#terzo x reader

[dantesunbreaker]

Cold Cuddles with the Papas(Headcanons)

No warnings apply, just some tooth rotting fluff from our favorite old men!

Primo 

As the eldest brother, it is safe to assume his circulation isn’t as great as it once was. Thus, blankets and warm fuzzy socks are always in abundance with Primo

When you approach him complaining about the cold, Primo is pulling out a pair of double layer socks before you have even finished getting the words out

If he still has work that needs his attendance, Primo will usher you both to the loveseat in his office. An end table will be pulled up to use as a desk, blanket wrapped around you both so you can nestle against him for warmth

But when there is no work to be done, Primo will brew a nice hot pot of tea for you both to share

Together you retire to his chambers where the heat is always turned up to the perfect comfortable temperature

Always takes up the chance to put you in one of his older sweaters because Primo loves the sight of your sleepy face while bundled up in his clothing

If even all of that does little to fight off the could, Primo will sit and cuddle with you beneath a layer of thick blankets until you are warm enough

Your favorite is the occasions where this turns your evening into soft warm cuddles the rest of the day and sharing some delicious soup made with vegetables from Primo’s garden

Secondo

Seems very much like a tough love kind of guy. First response when you come to him complaining about the cold is “well damn, I can’t control the weather”

But a quick flash of the puppy dogs is all it takes to change Secondo’s tune

If you are outside together and you begin to shiver, Secondo will groan, but always will offer up his coat. Pretends he walks with his arm around you to further keep you warm, but you know it because he also feels the cold

When inside and you mention being cold, Secondo simply offers to turn up the heater. 

He often takes things for face value, so either prepare to work for it if you want cuddles from him or simply be blunt about it. No matter the method, you end up getting what you want. 

Sometimes, when you can’t manage to pull him away from his work, you will rest on his lap with a blanket pulled snug around your shoulders as he continues going through paperwork

Other times Secondo will take the time to sit down and relax with you lounging under a throw blanket together in his office

Offers to make you something hot to drink, whether it be coffee, tea, or even hot chocolate. 

Don’t tell his brothers, but he loves when you pick hot chocolate because he uses it as an excuse to also indulge in the delicious chocolatey drink

Terzo

Most likely to be over dramatic about the situation, and also most likely to be equally as affected by the temperature

Do not expect Terzo to offer his coat! “But the outfit was planned around the coat! Taking it off will ruin the look!” He will however walk with an arm around  you, pulled tight against his side so that you can share his body heat

Getting Terzo to accomplish any work when it is cold is a difficult task, but you don’t want him getting in MORE trouble with Sister Imperator

So cold mornings you find yourself accompanying Terzo throughout his day, hot drinks always in hand, warm coats and blankets at the ready constantly

You will stand behind his chair, arms around him with blanket hanging over so that you can wrap him up in your loving warmth as you coax him to get through at least half the stack of papers on his desk

But when Terzo does not have work, expect an extravagant yet cozy night ahead of you

Expertly gets the fireplace going, all the lights off so only the firelit illuminates the room. Absolutely has a huge furry rug in front of the fireplace, which is where you spend the evening cuddling with dozens of pillows and extra blankets

Special occasions you can also expect to share some mulled wine as you bask in the warmth of the fire together, tangled up in each other’s limbs

Copia

Always one to worry, Copia will instantly be fretting over you if you mention being cold around him

Before you can even say anything else, Copia is pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to check for a fever followed by rapid fire questions asking if you are feeling ill

Takes a couple of minutes to settle him down enough to explain that you aren’t sick, you are just a bit chilly and in need of some Copia cuddles

Worry is quickly replaced with affection, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest. “Oh! Why didn’t you just say so!”

Often one to work too hard, Copia however will set aside his work in these kind of occasions

The couch in his office always has a rather thick throw blanket on it, strategically left by you entirely for the purpose for when you have days like this

Copia will get you both nice steaming cups of hot chocolate, mini marshmallows included!

Both of you curl up together on the couch, blanket thrown over your laps as you carefully sip on your drinks and talk about whatever comes to mind

On some occasions you fall asleep against him, and Copia absolutely refuses to wake you from such a pleasant slumber. So, he instead he simply does his best to complete whatever work he can from the couch until you eventually wake up on your own

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅

WARNING!! - NSFW

All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style

Primo

Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)

Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you

Soft and slow, very gentle

Long, painted strokes along your entire area

Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit

Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth

Secondo

Roughly fingers you while eating you out

Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you

Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too

Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him

Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)

Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)

Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him

Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs

Massages your ass and tits while eating you out

Terzo

Would die happy drowned in pussy

Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day

Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt

In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)

Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress

LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe

Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides

Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit

Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming

Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)

Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue

While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will

Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that

Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)

Copia

Kisses every inch of you

Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)

Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)

Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face

Wants to be used like your sex toy

Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off

Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response

He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times

Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it

Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”

Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)

[cynibuns]

release

AHH hello! My name is Cyn and I am new to ghost tumblr but not new to the ghost fandom!! You can find prints of this here !

[writingjourney]

Better Than Your Hands | Terzo x f!Reader

You try not to wake your Papa when you come home but he's ever so perceptive as to what you're up to.

Content: 1.1k words, f!reader, smut (mild dom!terzo, caught masturbating, biting, teasing, p in v, light manhandling, unprotected, coming inside) 18+, MDNI

In a shocking twist of events I wrote my first Terzo smut, more as a practice than to share it but I was convinced by my friends. This is for @leezlelatch ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link

The room is draped in deep shadows. A sliver of pale moonlight falls onto the sleeping man’s face, bare and soft without the edges of his paints, framed by his unkempt raven hair with silver streaks. He looks so peaceful like this, the reading glasses and his book safely resting on the nightstand. He sleeps in the same pose as always – on his back with one hand spread in the direction of your pillow. Only tonight his arms have nothing to curl around. 

For a moment you wish you would have come home earlier to see him reading. To have him read to you in Italian like most nights with your head on his pillowy chest. You have settled into a slower life these days and yet it is rare to see him so utterly relaxed. You’ve been wanting him all day, needing him, craving him, but you cannot bring yourself to wake him up so selfishly. 

Instead you tiptoe to the bathroom, tiptoe to your closet to find one of his shirts and then tiptoe over to your bed. You’re tired when you soundlessly slip beneath the blankets, exhausted after working so late tonight. You could fall asleep instantly, follow him into this peaceful state, if it weren’t for the persistent throbbing between your thighs.

You roll to your side, facing away from the sleeping man next to you. Your hand slides down your body, no time for gentle caresses as you shove it underneath the waistband of your panties. A soft sigh leaves your lips when you feel the wetness between your legs and you run your fingers through your folds, teasing your clit with every motion. As the friction finally provides some relief, your head falls back into the pillow. You start to rub slow but intense circles, heat slowly spreading in your body. It’s quick and messy but you think you can–

The mattress dips beneath you, a silent, unexpected quake that brings you to a stop as you try to make out any sounds that indicate whether he woke up or not. Before you can turn around a hand much broader than your own slides between your legs, cupping your own, and the strong forearm it’s attached to keeps you still.

“What do you think you are doing here, bella?” he purrs.

You shift uncomfortably, your cheeks heating up. “You were asleep when I got home.”

“Amore, you know you can always wake your Papa when you need him, eh?”

His second arm snakes underneath your body like a serpent, a firm hand spreading over your belly before he pulls you across the mattress and flush against him. One knee pushes between your legs until his thigh is pressed tightly against your wet cunt.

“Do you think I could ever be too tired to fuck you?” he asks. 

Encased by his warm body with his voice deep and his breath hot against your ear the only sound you can produce is a moan. Terzo pulls at your panties, pushing them down to your knees until he can line himself up from behind. His cock is already hard, like the mere sight of you pleasing yourself was enough to have him ready for you.

“Oh amore, not even the most vicious storm could keep me from you.” He pushes inside with a grunt, the tip of his cock sliding along your inner walls just so. “N-not even the most biblical of catastrophes.” Another inch, a slow, shallow roll of his hips. “No flood, no thunder, n-no hurricane.” He pulls back, then fills you up with one sharp thrust. “Not even Death himself.”

You keen, uselessly grabbing at the sheets. Terzo’s hand shoots up to grab your chin, angling it towards his mouth.

“Do you understand?” 

You nod as best as you can. His fingers dig into your jaw a little more tightly to keep it still. Words. “Yes, Papa.”

A soft kiss to your cheek. “Brava ragazza. Now I will show you what you almost missed.”

He rolls his hips again, letting go of your head to grab your thigh and use it for leverage. His pace picks up as he begins to fuck you, deep and precise thrusts that fill your whole body with pleasure. His own grunts echo in the quiet around you, intermingling with your desperate moans and whimpers.

“Did you think of me all day, bella?” he teases, slowing down as he rubs his nose along your shoulders. “Were you so desperate to have me that you couldn’t go to sleep without touching that sweet little pussy?”

You nod desperately, so fast your head bumps against his jaw.

“Words,” Terzo warns. “Tell your Papa how much you wanted him.”

“I wanted you all day,” you admit, squirming in his hold. “Thought about you in every meeting, even the one with Sister.”

You can feel him grinning against your shoulder blade before he gently bites the tender skin above. Still, he isn’t moving any faster, only gives you these slow, languid thrusts that drive you wild. Impatiently, you push back against him, fucking yourself against his cock, and his initial moan quickly turns into a distorted growl. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your hips before he loses his patience. With one swift roll he has you on your belly, teeth still stuck in your shoulder as he drives himself into you from behind again and again. Your cries are muffled by the pillow and the new angle brings you close to the edge within seconds. You can feel him so deep inside of you, his whole body weighing you down until all you can focus on is the heat in your lower belly. 

Terzo pushes his hand back between your bodies, leaning heavily on his other arm, and he hardly grazes your clit before you spasm around him. He groans when he feels you tightening, the orgasm a heavy crash of pleasure and relief. Terzo’s rhythm falters when he follows you, rolling his hips a few more times until he curses under his breath and eventually stills. His hair falls into his face until you can feel it tickling the skin of your neck and shoulder, all while his cock empties inside of you.

With two more lazy thrusts he prolongs both of your pleasure, fucking his come deeper into you while your body goes limp underneath him. He inhales sharply, humming against your ear before he pulls you both back onto your sides. His lips leave a soft trail of kisses over the bite on your shoulder, then up your neck until he can reach your jaw.

“Better than your hands, amore, hm?” he teases as his arms wrap tightly around you again.

You lean into his embrace, content and happy. “So much better.”

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

[quaildoodle]

The fallen king

[honey-tongued-devil]

Sinners' tango

| Twitter | Instagram | Ao3 | Redbubble |

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.

[angellayercake]

You know you have it bad when you start fantasizing about the silliest softest things imaginable.

Travelling alone is an absolute nightmare on your skin, let alone wearing and sweating in the thick paints every night. Using only horrible hotel room water and cheap soap to wash it off and he is from a generation of men that do not know what moisturiser is.

One day you get tired of seeing him rub at his face with a soapy wash cloth so you take matters into your own hands. You confiscate his usual products and send him into his post ritual shower with a foamy cleanser with careful instructions to only use his hands.

He grumbles when he is finished the stubborn black paint still covering his face but you shush him as you wrap him in the fluffy complimentary robe and sit him in front of you at the mirror. He spares you one last glare before he closes his eyes at your request and lets you get to work.

You begin with a cleansing balm, melting away the remnants of his paint until there are no traces left even in the most stubborn areas. His thick eyebrows, the corners of his eyes and his jawline. He is starting to relax under your hands already, his shoulders relaxing and his brow smoothing at least as much as it can. There are some lines so deep that no amount of relaxation will smooth away but you love him all the more for them.

You wipe the product away with damp cotton pads until his face is clean and clear and as reluctant as he is to admit it this already feels much better than his usual routine as you generously called it. You explain what you are doing as you continue through the next steps. Gentle acidic exfoliation focusing just on the dryer patches that form at the corners of his lips and between his eyebrows.

He had scoffed when you had first explained the products you had chosen but as you apply each layer he begins to feel the deep hydration you are working into his skin. The usual stiff tightness he ignores as he collapses in his bed never even starts as you pat toner into his skin and he can't help the range of expressions he pulls in the mirror without feeling that familiar uncomfortable pull.

You encourage his eyes closed again so you can smooth some light cream over his eyelids, the delicate skin especially abused by his thick black paint and vigorous scrubbing to remove it. Then a thicker balm for his lips though you suspect this is one product he is more than familiar with. You were well acquainted with his soft lips and the fact that they were never ever chapped.

Finally you apply the moisturizer, working it everywhere you can reach, soothing the tension in his temples and jaw, sweeping across his cheekbones and forehead and working down his chin to his neck until every bit of product has been absorbed.

You settle your hands over his chest feeling his slow steady heartbeat and watch as his eyes flutter open, lost as he was in your gentle treatment of him. His face is glowing but not only from the lotions and potions but from his satisfaction. You have shared something with him that may seem small or insignificant but that shows you care for him in a way very few people have before.

He presses his hands to his face marveling at how soft it feels and accuses you of working some kind of magic and demands you explain to him exactly what you did to make him feel so good. You swat at his chest playfully. You had been explaining all along if he had bothered to listen but he takes your hands in his, kissing your palms and explaining how he couldn't have concentrated on anything but your talented fingers.

He gives you that look you can never resist and smiles when you go all the way back to the beginning, listening intently as you explain but only relinquishing one of your hands for your demonstration. You would go through it all a thousand times if I made him as happy as he looks in this moment.

[lilspacewolfie]

Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

He will anyway. 

Chronic worrier, especially given his age. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits. 

You can squeeze his hand if you want. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fluids are important (wink-wonk).

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

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

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

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

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

He’s a big, brooding mother hen. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tries his best to make you feel relaxed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will linger outside the door in case you need anything. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terzo. Oh, Terzo. 

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

Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you go in he’s pacing the halls.

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

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

Let him touch you. Just let him. 

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

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

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

Maybe he’ll hum some songs too. 

You’re his everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away. 

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

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

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

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

Paces a lot. 

Good luck getting him to sit still. 

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

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

Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.  

He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles. 

All that stress tires him out. 

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

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

You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.

The angle is a bit awkward. 

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

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

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

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

Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breakfast in bed when you wake up.

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

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

He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong. 

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

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

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

Inwardly it's chaos. 

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

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

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

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

So. Many. Kisses. 

This man loves kissing you. He adores you so. 

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

Finally lets himself cry. 

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

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

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

Eventually relents because you both know you need this. 

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

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

You both sleep like the dead.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[leezlelatch]

What I Was Made For

Terzo x F! Reader - Comfort, skin to skin, love confessions. Sometimes you just need your Papa.

Terzo’s chasuble falls off his body in a rush of satin, pooling at his feet. His gloves come off in equal measure, tossed to the floor carelessly. He removes each layer of clothing with hurried hands, stopping only when he’s standing before you in nothing but his underwear. He slides into the seat next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm grip as he drags you across the leather couch. You don’t say anything as his hands lift your shirt and usher you out of your leggings, joining them in a heap on the floor next to his papal vestments. 

“Terzo,” you finally break, your voice small, and he shushes you. A long finger slides beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, even the white one like liquid as he regards you with a concerned and adoring smile. 

“I am here, piccolina,” he whispers, bringing your hands flat against the expanse of his chest to feel his heart beat steadily against your palms. “Do you feel me? I am here. I am here with you.” He continues to murmur this as he pulls you into a more comfortable position, cradling your head lovingly into the juncture of his neck as he reclines on the couch. “Feel my skin against yours. And breathe, mio dolce amore.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. He smells like caramel. He smells like your favorite candle. He smells like a warm pie baked in the chill of fall. He smells like home. You turn your nose into his skin and nuzzle against it, and Terzo almost coos, a sweet noise leaving his lips followed by a small chuckle. A chuckle of near disbelief as he pulls you closer. 

“Ah, what you do to me, eh? Make your Papa such a mess! I thought that was my job,” he squeezes you to him for a moment. “I will have to try harder, si?” He’s smiling, a contentment to his voice that you don’t think you have ever heard before. 

“You fluster me,” you murmur into his skin.

“Hmm? What was that?” He teases. “Speak up. Your Papa has a hard time hearing over his bravado, you see.” That makes you laugh, your body shaking on top of his. Terzo laughs with you, deep and joyful, and relieved. “There you are. Come along now, dolce.”

“I said, ‘you fluster me’,” you say a little louder, turning to hide your burning cheeks in the crook of his neck. You feel the brush of his lips upon your forehead and you grow quiet, sucking in a short and shaky breath. 

“Thank Satan,” he whispers, lips fluttering against your skin. “I was worried you were falling too close to the edge, and I could not catch you. My only choice, you see, is to fall with you.”

“I don’t want you to fall, Terzo,” your voice is quiet, sad. Your fingers draw through his chest hair, expression thoughtful as you rest skin to skin against him. His fingers copy your movements through your hair, his right hand sliding down to glide a gentle thumb across your cheek. 

“But that is the beauty of our love, is it not? We are clumsy together. We fall. And then we kiss each other’s bruises. They hurt a little less each day. Turn from black to yellow. And then they’re gone. Perhaps we shall look back on them, but they won’t hurt anymore. We will just remember the kiss,” his accented voice, melodic and warm, washes over you like a blanket. 

You start to sit up, Terzo following you, his fingers grasping at your skin. He is nearly desperate for you to understand. To help you through whatever melancholy is stuck to your precious heart. There are many things Terzo would admit to failing at in his lifetime. This would not be one of them. 

“Let me kiss them, amore. Please,” he begs softly, hands at your waist, massaging the soft skin there. “With you is where I am safest. Let me be safe for you.” 

The face of the former antipope in front of you is bare of makeup, his brow furrowed, the divot between his brows deepening every day. Crow's feet stretch from the outer corner of his eyes, marking a path of laughter across his face. Silver cuts through dyed black hair. He is the most beautiful man that you have ever seen. 

“I love you,” you tell him. Honest and hopeful and raw.

Terzo hands are on you, pulling you firmly back into his lap, wrapping arms and legs around you until any outside viewer wouldn’t know where you ended and he began. He’s heaving great breaths, bordering on a sob as he holds you so tightly against his flesh. 

“I love you. I love you. Satana, grazie per questa benedizione. Grazie, grazie,” he whispers fervently, pressing kiss after kiss against your temple, your cheeks, any inch of you he can reach. It has you giggling, and then he laughs too, and you’re both smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. 

“I don’t even remember what I was sad about,” you finally say, looking into his eyes, your lips mere inches of his. Terzo smiles, softer now, sweeter. 

“Exactly,” he whispers.

[dantesunbreaker]

Napping with the Papas(Headcanons)

Mildly suggestive for Terzo, but otherwise is SFW

Primo

As the eldest of the Emeritus brothers, he is no stranger to the need for a midday nap

In fact, his schedule usually has “nap time” penciled in most days in the afternoon

So when you come to him shyly asking if you could nap together he is quick to reassure you there is nothing to be shy about, he would love nothing more than to have a nice relaxing nap with you

Enveloping you in one of the large sleeves of his chasuble, Primo escorts you to somewhere more quiet and secluded, somewhere comfortable

Sometimes it is in his chambers, a proper nap where you lie together beneath the blankets, limbs tangled and intertwined 

Other times it is in his office, curled up on the loveseat there, you resting back against his chest as he hold you in arms, chasuble acting as a blanket over the both of you

There have even been a few occasions in his gardens, both you relaxing on the bench feeding the birds, only to both unexpectedly doze off under the warmth of the sun

Each time is always filled with soft and loving kisses, sweet embraces that more than speak of the love you two share together

Sometimes, Primo will be the one to approach you, two cups of tea in hand with hopes for sharing a quiet nap together, whether it be due to his own need or his sense that you are working yourself to hard and refuse to admit your own need

Secondo

Good luck every getting him to admit it, but Secondo is excited whenever you come asking for him to join you for a nap

A relaxing break in the afternoon would be exactly what he needed, but refused to ever allow himself because that would admit to finally feeling his age

No matter what he is working on, Secondo will pause his work and softly lead you to his bedroom

But a nap with Secondo is never some quick rushed activity, he always gives you the full experience

Starts by having both of you undress and change into more suitable attire before climbing into the bed, and from there he gives you the most thorough massage

Once you are putty in his hands, he moves you both the rest comfortably under the sheets with you pulled to rest your head on his chest

You both fall asleep with you listening to the steady beat of his heart

Never sets an alarm, but somehow Secondo times it almost perfectly, waking you both from your nap after 30 minutes exactly, or an hour depending on how long of a day it’s been

Helps you redress and you walk together back to his office, parting with a soft parting kiss and plans to spend the night similarly after dinner

Terzo

Understandably, Terzo seems to misread the situation when he gets a text from you saying “Come lay in bed with me.”

Doesn’t matter if his working, playing UNO with his brothers, or talking with Omega, he is immediately dashing for your bedroom

The moment he is inside, Terzo is covering you in hungry kisses as he climbs onto the bed

You have to practically shove him off you just for enough pause to explain that isn’t what you had in mind, that you actually were just tired and were missing his company

Seems to deflate a bit, but just for a brief moment!

Because then he is immediately smothering you with kisses again, though this time softer and more loving instead of lust filled

Of course he will nap with you! Anything for his amore!

Shuffles under the covers with you and pulls you tight against his chest, holding you so you practically are lying on top of him

While most times, he won’t be tired enough to fall asleep himself, Terzo is content to lie there and simply run his fingers through your hair

Softly will sing some of his songs until your breathing slows as you succumb to slumber

Copia

Of course! You don’t have to ask Copia twice!

Sometimes it takes a bit more coaxing to get him to leave his work, but the moment you give a squeeze to his tense shoulders he always concedes

More often than not, the nap is entirely for Copia’s benefit

You can see how hard he works himself and know that he often isn’t getting enough sleep

It is you that pulls him back to his chambers, stripping him down from his many layer until just in his pants, shirt, and socks

He will drop into the bed, barely able to pull himself up to the pillows as he watches you pull back the blankets to lay beside him

Will be the one resting his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his soft graying hair as you slowly drift to sleep

You always wake up first, Copia curled up to your side and holding you possessively against him

Unless you know he has important matters that need attending, you will let him sleep as long as he wants as you hold him in your arms and admire him

The sweet soft look on Copia’s face as his eyes flutter open, looking up at you with the most innocent look of admiration makes it all so worth it

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons! 💋🫂

Day 13 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**RATED PG-13, borderline NSFW**

My headcanons of making out and cuddling with the Papas

Primo

Talks very sweetly; lots of cute but old-fashioned pet names

Lets you rest your head on his chest

Doesn’t use tongue unless you initiate

Big spoon, holds you gently

Serene for the most part, but abruptly interrupted by his coughing fits ):

Always falls asleep before you, usually mid-kiss or mid-cuddle

Secondo

Holds your head very firmly in his hands while kissing you

Slips in tongue

Plants kisses on your neck

Takes control but wants to be on the bottom while cuddling so you’re laying on his chest otherwise he’s big spoon

Holds you protectively, rubs your back soothingly and runs his hands through your hair

Gives massages

Terzo

Sticks his tongue down your throat and goes straight to your pants but complies when you ask just for kisses and cuddles

Presses his body against yours

You can always feel his erection through his pants, purposefully on his part

Kisses like he hasn’t seen you in years

His phone keeps going off

He doesn’t care if he’s big or little spoon

Leaves hickeys and bite marks

Cardinal Copia

Nervous and sweaty

His mustache tickles your face

You can always feel his erection through his pants, accidentally on his part

Usually one of his rats will crawl on you if you stay still too long while cuddling

Wraps all his limbs around you while snuggling as if he’s afraid you’ll fall off the bed or escape

Likes to be little spoon

Popia

Starts with a sweet little peck on your cheek

Usually ends with his hands around your waist and feeling you up, but it’s a slow build up to that

Holds your chin in his hand and kisses your nose

Tells you what his every next move is so you know what to expect

Tells you about his day/asks you about yours

Adjusts his position if he senses you are uncomfy or smushed

Nihil (for shits and giggles)

Sneezes and sharts himself

You run away because it smells

[dearlymrme]

I’ll Kama Your Sutra (Papa Emeritus x Reader)

Summary: The boy’s favorite sex positions with you.

Primo x Reader || Secondo x Reader || Terzo x Reader || Copia x Reader || Vaginal Sex || Rough Sex || Quickie || Consensual Somnophilia || Poorly Translated Italian || WC: 2525

Primo

Spooning

You wake swaddled in warmth and wet, mostly between your legs. In that milky white space between dream and reality, you feel a gust of hot air blow against the back of your neck followed by the gentle pressure of lips. You groan as you feel heat strike at your core. The throb between your legs is likely what woke you up. That and the fingers Primo has buried and your sopping cunt.

“Did I wake you, mia stella?” Your husband asks softly, pressed up behind you. His other arm gently wrapped around you and cupped a handful of your breast. It's easy for him to pull you tighter against him. “Sorry, I could not help myself.” He gives the back of your neck another kiss as his fingers stretch at your entrance.

“You looked so soft and pliant. So innocent…” He had gotten up for a glass of water but was stopped in his tracks by the soft moonlight from the window that had caught your face. It practically made you glow, and you looked so beautiful and so easy to take advantage of.

His chuckle erupts deep from his chest and you shudder as his thumb swipes against your clit, expertly from years of practice.

“Even though it only takes just a few strokes of my fingers to turn you into a slut.”

You groan and slightly push your pelvis back against his and feel him hard against your lower back.

“Primo.” You say his name once with urgency, and the man groans against your neck before removing his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. You lift your leg and shudder as he slicks his cock with your juices, fumbles with the head, before sheathing himself in two long strokes.

You both give throaty groans from pleasure before a soft and even paced rocking motion was applied.

"Your back…" You breathlessly moan in concern for his sore spine, but with a click of his tongue and another kiss pressed to your neck, it's quickly forgotten about.

"Don't worry about it." He angles his hips, and a high pitch keen erupts from your lips as he slides oh so wonderfully against the bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars behind your closed eyes.

"Just come for me, stella." He growls roughly in your ear before cupping you by the chin and turning your head just enough for him to capture your lips in a messy kiss.

You tangle your tongue lazily with his, still on the cusp of sleep and the featherlight buzz in your lower stomach, the heat of your lover’s embrace, and the steady rocking of your conjoined bodies, it quickly brings you to release as your body locks up in contractions.

Primo groans and gives a few more tenacious rocks of his hips before you feel his dick jumping inside you. You place your hand on your lower belly and rub, and maybe it's the sleep causing you to imagine things but you could swear you actually feel his hot cum warming you from the inside.

"Augh." You hear him give a pained groan and shift to get his cock to slip out. You rub at your eyes as you turn over to get out of bed and retrieve a hot water bottle, immediately more awake at the sound of his discomfort.

"I told you so." You teased with a yawn.

Primo exhales a chuckle through his nose and turns to lay on his back with a wince.

"You're always worth it, stella."

Secondo

Mating Press

You toss and turn in frustration, hands gripping his arms hard enough to bruise and nails dug in deep enough to bleed. But you're trapped. There is no way out and nothing for you to do but take what he has to give. Your knees are pressed up to your chest, hooked over his arms, and held in place. His arms are up and over your back, hands dug into your shoulders and keeping you in place. Savagely thrusting after thrust into your wet hole as he bares his teeth at you and growls like he does on stage, like an animal.

“Fu-fuck!” Your croak, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had done so far.

“Se-secondo!” You gasp for air like a fish out of water as he gives you absolutely no chance to catch your breath, just over and over. Your body’s slide together, slick with sweat, and shared heat, turning the temperature up to a nearly uncomfortable level. You feel lightheaded from it all, your body singing as his strong assault of your pussy sends vibrations of pleasure throughout your core, steadily crawling and coiling into your lower belly.

“That’s right. Say my name, dolcezza.” He growls, nearly as breathless as you are. His grunts loudly echoing through the room with your weak gasps for air as he drives his cock mercilessly into you. “Only I can make you feel this way. Chi possiede questa figa?” He then stops his thrusts to roll and slide right up against your g-spot with expert precision.

“Hmm? Who?” He grunts, and his rolls don’t last for long. Your heat too much, your body too demanding for more. He quickly goes back into ravaging you like a strike of lightning.

“Y-You!” You shriek, and his roar is ripped from his chest at the statement before he’s rolling forward again to reach and drag your tongue out to play with his. His lower stomach begins to jump with each thrust, and he’s getting close, just as he knows you are.

“Questo cazzo ti appartiene altrettanto.” He mutters against your lips and sucks your bottom lip like a drop of sweet candy, lapping it gently with his tongue and smiling at how red and swollen he has made it.

“Go on, dolcezza. Pinch that fucking clit. I want to feel you come.” At his demand your hand reaches down between your bodies to roll over that sensitive bundle of nerves. You rub furiously at the engorged bud and Secondo groans as your walls get tight and hotter around him. You climax is not sudden but it still rips through you like an earthquake, causing your entire body to lock and mouth open with a scream as Secondo fucks you through it.

He’s even faster now, chasing after his release like a madman. As your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head from his frantic pace and relentless assault on your quim, he pants through the marathon like an Olympic racer and finally.

Finally, his hips stutter, and he slams hard into you, his hands forcing you down with his finale thrusts. You wince at the force in what will clearly be a pelvic bruise tomorrow, but the aftershocks of your climax quickly do away with the worry.

Secondo breathes, his tense muscles finally relaxing into the molten looseness that comes with an orgasm and he shifts in place but keeps your legs lifted, you hips just slightly off the bed, giving his seed that extra leverage to faster reach your womb.

When he feels as though long enough time has passed, he releases you from his pin and lets you lower your legs around his hips.

He smirks at you and your red face before lowering himself to lay beside you and gathers you in his arms.

He reaches over to the bedside table to retrieve a water bottle and hands it to you before kissing you on your temple.

"Think it'll take this time?" He curiously asks over the crinkle of plastic as you drown down the bottle in less than a handful of seconds.

You gasped for air before slowly wiping your mouth and resting your head in the crook of his neck.

"You know what they say. If at first you don't succeed…"

And the two of you will try as many times as it takes.

Terzo

Ballet Dancer

The lewd slaps of his balls meeting your wet cunt fills the small closet. You give a growl of frustration as he nearly purposely avoids that spot that has your toes curling and you lower your head to bite at his collar. Terzo hisses before giving a bark of laughter. You quickly reach up and slap a hand over his mouth.

“Quiet!” You hiss behind your bared teeth, and his eyes crinkle in what would be a charming smile. Then, to be an asshole he moans loudly into your hand before swiping his tongue across your palm. You roll your eyes and adjust your leg over his thigh before he sinks home into that spongy gland inside of you, and now you're the one making the noise.

He had cornered you in the hall in his papal robes and immaculate paint, clearly just finished getting ready for the day but as soon as he saw you he was grabbing you by the waist and sequestering you away to the nearest empty room, painting your neck and lips with black kiss marks as he ground his cock into you.

“Please? You know a quick fuck always makes the meetings more bearable.” It didn’t take much convincing to have your panties down to your ankles and your leg swung over his hip, his hands cupping your ass and you holding his arm to help support you as he pistons his dick in and out at a furious enough pace to have you gasping for breath.

Terzo ignores the snap of a fallen broom as it hits the floor, too fixated on your glorious heat as your cunt strangles his cock like a hot constrictor. The spine tingling pleasure is starting to build up like a coil in his cock and it won’t be too much longer now.

You reach up to cup Terzo by his face and pull him into a ferocious kiss. He breathes through his nose, attacking your tongue with a manic frenzy and breaking the kiss with a small bridge of spit. He snaps the connection by giving you a feral grin and readjusting his hold on you before he dips his hips low, arching at his lower back, and then he’s striking your core with every thrust.

“Fuck! T-Terzo.” You stutter, your thigh beginning to shake and your single supporting leg starting to jiggle from the onslaught of pleasure. He devilishly grins at your red face, at the small trail of drool beading down the side of your mouth, at the black lipstick he’s covered your lips and collar with.

“Come on, principessa.” He goads, rolling his ‘r’ like he’s rolling his hips. “I’m close. A-Are you close? Are you going to come for me?” You nod your head, so blissed out that you're not even sure what you're agreeing to anymore. You just want more as you’re coming to the end. Terzo licks up your spit before giving you another heated kiss, sucking on your lip before biting hard enough to draw blood.

That small snap of pain combined with molten pleasure is what does it for you. You clench down like a vice and dig your nails into his shoulders, nearly ripping his ceremonious outfit. His legs are the ones to buckle as he gives a few more good thrusts before reaching nirvana and sliding down to the ground, bringing you with him.

“Good. Damn good.” He pants against your chin and rides the aftershocks of his climax. He stares at you, taking in your wrecked appearance.

Your hair is messy from when his seeking fingers thread through it. Your eyes are glazed and half closed in pleasure. Your mouth shaped in a perfect ‘o’ and your cheeks stained with ruddy tears. The sight of your sex devastated body his his dick spring as your walls strangles that last drop of cum from his loins.

The meeting is sure to go by quickly now with his bones turned to jelly and the afterglow of a good fuck in his system. He’s not going to be able to pay a single bit of attention though. No, he’s going to be more focused on how to better make you scream once after the meeting is over.

Copia

Cowgirl

“S-Shit…Copia!” You moan as his hands go down to cup your thighs and help you to further spread your legs. Your thighs themselves burn from exertion but it’s too damn good to stop.

“Lift up just a little, cuore mia.” Copia pants against your chest before your shaking legs lift off.

“That’s right, just hover.” He advises and you bite your lip as his thrusting turn to grinds. He lifts you up against him, your soft breasts pressed against his chest. Your stomach trembles against his. Your hot sweaty skin slid against his body and his hips bucked up.

“Hold on.” He smirks and you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning more forward against him to take some of the weight off your thighs. He slouches further back against the couch and spreads his own legs to brace before-...

“Fuck!” It’s savagely ripped from your throat as his hips begin to jack-knife into you at a frightening pace. Faster than you could have ever ridden him on your own. The hot wet sounds of your love echoing through the room in slaps so wet it was nearly embarrassing. The noise only made you hotter and your toes curled.

The subtle hot fluttering around his cock tells him you’ve come, your mouth opened in a silent scream against his jaw as your nails dug into his neck. The pace he sets is relentless. Your arms around him are nearly suffocating if he wasn’t already choking on the pleasure. He can practically feel his heart throbbing in his cock as the black creeps at the edge of his vision while he fucked as hard and fast as he can.

His head goes light before he takes a gasp of air, swallowing as much oxygen as he could and slams you down atop his dick, trying to get as deep as possible. His legs shake from the stimulation as he sets his feet flat to the floor and gives a few final good thrusts, his dick pulsates inside of you with each jet of release.

You wait in the afterglow with him as you both try to regain your breath from one of the best fucks to date and then the burning of your thighs starts to return. You slide off of him with a satisfied groan and make a face as you feel his cum wetly spill out of you from the action, likely staining the couch or carpet, or both.

“Don’t worry about it.” Copia mutters dumbly, sufficiently fucked himself stupid and still light headed, he places a weak open mouth kiss to your chin. “Let’s get more comfortable.” You nod and stand on trembling legs, feeling very weak in the knees and hold out your hand to him.

He takes it and makes the attempt to stand but fails as his legs wobble and give out from under him, planting him back on the couch.

“On second thought, why don’t we nap here?”

~*~*~

Translations:

 Chi possiede questa figa? Who owns this pussy?

Questo cazzo ti appartiene altrettanto. This dick belongs to you just as much.

[writingjourney]

soft, sleepy sex with the papas

summary: Four short-ish scenarios, one for each Papa, in which you get to do some crossword-solving with Primo, come home after a night-out with Secondo, wake up with Terzo or watch a movie with Copia.

content: 4.8k words in total (each is 1k-1.4k words), f!readers, sort of established relationships, dom/sub undertones if you squint, obviously these contain smut, more detailed warnings in each part, 18+ MDNI

Masterlist – Ao3 link

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Primo 

content: p in v because peepaw can still get it

Half-asleep on Primo’s bare chest, you draw lazy patterns into the fuzzy hair on his left pec, your palm resting just above his steady heartbeat. He keeps one arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding a weathered little book that is open on a half-done crossword puzzle, while his other hand slowly fills in the empty squares. It’s Italian, so you gave up trying to help him a while ago, dozing to the sound of graphite scratching on paper.

But you know you won’t sleep yet. There is a gentle but very persistent simmer in the pit of your stomach. You’ve wanted your Papa all day but when he got home earlier, tired and irritable after an argument with Sister, you hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now, after a light dinner and some restful time with you curled up against him, he seems a lot calmer.

Inhaling his slightly herbal scent, you decide to at least try – he’s going to let you know if he’s not up for it. A kiss to his wrinkly neck and your fingers start trailing from his chest down to his belly. Slow circles with your index and middle finger,  caressing the saggy skin with as much affection as you can pour into such a delicate touch.

You feel him stir, so you move your hand further down, stroking his abdomen. A soft hum deep inside his chest. His hand sinks, the pencil slipping from his fingers. It’s your cue to keep going, so you toy with the hem of his pajama pants. When you let your hand slip beneath the elastic, you’re excited to find him half-hard, curved against the left side of his pelvis.

He’d been struggling with intimacy as of late – his age, all the hard work and general worries catching up with him, a sort of vicious cycle that led to some changes in your shared bedroom. He takes care of you in other ways, very generously, but tonight, for once, he seems truly relaxed, and you feel him slowly harden against your palm.

“Do you feel good?” you whisper. “Should I keep going?”

“Mhm.”

You stamp wet kisses down his neck, sucking on the spot that always makes him shudder. You continue to slowly stroke him, a leisurely pace, until he’s fully hard and leaking onto your fingers.

“I thought you are tired,” he murmurs.

You smile. “I am, but I just miss you so much.”

“I’m right here, la mia rosa. Every night.”

More kisses. You softly suck on the spot below his jaw, and his hips buck up into your touch. “You know what I mean, Papa.”

Primo draws a sharp breath, the arm he had wrapped around you slowly uncurling as he throws the book across the bed. His hand moves to your ass, a tight squeeze and he urges you to move closer. You crawl on top of him, hot, liquid excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of finally having him inside of you again.

With one hand, you prop yourself up on his chest while you move your sleeping shorts out of the way with the other. You settle on his cock, rubbing your wet folds over his length and slicking it with your arousal. You grind on him a few times and you both gasp at the feeling. His hands fly to your hips, sharp fingernails digging deeper into your flesh when you finally place him at your entrance. He slips inside, the stretch immensely rewarding after going without it for so long, and despite the sleepiness still clinging to you, you try your best to move on him. Limited energy has you resting your upper body on his, chest against chest, only separated by your shirt. You lean in for a kiss as you slowly roll your hips. The pace you’re setting with your mouth as well as your body is slow, almost sluggish, but even so you can feel the ripples of pleasure all over your body.

“Amore?” Primo whispers against your lips and you hum into his mouth. “I missed you, too.”

And then he’s suddenly thrusting up into you. You moan against his tongue and he does it again, chuckling as you keen and cling to the headboard. A shudder tears through your whole body and your mouth slips from his, your face slotting against his neck instead when he gives another thrust.

Primo wraps his arms around you in a hug. “You’re tired, let me do the rest.”

You want to protest, remind him of his back issues and the pain he’d felt in his hip joint all week, but he’s already rolling you over. He knows you wouldn’t have been able to cum from your slow movements alone and he also knows you wouldn’t have minded, but he always tells you that making you cum is the highest form of worship for him. And Primo loves to worship.

As soon as he’s on top of you he shifts into position, propped up on his elbows on either side of you pushing back into your dripping entrance very slowly. You hold him steady, arms wrapped around his shoulder to try and keep him for overexerting himself. His rhythm isn’t much faster than yours, but his movements are more deliberate – precise thrusts hitting you exactly where you need him. Already you clench around him, moaning as more pleasure pools into your lower belly. 

Primo is breathing heavily and the frequency of his pants tells you he’s close.

“Touch yourself for your Papa, amore,” he whispers. 

You move your hands between your bodies and start to rub your clit. It doesn’t take much until you completely let go. You come almost simultaneously, moaning into each others skin as your bodies tremble with pleasure. You can feel his hot seed dripping out of you when he shifts, a sharp hiss as you eventually untangle your limbs.

Primo slowly, carefully, rolls off of you, sinking back into his pillow with a low, pained hmpf. You lean over and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but he’s already waving his hand to stop you, a delighted sigh leaving his lips as his body relaxes. You snuggle back into him, kissing the hot, sweaty skin on his cheek. This has exhausted him but the blissful expression on his usually so grim face tells you he won’t regret it no matter how much his joints are going to hurt tomorrow. 

“I love you, la mia rosa,” he mumbles into your hair. “Thank you for reminding your Papa that you still desire him so.”

“Hm, I love you, too,” you mumble, already drifting off.

The last thing you hear is his chuckle and the click of the switch as he turns off the light.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Secondo

content: biting, praise, v fingering, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones if you squint

The smell of smoke, sweat and liquor still lingers in your nose, now accompanied by the sweet and woody scent of Secondo’s sandalwood shower gel. The club had been packed, despite it’s exclusivity, and after a night of dancing and being pushed around by other bodies, you’re ready to fall asleep with his heavy arms draped around you. After all of the noise and the heavy, blasting music, you welcome the soft quiet of his bedroom, the dull buzzing of his toothbrush and your own even breathing the only sounds in your ears.

When Secondo exits the bathroom, the open door casts a narrow ray of fluorescent light onto your half-sleeping form. He quickly flips the switch and closes the door as quietly as he can. In the near-dark, he observes the silhouette of your body, all the curves and lines and edges he’s grown to love so much. You haven’t been sleeping in this bed for very long – it’s only been a few weeks since he decided he won’t let you leave again. Now, as he sheds his bathrobe and crawls under the silky sheets to join you, he thinks that it was probably the best decision of his life.

You can feel his naked body settling against your back, the warmth of his soft skin drawing a sigh from your lips. His strong arm wraps around you, pushing under your armpit to press flat against your front, pulling you even closer. As his hand moves to gently cup your breast, you can feel a tired exhale against your neck.

“As much as I love going out with you,” he murmurs. “This is my favorite.”

His lips softly press to the velvet skin below your ear. A few slow but needy kisses leave a wet trail all over your neck, his hand squeezing your breast in tandem with each one.

“You looked so beautiful tonight, amore.” Another kiss, this time to the back of your neck, and a shiver rolls down your spine. “Everyone in the club envied me.”

You chuckle softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him more space. “I’m pretty sure they were staring at you, my love.”

“Ah, che sciocchezza!” His lips attach to your skin, sucking gently at first, then with more force. You indulge him, the stinging sensation barely registering with your exhaustion as he bites into your flesh. He keeps busy there until you whimper at the burning sensation.

But Secondo knows he is right and it’s the reason why you have this big purple bruise blossoming on your neck right now. He is nothing but attentive, observant, and it gives him great confidence to watch other people admire you, then flinch away when they notice that you’re with him. He loves to subtly show you off – until someone actually tries to chat you up like today. It’s always the same, a sudden surge of need to show everyone that you’re his and he’s all over you, the public setting quickly forgotten. Secondo almost fucked you right there on the dance floor, not unprecedented, but after someone repeatedly rammed their elbow into his side he decided that it was too busy tonight.

But it’s okay because by now the high wore off, leaving him only mildly horny and mostly sleepy just like you. He thinks he wants to be gentle now, slowly fuck you both to sleep.

His lips come off your neck with a wet pop. He pushes his other arm underneath you, fingers searching the heat between your legs, but when he lets his hand slide down your middle, he’s met with the fabric of your panties.

“Ah.” He tsks softly into your ear, pulling them down slightly. “Since when do we wear clothes to bed, eh?”

You groan tiredly but don’t object, lifting your leg to help him remove the piece of fabric. Soft fingers slide between your legs now, pressing against your mound. He’s tentative, sensual, wet lips running over your neck and up to your ear.

“Will you let me have you, amore?” he whispers. “You know your Papa wanted you all night.”

You wake up your voice with a soft hum. “Yes, Papa.”

“You’re so good for me, always so good.”

More kisses, this time to the shell of your ear, your earlobe, your cheek. You smell his minty toothpaste and turn your head for a proper kiss. His free hand moves to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing into your neck to adjust the angle. The kiss is languid just like his fingers working on your clit now. A soft whine escapes you and his tongue sweeps inside to meet yours in a gentle greeting. Your mind gets hazy with his taste, the soft ripples of pleasure in your core, his now hard cock pressing into your back. You want him, need him, and so you wriggle, pushing your ass into his groin. He accommodates you by sliding two fingers into your wet entrance, increasing the pressure.

“Secondo, please,” you whimper.

“Ah.” He stops altogether, pulling back to look at you with intense mismatched eyes. “Being tired is no excuse for misbehaving.”

“I’m sorry, Papa. Please.”

“Mhm.” His movements resume. “Brava ragazza. So tired and still you beg for your Papa’s cock.”

Your head falls back into the pillows as Secondo shifts, removing his hands to adjust your hips, slotting them together. His cock slips between your legs then and you moan softly when you feel it slide right against your folds. He slowly pushes in, using his free hand on your belly to keep you pressed tightly to his chest, the other one lifting your leg up just enough so he can move inside of you. The stretch is beautifully slow, his mouth back on your ear now, and you reach over to scratch the back of his neck.

He hums at your loving caress, a low rumble that gives you butterflies, and then he pulls back, pushing back in deeper. You close your eyes and revel in the gentle rhythm he sets. For a while, all you hear are your soft gasps, his low moans right by your ear and the sound of his skin meeting yours. Your orgasm builds slowly but you can both feel it approaching, Secondo spreading out his fingers on your abdomen until he can reach your clit again. He speeds up just slightly, squelching noises filling your ears whenever his cock slides in to hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. His own breaths are ragged now but he’s holding back until he gets you there first, always.

“Come for your Papa,” he whispers against your ear with surprising softness. “Be good for me and come on Papa’s cock.”

You do, clenching around him as his words send you over the edge with a voiceless cry. He joins you, growling, hips stuttering into yours a few more times as he draws out both of your highs. Your exhausted body goes limp, only shuddering again when he eventually pulls out. 

A soft exhale as he wraps you up in his arms, his sweaty chest warm against your back. You vaguely feel his thumb caressing your arm, the gentle pattern lulling you to sleep. Neither of you is going to move again before the sun rises and the birdsong inevitably wakes you.

“Sleep well, amore,” Secondo whispers, kissing the purple bruise on your neck one more time.

You sigh deeply, weaving your fingers through his, and slowly drift off.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Terzo

content: cunnilingus, v fingering, mentions of mental health issues

A tickle at your neck. You stir and scrunch up your face, shifting onto your side to get away. It’s adorable, Terzo thinks, so he does it again, a featherlight kiss just below your ear. You twitch slightly once more, the duvet slipping from your shoulder and revealing your bare upper body to him. Half-hovering above you, it’s easy to press yet another kiss to your neck and watch your irritated pout, eyebrows pulled tightly together. Your hand flexes then, and he’s almost sure you’re going to swat him away like a fly but your fingers uncurl after a second, smoothing out on the mattress.

Waking up with you in his bed makes him unnecessarily giddy, weightless in a way he hasn’t felt in years. And after looking at your peaceful form for a moment longer he decides that he needs your attention more than you need your sleep. So the next kiss is harder. He finds an almost faded hickey right below your jaw, licking over the skin he traps between his lips and sucking with more fervour.

You give a soft groan that vibrates against his mouth. “Terzo, ’m still sleeping.”

He breaks away with a loud smacking sound, then boops your shoulder with his nose. “No, you’re not.”

“But I’m still tired,” you whine, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

“Aww,” he cooes. “Too tired for your Papa?”

You hum sleepily, your brain not yet fully awake. Terzo won’t let you off the hook. He wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you into his warm body. Looking down with your blurry gaze, you notice a tendon in his arm twitching as he slots his pelvis against yours. You can feel him rock hard against your ass now, poking into the supple flesh of your butt cheek. So this is why he woke you up early on a Sunday morning and not to get you croissants and coffee.

“I am shocked,” he says. “Offended. Mortally wounded.”

“Mhm, Terzo…” 

“You know, you’ve been wriggling against me in your sleep,” he interrupts your complaint. “I bet I’d find you already wet for me, dolce. Tell me, did you dream about your Papa?”

Shifting your legs, you realise that he’s right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d really been dreaming about him just before he woke you. For the past month, he’s been occupying your every thought, every fading dream, every waking moment. What you thought would be a one time thing turned into a two and three and many more times thing, late night McDonald’s runs, hour-long phone conversations when he can’t sleep after his anxiety attacks, countless lunch dates just to have one extra daily hour in each other’s company… and now actually sleeping together, staying the night. This is uncharted territory but as your mind slowly regains its grasp on reality, you’re more than ready to explore what it means.

“I must have,” you admit. “I often do.”

“Oh, really?” His lips trail from your shoulder back to your neck, his voice a low whisper against your ear. “Well, I dream about you too, my little dormiglione, every night.”

You feel your circulation coming to live, heat rushing into your cheeks and between your legs. “Really?”

“Mhm. Do you want to know what my favorite dream is?”

You fight the urge to rub your crusty eyes. “Yes.”

His grasp on you loosens and he turns you onto your back, gently cradling your face. You don’t feel self-conscious about your sleepy, unkempt state for more than a second because there is nothing but pure affection in his mismatched gaze.

“I will show you, amore,” he promises. “A little demonstration is just what we need to wake you up, sì?”

His words register only after he’s kissing down your neck. With an insistent mouth, he latches onto your breast, sighing when he feels the soft flesh against his face. You bury your fingers in his raven hair, gently scratching his scalp, and he moans lowly against your skin. The vibration has you arching into his touch and his eyes snap up at you. They never leave yours as he scoots further down the bed, leaving a wet trail of kisses all over your belly.

Terzo settles between your legs, spreading them just enough to nuzzle one of your inner thighs. Unshaved, his cheeks feel scratchy against your skin and he rubs them against you a few more times with an almost boyish smile. He’s beautiful, even more so in his unkempt state, stubbly jaw, messy hair, eyes still a little puffy. For once he is not tense, not on guard, and you can’t help but reach out and brush a stray piece of hair out of his face. You look at each other in shared vulnerability and for a moment, he leans into your touch, a tender, loving expression softening his features. But then his eyes glint with mischief as he grins and stuffs his face right into your pussy. 

You keen, arching your back. His nose is pressed against your clit, tongue pushing into your entrance, and your hips buck involuntarily. You can’t help but moan – loudly, desperately – and he pulls away with a chuckle.

“Ahhh, there you are. Good morning, sunshine. Not so tired anymore now, eh?” All you can do is whimper at the loss of his touch and his lips curl into a satisfied grin. “Per favore, will you let your Papa have his breakfast now? You know I have a sweet tooth.”

You nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip in anticipation. His face is glistening with your arousal and his eyes narrow just slightly.

“Words, dolce.”

“Yes,” you croak, throat still scratchy. “Please, Papa.”

He chuckles again, moving his hands up your thighs to open them wider before he brings one to your abdomen, the other slowly spreading your folds for him. “So wet, dolce. Your dreams must be even more exciting than mine.”

Words have long since escaped you. Just watching him so readily offer you pleasure is enough to make you light-headed. He licks a broad stripe up from your entrance to your clit where he stays, sucking gingerly at first before he hungrily starts to devour you.

Your eyes flutter close again but not from sleepiness this time.

“Eyes on me,” he demands immediately. “We don’t want you falling back asleep, yes?”

There is no danger of that, your body is burning, muscles clenching with the little energy you have, but you still follow his order. His eyes are on yours as he breaks away, creating space to push one and then two fingers into your waiting hole. You tighten around him with a moan, your whole lower body pulsating with need. A wicked grin and he rubs his fingers against your inner wall, looking for the spot that makes your toes curls. By now, he’s practiced, so in tune with your body that the firm, constant pressure brings you close very fast. When he sees your shudder, his mouth is back on your clit, sucking, licking, humming until you clench around his digits, hips bucking into his face as you ride out your climax. 

You only notice how tightly you’ve been gripping the sheets when Terzo crawls back up to you, gently taking your hand in his. He kisses each of your aching knuckles before he uses your hand as an extension to his, cleaning up his messy face and sucking your fingers into his mouth with such tender care that it makes you smile, your heart almost bursting with love for him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

“Terzo, I haven’t brushed my–”

His mouth collides with yours, tongue dipping into your mouth hungrily. You taste yourself on him but there is barely any time to take it in, your brain still hazy and clouded from your high. When he breaks away, he gives you a pointed look. “Do I look like I care?”

You softly shake your head and wrap your arms around his back, keeping him close. Fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, your breathing slowly evens.

“I love waking up with you,” you mumble with a smile. “Not just because of this. If you let me, I want you to be the first thing I see every day for the rest of my life.”

“If I let you?” His eyes soften and he gives an almost pained smile, struggling to accept the truth behind your words. But then he huffs out an exhale, pushing his hip back against you. “Amore, do you honestly think I will ever allow you to leave this bed again?”

With his painfully hard and leaking cock pressed against your thigh, the answer to his question is quite clear. You mentally say goodbye to breakfast. There are far more inviting things to sustain you than food.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Copia

content: soft!dom copia just bc I can, praise kink, thigh riding, v fingering, gloves

A murmur right by your ear. “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” A short pause. “Chianti.”

You’re about to fall asleep on Copia’s tiny bed, dim candlelight and his warmth surrounding you. The Silence of the Lambs is running in the background on a grainy VHS tape, Copia mumbling most of the dialogue to himself, practically lulling you to sleep. You’re half on top of him, legs intertwined, a mess of tangled red limbs in matching sweatpants. He knows you aren’t paying any attention to the movie with the way your nose evenly exhales against his windpipe, but after the long day you had that’s no surprise.

His arms automatically close around you, squeezing your tired body closer to his. The shift pushes his knee further between your legs and you feel a slight pressure against your clit. Copia continues to mumble but your focus shifts to the burning sensation in your core. His thigh is firm against your pussy and you tentatively move your hips a little. It’s innocent enough at first, a wriggle to get more comfortable. Copia presses a kiss to your hair, a searching hand finding your waist for a comforting squeeze.

It only serves to make you more restless. You roll your hips, desperate for more friction. He catches on by the third time you do it, the hand on your side sliding down, fingers spreading over your hip as he pulls you in closer. You continue to grind on his thigh, slow but steady, soft moans tumbling from your lips. After a few seconds he starts to massage you through the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling you forward so you slide over his leg even harder. You keen and grab at his t-shirt right above his chest, scrunching up the fabric. The pressure feels too good, shivers running down your spine and into your core.

“So needy,” Copia whispers on his next exhale, tickling the skin just below your ear. “Your Papa loves it when you use him to get off, tesoro. When you make a mess all over his thigh.”

You whimper again, louder, higher, too exhausted to move as fast as you’d need to find some actual relief. His hand slides under the elastic of your pants, warm black leather against soft, delicate skin, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.

“Do you want me to help you, topolina?” he asks, voice low and deep.

“Mhm.”

“You have to ask, my baby,” he reminds you. “I want to hear it.”

“Please, Papa, help me.”

“Tell me what you need from me.”

“I n-need your fingers, Papa. Please.”

Soft lips brush your temple. “Hm, so good for me. But you sound tired, amore, are you sure you can take it?”

Your voice comes out in a strangled whine. “Yes, Papa. Please.”

He stops your movements, and you wail in disappointment as he pulls his leg away from you, a dark red patch staining the red cotton. But his hands quickly find your hip again, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, amore,” he says, pushing the hem down to your knees. “Your Papa is going to take care of you.”

His fingertips dance up your thigh and move straight between your legs, probing at your entrance. Rubbing along your folds, he spreads out your arousal all over the black leather. Copia hums when he feels how ready you are for him, pushing two fingers inside of you with ease. You moan at the stretch, clenching around his digits as he curls them inside of you. 

“Hm, you like that, amore?”

You hum, pressing your hot forehead against his neck. He slowly starts to move, an almost languid pace but his thrusts are deliberate, hitting you right every time. Rippling waves of pleasure run all over your body and leave a trail of goosebumps. You’re getting close, shifting, wriggling. The wet noises of his hand moving against you drown out the sounds of the movie. With your last remaining effort, you move your hips, joining his rhythm.

Copia hums in approval. “Hmm, yes, use my hand, make yourself come, topolina.”

You cry out as you clench tightly around his fingers, the sound muffled by his sweaty skin against your lips. He can feel you shuddering against him, and you slowly turn into a panting, whimpering mess in his arms. With a few last curls of his fingers, he carries you through your orgasm, smiling at every little tremor he can coax out of you.

“Hmmm, so good for your Papa.” More wet kisses to your face. “You did so well, amore.”

You come to, smiling softly at his praise as the room around you becomes clearer. You notice the lights of the tv flickering off the walls. Buffalo Bill probably just murdered someone, but Copia must have turned down the sound because all you can hear is his slightly increased heartbeat when you settle on his chest. He pulls up your sweatpants and continues to hold you against him, kissing your hair so softly you can barely even feel it. Your body starts to feel heavier, drowsiness taking over now that you’re sated. You close your eyes and let the lingering feeling of bliss carry you into a peaceful slumber.

⛧ ✦ ⛧

if anyone skipped over primo I am going to find you and haunt you forever.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Any sort of interaction or feedback is as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part four

art by the amazing @piaart!!

author’s note: HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY @angellayercake!! GO TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

so sorry for the delay on this haha. i've been wrestling with this for a while but i'm pretty happy with it now! it is about 4.4k words. part one/two/three. ao3 linky.

Terzo’s house is different at night. The lights are dim and the shadows are long, every long, creaking corridor seemingly ending in a black void. You’ve never been here this late. In fact, you can’t remember what you were just doing… why are you working late? The hardwood floor rasps beneath your shoes as you turn a corner and see him inside the room at the end of the hallway, sprawled out across a plush purple couch. Terzo immediately perks up at the sight of you, propping himself on his elbows, the usual lop-sided grin sitting handsomely on his face. You feel like you float to him and you’re suddenly standing next to the couch, hovering over him. One of his hands crawls up your waist and then loops his arm around you to pull you down on top of him. It’s much more forward than the careful dance the two of you have been doing since the couch incident. You struggle to breathe in his lap, his hands firmly planted on your waist as he leans up to level his eyes with yours.

“This is what you want, si?” He purrs, his hands snaking up your back to hold you close to him, his face an inch away from you. His paint is sharp, more sharp than usual, and he feels hot to the touch, his fingers nearly burning through your shirt. Your heart flutters and you gasp, your mouth dropping open as his stuttered breath hits your lips. “You like me. You want me. You’ve wanted me from the start, haven’t you, puffetta?” You’ve heard him growl before but not like this, not in a low hum that sends a shiver down your spine. Words fail you but you manage to nod. And nod. And nod again before his large hand grabs the back of your head, his fingers knotting in your hair. You nearly moan in anticipation, wanting and needing this so badly, his lips just about to touch yours — so close to finally tasting him.

Instead, you wake up in a cold sweat, your fingers dug into the sheets and drool on your pillow. Your panting and your cheeks are flushed but you slowly start to cool off once you rip the comforter off of you, throwing it to the ground in frustration. Mostly frustration at yourself for continuing to watch videos of your boss performing. You can’t help it. Terzo let you in. He invited you to sit beside him and take a peak into his world. The memorabilia makes sense now, the posters, the photographs, the everything.

And you want to know more.

“Ah, it is really… coming along, eh?” Terzo sounds so sleepy, brushing the hair out of his eyes and gazing out of the kitchen window while his hip rests against the counter. You take a moment to look up from your laptop and out the window as well, silently taking in the improvements that have been made under your care. The grass is a lush green, a hammock underneath the only tree in the yard, now trimmed and shaped to actually resemble one. A patio with a stylish dark grey conversation set beneath a hardtop gazebo is just to the left of the window, nestled in a corner of the yard. The garden still needs some work but there are two small raised beds in the back corner, where the sun shines the most, and a few spots already reserved for jalapeno peppers at Terzo’s insistence. You turn back to look at him, unable to fight off the blush that rises to your cheeks.

“Do you like it?” There’s a lilt in your voice, lips pulling into a small smile. It makes him melt a little bit.

“Si, yes. It is much nicer than it was before…” He trails off as he slinks closer to you only to keep his gaze settled on the yard. “We must have spritz’s outside one of these nights.”

“Spritz?”

“Ehhh, it’s like rosso arancio — orangey **drink with ice cubes and, uhhhh, ah! Served in a wine glass.” His mannerisms make you smile even more. You feel like a fool and you’re sure you look like one but you can’t help it. Your dream intensified your feelings, making it nearly impossible to hide them at this point. Is it so bad? To have a crush on your weird, retired-rockstar boss?

“Oh, like in White Lotus?” You rest your chin on your hands and flutter your eyes at him. Terzo flashes a bright smile but you can see in his eyes that he has no idea what you’re talking about. Silence lingers with him hovering just above you, your eyes locked. The moment is interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. “Oh shit, the landscaper!” You grab your phone and hurry out of the kitchen and toward the backyard.

Terzo keeps his eyes on the yard, slipping his hands in his robe pockets as he waits for you to appear. You caught him off guard this morning, your dreamlike gaze and easy smile making it impossible for him to be anything other than endeared to you. He’s almost relieved for the interruption because of how close he was to breaking the tension, wanting nothing more than to shove his fingers down your throat and watch those bright eyes widen with shock. You come into view with the landscaper trailing behind you, looking over your shoulder with a smile as you use your hand to sweep across the landscape with your finger ending up pointing to some brush that needs to be cleared. Terzo has spent so much time just watching you operate and he hasn’t tired of it, which is a feat due to his relatively short attention span. In fact, he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it.

You’re a natural with people. You always have a cheery smile, a nice greeting and some banter to lighten things up. He’s been so shut-in, his only company either you or his own voice, that watching genuine human interaction makes him swoon hard for you. His mind drifts to the times when he used to be social and how it used to fuel him, how it used to keep him going even after his Papacy fell apart.

What fuels him now? His gaze falls to where you had been sitting and his attention is immediately captured. You left you laptop open.

Terzo has always been nosy, even during his days at the Abbey. He can’t help but allow his eyes to focus on your email inbox that you foolishly left open. How many secrets could be in your inbox? What could he find out about you through what’s there? Terzo resists. He truly does for a split second. But he just cannot help himself. He slinks into the wooden kitchen chair you are set up at and pulls his glasses out from his robe pocket. He clicks on the first thing he sees: Banana Republic and is disappointed that it is only clothes. One of the male models catches his attention, though.

His outfit, specifically. A henley and a cardigan, matched tastefully with a pair of sweatpants. Terzo wonders if this is the kind of style you like. He pulls out his phone and opens the Banana Republic website but freezes when he hears faint footsteps. Terzo scrambles out of your chair, only to settle close by, leaning against a nearby wall and pretending to be hopelessly distracted by his phone (aka, staring at cardigans).

You enter the kitchen and can’t help by eye him suspiciously, the look on his face perhaps just a bit too aloof. He keeps scrolling lazily and starts to lean backward, all too aware of your gaze. It lingers for a moment before you sit back down, knitting your brows together at the email open on your screen. Then, you see that it’s up to 50% off all items which could be combined with clearance items and you’re clicking the link, getting lost in the undeniable pull of online shopping. Terzo gives a dramatic huff and leaves the room, desperately trying to hide how tickled he is.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unable to hide a grimace. This is silly. Today is date day. You ended up texting Dylan. How could you not? Something you’ve longed for since you were a girl was offered up to you on a silver platter. So — why aren’t you more excited? Instead, Terzo is on the mind. It feels like he’s consumed your whole life as of late, spending your days in his home working for him and now he’s seeped into your home time. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully go down the rabbit hole, sticking only with the videos he had shown you in his home despite your YouTube recommendations now being full of him but also… other videos of different singers and musicians under the same band name. Of course, you couldn’t ask despite your curiosity — it’s obviously something of a sore subject and he’s only just started opening up to you more about that time of his life. The last thing you want to do is press him on something so personal and painful to him.

But now you have to live with this knowledge.

You try to push the thought from the forefront of you mind, instead focusing on yourself in the mirror again. A black shift dress hugs your figure and you have your red scarf, your favorite scarf, loose around your neck. How are you supposed to dress for this occasion? A date after work? It’s impossible to put together an appropriate outfit for both. But also — who are you kidding? The idea of Terzo seeing you in a dress has you anxious in more ways than one. No one needs an excuse to wear a dress but for some reason you feel guilty. Guilty that this dress isn’t for him. Maybe… a little bit disappointed, too. But you should give Dylan a shot, right?

“Right?” Oh, you are anxious.

Something catches your eye in your mirror, your gaze slowly trailing toward it. Your red scarf. You hum in thought for a moment and then turn to snatch it off your dresser, quickly looping it around your neck. Immediate relief washes over you, something about the scarf soothing your nerves. Could be because it makes you think of the way warm knuckles brushed along your cool neck. A shiver runs down your spine and your cheeks flush from the thought. Fuck. You have to pull yourself together. Time to focus on work, on getting shit done to distract yourself from… well everything.

Meanwhile, Terzo is having a similar time looking at himself in disbelief. It’s the most put together he’s tried to be since his days as Papa. He sits on the edge of his bed, one hand on each knee, his toes tapping on the ground in front of him. The amount of thought that has gone into this outfit is silly, even though he basically bought exactly what the model was wearing. Now his thoughts have turned to how should he be sitting when you arrive? See? It’s silly*.* He almost ashamed of how **you’ve wormed your way into his cold, broken heart **when **that was not his plan. You’re supposed to be obsessed with him, waiting on him hand and foot while kissing the ground he walks on. Instead he’s fallen for you. How embarrassing. But how could it have been avoided?

Terzo rests his palms on either side of his bed as he leans back and spreads his legs, sharp eyes examining his position for a beat. Too forward? An amused grin flickers across his face at the thought of you reacting to him like this. Definitely too forward. He tilts his head and adjusts himself with care, back straightening out and he crosses his legs. Closer but not quite. Terzo stares at his own reflection, admiring his paint for the day. Every time he sees himself he wonders why he still applies it everyday. Perhaps it’s a comfort thing, makes him feel like he’s important again. Like he’s Papa.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear you call him that.

Terzo takes a deep breath and exhales with a rumble, his eyes falling shut. You would do anything he asked, wouldn’t you? His mouth splits into a grin as he runs his slender fingers through his hair. Eyes open slowly, gaze focusing on his reflection. Strands of hair had fallen into his face and his head overall looking stylishly unkempt. More giggles.

Perfect.

Some mornings it’s like you blink and you’re at Terzo’s home. Not this morning. You are hyper aware of every stoplight, every Dunkin Donuts as your commute drags out to the second. Too much alone time with your overactive brain plotting out kind of every situation where something could go wrong with the date or work today and coming up with attack plan after attack plan to fix the issue. Not fun. After what feels like an eternity, you pull through the eerie wrought iron gate and travel down the long, tree lined driveway. Tension fills your chest as you come to a slow stop. It’s just one weird day that you have to get through.

You got this.

Terzo is already in the foyer by the time you walk through the door which is unlike him, usually spending most mornings in bed or somewhere else dark and comfy until he can no longer tolerate his caffeine withdrawal headache. He’s balancing his coffee cup on his thigh, one hand resting behind his head while the other scrolls through his phone. Your feet come to a stop, blinking a few times to ensure what you’re seeing is real, having never seen him this clothed before*.* He’s still in sweatpants but they taper down to his ankles and he’s wearing a pair of moccasins, his hair expertly tousled and reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing a white henley that is artfully unbuttoned to expose his thick chest hair and a cozy navy blue cardigan draped over his slinky shoulders. Only his eyes are painted — giving you the chance to finally see his bare face, smooth olive skin wrinkled with age. You stare at him silently. He looks like he’s come directly out of a magazine. Terzo head tilts to face you, his eyes still focused on his phone until they unhurriedly drag away from the screen to settle on you.

“Ammazza…” The word is an impassioned whisper. He’s stunned, eyes wide as he looks over your figure with such a deliberate slowness it makes your cheeks burn. Dark eyes settle on your scarf, a smirk tugging on his lips, then his gaze flickers to meet yours. He rises from his seat, one hand clumsily snatching his coffee from his lap to stop himself from spilling, trying to hide his clumsiness with a cough. “Buongiorno mio toppolino… eh, you are wearing a dress?”

“I am. You’re wearing a cardigan.”

“I am.” Terzo purrs and slinks closer to you as he slips his phone into his cardigan pocket. His clumsiness is now replaced by that irresistible lazy swagger you are so familiar with. He lets his eyes wander again, tilting his head while regarding you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest but it’s impossible to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “I do not think I can let you start work without a dance, not when you are wearing such a beautiful dress, puffetta.” There’s an undeniable heat in his words. It’s too early for this.

“It’s too early for this, Terzo.” You huff as you avert his eyes, a desperate attempt to not fall under his spell.

“Come now… I don’t want to pull the “boss” card but, eh…?” He sets his coffee down on the table as his other arm brazenly snakes around your waist. Your face is fully red now and your brain is in a deep state of fart but you manage to move with him. This is the exact opposite of what you wanted for today but you find your stress slipping away to focus on the warmth of his fingers from having held his mug of coffee. He guides your hand to his chest then slips his bare hand along your other arm until he laces his fingers in yours and raises them to lead the way. Terzo is taller than you, not by much but he still looms over you, those piercing eyes never leaving yours. He starts to slowly sway to imaginary music as your cheeks burn, your chest impossibly warm but you start to loosen up, especially as his movements grow more fluid. “There is always time for a little dance, eh?” Terzo leans in close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your lips then rests his cheek against your temple with a hum.

And you thought cuddling on the couch was intimate. You feel every inhale and exhale, his humming gradually growing stronger in your ear. His cool lips and warm breath giving you goosebumps. Cirice. You recognize it from your be various videos you’ve watched but bite your tongue and enjoy him. This may not be a stage in front of thousands of people but it definitely feels like a demonstration of some kind. Or he could just be pushing the boundary like the creeper he is and you’re eating. it. up. The last time you slow danced was at your senior prom with your date who was on probation — unbeknownst to you at the time he asked you. Somehow this is far less awkward than that. His arm around your waist starts to shift upward, his large hand pressing up your back. He lifts his head but is still only a breath away, his smile lines deep as his gaze meets yours. Your heart stirs in your chest, air caught in your lungs but before you get swept up in the moment he changes the tone.

Terzo starts singing, more energetic and loud as he leads you from the foyer into the den. You nearly trip over yourself when he twirls you, picking up the pace to be more jaunty, more goofy. But even with the fun movements you are extremely aware of his hand on the small of your back, fingertips pressing against you every so often. He’s smiling so wide that it makes it hard for you to hold it together. All of your worries about the day are gone, though — replaced by being completely entranced by him. You know just how special this song is to him, the moments he had on stage with fans, holding their hands and kissing their knuckles. And now he has you in his arms.

“I am going to dip you now.”

“You’re going to wha--?!” You squeal as he dips you, your hand frantically gripping onto his shoulder. He doesn’t drop you though, instead pulling you back to your feet with his toned arms curling around your back. You stop breathing, your chests touching and a strand of his hair brushing against your forehead from how close the two of you are.

“Mm… you are a good dance partner, you know? Easy to lead.” Is he trying to kill you today? Terzo gives you some space but still sways with you, the dance feeling more like… more like standing very close to one another waiting for something to happen. “You spoiled me today with wearing this dress.”

And a punch to your gut. Extreme guilt builds inside you and you can’t stop the distress from being all over your face.

“Oh…oh, puffetta, I am sorry, am I making you uncomfortable or—?” You cut him off with a sigh and take a step away from him, your eyes closing to give yourself time to collect your feelings while his arms fall from around you.

“No, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is so weird. I’m… I have a date after work today. So that’s what the dress is for.” There is no air in your lungs. Everything is so strained. “But you… this…” A flutter in your chest. “I like it. I’m… sorry this dress isn’t for you.” Do you even need to be apologizing? The answer would be no if it was anyone else other than him.

His face is stone cold, so different than the joy that had radiated from him just moments ago. The smile is gone and his brows are furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. You think you’re going to, ummm, die? All you can do is stare back at him, eyes incredibly wide and worry etched across your face. What is he thinking? Why is he taking so long?

One of Terzo’s hands lunges forward and grabs you by the back of your neck, his thumb pressed hard right below your ear. A surprised yelp, grasping for his sleeve and his shirt as his grip on you only tightens. His lips crush against your mouth, tongue forcing it’s way inside. He tastes like spiced coffee. The kiss is ferocious, you feel like you’re disappearing into it, mind blank but fingers digging into the fabric of his cardigan. Terzo’s teeth graze your bottom lip as he pulls away, a fiery look in his eyes.

“Do not forget who you belong too.” A low, vicious growl with bared teeth, pointed fangs glistening in the morning light. He uses his strength to push you down to your knees by your neck, your legs now trembling beneath. Speechless, you can’t look away from him now. Silence stretches between you. And then… he leaves and doesn’t spare you another glance.

You think you are broken. There’s an ache, a primal ache between your legs that burns hotter than you’ve ever felt before. Your skin is on fire, your cheeks burning and numb. What the fuck? He kissed you. Your boss kissed you and then spoke to you as if you are his possession. And it makes you want him more than ever before.

How are you going to be able to think about anything else?

Lucky for you, Terzo is MIA for the rest of the day.

You work as if he is standing over you, watching your every move. You don’t want to disappoint him, not now. Not after he kissed you. But the date. Dylan. Oh, Dylan. Caught in the middle of something there is no way he will ever understand. You hover in your text chat with him a few times with intent to cancel on him… but you can’t. He’s the one who got away, the one who you pined for like an idiot throughout half your life. This date could close that book. Or it could be the prologue. You won’t know unless you follow through.

The end of the day rolls around and you can’t help but pause in the foyer on your way out. Your chest tightens. Such a pleasant start to the day only to spiral out of control. You’re almost happy he kissed you before you were able to tell him that your date was picking you up from his house. The front porch creaks beneath your feet, the rotting wood the focus of your work today. Dylan is already there, leaning against his car and he gives you a big wave. You smile and wave back, light on your feet as you head toward him.

“Ma che cazzo…?” Terzo stares in disbelief, watching from his bedroom window as your date opens the passenger side door for you. Rage boils up within him, his hands clutching at the hem of his cardigan. A ceiling light POPS! behind him, green electricity illuminates the room but only for a second. Flames light up the bottom of the curtains, slowly eating away at them until they are completely engulfed. He’s too angry to care. The shy smile you gave your date eats him up inside, churning his stomach and making his nerves spark. The car fades from view and he unleashes an anguished scream as his hands seemingly grow claws, tearing and ripping the cardigan he had so carefully styled that morning. He doesn’t stop until he’s shirtless and surrounded by shreds of fabric. A sloppy wave of his hand somehow extinguishes the flames, leaving him in his room in the dark.

The nerve of you. To flirt, to giggle, to flutter your beautiful, delicate eyelashes at him while entertaining the idea of another man in your mind. A whore for attention, aren’t you? Pain in his chest. He shouldn’t call you a whore. You don’t deserve that. But it hurts, puffetta. Is it because he slacked off? Or that he had gone soft on you? Terzo groans as he sits on his bed, lasting less than a second before he flops onto the mattress and sinks into the mess of covers. He has been too soft, fucking twirling you around the foyer like a lovesick puppy. A romantic at heart always, eh? It was worth it — seeing you smile and blush gives him life, a reason to wake up the next morning because he has nothing else to do. You’ve made this shithole the Ministry saddled him with into a place that actually makes him feel at home. So… maybe he could be somewhat lenient with your punishment.

Electricity crackles in his bones. He is going to spend the rest of the night here, he thinks, casting a glance at his ancient alarm clock. 5:30pm. What else could possibly get him out of bed at this point? Terzo huffs and swings one of his legs over his body to lazily roll over, dragging the covers along with him to successfully burrito himself with a scoff. Another instance in which someone stole the spotlight from him. At least this time it isn’t his decrepit father. He breaks into a wild chuckle.

That would be fucked.

[kidstemplatte]

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

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primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

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thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

[angellayercake]

How about a spicy prompt?? Terzo realizing the reader really likes his hands (tends to stare at them a little too long as he does random tasks, things like that). Take this in whatever direction you see fit. Thanks!

Oh you did it anon! You finally got me to write something about THE GLOVES!!! They make me crazy insane and I probably think about them far more than what is normal but there we go 🙃

Terzo x GN Reader | NSFW | 1200 words

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

You twitch every time a sharp nail comes in contact with the desk. It’s not even the noise that is driving you to distraction. It is those damn gloves. And, well the hands that are wearing them. And by default the infuriating man to whom they belong. 

Why it was decided he needed to wear his full vestments for this particular meeting you do not know but in your mind at least you violently curse the person who insisted on it. It would be a lie to say that you didn't find him distracting on the best of days being so well acquainted with the capabilities of his dexterous fingers but there really is something about those particular gloves that melts your brain among other less appropriate parts of your anatomy. 

Usually it is manageable. Rarely does he wear them and even then you are only cursed with a glimpse from a distance, barely catching the sharp glint of nails and certainly not able to hear the quiet creak of the leather every time he gestures. Which damn his dramatic Italian ass is everytime he speaks.

 At Mass you fight to keep your thoughts on his words as much as you can. Rituals are so full of spectacle and performance it's easy to break your fixation. And official events are usually so stressful you don't have a thought to spare.

But today you are not so lucky. To call this meeting tedious would be under selling the situation greatly. You can't even remember what is about now, which is especially bad for you considering you are supposed to be note-taking. The visiting Cardinals had insisted on meeting with all the Higher Clergy to tell them something they deemed very important but that was proving very dull for almost everyone else. 

Sister Imperator has the appearance of listening attentively but you can see the glaze over her eyes, probably thinking of all the other actually important things she could be doing with this time. To her right Cardinal Copia sits in a similar position to you, notebook and pen in hand, yet every minute or so his grip loosens as his eyelids droop and it's only the dropping of his chin or the pen about to fall from his hand that jolts him back to wakefulness. To her left, Papa Nihil has given up all pretence of paying attention, slouching back in his chair and snoring quietly. 

And then there was Papa. Your Papa. Initially he had tried to engage the visitors with his usual charm but even he had not proved a match for their dreary topics of conversation. So he had taken to torturing you instead. Ever the attentive man he had cottoned on quickly to the way your gaze was drawn to his hands with every flick of his wrist and now seemed to be doing his damnedest to keep them centre of your attention. Which was hardly a challenge. 

Every time he flexes his fingers you watch the leather strain to accommodate the movement of his impatient tapping. They are so tight they fit like, well, a glove, but more indecent somehow. The skin tight leather and the glinting pointed tips elongating his fingers perversely until all you can think about is the way they would feel against your skin. The cool sharp scratch followed by the soothing soft warmth. He likes to tease, to push you to your limits and then further still until all you can think about is him so you can easily imagine how he would start. Seemingly innocuous touches as he slowly peeled away your clothes only to reveal how much the barest touches of his gloved fingers had ruined you.

Suddenly he flattens his hands on his desk in irritation, interrupting the drone of a Cardinal with an angry interjection but after a moment's shock you drown out their bickering taking the opportunity to admire the gloves openly displayed as they are. Careful lines of stitches fan from his wrist, the deliberate placement helping achieve the perfectly tight fit. You had watched him pull them on once, easing them over his hands and struggling to slide down the zip which follows the curve of his thumb and keeps them in place. Clearly still incensed by whatever they are discussing he gestures towards one of them palms up so you can follow the seam across his palm allowing for the movement of his thumbs. 

As precisely as it is sewn you can only imagine how it might catch your pebbled nipple if he were to palm at the curve of your chest as he explored you. Your skin could be left a criss cross of scratch marks as his large hands covered the planes of your body varying the pressure as a threat of something more, the possibility of him breaking your skin ever present. Perhaps they aren’t so sharp as that but a part of you wishes they were as you allow yourself to think about them sliding between your legs.

His finger tips would trace you meticulously, one wrong move and he could damage you severely, but isn’t that a large part of the reason you find yourself so drawn to them. The anticipation tinged with dread of the sharp sting of his claws only building the warm pleasure you feel. And for him, hopefully the power you would allow him to hold over you would only make him want you more, making the necessity of his slow, precise movements even more frustrating for the two of you. 

You realise somewhat detachedly that your pleasure would likely ruin his beautiful gloves. They are such an important part of his image, his costume that marks him as the dark and powerful leader but even then you think you would have no regrets. Not when you would feel the metallic nails grow warm against you or the leather slipping smooth with barely there friction due to your arousal. Perhaps they would survive, stained with the evidence of their effect on you, the scent of you lingering on his fingertips as a reminder of your sweet lustful sin.      

Sister Imperator stands, and everyone else follows her lead, signalling the end of this meeting and breaking your reverie. You risk a glance at Papa, daring to catch his eyes and he knows, he always knows when your thoughts have strayed to the sinful. It is impossible to look away from his smug expression even as his gaze drops down your body knowingly. Slowly, deliberately returning his eyes to yours he beckons you towards him. One long finger curling deliberately pulling you towards him, as inevitable as gravity. Until Cardinal Copia interrupts your line of sight and prevents you from stepping into his orbit. You are needed, urgently for some other pointless duty, the realisation that your fantasy is no longer about to come to fruition dousing your lust as if cold water was cascading down your body.    

Papa’s displeasure flits over his face before his expression shutters and he is back to business even as you are steered out of the room by the Cardinal. You spare him one last look and you can only hope the flash in his eyes and the quirk of his lips are a promise that if not now you will be his again as soon as he can get his hands on you.