you. You both sleep like the dead after such a long, stressful day. 

Breakfast in bed when you wake up.

*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*

Copia might not be of the Emeritus blood, but unholy shit does the curse of being a chronic worrier catch like wildfire. 

He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong. 

Will put on a brave face. But underneath he’s still the cardinal he was years back. 

He’ll worry and fret and pace. There's no changing some things. 

While he’s outwardly less anxious, this poor man has so much weighing on his shoulders after he took over to front the band. 

Inwardly it's chaos. 

His hair is never quite as smoothed back as it normally is and his paint is a touch worn. 

There are some things you can't change about a man. Not really. 

Prepare to be coddled, again. The mother hen has never left the coop. 

He’s going to pamper you when he gets you back to his room. Of course, you’re staying with him, he’s not letting you go. 

So. Many. Kisses. 

This man loves kissing you. He adores you so. 

A bath in his spacious tub is just what the doctor ordered. You lay against him and relax in the dim with only the light of candles. 

Finally lets himself cry. 

You shush him, kiss him and remind him that you love him and that you’re ok. 

He loves you so much he can't even express it. The thought of losing you kills him. 

He tries to push your hands away when you take a cloth to his paint. You’re the one who's been hurt and poked at all day, he’s supposed to be caring for you!

Eventually relents because you both know you need this. 

More kisses and mutual washing. You love seeing how his skin pinkens across his cheek, arms and back. It brings out the pretty freckles all over his body. 

When you both get into bed, tangled up again, Copia will whisper how much he loves you until he’s too tired to talk anymore. 

You both sleep like the dead.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Flowers (Phantom x GN! Reader) FLUFF

WARNINGS: Recreational smoking 🌿, doesn't go into detail, all fluff, Primo being a dad, Phantom being sweet, cute, and nice. Just a good old innocent mutual crush. Not proofread, sorry if there's any mistakes with keeping it GN, please feel free to let me know if I missed anything so I can correct it!

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning Papa." You greet Primo with a smile, carefully setting down the cup of tea you had brought him on his work bench.

"Good morning il mio Bambino." He responds softly, completely engrossed in his task of pruning one of his many bonsai trees. "When you get a moment my dear would you be able to do me a small favor?" You breathed out an amused sigh. You had been Primo's assistant for a while, enjoying the slow pace of working with the eldest Emeritus brother.

"Papa, you don't need to ask." You giggle, bringing a smile to the older man's face. "Anything you need I'll take care of, don't worry."

"You truly are too good to me." He shoots you a wink causing you to playfully roll your eyes. "There's some produce that needs harvesting in the greenhouse. I was hoping I could have your assistance collecting it all."

"Of course. Let me just make sure I don't have any paperwork to file first." You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze as you pass, leaving him to finish his pruning. You fell into the chair at your desk with a sigh, flipping your letter opener around in your hand to sort through the daily mail. You paused as something caught your eye. A single sunflower sat at the edge of your desk. You picked it up curiously, a smile finding its way to your lips as you spun the stem between your fingers. "Thank you for the flower Papa!" You call into his office. You hear the scraping of his chair against the wooden floor, Primo emerging in the doorway moments later.

You glance over your shoulder as you hear him chuckle. "That flower isn't from me, my dear." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Perhaps you've caught the attention of someone special, hm?" You couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks as you giggled.

"I doubt that," you state with a wistful tone as you continue to admire the flower in your hand, "I'm pretty plain compared to a lot of the other Siblings. This was probably supposed to be a gift for you if anything."

"I'd like you to keep it regardless." He gently pats the top of your head. "And you are not plain. You have a smile that could light up any room, a laugh so melodic it would rival Cirrus' piano. You're a kind, beautiful soul inside and out. Not to mention your Papa's favorite." He teases with a wink.

"Thank you Papa." He holds out his arm for you to take.

"Come il mio bambino, we have a lot of work to do." You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to prattle on about whatever came to his mind as you made your way to the greenhouse together. No matter the task, working with Primo always managed to put a smile on your face. Over your time as his assistant you had grown quite close to him, Primo had become somewhat of a father figure in your life. The two of you would sit and chat about everything while you worked; filling each other in on the gossip you heard around the Abbey, Primo telling you stories of when he was in his prime, both of you unwinding with a nice cup of tea at the end of the day in his cozy office. Today was no different. You were both droning on about how, somehow, Sister Imperator had been even more stern than usual lately.

"Maybe you should offer her a joint, it might help her stop being so uptight all the time." Primo chuckles at your statement.

"You might be right, I heard she used to be quite the stoner in her day." You both paused at the sound of the greenhouse door slowly creaking open. Primo began to stand, you motioned for him not to trouble himself.

"I'll go see who it is Papa, it's probably just one of the Siblings from the kitchen." You rise with a groan, meticulously pulling off your work gloves before stuffing them into your pocket. As you approached the entrance you were met with the sight of a Ghoul curiously looking over the plants. He froze the moment he picked up on your presence, like a child getting caught doing something they weren't supposed to be. His shoulders relaxed as he realized it was you who emerged from the greenery and not the eldest Emeritus. "Phantom?"

"Hey." He returns your greeting with a sharp smile, fangs glinting in the bright afternoon sun that glimmered through the glass roof. "I was sent to ask Primo about some of his tea." He nervously shifts his weight between his feet.

"Oh, he's right back here actually." You motioned for him to follow you. Phantom takes a couple long strides, allowing himself to walk by your side. "You help in the greenhouse too?" He asks genuinely. You nod, giving him a small smile.

"I work pretty much wherever Primo needs me." You chuckle softly. "If I'm being honest I'd rather be out here than at my desk, it gets awfully stuffy in there sometimes." You whisper to him, as if it was a secret just for the two of you. You found Primo still diligently harvesting the produce you had left him with. "Papa, Phantom needs to ask you about some tea."

"Papa," Phantom bows his head slightly in a polite greeting, "Copia sent me. He's having, uh… that problem again. He said you'd know what I meant." His eyes widened slightly as he waited for Primo to remember what particular ailment he was referring to.

"Right," Primo claps his hands together. "I'll go grab the senna." Once Primo is out of view Phantom's attention immediately shifts back to you.

"What are you two harvesting?" You smile at his curiosity, aside from Primo and the other Siblings that helped in the gardens no one ever seemed interested about the work you did in here.

"Berries mostly." He trails closely behind you as you return to the plant you had been previously seated in front of. "The raspberries came out wonderful this year, I don't think we've ever had this big of a crop." Phantom kneels next to you in the dirt, eyes darting between your hands as they worked and your face.

"Can I ask a silly question?" He inquires sheepishly.

"There are no silly questions." You give him a reassuring smile, gently bumping your shoulder against his.

"What do raspberries taste like?" You paused. You had gotten so used to seeing Phantom dart around the Abbey that you had forgotten he had only been summoned a little while ago. Something as simple and well enjoyed by you he had never experienced before.

"Would you like to try one?" He nods eagerly. You search through the bush, looking for the best looking berry you could find. You carefully held it between your fingers as you offered it to him. "Now, I'm going to warn you, they have seeds and they're kind of fuzzy." He squints at the fruit, bright violet eyes analyzing it closely. He takes the berry between his teeth, taking extra care to make sure his fangs didn't accidentally graze your fingers. He chewed it slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

"It's good… sweet." He smiles proudly at his small triumph. His gaze travels to the top of your head. "You, uh, have a leaf." He points to your hair. You attempt to brush it away on your own but you could tell by the expression he was giving you that it was still there. He cautiously reaches towards you, untangling it from your strands before discarding it on the ground. His eyes scan over your features, a smile coming to his lips as he brushes the disturbed hair back into place. "Beautiful." You let out a flustered giggle. You both jump as Primo speaks up.

"This should take care of Copia's problem." He holds out a jar of herbs to Phantom. Seeing both of your bashful states he pauses. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" He gives you a smug grin.

"No Papa, we were just talking." You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you spoke.

"Thank you for the tea Papa. (Y/N), hopefully I'll see you soon." He flashes you another dazzling smile before making his leave. You couldn't stop your eyes from trailing after him as he left, turning back to Primo once he fully stepped out of sight. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the shit eating grin he wore 

"Don't look at me like that." You tried to hide your flustered state.

"I see we fancy ourselves a Quintessence Ghoul, do we?" He returns to the plant at your side with a laugh.

"We were just talking Papa." You reiterate again to try and get your point across.

"Just talking wouldn't cause the two of you to jump like that my dear. I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of." He addresses the matter casually.

"Papa!" You exclaim through a giggle. 

"Fine, fine." He accepts defeat, holding up his hands in surrender. "But, when you do finally come to terms with the fact you're attracted to him, I'll be here to talk." He smiles patiently.

You laugh and shake your head, "I don't have a crush on Phantom, it's just…" you trailed off for a moment. You couldn't exactly put into words how you felt. You had always been pretty close with all of the Ghouls, so when the newest members were summoned you were one of the first to be introduced. When you had first met Phantom he was timid, still feeling somewhat awkward in his more humanoid form.

"Walk me through what you're thinking tesoro, maybe I can help you sort things out." You both kept busy as you talked, knowing if you actually allowed yourself to focus on the words spilling from your lips you would end up overthinking.

"He's very easy for me to talk to. It took me a while to form the friendships that I have, but with him it almost felt effortless. The first night I met him there was something about him that was just so… captivating. He was unlike any person or Ghoul I had ever met." You explain.

"You two definitely seemed to hit it off pretty quickly. Up until he met you I don't think I had ever really seen Phantom interact with any of the Siblings, he mostly kept to himself. Perhaps there are a few members of his pack he's close to, but compared to the rest of Copia's Ghouls he seems a bit reserved." Primo remarks.

"That's the thing Papa… he's not." You thought back to one of the times it had just been the two of you. "Phantom is loud, boisterous, confident." His infectious laugh echoed through your memories, bringing a smile to his face. It wasn't uncommon for Phantom to coincidentally stumble across you smoking alone in the garden, enjoying the twinkling starlight as the pungent smell of herb filled the air. Being with him only added to the dizzying head rush you had. Gazing into his eyes felt like you were running through a field of lavender, his fingers bumping against yours making your pulse thrum in your ears, entirely consumed by the image of him mere inches away from you. The two of you in your own world together as you resisted the urge to lean into him. You were snapped from your day dream as a thorn pricked your finger, you winced slightly, letting out an exasperated sigh as reality set in once more. "Him and I just get along really well, that's all." Primo just smiled knowingly. He had seen that far off look in your eyes many times before; pining Siblings stumbling into his confessional to pour their heart and soul out to him over a friend who they swore would never be anything more than just that. You didn't say much for the rest of the afternoon, the memory of Phantom playing repeatedly in your mind as you tried to convince yourself none of that mattered.

"I'll see you in the morning." Primo waves over his shoulder as the two of you part ways in the halls. You headed back to his office, having a few things to check on before fully retiring for the evening. You look behind you as you hear another set of footsteps join your own in the empty corridor. You were a bit surprised to see none other than the Ghoul occupying your every thought round the corner. You smile at the sight of him, pausing to let him catch up.

"Copia wanted me to bring Primo a thank you note for the tea." You found yourself shoving your hands deep in your pockets, the slight brush of his hand against yours sending a jolt through your body, causing you to have an urge you didn't dare give into.

"Primo decided to turn in a little early tonight…" you trail off, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "But, I am heading down to his office now. I wouldn't mind the company if you'd like to walk with me."

"I would love to." He smiles down at you. You blush, quickly darting your eyes down to your feet so hopefully he wouldn't catch your flustered expression. "You seem nervous." You remarked how that was a statement, not a question. You flashed him your most convincing smile, trying to shove your anxiety away so he wouldn't worry.

"It's just been a long day. I'm not really feeling fully… myself, I guess." You found yourself wanting to be honest with him the more you spoke. There was something about being with him that made you feel so undeniably safe that you couldn't lie about how you were feeling. The question flashed through your mind about whether or not Quintessence Ghouls possessed some type of mind control power to make you tell the truth. You noticed him glance over at you out of the corner of your eye. "I promise it's nothing to worry about." You slid into your chair as you arrived at Primo's office, Phantom perching himself on the edge of the desk at your side.

"Have you eaten?" He suddenly chimes. Your stomach decided to answer before you had a chance to, giving off a low angry growl over your hunger. "I'll take that as a no." Phantom chuckles. You return his laugh as you open some of the new letters that had appeared on your desk. You groaned as you recognized Sister Imperator's neat script.

"What now?" Phantom's brow furrowed at your distress. "Great, another meeting with Nihil, Papa's going to be thrilled." You drop your head into your desk with a groan. You felt Phantom's warm head slide across your back, rubbing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades. You reluctantly picked up the receiver of the old rotary phone, dialing the number for Primo's quarters as you propped your chin up in your hand. "Hi Papa." He sighed at the tone you greeted him with, already knowing what was in store for him. "We have a meeting with your Father." You held the receiver away from your ear as a loud string of Italian curses exploded out of it. "I'll be there in ten minutes." You inform him before hanging up. "I'm sorry to run off-"

"It's alright." He cuts you off, grimacing slightly as he realized he had done so. "Are you going to be in the garden tonight?"

You nodded slowly, "probably. I'm sure I'm going to need to unwind after this." You stand with a groan. You collect your belongings, smiling at Phantom as you turn to leave. In a moment of boldness, more than likely brought in by the aggravation of having to deal with Sister, you paused. "These meetings usually take about two hours. I'd really like to see you tonight if you have time."

"I'll be there." He responds eagerly. You try your best to hide your excited smile as you hurry off to meet Primo. The second you entered his quarters he noticed your change in attitude.

"Well, what do we have here? You seem awfully happy my dear." You met Primo's gaze in his reflection. His papal paint half done, still dressed in his gardening clothes. "Might I venture a guess this has something to do with a certain Ghoul?" You knew there was no lying to him in your current state.

"I may or may not be seeing Phantom after our meeting tonight." You spit out your statement hurriedly, knowing he was going to make a big deal about it.

"Hm," he hums, grinning at you, "sounds like a nice little date to unwind after a stressful day, no?" You haphazardly comb your fingers through your hair, trying your best to appear somewhat decent.

"It's not a date Papa, just two friends meeting up." He chuckles at your response.

"Tell me tomorrow if your feelings on that subject have changed." You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief for how sure he was of himself. You helped him shrug into his Papal robes before heading to the never ending meeting. Every second felt like an hour, your eyes practically glued to the clock as you waited for the meeting to come to a close. 

"You are dismissed." The second Nihil groaned out the words you bolted for the door, not missing Primo's amused expression on your way out. You headed straight for the garden, expertly winding your way to the spot where you and Phantom always managed to run into each other. A smile instantly spread across your features at the sight of him. He had set out a blanket in the pathway, a small spread of various foods set out for the two of you.

"What's all this?" You ask with a soft laugh as you approach him.

His eyes darted to the ground nervously, you noticed him swaying on his heels slightly as he spoke. "Well, I know you haven't eaten so I wanted to bring you some food. I didn't know what you liked so I asked Mountain and well…" He trails off, motioning to the spontaneous picnic. "I was thinking maybe you and I could have some dinner together?" 

"I would love to have dinner with you, Phantom." He beams at your response, excitement immediately overtaking his nerves as he motions for you to sit. You sat and talked with Phantom for hours, your body and mind feeling lighter the longer you spent with him. As time passed the two of you eventually cleared off the blanket, opting to lay side by side to gaze up at the stars, a lit joint passed between the two of you. You watched the smoke curl high into the air, the warmth of Phantom's body seeking into your shoulder.

"I really like spending time with you." He speaks up suddenly. You blush at his statement, feeling his fingers ghost over yours both of your hands intertwined carefully. You didn't need to respond, he knew you felt the same way. The two of you took turns pointing out different constellations you recognized until, eventually, you decided you should probably get back to your dorm. Phantom's fingers remained intertwined with yours as he stood, hoisting you from the ground after him. You stumble slightly, falling into his chest. You felt the quick, steady rhythm of his heartbeat under his palm. His free hand lands on your waist to steady you. Your eyes snapped up to his, they glowed a beautiful violet in the moonlight.

"Sorry." You giggle nervously. He chuckles, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

"No need to apologize, are you alright?" You nod, both of you blushing and mumbling out an apology as you realized you were still holding onto each other, taking a moment to separate. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence through the halls until you reached your dorm. You stood across from each other in front of your door, nervously swaying in your heels. "That was fun, maybe we can do that again sometime."

"I'd like that." Both of you searched for something, anything at all to say, to stay with each other just a few moments longer. But nothing came to mind. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He smiles at you, beginning to turn away. You reach out, catching his wrist in your hand. He looks back at you, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You stand on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Phantom." You take one final glance at him before you slip into your room. You fell into your bed with a sigh, dragging your hands down your face. "He's so handsome." You groan to your empty room. You let your arms fall out to the side, staring blankly up at your system as you remembered Primo's words from earlier. "I've witnessed my fair share of crushes in my day, it's nothing to be ashamed of my dear." You grimaced, that old man really could read you like an open book. You got ready for bed, dreading talking Primo tomorrow that he was right. But you needed advice. You had never taken the whole romance thing into consideration. Sure, you had dated a few people in the past, but none of those relationships really went past the honeymoon phase or initial hookup. You could already tell that if by some miracle Phantom did reciprocate your feelings this wouldn't be a simple fling. You woke with a start, getting into your overalls as you prepared for a long day weeding the flowerbeds. As you entered the garden you found Primo already waiting for me, a cup of tea waiting for you on the bench next to him.

"Good morning il mio bambino." He greets you with a smile. "These were left on your desk this morning." He picked up three white roses, all tied together with a purple ribbon.

"Was there any note?" He shook his head. You held the flowers to your nose, inhaling their sweet scent with a smile. "I'm going to put these in some water." You quickly run to the greenhouse, placing the blooms in a vase so you could take them home later before returning to Primo. You picked up the tea cup he had set out for you, sitting by his side and enjoying the stillness of the early morning air.

"So, how did last night go?" He prods.

You sigh, "it was perfect, I don't know what else to say about it." You chuckle.

"Are you still trying to keep up the façade that you're just friends?" He asks before taking a long sip of his tea.

"As much as I would like to, I don't think I can." You admit with a bashful laugh. "I've definitely got a bit of a crush on him." You spent a good portion of your morning catching Primo up on the events of the night prior.

He looks at you with an amused smile, "dare I say I think he might be feeling the same towards you my dear." He grins.

"I hope so, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to hide this from him." Primo collects your cup from you as you finish your drink.

"Well you'll have plenty of time to think things over tesoro. Enjoy the flirting, romance is supposed to be fun, you should be basking in the glow of young love." You blush, shaking your head as you playfully roll your eyes. 

"I'm going to get started out here, I'll come check on you in a couple hours." He pays your head before heading to his office.

"Don't work too hard." He calls over his shoulder as he disappears from the garden, allowing you to get to work.

"Well what do we have here." You jump slightly as Mountain bounds up beside you, a basket of vegetables perched on his hip. 

"Hey Mount." Your hand claps into his as he helps you out of the dirt.

"Primo's got you on weeding duty today?" He asks, a bit confused. Weeding was usually a job saved for new Siblings, Primo believing in a hierarchy of sorts until they got settled in.

"I needed a task that would let me reflect on my feelings." You preach back to him in your best Papa impression. "He's had some suspicions that are proving to be correct."

"Everything alright?" He motions for you to walk with him.

"Yeah." You trail off for a moment. "If I tell you something, can you promise it'll stay between us?"

"Of course, you know you can always talk to me." He nudges you.

"So, there's been someone leaving flowers on my desk the past couple days. Which is super sweet, but I need to find out who it is. Recently I've… come to terms with the fact I have feelings for someone." You chose your words carefully, hesitant to give away who the object of your affection was despite the fact you knew you would end up telling him regardless. "Then on top of that I don't want to say anything to this other person because they might not feel the same."

"First off, I wouldn't worry about confessing your feelings. You're amazing, whoever it is would be so lucky to have earned your affection. Regardless of the answer I'm sure everything will work out for the best. And if you want to know who's getting you flowers, maybe hideout in the greenhouse, they're bound to show up sooner or later." You nodded, that wasn't a terrible plan. "Now, the real question is, who's your secret crush?" He asks in a teasing tone.

"Promise you won't say anything?" You felt ridiculous, you felt like you were in high school all over again. You were a grown adult acting like a teenage girl. Yet you couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the mere thought of him.

"You have my word." Mountain promises.

"It's Phantom." He pauses, looking down at you with the biggest smile. "What?"

"You have to tell him, the two of you would be such a great couple!" You attempt to stutter out a response, Mountain's bluntness getting you completely fluttered. "Seriously though, I think it would be worth a shot telling him. You never know, maybe he could've been your secret admirer the whole time." He chuckles before the two of you parted ways. You headed to Primo's office, already having gotten a good deal of weeding done today. You pushed through his office door with a groan.

"Good afternoon my dear." He greets you jovially despite not looking up from his paperwork. A pair of thin, wire framed reading glasses sat perched on the end of his nose.

"Afternoon Papa, do you need me to take care of anything?" You refill his glass of water in his desk.

"Actually there is, I have a stack of hymns that need to be returned to the music hall. It took me a while to decide which ones I wanted for mass this week." He chortles. You accepted the stack from him with a smile. "When you return we'll have so tea, I believe you're due for a break."

"Of course Papa, I'll be right back." You read through the stack of sheet music as you walk through the halls, humming the melodies presented before you. You kicked open the door to the music hall with your foot. Your ears were instantly met with an all too familiar tune. You glanced up to find Phantom perched at the edge of the stage, his usual black guitar resting comfortably over his thigh as he rehearsed by himself. You sit yourself in one of the chairs in the room, watching as his fingers effortlessly moved across the fret board. He jumped slightly when he noticed you were there.

"Now how did I end up with such a pretty audience." He flashes his fangs at you as a wide grin spreads across his features.

"No matter how many times I see you play you always amaze me. You're so talented." You compliment him, earning a bashful chuckle that made your heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you." He stands, slowly striding over to you. "Now what brings you all the way down here." You held up the stack of papers.

"Primo needs these returned." Phantom takes the stack from you, knowing howuch of a pain organizing hymns tended to be.

"Want some help? I'm pretty familiar with how Cumulus has it set up in here." He offers.

"That would be great, I'd be here all night doing this by myself." You joke. Phantom clicks on the radio, some oldies station buzzing to life. He slings an arm over your shoulder, guiding you to the filing cabinet where the hymns were stored. Phantom seemed much more relaxed than normal today. He was consistently making jokes, the two of you idly chatting as you sorted everything away. "I love this song!" You exclaim, turning up the volume of the radio. You swayed around the room, humming along with the tune. Phantom chuckles at your excitement. He sets his remaining sheet music down, stepping closer to you so he could pull you towards him. You laugh, letting your fingers intertwine with his as the other slides over his shoulder. The two of you swayed along with the rhythm, Phantom giving your waist a gentle squeeze as he smiles down at you. He spun you around, causing you to giggle. "I didn't know you could dance."

"I wanted to learn to impress someone I like." He winks at you, both of you letting out bashful laughter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need you for band practice." Sodo leans against the doorframe, eyes darting between the two of you. Phantom reluctantly released his hold on you, holding your hand a few moments longer than necessary before joining the other Ghoul.

"I'll see you soon." He promises.

"Bye Phantom." You smile at him, waving to Sodo as they both leave. You finish filing away the hymns, clicking off the radio before heading back to Primo's office. The rest of the day passed in a blur, the feeling of Phantom holding you close clouding your every thought. You had decided to take Mountain's advice of waiting in the greenhouse, wanting to tell your secret admirer that you already had your eye on someone else. So, once you had said goodnight to Primo, you slipped out into the gardens in hope of capturing the mysterious florist in the act. You hid in a relatively secluded corner, tucked away behind some lush bushes where you couldn't be seen. Luckily you didn't have to wait long for them to show up. You heard their soft humming approach where you were. The soft snips of pruning shears as they collected their flowers. Your eyebrows knitted together as you realized that this was a voice you recognized. You peeked out from your hiding place. You smiled softly at the sight before you, stepping out into the open, you cleared your throat.

Phantom's eyes shot up to you, he froze as he realized he had been caught. He looks nervously between you and the flowers he held in his hand. His mouth fell open but no words came out at first. When, finally, through all his nerves he actually takes a moment to look at you. Your whole face lit up with a smile, eyes searching his face as you waited for him to say anything. He couldn't believe how cute you looked as you nervously wrung your hands. He stands, offering a small bouquet of red chrysanthemums. "I'm assuming you've been getting my flowers." He chuckles. You carefully take hold of the bunch, gazing it down in awe before placing them off to the side. Your body moved purely on instinct, arms sliding around Phantom's waist as you pulled him into a hug. He tenses up for a moment before wrapping you tightly in his embrace.

"They've all been beautiful." You mumble against his chest. You slowly separated from each other, his gaze catching yours. He smiles warmly at you, those gorgeous, glowing purple eyes causing you to melt.

He gently takes your chin between his fingers. "I feel… strange whenever I'm around you." He admits, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Strange how?" You ask through a smile, laughing as he tugs you closer.

"Sweaty mostly." He jokes. "You make me nervous in a good way." He continues to ponder out loud. "My heart starts to beat really fast, and all I can think about is reaching out to hold you… what kissing you would be like." You blush at his admission.

"You're more than welcome to find out for yourself." Your voice shook as you spoke, a soft breathy laugh punctuating your statement. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, his eyes tracing over every detail of your face.

"I'm sorry if I'm not any good at this." He chuckles.

"Just follow my lead." You tease, your hands sliding up his chest and into his hair as he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips crashed into yours. A satisfied hum left your lips as you pushed your body into his. He held you tightly, as if he let you go you would disappear before his eyes. The kiss started out slow, you slowly guided him through the motions. You had found out that Phantom was a very quick learner. His pace gradually increased, the kiss growing more passionate by the second as he grew addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. You pulled back with a gasp, both of you panting softly. You didn't even have time to catch your breath before Phantom's lips were back on yours, earning a surprised squeak as he pulled you flush against him one more. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged.

"That was nice." He chuckles. He places another few short pecks to your lips causing you to laugh softly.

"Does this mean you won't be bringing me flowers anymore?" You laugh.

"Sweetheart, I'll bring you flowers everyday if you want me to." He says with a smile as he pulls you in for another passionate kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @ramblingoak @kissingghouls @mustluvecho @belnovacaine @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @herripinkle @iamsarahsaysso @fleagutz @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @i-fondued

[ghuleh-witch]

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Mature Warnings: Dry humping, blood and blood-drinking Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia/Dracopia x GN Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia/Dracopia, GN Reader Additional Tags: Coming in pants, no beta Chapter Word Count: 1360 Summary: You allow Copia to bite you for the first time. Author's Note: I tried to keep this as gender-neutral as possible. Please let me know if I missed anything. AO3

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You look up into his mismatched eyes surrounded by coal black paint. Even in the dim candle-lit room, you could see the tenderness his eyes held. It caused your heart to melt into a puddle inside your chest. Despite being a predator of the night, Copia was too sweet for his own good at times. 

“You won’t,” you responded. “I trust you. I know you won’t do anything to hurt me. I want to do this for you.” A few days have gone by since Copia last fed, and from what he told you, he only got his hands on some pig’s blood that was supposed to be used in a ritual Terzo was planning. “I’ll replace it before he knows it’s missing,” he told you. The Siblings trained to be donors for the vampires in the ministry were either scheduled off or busy with others, leaving Copia to either hunt for animal blood or find another willing donor. 

And you wanted to play the part of willing donor.

“Let me do this for you,” you said, cupping his cheek and bringing his gaze to yours. You could see how tired he was. The hunger was there just floating under the surface. He looked ready to snap at any given moment, but you weren’t afraid.

Copia sighed, and his hand came to rest over the one you held to his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Are you sure, amore ?” He asked.

You nod. “Very sure.”

He looked unconvinced, his frown lines deepening. “It will hurt at first. You will feel like your skin is on fire…”

“I trust you. And besides, I know that feeling goes away. You told me yourself.”

“Eh, si , I did. The pain fades and you’ll become calm and pleasure.” You could have sworn there was a tinge of pink in his cheeks when he said that. 

“Well, we’ll just have to see where that takes us,” you replied with a hint of a smirk. “So, let’s do this. How do you usually do this with the donors?”

“They sit next to me and give me their wrist,” Copia said. “But they are trained and used to the pain the bite brings. You are not. It would be best if you sat in my lap so I can hold onto you so you don’t fall over.” 

You straddle his lap as he sits on the sofa. “Like this?” You all but purr.

“Hmmm, si ,” Copia responded, his hands came to rest on your hips. “And then I’ll take your wrist and bite into the vein.” His hand came to lift one of your hands and his lips ghosted a kiss over your knuckles.

“Why not drink from my neck?” You suggested. You remembered him telling you how drinking from the neck was very intimate and intense. You craved to know what it felt like; to be held so close on the edge of life and death. 

“I—I shouldn’t,” Copia stammered, his eyes glued to your neck, just below your jaw where your pulse thudded. “Not for your first time.”

“I want to,” you responded quickly. “I want to feel it all.” 

Copia’s eyes slipped closed as a sigh escaped his lips. He was silent for a second, probably debating whether to give in to your request. You could see the battle he was warring with himself. After a moment his eyes opened and looked into yours. His hand came to cup your check as he nodded. “Alright, amore , but you must tell me if you feel lightheaded or sick. I cannot live with myself if I hurt you.”

“I promise,” you pledged. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Well, we’re trying to avoid that last bit, eh?” Copia said, his lips coming to yours in a gentle kiss. “I’m going to kiss you for a bit and then I’ll bite.” 

You nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”

His lips were on yours once more as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close. The kiss started chaste and soft and quickly deepened. You could feel his cock harden beneath the laces of his pants. You gasped as his lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw, stopping to nip your earlobe, before continuing the path down your neck.

“Copia,” you moaned breathily as you felt his fangs graze the delicate skin over your jugular.

“Try to be still for this part. I don’t want to make it worse,” he murmured against your skin.

It felt like a pinch at first, and you wondered what the big deal was. It didn’t hurt. You spoke too soon though because then it felt like lava was flooding your veins as his fangs sank deeper into your neck. You let out a pained whimper as you tried to pull away, but his arms held you steadfastly in place. Something that sounded like a muffled apology came from Copia as the hot pain flooded your entire body. Tears sprang to your eyes and for a moment you really thought you might die.

Then just like Copia said, a calm fell over you and the pain began to ebb away. Endorphins surged through your bloodstream and you became lost in the feeling of peace and pleasure. “Oh,” you breathed as your fingers curled into the black fabric of his shirt. You could have sworn you felt Copia smile against your neck as warm rivulets of blood trickled down your skin.

“Feels nice now,” you said, rolling your hips against him without even realizing it.

That is until he groaned.

You were fully aware of the hard bulge beneath you; fully aware that he was just as aroused as you. Unable to help yourself, you rolled your hips again, grinding down against him causing you both to groan. Pleasure filled you as the friction of your jeans rubbed against you just right. “Fuck, Copia,” you moaned as his hands slipped from your hips, into the waistband of your pants, and to your ass. He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer. He wanted you to keep going and you had no intention of stopping. Your fingers grip his shirt so tight that your knuckles turn white as you grind against him, pushing yourself to your peak. You felt the coil in your lower abdomen grow tighter and tighter before suddenly it snapped. “Oh, fuck,” you panted. Dizziness caused your head to swim as you came, Copia's name fell from your lips in breathy moans. You felt his cock kick beneath the layers of clothes separating you and you smirked knowing he came as well.

His head fell back from your neck as he looked into your face with half-lidded eyes. His pupils were blown and crimson stained his lips and chin. With a quick swipe of his tongue, he cleaned his bloodied lips. His eyes fell closed as he savored the flavor.

“Amore,” he panted as his hands gripped you tight to him. “You are absolutely delicious. And I don’t mean just your blood.” His eyes opened and looked over your face, searching for any signs of distress or discomfort. “How do you feel? Did I take too much?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “A little dizzy, but that could be from how hard I came.” 

He frowned. “Maybe I did take too much.”

“Copia, I’m fine. It’s nothing a juice box and a cookie couldn’t fix,” you said, cupping his cheek as your thumb stroked over his paintless skin. “I promise I’m okay.”

That seemed to satisfy him. “Let’s get you cleaned up, eh? You got blood all down your neck and shoulder.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the spot he bit. The sensitivity of the wound made you wince. He pulled back and gave you an apologetic smile. “It’ll be a little uncomfortable for a day, but I have a balm we can put on it and it’ll heal right up.” He adjusted his grip and stood, carrying you to the bathroom. You knew after tonight, you’d always be his willing donor. 

[sillylittleguytm]

Indulgence

Papa Emeritus IV x gn!reader

Summary: Just a lazy day in bed with our beloved Papa :)

Warnings: Google translated Italian, nothing really- just pure fluff

Word count: 649

A/N: A little nervous since this is the first fanfic I've ever posted. It's just a drabble of an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for weeks that I finally got around to writing. I intend on writing and hopefully posting more.

You hardly ever see your own quarters anymore. At this point, you practically live in his.

It all happened very fast, perhaps to make up for the time you and Copia spend dancing around each other. You knew Copia as a Cardinal, secretly and subtly pining for him. He spent the same amount of time falling for you, although far less subtly. Copia didn’t get the confidence to ask you out until he became Papa, and things have been a blur since then. You now invade his closet, his space, his thoughts, and his heart, just as things are meant to be.

You now sit on Copia’s floor, your body facing his small TV and your back pressed against his bed. Copia’s legs rest on both sides of your form as he sits up on the mattress, controller in hand as he plays a game. In your own hands, you hold two juice boxes. It’s your duty to indulge him in a sip of his favorite drink whenever he lovingly nudges your head with his thigh. It made you giggle every time.

It was a beautiful sight, really. You got the privilege of seeing your beloved Papa and lover bare-faced, wearing just a t-shirt and boxers while he lost himself in this mindless game with you by his side. It was one of the few times that Copia truly got to relax. Here, he wasn’t Papa Emeritus IV, he was just Copia. Inwardly, he was overjoyed to have someone he could feel this comfortable with. He thanks Lucifer every day for your presence in his life. You felt very similarly, grateful that you're able to be a safe space for him.

As you zone out and admire him, his plush thigh makes gentle contact with your head again. You laugh quietly to yourself as you lift the juice box to his lips. He noisily sucks it down before pulling back from the straw. “Grazie, amore.”

You hum softly in response before setting the juice boxes off to the side and straying from your spot on the floor. You rise and take the controller from his hands. He grumbles quietly in protest as you pause the game, but all of his complaints die in his throat at you place yourself in his lap, burying your face in his neck. Copia chuckles and wraps his arms around you in return.

"Is watching me play really that boring, schricchio?" Copia teases, running his hands up and down your back. You look up at him with a loving smile.

"No, I'd just rather watch you instead." You say. Copia's face lights up with a warm and infectious grin and he immediately begins to pepper kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle and squirm in his lap.

"Il mio cuore, la mia vita." Copia mutters in between kisses. "Sei troppo dolce per questa terra, amore." As the kisses come to an end, you look at each other with adoration. Even with your unkempt hair and the clothes you slept in the night before, you were utter perfection to him.

"Ti amo tanto, tesoro. You don't know what you mean to me." Copia says affectionately, brushing back your hair to give a final kiss on your forehead. You beam under his loving gaze before you notice his expression shift. His smile becomes a smirk and you know just what's about to happen.

"Copia, I swear to Lucifer below if you-" Your warning is cut off as he restrains you with one arm and tickles you relentlessly with the other. You scream and squeal and thrash as he continues the playful assault. "Stop! Stop!" You yelp, trying to fight back through laughter.

Eventually, Copia decides to have mercy on you. His tickling comes to an end and you lay limp in his arms trying to catch your breath. "Oh, I hate you so much." You breathe, playfully smacking his shoulder. He chuckles at this.

"I love you too. Now, shall I get back to my game that you so very rudely interrupted, piccolo diavoletto?" Copia jokes, keeping you in his lap and picking up his controller. "Don't worry, you can play with me this time."

-----

Translations:

"Grazie, amore"- Thank you, love.

"schricchio"- Squeak

"Il mio cuore, la mia vita. Sei troppo dolce per questa terra."- My heart, my life. You are too sweet for this world.

"Ti amo tanto, tesoro."- I love you so much, treasure.

"piccolo diavoletto"- Little devil

A/N: Thank you for reading! I really do hope you enjoyed this. Like I said, I intend on posting some more drabbles. However, I do have an idea for a full length Terzo fic teehee

[leezlelatch]

This has been on my mind since yesterday... How do you think mornings with Copia would look like? Cause I can imagine it either being the fluffiest shit on this planet or straight up nsfw.

How about both?

18+ MDNI. Copia x GN! Reader. Fluff, intercourse, aftercare.

The shrill ring of Copia's hundred year old alarm clock swiftly pulls you from sweet dreams, and you groan softly as you turn in the warm, well-used sheets, pressing your nose into the pillows. A low grunt, and the dip of the mattress betrays your partner's wakefulness as well, and the sudden silence of the alarm makes you sigh in relief. You bounce a little as Copia falls back flat on the bed, and you both settle into a silence, trying to hold on to those last few minutes of rest before the work day.

You open an eye, peeking at your bedmate, and you smile, soft and sleepy. Copia in the morning is precious. His hair is always such a mess, sticking in every direction and plastered to his forehead. His face is quiet from sleep, those worry lines and signs of age carefully nestled and soft between warm skin. You know his brow will furrow deeply as the day passes, his bottom lip chewed to bits because of a budget issue, or the Ghost project, or whichever other nonsense that falls into the lap of Papa Emeritus IV. But you've always told him to wear his face proud. He's earned it.

You reach up to smooth the hair back from his forehead, and Copia catches your hand, bringing it to his lips to press little kisses to the tips of each of your fingers. "Good morning, amore," he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. He turns, his hand falling just behind your thigh to drag you toward him across the mattress. He hikes your leg over his hip, sliding his leg beneath to hook around your other. Copia tucks you against his chest, dropping more kisses onto your forehead. "I dreamt of you."

"Good dreams?" You ask softly, nuzzling into the soft skin of his neck, and pressing your own kiss to his throat.

"Oh, sì," he responds, his hand working under your sleep shirt to knead the flesh of your side, dropping lower to curl beneath your waistband. "My dreams are always good when you are there. But I will tell you something even better, eh?"

He pulls back just a little to look into your eyes with that familiar crooked smile. His thumb finds your cheek, drawing gently over it. "Reality," he finishes.

Your lips meet as the final word slips from his mouth, tender and sweet, the last vestiges of sleep hanging on just a little beneath the embers of passion. You're obsessed with his taste, even when neither of you have brushed your teeth, and it appears that Copia agrees as he licks into your mouth with abandon, swiftly taking dominance and curling his tongue around yours. Your hand slides from his chest to his stomach, finding purchase in the soft skin to pull yourself closer. You can feel him, ready for you, and you wonder how long he's been standing at attention with the way it pulses insistently against the material of his shorts.

Copia captures your chin in his hand, tilting your head in the way he wants it best to further plunder your mouth. "You can take me, hmm?" He murmurs against your lips. "You can take your Papa?"

You nod, desperately, and he's pulling at your clothes, lazy and unhurried, adjusting you both until he's deep, filling you, loving you, no barriers between you. He cradles your face, never breaking eye contact, and his other hand falls to your hip, pulling you against him again and again and again.

"Ti amo, oh, amore mio, oh, my baby," he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as he catches each of your moans with one of his own. "So good, so good for me. You feel me, sì? You feel me so deep."

His words alone are enough to take you over, your trembling body held so protectively by the man you love, and he follows you swiftly, hips grinding achingly slow against you as if trying to prolong your connection in such a state of bliss.

You lie together, a heap of tangled limbs in the sheets, the morning light shining so gently upon your bodies. It would be so easy to go back to sleep, lulled into peace by your shared passion, but the alarm rings once more.

Muscles loose, and unable to part, you join Copia in the shower, taking your time to run a warm, soaped cloth across every beautiful inch of his body, and in turn, he holds you under the warm stream, gazing into your face with adoration. A perfect morning.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 12th

Medical Play, Papa Emeritus III x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Medical play; GN!Reader; dom!Reader?; cringey Terzo; subby!Terzo; established relationship; latex kink?; glove kink; hand job; mild praise; anal fingering; taunting; mild degradation; mild humiliation; power kink; mild edging; cum eating; cumswap; reads like an 80s porno; awful medical terminology, I'm sorry to all the doctors and nurses reading this lmao;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals

🔞 MDNI 🔞

The graveyard shift was always the worst - or rather, the slowest. As most of the Siblings were asleep in the dead of the night, you had free roam of the medical centre of the Ministry. Not that there was ever much to see given that it was hardly decorated and filled to the brim with medicine and multiple medical journals, all of which you’d perused on your off or slow hours.

Thankfully, your job was always made easier by the fact that no one in the Ministry was stupid enough to get themselves into a lot of trouble. Even during the day, the worst injury you’d seen was someone’s ritual or blood play wounds get infected, but thankfully it was easy enough to sort out. It was the most difficult thing, becoming a doctor and going through university - even getting a job within the Ministry itself was a difficult task. The job itself though - paid to read books mostly.

Though, it was different that night. Your socked feet were up on your desk and a book was in your lap. You were, of course, reading what your friends liked to call your “dirty girl books”, when there was a gentle knock at the door. “Come in!” You called. Immediately you brought your feet off the desk and put your bookmark in the book, hiding it from the view of your guest. You still didn’t want to appear unprofessional, even though there was no one around… well, almost no one.

The door opened to reveal a smaller man, black hair and wrinkles. You recognised him instantly. “Good morning, Papa.” You said, standing to your feet out of respect.

“Ah, hello, doctor. I hope I am not disturbing you while you are busy?” Terzo stood there in the doorway uncharacteristically awkward in his demeanour and make up chipping from his face. He looked tired.

You looked at the clock: four o’clock. It was so early. “I always have time for you, Papa. How can I help you?”

“Ah, it is a little embarrassing, doctor.”

“Whatever it is I’m here to help, judgment-free.”

This was the moment you’d been waiting for. The thing is - you weren’t Terzo’s personal physician. Given the nature of their job and the importance of their status, each of the Papas had their own personal physicians at their beck and call all times of the day and night. You weren’t part of that club, rather, dealing with the rest of the Ministry including the Ghouls and the Clergy. You may not have been Terzo’s physician, but you were his partner… so to speak. This whole arrangement had been set up and pre-decided weeks ago, and when he had time, he’d drop in to see you with some “medical emergency” and you would be the doctor to “treat him”. You would pretend not to know each other which was the most crucial part of the whole scene. So now you were just waiting for Terzo to say his next line, not that you knew what his next line was.

“Well you see, I am an old man. And my, how do you say? My dick is broken.”

This fucking guy.

“Okay, in what way?”

“It doesn’t stand for very long. It grows tired very quickly, like me. Or my fratello.”

Please don’t compare your penis to your brothers.

“R-right.” You blinked at him a few times, not quite expecting him to be so forthcoming with his “issue” - or even quite so chaotic. “Please come and take a seat on the bench for me.” He did as you instructed. “Would you mind unbuttoning your shirt, Papa?”

“Ah, doctor, that is the other thing. My fingers are tired today, too. I am afraid they can’t unbutton anything.”

Of course they can’t.

He looked at you and gave you the biggest shit-eating grin, clearly eating up his role. Despite knowing Terzo as intimately as you did for a number of years, he still managed to find ways to fluster you.

You moved forward, trying your best not to smile and keep it “professional”, but the excitement within him was simply radiating off of him and infecting you. He was, for lack of a better term, buzzing with it. Your fingers carefully began to unbutton his white shirt and avoiding his gaze, but you could feel it on you. His mischievous eyes studying you and your expression so intently you were sure it would leave a mark.

Once his incredibly hairy chest was completely exposed to you, you took the stethoscope from around your neck and set yourself up to use it. “This may be a little cold.” You warned before placing the bell over his heart. Of course, this wasn’t a real check up, so it didn’t matter what you heard. In fact, you were only doing this for his benefit because you knew he’d want it.

“Can you hear that, doctor?” He asked.

“There’s nothing unusual.”

“But my heart, you should hear that it beats only for you.”

This. Fucking. Guy.

It took everything in you not to blush or react to his words in any way. “Okay, I think we should do a few tests just to make sure everything’s okay. Would you mind removing your pants, Papa?”

You took a step back and allowed Terzo to stand from the bench and do as you’d asked. You looked away to feign privacy, despite the fact that you’d been up close and personal with that part of his body for a long while. But out the corner of your eye, you noticed that the little shit had decided to forgo underwear. How you were surprised was a mystery unto itself.

“You know, doctor, usually I buy ladies dinner before I let them undress me in their offices.” He teased.

“Usually ladies don’t examine you for erectile dysfunction.” You taunted back. “Are you ready, Papa?”

“Of course, doctor. I await your professional opinion.” He plonked himself back up on the bed and leant back confidently, completely exposing himself to you. He was enjoying this game a little too much for your liking. You began prepping your hands, first sanitizing them then putting latex gloves on to keep up appearances. When you moved back over to him, you noticed that his mismatched eyes were heavily trained on you, only moving when you did and fixating on your gloved hands. Time to bullshit your way through this. “To make sure you can maintain a healthy erection, we need to give you one first. Is this normally something you have a problem with?”

“Not at all. Usually my partner is able to get me up just by looking at me.”

You nodded. “So you won’t need any help from me today, then?”

“On the contrary, doctor. My partner is not here, and so I am having trouble. Please take care of me.”

He gave you the best doe eyes he could muster knowing that it would work on you because it usually did. And so, you nodded, and poured some of the office’s lubricant onto your hand. “This will be cold.” You warned him.

As soon as your lubed hand made contact he hissed and jumped, perhaps making more of a show of it than he ought to. Your hand began to work away at his flaccid length, which was filling up with blood a lot quicker than you anticipated. With each tight stroke of your hand, Terzo’s hips bucked slightly. He wasn’t quite ready or sensitive enough for it to feel mind-numbingly good, but the little breaths and whimpers he was releasing was proof enough that it was working. One of his own gloved hands came up to your arm and gripped onto it, trying to keep himself grounded. The other hand grasped onto the bench with as much force as he could.

You tightened your grip and began focusing entirely on the head of his cock, making sure he was feeling as much pleasure as possible. The feeling of the lubed latex on his head had his mind reeling. His eyes were tightly shut, his bottom lip had been taken into his mouth and trapped between his teeth. He was trying so hard to keep up the pretense but he was obviously feeling good. You decided to be a bitch. “Tell me, Papa, what do you usually do to keep the erection?”

“What?” He asked, opening his eyes and coming to his senses.

“Well, this is a new problem, isn’t it? What usually works? What usually feels good?”

Terzo, whom you had never seen so flustered before, gulped and took in a sharp inhale before continuing. “M-my partner usually uses their mouth.”

“Where?”

“What?”

“Where does their mouth go?”

“M-my cock and sometimes my a-asshole.”

You moved your other hand to his taint and then to the rim of his hole. “Here?”

“Yes! Merda! There!”

Then, all of a sudden, you removed all of your hands and took a step back. “You seem to be healthy, Papa. I think maybe you’re just stressed.”

His eyes were wide and he couldn’t quite believe you’d done that. “What?”

“Lack of sleep can also be a cause of dysfunction. Do you get enough sleep?”

“Yes. Doctor, I- I am confused.”

“What with?”

“Well, I… you… stopped.”

“Of course, Papa. You needed help maintaining an erection, we’ve since discovered that you don’t struggle with that regularly, and you’re certainly not now.”

“You can’t just leave me like this.” He gestured to his now angrily erect cock before muttering something in Italian, clearly irritated by you.

“Maybe if you were to ask nicely, I might help you out.”

Terzo hesitated for a second, clearly wanting to say something but not wanting to either be so desperate that he begs for it, but also being to embarrassed to say anything. He was perhaps the filthiest person you knew, never shy or bashful, but apparently when his partner had the upper hand he was a total mess.

“Per favore.”

“Not good enough. Try again.”

“Will you… help me out?”

“Sure, what with?”

“Porca puttana! Make me cum… please, Doctor.”

He almost forgot himself.

You stood and sauntered back over to him applying more lube to your gloved hand as you passed that shelf. “Good boy.” You told him with a teasing smile, wrapping his cock back up in your hand and continuing exactly where you left off. “Nothing wrong with you now, is there? You’re keeping it up well enough, aren’t you?”

The same hand that was gripping onto the bed had moved up onto your shoulder, a gorilla grip on it. His eyes were open but focused on the wall, glazed over a little in the sheer pleasure your hand was providing. Your other hand went straight back to the rim and began rubbing over it again. His noises got louder when you did, hips having a mind of their own. The position wasn’t great so you got him to sit back, keeping him width-ways on the bench with his cheeks on the edge and his feet propped up and legs spread. You cursed your boss for giving you the wrong chair to use for today, what you would have killed to use the gynecology chair with the stirrups. It would have humiliated him so much to be so exposed. He would have loved it. Though he looked like such a whore in this position, you thought perhaps this was more humiliating.

With more lube on your hands, one went back to his head, and the other started pushing inside his hole. His mouth dropped open in a perfect ‘O’ and his brow furrowed, the pleasure almost overwhelming him. “We do have to make sure all parts of you are working correctly, hm? Especially this nice little button in here.”

“Cazzo!”

Only your pinkie was inside him at the moment. You didn’t want to hurt him and as he hadn’t pre-stretched himself out, you thought it was best to take your time. You wiggled it around a little, trying to make his hole fit two of your better, and kept at it until he was lose enough. Eventually, your index and middle fingers were able to fit inside him, and so you went in search of that button you mentioned. “Touch your cock for me.” You instructed. Like the obedient whore he was today, he did as you asked, wrapping his own hand around the head and moving quickly. “Ah-ah.” You scolded. “Slow down.”

“But-”

“Slow!”

His hand gradually put the breaks on, dropping to an almost torturous level. You could see how much it pained him. Given the fluttering of his hole around your two fingers, you could tell he was already too close. He was too overwhelmed. He needed that sweet release that you were refusing to give him. Why? Why wouldn’t you just make him cum? Why would you drag it out as much as you did? He couldn’t fathom it. But he was so desperate to finish he couldn’t ask you to stop.

This was a completely different man in front of you. The head of the Satanic Church was riding your fingers in your office as if he didn’t hold all of the power. Because right now he didn’t. You did. In his desperate need to cum, he was obeying your orders down to the letter. He was whining and writhing for you and only you. No one else got to see him like this: his entire body on fire and chasing a release he’d practically been begging for since he entered the medical ward, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth where it had opened so wide, and loud moans were spilling out with it. His pants completely removed and his white shirt unbuttoned completely. He was positively sinful right now - a proper Babylonian whore giving himself to another for his own pleasure. And oh how he sang for you when you reached that spot. How he stopped breathing when you finally hit it. How expletives poured from his lips to cope with the devastating bliss your fingers were giving him. Choruses of “yes!” and “right there!” and “don’t stop!” providing him comfort while you had your way with him. His own hand matched yours and as you got faster, so did he. He was so close. He could almost taste the sweet release that was on its way to him.

It was when your hands came up to play with his balls he finally tipped over the edge. Cum spurted from his cock and pooled over his hairy stomach, and even reaching up his chest in the intensity of the orgasm he was experiencing. His toes curled and his body seized up. You were, the whole time, talking him through it. “That’s it,” you told him, “give it all to me, Papa. Give me everything. Such a good boy.”

When you were sure he was fine, you gently removed yourself from inside him and bent forward, your tongue running through his spend and lapping it up into your mouth, keeping it there. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were ablaze with something. More lust? Frustration that you were doing something so sexy and he was too tired to do anything about it? You weren’t entirely sure. But the moan he released when you kissed him, swapping his cum from your mouth to his was enough to tell you all was forgiven… at least for now.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[ramblingoak]

Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

“I’m dying.”

Here we go.  It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes.  You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor.  When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it.  I can feel it.”  You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out.  Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather.  “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.”  He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them.  You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered.  The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face.  “Son of a fuck!  Copia!”

“Eh?”  His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely.  The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear.  His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead.  When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face.  “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”  You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip.  He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face.  “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.”  You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back.  He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead.  “Weak and old.  Hideous.” 

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!”  Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end.  “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.”  He rolled back over on his back with a groan.  “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.”  You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes.  “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine.  Twist my arm.”  He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him.  “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.”  You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier.  Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face.  “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.”  Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold.  You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside.  “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.”  You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows.  Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself.  “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?”  Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over.  He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it.  “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?” 

“The Hobbit.”  His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.  He used to read that to me when we were kids.”  Copia cleared his throat and smiled.  “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.”  You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning.  “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies.  You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying.  After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands.  Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?”  You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well.  As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh.  “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia.  I’ll be right here.”  His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair.  You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read.  “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…” 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

my masterlist of fic

my archive of our own page

[gravehags]

⛧⚸ gravehags' writing ⚸⛧

GHOST

sundress season - mary goore x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

synchronicity - cardinal copia x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

fever for the fire - cumulus x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

i must confess to you (i want to possess you) - cumulus x f!reader, prequel to fever for the fire, NSFW, MDNI

to taste your beating heart - cirrus x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

sweetest submission - dewdrop x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

untitled - cardinal copia x gn!reader

this hell (is better with you) - ghoulettes x afab!reader

worship this love - cumulus x f!reader

meet me in the woods - cirrus x f!reader, regency au, NSFW, MDNI

dream (a little dream of me) - aether x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

feel you from the inside - dewdrop x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

i'd be your mistress (just to have you around) - cardinal copia x f!reader

the potential of you and me - phantom x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

whatever she wants (whatever you want) - cumulus x f!reader (x cirrus, sort of), NSFW, MDNI

your sin, your preacher - papa emeritus ii x f!reader, NSFW, MDNI

give me mercy no more - cardinal copia x f!reader x cumulus, NSFW, MDNI

📚 CURATOR!READER (non-chronological series) 📚

dreadful need in the devotee - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

can't find you in the dark - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

unraveling a stitch - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

you send me - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

something so precious - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

i am the heart that you call home - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

every day is halloween - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

take me apart - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader), NSFW, MDNI

traduzione - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

satan baby - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader)

unholy, unholy, unholy - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader), NSFW, MDNI

falling so badly (i'm coming apart) - cardinal copia x f!reader (curator!reader), NSFW, MDNI

✨ BONUS ✨ - curator!reader x cardinal copia playlist

🌙 GHOUL BICYCLE SERIES 🌙

heaven in hiding - swiss x f!reader (virgin!reader) , NSFW, MDNI

the undone and the divine - swiss x f!reader, sequel to heaven in hiding, part two in the ghoul bicycle series. NSFW, MDNI

ain't it a gentle sound - dewdrop x f!reader, part three in the ghoul bicycle series (part i, part ii), NSFW, MDNI

waiting for you only - cumulus x f!reader, part four in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

our little remedy - aether x f!reader x mountain, part five in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

separated by a degree - cirrus x f!reader, part six in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

naked in that garden - rain x f!reader, part seven in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

feathers in our bed - transfem!sunshine x f!reader, part eight in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

some know it lovingly - phantom x f!reader, part nine in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

my blood is singing with your voice - aurora x f!reader, part ten in the ghoul bicycle series, NSFW, MDNI

the burn between our hearts - ghouls/ghoulettes x f!reader, final part in the ghoul bicycle series

💥 bonus 💥

dance of the seven veils - aether x f!reader, extension of the ghoul bicycle series

aether and dew spitroasting ghoul bicycle reader

ghoul bicycle series group first date

ghoul bicycle series bonus post part 1

mini fics/prompts

cumulus x f!reader x cardinal copia - NSFW, MDNI

mountain x ghoulettes - NSFW, MDNI

cirrus x f!reader - NSFW, MDNI

cardinal copia x sister of sin!reader (part 1, part 2) - NSFW, MDNI

ghoulettes with an inexperienced reader - NSFW, MDNI

phantom x f!reader (x mountain) - NSFW, MDNI

ghouls/ghoulettes and bloodlust - NSFW, MDNI

ghouls/ghoulettes handling your depressive episode

🪦🪦🪦

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thank you everyone for your continued support in letting me get both my nasty AND tender fantasies out. love you xoxo.

[sister-juniper]

Reciprocated Feelings (Terzo x GN Reader)

⋆˙⟡ Fluff with some sexual references ✮⋆˙

Summary: You and Terzo are friends with benefits, but you had developed romantic feelings. Unbeknownst to you, Terzo feels the same.

☆ Word Count: 1446 ☆

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

You and Papa Terzo had been fooling around for quite some time, a few months to be exact.

It all began during one of his sermons, you were sitting in the front row, right in Terzo's line of sight. He noticed you gazing lustfully at him. You see, Terzo had a knack for being able to read people, especially through their eyes. He could tell the intention behind that look you gave him by simply studying your eyes for a few seconds.

In return, he shot you the same stare, which caught you off guard. The entire rest of that sermon was spent with you getting more and more desperate, while you and Terzo practically eye-fucked each other.

An hour after all of that began, the sermon ended, and the entirety of the congregation filed out of the main hall and into the dining hall. You however, chose to stick around a few extra minutes. This proved to be a great decision, as Terzo did the exact same. As soon as the two of you were given some space, he was able to whisk you away to the privacy of his quarters. That was the first time of many when you two did anything.

From the start, your relationship had been strictly sexual and platonic. No romance or exclusivity involved. One would message the other when in need of some sexual favors, and the other would show up at the other's room a few minutes later. You two would do it, and then part ways once again.

Of course, Terzo had others, he was Papa Emeritus of course. You were not the only one he lusted after, and you knew this. You played along with his act, you acted okay with it, and you hid how you felt internally. You would rather have him like this than not have him at all. 

You tried to give the impression to him that you had others as well. You didn't want to look too "needy". In reality, nobody else really interested you in that manner like Terzo did. The only person who you wanted to touch you was him. You didn't care to invite any other siblings or ghouls into your bed. Your body would only enjoy the touch of Terzo.

He knew how to please you, he could play your body like a game of chess, but most importantly, he was the one you fancied. He was your type.

Each time the two of you finished doing it, after you parted ways, you wondered what it would be like if he stayed just a bit longer. If he stayed to coax you to sleep, run his fingers through your hair, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. You began to crave that, but still, that never happened.

At first, you brushed your feelings to the side. You ignored your heart gnawing at you. After all, there wasn't much you could do or say. You felt like Terzo was the one calling the shots, and you were just another sibling of sin. 

But after a few months of this, it was getting too intense. Every single time the two of you did things, you held back so hard from letting an "I love you" slip out of your mouth. Every single time, you could barely save yourself from asking "could you stay a little while longer?" as Terzo was putting his shoes on to leave. 

You began to realize what you felt would eventually slip out. It got harder and harder to hide it each time. It was only a matter of time before the confession left your lips.

You decided to put together a plan, a plan to ask him out on a date. You decided you would rather risk losing the sexual encounters, instead of just continuing on like this. You couldn't do it anymore.

Your plan was fairly simple, but also quite cute. You would go to a flower shop, buy a bouquet of purple lilac flowers, and show up at his office to ask. You knew Terzo would love those flowers, as he usually kept a vase of them on his desk. You were only about 50% sure of this actually working in your favor, but you chose to go along with it anyways.

The next morning, you went to your usual services, did your daily chores, and then when you finally had a few hours of free time, you took the bus down to the flower shop.

Something that you thought was odd however, was Terzo's absence during the daily sermon. Instead, it was his younger brother, Cardinal Copia, who took over. It made you a bit anxious, but you chose to shrug it off as him just being busy with something.

You bought the flowers, and got back on the bus with a sense of hopefulness. Maybe this would work out, you prayed to Satan that it would. Still, you had to be realistic, and were also mentally preparing yourself for the worst to happen.

You arrived back at the Ministry, and rushed upstairs to your room to do a few things first. You had to be quick, as dinner time is soon, and Terzo would not be in his office during that time. You made it to your room, applied a bit of makeup, sprayed on some of your best perfume, fixed your habit a little bit, and then you were ready to go.

You took a deep breath, clutched the flowers in your hands, and started walking down the corridor to Terzo's office. Quickly, of course.

You had turned the final corner to his office, when you suddenly collided with something. You panicked and reached down to pick up the flowers, before looking up and realizing who you just bumped into. It was Terzo.

He too was picking up a bouquet of flowers off of the floor, black dahlias, and looked a little flustered.

"O-oh hi Terzo. Im so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going"

You stared at him, wide-eyed, feeling the blush began to creep onto your cheeks. This is not how you wanted this to go, and why did he have flowers too?

"Ah tesoro, it is okay. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Terzo said, seemingly equally as flustered.

"Oh uh..." you searched your brain for some sort of excuse, any kind of excuse, but you couldn't think of any. What other excuse would there be to you rushing in the direction of his office holding his favorite flowers? "I was coming to see you."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to respond. He looked at you, then the flowers, then back at you again.

"Coming to see me? With that beautiful bouquet?"

You nodded and looked away with embarrassment.

"Well uh, actually tesoro, I was headed to do the same."

You looked back up at him and studied his face. He had a small smile, and you could see a little blush under his paints, and wait a minute... he was holding black dahlias. Your favorite flowers.

"W-wait... you were coming to give me those?" You questioned as you pointed to the bouquet.

He nodded "Sí, and you were coming to give me those?" he questioned while pointing to the flowers you held.

You nodded. "I actually got these for a reason you know..." you said as you trailed off

"What reason is that, cara mia?"

"I wanted to ask you on a date."

Terzo smiled warmly and stepped a little closer. "I was coming to do the exact same thing."

You looked at him in bewilderment. "You were??"

"Sí, that is why I wasn't at the sermon this morning. I was out buying these" He said in reference to the flowers

You smiled a wide smile as he handed you the beautiful arrangement of flowers. You took it from him, and handed him the purple lilac's in return.

"How did you know black dahlia's are my favorite?"

"I took a guess, I saw them in your room. How did you know I like purple lilacs?"

"I also saw them in your room" You said with a giggle

"Ah well, we are both quite observant aren't we?"

You nodded with a smile and a small "mhm"

"Well... what do you say to that date tesoro? You free this Friday night?"

You perked up and nodded enthusiastically "Yes, I am free"

"Perfetta. I will pick you up from your room at 6 p.m."

"I will be ready"

Terzo smiles at you "I can't wait"

The two of you share a kiss and part ways. As soon as you get back to your room, you place the gorgeous bouquet in a vase full of water. Terzo does the same in his office. You can't believe that just happened, but you are overjoyed to say the least. 

He feels the same as you do. 

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

[inkrabbit]

Ace of Cups

Pairing: Primo x ghoul!GN!Reader

Summary: After finally coming to terms with your feelings for your master, you finally confess to him.

Word count: 1,967

The ritual hadn't even started and you were already anticipating it to end. You were running around with the other ghouls, getting the stage set up and making sure everyone was dressed proper in their robes and masks. You had even yelled at Primo a couple times, shooing him away when he tried carrying some bigger, more heavier items. He pouted when you told him that he should relax and just focus on getting ready, claiming that he wasn't as old as everyone thought – that he could still pull his own weight, and that being “Papa” didn't mean he couldn't help. But you shushed him, ushering him to the dressing room backstage and told him to let his ghouls work. He huffed but reluctantly agreed, his footsteps silent as he went.

Your fingers ran through Silvanus' hair, tugging at slight knots as you pinned his hair back for him. The stubborn asshole hated the masks your pack wore, calling them impractical. You wished up and down, day in and day out, that Primo's own earth ghoul, Apache, would've gotten his lazy ass up be to part of the band, but it never happened. All he did was stay in his room and sleep. Even when he was out and about, he would fall over himself unconscious. Primo had enough when Apache fell asleep during practice one day, slumping over the drums and knocking everything to the ground, almost injuring Lotus in the process. Papa Nihil's earth ghoul, Silvanus, had stepped in to offer his services, having raised Primo since he was a young child anyway. You hoped that maybe his love for Primo would've transferred over to your pack.

It didn't.

Silvanus was a cold, hostile ghoul that refused to get to know anyone. In fact, when your timid little water ghoul, Lotus, had gone up to Silvanus for a friendly chat, he was automatically shot down. Silvanus made it clear he wasn't interested in chats. He wasn't interested in friends. The only thing he was interested in was helping and supporting Primo. The pack didn't matter. You had huffed, withheld the urge to tear his tongue from his head, and shooed him off with a snarling “Fine, you bastard”. Punishment for attacking your master's father figure wouldn't have been worth it.

As you slipped the last bobby pin into place, pinning down the layers of hair that would've blinded Silvanus in the material mask, you look at him. He's almost done smoking his cigarette, shuffling his deck of black and gold tarot cards. He at least indulged you tonight when you asked about them, saying it had been a gift from Papa Nihil back in '60. A Christmas gift, and his first ever deck that he used almost religiously. He gave you the small look into his past, confessing that he always did a personal reading before a show; his own ritual, in a way.

You look down at the deck, taking a moment.

“Do a pull for me?” you ask, curiosity laced in your voice. The ghoul looks up at you, that tan, pale skin still such a shock to see when you were so used to his ashen-green. He considers it, but continues to shuffle for a little bit. When he finally stops, he slips the card from the top, turning it over to look at it.

The Ace of Cups.

A smirk forms on Silvanus' face as he turns it to you, waving it back and forth slightly.

“Someone's a lucky ghoul,” he purrs teasingly, chuckling softly. “You know this card?”

“I don't know much about tarot,” you confess. Primo did some readings of his own here and there, and he taught his younger brothers. But you never dabbled in it yourself, no matter how many readings your master gave you.

A low hum comes from Silvanus as he looks down at the card again. “It's a very good card, actually. I consider it one of the best. It's all about new beginnings, and it's supposed to symbolize fertility, romance, beauty, and the heart. It can indicate a new relationship, a wedding, or even a new child.”

“Huh...” You stare at the card for a moment before giving him a teasing smile. “You saying that you and I are gonna become mates?”

A disgusted scoff escapes the ghoul as his lips turn into a sneer. “You wish. Just because I did a pull for you and let you pin my hair down doesn't mean I'm interested in taking you out.”

“I'll remember that!” He rolls his eyes, shooing you away. And you do, letting him finish getting dressed as you make your way to Primo's room. You want to make sure everything is ready before the ritual, and you glance down at your phone. You're making good timing, but you never know when something will go wrong. You learned to take the saying “expect the unexpected” to heart, especially living in the abbey.

“Papa?” You knock on the door, waiting patiently for his response. When he tells you to come in, you open the door and pause for a split second. The smell of flowers hit your senses and you feel your heart melt. You move inside the room, shutting the door behind you as you make your way over to Primo. You'd never tell anyone, but you desperately loved the man. He was the best master you'd ever had, and he treated you so well. But you were determined to keep your relationship professional. You were his ghoul, not a potential partner, no matter how much it hurt your little heart.

“How are you, Papa?” He's sitting in front of the mirror, having started to put his papal makeup on. A small smile dances across his lips as he looks at you in the mirror.

“I'm fine, girasole,” A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Not running around like you.”

“That's how it should be.” You smile back at him, moving to stand close. “Would you like help, Papa?”

“I would love it.” He turns in his chair, looking up at you. You grab the white face paint, setting it in the palm of your hand as you use a finger to gather some of the paint up. You turn, bending down slightly to start applying it to his face, feeling the softness of his skin underneath your touch. This wasn't the first time you've applied his makeup, and you're certain it won't be your last. But truth be told, you loved it. You loved being able to help him, especially when you got to be close with him like this.

“You're such an amazing ghoul,” Primo breathes out contently, his mismatched eyes falling shut as he just barely leans into your touch. He would never know, but all of these soft compliments and praises would make your heart flutter. You absolutely loved being so close to the old man, finding comfort in his scent, in his voice. It always eased your nerves, hearing that rasp in his voice, knowing your master was close by.

“You're thinking, ghoul,” he says softly, bringing you out of your thoughts. “You're not worried about the show, sì?” A soft, playful chortle escapes him. “I must have my closest ghoul confident. I rely on you.”

“Apologies, Papa.” You give him a small, polite bow as you go back to focusing on his makeup. “I suppose I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Tell your Papa.” He gives you a playful smile. “Pretend we're back at the abbey, inside the confessional booth! Confess to me.”

You let out a playful scoff. “I don't remember ever applying your makeup during a confessional, Papa.”

“Ah! Dettaglio!” he scoffs, throwing his hands up. “Tell me, ghoul! I won't be happy until you do.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You had seen other ghouls with mates. You had seen humans with lovers and listened to their tales of dates and intimacy. You silently cursed yourself, finally coming to accept your feelings.

“I think I might have fallen for someone, Papa,” you grumble softly, continuing to apply his makeup. A soft hum comes from the old man, signaling you to continue. “I doubt he feels the same way. It's also very unprofessional. I suppose I've just been ignoring and denying my feelings for so long, but... I can't anymore.”

“Oh, it doesn't happen to be Silvanus, does it?” Your face turns up into one of disgust, making Primo laugh loudly.

“I'm only teasing.” A more sincere smile crosses his face. “Tell me about him?”

“He's... important, Papa. Both to me and the church.” How much can you say before you give him away? “I suppose all of the time I spend with him just made me... attached.” Primo lets out a hum, and you decide to continue. “I find myself always excited to work around him. We actually joke quite a bit, and... it's so nice to finally laugh and smile with someone. I'm not used to such... kindness.”

“Mhmm. And this man, this is someone you are close to, sì?”

“Yes, Papa.”

He gazes up at you, mismatched eyes tender and soft as they meet yours. You're almost done with his makeup now, your fingers gentle and slow as you apply the last bit of black paint around his cheek. You know why you're doing it when you snap out of your trance, you subconscious wanting desperately to savor the feeling of his skin under your touch.

“Tell me who it is, ghoul.” Though it's a command, it's not harsh like some other commands have been. It comes out in a soft breath, curiosity lacing his voice as he holds your gaze. Well... no time like the present.

“It's you, Papa.” You're expecting a look of disgust, or maybe even surprise. You're expecting him to shoo you off, curse at you in Italian and send you back to the Pits when the ritual is over. Anything.

What you don't expect is the old man leaning up, pressing his lips softly against yours. You can feel the makeup stain your lips, and while the initial taste is unpleasant, you finally pick up something else; the actual taste of Primo's lips. He tastes sweet, but there's a bitter hint to it, and you can recognize the black tea that he drinks regularly.

It encourages you to eagerly kiss him back, chasing more.

Primo all but pulls you into his lap, letting you straddle him. Your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks. You don't care that you're smudging your hard work. You just need to feel him. All of that time you spent, falling harder and harder for your master; all of the fleeting thoughts of a moment like this, wrapped in his arms as he hungrily presses his lips against yours. Your body is flush against his, both of you trying to get close to one another.

When you both finally pull back, panting softly and having a thin line of saliva connect you two, you see the love and admiration in his eyes. He seems to be at peace, like a weight has finally been lifted off of his shoulders.

“Well, girasole,” he purrs softly, bringing a hand up to gently hold your chin between his thumb and index finger, “I think it's safe to say I return your feelings.”

You don't respond. Instead, you lean forward, catching his lips with your own. You're glad you had extra time to spare. Using it to make out with your master was much better than sitting around and waiting for it be time to perform.

[writingjourney]

Unprecedented | Secondo x gn!Reader

Or: The four times you almost get Secondo to admit his feelings for you and the one time you succeed.

Summary: working with Secondo is only half as bad as people make it seem – at least until you fall in love with each other.

Content: 12.7k words, gn!reader, pining, sexual tension/suggestive language, food mention, blood/minor injury, forced proximity, soft secondo, terzo being a menace, smut-ish in part four but definite smut in part five (thigh riding, unprotected sex, penetration, dom/sub dynamics), 18+ MDNI

thank you for being patient with me, this is my first time writing Secondo, so pls go easy on me ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 Voluntary Abstinence

The air gets colder by a few degrees as you take the last few narrow steps down the winding staircase into the basement. Burnt-down candles are illuminating the hallway from small alcoves, wax dripping down the weathered stone, their light flickering off the dark brick walls. Amongst these dancing shadows you make your way to the door at the other end of the hall. It’s made of iron, heavy and airtight, the rooms beyond kept on very specific temperature and humidity levels to preserve the precious items they’re protecting.

You push it open and find yourself in a small antechamber that leads into three different rooms – a tiny office, the restoration workshop and a small storage room. Entering this area always feels like stepping foot inside a secret laboratory, though it looks far less sterile with all the shelves of old tomes, paintings and other cursed as well as non-cursed artefacts.

“Papa?” you whisper upon closing the door.

“Office,” a steady voice calls back.

You find Papa Emeritus II bent over the desk, sorting through papers. He’s wearing his narrow reading glasses, the paint by his ears slightly smudged while his outfit remains pristine. Black slacks, a black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up casually, his usual black leather gloves switched for white cotton ones to avoid fingerprints and sweat stains.

He’s hard at work, has been for most of the morning, trying to save a rare first edition of Nietzsche’s Der Antichrist. He lets you observe him from time to time, ever since you expressed your genuine interest in his restoration work. His book-binding fascinates you the most so whenever an interesting project emerges, he lets you know and you get as much time off from your regular clergy duties as possible in order to learn from him. Lucky for you, Sister has no issue excusing you from time to time to help Papa down here. Not many Siblings have the patience or steady hands to work on these intricate projects and even less want to work with Secondo at all, if only for his understandably high standards when it comes to handling fragile artefacts.

“How is it going, Papa?” you ask casually.

“I am taking some time to document the process and sort through these,” he says. “My hands are a little too shaky for bookbinding right now.”

When you don’t reply, he finally looks up at you. His eyes appear bigger behind the glasses but he quickly takes them off, the marks now imprinted on his nose making you smile. Only the smile quickly vanishes when you take in his tired eyes. Even under the black make-up he looks exhausted, sleep-deprived and almost hungover, though you know he wouldn’t drink in the middle of a project like this. So there has to be a different cause.

Secondo, meanwhile, takes you in as well. You’re wearing the tight habit that hugs your body in all the right places today and he’s very pleased with that. Perhaps by now you’re aware it’s his favorite, he knows you’re observant like that, such a smart, sharp-witted thing you are. He’s trying very hard not to stare but you’re too busy worrying to notice.

“Are you feeling alright, Papa? You look… ugh.” You’re clearly trying to find a polite way to put it and it amuses him greatly. Even now you hesitate to speak your mind around him. “I mean, you seem like you’re in need of some rest.”

“Yes, sleep was not a priority last night.” He smirks to himself at the memory, he can still feel it in his sore muscles as well. “So you will have to excuse me looking a bit tired today, Sibling.”

Your lips press together into a thin line. “Oh. Of course.”

Secondo does not miss the hurt that’s flickering over your face. Once, he might have, but by now he’s seen this look so many times that he can catch it in milliseconds. The guilt he feels upon glimpsing it is the main reason he established certain rules in the first place. As a man with many lovers, Secondo had to find ways to stop anyone from developing any actual feelings for him that he cannot reciprocate. Most of the time, this isn’t a real issue, the intentions are clear, people seek adventures, a like-minded lover who can satisfy them in ways that others can’t. But from time to time expectations change, feelings get in the way and it’s so very human but very bothersome at the same time. Secondo has no desire to toy with anyone, so at the first hint of anything that goes beyond lust, he usually calls it quits to avoid inflicting any more pain than necessary.

But there is a key difference here: You’re not his lover.

“Well, I won’t keep you, Papa, I just wanted to see the progress and check in on you. I have to help out with lunch preparations now, but perhaps I can come back later,” you say without meeting his eyes again. “I wish you a productive day nonetheless.”

He wants to stop you and say something, only he’s not sure what there is to say at all. Please, do come back? Don’t leave yet? 

It’s only when you’re out the door that he realizes he could have just thanked you.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Despite what occurred in his office before lunch, you’re back in the early afternoon hours, presenting him with some painkillers and a cup of black coffee. He can tell by the smell alone that this hasn’t been brewed in the kitchens; you clearly begged Terzo to let you use the fancy coffee machine in his office. It’s always worth it, even if Terzo teases him mercilessly when it comes to you by now, his little assistente, as he calls you.

You don’t comment on your hasty exit from earlier as you set down your cargo on his desk and take a seat on the wooden chair opposite from him. You’re staying for a while, it seems, that’s good. He can use your company after working alone in the basement all day.

Not used to someone taking care of him, Secondo tries not to show how your simple gesture affects him. “Thank you, my dove. This is just what I needed.”

You smile with genuine kindness, the sort of smile that always makes him pause as he feels its paralysing effect on him. “You’re welcome, Papa. Are you feeling any better?”

He smiles and takes a much needed sip of coffee. “Yes, but I think I should take a bit of a break from…” He stops, trying to word it carefully. “… the nightly activities.”

“Oh, really?”

Your eyes bore into his and it’s like you’re begging for the honest answer he simply cannot give you. Secondo knows – he knows of your feelings for him, he knows of your desires, your wishes, your hopes. And he’d be a liar if he claimed not to return them. But right now being a liar seems easier to him than admitting to any of this.

“I am not getting any younger and I can’t have it impacting my work too much,” he states instead, a lame excuse for certain. His stamina is impressive even now and his reputation precedes him. It’s the lack of sleep that’s affecting him more and more, some joint pains maybe, but even that is barely worth mentioning – he can focus when he has to. Satan knows he could have a Sibling or even a ghoul over every single night if he really wanted to.

There is only one reason he doesn’t find proper fulfilment in most of these nightly encounters anymore. And that reason is looking at him with wide and far too hopeful eyes right now.

“I’m sure some people will be very sad to hear that,” you finally say, glancing away.

Not you, no, he thinks.

You shift in your seat, then, and he can’t tell why exactly you’re so nervous all of a sudden. It could be the subject matter. He doesn’t take you for being shy, so maybe it’s because of your very obvious attraction to him, the mere idea that anything could happen between you, implied by the fact he’s telling you about his sex life right now when you’ve been lingering on a safe professional level for months.

Secondo is not in the habit of discussing his private matters with people who aren’t involved, as much as Terzo tries to coax the details out of him over drinks sometimes. He is a private person, discreet, not necessarily secretive but certainly disinterested in any sort of unqualified opinions. But with you he feels safe enough to at least hint at them, if only to see that delicious blush spread across your gentle face.

“Well, I’m not saying that I’ll stay abstinent forever,” he finally says, aware that he’s sending out very mixed signals. “But I think I will be more selective from now on.”

You look at him again and your eyes still shimmer with expectation. He almost hates himself for giving you false hopes. But he can’t help it, you just look so stunning when you’re flustered for him, when your eyes circle in on his bare forearms, his gloves, his lips, your breathing becoming heavier by the second. Arousal suits you, he decides. It takes a lot of restraint to withstand the urge to show you what he could do to you if he just gave in. And this is certainly not the first time the image of fucking you on this very desk pops into his head.

In the end, you don’t comment. It’s something he appreciates a lot about you, the fact that you know when to shut up. And for the rest of the afternoon, while you watch him work on the Nietzsche, standing idly by the side with your eyes glued to his hands, you barely say another word. But you don’t have to – the very telling smile that never leaves your face speaks for itself.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

2 Papa’s Personal Pasta Day

Wednesday is Pasta Day.

Three different types of pasta, three different types of sauce you get to choose from. It’s the best day of the week, everyone agrees – even Secondo.

And yet your Papa is nowhere to be found today.

It’s not rare for him to skip lunch or avoid the bustle of the dining hall, but you always, without a doubt, catch him here on Wednesdays. As you eat the remainders of your own meal, staring at the empty spot next to his brothers where he usually sits, you wonder what keeps him occupied. You know he finished the Nietzsche but you also know that he recently got another box filled with rare books. So the only real explanation is that he’s even busier with those now.

Which means he’s skipping lunch altogether.

A sudden movement in your peripheral vision. Terzo stands up with his tray, though you can already see two Siblings scurrying towards him, ready to do the job for him. Without thinking too much you gulp down your last bite and hurry after him, asking a friend to dispose of your empty plate, an idea forming in your mind.

You catch him in the hallway as he’s sauntering back to his office, humming a merry tune.

“Papa!” you call out to avoid running after him for another five minutes.

“Hm?” Terzo spins around, smiling in recognition. “Oh. Buongiorno, Sibling. Don’t you look so well today?”

“Thank you, Papa. I was wondering if you can you spare me a moment?”

“Ahh, for you always!” The corners of his mouth curl up into smirk. “I hope you don’t come to complain about my fratello? Because that list is already very long.”

You assure him it’s not a complaint and follow him to his office. Once inside, he casually leans against his desk, folding his hands neatly in front of him as he awaits your plea. A few dots of red pasta sauce stain his right glove but you’re too nervous to point them out to him.

“I have a… a request,” you start, fidgeting under his intense gaze. “It’s unusual and I totally understand if you won’t allow me such a thing. But…  can I use your kitchen?”

“My kitchen?” he asks, brows shooting up in surprise. “Whatever would you use my kitchen for?”

You blush profusely as you start to explain. “It’s just… your brother skipped lunch today and you know he’s working so hard on these books right now. He probably forgot to eat again and it will give him another headache in approximately two hours. I would ask to use his kitchen, of course, but then it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore and you know I can’t use the Ministry kitchens because they’re busy in there now cleaning up. And I really don’t want to bring him reheated leftovers.”

Terzo considers this, considers you. “Oh Sibling, you really do like him, eh? What is it that you see in him? He’s a grumpy old man with no sense of humour.”

“He’s not so grumpy when we’re alone,” you offer, even more heat creeping up your neck. “And he can be funny, in a kind of dry, unintentional way.”

“Hmmmm. My coffee machine, my kitchen…” Terzo furrows his brow, the skull paint on his face giving him a slightly menacing look. “What is next? My bedroom?”

Your eyes widen. “Oh no! No, it’s not that kind of… not that kind of thing.”

Terzo chuckles and his features relax, making way for genuine amusement. “No? You want to tell me you don’t fuck down there?”

“N-no…”

“Ah, well, so it is on me to give it a little nudge?” His hand moves up to his chin in mock contemplation as he smiles at you. “Va bene, you can use my kitchen but I have one condition.”

You give him a pleading look, folding your hands in front of your chest. “Whatever you want, Papa, I will gladly do it.”

He smirks again, fishing for his keys before throwing them at you. “I expect some leftovers in the fridge tonight. And they better be good.”

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Carrying a tray down the narrow steps into the basement is not an easy feat, especially because your mind constantly tries to tell you that this is a bad idea and you forget to watch your steps. In the humidity underground the stone gets especially slippery, just like your situation with Secondo. You’re not quite sure how he’s going to take this. You shouldn’t have made such an effort. This whole idea was born from mere intuition, from that pathetic need to impress him that you always carry around with you.

But you just can’t control that tiny part of you that wants to prove just how perfect you are for him, how well you’d take care of him if he just allowed you to be in his life – no matter how unlikely that is.

You just hope it’s not awful, especially since Terzo is going to eat that big bowl of pasta you left in his fridge. To be fair, his kitchen looked like it had never been used before, so at least you don’t have to worry that you messed up his routine.

You sigh in relief when you see that the lights are on in the workshop. You can hear Secondo in the main room, so you set the tray down in his office, the only area down here where eating is actually allowed, and then knock very carefully to avoid startling him.

“Oh.” His eyes land on you and sets down the book in his hand that already looks mostly finished. “Good morning, Sibling.”

You lift your eyebrows with a smile. “Hello, Papa. Though I’m afraid I have to tell you that it is not quite morning anymore.”

He eyes the clock on the wall above him, exhaling in defeat. “I forgot the time, to be honest. I missed lunch, no?”

You linger near the door, ready to take the plunge. “Well, you did, but… are you hungry by any chance?”

✦ ✧ ✦ 

Secondo is not quite sure what to expect when you lead him into the office. What he certainly didn’t expect was a tray that resembles the ones used for room-service in the upscale hotels he loves to frequent, cloche and napkin included. He knows you have good taste by being around you so often, but that it is this excellent is news to him. The thought of you choosing this fancy dishware for him is almost enough to make him smile.

“So you brought me lunch?” he asks, though he should not be surprised by your efforts. You’re always attentive, you most likely noticed him missing earlier and pieced it all together.

“I made this in your brother’s kitchen,” you warn him. “So, he might ask about it.”

As he takes a seat behind the desk, Secondo’s brow furrows. “You made it? It’s not from the kitchens?”

At this question you bite your lip. He tries not to stare at your mouth. “Uhm, I made it, yes. I didn’t want to bring you stale leftovers and besides, they didn’t have your favorite today…”

Secondo leans back in his chair. He can tell that you expect him to scold you, to tell you that he wouldn’t have minded the leftovers, that you shouldn’t waste your time on such a thing, but that’s not what’s on his mind at all. To anyone else, he might have said these things, but to you? He feels his heart swelling in his chest at the gentle care you offer him, an altogether unfamiliar feeling, so all he can really do is stare at you in wonder.

You seem uneasy under his lingering gaze, your restless hands fiddling with your habit. “Okay, well, I should leave you to it. I have other dut–”

“No, no, you stay,” he commands and there is no room to question him. He will not let you scurry off again, not this time.

He waits for you to take a seat before he removes the cloche from the plate, revealing a beautiful serving of Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe, complete with freshly ground pepper on top as well as some half-molten parmigiano. He fails to suppress a surprised exhale as he takes in the food. It’s a beautiful plate, one he may well find in one of his favorite restaurants in Rome or Milan.

“How do you know what is my favorite?” he asks, spreading the napkin out over his lap.

“Oh well, I’ve… I’ve seen you get it for lunch whenever they offer it… Maybe it’s not your favorite, I just assumed…”

“It is my favorite,” he admits. “You’re very observant, my dove. I should be more careful around you, eh?”

You smile at him and the corner of his mouth curls upwards as well before he quickly averts his gaze. Secondo grabs the fork and moves it around in the pasta, his stomach giving an urgent growl. It’s beyond him how he managed to miss lunch being this hungry, but you made sure to give him his very own Pasta Day and a much better one at that.

From your side of the table, his feelings are still veiled in shadows, hidden by the severity of his features. You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking, but you have to admit that the situation is a bit awkward because all you do is sit here and watch him eat. Secondo, completely unbothered, has quickly finished half of what you put on his plate and you feel mildly concerned that you didn’t bring enough. He moans softly every few seconds and you struggle to hide what it does to you. There is something inherently erotic about this man eating your food, the way he seems to treasure every single bite, how he licks the sauce off his painted lips before using the napkin to gently clean them, leaving a mouth-shaped black stain on the cloth. It’s not hard to imagine the same shape covering every inch of your body, an entirely unhelpful thought. Secondo can’t hear how rapidly your heart is beating in your chest, but he may well notice how you sit there with your thighs pressed together, hands covering your lap.

“It’s good?” you ask for distraction, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve.

“Very good,” he states. “Have you not tried it?”

“Uh… well I had to hurry down here before it got cold.”

Secondo fills another fork, expertly wrapping the spaghetti around its tines. Then he holds it out to you, his other hand kept flat underneath it, and you realise that he wants you to eat. 

That he wants to feed you.

Your chest feels like exploding as you lean over the desk to reach him. Eyes locked with his, you slowly open your mouth, pushing your tongue out just enough to give him a glimpse. His hand doesn’t move, in fact he’s completely static as his eyes move to your open mouth. They stay glued there, his own lips parting just slightly. The expression turns his features unusually soft.

“Papa?” you ask, trying to hide a grin.

Secondo looks back into your eyes, but before he can move, you wrap your lips around the fork and slowly drag the spaghetti off. He watches your every move and his reaction gives you the courage to continue. You moan softly at the taste, the intense aroma of the Pecorino still evident in the sauce and it is good, you have to give yourself credit for that.

You hum vocally, a sound that hits Secondo like a brick.

You’re so deliciously unaware of the pain he’s going through, how the sight of you licking your lips nearly drives him insane. Your tongue darts out to reach the corner of your mouth, but there is some sauce closer to your chin that you have to remove with your thumb. When you suck it off the digit, Secondo has to fight a deep groan and it comes out as a strangled cough. His cock is twitching in his pants, already half-hard, and he knows he has to get a grip. You’re eating, it shouldn’t have such an impact on him.

“I may need some more practice,” you say, sitting back in your chair. “But I would say it’s better than in the kitchens.”

“You’re modest,” Secondo states. “It was perfect, my dove, thank you. I could not have prepared this dish any better and I have made it a hundred times.”

An almost shy smile, only betrayed by the way your lips quiver as you hold back your delight at his praise. “You’re flattering me, Papa, I’m sure you’re way more proficient than I am.”

It’s an endearing look on you, a hopeful sort of confidence, laced with a hint of hesitation. He’s not sure where his next words come from, but despite their barely hidden meaning he can’t hold them back. “I hope I get the chance to return the favor soon. I think I know what your favorite is and I happen to know the perfect recipe.”

Your grin widens, your whole expression one of warmth and joy and he’s rendered speechless for a very conspicuous amount of time.

“Should I get rid of the tray?” you ask. “I think your brother wants his dishes back.”

He finds his words again at the mention of Terzo. “Only if you come back down here after. I need your help this afternoon or I am going to miss dinner as well.”

“Certo, Papa,” you say, mimicking his Italian. “I will be back before you notice that I’m gone.”

You grab the tray and he watches your figure disappear through the door, slumping back in his chair with a myriad of thoughts and feelings running through his mind that he can’t possibly catch up with. His hand finds his crotch as soon as you’re out of sight, adjusting just enough to get rid of the painful tightness in his pants. 

At least this time he didn’t forget to thank you.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

3 Seeing Red

He’s trusting you with a Crowley.

It’s unprecedented. Secondo had Siblings watching before, he had them assist him before by bringing him tools, but never before has he allowed them to touch any of his delicate books.

It’s the next logical step. You have been watching him for months now, you have practiced on less valuable books and shown unexpected talent. And even now, with the Crowley in hand, he’s surprised to find himself trusting you completely.

Inexplicably, his eyes find you ever few minutes without his own doing. It’s not to control you, though maybe a tiny part of him does indeed check in with the state of your work. Whenever you look back, you hold his gaze so confidently. It’s intoxicating to have your eyes on him, fully aware that you reciprocate the feeling, and even when you don’t look back, seeing you so patiently focused on the needle in your hands is quite the sight.

His staring doesn’t stay unnoticed. You catch him looking at you for the tenth time in the past few minutes, though that is only a rough estimate. As elated as you are by his attention, you’re genuinely getting frustrated with him. He has to feel the tension between you. You refuse to believe that all those lingering looks are meaningless to him.

A sudden sharp pain in your finger. You hiss, more in surprise than in pain, and quickly pull away. The thick, curved needle pierced your white cotton glove and dug straight into your skin. By pulling it out so rapidly, you must have damaged an artery or at least left a pretty big wound because the blood spills out immediately. The shock only lasts for a quarter of a second before you pull your hand away, just in time before a few heavy droplets of blood drip down your wrist and onto the floor. Fortunately, the book still looks pristine and you take a shuddering breath of relief.

“What happened?” Secondo asks.

“I… I–”

Before you can explain, he’s by your side, roughly grabbing your arm to hold it steady.

“I didn’t bleed on the book,” you stammer. “I pulled my hand away really fast.”

His grip on your wrist is impossibly tight and you wonder if he’s going to scold you for your clumsiness, for being so distracted. His lips are pressed together as he takes in your shaky frame, his eyes meeting yours with such intensity that you struggle not to break away and you feel your lips quivering as you fight back tears.

“I’m so sorry, I– I didn’t–”

“I don’t care about the book,” he says and then he pulls you out of the workshop. Once you’re safely back in his office, he leaves for the storage room. You stand there, watching the blood run over your hand, pressing your thumb into your pulse in hopes of limiting the blood flow just like he did. But the once white glove is ruined by now, blotchy and red all over.

When Secondo returns, he carries a first aid kit. He sits down on the chair in front of his desk and motions for you to join him. You carefully step beside him, hand out-stretched in a cautious offering, but he’s having none of it, he just pulls you straight into his lap and grasps your wrist again.

“Let’s examine the damage,” he says, even though you’re not sure you can even hear him. His strong thighs are firm underneath yours, keeping you steady, but then there’s the throbbing in your finger, his hand on your arm, a wild mixture of impressions that overflow your sensory perception. Your rapid heartbeat surely does nothing to help with the bleeding.

You fight the urge to shift nervously but he doesn’t seem to notice your state, just turns your hand skyward and gets to work. He meticulously removes your bloody glove, one finger at a time, the fingertips of his own turning red in the process. Frustrated by the barrier, he removes them as well, throwing them aside with an annoyed grunt. Once his bare hands grasp yours, you feel a shiver running down your spine. The pain in your finger ceases to exist for a moment as you realise that this is the first skin on skin contact you ever shared. You’re closer than ever, so close you can smell the remainders of his cologne, feel his exhales on your skin.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Secondo muses. “You hit a bad spot.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I’m not usually so careless.”

“I know, my dove. It happens.”

Not to me, you want to say, not while I’m here, trying so hard to impress you.

“Go wash out the wound,” he orders then, his hand patting your hip in encouragement, dangerously close to your ass.

You reluctantly hop off his legs and wash your hand in the sink in the workshop. The water runs red at first but turns clear in the matter of seconds. With the blood gone, the wound only looks half as scary and you’re far less shaky when you return to the office.

You expect Secondo to just leave you to yourself now, but he immediately pulls you back into his lap, turning slightly to reach into the first aid kid on his desk, fiddling for bandaids and a spray bottle with disinfectant. You patiently hold out your hand, waiting for him to figure out the logistics.

The antiseptic stings and you flinch, more from shock than actual pain. Secondo is so careful, not a single tremor in his deft fingers as he applies the bandaid, making sure it sits tight around your still throbbing digit.

“There,” he says. “It is better now, yes?”

You nod, sniffling as you try to calm down. “Thank you, Papa.” 

His mismatched eyes meet yours and the concerned furrow in his brow softens. One of his hands rests on your hip, the other comes up, hovering by your jaw as though he’s scared to touch you. You feel his fingertips grazing your skin, tickling, exploring cautiously.

His gentle touch gives you courage. You lean in slowly and press your lips to his cheek. The feeling of his skin against your lips is so soft that you linger, kissing again and again, slowly moving them further down while one of your hands skims his other cheek. Your last kiss hits the corner of his mouth and you hear him suck in a sharp breath through his nose. His lazy grip on your hip suddenly tightens until you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into your flesh.

You sit back and look at him. There is something wild in his eyes now, a flicker of… you can’t quite decide if it’s lust or anger. For a long moment he stares at you like this, a terrifying expression that keeps you static. Right when you come to the conclusion that he must be angry, that you have to apologise, his hand shoots up to grab your chin and then his fingers push into your hair, his second hand joining in until he’s properly holding your head. He growls and presses his lips together until his whole face is tense.

“Papa,” you whisper. “Did I–“

He shuts you up by moving to stand, simultaneously lifting you onto his desk and pushing himself between your legs until your chest is pressed to his. The first aid kit flies to the floor, but the impact is only evident by a distant cluttering because all you can focus on is him. Secondo’s hands find your head again, holding it in place as he continues to stare at you, eyes moving from your lips to your nose to your cheeks that are squished between his palms, and then, finally, they meet yours.

You think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in, but then his head abruptly turns to the side and he buries his face in your neck. With a groan, he pulls you further into him, squeezing so tightly that you lose your breath.

“You’re killing me,” he mumbles. “Oh, my dove, you will end me.”

”Papa–“

Another groan. He sounds like he’s suffering, a wounded animal about to turn into roadkill. You don’t quite understand. It feels good to be so close to him, to have him hold you like this, so you simply sink into his embrace, move your unhurt hand to the back of his neck and softly scratch his scalp. He sighs deeply, slowly relaxing against you.

“What is this?” you mumble.

He gives a dry chuckle. “I wish I knew.”

✦ ✧ ✦ 

4 The Storage Closet Incident

Are you high on glue and paint solvent? Maybe.

In any case, your head is spinning. You spent all morning so far sorting through a fresh delivery of restoration materials, taking inventory and checking if they’re complete. Papa was here earlier to check in with you but left for a clergy meeting half an hour ago, so you’re left alone inside the storage room. There are three more boxes outside in the hallway and you’re on your fourth now, different types of paints and solvents and glue. You never opened any of the cans but you swear you nevertheless inhale the biting fumes.

Upon crossing out the last few items on your list, you hear a heavy knock. Maybe you should be cautious with opening considering that no one ever knocks here, but you do indeed find Secondo in front of the entrance, still fully robed.

“Forgot my keys upstairs,” he mumbles, patting down his pockets as though they would magically appear if he just tried hard enough.

“You can take the ones inside the storage room for the rest of the day,” you suggest.

“Humph.”

He’s usually in a pretty foul mood after clergy meetings that involve his father, so you’re not surprised by the lack of conversation. You watch him pull the keys out of the lock – the door stays open while you’re busy in the storage room anyway – and when he carries them into his office, you think nothing of it. Any potential concern would have escaped you at the latest when you catch him shedding his robes through the open door. As soon as they’re hung up on the coat rack in the corner, you can’t help but sigh. He’s wearing his classic black shirt underneath – black because it won’t show the paint stains on his collar. But it barely touches his neck anyway; he keeps it open just enough to display the first few inches of dark, curly chest hair. You take in his slender form, the taut muscles on his arms stretching out the fabric as he moves around, sorting through the papers on his desk, hands covered in tight black leather gloves that perfectly match his belt.

“So…” He looks up and catches you staring. “How is inventory going?”

“Great,”you say, finally looking back at your actual work. “I’m more than halfway done.”

“Good,” he says. “You’re fast.”

You smile when you deposit the last bottle of glue onto the shelf. “Speaking of inventory, can you help me carry the rest of the boxes? I left the big ones for when you get back.”

He’s already back out of the door before you even finish your sentence, carrying one of the heavier cartons inside to where you’re standing. You push it in front of the designated shelf and wait for him to bring the other two boxes in as well – carrying both at the same time. On his way inside he bumps against the open door to the storage room and it falls close behind him. He sets the boxes down and you notice him flinching as he rights himself, even though he covers it up with a low cough. You make a mental note to acquire something for his back pains, perhaps Primo can whip up some sort of tincture or cream. And even though you highly doubt Secondo would let you rub it into his back, the image is very clear in your mind now.

You hide your deepening blush by pulling out your neat little list, flipping through the pages without actually reading anything. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon sorting these until Sister needs me.”

He moves to reach out for your arm, but his hand drops before he ever reaches it. “Thank you, my dove. I know it’s tedious work.”

You smile at him, a little disappointed that he didn’t touch you. “Well, I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

His gaze lingers on you for a little longer before he pulls himself away to return to the office. Only then do you realise that something is very odd in here. The door is closed. Fully closed. With no functioning door handle inside, you have no way of getting out without the keys. For a second, all you can do is stare at the metal bar used to pull it open – and the very empty hole where the key would usually be found.

“You have the keys, Papa,” you remind him.

“I don’t,” he states. “They’re on the desk.”

His lips are pressed together tightly and you can feel the colour draining from your face.  No one ever comes down here, there is no chance people are going to find you anytime soon, at least not before your friends notice you missing.

You swear you can hear him mumble a cazzo, before he lets his forehead rest on his hand, massaging his temples, but your heart is beating so fast that it drowns out all other sounds. You’re not necessarily panicking, even though you do suddenly begin to wonder whether you’re secretly claustrophobic or not.

“It’s fine, I have my phone,” he says but you already know there won’t be any reception down here. Your suspicion is confirmed when he sets it down on the shelf next to him with a little too much force.

“My friends will probably come looking for me when I miss lunch.”

He looks over to you and suddenly his expression changes. There is a glimmer of something almost dangerous in his white eye that makes him look menacing, the effect only amplified by his skull paint and the sharp lines of his cheekbones. You back against the wall behind you, unable to look away despite your body telling you to be on alert. The last time he looked at you like this was when you hurt your hand and you wonder if he’s finally going to initiate more. The thought is arousing and bone-chilling at the same time.

”Papa–“

“Are you scared?” he interrupts, reading you perfectly.

“No,” you reply. “I’m not claustrophobic.”

He approaches you slowly, the soles of his black leather shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. “That is not what I meant.”

When he stops right in front of you, you swallow, your throat suspiciously dry all of a sudden. You can smell him over the paint solvent now, his cologne so heavy in your nose that you get dizzy. If you weren’t high before, then you are definitely high now. Instead of fear, you suddenly feel incredibly, stupidly bold, full of adrenaline and longing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you say somewhat confidently. “I’m not scared of being alone with you.”

You should be, his eyes are telling you. Even closer now, he leans into you, his hands resting on the wall on either side of your head. You know the eye contact is something he enjoys so you keep your eyes on him without flinching away.

“If I had you right here right now no one would hear you screaming.” He chuckles uncomically, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “I could do to you whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He furrows his brow. “Hm?”

“Why the hell don’t you?” you challenge. “Why don’t you show me what you want to do to me?”

He seems taken aback by this, staring down at you with his lips slightly parted. For a second you think he’s going to snap back, scold you for disrespecting him, but he just huffs out a laugh. “You know why.”

“No I don’t!” You fight back tears as all of your suppressed emotions threaten to spill out. A strangled sob almost swallows your next words. “I don’t.”

Secondo stares at you and you finally look away, trying hard to stay quiet. You know this is not what he expected to happen and neither had you. But you can’t stop, you’ve lost control over your emotions and now that the cork has been removed you can’t get it back inside.

“I keep trying to find a reason why you don’t want me.” You force your gaze to meet his once more, despite being afraid of what you’re going to see in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me, Papa? What do I lack that the others before me had? What is wrong with me that you don’t even want me for a night?”

You’re crying now, struggling to make sense of him. Frankly, you’re already embarrassed by your outburst and expect him to laugh it off or gently tell you that he appreciates you but just doesn’t feel attracted to you like that. Even him yelling at you would help at this point.

“My dove–”

“Don’t call me that.”

He cocks his head to the side, his lip quivering slightly. “Where is this coming from now?”

You don’t reply, even though your pout should be answer enough. Secondo regards you for a long moment but there is no anger, only curiosity.

“Who knew you could be so feisty?” he mumbles, leaning in even closer but turning away just before your mouths can touch. 

His lips ghost over your cheek, down your jaw, but they never touch. All you can feel is his hot breath on your skin, the tip of his nose dragging over your cheekbone. You squirm, letting out a desperate, high-pitched whimper. Secondo chuckles against your ear and the unfamiliar sound goes straight to your core, goosebumps running all over your body.

“You’re cruel,” you whisper. “So cruel.”

“I am.” His lips touch the shell of your ear. “But you seem to enjoy it.” 

Impulsively, you wrap your hands around his neck for support. Secondo moves to look at you again, his pupils blown wide with lust. This time, you close the gap by leaning in, but he turns away just slightly, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You try again, more boldly this time, and you swear your lips are already grazing his, but then they’re gone again. His hand moves to grip your chin painfully tight, his thumb digging into your cheek so hard you can feel it pressing against your teeth. You’re completely immobile and when you test it out, his grip tightens even more. You’re pretty sure you’ll find subtle bruises all around your jaw tomorrow.

Secondo’s mouth still hovers just in front of yours, his exhales tickling your face, but he remains just out of reach. You whimper in desperation and he chuckles again, nuzzling your nose.

“Not so bold anymore now, eh?”

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his grip.

“Please what?”

You let out a half-strangled mewl. “P-please.”

Secondo hums and he can feel your body shivering underneath his, muscles jerking, everything inside of you trying to reach for more. He knows he’s being cruel, knows that you’re suffering, but he can’t deny that the thrill of having you at his mercy like that is spurring him on. He wants to test out your limits, see how far he can go, if he can get you to beg even more. You’re always so good, so quiet and polite. Seeing those previously unknown sides of you is like unwrapping a birthday gift and why should he stop when there is still so much more to explore?

You whimper louder this time and he brings his other hand to your waist, pulling you flush against him. A gasp and your mouth stays open just slightly, lips wet and glistening with spit, still pushed into a beautiful little pout bis his gloved fingers. He pushes his erection against you, eliciting a moan from you that seems to come from somewhere deep within. It’s what tips him over the edge, his patience dissolving into thin air. He unravels, closing the gap and swallowing all of your other sounds with his mouth. The kiss is sudden and almost violent. He has to release your jaw to ease the pressure on your head, but he just moves his hand down to your neck instead. More moans and whimpers as his tongue pushes into your now open mouth and it’s adorable how you keep trying to move against him. He rewards your efforts by easing up just slightly, allowing you to taste him as well. 

Secondo is not sure what’s taking hold of him but he can’t fight the urge to taste more of your body. You’re all breathless when his mouth moves to your cheek and over your jaw, soothing, exploring. His lips find the soft skin below your ear, a shiver running down his neck. He can feel the tendon there twitching underneath his tongue and then he’s just sucking with reckless abandon, his intensity the result of a week-long, maybe even month-long starvation.

You moan into his ear and he thinks he’s going to lose it, his hips move on their own accord, pushing against you. It’s not a lot of friction but it’s enough to extract a deep groan from him. He wants to let go, he wants to have you so bad that it’s starting to obscure all rational thought. But he can’t lose control like that, not right now. As a safety precaution he pulls away, slotting his knee between your legs instead. With his hand on your hips he pulls you forward and you groan at the friction. A strangled sob and you try to wriggle for more. It’s uncomfortable with all the layers of clothing in between. His own pants are so tight that it provides him more pain than relief but to see you unravelling under his ministrations is enough to keep him going.

“Please,” you whisper, wriggling even more but his hand on your hips stays firm. He can feel the fabric of his pants getting wet under your movements, your crotch hot against his leg.

“Feels like you’re leaking onto my thigh,” he whispers back. “You’re such a mess, my dove, and I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You moan again, completely beyond words. He had this coming, he knows it. This was bound to happen at some point, the inevitable. But you’re at his mercy now and Secondo knows how to handle responsibility. He can see in your eyes that you’re too far gone now and for a second this clarity hits him like a brick. It’s almost like he’s watching the scene from above, bird’s eye view. This is exactly what he did not want – to fuck you like it’s just that, like it’s just sex, a quick romp in a closet, not even fully undressed, no real intimacy. Right now, it’s all you want, it’s all he wants, but what’s going to happen after?

Secondo pulls his head back to assess the situation, but when he sees the slowly drying tears on your cheeks, your still watery eyes, his paint and spit smeared all over your face and neck, he can’t bring himself to say any words that could possibly hurt you.

He’s lucky to be spared any excuses by a plethora of muffled noises in the background. Your eyes widen at the same time as he hears them and reality slowly settles around you again.

“Fratello?” The voice is barely audible through the thick door. “Secondo? Hellooooo?”

He acts faster than you even seem to realise what’s going on, gently letting go of you in favour of banging his fist against the door as rapidly as he can, trying to draw attention to you. There is barely any time to recover. The door opens after a minute and you find Terzo glancing into the room, hands still on the key in the lock.

“Oh, there you are, Secondo. Got locked inside, eh?” Then he smirks. “And with your little assistente no less. Tesoro, you look so flustered, did my brother–”

“Stai zitto,” Secondo snaps, pushing past him before his brother can get any good glimpse at the situation in and on his pants. “What do you even want down here?”

“Oh, thank you, caro fratellino, for saving us from being locked inside this room all day.”

A scoff. Secondo’s eyes find you again when you close the door of the storage room behind you and you struggle to meet his eyes. A pang of guilt, fear even, of what is going to happen now.

Terzo, completely unhelpful, looks between the two of you. “So, what happened here, eh? What did I miss?”

“Nothing, Papa,” you say quickly. “The door closed but it doesn’t have a handle on the inside. We had to use the key for something else earlier and forgot to put it back.”

“That’s not what I meant, tesoro.” Terzo glances at his brother and then back at you, furrowing his brow now that he’s seeing you both in proper lighting. There is a sudden edge of concern on his face. “Sibling, you look like you’ve been crying.”

Secondo is surprised that this is the first thing his brother comments on. You avoid both of their gazes, wringing your hands behind your back. “Oh, it’s nothing. I should probably go… I need to get back to work and I’m already late. Sister won’t be happy.”

Terzo cocks his head to the side, stopping you before you can walk out. He talks in a hushed, gentle voice, practically shutting Secondo out. “You should take a moment to calm down, tesoro, have a trip to the bathroom before you face Sister. You’re quite the mess.”

You nod at him, a grateful smile on your face, and then your eyes meet Secondo’s. A quarter of a second, nothing more, and he has no chance to convey anything with his expression. You give Terzo another pained smile and then you hurry outside.

The two man both wait for you to close the door  before they face each other. Secondo has settled behind his desk by now, a healthy distance between them that seems to be the only thing keeping their tempers in check. Secondo can’t help but scowl, gripping the edge of the table so tight that his knuckles turn white. “This is none of your business, Terzo. I don’t meddle in your affairs.”

“Why did they cry?” Terzo asks, unimpressed. “What did you do?”

“Why do you ask it like that?”

“It’s usually not a good sign when someone cries after making out, fratello. Don’t think I cannot see your ruined make-up. Your little assistente looked even worse.”

Secondo almost jumps from his chair. “You think I would hurt them?”

“I don’t think you would hurt them,” Terzo explains calmly. “Not physically at least. But everyone sees how they look at you, stronzo, how you look at each other.  Did you fuck up?”

Secondo breathes out a sigh, his hand relaxing as he leans back in his chair. “I don’t know.”

Terzo takes a few cautious steps towards him. “Look, I know, you’re not the type, you don’t fall in love, blablabla. But it is never too late to settle down if you find your person, you know? It may feel like giving up your freedom, but look at what you gain.” 

“Aha. And what is that?”

Terzo smirks. “Someone who puts up with all of your bullshit.”

A drawn-out pause as they stare at each other.

Finally, Secondo exhales all the stowed anger, shaking his head incredulously. “I can’t believe you’re trying to explain to me how relationships work. You.”

Terzo shrugs, moving back towards the exit. “Think about it. You are going to feel so much more balanced.”

He’s halfway out the door when Secondo notices that he never told him why he was here in the first place. Thinking back, he’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother in this workshop or anywhere close to this part of the basement before.

“What did you want down here?” he calls after him.

“Huh?” Terzo turns back to him, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ah, you know, a ghoul noticed you two were trapped in there and to be honest… I’m kind of invested now.”

✦ ✧ ✦ 

5 Returning the Favour

A note.

You pick up the weighty envelope that someone, most likely a ghoul, had delivered to you earlier by sliding it underneath your door.  The paper has your name on it in beautiful cursive, deep black ink, a green wax seal with a II stamped into it, keeping the contents safe. The note inside is written in a similar fashion, kept very brief and in neat handwriting. All it says is: My quarters, 7pm. Secondo.

Considering you spent most of the night in pure agony, this is a welcome glimmer of hope. He is reaching out and that is what matters, despite all of your doubts and anxieties telling you otherwise, obscuring the joy you should feel at the fact that things are finally moving.

You take the note and press it to your heart, sitting back down on the bed in your tiny quarters. It smells vaguely of his cologne or at least the whimsical part of you wants it to. In any case, he wrote it, thinking about you, maybe even longing for you. Your worries slowly melt at that thought, even though you’re aware you’re in love with the most unattainable man in the whole abbey.

If you had glanced outside the window in that very moment, you would have caught Secondo making his way through the gardens and to the greenhouse – a man on a mission.

He had been pondering all night what he could possible do to make it up to you, to set things right. And there is really only one thing he could think of: Food.

When you made him lunch he promised to return the favour. Another unprecedented lapse. Secondo cooks, he loves to cook, but he does not cook for his dates. It’s too intimate, too personal. His kitchen is sacred, preparing food a form of meditation after a long day. It’s a part of himself he doesn’t share with fleeting encounters.

So when he found himself in a nearby Italian market earlier, carefully choosing the ingredients for a meal, he almost felt lost. He’s bought in bulk before, he’s bought for himself before, but he’s never bought specifically for two. And most unsettlingly, it feels good.

Now, here in Primo’s sanctuary, he has almost made peace with these new developments. 

Almost.

 “Buon pomeriggio, fratello,” he greets the older man. “I am in need of some fresh basil.”

Primo immediately picks up his scissors. “Che fortunato. My basil plants are thriving at the moment.”

Secondo has no doubts about that. The smells inside the greenhouse are rich and aromatic, a sensory reminder of all the summers he spent in the Italian countryside, trying to connect with his roots. As much as he loves big cities with their bustling night lives, clubs and parties, exclusive bars and restaurants… this is home. 

While he’s busy reminiscing, Primo moves to an array of basil plants in the corner, their oval leaves a vivid shade of green. Secondo is pleased with that. They’re going to turn his dish into the most beautiful colours and since his objective for today is that everything has to be perfect, details like that matter.

“È sufficiente?” Primo asks.

“A bit more. I am cooking for two tonight.”

Primo furrows his brow, cutting some more leaves off the delicate plant. “You have a guest for dinner? Someone special, then?”

Secondo hates that he knows him so well sometimes, but Primo is the only one who was ever even close to a healthy father figure for him. His counsel is the only one he truly values, even though he is rare to seek it out these days. 

All he can do is give a curt nod in reply.

“You’re in love,” Primo states with a smile. “That is a good thing, you know?”

Secondo makes a face. “I feel like I am sick. I don’t know how people do it.”

“It will stop feeling like that at some point,” Primo explains, carefully placing the cut basil in a small basket. “You will grow to appreciate a steady presence by your side, fratello, especially when you reach my age.”

Secondo wants to reply that he doubts it, but it would be a lie to pretend he hasn’t thought about it since getting close to you. You are steady. You are smart and kind and caring, he can talk to you as well as be silent with you. There hasn’t been a single moment in all these months now in which he’s grown tired of you. And yes, that is unprecedented as well.

“Thank you for the basil,” Secondo says.

Primo gives him a gentle, brotherly smile.

✦ ✧ ✦ 

A tentative knock. 

Secondo looks up from the counter and towards the door, his heart rate quickening in a concerning jump. Another knock, more confident this time. He chuckles to himself. You’re nervous but you don’t want him to think that you are – which is exactly how he’s feeling right now.

Before he opens, he wipes his hands on his black slacks, rights the collar of his white shirt, and then there you are. There you are.

And it’s a sight he will never forget. He’s very pleased to see that you dressed up for him. When he kisses your cheek in greeting, he catches your scent and the perfume with its sweet as well as tangy notes perfectly mirrors your character. It takes everything in him to break away again.

“Thank you for following my invitation,” he says, closing the door behind you.

A shy smile. “It sounded more like an order.”

He feels his heart plummeting and for a second there is a shadow of doubt crossing his mind. “Is that the reason you came? Because you felt obligated?”

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. “No. No, I would have come either way, no matter why you want me here.”

Relief. He takes your arm and gently guides you further into the room. “I want you here because I promised to cook for you and I intend to keep that promise.”

“So, this is a dinner date?” 

“Yes.”

“A date date?”

“Yes.”

Your smile is worth it, genuine and so bright that he almost forgets what he’s supposed to do. Your lips are all he can focus on when you’re so close and it’s only when he sees them form an O that he realises he’s been staring. Secondo finally pulls you into the kitchen area and motions for you to sit on a stool at his counter. It’s surreal to see you here, such different surroundings, but it’s a sight he could get used to.

“Is that fresh basil from the greenhouse?” you ask.

Secondo values a professional mise en place, every ingredient neatly laid-out ready to be used which gives you the perfect opportunity to analyse everything he’s going to use. “It is.”

“So you did guess my favourite.”

“I didn’t guess, my dove.” He looks up at you. “You’re not the only one who is observant.”

You smirk and while he’s busy filling a big pot with water to boil the pasta you take in his quarters. Naturally, they are much bigger than yours, the kitchen and living area combined into a spacious room, all dark colours, black and grey, contrasted with a few light grey touches here and there. You notice a lingering smell of incense and what you can only assume is cigar smoke. A small serving cart turned into a bar sits next to an emerald green couch with velvet upholstering. Your eyes are drawn to a carafe filled with a dark ember liquid, sitting right next to a crystal ashtray that reflects the remainders of sunlight streaming in through the arched windows.

Secondo sets the heavy pot down on the stove and the thud makes you turn your head back to him. He’s noticed you drifting off, hoping that you like what you’re seeing, that you wouldn’t mind spending time here more often. His home in the abbey has been crafted very consciously over the past decade, every item carefully curated. He’s toying with the optimal balance between luxurious and still slightly understated, comfortable.

Your face doesn’t betray your opinion but as he turns on the stove, you slip from your stool. He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him behind the counter and tries not to let you deter him from the task at hand – salting the water, one of many steps. You come to a stop right behind him and then he feels your arms snaking around his waist, squeezing tightly as you press yourself into his back, your cheek right against his shoulder. It’s an unexpectedly tender hug, like you just need to be close to him in any way that you can, and despite your soft affection that he so struggles to accept, he’s immensely relieved to have you closer. 

Secondo lets you hold him for however long you want. He can clearly imagine your squished cheek, your puckered lips, and all he wants is to spin you around and kiss you breathless. But his plan says no physicality until after dinner. He knows he won’t be able to stop once you start touching, and he has a lot to do until then, a lot to say until then. So it’s dinner first, then discussing the necessities, and then he can fuck you.

“My dove, you’re distracting me,” he says, finally adding a generous amount of salt to the water.

“Mhm.” You duck underneath his arm and hug him sideways now, your face melting into his neck. When your nose brushes against his sensitive skin it’s almost enough to make him come undone. A shiver runs down his spine and you give a satisfied hum at his reaction. “Actually, I was wondering… is it allowed to kiss the chef?”

“Ordinarily, it’s not.”

A kiss just below his ear. “And un-ordinarily?”

Fuck his plan. 

He grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, bringing one gloved hand up to cup your cheek. He stops for a second, taking in the barely visible bruises on your jaw. With the memory of what happened in the storage room clear in his mind, he feels a jolt of lust, and then his mouth is on yours. This time, he’s not as forceful, but it’s not as soft as he would wish either. He can’t help but push his tongue into your mouth at the first opportunity, tasting you and a hint of minty toothpaste. You moan softly, clinging to the front of his shirt until he’s sure he could have spared himself the trouble of ironing it.

He breaks away, staring at your swollen lips, the skin around them all red and wet with spit.

Oh, that mouth.

He’s going to lose his mind over it, slowly but surely, and he can’t help but kiss you again, slower, deeper, exploring every inch of you with his tongue.

When he breaks away this time, you smile and the way it stretches your lips, plumps the apples of your cheeks and brings out that joyful glimmer in your eyes – it feels so personal, so very intimate to him. This kind of smile should belong to him and only him.

“Are you very worried about this?” you ask suddenly, smoothing your hand over his shirt. “About us?”

A deep, long sigh. “I worry, yes. I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

Your hand slides up his neck, softly cradling his cheek. “All I want is you, Secondo, in any way that I can.”

He smiles at the use of his name, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch. It may well be the first smile in a long time that he doesn’t even attempt to hold back, though he’s not sure if that’s true. He catches himself smiling at the mere thought of you more often than seems healthy. In your presence, his mouth does a lot of things he simply can’t control anymore.

Like kiss you again right now, fiercely, passionately, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth until you start whining. At this point, he doubts he will ever be sated. His need for you is an ever-expanding black hole and he’s teetering at the edge of being consumed himself. But he’s no stranger to uncertainty, to taking risks, as much as he hates the feeling of powerlessness. And so the next time you part, he turns off the stove despite the water almost boiling, and pulls you into his bedroom.

There should have been a conversation at some point tonight that lasted more than that one sentence of reassurance you gave him, an honest exchange of expectations, feelings and hopes, but maybe he doesn’t have to say it.

It’s a knee-jerk response, a very reactionary change of plans: Make love to you (or at least attempt it), eat dinner, then fuck you for the rest of the night.

The bedroom, unsurprisingly, is dominated by a huge four-poster bed, clad in emerald green sheets that give off a sweet scent, only overpowered by the smoky aroma of the incense burning on Secondo’s altar, the light of numerous black candles dipping the room in a warm, flickering light, heavy curtains blocking out the sun completely. 

You stand in front of his bed shivering in anticipation. 

“Two things,” he says, eyes fixated on yours. “First: In here, it is Papa. At least for now.”

You nod. 

“Second: You will tell me immediately if I do anything that you don’t like. No shame, no judgement. You use your words to let me know what you want or do not want. Yes?”

“Yes, Papa.”

He smirks. You learn fast, but he knows that already. Secondo reaches out for your hands, taking both of them in his and bringing them to his lips, gently but insistingly kissing your knuckles. In the dim light, his features look daunting, a stark contrast to his soft mouth. His eyes meet yours, fervently, longingly, and then he drops your hands and pulls you in for a real kiss. This time, knowing he won’t have to hold back anymore, he lets his hands roam free, opening buttons, freeing every inch of your skin with deft, confident fingers, until you’re completely bare in front of him. His mouth doesn’t leave yours even as you gasp for air, sucking and licking on whatever he can reach. Ultimately, he keeps your bottom lip trapped between his teeth to allow you some air, teasing it with his tongue before swallowing your next breath yet again. Meanwhile, his hands explore the outlines of your body, big, curious hands still covered in leather, mapping out every single detail.

Shaky fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt, not managing to open any of them but trailing further down until they find his belt. He allows you to fiddle with the buckle, if only because your warm fingers graze his abdomen with every attempt to open it. When you give up and reach further down, he gently removes your hands and pulls away from the kiss.

You look at him with big eyes, whimpering softly, and he can tell that you’re nervous.

“Relax, my dove,” he says, swiping his thumb over your hot cheek. “All I want is to take care of you. Now, get on the bed.”

You do as he says, so obedient. Secondo removes his belt slowly, watching you stretch out amongst his sheets and pillows. His hand falters at the sight. You’re beautiful, a dream come true, and in that moment he is immensely relieved that he did not give into his impulses before.

With your eyes on him, he removes his shirt and steps out of his pants. He didn’t bother with underwear, so when he joins you on the bed there is nothing separating you anymore. Your skin is hot under his as he crawls between your legs, towering over your shivering form.

He can’t help but kiss you once more, licking into your waiting mouth. Your hand moves to his head, scratching softly, and he hums as he allows his lips to travel to your neck. He finds a deep purple hickey there which shouldn’t come as a surprise to him since he left it there a mere day ago but the sight nevertheless makes him proud. You’re already marked as his and when the night is over, your whole body will be.

Making true on that promise, his lips trail down your body, stamping soft, lingering kisses to your chest, your nipples, licking down to your abdomen where he stays for a moment.

“Hm, così dolce,” he whispers. “So sweet.”

“Papa,” you say.

He looks up. “Yes?”

You buck your hips slightly. “I need… I need more.”

He sits back, intense eyes circling in on you as he removes his gloves, throwing them aside. “Open your mouth, tesoro, show me that sweet tongue.”

You do, poking out your tongue slightly, and he leans back over you, sliding two fingers in between your still swollen lips. You start to suck, swivelling your tongue around his digits and he can feel his cock twitching at the sight and feeling.

“So good for me, my dove,” he whispers. “So good for your Papa.”

You moan around his digits, the vibrations sending a pang of need into his body. When you start to breathe heavily through your nose, he decides that his fingers are wet enough. His hand snakes down your body, collecting more of your arousal, and then he starts working you slowly, carefully. You whimper, demanding more, but for right now he’s not going to hurry. You’re not going to come before he’s inside of you.

He continues for a bit longer until you can feel the arousal flowing through your whole body, building up into waves that make you shiver. His fingers find your waiting hole, spreading out the combination of spit and arousal on his hand and stretching you open bit by bit. His hard cock, already leaking precum, sits hot and heavy against your thigh. Mismatched eyes never leave yours, catching ever flicker of lust and pleasure in your half-lidded eyes, even as the squelching sounds between your legs get louder and you barely manage to hold his gaze anymore.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, Papa.”

“Please what?” he demands. “Words, tesoro.”

You swallow heavily, chest heaving as your body tries to search for his, but he’s hovering just above you, propped up on one arm, massaging your insides with the other.

“I want you, Papa,” you say. “Please, I need you inside of me, need to f-feel you. Please.”

Secondo could listen to you all day and maybe later he’s going to see just how long he can get you to beg, but right now he’s too impatient, too eager, spurred on by how tight and wet you feel around his fingers. His cock is aching for friction and so he removes his hand, ignoring the disapproving whine you let out.

“Since you ask so nicely,” he says.

Cock in hand, he lines himself up, carefully pushing inside. Your head falls back into the pillows as you let out a drawn-out hum, taking him so well, inch by inch, and he feels a flutter inside of his chest at the sight. Your legs wrap around his back, heels digging into his ass, and he lets his chest sink onto yours, waiting for you to relax, to adjust. Pressed together like that, a searing wave of emotion overcomes him, deep, warm, an intense longing to never let go that is utterly unfamiliar to him. He has to unload the sudden tension in a heated kiss, feeling your moans and whimpers reverberating inside of him as he slowly starts moving.

He tries to make it last, to keep up a careful, deliberate rhythm. He really, really tries, biting his lip to hold back, but he soon has to go faster to stay sane. More desperate noises from you as his thrusts get harder and weeks of held-back need for you spill out from inside of him. Attaching his lips to the still unmarked side of your soft neck, he starts sucking, biting, trying to absorb you into him. You keen, one hand on his neck, the other tightly grabbing his shoulder for support. With a pop, he removes his mouth to take a deep breath and your expression is hazy, eyes clouded with lust. He shifts his weight onto one arm, angling your hips up slightly and you clench around him over and over again at the changed angle, crying out softly at every roll of his hips. He feels himself getting close and to his relief he can tell you’re getting there too, trembling underneath him more and more.

“Please,” you say, strangled, whimpery. “Please, Papa, I n-need to– need to come.”

He growls, bringing his hand between your bodies to help you over the edge. It’s strenuous, his arm protesting wildly, but when he feels your sticky arousal on his fingers, it’s enough to keep him going.

“Come for me,” he says. “Come on my cock, tesoro. You’ve been so good for your Papa.”

It’s all you need, two more thrusts and a few words of praise, and you tighten around him, crying out as your whole body shudders. He gives a few more laborious thrusts to draw out your pleasure before he finally changes the angle, taking the weight off his arm until he can pound into you harder, chasing his own release. His hips snap against yours, loud obscene sounds, and you whimper in overstimulation, arms wrapping around him gently as he stills. A low moan leaves his burning throat and he spills inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His hips stutter a few more times before he rolls onto his side, dragging you with him.

Heavy, panting breaths fills the sudden silence of the room. Secondo pulls you close and you settle against his chest, breathing kisses to his sweaty skin, softly licking up the column of his throat. He only hums and for a long time, you stay like this, tangled up in silky sheets and the comfort of each other. His hold on you is so tight that you don’t, not even for a second, doubt whether he meant everything that just happened, all the things he can’t bring himself to tell you yet but that you can feel so clearly even in his silence – and for now, that’s enough.

“You sabotaged my dinner plans,” he finally whispers, breathing more slowly now. “I didn’t even get to open the wine.”

You chuckle against his neck. “Would you like me to help you preparing it now?”

Secondo sighs deeply, pulling you closer. “No, my dove, give your Papa a few more minutes of this, yes?”

By the way you can feel him twitching against your belly, you highly doubt that it’s only going to be a few more minutes. He knows this too, his plans long abandoned, and when you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes full of reverent love for an old man like him, he starts to embrace all of the changes you bring into his life. Maybe Terzo was right after all, maybe it’s never too late, not even for someone like him.

Thank you for reading! I know this was very long but believe me, writing it was a pain too :D I hope you enjoyed it – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always very appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

AS MY TREAT I WANT THE MOST SILLY, GOOFY AAA HCS OF THE PAPA'S.

Like idk Copia used to have to wear earplugs because Terzo snores so loudly it's literally obnoxious or something like that.

“aww my middle finger likes you”

❤︎ synopsis — this is pure bullshittery and crack in its finest form with the papas. they can be a little crazy at times

pairing: all papa emeritus’ x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)

theme: crack ✦ , fluff ✿ (if you squint)

a/n: this is a toast to my bestie for being an absolute chad. i was high making these, enjoy.

cw: terzo is a warning enough on his own. that’s it.

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➵ papa primo

he’s the oldest so he constantly has to deal with the shit from his psychopathic brothers

like— primo is basically THE mom friend, except he’s the mom for moe, larry and curly over here

(moe, larry and curly being secondo, terzo and copia)

he constantly had to hold back secondo from beating the shit out of terzo because terzo made fun of him for being bald

“I’M GONNA RIP OFF YOUR WEAVE—“ “SECONDO NO—“

bro unironically listens to weezer

like full out busting down a just dance move to this music

you once caught him dancing to it, and he stood there frozen like the man emoji

he told you to never speak of it again and you just nodded, trying to plague your mind of that horrendous image

primo cannot cook for shit too btw

you were once out and asked him to make something before you got home to the ministry

the minute you walked in the door, the kitchen stove was on fire and all of primo’s ghouls were running around and screaming in infernal about the fire

meanwhile, primo stood there not knowing what to do, looking like the man emoji AGAIN

it’s basically his trademark at this point

“…. primo what the absolute fuck—“ “it wasn’t me i swear.”

while primo’s ghouls were still learning english, he once said “fuck you” to you in a very sarcastic way

but the ghouls thought it was how humans said “hello” in english

so they went around to the other siblings of sin, and sister imperator saying “fuck you” to them while leaving all those poor people offended and dumbfounded

you smacked the back of his head after that and forced him to apologize to his ghouls and to the siblings of sin (plus imperator of course)

and he gave the ghouls extra scritches too

primo also has the dad sneeze

like he can send another universe to the next tomorrow with his goofy ass sneeze

he once sneezed so loud he scared copia and caused him to bang his head on the wall

it was kinda funny tbh

anyways yeah note to self stay 10000 feet away from primo if he’s on the verge of sneezing

it’ll save your life

┅✦┅

➵ papa secondo

secondo has two moods

“oh my satan you’re all so stupid i literally hate you all” and “tee hee i’m a girly girl”

like ??? what’s this guy on???

this guy has the sass of a high school history teacher

like secondo’s being so deadass about whatever he’s saying but he’s always fucking saying it like—

“c’mon now, you literally have the style of a hairless roach 💅”

it confuses you a lot of the time, really

secondo has his moments where he’s sweet, but for the most part he’s pulling up the middle finger to everyone he sees

it’s a habit

someone could say hi to him in the nicest way possible and he’ll just grumble and flip them off

it’s not even that he’s trying to be mean, it’s a habit (a very bad habit)

you once got tired of it and smacked his hand, when he flipped you off. so it’s safe to say he no longer does it

at least to you

secondo is an absolute menace to his brothers

with primo he’s chill because he’s the eldest, but with the younger two he’s got no chill

definitely made copia cry at some point during his younger years

he later got his ass chewed out by you and primo, because no one makes copia cry

secondo’s literally so bossy it’s kinda funny

he’s always one flip flop away from smacking someone every time someone pisses him off

him and terzo are BEEFING all the time

and it’s over the stupidest shit too

“you’re stupid.” “well, you’re face is stupid” “you’re both stupid, end of the discussion.”

you once switched out all of his skull face paint for a pink barbie pallet

so secondo was walking around lookin’ like hello kitty emeritus and everyone was trying so hard not to laugh

even his ghouls were struggling too

“… secondo—“ “not. another. word.”

┅✦┅

➵ papa terzo

bro’s the fuckin’ definition of fruity

you thought secondo was girly pop?? wait ‘till you see terzo, he’s fucking extravagant

will literally show up in the grocery store lookin’ like a character ripped straight from criminal minds

like— he has to make a show EVERYWHERE he goes. he likes to stand out

terzo is also the type of man to wear skirts and dresses because he knows he’s hot shit and he devours every fit he puts together

he shows off that waist frfr

“… terzo what the fuck—“ “shut up you know i’m sexy and i’m going to show it.”

if you wear skirts or dresses he’ll definitely ask to borrow them

he definitely passed down his fruitiness to copia

and to his ghouls

he scams kids on adopt me and has a good laugh every time because he likes to see people get mad at him since he stole their hella expensive pet from them

primo told him to quit it because what kind of satanic pope scams poor little children on a roblox game?

as stylish as terzo is, he cannot do his hair and makeup to save his life

he’ll usually ask you to do it for him wherever he has to perform or do public events, which is why his face paint is simple compared to secondo and primo

it gives you two bonding time though and it’s cute

he once watched the pinkie pie smile hd video and was traumatized for a few days

like he straight up locked himself in his room and would not come out unless you convinced him to do so

during an after party after a concert ritual, he got so wasted and almost kissed omega

like you had to PRY this man off of the poor ghoul, while omega stood there unaffected (hehe tall buff demon boy)

terzo is the shortest emeritus and none of his brothers will let him live it down

ESPECIALLY copia, since he’s younger than him

terzo almost kicked him in the nuts because of that

but that definitely was a stab to his already massive ego

you reassured him that there’s nothing wrong with his height even though you found some of the jokes his brothers made funny

live laugh love terzo

┅✦┅

➵ papa copia

copia doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time

like he’s just given a mic and he just wings a performance while the ghouls on stage are fucking around and going absolutely feral

out of all the papas, copia legitimately treats his ghouls like his own kids

he feels like he’s getting more grey hairs every time he has to stop swiss from fucking his own guitar, or sodo and phantom from fighting about cheese sticks

you sometimes help copia do ghoul-sitting and it’s just chaos. you’re literally their second parent

copia and you = parent duo for the era iv ghouls

he unironically owns a lot of funko pops

and he keeps the one of himself on a special pedestal in a glass case for safe keeping

though secondo almost once knocked over the case and he was three seconds away from smiting a bitch

you once were looking for copia because you wanted to ask him something and you found him in a ritual room

except the ritual was that he surrounded himself with a bunch of rat plushies and he was on his knees in front of a picture of a rat with a tiny crown

you were so confused, and he refuses to acknowledge what that was

“…. copia i—“ “you didn’t see anything.”

he fucking washes himself with dish soap and laundry detergent

this man is going around smelling like dawn dish soap and it’s so weird

it’s not that it even smells bad??? it just smells so interesting and strong you swear you’re in a fever dream

copia is an avid mitski fan

definitely cried his eyes out like a little bitch when he first listened to “the land is inhospitable and so are we” because he couldn’t get over how sad “my love mine all mine was”

radiates theater kid energy

but like— the kind of theater kid that is just passionate about theater and is very giddy when people ask about it

when he started his first meeting as papa he got so nervous that he straight up started the meeting with the word “mushroom”

like it’s so random ??? but it made the ghouls and you giggle so it somewhat worked out ??

copia is a little silly

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