#popia fanfiction

[ramblingoak]

On my way in your ask box oakie for the kiss prompt: confessing in the heat of the moment, leading to a kiss (if you squint enough it definitely be angst 👀) with Copia

Alright Birb I leaned heavily into the angst but hopefully I made up for it with some extra kissing 😘

Don't Go

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ While trying to convince Papa to cancel the tour you end up confessing how you feel about him...

Warnings: angst, brief (sexy) angry Copia, grinding, fluff, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2500 words

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“I don’t want you to go.”

Copia froze at his desk at your words.  He opened his mouth a few times but seemed at a loss as to how to respond.  You looked back down at your laptop but the words on the screen started blurring together when your eyes teared up.  This had been eating at you for weeks now and it should have felt better to say it out loud to Papa.  Instead his silence at your confession hung heavy in the room.  Finally his chair creaked and when you glanced at him he had set his pen down and was leaning back watching you.

“Cara…why do you say this?”

You took a deep breath to collect yourself, crying in front of him wouldn’t help the situation at all. 

“I’m worried, Papa.  I’ve been worried.” 

His chair creaked again and you heard his soft footfalls as he rounded his desk to come closer.  You stiffened in your chair because if he got too close you were afraid you’d throw yourself into his lap wailing.  He either didn’t notice your body language or didn’t care because he stepped right up to your chair.  His gloved hand rested over where yours was gripping the chair’s arm and he kneeled down to look up at you.  You couldn’t help but laugh when he groaned as his knees popped, Copia muttered something in Italian before smiling. 

“Look at you, laughing at your Papa.”  He clicked his tongue as he shook his head.  “There are far better ways to get me on my knees for you, cara mia.”

“Papa!” 

It was his turn to laugh and despite how much his comment made your cheeks heat up you rolled your eyes.  You needed him to be serious right now!  If he started talking about being on his knees in front of you, well…

“Hey, stop thinking those dirty thoughts now and tell me what’s wrong.”

He squeezed your hand while bringing his other one up to rub your shoulder, doing his best to soothe you. 

“I think something terrible is going to happen on the tour.”  When he gave you a curious look you decided to go for broke.  “You need to cancel it.  You need to stay here.”

You left off the ‘with me’ because despite how much you wanted to keep Copia at your side you just wanted him to be safe.  It didn’t matter where or with who. 

“Why do you think this?”  His voice was gentle as he spoke but his eyebrows were furrowed like they got when he was confused.  “Have you seen something?  Has someone said something?”

“Papa, no, I haven’t…no one has said anything.  I just, no wait, Papa!”  You clutched at his hand when he stood up and took a step back.  He didn’t look angry thankfully, but he was certainly confused.  “Copia, please, I know it sounds ridicul—“

“Si, it sounds very ridiculous.  So what, you want me to cancel an entire tour because you have bad feelings?” 

He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms.  You ignored the way the fabric of his shirt pulled tight around his shoulders, something you regularly enjoyed looking at, and stood up to face him.  With your hand in the air you started to tick down all your reasons for asking him to stay, lowering your fingers as you went.

“I have heard rumors, don’t roll your eyes!  Rumors from everyone, both human and ghoul alike.  I’ve seen Imperator and Nihil schedule meeting after meeting without inviting you.”  When he muttered that he ‘was busy’ under his breath you scoffed at him.  “You are not that busy, I make your damn schedule Copia!” 

“There are always rumors, always!  And who cares if Imperator and Nihil are having meetings together?  Do you really want to know what they get up to in her office?  Alone?”

Your frustration bubbled up at the teasing tone in his voice and when the corner of his painted lips curled up in a smirk you lost your composure.  With a growl you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him.  He stumbled back against his desk with a grunt, cursing as the edge dug sharply into his hip.  You instantly regretted it, your aim was to keep Papa safe, not lose your temper like a child.

“Copia, I’m sor—hey!” 

With a growl he straightened up and stalked your way, grabbing your elbows and propelling you backwards until you met the wall.  He planted his fist next to your head and glared at you.  Some of his hair had fallen over his forehead, the graying strands in desperate need of a trim.  They laid across his eyes, both of them filled with anger. 

“It’s Papa, cara mia, Papa.  You forget yourself.”  You gave him a stiff nod, once more desperately trying to hold in your tears.  He sighed suddenly, reaching up to stroke a thumb across your cheek.  “I appreciate your concern, but you’ve told me nothing that would even have me consider canceling a meeting, let alone a whole tour.” 

“What about your brothers?”  When he just raised his eyebrow you decided to keep going.  “None of your brothers lasted this long, the Ministry always found something wrong and demanded a change.”

“The title of Papa doesn’t come with an expiration date.”

“Not an official one, but look at what they did to Terzo!  Not even Omega knew that was going to happen.”

“Si, because if Omega knew he would’ve stopped it.  If anyone had known we would have demanded it happen behind closed doors.  Terzo might’ve lost sight of what it meant to be Papa, but he deserves his dignity.”

“And so do you!”  The tension in Copia’s body seemed to leave him and he relaxed his posture a bit.  He still hovered over you but his anger had at least dissipated.  “Do you want to be dragged off the stage in the middle of a song?” 

He let out an incredulous laugh and wagged a finger in front of your face as he responded.

“If you think any of my ghouls would let that happ—“

“But what if they want it to happen?  What if they’re told to let it happen?” 

“You are mistaken, cara.  I trust my ghouls, all of them, with my life.  Anyone that raised a hand towards me would be eviscerated and probably eaten.  Especially if Cumulus got a hold of them.” 

Copia’s brow furrowed again when he looked you over, he must’ve noticed your hands had started to shake.  You couldn’t help but let your emotions, your fear, take over.  It didn’t help with how dismissive he was being.  When he took your hands in his own you let out a broken sob, shaking your head angrily to try and get yourself under control.

“Papa please, I know it sounds crazy.”

“Do you?  I’m not sure you’re hearing yours—“

“And I know you don’t believe me, I know you don’t see what I see.”

“There’s nothing to see!  You haven’t shown me anyth—“

“I just care about you so much and the thought of losing you is unbearable.  I can’t stop worrying about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, cara mia.   Except maybe the heat at all these damned outdoor ven—“

“I just wish you’d take me seriously!  I wish you’d just stay.”

“Then give me an actual reason to!”

“I love you!”  Copia’s mouth fell open and he took a step back, dropping your hands as he went.  Your heart clenched painfully in your chest to see him move away but you decided to keep talking.  It was too late to take it back anyway.  “I love you, I’ve loved you for so long now.  Even before you became Papa, before you became a Cardinal!” 

“But…all this time?  Why did you never say anything?” 

You snorted, angrily swiping at the tears on your cheeks.

“Because out of all the siblings and ghouls in the congregation Copia Emeritus would choose me?  I’d rather be realistic, Papa.  It’s better than being heartbroken.” 

“Well, what about me?”  When you looked up at him he gave you a gentle smile.  “What about my heart, eh?” 

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

You held your breath when Copia stepped closed again.  Only shakily letting it out when he brushed your tears away once more. 

“Can I show you how I feel?  Is that ok?”  You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.  “Okie dokie.”

Slowly, so very slowly he leaned in close and pressed a kiss along your brow.  He cradled your head in his hands as he kissed you again, a little further down this time onto the tip of your nose.  When he moved so his lips hovered over yours you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering his title. 

“Papa, I—“

“Copia, per favore.  I want you to use my name.”  You nodded, your trembling hands coming up to cover his own.  His name escaped your lips, barely louder than a whisper, but it made him smile all the same.  “Bene.  Now, where was I?” 

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“Si, I’ve been wanting to for quite some time.”

“Oh.”  He pressed another kiss on your nose, laughing when you frowned at him when he moved his head away.  “For how long?” 

“Ah, probably since my days as a nervous Bishop.”

“Seriously?!  Since you were a Bish—mmph!”

His lips were warm against yours as he kissed you.  He was gentle at first, like he was afraid he’d scare you off, but your mind was still stuck on him having feelings for you for so long.  For as long as you had them for him! 

You didn’t want gentle kisses.

Your hands left his and you reached out to grip his vest.  With a tug you had him stumbling against you, pressing you back against the wall.  His knee slipped in between your legs and you found yourself rubbing against it embarrassingly fast.  He pulled his mouth away to sweep his thumb along your bottom lip before leaning in again.

His kisses were hungrier this time, more demanding.  You met each swipe of his tongue with your own, nipping him back when his teeth got involved.  One of his hands dropped to your waist, kneading your flesh through your top.  When the fabric rode up and he was able to press his leather glove against your skin you moaned into his mouth.  He pulled away with a groan you felt rumble under your hands. 

“Look at you, so needy for me.”  You huffed and narrowed your eyes at him, but he just laughed and pressed against you.  His hips were flush against your own and your mouth fell open when you felt his hard cock.  “Do you feel that?  I’m needy for you too.  I have been for so long, for too long.  I should’ve said something sooner.”

“I should have too.”

“We will just have to make up for lost time, eh?”  He ground his hips against you and your head fell back against the wall with a thunk.  “I need to show you how much I love you.” 

You felt embarrassed when you started crying again, but it felt so good to hear those words.  To hear him tell you that he felt the same.  With a shaky breath you looked up at him, smiling as you took in his messed up paint and wild hair. 

“I’m sorry about earlier.” 

“Ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for, amore.  But I have an idea that might make you feel better.”  You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down to his crotch, it was only for a moment but by the sound of that dirty chuckle of his you knew he saw it.  “Besides that, of course.  Although I promise there will be plenty of that.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Come with me.”  Your head snapped up in surprise, looking over his features for even a hint that he was joking.  “I should have planned on bringing you from the beginning.  I’d be lost without my assistant.  Without you.”

“Is that, I mean, will Imperator be ok with that?”

“Who gives a fuck what she thinks, I am Papa and I am demanding you come.  That is, if you want to?”

You let out a squeal and threw your arms around his neck.

“Yes!  Yes of course I do!”

“Bene, you can help keep me safe, huh?”  He hissed when you tugged on his hair.  “I’d take you as my bodyguard over an army of ghouls any day.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you, not as passionately as before but you could feel the emotion behind it.  You tried to convey how you felt as you kissed him back.  The worry was still there, but at least you’d be with him.  You could keep an eye out when he got distracted by whatever new sparkly jacket he decided to order.  After a moment he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours and humming softly.

“Thank you, Copia.”

“You deserve my thanks more.”  He huffed out a laugh and kissed your forehead before pulling away.  With a groan he reached down and adjusted his pants, biting his lip when he looked at you while he touched himself.  “I have big plans, I can’t wait for you to see them!”

“Oh yeah, like what?  Are you going to play baseball again?”

“Something better, I promise.” 

He mimed throwing a few punches, bouncing on his feet as he did.  With a laugh you stepped forward and grabbed his hands out of the air.  It was his turn to pout and you kissed his knuckles in an apology for spoiling his fun.

“How about right now?”  He raised an eyebrow and you stepped closer, letting his hands go so you could trace the patterns on his vest.  “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Si, si I do.”  Copia leaned his face close while he waggled his eyebrows.  “Big ones.”

You snorted when he did a few of his famous “mummy thrusts”, shaking your head at his antics.  Your heart ached because you loved him so much, you wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him. 

“Promise me, Copia.  Promise me everything will be ok.” 

“Better than ok, amore.”  He leaned forward to kiss you quickly, nipping at your bottom lip when he pulled away.  “Everything will be okie dokie, I promise.” 

You nodded, trusting him because you had no reason not to. 

“Good.  Now…”  He groaned as one of your hands slid down to rub his cock through his pants.  “How about you show me this big plan of yours.” 

He reached down and covered your hand with his own, encouraging you to rub harder.    Copia’s eyes met yours as he gave you a wide smile.

“Okie dokie.”

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my masterlist

my ao3

[writingjourney]

Honey and Venom | Papa IV x f!Reader

Or: The four times you fell for your best friend without noticing and the one time you did.

Summary: You’ve been Copia’s best friend for years, unaware of just how deep your feelings go. It's only when he shows you his new stage outfit, that you realise friendship is not all that you feel for him. A difficult conversation leads to confessions… and exploring how easily (or not) the outfit can be removed.

Content: ~9.5k words (i know, i'm sorry), lots of fluff and pining, kinda slow-burn, best friends to lovers, part v contains smut (18+ only, MDNI, mostly sweet, some marking, oral sex f receiving, vaginal sex, nothing too specific) tldr: two oblivious idiots in love

Ao3 link – Masterlist

I.

The first time you fall for your best friend without noticing it… well, you have technically already fallen – and he isn’t your best friend yet. You’re lying on the floor, covered in dust and the fifteen library books you had been carrying in a terrifyingly high stack. Not innocent but feeling very much betrayed, you glance at the perpetrator and find…

A tricycle?

„Oh, no, no, no,“ is all you hear before you see a whoosh of red fabric crouching down beside you. „I just parked it for one second! Are you alright, sorella?“

In hindsight, you’re laughing about it and so does Copia. All of it happened three years ago, when he used to be an awkward Cardinal who was riding his tricycle around the abbey, bumping into all kinds of corners – and you. The resounding noise of the falling books echoed through the halls of the abbey like it continues to echo in your mind whenever you think about that day. Just like you still see his mismatched eyes staring into yours in absolute horror when he leaned over you in the following quiet. You only fell for him an hour later when you saw those eyes shining, lashes meeting in the corners as he gave you his first genuine smile. Not that you’re aware of it just yet.

„What are you thinking about?“ 

You look up. „Hm?“

Your Papa, in full make-up and his robed, mitred glory, does not look like the shy Cardinal you met at all. No, he stands before you like he commands every room. And he will command the congregation in ten minutes when Mass begins, once you helped him put on his robes. Not that he needs you to do it, but it has become some sort of ritual.

„Your mind seems to be somewhere far away,“ he explains.

You hand him his gloves. „I just thought about how we met. And how far you’ve come.“

He smiles. „One of the best days of my life, no doubt. I would not be here if you had not stumbled over my little vehicle, amore.“

You shake your head. „You would be, Papa. I have no doubts about that. All I do is listen to your thoughts and hype you up. I am practically a cheerleader.“

With practised movements he yanks the gloves onto his hands, sprawling his fingers like a surgeon as he pulls them down. You watch him round the table, now in his full outfit, an unusually stern expression on his face.

He stops before you, one of the gloved fingers tilting your chin up. „I won’t hear any of this, amore. You do so much more. You are so much more.“

“Copia–“

„You understand your Papa?“

You nod. „Yes.“

The solemn expression turns into a laugh and he clasps his hands together. „Then let’s fucking go. I have some ministering to do and I better see you in first row with some pompoms, doing a sexy little dance, eh?“

You roll your eyes at him but follow his cackling out of the door anyway. He may be the most powerful man in the church now, but deep down he’s still your silly best friend.

II.

The next time you fall for your best friend without noticing it starts with a touch. A kiss, to be precise.

The smell of food in your nostrils is unbearable, stomach growling as you wait for what feels like an eternity in front of the heavy wooden door. You’re about to fish your phone out of your hoodie’s pocket when he opens. „Amore?“

Copia calls you amore whenever you’re alone, rarely ever using sister or sorella anymore unless someone is with you. You are not… a couple. But he insists it’s the only name that feels right for you. Not your name, not a random nickname. Always amore.

„Papa,“ you say. „I brought food. How does dinner together sound to you?“

He smiles gratefully. „How did you know I was not in the mood for company?“

„I am company.“

„Yes, but… good company.“ He steps aside to let you in. „The best.“

Copia’s quarters, now that he’s Papa, are much nicer than before. You had to convince him to get some new things because you were tired of eating on the floor whenever you came over for lack of proper seating. The first thing he acquired was a comfortable couch that you helped him choose and that you settle on now, unpacking the Chinese food you brought on a similarly new coffee table.

„How was your day?“ you ask when he sits down next to you. „Stressful?“

One glance at him is answer enough. Even though the Papal paint hides the shadows under his eyes you can see how tired he is. He’s stripped off most of his robes apart from a black frilly shirt and his regular black pants. His hair stands up at odd angles and there are ink stains on his ungloved hands. When you glance over, you notice a huge stack of papers on his desk.

„Actually, I should still be working,“ he says, grabbing one of the paper boxes with food.

„No, actually, you should eat something,“ you correct him. „And let me take care of you for a bit before you collapse. You’re no help for the clergy if you work yourself to death.“

Copia sighs, a timid smile working its way on his face. „What would I do without you, amore?“

In a lapse of self-control you lift your hand and comb one of the stray pieces of his hair down. The touch makes him freeze which in turn makes you freeze and you only realise your hand is still on his face when he leans into your palm, his soft cheek warm against your skin. He looks so weary, so utterly exhausted.

Your throat is suddenly dry and you swallow. „I don’t like seeing you so overworked, Papa. It worries me.“

„I’m fine, amore, I promise,“ he says. „It was a long week.“

„What can I do to help?“

He huffs out a laugh. „You are already doing more than you should.“

His hand finds yours where it rests on his cheek and he brings it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. Your heart clenches, overwhelmed by the tender gesture, by the warmth of his bigger hand covering yours. His soft lips leave a wet imprint on your skin and when he lets go of you in favour of eating, you remain dazed, puzzled. You struggle to grab your own food box, scared of losing the ghost of his kiss on your palm.

Copia, seemingly unaware, munches on his spring rolls. „What do you say? We watch a movie and relax together? I think that would make me feel better and it would ease your worries.“

You nod with a smile, trying to shake the tingling sensation in your fingertips. In that moment, you feel another tickle but this time on your leg. Looking down, you see one of Copia’s furry friends trying to get your attention. „Oh, what are you doing here, Fagiolo?“

„Ah yes, I forgot I had him out of his cage,“ Copia says. „He was keeping me company. Well, chewing on my papers more like.“

You pick up the rat, letting it settle into your lap. „You want our leftovers, huh? Have to wait a bit longer, my love.“

Fagiolo doesn’t mind. He’s Copia’s most patient rat, the most well-behaved, too, and he loves sleeping in pockets so much that you’re sure he’s gonna bridge the time with a nice little nap. Just like expected, he climbs into the pocket of your hoodie and gets comfortable.

„Look how cute he is, Copia! Look at his lil face peeking out!“

„He is,“ Copia agrees, but he’s not looking at the rat. Instead he’s smiling at you with so much warmth in his eyes that you’re melting. „He is, amore. Just like you.“

III.

You sit in the refectory for a late lunch, eating a sandwich and scribbling down notes for an upcoming lecture you’re doing for the new initiates You hoped most of the clergy was finished with lunch by now, but it’s still noisy and distracting. There is a group of Siblings at the table next to yours, in particular, who are chatting and laughing and gossiping with no shame. One of the Sisters in particular seems to be the object of interest. As soon as she sits down with them, everyone’s eyes focus on her.

„So who were you with last night? You never came back to your room,“ one of them says.

The Sister giggles. „I can’t tell you. No. I just can’t.“

„Come on. That Brother who’s been flirting with you for the past month?“

„No, you’ll never guess. Don’t even try!“ 

It’s clear she wants them to try anyway. The others indulge her, loudly complaining, urging her to disclose her secret until she relents. The table goes quiet, preparing to catch her speaking under her breath. „I was with… with Papa.“

The supposed whisper is so loud that half of the room can hear it and they all glance at you, knowing you and Copia are friends. So you pretend you haven’t heard it. Pretend you’re focused on the notepad right next to your plate, scribbling random letters down to appear busy.

„How was it?“ someone asks.

„It was great,“ she says. „I got to try out that thing I’ve always wanted to try out. I think he was really impressed. I won’t be surprised if it happens again!“

Your pen gives off a pained cracking sound and you realise you’ve used so much force that it nearly snapped. When you glance down at the notepad, there are only four bold letters where you were tracing the lines over and over until the paper is stretched so thin it threatens to rip.

FUCK.

Your day is ruined and you’re not even sure why. You’ve wanted him to find relief for some of his stress for a while now and what better way than a night of passion? The sister was beautiful, she seemed to be a real sweetheart. Maybe he has genuine interest in her, maybe this could mean he’s on his way to finding happiness. You’re happy for him. So happy.

But why do you feel like someone kicked you in the guts, multiple times, with combat boots?

You’re lucky you’re on library duty this evening because you’re not sure you could be a polite member of the clergy right now. Something is wrong with you and it unsettles you. What is it about the situation that bothers you so much?

You nearly jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear steps coming up to the desk you’re nearly falling asleep at. It’s Papa, wearing a dark cassock, Grucifix jangling in front of him as he approaches. But he’s not in the exuberant mood you expect him to be in. Instead of a warm glow he exudes a depressed energy. He seems tired, unsmiling, almost hungover, really. Pale and jittery, he looks like he needs to throw up.

„Co– eh, Papa,“ you greet him.

You still struggle not calling him Copia. He doesn’t mind you not addressing him by his title but you don’t want any privileges. Being friends with him already makes it harder to connect to the other Siblings. They would be even less accepting if you lost all propriety.

„Hello, amore,“ he says, a tired edge to his voice. „I have some books to return to you.“

You give him a kind smile. „You know you don’t have to do that yourself, right?“

„I wanted to. I knew you’d be here and I felt like seeing you.“

„What’s wrong?“ 

He raises his brows. „What do you mean?“

„You look like you’re getting sick,“ you say. „Are you unwell?“

Copia shakes his head, waving you off like he often does when you show concern. „No, no. I am fine. Not in the best of moods today, maybe.“

„I would expect you to be elated today,“ you say. „Floating, really.“

„Why?“ He hands you the two books he’s been carrying under his arm, still staring at them as you reach out to scan them. „Did I miss something?“

„Well, how was it?“

„How was what, amore?“

„Your… company last night. I heard some Siblings talking earlier.“

He looks up, clearly surprised and overwhelmed by the question. „It was… ugh… okay. It was fine.“

Your eyes meet. „Fine?“

A shrug. „You know.“

„I know?“

He’s flustered, uncomfortable, but you cannot go back now. So you tilt your head to the side in question.

„Sometimes you need to… to scratch an itch,“ he explains. „And it feels good in the moment, but when you’re done… you realise it was not the right way to go about it and then the sting hurts more than before. It actually becomes really fucking painful.“

Brow furrowed, you take in his tense stance, the way his ears are red, how he avoids your gaze. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you suppose. He knows you’re not… getting a lot of intimacy. Of course he wouldn’t brag about having an amazing night, he is quiet about these things, discreet.

„So, she wasn’t…“ You try to find the right words. „Not… what you thought?“

„Oh, she was great. No, she was really… beautiful. And all of that.“

That answer is enough to make you regret ever asking. What did you think he would say? You don’t want to hear any of the juicy details. In fact, you would rather rip your ears off than hear any more about it. So you backtrack, using the opportunity to finish with his books. „Sorry, I mean… it’s none of my business really.“

Copia waves off. „No, you’re my best friend, of course you are interested. You would tell me, too, right?“

„Yes, of course. I would… I would totally tell you if there was someone.“

Copia looks at you expectantly when you don’t continue. „So?“

„So?“

„So, is there someone?“

„No. No one.“

You stare at each other for a moment, then. It’s hard to hide how this is affecting you. The thought of him with literally anyone seems wrong and you have to admit that you can’t imagine being with anyone right now either. This friendship with him is all you really care about. Maybe that’s enough for you. It doesn’t seem to be for him. If he starts seeing someone for real, what will become of it? Will he forget about you?

„Mi dispiace,“ he says. „I know I am overly worried again and you don’t like that, but, amore… you seem…“

„I’m completely normal,“ you interrupt before he can pinpoint what’s wrong with you. „I don’t know what you mean.“

„So there is nothing weighing on your heart?“

You shake your head, forcing out a smile. „No, I’m okay. I’m great, actually.“

„Good, then give me a hug,“ he says, opening his arms widely in a theatrical gesture. It’s one of his strategies, a last resort, asking for hugs whenever he feels like something is off with you because it’s the only way you’ll soften up to him. The only way you don’t shut down.

This is something that started way back when he was still Cardinal. You’d been relatively new as well and struggled with loneliness. Opening up to anyone, making friends, it’s always been hard. After your fateful encounter, meeting the bumper of his tricycle by accident, he almost begged you to make it up to you by carrying the books he made you drop. That day you felt awfully lonely and so you let him trail after you, glad to have some sort of company. You talked to him all afternoon, realising how much you had missed easy conversation, and at some point you just randomly started crying because it felt so nice to have someone listen in earnest. He’d tried to coax the reason out of you, but you just assured him you were okay. Of course he didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t pressure you for details. Instead he asked if a simple hug would help.

He’s been hugging you when you’re trying to shut him out ever since.

And it makes your walls crumble every single time.

You step out from behind the desk and let him embrace you. Initially, you struggle not to imagine him holding the other Sister in his arms like that. But then his hand moves into your hair and he starts scratching your scalp just how he knows you enjoy and, in an instant, all of that is forgotten. You exhale slowly, then breathe him in. He smells heavily of incense and smoke. You get lightheaded from the heady scent, melting into him. Or maybe it’s just his proximity, the way he’s surrounding you so completely.

„Come over tonight?“ he whispers. „We can watch that movie you wanted to see before you fell asleep on me last time.“

Your stomach drops like you’re on a rollercoaster, heat rushing to your cheeks. You whimper into his neck, the sound muffed by his collar.

„Is that a yes?“

„Yes.“

IV.

The last time you fall for your best friend without noticing it he stands you up for dinner. 

It is not like you have a fixed appointment or that you always have dinner together. But most evenings you simply end up at the same table in the refectory, eating together like an old married couple, talking about your respective days. The domesticity of it is your favorite thing. It just feels so natural. And now, sitting by yourself because no one really dares to be your friend, you just feel pathetic.

So after dinner, you end up looking for Copia anyway, convinced that he’s still working somewhere and just forgot to check the clock every once in a while. You forgo getting him food, deciding to just fetch him something later in case he hasn’t eaten yet. The man really needs to take better care of himself, but he’s so bad at accepting it.

You find him on a blood-red chaise longue near one of many fireplaces that keep the library warm and the books dry. At this hour, he has swapped the papal robes for his lighter black cassock that reminds you of his Cardinal days. He reclines comfortably with an old book on his lap and a notepad beside him. Of course he’s still working.

„Amore,“ he says, looking up when you approach.

„Oh, I didn’t think you’d be busy,“ you say. „I can come by later.“

„No. Please join me,“ he says. „I am preparing a sermon for Sunday Mass.“

„Only if I won’t bother you.“

„You could not even if you tried. I relish in your company too much to ever tire of you.“ 

You’re elated by his words, a warm, comfortable feeling settling in your chest, tickling the insides of your ribcage. There is enough space for you next to him, so you pull your legs up and turn sideways to face him.

„I can use your opinion.“ He turns to you, a sheepish smile on his lips. „You are always so good with words. See, the topic of the sermon is… love. It is about how the most blissful feelings always carry the potential for pain with them. How do you like this quote?“ He takes his notepad, reading from his own messy handwriting. „Amore et melle et felle es fecundissimus.“

„Love is rich with honey…“

„…and venom.“

You smile, letting the words linger in your ears. „Love is both sweet and bitter.“

Copia stares at you with a penetrating gaze, nodding slowly. „Yes, it is.“

„I like it, very fitting,“ you say, taking the book from his lap as it threatens to fall. The language of love. A near ancient copy, the pages covered in dust and yellowed by decades of sunlight.

„It is very true, don’t you think?“ Copia asks, averting his gaze almost urgently like he can’t bear to look at you.

„It is,“ you agree, frowning. „How did you come up with the topic for the sermon?“

He scribbles in his notebook. „Ah, you know. Uhm… I think someone suggested it. Because it is Valentine’s Day soon.“

„That’s only in three weeks.“

„Yes, but… what better topic than love, eh?“ He chuckles and you wonder if you’re imagining the nervous tint to it. „Anyway, what brings you to me?“

„Oh, I just thought we hadn’t seen much of each other today,“ you explain. „And I missed you during dinner.“

„I missed you, too. I am sorry, I was dining out.“

„Oh.“ You ignore the pang in your chest. „So, that’s… that’s how you thought of the topic.“

He squints. „What?“

„Well, if you were on a date…“

„Oh, not a date!“ He chuckles. „No, no. It was with Sister Imperator.“

„Oh.“ Your cheeks heat up and you avert your gaze. „I just thought… a few weeks ago, you and that Sister…“

„Ah, amore, it was a one time thing. There is no romantic interest.“

„Great! I mean, good to… good to know.“ You hastily start flipping through the pages of the book to hide your embarrassment. „So do you need more quotes?“

„Yes, it is good to have a selection. You are okay, yes?“

„I’m alright,“ you say, acting very busy with the book. „I’ll help you.“

You start reading the old latin words in earnest now, scanning them for some more fitting aphorisms. Most of them are overused, some are far too cheesy. It is surprising how humanity has always felt similar about love, about heartache, about desire.

„What about this one?“ you say. „Adeo ne hominem immutare ex amor, ut non cognoscas eundem esse.“

Copia’s eyes are wide when you look at him, the meaning of the words leaving his tongue in a whisper. „Is it possible that a man can be so changed by love, that you could not recognize him to be the same?“

V.

Humming contently, you meander through a crowd of bubbly initiates towards the wing that houses the higher-ranking clergy members, a stack of papers pressed tightly to your chest. The abbey is so much more crowded now than it used to be, but here, everything is eerily quiet. Despite your status as Sister you’ve been here so many times, you could find your way blindfolded.

Opening the heavy wooden door to Copia’s chambers, you’re met with the sight of a ghoul carrying a bunch of clothes bags. As he steps away, the Papa sees you and his eyes light up. „Oh, amore, you’re right on time!“

„What are you doing?“ you ask, placing the papers you need signed on his coffee table. 

„Outfit check!“ he exclaims happily. „Trying on my new stage outfit or… at least one of many.“

„Oh.“

The ghoul leaves, closing the door without the sound fully registering in your mind. You stand there, staring at your Papa like he’s the Unholy Master himself.

He’s wearing black, rat-eaten jeans that are so skinny they basically leave nothing to the imagination. The intricate rips and details on his thighs draw your eyes up his legs and you notice the jeans are not fastened with a simple zipper but with lacings. You’re vaguely aware that your eyes linger on his crotch longer than is appropriate but you can’t help it. Even so, there is just so much to take in. His boots are soft Italian leather, matching his gloves. With a black frilly shirt and an elaborately embellished leather jerkin on top, he doesn’t just look like your Papa but an infernal apparition, ready to conquer the world and spread Lucifer’s gospel.

„What do you say, eh? It is good?“ He looks at you with big puppy eyes that stand in stark contrast to the skull-like Papal paint, awaiting your judgement. Only that you haven’t found your voice back yet. „… Amore? Are you okay?“

You snap out of your trance and nod. „Yes. Yes, very good. You look…“ Breathtaking? Like sin itself? „Uhm, the outfit, it looks… looks great. Really. Unholy in the best kind of way. Like you’re a Dark Gothic Lord.“

He preens, eyeing himself in the mirror in front of him with a smirk. „Yes, I think so too.“

What are you supposed to do now? Are you losing your mind?

„I like the big shirt sleeves underneath. And the… the copper ornaments on the jerkin. Very regal. The perfect outfit for a Papa,“ you ramble on. „They will lose their minds over it when you’re on stage, you’re so very handsome.“

„Oh, you’re just flattering me! Saying what I want to hear!“ He waves you off as he laughs, a high, unrestrained chuckle. „Now, what do you really say? You, not the others.“

You have no idea if he’s seeing through your confusion, you don’t even know what’s happening yourself. Something feels off, your whole body is acting up.

„I think you look incredible,“ you say truthfully. „It’s the best outfit yet. I don’t think I’ve ever found you so… magnetic.“

His smirk widens. „Magnetic, eh?“ 

This shift in expression does something very unusual to you. It almost feels… flirty.

You swallow the lump in your throat and smack his shoulder. „Don’t let it go to your head, Papa.“

„Oh, I absolutely will. You never say things like that, it is special. I will have to write it in my diary tonight.“

Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously hot. „What’s my opinion worth anyway? I’m just a Sister.“

„You’re not just a Sister,“ he says, frowning. „You are my confidante, you know me like no one else, and you have good taste, too.“

„I don’t think it matters in the great scheme,“ you argue, looking away in embarrassment. „What matters is that you’re going to win so many people for our cause wearing this.“

Papa scoffs. „It matters to me. You’re my friend.“

You ease up, realising there is no need to be defensive about your admission. So what if he knows that you think he looks extremely attractive in his new attire? It’s not a secret. Everyone will tell him the same.

„Well, I think you made a superb choice,“ you eventually say. „I like it. No, I love it.“

His smiles becomes sweet, a little flustered. „Thank you, thank you. Now give me a hug so I know you mean it.“

His arms open widely in the same theatrical gesture as always. And it’s charming, really, it would be charming now if you didn’t suddenly have the hots for him. Nevertheless, you hug him back because any hesitation would make him sad.

When his arms close around you, you notice a nervous feeling in your belly. A feeling that is suspiciously close to the feeling you last had when you were freshly in love. And not just that but the insides of your thighs come to life as your core starts throbbing for attention, your skin tingling underneath the fabric of your clothes.

Fuck, do you have a crush on him?

No, that is impossible. He’s your best friend. He’s been your best friend for so long now. 

Sure, from time to time you do think about him before you sleep and when he touches you, there are undeniable sparks. And yes, maybe you felt a tinge of jealousy after his hookup with the other Sister. And yeah, you do miss him when he’s touring and you can only see him on screens. You did cry when he became Papa, the pride and love you feel for him overwhelming you at the sight of him in his chasuble, mitre and the full make-up. But it has always been a friendly sort of love, hasn’t it? 

Now, in his arms, you feel like it hasn’t been. 

Your heart beats so fast you’re scared he can feel it knocking on his chest, asking for entrance. Thinking back, it has always beaten faster when you touched him, when he hugged you, when he called you amore in this sticky sweet tone that always lingers in your ears.

„You know, I think your hugs are always my favourites,“ he mumbles, his voice low in your ear. „I could do this for hours.“

You fight a nervous chuckle as he pulls you even closer. He can’t know, can he? 

„Me too, you… you feel really good,“ you say instead, trying to ignore what the scent of his cologne does to your insides. Or how his hands moving over your back make you weak in the knees. It’s a lot of body contact, these hugs, the closest you ever really get. Only that all of a sudden it’s not enough anymore.

You realise you were oblivious to your own attraction. The familiarity of your friendship seems to have overshadowed the underlying feelings and now they are trying to break free. Suddenly you feel like you want to rip the damn outfit off. Only he’s not letting go, keeping you closer than ever, and you surely won’t be the first to break away.

„Co– eh, I mean Papa,“ you try. Your nerves are blank.

„You can call me Copia when we’re alone, I told you before,“ he says. „It slips out all the time anyway.“

„I know, but I want to keep minimum respectability.“

He scoffs, one hand moving further up and into your hair. „I know you don’t have any of that, it’s okay. You’re the only one who is completely honest with me.“

Are you? You’re beginning to think you haven’t even been honest with yourself. You remember the burning need you felt a few nights ago, how you were taking care of yourself under the shower and suddenly, without warning, it wasn’t your hand between your legs but his. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t correct your thoughts and imagined him standing behind you, your back pressed to his chest, his hands all over your body. You came in record time, his name clumsily tumbling from your lips that are yet unused to moaning it.

You swallow hard. „What if… what if I’m not?“

Copia lets you go and you regret ever saying anything. His eyes are narrowed and he looks positively terrifying with his make-up. „You hate the outfit?“ he asks. „It’s okay, just say it.“

„No!“ You lift your hands in a gesture of innocence. „No, that’s not what I mean.“

Copia sighs in relief. „Alright, what then? You know you can tell me whatever it is, yes?“

„Not this.“ You shake your head vehemently. „No, it would… make things bad. I’m sorry. Actually, I should probably go.“

You try to walk past him but he grabs your wrist and the touch alone sends sparks through your whole body. You whimper and when you turn back to him he looks genuinely concerned. 

His hand moves into yours, so familiar and yet all new. „Amore, why do you not trust me? Have we not been the best of friends forever now?“ 

You stare at your joined hands, admiring how soft the leather of his gloves feels as his thumb moves over your skin. You concede, the effort of running pointless when you see him later for a meeting anyway. There is no escaping this now. The feelings are there, they won’t go away.

„You are my best friend,“ you say. „Which is exactly why I cannot tell you, Copia.“

„Okay, then I will guess,“ he says, letting go of your hand to raise three fingers. „I know you so well, I get it right in three tries.“

He does know you well, he is not as awkward around you as he is with others, pays closer attention to you. But he cannot possible think of that when not even you yourself knew it until five minutes ago.

Only three tries.

You find yourself nodding. 

„Yes?“

„Yes. But if you don’t get it right then I won’t have to say it. Ever.“

He shrugs, feigning confidence. „Chiaro.“

„Then shoot.“

For a long moment he stares at you, eyes narrow, like he could read your mind if he only tried hard enough. It sure enough feels like he does, his white eye especially piercing. „You have a secret. I say it is… oh. No, you are not… you don’t have a secret illness, do you?“

„No,“ you say. „No, I would tell you if I had.“

„Phew.“ He licks his lips, then starts stroking his chin. „What can it be? You are not sick, you don’t hate my outfit… You… you plan a surprise for someone! You can’t tell me because you know I would give it away. I admit it hurts me, but you are right, I am bad at secrets.“ 

Again, you shake your head. „No, no surprises.“

That seems to confuse him but he’s still eager to guess. Meanwhile your palms are so sweaty you have to wipe them clean on your habit. The room feels stuffy all of a sudden, hot and suffocating.

„Hmmm. What could it be?“ Copia singsongs, completely unaware, tapping a finger against his temple as he paces. For a moment, you assume he can’t come up with anything else, that you’re finally off the hook, but then his whole face lights up and he swivels around. „You are in love!“

Any attempt to remain indifferent flies out the window. The shock sits so deep you cannot control your distorted expression.

„Oh, it is that!“ he says, reading your reaction perfectly, but he’s not as happy as he should be. Instead he huffs out a breath. „So, you… you are in love?“

„I… um… I guess…“

„You said you would tell me if there was someone!“

„I know… ugh, it’s… it’s kind of unexpected… I…“

„But who? Chi potrebbe essere?“ he interrupts before you can embarrass yourself. „There has not been anyone new here lately. It cannot be Terzo, you always complain about him. One of my ghouls? No, no, I have not seen you look at them in that way. Could it be a new Sibling?“

„Copia…“ You take his hand, stopping him. „Don’t make me say it.“

„Why not? I can help y–“ He suddenly stops when he sees your pained expression. „I… Is it… No, it cannot be…“ His gaze is penetrating, his hand squeezing around yours, and you cannot tell if it is pity in his eyes or something else. „Amore…“

„Forget about it,“ you say, embarrassment flooding through you. „Doesn’t matter. I knew it would be a long shot. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just… just promise not to stop being friends with me.“

„Amore, why would I stop being friends with you?“

You’re very close to crying. „I don’t know, because it’ll be weird for you.“

„Why would it be weird? Sure, the ghouls will tease me relentlessly. But there is no rule against it. If anything, it is encouraged to follow your desires. No one will say anything and if they do, I don’t care. I am Papa, I can do what I want.“

You furrow your brow, a tear rolling down your cheek. „I don’t…“

„Why are you crying?“ he asks, rushing to grab your face and wipe the tears away. „It is good, yes? Now it is out. We don’t have to pretend anymore.“

„Pretend?“

„You know how hard it was to hide that I’ve been in love with you for so long?“ He furrows his brow as your jaw drops. „Actually, maybe I should have started with that.“

You smack him again. „Yes, you should have!“

„I’m sorry, I just… I thought I was so obvious. Everyone knew,“ he says. „I thought you just do not feel like that.“

„What do you mean, everyone knew?“

„I…“ He stops. „Well, I have… I told you I am bad at secrets. The ghouls ask me almost every day if we’re finally together. And I was not subtle about it, I wrote a whole sermon about how much it hurts to be in love with you.“

Your eyes widen in realisation. „Love is… love is sweet and bitter.“

„Yes,“ he deadpans. „Did you think I just made that up?“

„How did I not know?“ You grab the front of his jerkin. „How could I be so blind?“

He seems startled by the sudden proximity, gulping visibly. „Cara…“ he trails off, eyes shooting to your mouth. „I don’t… I don’t know.“

It is clear as day that he wants you. That he wanted you all this time. And this is not the first time he looked at you like that. You feel like an idiot.

But at least you can make up for it now.

„We have an hour before the meeting with Sister Imperator,“ you say, moving your hands up to his neck to play with his collar. „I love the outfit, but I really want to see how fast we can take it off.“

Copia’s mouth opens and closes again, no words coming out. You cradle his cheek and he leans into the touch, whimpering softly.

„I need you to tell me what you want,“ you whisper. „If you don’t want this–“

He snaps out of his trance. „I do. Lucifer, I want you so bad. I just… I wasn’t prepared for… I don’t really…“

„Shhh.“ You tilt his chin up so he’s forced to look into your eyes. „It’s okay, we only do what we’re feeling like. But I really really want to touch you.“

Copia nods eagerly and you slowly open the knot on his neck. When your thumb moves to his windpipe, you feel him swallow. He’s visibly nervous, anticipating your every move. It’s tempting to take your time, but you’re on a tight schedule.

„You can touch me, too, you know?“

He chuckles nervously. „Oh, amore… where do I even start?“

Smiling you take his hand and bring it to your cheek. His other hand naturally finds your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes are still on your mouth and he licks his lips like they’re dry.

„Can I kiss you?“ he finally asks.

Your voice comes out in a sultry whisper. „Yes, please.“

Copia leans in and you close your eyes. His lips hover over yours for a second, your noses touching but nothing else. You already feel your insides fluttering in anticipation but it’s nothing compared to the feeling when his lips finally touch yours. He’s tentative, gentle, but slowly gains confidence. You quickly find a rhythm that makes you melt into him, body resting against his. Copia’s hand moves into your hair, pulling your head back lightly to change the angle. He’s more in charge now, moving his lips over yours like he’s never done anything else in his life. You’re a puddle, letting out a moan that comes from somewhere deep within.

Copia falters at the sound, starts grinning into the kiss before he breaks away. „Ah, shit. I need… need a moment.“ He takes a deep breath that he lets out in a laugh, more of a high-pitched giggle really. „It is so hard to believe this is real and not one of my dreams. Tell me I am not dreaming, amore.“ 

The corners of your mouth move to mirror his expression. „No, it’s very much real.“

He huffs out another deep breath, like he’s preparing to do a sprint, then grabs your cheeks and starts pressing kisses all over your face. He’s nuzzling your nose, fingers pressing into your cheeks to make you pout, then he continues to kiss every piece of skin he can reach. „It’s real,“ he says in between. „You’re real. You like me back. Shit shit shit.“

You laugh and he continues, making you squirm and writhe in his arms whenever he reaches an especially tender spot, coaxing all kinds of squeals and giggles out of you.

„Oh those sounds. Those fucking sounds.“ He kisses you on your lips once more, lingers before pulling away. „I love you, amore. You make me so happy.“ 

„I love you, too,“ you say, completely out of breath, your kiss-swollen lips burning. „So much.“

Copia grins again and you think your heart must have doubled in size. When he kisses you again, it’s booming in your chest like it’s attached to a bass speaker. His hands move down to your hips very slowly, tracing every curve before he pulls them flush against his. Feeling his semi-hard cock pressing against you, you decide it’s time for more. The next time he pulls away you trap his plump bottom lip between your teeth, then suck it into your mouth. 

He moans into you, using the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He’s very careful, his tongue licking at your bottom lip before he carefully rubs it against yours. You realise he tastes vaguely sweet and you tickle his tongue back, smiling into the kiss.

You only break away when you feel your lungs burning, a thin thread of spit connecting your mouths. Copia is just as breathless but his hands dig into your butt with surprising force, keeping your hips pressed to his so you don’t pull away any further. Maybe he feels a similar throbbing, the need for friction so deep it’s just not enough.

„I really do love the outfit,“ you say, running your hand over the leather jerkin as you slowly recover. „So… mesmerising. Does it make you feel confident?“

„Yes. Yes. But…“ He takes a shuddering breath, whimpers. „Amore, the pants are really tight.“

You smirk, bite down a chuckle. „Hm, poor baby, think we need to give you some more room, huh?“

Again, he whimpers in reply. His cock is straining against the unforgiving denim, trapped behind the lacings. It’s endearing how worked up he is from making out, but you hate to see him suffer. So you let your fingers dance down his torso all the way to the bulge in his pants. When you touch it, he groans like a wounded animal. 

„Ahhh.“ The sound turns into a high-pitched whimper. „Amore, please. It hurts.“

You want to help him, really, but the lacings are a menace. You fiddle with them until they finally loosen. Copia lets out a sigh of relief that quickly turns into a growl when you pull his cock out of his pants

„Better?“ you ask, giving him a gentle stroke.

His hands dig into your behind. „Mhm.“

„What do you want to do?“ you ask. „Do you want me to help you?“

„No, I think I want…“ He takes a deep breath. „I need to see you, amore. Please, can we take this off?“

You nod and he fiddles with your habit. It’s optional, apart from certain occasions. Most of the time, you’re not wearing the head piece and only pull the black robe over your head quickly before heading out. So it’s easy enough to just rip it off, though you have to do it because he’s clearly too distracted by your hand on his dick to make you let go.

Once it’s off, he’s distracted by something else though.

„You’re so beautiful, amore,“ he whispers, hands busy exploring the curves of your body. „I thought you would be but… merda.“

„Hey, this was supposed to be about undressing you,“ you say.

„Right,“ he says. „Sorry, got carried away.“

He still is because he’s no help at all when you try to open the jerkin. You eventually manage on your own, carefully lifting it off his shoulders while Copia is still occupied with admiring your lacy bra. You know you need to be careful with his outfit and it’s testing your restraint.

„Please, I need cooperation,“ you mumble.

„Yes, yes.“ He helps you, finally, placing the jerkin and his shirt over a nearby chair, the jeans following suit.

„The gloves…“

„I need to to take them off this time, amore. It’s not the same if I don’t feel you.“

You relent and it doesn’t really matter because you’re much more focused on his now almost naked body, the tip of his erection peeking out of his black briefs. It’s a sight to behold, your Papa with his slender figure, the little pouch on his belly, soft lovehandles and strong thighs from performing.

„Is it okay?“ he asks, like he’s not the most beautiful man you have ever laid eyes on.

„You’re…“ You struggle to find the right word. „Copia, you’re all I could ever want.“

He smiles with more confidence now, hands reaching out to you until they finally close around your waist again. You’re still in your underwear so when his now bare fingers touch your skin it sends shivers all over your body. He was right, it’s better without the gloves – at least this time.

„What do you want to do now?“ You run your hands over his chest, unsure where to touch first. He’s soft and warm, dark grey hairs running down his chest, stopping at his navel, then continuing on in the most beautiful happy trail you’ve ever seen.

„I want you on my bed, right now,“ he says. „And then we’ll see what we feel like. But before that I think this needs to go, amore. I want to see all of you.“

He tries to open your bra but it won’t work immediately. You attempt to help him but he swats your hands away with a frown, tutting softly.

„I can do it,“ he insists and he does, after two more failed attempts. You indulge him, it’s fiddly and he’s still trembling in anticipation when he carefully slides the straps off your shoulders. The bra tumbles to the floor and you feel a gush of cool air against your already hard nipples.

„Can I…“

„Copia you can touch me wherever you want,“ you assure him, taking his hands to place them on your breasts. He palms them gently and you fight a chuckle. „However hard you want, too.“

He smiles. „It still feels forbidden for me. I used to chide myself for even thinking about doing this.“

It’s hard not to fall in love with him even more. He must have been imagining this even more times than you did and the thought makes your heart jump. He loses some of his shyness and starts properly groping you, leaning back in to reach your lips. You move your hand back down to stroke him, feeling him so hard and ready for you. He moans into the kiss, breaking away immediately.

„Hm, no,“ he says, taking your hand away. „No, you can’t do that.“

„Why?“

„It’s too good. I won’t last.“

„So what?“

Copia chuckles. „So what? Come on, move your pretty ass to the bed. I have plans.“

You do as he says, even though it feels almost wrong to mess up the tidy black bedding – bedding that you picked when he got a new bed that also you picked. It makes you smile now, thinking about how he practically made you choose his furniture to make sure you’d feel comfortable here.

When you settle into his sheets, Copia stops and takes you in. „You know, I often imagined you like this. And it’s so much better than in my head.“

You smile and he slowly crawls over you, carefully letting his body weight rest on top of you. If you thought your usual hugs were good, this is even better. He’s a little sticky with drying sweat, his skin clinging to yours, and it feels amazing. His mouth captures yours in a short kiss but he’s quickly diverting his attention to your jaw, sucking and nibbling on your skin before he moves down to your neck.

„Let me mark you, amore, please,“ he whispers.

You bury your hand in his hair and give him an encouraging hum. His lips close around the skin just below your ear and he sucks violently. For a second you think you could come just from this, the shocks of pleasure so heavy they make your hips buck. Copia remains undisturbed, licking over the abused skin after a while. He lifts his head and gives a satisfied grunt.

„More,“ you say and his lust-filled eyes meet yours. „All over me.“

Eventually he nods and goes to work. You’ve lost track of time but you imagine there’s still room for this and even if there isn’t, you’re way beyond caring now.

Copia repeats his process a few times all over your body, starting with your clavicle, then the top of your cleavage, taking even more time to suck your nipples into his mouth and leave bruises all over your breasts. You fight the urge to squirm but it’s impossible, especially once he reaches your abdomen and his lips tickle the sensitive skin just above the hem of your panties.

„Off with those,“ he mumbles and this time he doesn’t struggle, removes them in one swift motion and pushes your legs apart despite your protests. „What, now you’re getting shy?“

You are. It’s one thing having him see your breasts but it’s a whole different thing to have him there. Your brain is still processing how this is happening when he continues kissing your skin, focusing on the soft insides of your thighs now.

He chuckles at some point but before you can ask what’s funny he sucks so violently that your hips jerk upward. That only makes him chuckle harder before he blows onto the bruise, pressing one last gentle kiss to it.

„You get impatient, I like that,“ he says. „You’re always so composed, so calm. Who knew all I had to do was put on some nice clothes and you’d be weak for me?“

„I wish I had known, too, I would have come prepared.“

„How so?“ He kisses your other thigh, getting comfortable between your legs. 

„Would’ve worn nicer panties.“

Copia laughs. „No, you would have ruined them. Did you not see how wet they were?“

You didn’t but you felt it. Him saying it makes your cheeks heat up nonetheless and you cover your face with your arm. „Stop.“

„Why?“

„You’re not supposed to be so perfect,“ you whine. „You’re supposed to be awkward and shy.“

Copia chuckles. „I was but then you turned into a puddle just because I sucked on your neck. Gives me great confidence. And besides… it’s you.“

„Me?“

„No one makes me so comfortable,“ he says, resting his cheek against your thigh. „You make it easy to love you.“

Before you can comment on it, his hand closes around your thigh and throws it over his shoulder.  His breath tickles your clit as he presses a kiss just above it. „Let me taste you, amore.“

„You won’t let me pleasure you but now I should let you?“

„Yes, I just… I don’t want to rush it. I’ve been dreaming about this so, so many times. I want…“ He pauses. „I want to make sure it’s good for you. I don’t care about me.“

„But I do.“

„I know, cara mia. But after this, I want you to come back here, every night, and I need to make sure you do.“

Like he thinks you won’t love him anymore if he comes too early? You try to make sense of it but he’s kissing your mound again which makes thinking very hard. 

„Please,“ he says softly, kissing again and again. „I need to.“

It’s not much of a choice. Of course you let him. „But don’t ruin your make-up.“

„Amore, your face has black mouth prints all over it. I’m not the only one who needs to clean up later.“

You open your mouth and he grins up at you, all while your heart swells in your chest. Then his mouth moves downward to finally kiss the spot you really need him at. You can’t help the small jerk of your hips. He ignores it, instead he parts your labia with his tongue and gives you a broad lick. It has your eyes rolling back, fingers digging into the sheets.

„So good,“ he mumbles, accompanied by a low hum. „Perfetto.“

You can’t stay sane like this, it’s too much. He does it a few more times but all you can do is bury your hand in his hair and hold on for dear life. His tongue dips into your entrance but he quickly replaces it with his thumb so he can go back to your clit. You’re getting close very fast but you really don’t want it to happen like this. You want him closer, you don’t want to come alone and you certainly don’t want him to come from humping the mattress.

„Copia, love, please,“ you whine.

He looks up. „Hm?“

„I need you inside of me.“

You can see the reluctance in his eyes but the will to please you is bigger and so he stops and crawls back up to you. He’s a total mess and you definitely have to fix his make-up before leaving, but you don’t have it in you to worry now. 

„Please,“ you say again. „I want you to come with me.“

There’s liquid desire in his eyes, swirling when he takes in your words. „Can I just…“

„Yea,“ you say. „Don’t worry about it. Unless you and that sister…“

„No,“ he interrupts. „Sathanas, no.“

„Okay.“

„Are you sure?“

„Yes.“

He shuffles off his briefs and runs his tip through your folds to get it nice and slick. And it is so slick that he easily starts sliding into you. Copia stops immediately, eyes meeting yours as he slowly pushes in deeper, making sure you’re okay. The stretch is incredible, slow and steady.

And then he bottoms out.

„Oh, amore,“ he whispers just as you whisper his name. The groan that follows gives you goosebumps. He has you clinging to his biceps, nails digging into his pale skin, and he hasn’t even moved yet. You’re flooded with emotions. Love, desire, pleasure. It’s enough to take your breath away.

„Are you well?“ he asks, his hand finding your cheek.

You can only nod, rolling your hips into him to indicate that you’re ready. Copia starts moving ever so slowly, gentle thrusts that hit you just right. He finds a rhythm that suits you both, your combined moans and whimpers filling your ears, increasing ever so slowly.

You don’t know where to hold onto once he gets really fast, hand searching for his. „Love.“

He sees you, moving the hand from your cheek to grab yours, pushing it into the mattress right next to your head.

„I won’t last,“ he grunts, followed by a string of Italian curses. „T-tell me if you’re close, amore.“

„Just a little more.“

That’s enough for him to grab your hips and change the angle. It’s awkward with one hand but he doesn’t have to hold you for long. Hitting you just right every time, your walls clench impossible tight around him and you come with your back arching all on its own, a barely suppressed scream leaving your lips. Copia sets you back down and rides it out, messy, unrhythmic thrusts, before he completely falters and comes with a growl. The pleasure in your veins numbs everything else but you feel his cock throbbing inside of you, nonetheless, even as he collapses. Your legs are still shaking as they wrap around him, keeping him close. 

„Oh, fuck,“ you whisper, clinging to the last bits of consciousness. You feel all tingly inside, almost like fainting.

Copia hums in agreement, shifting onto his side without slipping out. You wrap your arms around him, pressing a suffocating kiss to his lips. He keeps you pressed to his body, chest to chest, even as he softens inside of you.

„I don’t know why you were worried I wouldn’t come into this bed again,“ you joke.

A laugh rumbles in his chest and he presses a tired kiss to your forehead. You give yourself ten more minutes before you make sure you both get clean and to the meeting. Right now, you settle into the blissful feeling in your body, into the comfort of his arms.

„I should get new outfits more often if they lead to this,“ he says. „And you’ve only seen the first one.“

You can imagine the devilish grin on his face, even with your eyes closed. „Perhaps you’d like to model the other ones for me later?“

He kisses your shoulder, lips lingering on your skin. „I would like that very much.“

If you read this far I applaud you, I know it's really long. Thanks for sticking around and feel free to chat with me at any time. I would love to know which parts of the fic spoke to you in particular ♥️

[honey-tongued-devil]

Sinners' tango

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It wasn't just meant to be a small collection of Papa x Sister of Sin!Reader, but also to have a little interpretation key. So, as usual, I invite you to comment/like to show your support!

I really like the idea that the Ministry of Ghosts is a matriarchal pyramid, where even though Papa seems like the most important figure, Sister Imperator is the one who holds the reins of everything. Furthermore, I like that this isn't seen as a threat to anyone's masculinity within the clergy.

This series had a bit of this in mind. The woman isn't shown to allow more or less everyone to insert/identify themselves, yet her presence is so strong that even without ever seeing her face, you should be able to perceive her as the dominant figure in the composition. Sometimes she simply doesn't bother to look at those who are looking at the images, as if leaving the dirty work to someone else, other times she plays with her men, who allow themselves to be moved docilely.

There's also a certain sensuality, the idea of intimacy between the sister and the pope, and the various popes looking into the camera is like an awareness of their position. It's a submissive, almost devoted but still proud. Except for Copia, but not because he's not devoted to her, but because he, more than anyone, couldn't take his eyes off her.

[ghulehunknown]

Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

[tasty-ribz]

[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]

[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[zombiequeenblog]

The Promise

I wrote some dumb Papa Emeritus IV smut lol

There are no Ghovie spoilers here, I hope you enjoy it! Papa x Sister of Sin

Explicit ~ 5,500 words ~ ao3

Summary: Papa Copia catches you sneaking in way past curfew, and gives you a lecture. You respond cheekily.

It must be well past 2 am, maybe 3, I thought, as I tumbled guiltily back into my room. So late! A giggle, most likely fuelled by a gin and tonic or two I wasn’t used to, escaped me as I shed my coat and fled over to the comfort of my bed, feet aching. Sitting on the edge with a graceless bounce I didn’t intend, I flicked on the little lamp beside me and bent down to work my heels off, head still a bit dizzy. 

“Where have you been?” 

My body went stiff as soon as I heard his voice from over in the corner. My long and tangled hair, still smelling faintly of the perfume I had used to combat the mustiness of the local dive bar, had fallen down in my face, and I stayed hidden behind its safety as I made my reply as light and chipper as I could. “Oh Papa! Hmm, I… ahh, I didn’t see you there…” Obviously.

“Where have you been, Sorella?” I heard the slight tap of his shoe as the sole hit the floor, and a creaking noise like he was leaning forward in my austere little armchair. Sitting over there in the dark, like a cranky old cat. 

“I was just… out, Papa…” I had finally fumbled my heels off, and now I sat up to lean back on my hands, rolling my stiff neck back along my shoulders to shake my hair out. “I had a drink down at the bar, watched a band play. It was fun.”

“It’s past curfew.” He sounded displeased. Well, of course he would be! I knew the rules, but in this juniper-flavoured moment I didn’t much care. I had had fun, and I didn’t regret it. Still though…

“I’m sorry, Papa. I lost track of the time.” I let myself flop back on the bed, tired, and I thought I heard him rise up to his feet in the shadowed corner. 

“You cannot lose track of the time, eh, mia Sorella preziosa? This is dangerous. I cannot lose track of you.” He sounded very displeased, indeed. 

I just scoffed at him. Ever since I had come here, I would say we’d been flirting with one another, but isn’t that just what Papa did? What all the Papas do? Papa Copia was charming, intense, and sweet, and utterly devoted to enjoying the passions of the flesh, as the living embodiment of lust here on earth. He slept with many, and many more wanted to sleep with him. Hell, I wanted to sleep with him; we just hadn’t really come to find ourselves in that situation just yet. We hadn’t even kissed, and I resented him acting like he was some kind of handler of me. 

“I cannot allow you to behave in this way,” he continued with severity, coming closer, “running all around in that town, which you should know is crawling with Christians who don’t give one shit about you on account of that grucifix you have pinned there…” Papa gestured to the little symbol of our dark faith I had dutifully displayed on my shirt collar. “Without a single care for your safety, and sneaking back in here like some kind of little rat!”

I turned my head so I didn’t have to look at him, and I found that the long night of careless freedom had loosened my tongue, apparently terribly. “Well, hell… you’re not my dad!” I muttered up into the ceiling with a glib shrug of annoyance at his scolding. 

A shocked pause within the room, and then his sharp steps were coming right on over to me. “I. Am. Your. Papa,” his voice seethed down, “And I am responsible for you.”

I darted my eyes over to see his handsome face, still painted up, with his odd eyes blazing and his greying hair all mussed over his forehead in the most charming way. Had he really been sitting in here all night, waiting… worrying about me? As if to ruin it on purpose, he straightened up and ran his previously clenching hand back along his hair, smoothing everything down with a tense sigh. I thought he looked stunningly attractive, and it gave me a certain kind of little thrill to continue irritating him.

“What are you gonna do, spank me, Papa?” I threw out, carelessly turning over onto my front to let my body sink down further into the bed.

Another pause, and I felt the mattress shift when he sat down beside me. 

“Do you… Do you want me to spank you?” He sounded serious.

I felt myself blush immediately, grateful that he couldn’t see. “No!” I almost shouted, kicking my leg up a bit.

He didn’t say anything.

“Not… not right now, Papa…” Well, now I had gone and made everything awkward… Satan damn it! “Maybe later,” I added, muffled into the comforter. I wriggled my butt a little in a fiddling attempt to be coy, and I thought perhaps I heard him make the slightest sound of a chuckle. I couldn’t be sure. 

“Is there anything at all I may do for you, mia cara?” 

“You… you could help me out of these clothes, Papa,” I confessed to him, “Please.”

“With pleasure,” he said, his voice astoundingly kind now, and I felt the gentlest touch of his glove on the back of my thigh. He gave me a little squeeze there, and then his fingertips ran up to catch on the hem of my mini skirt. I felt him tug at it a little, and I mumbled something about the zipper. 

“Ahh yes, of course,” he said, and his fingers traveled up to the small of my back, finding the little clasp there to unhook it, and sliding the zipper down with care. I was not unaware of the way he was grazing the full curve of my ass as he did this, unnecessarily. He brought his gloves to either side of my waist and paused for a moment, his firm hands feeling warm on me through the leather, and then he started to roll my skirt down, encouraging me to lift my hips a bit, in a soft tone.

Halfway down my ass I remembered that I was wearing perhaps my skimpiest thong. The cool air of the room hit my skin and I heard Papa hum appreciatively, making me blush anew. As he slid my skirt off completely, all the way down my bare legs like he relished the task, he spoke low. 

“Were you meeting someone special down in town? Bringing some favoured errant soul into the fold?”

“No, Papa,” I answered honestly, “I just wanted to go out and relax in a crowd, you know? Look a bit pretty and get lost in some music…” I tried to turn over subtly but his hand was now firm on my lower back. “Avoiding panty lines, you know?” I explained further, with a soft laugh, turning my head only.

Papa laughed too. “I do not often have to contend with panty lines, my dear Sorella,” he replied, and I remembered his reported distaste for wearing knickers himself. I had been thinking often lately about what he had there in his pants, and I found myself rubbing my thighs together at the warmth forming now in my poor little empty cunt. As if to prove his point, he skimmed a gloved finger along the scant fabric of my thong to make me shiver.

“May I kiss you?” he suddenly said.

“Yes, Papa,” I chirped, but before I could turn around I registered him moving down and I felt his warm lips pressing a firm kiss against the cheek of my ass. 

“A kiss now, a spank later, eh?” he remarked, and I twisted my head to look back and see a black kiss mark left there on my exposed skin. He patted my butt affectionately, then stopped as if he’d forgotten. “Oh! My apologies, Sorella…”

I couldn’t help but grin at his silliness, and he finally let me roll over. 

“Papa…” I groaned, moving to sit up and unbutton my shirt. 

“No, no,” he insisted, taking my hands away, “Lay back, Sorella mia, and let Papa finish, si?”

“Si,” I agreed, laying back like a doll, and watching him get back to work through my torpid eyes. I saw him grin now, sweet and sly. 

My top was obviously next, and I marvelled at the way his gloves seemed to have no trouble with the tiny buttons, working nimbly from my waist right up to my cleavage. I wanted to feel that supple leather on more parts of me, and when he looked down into my face with intention, pausing before he opened up my shirt, I nodded up at him. 

“Sei squisito,” he breathed, slowly revealing more of me to his heavy gaze. 

“What are you saying?” I asked him softly. I had learned much Italian in my time here, but not enough. 

“I am telling you,” he said, looking up at my face now and brushing my hair back with the lightest touch of his glove, his fingertip running down to my chin to tilt me up to him slightly, “that you are exquisite, tesoro mio.” He tilted his own head as he looked down at me, his strange eyes darkening with devotion, and perhaps, also, with need. 

“May I have another kiss?” I asked him.

“On your ass?”

“No, Papa!” I could have hit him, he was so being so facetious. A complete ass, himself.

I endured the roguish twinkle in his eye for a moment, and then I pointed at my mouth. “Here.” I watched his hungry eyes hone in on my softly parted lips, and I knew he wanted me too. “I want you to kiss me here.”

Without another word he brought his mouth right down on mine. His lips, soft but insistent, giving me a taste of his papal paints when our kiss quickly deepened. So focused was I upon those lips, and his tongue, that I almost didn’t notice his gloves holding me up to him, tearing my opened shirt down along my shoulders. 

“More,” he muttered, breaking away only for a moment, “give me more… Sorella…”

Desperately, I shrugged off my top as he helped me, lurching forward to continue kissing him, tasting this irresistible man as if I were parched. Too soon he dragged his lips along my cheek, smearing himself all down my neck to come to my chest where he could use his tongue further, and his teeth, giving me little licks and nips along the top of my breasts as he let loose his hunger. 

By this time I was gripping the lapels of his suit jacket, and my fingers slid inside, trying to find a closer purchase along his shoulders, noticing his skin was dampening with sweat underneath the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Give me more,” I whined, and he obliged eagerly, shedding the shiny irksome thing and coming forward again to push me right down beneath him. His hand came up to knead my breast, pulling my bra down as he kissed my pouty lips again and again, his leathered thumb flicking and circling my nipple. When I couldn’t hold back my gasps of pleasure into his mouth, he abandoned mine, coming down again to taste my breasts each in turn, pulling my sensitive peaks in between his smudged lips, and swirling his wet tongue to drive me mad with desire.

Through my struggle not to lose my head, I had been fumbling about blindly with the buttons of his dress shirt, and I finally got it open enough to slide my hand down along his chest, to feel the glorious swirls of hair there. I ran my fingers along his beautifully greying head too. 

“Papa,” I begged, “I want to see you… please…”

“Can you be a good girl for me?” He was taking off my bra, rather easily.

“Yes.”

“Follow the rules?”

Rolling my eyes in frustration and pleasure both, I grabbed his cravat and pulled him back up to kiss me once more. With him distracted so with my lips, I thought I’d find out if he really was so easy to access inside his pants, and so I ran my hand down his solid body to find his distractingly large bulge straining within its confines. Papa groaned against my cheek as I let out a gasp of anticipation. I couldn’t wait to get his cock out. 

But first, just to tease him, I brought my hand back and around to cup his ass, squeeze him there and pull him against my thrilling cunt before I locked my legs up and around his waist. No panty lines, I thought to myself, and I grinned against his lips for a moment, feeling him rut against me down below.

He was growing impatient too. “I want you, tesoro,” Papa growled, gloved hands groping, fingers dragging down my body, my ass, to hook underneath the scant fabric keeping him from my pussy. His hot mouth came to my ear with a harsh whisper. “I want to fuck you.”

“No,” I said, and he let me go immediately, pushing himself up and off of me and looking straight down into my face, his eyes concerned. He went to speak, breathless and flushed underneath his smudged paint, but I was quicker. 

“Take your shirt off first,” I finished, and he looked so relieved and cross I thought he might bend me over his knee and spank me right there.

“You are a little brat, trottolina…” he threw out at me, sitting up and giving me one flash of the darkest look of desire I thought possible, before furiously undoing his cravat and bending his head to pay careful attention to the buttons of his tailored shirt, opening it up slowly. 

I hummed wickedly, and nodded, though he didn’t see, backing up to recline against the cushions and squeezing my knees together in my excitement. And yet I’m well rewarded, aren’t I? I thought to myself, bringing my fingertip up to rest flippantly between my teeth as I watched my Papa. 

Satan, he was so beautiful. Flustered hair he’d let get longer fell into his lined face, painted so sinister, yet with a learned tenderness about his darkened sockets and the curve of his mouth which he couldn’t quite hide. Every day I could see it; Copia was so full of adoration for his flock, a steady affection he kept quiet underneath a carnality of care. I couldn’t believe how privileged I was, both to be here and to be of any concern to such as him. I wanted him; I revelled in the thought of him wanting me. And I was grateful for our liberated faith, which laid out the way for this. 

His neck and shoulders, so kissable. His chest adorned in fine hair begging to be touched, the textured whisper of a few greys amongst them calling to me. His skin pale, scattered with faint freckles, his stomach soft and comforting and so utterly fallible it belied his exalted status. The trail of hair leading down underneath the waistband of his pants drove me absolutely raving inside with want, and so I asked him for more, bluntly. 

“Your pants too,” I said, finding that my mouth was suddenly dry. Was I nervous? It was just that he was so completely perfect, amplified by the way he lacked any true hubris, and I suddenly felt a little unworthy in my Papa’s presence. What could he possibly see in me, really?

“Of course, Sorella,” he replied measuredly, “Have patience, your Papa has waited for you long enough…” The shirt was quickly shed, and then he rested his gloves upon the fastening of his pants, looking over at me. “Come here and help me, si?”

I crawled to him, but when I got close enough I sat back on my heels to mirror his posture, and I let myself touch his forearms instead, lightly scraping my nails up to hold onto him by his warm shoulders. Copia just watched me, head tilted a bit with a puzzled smile. My fingertips slid over, grazing his clavicle to rest with shyness in the hollow of his throat. “I want you, Papa,” I told him, “I want to be here, with you, forever.”

Arms full of reassurance to match his desire came up and around me, and he held me so very close, his fingers nestling up the back of my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Sorella mia,” he murmured into my hair, “I feared perhaps you wanted to leave this place… leave me…”

I pulled back and silenced his nonsense with a kiss, which he held me in, and I let my hand wander blindly down his body, his soft stomach, following the treasure trail to something harder. I was trying to suavely slip my fingers into his pants, open them up to free his frustrated cock to my attentions.

This proved difficult, even when I brought my other hand down to assist.

“What is wrong with your pants, Papa?” I finally broke away to exclaim. I looked down to observe the securely knotted lacing. “They’re ridiculous!”

Copia laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t want an embarrassing mishap, on account of having nothing on underneath…” 

I laughed with him. “Take them off…” I finally whined.

Papa motioned for me to scooch back on the bed, and expertly began to undo his pants in front of me. The poor man must have felt a great relief at finally freeing his swollen cock, and he did groan a bit, in pleasure, as he took himself in hand for a few lazy strokes. He was big, and I felt insane looking at it. At all of him.

“Fuck me, Papa,” I breathed, laying back.

“No,” he said, and I sat back up in a little shock.

“First,” he said low with a grin, looking pointedly down between my legs, “Take those off. I want to taste you, dolcezza mia.” I wanted to kill him. Copia got up from the bed to peel off his pants completely, and I lay back again, sliding my thong down along my hips and my trembling legs to leave my pussy pleading, as I observed his perfect body and the way he carried himself. “You will not deny me this,” Papa said, coming back on the bed to crawl towards me. I fully agreed. 

But before I could let my knees drop open for him, Papa was doing it, his gloves gripping my thighs and yanking me down a little closer. I could feel his warm breath on my pussy, and I shut my eyes and waited for him to begin.

But nothing happened, and I looked back down at him after a moment. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking, dolcezza…” His face was full of a lustful suspense, gazing upon my cunt and practically licking his paint-smeared lips in anticipation, so close. “You are so beautiful, ragazza mia, do you even know that? I cannot believe I get to enjoy someone so perfect.”

I blushed, but I answered him honestly. “I was just thinking the same thing about you, Papa.”

“Well, let’s get started on enjoying each other then, si?”

“Si— oh, Papa!”

He was attacking me with his mouth, surging forward to lick up along my seam and to jut his chin forward, delving his tongue inside. It felt so nice, warm and forceful, and I would have been much too sensitive for it if I wasn’t so wound up already. My hips were bucking up, but he had slid his hands up underneath my ass and around to hold them, to hold me down for his carnal feast. 

Papa may have been enjoying me, but I could not believe how good his mouth felt on my cunt. A warm tingly pleasure was rising, stoked deep inside by his wet tongue exploring my most intimate areas, and when he started to circle and suck my clit in a kind of rhythm the jolts of delight this afforded me made me gasp out. 

“That’s so good! I…” Coherent thought escaped me. “Oh, Papa… fuck…”

Hums of pleasure rumbled into my pussy as Copia revelled in my wetness, the taste of me. After a bit of his perfect pleasuring, cruelly, he told me so. “Bellissima… Sorella,” he broke away to say, face darkened with lust, “Your pretty little pussy, so fucking sweet, Satanas…” He began to tease me with only the tip of his tongue now, as if he fretted about missing any drop of the sweetness he was coaxing out from my slit. Gradually he applied more blessed pleasure, his tongue igniting ecstasies I didn’t even know I had down there. 

His words were thrilling me, but I wanted him to keep going, don’t stop, please don’t stop, keep going Papa that feels so good so good so fucking good I’m so close I’m… My fingertips reaching down to brush against his gorgeous locks, I almost pulled him closer in my desperation, but Copia grinned up at me quickly and went right back to it, seeming pleased at the way he was keeping me tottering there just beyond all sense. He licked and lathed his tongue against me with a lazy indulgence, holding me at a simmering torture until he went back to my clit at just the right pace, as if he had been taking his time, enjoying what he did to me, and learning what I needed best to be thrown right over the edge. 

When I finally felt that racing thrill begin inside, my thighs tightened against his ears, and I almost kicked out, my heels coming to rest upon his bare back as I twitched and convulsed up against his face. My nails were digging into the skin just underneath his gloves, my hands holding on to his wrists for dear life as I bucked up and moaned aloud, and he didn’t stop, continuing to eat me out ravenously as if he could taste my orgasm, and couldn’t get enough. I felt like I could hardly breathe.

“Fuck, Papa,” I cried when I was able, my eyes on the edge of tearing up. 

“Mmmm…” Copia licked up my twitching cunt and gazed down upon me with pride, his paint ruined. “Oh yes, my sweet Sorella, we’ll do that next…”

“Fuck,” was all I could barely repeat, like an idiot, out of breath and wanting him more than ever. I reached down for him. 

Copia’s body surged up and over me, on all fours, but instead of giving me his cock he gave me his fingers, two I was pretty sure. Gloved fingers, smooth and warm, sliding slow and exploratory into my dripping wet cunt. If I had been moaning before, now I made sounds much more urgent, the feeling all alight around my pussy walls still tingling, incredible. 

“Papa!” I cried out, writhing beneath him.

“Papa needs to make sure you’re nice and ready…” Copia huffed out, circling gently, and stroking deep in my pussy, curling his smooth leathered digits up, “Nice and ready for me, eh?”

“Fuck I am ready,” I pleaded with him, “Please please fuck me, Papa… Please I need it…”

He needed it too; I could see his cock hanging flushed and heavy, precum almost dripping from the darkened tip. I was clenching around his fingers, and he groaned. I could make him feel so good, I knew it, he just had to make me take his cock; I wanted him so badly I could scream.

Only when he judged me sufficiently wound up did he position me the way he wanted, supine underneath him with my knees apart, and he brought the head of his cock to my weeping cunt, sliding up and down my seam slowly just to tease. Copia really was a devil; he had a dark mischief inside him he loved to let out to play sometimes. I could see why his lovers went so crazy over him. 

But Papa’s most veritable calling was to love tenderly. “Come here,” he said, softly, reaching up to stroke the sweaty strands of hair out of my face, and keeping his hand there, cradling me nice and firm. His thumb wandered over to my lips and I could smell the leather; I moved and bit the tip a little, heavy-lidded, stifling the gasps I knew were coming as I could feel him begin to finally push inside me below. 

My eyes widened; I was glad he’d taken the time to warm me up because Lucifer in hell, he was large and oh so hard… I felt like I could barely take it.

“Are you okay?” Copia asked me, his brow sweating off the paint he had remaining. I think he was only halfway inside, and my leg twitched against his waist as he pushed in a little deeper, unable to help himself. 

“Yes, Papa!” I told him in a hushed whisper, the stretch of him divine, “Oh, yes… don’t stop… fuck…”

“La mia dolce, cara, Sorella…” he was murmuring, sliding inside my tightness, his face a lined and messy vision of pure delight. I felt that wonderfully conflicting feeling of need and completeness deep inside, and I saw him look down to watch my pussy take all of him in as I hitched my hips up feebly to meet him.

There was nothing in the world quite like this, to have him inside me. “Do you… Do you like my pussy, Papa?” I managed to gasp out.

“Fuck, yes… dolcezza…” Copia choked out, already starting to pull back, “You’re so tight, am I hurting you? Satanas…” He hissed out his pleasure and I saw his eyes roll back a little before he focused down on my face, his odd eyes searching mine in some concern.

Reaching up to smooth his eye paint into the darling crow’s feet he had there, I met his gaze and marvelled. “No, it feels so good, I… I want you to fuck me, don’t stop, Papa… please…”

Papa didn’t stop, sliding his cock back inside me, aided so by my wetness and making me moan out loud at the incredible pressure. I watched him bite his own lip to stifle himself, paying close attention to my body as he held me, stroke by stroke, like I was the most precious thing. When he saw me press my head back on the mattress, becoming delirious with pleasure, he smiled, becoming more relaxed himself, and gave me a thrust to make me grip onto him harder. 

“Yes Papa! That’s so fucking good…”

Copia hooked his hand underneath my knee and opened my thigh up further, thrusting a little deeper into my pussy, and he settled more atop me, kissing and licking all over my décolletage, before bringing his head up to murmur low and sweet into my ear. 

“I like it when you call me that, fuck! Eh, ahh… Papa,” he told me, “I like it when you call me Papa…”

“You are Papa,” I said, and he snorted into my neck mid-thrust.

“You are delightful, Sorella,” he said, “Bellissima… ugh, fuck… I think I am going to be fucking you a lot, eh?” Copia was pumping his cock into me in the best way, warm and hard and steady. “If you’ll have me?” he continued, leaning down to pant against my cheek as he thrust.

“Yes, Papa, please!” Every drive of his cock hit those parts inside me to make me shiver, and the brief absence of him with each pass made me yearn for it again and again and again. “Ugh, I need you, you fuck me so good!”

He really was. Copia knew what he was doing, and he fucked me ecstatically now in a perfect rhythm of lust, his hips snapping against the backs of my thighs to make the bed shake. I took his cock again and again, scratching my nails along his shoulders and letting his tongue into my mouth when he sought my lips to kiss me sloppily. Our bodies were beginning to work up a sweat, joined so carnally in our mutual pleasure, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” I purred up to him wickedly, “you’re Papa here… I’m here for your pleasure…”

Copia groaned, approaching the throes of that exact pleasure, but he slowed down, seemingly trying to focus again. “That’s true, isn’t it, Sorella?” I saw his lip curl into a mischievous grin. “What is it that all Papas may say, ah?”

“What?” I whisper-gasped, my eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by his cock, the feel of his gloves on me.

“I, ahh… ahh… I brought you into this institution, yes?” Copia gave me one jolting thrust to make me squeak underneath him and then he was fucking me, so fucking good, but his thrusts were becoming more erratic as he seemed to try and focus on his thoughts for a moment, “and I can take you out, so…” Another sweet thrust… He was speaking to me in a mock tone of gruff authority, and I lost it at his silliness even as I felt our mutual pleasure rising.

I laughed out loud, trapped so underneath him, and he joined me in sweet laughter himself, continuing to fuck me as he hung his head down into my shoulder with a grunt. 

“Shut up, Papa,” I giggled through a moan, “Oh, just shut up… and fuck me…” I ran my fingers up through his hair, getting it more and more disheveled with the sweat beginning to run off the back of his neck, between his shoulder blades, down his spine. He smelled so fucking good on top of me, the weight of him addicting, and I never wanted this to end. “I’ll never come home late again, I promise… If you just keep fucking me…”

But I could sense my poor sweet Papa approaching his end, and I wanted him to feel so fucking good, let everything go and achieve the sweetest release possible. 

“Fuck me, Papa, really fuck me… fill me up…”

Copia held me close, thrusting faster and harder for a minute as he groaned into my flushed skin, and then he reared back, his dark gaze piercing into me with pure desire as he began to fuck me hard, holding me down so I couldn’t writhe away from his thrusts, my body jostling, the heat of his body and his lust palpable in the scant air between us.

I opened my legs further for him, taking his cock to the point of pain so he could get his fill of me. “Good girl,” he huffed under his breath, and I could almost come again just from that.

He’d never looked better than this, I thought in awe, chasing his own pleasure and using my poor pussy to do so. Copia drove his cock into my cunt like he just couldn’t help himself near the end, and then he finally came, choking out a shout before he collapsed on top of me, muttering what I guessed was filthy Italian into my hair.  I could feel his thick cock throbbing deep inside as he ground his hips into me, pulsing out his spend to fill me completely up, and I clenched my thighs and my pussy around him in delight, holding him tightly as he trembled in my arms.

I felt him come down from his high, breathing heavy. “Satanas, Sorella… that was…”

“Good?” I giggled.

“So fucking good, you’re going to kill your poor old Papa…”

I only hummed wickedly, but soon I was making louder noises. Copia had pushed himself up, still deep within my cunt, and he was dragging his gloved hand down my body, getting a few gropes in before settling his fingers on my clit. His cum was already leaking out of me, the slickness only aiding in that ecstatic circling sensation to drive me wild.

“That’s it, my good girl,” I heard him purr, “Come for Papa… si…”

I was so close already from our fucking that it didn’t take long; I came hard again with cries of pleasure as he hissed in triumph, sliding his spent cock out of me in satisfaction.

“I mean it, Papa,” I managed to say after, “I am never coming home late again.”

Copia flopped down beside me and gathered me to him, sighing out in his exhaustion. “My dear Sorella…”

My mussed up head on his shoulder, I nestled in close, breathing in his scent and wrapping my free arm around him. He felt so warm, his heartbeat only beginning to slow, and I watched his gorgeous face rest, his smudged eyes closing in bliss. My body was covered in smears of his paint, especially my lower half, mixing now with cooling sweat and the sticky remnants of him still seeping out. 

After a moment, Copia sought my hand upon him with his gloved one, and brought it up to his lips. “You know, amore,” he murmured between soft kisses to my knuckles, “I cannot stop you from doing as you please… but maybe…” Copia turned over on his side to look down into my face, earnestly, still playing with my hand. “Maybe you’ll allow me to accompany you next time? When you stay out much too late?”

“I’d like that, Papa.” Disentangling from his fingers, I reached up to guide his chin down so he could kiss me on my lips again, and he lingered there for a sweet while, only breaking away to say one thing more.

“And then, I promise, dolcezza… I will spank you.”

[sister-juniper]

the Tumblr algorithm be like:

[littlemissemeritus]

im so mad majesty didnt get more votes :(( anyways!! cirice won, so we're now onto prequelle :3

[writingjourney]

I Knew Nothing But Shadows pt. 5 | copia x reader

credits: X , X

Chapter 5: The Last Line of the Picture (here)

Chapter Summary:

Your blossoming feelings for Copia lead to many questions. Meanwhile he's just trying to get through his day. When you finally see each other again, things start to feel a lot easier.

Chapter content: 4.6k words, no major warnings

SIDE NOTE: If you want to be tagged in chapters in the future pls let me know!! :)

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Master List for all my Fics!

So I accidentally deleted my old master list many months ago, and haven't had the time to make a new one. I am sorry about that! Hopefully this new one suffices 🥰 let me know if there's anything I can fix!

I can't really adhere to taking requests, but I promise I'm friendly; hit up my DMs and tell me all your wild headcanons 😈

Color key: Fluff, Smut, Implied Smut, Angst

Updated: August 5th, 2024

Terzo (Papa Emeritus III)

Dream Come True (Implied Smut but it's pretty obscene) Ao3 (I am actively writing the follow up for this, I promise <3)

Morning Friction (Smut) Ao3

Trying To Resist (Lot of Fluff/Implied Smut) Ao3

Intro to Romantic Literature (Professor Terzo) (Fluff/Smut) Ao3

Intro to Romantic Literature: Prologue (Professor Terzo) (Fluff/ Implied Smut) Ao3

Let's Get These Heels Off... (SMUT) Ao3

The Papa You Belong To (Implied Smut) Ao3

Songbird (SMUT) Ao3

Premier Amour (Medieval Knight Terzo) (Smut/a lil Angst) Ao3

Stupid Love (Cardinal Terzo) (Fluff/Smut/

Friends to Lovers) Ao3

Get on Your Hands and Knees Right Now (Catboy Terzo) (Smut) Ao3

Cast Out (Fallen Angel! Terzo) (Fluff/Smut) Ao3

Looking for your Cardinal? (Mentions of Cardinal Copia x Reader) (SMUT) Ao3

My Dirty Little Secret (SMUT) Ao3

My Only Ghost Fanart

Copia (Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus IV)

Call Me Little Sunshine (Could be read as any Papa, but I kinda had Copia in mind) (Dark Themes, Horror, Abusive Relationship/Implied Smut) Ao3

My Muse (Cardinal Copia) (Smut) Ao3

Taking Care (Papa Emeritus IV) (Angst/Fluff/ Smut) Ao3

This is a One Time Thing (Implied Smut) Ao3

Bundle of Joy (Pure Fluff) AoЗ

Now Paint a Pair of Eyes (Papa Emeritus IV) (Fluff/implied Smut at the end) Ao3

If you had Life Eternal (Cardinal Copia) (Fluff/ Touch of Angst) Ao3

HCs about Copia with an Antichrist Lover (Fluff/implied Smut)

Terzo AND Copia

When a Paradise is Lost (Angst/ Fluff/Smut/Friends to Lovers) Ao3

Paradise Found (sequel to above fic) (Angst/Fluff/Smut/Pregnancy) Ao3

[bloodfin]

can you feel me longing for you, forever

Air Ghoul/Earth Ghoul, background Dewdrop/Alpha

Rated: M for mature, 18+ only recommended

Word Count: 3.900k

Summary: Air and Earth petitioned the clergy for a kit and have been denied forty seven times. This time, their wish is granted. Features some abbey life, and a lot of tears.

Warnings: kit adoption; mean guy Alpha; Dewdrop is the inter-era bridge; pack feels; angsty/sad with a happy ending; fade to black ending

Author’s Note: from @anotherbananasong storyline about Earth and Air wanting to adopt a kit and being denied by the ministry. Everything changes when the fire nation attacks when Copia becomes Frater

Read on Ao3

"You need to be fully committed to the Project. No distractions."

"You just retired, you should take some time to enjoy it."

"Things are too busy at the moment."

"Everything just calmed down, we can't summon a ghoul right now. Imagine the chaos."

"The ministry's resources are stretched too thin."

"A child, in the catacombs? Absolutely not."

"We don't have space right now, we have to summon new ghouls for the Project."

"We just summoned four new ghouls."

"No."

"No."

"No."

"No."

Air's empty arms ache. The repeated denials feel like a lost dream, a lost future. Grief like that that runs deep. He had clung tightly to the hope that someday Sister would change her mind, but now that she's gone, he can't help but feel like the last shreds of that hope died with her.

Earth is wrapped around him, a low, protective growl rumbling deep in his chest. He holds Air tightly, fighting back his own tears. They'll find a way.

He keeps Air pressed to his chest, reminiscing about when they first mated. When they first decided they wanted a kit. The first time they asked, and the first time they were told no.

Earth's growl grows louder as he thinks of the excuses and yes he knows it's more difficult to summon a kit than an adult. He knows that raising a kit won't be easy. But he wants it, oh does he want it, with Air by his side.

"It will be okay, sweet skybird."

He presses a kiss to Air's forehead, rubs their noses together. Air chokes on a hiccup, let's himself be crushed against Earth. He feels bad, that Earth seems to always be comforting him when he knows he hurts just as deeply. But for now, Air lets himself be held, and lets his emotions run free.

In the room next door, Dew is reclined on Alpha's bed, heart breaking at the sound of Air's muffled sobs mixed with Earth's growling.

"D'ya think Copia knows? That they've been asking to summon a kit?"

Alpha shrugs.

Dew hums, picking at the hem of his shirt.

"Do you... want kits some day?"

"With you?"

It came out colder than intended, and Dew barely has time to mask the hurt that flickers on his face.

"Rainy and I were talking the other day and -"

"Oh, you and Rainy were talking about kits, were you?" 

This time, he meant to sound cruel. 

Dew scoffs and jumps out of the bed, crossing Alpha's room in six steps this time. He has the mind to pause and do up his fly, throwing a face over his shoulder that makes Alpha thankful looks can't kill. 

"Why were you and Rain even -"

"Save it," Dew bites back.

"Where are you going Dew, the whole abbey is asleep already. We'll talk about this is in the morning."

Dew throws open the door and stomps into the hall.

"Maybe try getting your shit together instead."

He doesn't look back when the door slams behind him, pretends not to hear Alpha's frustrated roar. Just marches towards the library, ignoring the unwelcome tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Dew's footsteps get lighter the further he travels from the catacombs, pausing every now and then to take in the moonlight streaming in through the stained glass windows. Rests at the chapel for a quick prayer for Earth and Air, and to check on Sister's memorial flame.

It's strange, her absence. They had been through a lot together and he, in some ways, misses her. Maybe things could change now that Copia, Frater, runs the clergy.

He doesn't dwell on it too long, opts to leave the chapel as quick as he entered and veers right down a long hallway. The paintings here are poorly lit, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He’s never liked this corridor with all its knowing eyes.

He reaches the library and pushes inside, surprised to see a table still occupied. Less surprised when he approaches and realizes it's Copia, hunched over an old manuscript, making notes in a small leatherbound journal.

Dew rubs at his eyes as he approaches, plops himself down in the seat across from him, careful to not disturb his text.

"Hey Papa."

"My ghoul," Copia smiles gently, placing a worn bookmark into the tome before closing it and moving it to the side. "Are you well? It's very late."

Dew isn't quite sure how to answer that, quietly taps his fingers on the table with a shrug instead.

"You spend much time in the catacombs yes? With the Ancient Ones?"

Dew tries not to grimace, just nods yes with a tight lipped smile.

"How is Air doing? He seemed distraught when my mother passed, and I regretfully haven't been able to visit yet."

Dew rolls a few words around on his tongue, trying to find the best way to explain that particular situation.

"He was of course upset to hear that she passed, but, he and Earth had been waiting to hear back about their um... request."

Copia tilts his head.

"Request?"

"Yes, it was denied by the clergy. Again."

"You'll have to forgive me, my ghoul, but what was the request?"

"They would like to adopt a kit."

"Oh!" Copia smiles broadly. "They would make such wonderful parents, eh? Of course, of course. I'll mention it at tomorrow's meeting."

Dew blinks at Copia, jaw dropping towards the table.

"Papa, Frater, they denied their request forty-seven times."

It's Copia's turn to stare now, aghast, squeaking a bit like a mouse.

"F-f-forty seven denials? Why?"

Dew shrugs, picks at the skin around his claws.

"There were always excuses, but they don't like them. Even Secondo tried."

Copia sets his mouth in a tight line.

"Well that's just silly. Let's get them a kit."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. The cruelty ends with me. My mother may have been wise about some things, but others. Well. Not so much."

Dew is thankful for the late hour when he scrambles across the table to pull Copia into an extremely undignified hug, pushing his chair back so quickly it crashes to the floor.

"Thank you," he breathes into Copia's neck, letting his tears fall freely. He may not have been around for all forty-seven denials, but he's seen enough of them.

Copia wraps his arms around Dew, apologizing for all the things he didn't know about, but can work towards changing.

When Dew pulls away, he tilts his chin up to meet Copia's eyes.

"If the clergy tries to say no again because 'that's what Sister always said', I'll burn the room down with all of them in it."

Copia can't help but laugh, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"No, you wouldn't." He pauses, thinking for a second. "Alpha would though."

Dew can't help but agree, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

"You're right. He would."

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

A gentle knock on the door forces Earth to peel his sticky eyes open, crusting from the tears he shared with Air.

"It's open," he grumbles, pulling Air tight to his chest and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

"Good morning!"

Dewdrop looks a little too chipper, considering they both heard him stomp out of the catacombs and slam every door in his way last night.

Air raises a sleepy brow, silently asking him why in the nine circles they are being disturbed at the unholy hour of ten AM.

"Papa, uh, Frater, would like you to meet him in your common room in twenty minutes."

He's still smiling, and Earth can't help but be a little suspicious.

Dew looks at his feet then, digging his toe into the ground.

"Could you um... could you let Alpha know? I'll go tell River. And Omega, if he's there and not. With... You know."

"Mmn."

He takes that as a verbal affirmative and quickly backs out of their room, alerting the rest of the ancients to the meeting before taking a seat near their hearth. He couldn't bear to miss Copia sharing the good news.

Dew is still smiling when the ghouls begin to file into the room, plopping themselves onto various sofas and chairs. He only scowls when Alpha looks his way, covertly flipping him off while Copia strides in. 

"Good morning my lovelies," he smiles, gently clapping his hands together. He's met with a chorus of half awake greetings, missing the rude face Alpha throws at Dew while his back is turned.

"I've just come from a clergy meeting, and I would like to gather your input on what you all would like for your new den. The ceilings can't be raised here, and I want you all as comfortable as possible, so we are building a new space for you upstairs. You can still come down here if you like. I also need to know what we need for the nursery -"

Earth sits up then, launching himself off of Air's shoulder.

"Nursery?"

His eyes are wide, hand crushing Air's as he waits for Copia to explain. His looks at Dew briefly, catching his smile and tear filled eyes.

"Yes," Copia beams at him. "Your request has been approved. We're going to help you get a kit."

Air slides from the couch and to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he sobs. Earth quickly joins him, holding him tight to his chest.

"You're serious?" he chokes out, a low growl building in the back of his throat.

"If it's what you want, it's okie dokie with me."

"More than anything," Air confirms, and rests his head on Earth's. "We're going to be dads my Earth. It's finally happening."

Dew slips out before he can be pulled into the quickly growing pile, wanting the ancients to enjoy this moment of great joy.

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

"We need to plan a baby shower!" Cumulus beams, bouncing on her toes after Dew shared the good news.

"Yes, but the ancients need time to acclimate. Sister kept them locked away for far too long, I don't want to overwhelm them."

Cumulus nods, bouncy white curls falling in her face.

"Of course! We can make cake, does that ever get sent to the catacombs? And Cici and I can help paint, I'm sure Mountain and Swiss can help build. Speaking of I need to go let her know -"

Cumulus drifts off down the hall, chatting to herself about room designs and party plans, eager to welcome the ghouls back into the main halls of the abbey.

"You doing okay?"

Rain's smooth baritone makes Dew jump, turning to face him in surprise.

"Sorry, thought you heard me come in."

"Yeah, I'm so excited for the them -"

"I know. But you were upset last night, and I want to make sure you're actually okay, not just hiding it "

Dewdrop huffs a sigh. He can't hide anything from Rain. No one can, really. Everyone's pretty convinced that whatever ocean vent he crawled out of gave him some quint-level mind reading powers.

"It's... complicated."

Rain nods and gestures towards the couch.

"C'mon. I'll even let you turn on the Hallmark channel, I think they're playing holiday movies already."

Dew grumbles while pulling some popcorn out of a nearby cabinet, trapped between being annoyed about being known and allowing himself to be comforted, a skill matched only by Air. 

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

"How soon can we try a summoning?"

Air is practically vibrating in his seat, Earth's hand crushed in his own.

Copia has a stack of notes and paperwork, all the necessary permits to expand the abbey and of course Earth and Air's nursery wishlist.

"I'm afraid I've never summoned a kit before, so it may take a few tries before we are successful."

"We understand."

Air and Earth share a quick glance.

"Frater, we have been begging the clergy to help us with a kit for years. Forty-seven times we were told no. We're ready, whenever you are."

Earth squeezes Air's fingers.

"You're sure, my skybird? I know what this means to you, to us, and I fear if we rush you'll be devastated."

Air turns to his partner, holds his cheek gently with his free hand.

"I will be. But then we can try again. As many times as Frater allows."

Earth's eyes brim with tears, mirroring his mate. They turn back to Copia, smiles full of cautious optimism.

"Yes," Earth agrees. "We're ready." 

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

The addition is built rather quickly, ghouls and humans alike eager to bring the ancients out of the catacombs. News of the kit spreads like a wildfire, and soon there are more hands hoisting beams and laying walls than anyone had expected. 

"Which room should face the sun," Copia questions, looking over the layout on his desk. 

"Alpha," Dew answers without hesitation. 

Copia briefly raises a brow before finishing the room assignments, pleased that all the ghouls can now move freely through the abbey. 

"It will take time to lift all of the doorways, but we'll get there."

"Thanks, Papa. Frater." 

"It's fine, my ghoul." Copia wears a gentle, genuine smile. "You know I don't care about the title. Just that you all see me as a friend." 

Dew relaxes again, rests his head on the soft chair. 

"As your friend, and prior Papa, I feel I must tell you that I'm a little concerned about your connection with Alpha." 

Dew's eyes fly open as he scrambles to sit straight in the chair, patting his pocket for his phone. 

"Would you... would you look at that? Oh, Mounty is um. He's, he's calling me so I have to uh, I have to -" 

Dew keeps patting himself for his phone while making his way towards the door, forgetting it on Copia's desk. 

"Dewdrop, you need to talk about this at some point." 

"Dewdrop!"

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

While Dew fails at making a smooth exit from Copia's office, Earth and Air are curled up in their nest, the last day they'll spend in the catacombs. 

"I'm a bit nervous to go up there," Air mumbles, fingers playing with Earth's shirt. 

"I know, skybird. But this will be better for your lungs. And even better for our kit." 

"Yes, yes. It will be. What do you think they'll be like?" 

"I think, no matter what, she'll be absolutely perfect." 

Air scrunches his eyebrows. "She? We told Frater we'd be happy to raise any kit that needed a family." 

"I know," Earth smiles, taking Air's hand in his own. "Call it a hunch." 

They share a few kisses before cuddling back into each other, trading guesses on what they think their kit will be like. Their personality, their element. If they'll choose to veil when they get older. What their family will be like, and how it will grow in love. 

So much love. 

So much love, that when the time comes for the summoning, more ghouls are gathered than have ever gathered at a summoning before. 

Dew stands between Alpha and Rain, arms wrapped around himself as Alpha stares into the side of Rain's head. 

"Will you stop," Dew hisses, glaring at his mate. 

"Will you stop?" 

"Me? Stop what, having friends? What is wrong with you -" 

Rain slowly sneaks away from the pair to stand with Mountain and Swiss, letting them bicker until Copia walks into the room. 

His vestments are glittering even in the candlelight, casting shadows onto the stone walls as he checks the candles and offerings. 

"My lovelies," he smiles, gesturing to Earth and Air. "We are gathered this evening to summon a kit for mates Earth and Air, so that may raise them in the ministry family." 

"Do you accept the roles of parents, to guide this young one with love in your hearts?" 

"We do," they say in unison. 

"And do you promise to always be there for them and each other, in good and bad times, to offer your full support and encouragement?" 

"We do." 

"And do you promise to always love this child, no matter who they are now, and who they may find themselves to be in the future?" 

"We do." 

"Then let it be done." 

Copia picks up a black candle and lights it in the north of the room before kneeling in front of Earth and Air. Earth has a small pile of dirt that Air then lifts with his own element, gently swirling the granules around the candle as Copia stands it before them. 

"We open this portal to any kit in search of a loving home, eager to accept them into our arms." 

The portal fizzles to life, and Air's breath hitches. Earth squeezes his hand and Dew reaches towards Alpha, who tightens his own into a fist. Rain glares while Dew frowns, before all eyes return to the swirling portal before them. 

It spins. 

And it spins. 

And it spins. 

Ghouls less close to Earth and Air respectfully begin to shuffle out of the room, and Copia closes the portal by extinguishing the flame while Air's broken whine echoes against the walls. 

"I'm so sorry," he offers with a gentle hand to his shoulder. "But next week is a full moon, eh? We will try again." 

"Thank you Frater," Earth manages, lip trembling. 

They knew. They understood. They talked and talked and talked and openly acknowledged that it might not happen the first time, but all the preparations in the world couldn't have possibly protected their gentle hearts when they were so ready to love whoever came through. 

"It's not a no," Air whispers against Earth's shoulder. "Just a not yet." 

Earth swallows his tears down and wraps himself against Air, his shuddering breath making the ground tremble. 

"If you need anything, my lovelies, I'll be in my office preparing for our next attempt. You are loved." 

Alpha opens his mouth and Dew immediately grabs at his shoulder, reaching for his ear. 

“For the love of Satan's taint, if you say anything to either of them right now I will send you back to the pits myself.” 

“When did you grow a backbone,” Alpha scoffs, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“Shouldn't you know,” Aether starts, “you’re the one always blowing it out.” 

Dew's already pale skin gets paler, wiping his hands down his face. 

“You are all ridiculous and I hate you.” 

He steps away from the others to approach Earth and Air, sitting down in front of them. 

“I'm so sorry.” 

Air looks at him with shining blue eyes, Earth opens his free arm, not lifting his face from his mate's shoulder. 

“Can I hug you?” 

Dew asks so quietly, but Air has always been there for him. He wants to do the same.

Air nods and lifts an arm as well, and Dew quickly climbs between them, wrapping himself around the ancients as best he can. He kicks up his heat and his rusty pur, acting like a living weighted blanket. 

“I kn-know it might not have worked but,” Air hiccups, “but I really hoped it would.”

“I know,” Dew sighs. “It's okay to mourn the loss of this moment.” 

Rain and Mountain appear with a pile of blankets, and Swiss follows shortly with a large stack of pillows. 

“Figured you might not want to go back to your den or the catacombs right now,” Rain offers, wrapping the three ghouls in a large soft blanket. 

The thought of the empty nursery weighs heavy on all of them. 

“Would you like us to go?” 

Mountain gestures at his pack and rest of the Ancient Ones, all standing with clasped hands and solemn expressions. Even Alpha has the sense to look disappointed, though it may have been at the prospect of sleeping on the floor and not in his nest. 

Air and Earth exchange a quick glance at each other. 

“Get in here,” Earth grumbles, and he lets himself and Air be pulled down into a loudly purring pile. 

⸸⸸⸸⸸⸸

They try the next summoning at the peak of the full moon. 

“I'm scared,” Air admits while he wrings his hands together nervously. 

“Me too,” says Earth before taking Air's face in his hands. “But no matter what, we're both here. Together. And nothing can change that.”  

This time, the room is empty, except for them. They appreciated the outpouring of love the last time, but now they want to face the portal by themselves.  

Dew understands, though he can't help pace the hall outside nervously. 

“Would you stop it, the echo is giving me a headache,” Alpha grumbles, crossing his arms as he leans on the wall. 

Dew pauses in front of him, hands on his hips.

“Why did you come with me if you were just going to be a dick?” 

“I… don't know.” 

Dew narrows his eyes at his mate before sitting on the ground across from him, wrapping his arms around his knees. He looks up for a moment when Copia walks by, offering a quiet wish for good luck.

Copia bids his thanks and quietly enters the room. He finds Air and Earth hand in hand at the center, the room laid out exactly as before, except - 

“The candles,” he starts, seeing Earth nod. 

“We hope it's okay but we changed out the ceremonial candles for a few that were more personal.” 

He explains, pointing to each candle as he goes. 

“The red fire candle is from our mating ceremony. The blue water candle was a gift from River when we announced that we were becoming exclusive, to certify our mating bond. The white air candle and green earth candles were from our summonings. And the purple quintessence candle is the same candle that has always been used, as it never burns out.” 

Air takes a small step forward then, offering a black candle to Copia. 

“I think you'll recognize this one.” 

His voice is much tighter than Earth's, his emotions at risk of bubbling to the surface at any moment. Copia nods, takes it with a gentle smile. 

“I think this is a beautiful tribute. We are ready to begin, then?” 

Air and Earth say that they are in unison, sharing a quick smile before Copia begins the ceremony. 

The portal opens, a swirling mix of elemental colors. The three men hold their breath as they watch it spin. 

And spin. 

And spin. 

And just as Air and Earth drop their heads in defeat, Copia's gasp fills them with hope. 

“Look, my lovelies, something is coming through!” 

Earth and Air scramble closer, seeing horns flicker in and out of the portal. They quickly take shape and soon they see the tip of a tail, a leg, an arm. A few more seconds pass and Earth feels the urge to open his arms, to step forward and catch the sweet kit as the portal closes.

They land in his arms softly and a hundred things flash before his eyes, dreams and possibilities and a future he had been so afraid to want, yet wanted like nothing else. He finally lets the tears fall, hitting the ground in big fat drops.

“Earth?”

Air has a gentle hand on his elbow, and he sniffles before turning around with a smile that could illuminate even the darkest corners of the catacombs. He feels their little heart breathing, the rapid rise and fall of their little chest. He holds up their kit, voice thick with emotion.

“It's a girl!”

[tasty-ribz]

middle aged men selfie

[serene-sun]

'You can always reach me

You will never ever walk alone' 🦇

Using this to honestly just comfort myself because I’m having the worst month possible. Nevermind today, todays health is falling miserably :(

Copia gently knocked on the bathroom door, “everything ok little one?” He asked softly

You whined, overstimulation taking over as you started to cry.

The ear ache, stomach cramps, the bleeding from your angry uterus, the shakiness of your hands, the weakness to stand and move, the sunburn, the allergic reaction hives across your arms and thighs.

It was all far too much.

“Darling? Ok I’m coming in.” Copia said before pushing open the bathroom door to find you curled up shivering in the corner of the bathtub.

“Is everything ok?” He urgently went to your side as he kneeled down.

“No.” You say honestly, legs quivering twice as much as your voice.

“What’s the issue?” He says, hand on your knee to try and comfort you while still waiting an answer.

“Everything…” you say, head falling to rest against the white tile, “it’s hard to speak.” You say shakily.

“Ok just give me one second,” he looks around the bathroom before grabbing a notepad and pen from your bag you dropped down after getting back to your room. “Eh can you write?” He asks awkwardly

You give him an annoyed look but do your best to take the pen, it takes you three tries to pick it up, just writing two words makes you almost pass out.

“Ok…I think I know what the issue is” he rubs your knees as he realizes the recent behavior changes, it adds up for him.

“This shaking and fatigue, it’s your blood sugar too right? Let me see, I think we have some of your favorite tres leches in the fridge.” He says, getting off his knees as he gently wipes a tear from your face.

After a few minutes, he comes back with a Benadryl, four pads, your iPad, a blanket, a cup of tres leches and strawberries, a bottled water and one of his track suits.

“Ok, can you try to change for me? I know it’s hard but I promise you will feel so much better my little bat.” He smiles softly as he sets the stuff down.

After an attempt of changing, taking a Benadryl and getting comfy with copia in the bathtub; you both watch YouTube on your iPad and eat tres leches as you try to get your blood sugar back up.

[themratts]

A Surprise For Papa

[ A mysterious 'gift' arrives at the ministry, addressed to Copia, and he's not quite sure what to make of it ]

Rating: Teens and Up (May be subject to change)

Chapter One • Delivery (word count : 2.3K)

—— 🍼

It was easy enough for Papa to get into the zone when it came to his ministry work. Despite how tedious and time consuming it could often be, by now, at his age, he was more than familiar with the grind and it came simply enough to him every day.

He’d sit, at his usual deskspace with his usual documents and reports and church budgets and he’d scribble away at them for as long as he had to. The trick was not to get knocked out of his focus once he was already in. That in itself, was the hard part. As he set his coffee mug down, three sturdy knocks met the door of his study, and when the Ghoul’s voice followed, Papa knew he was in for a long day.

“Hey,” Before Copia could even respond, the door was being opened and his eyes were greeted by the sleek and feisty figure of the fire ghoul. Dewdrop leaned against the doorframe, he told him, “Something’s here for you,”

“What?” That was odd. Not that things - fanmail, letters, whatever else - never came for him, but they were commonly delivered to his personal chambers. The odd part was the way Dew had shown up just to tell him about it, “Here for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?” He asked but the ghoul only shrugged.

“Haven’t opened it. But it’s weird.”

Copia wasn’t sure if he was more curious, or worried. He turned in his chair now, papers forgotten for the moment. “Weird how?”

“Come and see for yourself,” As he left, Dewdrop flicked his tail and then it disappeared into the hallway. Papa knew he shouldn’t. He needed to stay, to get things done. Yet, he couldn’t help the urge to follow him. As if something was pulling him from his chair. Copia rose to his feet, and made his way after the ghoul in the distance.

He led him through the hall and down the main staircase. Before turning, and gearing them into the ghoul livingspace. A widened room with separate halls that would lead to ghoul dormitories, but the open area served as a nice space for them to hang out. Ahead, Papa could see two ghouls crowded around a small table. And when he got closer, he recognized them to be Aether and Swiss. Aether was especially close to whatever was on the table, nose twitching when he sniffed so curiously. Dew stepped to the side, hands on his hips.

“Guys, move.”

The other ghouls looked up, and backed away when Copia approached. Now that he could see what they were looking at, he was even more weirded out. A basket, it looked like, covered by a lumpy, stuffed-in sheet with a single folded piece of paper sat atop. A note, it looked like. It simply read “Papa” on the front. Copia’s brows furrowed, creasing the paint on his forehead. He looked at the mysterious package, to his ghouls, and then back down.

“Where did you get this?”

“It was left at the gate this morning,” Swiss answered, crossing his legs where he sat on the other side of the table.

“The gate?” Copia almost laughed, “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“Nope,” and Dew shoved his clawed hands into his pockets, “Although that’d be hilarious.”

On the other side of Papa, Aether was taking another step back. He shook his head and crossed his arms, “It smells so strange,” He noted, tilting his head, “You should open it.”

“It smells strange? What does it smell like?”

All three ghouls exchanged a look. A hard to read expression, but it was enough to creep Copia out. He shivered, and when none of them answered, he reached instead for the note that was laid atop the blanket. It was written in unfamiliar handwriting, on thin, ordinary lined paper. He scanned the front and the back, before flipping it open. In big letters on the inside, the words read,

“Your problem now.”

Disturbing. A deeper confusion coursed through him and Papa turned back to his ghouls, “you are sure this isn’t a prank?”

“Not a chance,” Dew raised his hands innocently. Feeling defeated , Copia once again forced his attention back to the basket. He was almost scared to open it. He felt a pressure in his chest, an uneasiness. The circumstances were just so weird. But what choice did he really have?

“Alright,” He sighed. And Copia let his gloved fingers grace the edge of the basket. He hovered there for a second, before moving again. And when he did, he jumped backwards. Something inside the basket had moved, too. “Wh-what the hell!?”

“Dude,” Dew pushed him forward, “Open it!”

“What is it!?”

“We don’t know any more than you do.” A blatant lie.

Papa grumbled. He went to push and rub at his temples but halted when he remembered his face paint. He had to resort to a groan instead.

The thought that whatever was in the basket was alive was both alarming and very concerning. His hand crept forward to the blanket again, as he decided not to waste anymore time in getting to the bottom of it. Carefully, he removed the sides from their tucked position, and lifted the blanket from the basket.

It was barely in his hand for a second before he’d dropped it in shock. Papa gasped, stumbling backward and letting his mouth drop open. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to be inside- but it definitely wasn’t that. A tiny, wrapped up, sleeping little baby.

“What-what the fuck!?” He yelled , slapping his hand to his head. Way, way too startled to care about his paint anymore, “what.. what!!?”

The ghouls were looking at each other, but none of them seemed as surprised. They’d known, of course, what was in there the whole time- from the moment they’d picked it up, the sound of the infant’s heartbeat had been a giveaway.

Copia spun around to them, “what is the goddamn meaning of this!?”

But Dew shrugged, “I feel like we should be asking you that,”

“che cazzo vuoi dire!?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious,”

“No it isn’t!?”

“Well,” Swiss leaned forward on the table, “it must be yours.”

“My…..” Copia felt like he’d just hit a brick wall. His stomach absolutely dropped, and he stared blankly at the small baby in confusion and disbelief. “..it… n-no, it can’t be. It can’t be,”

“Why the hell else would it be here?”

“It-It’s not mine.”

“Dude-“

“It isn’t!” Stressed, Copia’s fingers raked through his hair, “It-It just can’t be!”

“Hey, Relax,” Aether placed a hand, soothingly to Copia’s back. Well, about as soothingly as pointed claws can manage, “we’ll figure this out,”

Inside the basket, all the commotion had begun to rouse the sleeping infant. Its hands grabbed weakly at the sheet it was swaddled in , eyes barely opening. Copia just watched. He could hardly breathe.

It… it couldn’t be….

..Could it?

Dew’s tail thumped against Copia’s leg, “why the fuck would someone leave you with their baby if it’s not yours?”

“Can you, please…” Papa groaned. He pulled a chair out from the table and slumped himself into it. “I need… to think for a minute. I just… oh my god…”

Swiss leaned a little closer. Nose angled toward the baby’s hair, “little thing’s super fresh too,” he said, then looked up, “what were you doing nine months ago? Or. I guess. Who?”

Copia remained slumped against the table. He shook his head, “how-how should I know..”

“Nine months ago… nine…” Aeth suddenly snapped his fingers, “We were still out on tour nine months ago,”

The realization settled in on all of them, and all three ghouls slowly turned their heads toward Papa. He was staring blankly at the table, unmoving, stiff as a board but the piercing red that painted his ears was a clear indication that he was in fact, still listening.

“..So, did you..?”

“-on tour?”

“I mean, that’s about right, but-”

“Please.” Copia groaned and leaned back in his chair. His head was pounding, even as he tried to think back to however many months ago, just entertaining the idea that this baby was somehow his had him shaken. What were the chances of this!? He felt… extremely unprepared. “Just… just let me breathe for one moment..”

The ghouls managed to silence themselves, and exchanged looks instead. They weren’t entirely sure how to feel, either. As humorous as it partially was, this was also a very, very serious deal. If this was, in fact, the child of an Emeritus.

The baby made a small, fussy noise and flexed its little hand again. Aether reached forward, allowing it to grab hold of his claw. He smiled, “Cute,”

“Do you think it came from on tour?” Dew asked, and leaned forward on the table beside Papa. The man was quiet for a second, mind running a mile a minute. It was moments until he answered. Quietly, palm against his forehead.

“It’s… it’s not impossible,” he groaned, “but-but unlikely, no? This wasn’t.. I mean, I..”

“I guess you’re a father now,” Dewdrop suddenly slapped him on the back, “Congratulations,”

“Fermare, we don’t know that,”

“There is literally no other reason this baby would be here right now,”

“You know, it’s addressed to ‘Papa’ and not to ‘Copia’, notice?” Aether pointed out, then. He picked the card up, and flipped it around on all sides, as if in search of a clue, “Maybe it came from someone inside the ministry? You know, a congregational member?”

Swiss shrugged, “Yeah, but on tour?”

“Those Sisters who come along and help out backstage?”

“Ohhhh,”

They both looked to Copia, awaiting an answer or reply but he just sat there, blank look on his face. His eyes descended toward the baby in the basket, who was looking at him now, too, and smiling. His heart felt a million things at once, “I can’t believe this..”

“What about a DNA test?” Aether suggested with a shrug, “You know, just to make sure.”

“Yes,” Papa swallowed. It was almost like the reality had started to settle in, and the longer he gazed upon the infant the realer it started to feel. Was it true? Was he really a father now? And if that were the case… who the hell was this baby’s mother?

He felt regret, fear and uncertainty. Guilt. Copia leaned forward, exhaling deeply and covering the upper part of his face with his already paint-stained gloves. He shook his head, mumbling something not quite audible. The ghouls looked at each other. And Dew took a step back, “I’m gonna go get Sister,”

“No,” Copia lifted his head, “Please, per favore, she cannot know about this!”

“What?” The ghoul let out an amused hiss, one of laughter, “You expect to hide an entire baby from her?” He could practically see Papa sweating.

“we-well… eh…”

“They’re gonna know about this one way or another.”

He knew they were right. Groaning again, Copia just shook his head and slumped back in the chair. He didn’t notice when Dewdrop turned and left the room, but even then, he didn’t care. His body felt numb, and he stared and stared at that little bundle on the table. How could something so small carry such a heavy weight of responsibility? He couldn’t even imagine what this would do to his schedule. To his… everything. Copia trembled.

“I.. I-I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby,” And Aether placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it there.

“It’s alright,” He did his best to comfort, “You’ll figure it out,”

“How could this have happened…” Papa shook his head, slowly. And when he turned, and looked up at the ghoul beside him, his eyes appeared damp, “How could I be such an idiot?”

“You aren’t an idiot,”

“The thought of..” He paused, and his lip quivered. Copia turned his head away, emotions hitting him somewhat suddenly. He told him, “...the thought of someone, someone carrying my child, while I am far away, with no idea, no way to care for her, to be there or to help… that breaks my heart,”

“Hey,” Aether continued to pat his shoulder, “Hey, It’s alright. And… besides. She seemed to know where you are, yeah? She left the baby here. So.. if she’d wanted you for anything, don’t you think she’d have reached out?”

Papa hung his head, low. The words weren’t nearly as comforting as they might’ve sounded. Whoever this woman was, she likely wanted nothing to do with him. Nor with the baby, apparently. The longer he thought about it, the sadder he became.

Copia rose from his seat. The baby gazed up at him, eyes wide and curious, and made a small babbling sound. The man sighed, “I don’t know. I don’t know.. where this came from, or what’s going on here, but. We certainly aren’t going to leave it here, and certainly not without a home.”

From the basket, he lifted the little baby, still wrapped and swaddled in its blankets. It was warm, precious, and when its little head lay against him he felt himself melt. He mumbled quietly, “You are certainly adorable..” And brought one finger up to let it grab. The baby giggled, gently when it did and Copia couldn’t fight his smile. “I wonder if you have a name,”

“I guess you’ll pick the name,”

“I guess…” Papa sighed. He only watched, still and mesmerized by the tiny being in his arms, how sweet and sound, and resting on the possibility that this baby was his own. He just couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. It had been so quick, so sudden. And yet.. after only ten seconds in his arms, Copia knew. If this baby was his… if it was really true. He wouldn’t stop at anything to be the best, the best Papa that he could possibly be.

[ghostchems]

on leather wings - papa emeritus iv x f!reader

copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time

a/n: it's finally here! 2.7k words. fucking, fingering, rough sex kind of, copia being adorable, etc. etc. mdni! 18+! hoping to get myself out of writer's block with this one :') ao3 link! and yes... i named this after an ep of btas

You step out of the car, a ghoul quick to take your bag from you, and you are met with a black Victorian home with an impeccably nurtured lawn. It looks warm and inviting, like there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you inside. You make your way down the short gravel path to the front door, entering the code you had been texted not long ago. The latch clicks and you twist the knob, pushing the door open and stepping into the dark foyer. A chandelier hangs in the center of the room, dimly lighting the intricate black and red wallpaper and the antique mahogany display case that is filled with witchy decor. A small smile flickers across your face as another ghoul enters the room and whisks you away down a hallway.

At the end of it is a grand dining room with a lush fireplace heating the room. You immediately see him, standing behind the chair at the head of the table, dressed in his usual tattered suit and blue cravat. 

“Ah, amore, you made it! I hope the instructions, eh, weren’t too… confusing. I was quite a bit excited when I wrote them.” Papa clasps his hands together in delight. He saunters over to you, his lips pulled into a wide grin. You are quick to meet him, his hands reaching to hold onto your arms and stroke along the backs of your elbows. “How are you? How was the drive, eh?”

“I’m good and it all went smoothly but, Copia, what is all this? Is something going on?” You are excited of course but you can’t help but feel concern. Something about this – the instructions, the ghouls, the dining room table lined with delicious food – has a last night on Earth vibe. The broad smile on his face helps ease the feelings though.

“Nothing to worry about, amore.” Copia can sense your unease, his words light and even. “This is a treat for you and I, something different… something nice, something just for us.” He gives you a knowing look. Copia was never one to complain about his duties even when he was at the brink of exhaustion but it pained him to let it affect your relationship. There’s been less time for you in his schedule and while you understand that his role is extremely important to the Clergy there were times you felt a bit overlooked.

“I was thinking about dinner and then maybe a movie, eh? A classic date.” He is adorable and you can’t get over it. There’s something about Copia in this setting that makes your heart race and your cheeks red. Your eyes flicker around the dining room again, thinking that maybe the two of you would have ended up in a home like this if they lived drastically different lives. 

“That sounds… perfetto.” Copia’s face lights up at your poor sounding Italian. He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, intimate embrace. His breath tickles your ear and he gives it a soft nip before pulling away and squeezes your arms once again. 

A movie night that won’t get interrupted by Sister Imperator or one of her secretaries? Your face lights up. It’s been so long since the two of you were able to enjoy each other’s company without some kind of interruption.

Dinner truly is perfect. He made you your favorite: seafood fra diavolo and he makes sure to give you extra shrimps since they are your favorite. Copia has your wine glass filled every time it goes below halfway and he is constantly asking how the food is and if you need anything, anything at all. Copia’s gaze hardly leaves you, he spends most of the dinner holding your hand, playing with your fingers, that you end up almost yelling at him to actually eat between small giggles. 

Having him to yourself like this is almost overwhelming. Gradually, after you’ve finished forcing Copia to enjoy his own food, the two of you make your way to the cozy, witchy den and onto the couch. 

“What movie? I’m sure you already have one picked out.” You shift closer to him on the couch, your knees touching now. Copia takes the blanket beside him and opens it, draping it across the two of you before he leans against you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Ovviamente.” He breathes against the shell of your ear. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula, if you are still in a, eh, spooky mood.” You can feel him smile into your neck and you suck in a sharp breath, snuggling even further against him under the blanket. 

“That’s perfect.” Your voice drops to a whisper. Copia’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him and nestling you against his chest before starting the movie. It feels almost magical that you’re able to sit here with your love in comfortable silence while watching one of your favorite movies. There’s never any silence at the abbey, not until the later hours of the evening when you’re finally able to see Copia after a long day of his duties. The only interruption comes close to the end of the movie when his lips press to your neck, sending a thrill down your spine.

“I have a surprise for you. Una piccola sorpresa.” Copia murmurs against your hair, feeling his breath huff against you. “Meet me upstairs, per favore? Give me like, eh… ten minutes?” You tilt your head up to look at him, taking in the soft smile on his face and you give a small nod. He presses a kiss to your forehead and gets up from the couch, leaving you alone in the den. 

This all feels so special. More special than anything he’s ever done for you in the past. You know why it had to be a secret. You would have told him to get some rest instead of planning an elaborate weekend for the two of you. He deserved to have time to himself, to relax after touring the world with the ghouls. But it was just like him to want to spend that time doing something nice for you. This is the first time the two of you have been able to get away from the abbey since you started seeing each other.

And it’s perfect. Your eyes sweep over the den, the spooky decor and interior making you feel right at home. You’re already buzzed from the Papastrello and you feel cozy under the blankets. The grandfather clock in the room ticks away, your eyes fixated on the time, mindfully counting down until ten minutes had passed. You can’t keep your Papa waiting. 

After the minutes go by, you start to head up the stairs, anticipation in your steps. The door to the bedroom is slightly open and you try to get a peek into the dim room but you don’t see Copia. You push the door open with a small creak and you immediately hear Copia groan from the bathroom, which stops you in your tracks. You’re sure you’re not too early… but you don’t want to disturb him even though it sounds like he could use some help. You push the door open a bit more, slowly and step inside.

“Amore? Is that you?” Copia asks in a hushed whisper, stress hanging in his voice. For a moment you’re too anxious to answer but you manage to squeak out a response.

“It is.”

“Oh, bene bene.” He sighs, his relief evident in his voice. “I am, ugh, having some trouble with the surprise.” 

“How can I help?” You are quick to make your way to the bathroom door, trying to listen in to what’s happening on the other side.

“Fuck. It’ll ruin la sorpresa.” He grumbles to himself “I-I’m sorry you couldn’t see me, eh, completely done.” Before you’re able to tell him not to be sorry at all he emerges from the bathroom and your mind goes completely blank. Even in the lowlight you can see the blush creeping up his freckled shoulders and cheeks. Copia is wearing nothing but a small pair of black briefs, his black gloves with skeleton details and half of his batwing harness, having secured it through one of his arms but not the other. “I, heh, usually have some help getting these on.” 

Your mouth opens but you can’t manage words, making an embarrassing grunt as you nod and move in to help him. The leather straps to the harness are smooth in your hands and you work to make sure the other wing is secure before moving to his chest. A breath catches in your throat as your fingers brush along his chest, nails lightly scratching at his chest hair while you pull the leather straps through their buckles. Your cheeks are already burning and you hear your heart thunder in your ears. A groan leaves his lips, his hot breath grazing your forehead which makes your eyes flicker up to his. 

Copia’s eyes are dark with devilish lust, his lips parted as he sucks in a sharp breath the second your eyes meet his. His securely fastened arm reaches for you, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of your top to tug you in closer to him by the waist. By the time you finish the last buckle, he has you pressed to his chest with your arms trapped between the two of you. He lifts his other hand to grip you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. Your noses are almost touching as your eyes drop to look at his lips.

“Do you like it, amore?” Copia murmurs huskily, his lips hovering so close. You want to tell him that this means the world to you but the way he is looking at you makes it hard to speak. Your lips graze his painted ones so lightly, eyes flickering up to meet his hungry gaze before they squeeze shut as you finally kiss him. The air leaves your lungs when his tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him enough to take your breath away. Your hands curl around the leather straps to hold onto him as he backs you into an antique desk. 

He already has your pants almost off, his hand slipping down the front of your underwear and wasting no time feeling your slick. You moan from his touch, a finger pushing inside of you with ease. Copia shudders and presses his hips to your thigh, his cock throbbing through his tight briefs. He buries his face in your neck as he starts to desperately grind against your thigh while he fingers you, sharp gasps and groans muffled against you. You’re almost light headed by how quickly things have escalated but that doesn’t stop you from slipping your hand between the two of you.

“Do you feel how wet you make me, Papa?” You breathe and he answers with a whine. You push down his briefs, his cock springing free and you take it in your hand, giving it long, languid strokes. Copia shivers, his entire body pausing to take in how good your fingers feel wrapped tightly around him. He lifts his head slowly and your gaze meets his, his pupils blown so wide with lust that they are nearly completely black. You stroke him a few more times before letting go and leaning back on the desk. He huffs at the loss but ends up sucking in a sharp breath as you start to remove your blouse. You take your time, putting on a show for him, making him wait to see you fully. The blouse finally falls from your shoulders and he immediately grabs you, his mouth crushing against yours as his cock presses close to your entrance. 

You moan deeply into his mouth and your hands find the leather straps of his harness again, holding onto them tightly. Copia drives his cock into you with a lewd grunt, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other digs into your hip as he fucks into you. It’s rough and possessive, his thighs slapping into yours with each desperate thrust. The desk beneath the two of you rattles with each violent jerk of his hips and you can’t help but hold onto him for dear life. You feel your climax growing inside of you, your abdomen tightening and your legs starting to tense up. He hooks one of his arms beneath your knee and raises your leg up, allowing him to push even deeper inside of you.

You throw your head back and cry out, the new sensation of his cock massaging your deepest, most sensitive spots making your walls flex around him. Copia is panting heavily between whines and growls, his head lowering even further to mouth and lick at your breasts. He groans into your chest and you feel the vibration throughout your body. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge when his full lips find one of your nipples and he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. You come undone then and there, shockwaves gripping your body and your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. A growl catches in his throat as he spills inside of you, his hips jerking wildly before slowly coming to a stop. His heavy breathes fill your ear, your hands still firmly holding his harness as he finally lifts his head and takes a step back to give you some space. 

“I, eh, got a little carried away.” Copia sighs and runs a hand over his face, his paints already smeared. “You are just too irresistible, amore.” You can see a light blush on his cheeks just underneath his paints as your fingers start to trace along his full lips. 

“Oh, hush.” You smile before chewing on your lower lip. “Sit on the bed. I want to admire your wings.” You gently start to push him toward the bed and he lets you, allowing you to guide him until he reaches the edge. He sits and you push him further so that his back is against the headboard. You slip into his lap and your hands immediately go back to his harness, fingertips grazing where the leather straps and his chest meet. Copia gives a low purr as he leans his head back against the headboard, his eyes falling shut as he basks in your touch.

You’re finally able to get a good look at him now, your eyes taking in how the harness shapes his strong chest. He always looked good in it on stage but this is so much more intimate. The dark straps of the harness stand stark against his bare skin framing his broad chest and extenuating his bulging pecs. Touring had been good to him building softly toned muscle underneath his soft curves that never failed to drive you wild. Now you had him beneath you you couldn't keep your hands off him, tracing where the straps sat snug against his skin, his fluffy body hair tickling your fingertips. They drift over his 666 tattoo while your other hand moves down one of his arms, touching at the strap at his wrist and the tips of his leather wings. He huffs and starts to run his hand up and down your back, his wing brushing against it as his gloved fingers glide down your spine. 

“I love you.” The words tumble from your lips once your eyes meet. He makes the smallest, sweetest sound of affection, as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile before nuzzling into your neck. You feel him squirm beneath you, trying to allow you to continue touching him but his fingers twitch until he finally gives up. Copia’s arms curl against you, pulling you against his chest. His wings press into your bareback, wrapping around your naked body in a way that feels so safe. He holds you there, safe in his embrace, and you don’t dare let him go. Copia raises his lips to your ear.

“Ti ameró per sempre. I am with you always, amore.”