#cardinal copia fanfics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

her-satanic-wiles · 17 days

Text

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst naked.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to this nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

247 notes · View notes

ghulehunknown · 8 months

Text

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

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band smut #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band fanfic #copia is my husband #papa emeritus iv #terzo #copia emeritus #kinktober 2023 #papa emeritus smut #papa emertius #terzo x reader #primo x reader #secondo smut #terzo fanfiction #secondo x reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader

700 notes · View notes

ghostchems · 2 months

Note

hello my darling. i see your requests are back open… 👀 i've got a prompt for you if you so wish to write it… reader has been dead for decades, aimlessly wandering the halls of the ministry where no one has ever seen her, heard her or even felt her… until one day, she's walking (or y'know… floating…) through the halls and someone is walking towards her. He stops in his tracks and stares straight ahead. Then she realises…

he's staring at her… Choose a papa, any papa! Whoever you would like to write, if you choose to write it! 😘

a/n: almost 1k words of some sweetness. after reading the prompt i KNEW i had to pick Cardinal Copia 🥹 bee. thank you SO much for sending this in. hit me right in the dang feels

Loneliness has driven you to the busy corridors of the Abbey. Despite the clergy members quite literally seeing right through you, their presence around you is enough to alleviate the void inside you. You’ve had to make do over the decades but even after all of the disappointment there is still an unwavering flicker of hope that you’ll make some sort of contact. Who knew it would be impossible for a ghost to be noticed in a Satanic Ministry? Many attempts have been made, ranging from morose to macabre (floating candles vs. severed limbs) but to no avail. Perhaps there’s something wrong with you. Is your spirit not dark enough to be seen? You remember how you died and decide that can’t be the case.

You gave everything for The Olde One. The Ministry was a very different place back then.

You’re lost in the endless abyss of your thoughts until there’s a shift in energy around you. Something new. Someone new. The wisps of your ghostly train curl towards the ceiling behind you and gust of warm air blows your hair out of your face.

Oooh. A Cardinal. It’s been ages since there’s been one here, the last one being in 19—

Is he looking at you?

There’s no way but… his gaze is fixated on the space you occupy, eyes wide. He bears the Mark of The Olde One — just like the Papas, but even with the Eye no one has ever seen you. He picks up his pace, walking to you with such purpose. You feel an excitement you haven’t felt since you were alive but it’s quickly replaced with crippling anxiety. In a fit of panic you poof out of the corridor and reappear deep into the underground archives, far far away from any person. But the new Cardinal saw you. He really did. After vying for this for so long… you aren’t ready for it.

***

You’ve meandered further into more densely populated areas of the Abbey over the last two weeks after taking some time for yourself to come to grips with the fact that he saw you. Problem is now the Cardinal is nowhere to be found. The longer the week stretched the more you began to believe it was over — he must have only been visiting for the day and thus your chance at talking to someone other than yourself for the first time in 55 years has slipped through your fingers. But that same hope you’ve clung to keeps you pacing and wandering day after day, hoping to catch of glimpse of his black cassock.

One late night you find yourself perusing the library, hovering around the new releases aisle (you like to see how ridiculous the names of romance novels have gotten). The further you get down the aisle the thicker the air becomes around you, the familiar buzzing in your ear from the first time you saw him. There’s a dim light coming from one of the nooks. You steel yourself, you’re going to make yourself known like you planned. Glowing brighter than you ever have before, you float toward the light. How can a ghost have anxiety? You’d think all of those feelings would be gone but somehow you feel like you’d throw up if that were even possible. You reach the outside of the nook and suck in a sharp breath before peering around the corner.

His duochromatic eyes are on you instantly.

“Per favore — please, do not run away again.” He sounds quiet, sleepy but polite and he extends a hand out to you. “I was worried I would not see you.” You blink at him as you reveal yourself fully to him, his gaze taking you in.

“You… you really see me?” Your voice cracks, your ghost trail wiggling with how charged you are emotionally.

“Yes. I do.” The Cardinal stands, his hand still out to you. “I, ehh… I’m the new Cardinal, Cardinal Copia. What is your name?”

My name?

“You’re… you’re the only person who’s ever seen me.” Not an answer to his question at all but your brain is broken. All that time you spent hoping for this…

“Oh. Oh, poverino.” His fingertips graze your hand and you jump — he could feel you too? “Ah! I am sorry! Ehhh… what can I do? How can I help you?” Copia shuffles on his feet anxiously, making sure to keep a safe distance so that he doesn’t startle you again. Your guise is crackling, vibrating with energy, more than you’ve ever felt before. He seems… delighted by your prescience and it makes you feel warm.

“H-how? Cardinal, how?” You push in closer to him, wisps brushing against his cassock.

“Non lo so. I’ve… I’ve just always been able to.” He gives you a sad smile. “I eh… had some weird “imaginary friends” growing up. But please, you must… you must have a lot to say after spending so long only listening.” Copia may have the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard. You want to hug him especially since something about this feels deeply personal to him…but you compose yourself and instead take him by the hand as you sit on the corner of his desk.

“What do I even say now?” You laugh to yourself. “I’ve been so worried about ever being heard that I haven’t thought about what to say. What do you… want to know, Cardinal?” Even now you’re feeling shy.

He gingerly rests his hand on top of yours, a warmth spreading through you that you’ve never experienced before.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you since I saw you, fantasmina. Please, tell me about you.” Copia squeezes your hand with a kind smile. Speechless. You take a deep breath and nod.

You’ll tell him.

You’ll tell him everything.

#guys i am on a plane right now #forgot to add the damn pic #Cardinal Copia #Cardinal Copia x reader #Copia request #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus reader #Copia x reader #papa emeritus iv #ghost band fabric

256 notes · View notes

littlemissemeritus · 24 days

Text

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

152 notes · View notes

ghuleh-witch · 2 months

Text

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

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

And you wanted to play the part of willing donor.

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

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

You nod. “Very sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is until he groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ghost #the band ghost #papa emeritus iv #copia #cardinal copia #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus fanfic #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #gn reader #dracopia x reader #dracopia #my fanfic #copia x reader

140 notes · View notes

forlorn-crows · 4 months

Text

And You Know That It Takes Two

Rating: E for Explicit

Relationship(s): Copia/Dewdrop

Tags: transitional period between era iv and era v, banter, slice of life, first time, first kiss, handjobs. beta'd AND correctly translated italian!

Words: 3731

Summary: “Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”

When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.

special thanks to @miasmaghoul for beta'ing and @foxybouquet for the italian translations ♡

EDIT: now with ART from the fabulous @noahl-art. merci beaucoup, nono!! find his full artwork here

Read on AO3 or under the cut:

Caro: dear

Stai bene?: (Are) you okay?

Ti piace?: Do you like this?/Does this feel good?

Merdaccia infernale: (roughly) infernal fucking shit. Closest to "unholy shit".

Proprio così: That’s it.

“D’you think Lucifer would want us to have black mass every Saturday?” Dew pokes the wooden arm of Copia’s chair with the toe of his boot. “Shouldn’t we be exercising our sinful wiles instead of listening to you drone on about the Dark One?”

Copia tugs on a scrap of paper trapped beneath the ghoul’s thigh. “You do plenty of that on your off time, my ghoul,” he teases. He looks over his reading glasses, offering a smirk. Dew can hear the unspoken eh? at the end of his sentence, so much so he can’t help rolling his eyes and smirking back.

“How would you know, old man?” Dew fires back, flicking the hem of Copia’s trousers with his tail. He leans in closer. Elbows resting on his slightly spread knees until his face is level with the anti-pope’s. “Listening in on your free time?” The fire ghoul smiles wickedly, giving him an obvious once over. He cocks his head and bites his tongue between his teeth, waiting for an answer.

Copia’s face rosies a bit, but he returns to his chicken scratch. He jots down a few words before he mutters: “I am sure you do not fantasize your Papa spying on you, caro.”

“Maybe I don’t.” A lie. “Anyway, I think Rain’s loud enough to hear across the fuckin’ abbey. Probably have a soundtrack of water ghoul moans to lull you to sleep every other night,” Dew snickers.

Copia just shakes his head with an amused sigh and continues taking notes. Little chunks of writing in the margins of photocopies of Latin texts, scrawling in both Italian and English in a little notebook off to the side. Dew’s struck with just how patient this man is, endlessly so. He can get crabby on tour, just like any of them, restless and tired, but he really is kind to him and his pack.

The fire ghoul hums thoughtfully and returns to his upright position. Leaning back into the circles of bare desk he cleared earlier for his hands. “Do you get tired of putting up with us, Papa?” he asks casually.

“Dewdrop,” Copia says with a measured tone. He puts his pen down, and his glasses too, looking up at his lead guitarist and steepling his fingers. They’re devoid of gloves, Dew notices in passing, his nails neatly trimmed and his skin smooth and humanly wrinkly. “We have been working together for how many years now?”

Dew shrugs. “A few.”

“Si, quite a few, hm?” Copia agrees. He swivels his chair so his body faces Dew more directly and places a gentle hand on his knee. “Why then, my ghoul, would you think I am ‘putting up with you,’ as you put it?”

“Don’t tell me you actually like us,” Dew says sarcastically. But Copia’s hand is warm on his knee, and he’s trying not to focus too much on how he’s looking at him right now, all soft eyes and a worried crease in his brow.

“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”

He’s quiet for so long that Copia clears his throat and gives his knee a polite pat before taking his hand away. He makes to go back to his notes, but Dew mourns the loss of his hand immediately. His pen barely touches the pages before the fire ghoul sobers up and inhales sharply.

“Uh,” he blurts out stupidly, shaking his head and squinting his eyes at Copia. Unsure what to say but determined to say something. “You mean that?” Immediately he wants to crawl back into himself—back into the Pit, even—for sounding so small. Vulnerable.

“Yes, I do,” Copia says quietly, genuinely. He taps his pen against the paper, little dots of black littering the line beneath his skip this? note. Instead of resuming his annotations, he sets the pen down once more, looking up at the ghoul perched atop his desk. His white eye is suddenly piercing in the lamplight, and he’s looking at him like he can see more than just the ghoul sitting in front of him.

“Well, I guess we’re . . . fond of you too, or whatever you wanna call it,” he mocks, aiming for levity. Dew’s tail flicks, ruffling the hem of Copia’s pants again.

Copia chuckles. “Well, that is good then,” he smiles.

Dew hums. Offers a one-sided smile in return. Easy. He could leave it at that; resume the relaxed banter about sermons and his new duties as Papa while Copia gets increasingly tired and/or annoyed and shoos him away with a chocolate truffle in hand (the ones he keeps stashed in his desk drawer for evenings like this).

He could. But in the same moment, he decides he’s tired of tip-toeing around the idea of what this man is to him. He wades out into the waters, throwing a line.

“Is that . . . the only thing you feel for us?” he says at length, quieter. He scoots his thigh closer to the anti-pope’s hand. Encouraging him to touch again, if he wants. The sudden heat in his belly hoping he does. He wades a little deeper. “For me?”

Now it’s Copia’s turn to falter, fingers twitching at the fabric of Dew’s trousers. He looks down at Dew’s thigh, then back up to his face. Searching his copper eyes for something, anything, his thoughts as loud as if Dew were a quintessence ghoul.

“I . . .” he trails off, a failed start. He clears his throat. “I am, as they say, only human. So there are, perhaps, other . . . things. Si.”

Dew grabs his hand gently, placing it just above where it was moments ago, confidence building. “Fantasies, maybe?”

“Dewdrop—”

“For how bold you are on stage, you sure are fuckin’ shy in private, Papa.”

Copia huffs a laugh, moving his hand tentatively along Dew’s thigh. “Eh . . . reserved, maybe. But I don’t know about shy, my ghoul.” He shuffles his chair so he’s situated back between the fire ghoul’s dangling legs.

Dew smirks. “See? Can call me motherfucker in front of thousands of screaming girls, but it’s my ghoul in here.”

“Ah, but that is the difference. They do not get the privilege of seeing you offstage.” A beat. “Though, I imagine they would do a lot of things for that privilege,” he mutters.

Dew bites his tongue in asserting that he is, in fact, a motherfucker offstage too. Instead, he tilts his head so his ashy hair cascades over his shoulder and spreads his legs further, hooking a foot in the arm of Copia’s chair and tugging it closer. He’s baring all of himself now, literally and figuratively. Potentially risking his position, too, if this goes south.

But by the look on the anti-pope’s face, they’re both too deep to swim back now.

“And what’re you gonna do with that privilege, Papa?”

“You’re asking?” he deflects, putting the other hand on the opposite thigh.

“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, old man, I swear to Satan—”

“Like this?” Copia smooths his hand up the inside of Dew’s thigh, running along the seam of his pants until he reaches where the ghoul’s started to chub up. His breath hitches, head tilting back.

“Yeah,” he breathes. He looks back down at his hand, tucking chin to chest as he watches those fingers press just so, right where the tip of his dick sits already sticky in his boxers. He bites his lip with a stifled noise.

“Long time we’ve danced around each other, I think,” Copia says. Dew just nods, flexing his hips into his fingers to get more friction. Copia presses more firmly, taking the hint. Drawing a firm line down the ridge of his clothed shaft.

“Humans and ghouls, well . . .” he trails off, looking up at Dew.

“You’ve thought about it,” he replies simply.

“Of course. Of course I have, caro. I–” he laughs, shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, look at you.” He stops himself, color rising to his cheeks. He drops his gaze, focusing back on the hand on Dew’s fly.

The fire ghoul watches him trace a finger around the button before reaching down himself, popping it open. “What about me?” he asks softly, inviting. Shifting his hips again to encourage him to continue.

“Not just fishing for compliments, I hope,” Copia teases lightly, a little bit of that stage persona shining through as he drags the zipper down.

“That’s not what—hh-oh.” He cuts himself off with a stuttered breath of a moan, Copia’s hand having reached past his fly and into his pants to pet at the dot of wetness sticking his boxers to his tip. The look of pure curiosity—wonder, really—on the man’s face as he feels him up has his stomach flipping. “Fuck, keep doing that.”

“You tell me what you like, my ghoul, and I will do it,” he whispers.

Dew groans as another bead of precum blurts out into his boxers, wet at just his words. “Keep teasing it,” he breathes. “Shit, see how wet you can get it.” He twitches under Copia’s fingers as he wraps his hand around his clothed cock, thumb swiping back and forth over the head. Firm, but just light enough that it makes Dew keen for more.

Copia continues the little motions, over and over until Dew’s underwear clings to him, saturated with pre. The friction of it and the intensity of Copia’s gaze on him has him dizzy, wanting. The man’s thumb presses over his slit, and he can’t help his eyes rolling back, thighs twitching towards each other.

“F-fuck,” he stutters.

Copia rubs his other hand over Dew’s thigh, soothing. “Stai bene? Good?”

The fire ghoul nods, hair falling off his shoulders to frame his face. “More than,” he groans. He bites his lip, bucking into Copia’s hand. “Again—do it agai—yes, Satanas, yes.”

The anti-pope presses into his slit again, this time dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge with even pressure. Humming as he works it back and forth. It’s so sensitive, so instantly overwhelming that Dew has to consciously restrain himself from gouging his claws into the wood. He lets his head drop back, facing the ceiling and biting his lip to stave off the rush of arousal that threatens to make him spill in his pants.

Below him, Copia sighs. “Beautiful, caro,” he comments.

Dew half-snorts, half-groans, bringing his chin back down to his chest. “You flatter me,” he says with an eye roll.

“They say it gets one everywhere, no?”

“If by ‘everywhere’ you mean ‘in my pants’.”

“If that is where you want me.”

Dew sucks his teeth, scoffs a little in disbelief. Eyebrows twitching upwards when Copia fingers the elastic of his boxers, blunt nails scratching at the peach fuzz on his stomach. He can’t get a grasp on the anti-pope’s tone, switching so fast between charming and soft it makes his head spin. He’s seen both moods separately, of course, fired back his own quips with a silver tongue or begrudgingly accepted praise and a head pat for a productive rehearsal. But having a cocktail of both leaves him with mental whiplash.

The hand making his dick wet probably isn’t helping in that department.

So he nods instead, helping the man shimmy down the waistband of his boxers to snuggle it under his balls, freeing his aching length. Dew hisses at the cool air of the room breezing over the slick-coated head—though, it’s replaced with a puff of hot air when Copia breathes:

“May I?”

Dew nods again, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows as a silent duh. Copia chuckles at that, scooting a little closer. He smooths his other hand up the fire ghoul’s thigh, up, up, up until he stops at his hip and rests his palm there, forearm dropping to sit on top of his leg. Dew’s stuck watching its ascent and misses the moment the anti-pope reaches for him, wrapping his fingers gently around the base of his cock and stroking upwards.

“Lucifer,” he chokes out. He snaps his gaze to where their skin meets and watches his dick kick hard in Copia’s fist, more precum welling up in the slit.

“Ti piace?” Copia continues to stroke slowly, not immediately translating as earlier. His accent curls around Dew’s eardrums, the Italian twisting with foreignness and short-circuiting his language synapses. He shakes his head, begging the small box of Italian in his brain labeled ‘Papa’s Nonsense Words’ to make sense of the phrase.

He blinks at Copia’s expectant gaze. “Huh?” he asks eloquently, forcing the word through an embarrassing moan.

“Does this feel good?” he supplies, nodding toward his hand.

The fire ghoul stares at the man’s hand, now wet with his own slick as it glides up and down. When his brain finally catches up to him, he barks a bewildered laugh. “I’m gonna have to learn more fuckin’ Italian for this,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” Copia laughs too, realizing his little slip-up. Dew’s shoulders shake with his own renewed laughter. Giggles passing between the two as if they were twelve-year-olds who just pulled off a prank on their teacher, not a fifty-something leader of a Satanic church jerking off a near immortal hellbeast turned quasi-human.

But the shared laughter is familiar. Comforting, in a way. Something to dissolve that final layer of caution that sat like oil on water between them.

“You are an endless delight, my ghoul,” Copia sighs, huffing out a last chuckle.

“I’ll give you an endless—uuh-nholy ff–fuck.” Copia runs his thumb over the slit of Dew’s cock, and his sentence is reduced to an eye-rolling moan. He grabs hold of the anti-pope’s forearm that rests on his leg, fingers digging into the muscle as he drools out a fat roll of precum.

Copia hums and smears it around the head, pulling down the foreskin to rub at the sensitive underside. It’s all the courtesy he’s granted before the man goes back to stroking him in earnest, skirting over the head with each downward pass and tightening around the base when he pulls up.

Dew grips his forearm tighter, thighs jumping with each tease of his frenulum. “Faster,” he begs. “And tighter. Fuck, feels s’ good.”

“Merdaccia infernale, are you always so . . .” Copia shakes his head, letting the room fill with the lewd, creamy sounds of Dew’s slick-soaked cock.

“Wet?” Dew supplies as a choked-off noise. “Not al–hah–always. Not since—” his eyes roll back again, too caught in pleasure to be completely coherent. “The��shit–the—” Dew flails his hand in some nonsensical gesture.

“Si, si.” The man understands without further elaboration that he means his elemental transition. That, despite the effective evaporation of his water, the born-again fire ghoul still carries traits from his original alignment—including dribbling pre like a leaky tap.

But Copia knows, doesn’t need him to explain or elaborate. Just tightens his grip and speeds his hand, looking up at Dew with a gaze that cuts him right down to the core. Intense, yet soft and admiring. Desire flickering just behind that.

“Shit,” Dew hisses, letting his eyes close fully. Sinking into it. His hips are moving of their own accord now, little twitches that meet each downstroke, just barely fucking into Copia’s fist. It’s so much better than it has right to be, but Dew doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way Copia’s hand feels on his dick, the way his other hand grips his hip, the way his breathing grows heavier and tickles the fine hairs at the base of his dick, how it chills the wetness at the tip only to be warmed by his fingers within the same second.

“Oh, oh, ohhhh fuck, Papa, fuck.” His pleasure heightens suddenly, the backs of his thighs going pleasantly tingly and his toes curling in his boots. He can feel it starting to build, balls drawing closer to his body with every stroke.

“Close?” Copia whispers, gripping Dew’s hip tighter and shifting in his chair. He grunts a little, no doubt filled out in his slacks too. Dew can’t confirm from this angle, especially not with the way his vision blurs, doubles even. But he has to be, if his wavering voice is anything to go by.

Dew throbs at just the idea of his cock straining against his zipper, balls heavy and squished between his thighs as he watches the fire ghoul come apart. Neglecting it as he showers Dew with undivided attention. He’s assaulted with the mental image of Copia in those tight, white pants from his Cardinal days, absolutely everything on display, and he groans.

He’s shaking now, stomach jumping as his breath starts to quicken. He’s sure his eyes are wild as he looks at the man below him, whining through his teeth as his hand moves faster, faster. Dew watches Copia bite his lip and look down at the movements of his hand, and the sudden fantasy image of that mouth kissing the tip of his cock makes him grip the anti-pope’s forearm until it threatens to bruise, nearly doubling over with the swell of impending orgasm.

Dew needs him. He needs him so badly.

“Gonna cum—fuck, please,” he moans, breath quickening to shortened gasps. “Kiss me—please, m’ gonna—Papa—” Dew grasps at the man’s shirt collar, pulling at it to get him to stand. Dragging him in by the shoulders and kissing him fiercely, whining when Copia groans into his mouth and pumps him even faster. The scent on him is instantly intoxicating; notes of neroli and patchouli, dull wax from the black patches of makeup, the barest hint of incense smoke underneath. All pressed directly into his nostrils where Dew’s nose smushes against his.

“Proprio così,” Copia mumbles, encouraging. His other arm loops around to cradle him between the shoulder blades, hand threading through his hair to grasp and hold as he kisses him deeply. That little bit of tension on Dew’s scalp sends a zing of heat right to his dick, and he’s moaning like a whore as he scrabbles at Copia’s shirt, ready to fall over the edge.

“Fucking. Fu–uhh, uh, uhh—” Dew loses all sense of words as he clings to him, mouth dropping open and tongue drooling over Copia’s lips. He cums hard, spilling over his hand with a shuddering groan, bucking into that wet fist until he’s risking sliding off the edge of the desk. He doesn’t, of course, braced and embraced by Copia’s body as he is.

Dew’s head drops to his shoulder as he rides out the seemingly endless spasms. Far too many for a handy, if he’s being honest. But the anti-pope works him over until he’s milked dry, whispering more words into his hair that he doesn’t understand and rubbing a soothing hand over his back.

“Shit,” he rasps. After a few more moments he peeks down at his lap—lucid enough now to mind his horns—where his black pants are now streaked with white, Copia’s hand resting on his fly also coated in the stuff. He shakes his head softly and laughs.

“Got me good, old man.”

“Dewdrop . . .” His tone is pleading, breathless. Dew lifts his head and the hand on his back migrates to the side of his face, caressing softly. He leans into it as he looks at Copia, his face flushed and a look of pure want and adoration in his eyes. “Please, caro.”

He doesn’t need to ask what he needs, eyes flicking down to the tent in his pants and back up again. Dew nods. Moves the hands around Copia’s neck to the back of his head, pulling him in.

It’s less feverish this time. Softer and slower, but far from chaste. Idly he wonders if any of the others have had him like this: privately in his office, a mere exchange of something fleeting, or hot and heavy in a storage closet after a show, frantic and adrenaline-fueled.

If any of them have, they’ve never told. He’ll go back to the ghoul wing smelling of him, unless he runs straight to the shower. Douse himself in scalding hot water until he can barely smell himself.

But he won’t.

Dew slides into the space in front of Copia, ignoring the mess on his dick as he presses close to the man. Licking into his mouth and sliding their tongues together as Copia’s hands start to roam. The fire ghoul slots a thigh between his legs as his palms reach his waist, pressing against his crotch.

Copia whines in his throat, twisting his fingers into the fabric of Dew’s shirt. He’s hard as steel against his leg, throbbing when Dew presses harder and tugging at him like he could still get closer than he already is.

“Sit down,” Dew rumbles. He breaks the kiss and holds his gaze as he presses on his shoulders, easing him back into the desk chair. Down, down, down until Dew looms over him. He smirks slightly, confidence and ease returning to him as their positions switch. Running his thumb along the painted upper lip then dragging down to the bare one.

Wordlessly, the fire ghoul sinks to his knees. Scoots Copia to the edge of his chair so he can spread his legs. He smooths his palms up his thighs, his infernal heat seeping through the trousers. He watches Copia’s face as he pets at him, cupping and rubbing at his cock through the layers of fabric. The man’s chest heaves. Hands gripping the wooden arms of his chair. Exhaling shakily as Dew traces a claw around the button on his fly.

“Allow me,” Dew purrs.

#the band ghost #fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #dewdrop ghoul #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia x dewdrop #dewdrop x copia #papa x dewdrop #dewdrop x papa #copia/dewdrop #dewdrop/copia #papa/dewdrop #dewdrop/papa #CORRECTLY translated italian #dews gonna go back to the dorms and theyre gonna smell copia on him and then EVERYONES gonna want him

146 notes · View notes

nuntia · 2 years

Text

[SECRETS FROM THE CLERGY]

Have you ever looked closely at the design of the Prequelle Exalted limited version?

by Zbigniew M. Bielak

Think of escape routes or just find your way around the Abbey.

It is a map.

What was once only present at strategic points on the property for the newest Siblings of Sin to be located, now is on your hands.

The thicker lines represent that there is a second floor, following them. The left image shows the new security and surveillance installation buildings.

2K notes · View notes

saruman-the-silly · 9 months

Note

Oh hello... I wanted to make a request, I wanted to know how the Papas would react to seeing that y/n is a little chubby. Because I was looking in the mirror and I was so sad about what I saw, and now I'm lying in bed scrolling through Tumblr thinking about making this request... You don't have to do it if you don't want to, It's just that I love the way you write that I kept thinking about it.

I very much want to, thank you very much :D there is nothing, and I repeat, nothing wrong with being a little chubby, or being a lot more chubby! Whatever size you are, you are beautiful, remember that <3

This also gives me a reason to finally write something for Primo and Secondo so thank you hehe

soooooo I present to you, headcanons about the papas with a chubby reader! (gender neutral ofc hehe)

(I wrote this kind of quickly so if there are horrible grammatical errors, I will try and fix them as I find them lol)

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

Headcanons: Papas with a chubby reader

Primo:

He's very old, and a bit old-fashioned, so he just instantly thought you were an angel when he saw you. Back in his days, the curvier you were, the more attractive you were.

When he got to know you as a person, he grew to love you very quickly.

All of your curves and imperfections were a work of art for him.

Primo is also such a gentle person, and would notice the instant you were feeling down/insecure. He doesn't pressure you to talk about it though, but he still makes sure you know that he's there for you.

If you wanna talk tho? He would listen really well, and after you had poured your insecurities out on the table, he would assure you that your curves just made you more, well, you. And you were his amore, the most beautiful thing in the world.

Secondo:

He's a serious guy who does not like to talk about emotions and stuff. (I don't think he even knows how but lmao anyway)

Secondo's usually serious and no-bullshit charade was quickly torn away by you and your delightful presence. (He was freaking out like crazy when he first met you, Terzo would not let him forget how he stumbled over his words when he was first introduced to you)

Also, fuck, he couldn't keep his eyes from you. Every time you are in a same room with him, his gaze almost involuntarily shifts back to you.

He loves you. So much. So when you came to him, telling how you didn't think you looked good, he was a little confused. How could you see yourself in such a light, when you had made such an impact on him?

He reassures you that yes, he wants to be with you and nobody else.

He doesn't really know say anything else. But he doesn't need to, his actions prove the endless love he harbours for you.

Terzo:

Ah, Terzo, our hopeless romantic.

Terzo has seen many different types of bodies up close and personal during his life, but not one of them could match your beauty.

Needless to say, when he first met you he fell. Hard. Like, head over heels. Out the door went his playboy days, he only had eyes for you.

He literally worships the ground you walk on.

You had trouble believing him, when he confessed his undying love for you. (Don't blame him he just likes to be theatrical but he really did mean it)

You confessed to Terzo about your insecurities, and he proved himself to be a great listener. After talking, he reassured you that yes, he meant what he said, yes, he wants to be with you.

He would then bring you in front of a mirror, and gently kiss and caress all the parts of your body you are insecure about.

Copia:

He would understand your struggles very well. Having a history with insecurities himself, Copia isn't a stranger to body dysmorphia.

Copia loves you. So much. You helped him get through a lot of his insecurities, so, now was his turn.

He let you vent, while making you a cup of tea, and wrapped you in a tight hug afterwards. You cried in his arms and he just held you and comforted you.

Copia is very direct about his feelings toward you. He lists all the things he loves about you, and tells you how you size just makes you all the more perfect. (the man loves thick thighs)

He would do his best to make you see yourself in the same light he sees you. Copia gently traces over your stretchmarks with his finger, then kisses them and whispers to you how beautiful you are.

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

Thanks for the request annnd enjoy :D

Remember, you are beautiful no matter your size <3

291 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 8 months

Text

A Flower Crown For A Cowboy

A little ficlet from The Cardinal's Bride. This takes place in the time they were at the farmhouse but didn't make it into the main story. I'll be doing more drabbles and ficlets for the cowboy universe as the series progresses.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ You and Copia take a moment to relax and have a little picnic.

Warnings: Nothing but fluff here ! (not beta read pls excuse any mistakes)

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

“What’s your favorite flower?”

When Copia didn’t say anything you poked his knee to get his attention. You heard him sigh before he answered you, his words slightly muffled with his hat covering his face.

“Cowboys don’t like flowers.”

You rolled your eyes, picking another dandelion and weaving the yellow flower in amongst the others of your project.

“Well what do they like then? Guns?” When you were met with silence you poked him again, smiling despite his growl. “Horses?”

“Kidnapping annoying city girls.”

He knocked his leg against you, hard enough to make you nearly fall over. With a huff you sat back up and shoved his knee away.

“Kidnap them often, do you?”

“No, they’re a giant pain in the as–hey!”

You pinched his thigh as hard as you could, crossing your arms and matching his glare when he sat up. The sun he had gotten over the last few days had turned his cheeks and nose red. The freckles across his face stood out even more now. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the ones on his shoulders and chest, your cheeks instantly reddening when you did. When he smirked like he could read your mind you huffed and started to turn away, but he easily slid an arm around your waist and kept you close. He plopped his hat on top of your head, chuckling when you started grumbling and reached up to adjust it so you could see him. Oh that smile of his would be the end of you one of these days.

Ethel had encouraged you both to take a few hours to relax that afternoon and before you knew it she had thrust a blanket in your hands and a basket of food into Copia’s. When you wandered out onto the porch you hesitated, but Copia had just nodded his head towards you, seemingly content to take your lead. You were both quiet as he followed you out behind the house and into the field that was now overrun with dandelions. The both of you were mostly silent as you ate and after he was finished Copia had leaned back, covered his face with his hat and seemed to fall asleep. You were tempted to lay back with him, but the peacefulness of the moment had you idly picking at the yellow flowers around you. It wasn’t long before you were weaving them into a flower crown like you used to make as a child.

“What are you making there, Principessa?”

You smiled down at your work, fitting one last dandelion in before holding it up for him to see.

“A flower crown.” When he raised his eyebrow you turned so you could gently set it on top of his head. “There, you look perfect."

He reached up for it but you slapped his hand away, laughing when he narrowed his eyes at you. You adjusted it so it wasn't crooked, leaning back to admire your work. It was hard not to admire Copia as well. A handful of buttons were undone on his shirt and the sight of his chest was always very distracting.

Very, very distracting.

"See something you like?"

You dragged your eyes back up to his face, sighing when you saw his smirk.

"Yes, I like these." You ran a few fingers lightly across the yellow flowers on his head. "Dandelions are my favorite flower."

"Are they?" The arm around your waist tightened and soon you found yourself settled in his lap. "This seems like something I should remember."

With a sigh you leaned against his chest, letting your eyes shut as he held you close.

"Only if you want to."

You felt his hand come up and adjust his hat that was still perched on your head. He moved it enough so that it blocked the sun from your face. He brushed a thumb across your cheek and you felt a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose before he whispered something you could barely hear as you drifted off.

"I want to remember everything."

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

my masterlist

my ao3

#the cardinal's bride #my fics #my writing #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #copia fanfics #cardinal copia fanfics #cowboy copia

107 notes · View notes

her-satanic-wiles · 8 months

Text

October 7th

Stuck In Wall, Sodo/Dewdrop x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Stuck in Wall; Dubcon; dry humping; piv; unprotected sex; trapped reader; semi-public sex; free use?; spanking; cunnilingus; fingering;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man

If you wanna be on the taglist, just reply or shoot me a message. If you want to scream at me, my ask box is also open!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

In a moment of surreal disbelief, you found yourself wedged in the narrow crevice of a wall that seemed to have a sinister appetite for unsuspecting victims. All you wanted was to pick up the pen you dropped. Cosmic punishment for carrying too many things - and your habit not having any pockets. The cold, clammy surface pressed against your body, the rough texture of the bricks biting into your skin as panic surged through your veins. You were the proverbial Tinkerbell in the keyhole. Except your keyhole was a hole in the wall in the middle of Papa Copia’s in-the-process-of-being-refurbished suite. Your Papa was going to kill if you were late for your meeting with him.

“Help!” You called out. Repeatedly. But it didn’t feel like anyone could hear you.

You didn’t know how long you’d been trapped for - your voice was hoarse from calling out so much and you were convinced that you’d be stuck there until the builders came in the morning.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

“Dew! Thank Asmodeus! I thought I was gonna die in here.”

“What the hell happened to you? Papa’s out for blood, you wasted his time!” Swiss’ voice came next.

“Oh shit, how long was he waiting?”

“Long enough.”

“Swiss, please go tell him what happened. I don’t want him to kill me.”

“You want him to kill me instead? I see how it is.”

“No! He wouldn’t. Please, Swiss. Or I’ll have to run away and join a Catholic convent for converted Satanists.”

“Please,” Dewdrop said, “you’d burn up in hellfire before you could even reach the front door.”

“I’ll go, but you owe me.” Swiss told you.

You kicked your legs out. “Yes! Whatever you want, please!”

“Well don’t give me that power.”

And with that, you heard a pair of footsteps walk away and the front door of Copia’s suite shut closed. You were now alone with Dew. “We’d better work on getting you out then, I guess.”

Dew’s firm hands placed on either side of your hips and began to gently pull at them - he didn’t want to hurt you. The only problem was where his hands were placed. Sure, if he pulled hard enough, he could get you out of there with no problem. But the firmness and the placement had a heat pooling between your legs that shouldn’t be there. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been touched in a long time. Maybe it was because you were harbouring feelings for this nameless ghoul. Or maybe it was the action of him pulling you out from a vulnerable position, you weren’t sure. But what you did know was that you wouldn’t be mad at him if certain appendages of his touched certain appendages of yours. You vaguely heard Dew speaking, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“What?” You asked.

“How did this even happen, anyway?”

You explained the situation to him.

“Of course, it would be you.”

The more Dew kept tugging, the more your habit rose up. There was a chill around your now damp panties where they had been exposed to the cold air. You were unsure how much of your underwear he could see, but you knew that you were on display for him.

You were also incredibly unaware of how Dew was feeling at this moment himself. The way that you were bent and exposed to him, the way that you were vulnerable at this very moment. He hated himself for how he was feeling but it was affecting him a lot more than what he wanted it to. And he certainly had no plans in acting on his feelings until his body moved forward a little faster than he wanted and his erection landed on your centre. He closed his eyes in brief relief, but now that he’d felt it once, he was desperate to feel it again.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening at first, that you felt what you felt. Dew was a great guy - one of the best. He wouldn’t take advantage of you like this. Never in a million years would he betray your trust. It must have been an honest mistake and that was the thought you had until it happened again. And again. And again. Each time he was hitting your clothed clit precisely and forcing you to hold back moans. You hand flew to your mouth and you shut your eyes tightly. If he was actually helping you and this was just what bodies did then you couldn’t make it weird. Like when your tattooist is leaning over you and you accidentally touch a part of their body you weren’t supposed to - just the nature of the position you’re in.

That was, of course, until you heard it.

It was quiet, barely there, but it was a groan passing his lips. Definitely a pleasured groan. “Dew, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to hold your own sinful noises back.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Sister. I didn’t mean to but now I can’t stop.” He gripped your hips tighter and rubbed himself against your pussy more confidently now his game was up, and his noises came unabashedly, too. Uncaring whimpers and moans fell from his lips as he orchestrated his pleasure using your body: and it was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced, despite any anxieties you were feeling. Not because you didn’t want this - but because -

“Swiss could be back at any moment! With Papa! We shouldn’t do this.” A few of your own whimpers started escaping.

“No, you’re right,” you heard the zipper of Dew’s jeans unzip followed by some shuffling. You felt your panties being moved to the side, your soaking wet snatch now fully exposed to any passers by. “We really should stop.” His now unmistakably bare cock began to run through your completely naked folds, focusing on your clit as he continued to use you to get himself off. His voice was slow and monotonous as if he were entranced by his feelings. “We should stop.”

When his head brushed over your clit, you let out a particularly loud whine which made him thrust a little more next time. “Please, Dew.” You didn’t know what you were begging for. The logical side of your brain was begging Dew to stop what he was doing and help you get out. But the other side of your brain, the incredibly horny, touch-starved side, was begging him to position himself a little higher and just sink all the way home. Stretch your tight, little pussy out until it had molded to the shape of him.

Dew, however, seemed to take it as the latter request. His cock, now completely slicked up by you, was lined up to your entrance the second he heard your beg, and he began to push in.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Satan have mercy - how are you so big?” You felt like your eyes were going to bulge from their sockets in a rather cartoonish way. “Where did you hide that thing? You’re tiny.”

That remark earned you a harsh slap on your ass cheek. “I wouldn’t be so mouthy if I were you, Sister.” He was now buried all the way to the hilt. “Not when you have no way to save yourself.” He pulled out of you and slammed back in, the force of it ripping a scream from your throat. You heard him laugh from the other side of the wall before doing it again.

“Fucking hell, Dew!”

“You like that?” He spanked you again.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Use your words and I might.”

“Please do it again, Dew! I wanna feel you do it again.”

He groaned. “You’re so pretty when you beg for it, Sister.”

He did it again, a little harder than before and coupled with another spank.

And again.

Dew knew what he was doing, and pulled out every move he had saved to fuck you like you deserved. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sister.” He confessed. His thrusts were so brutal, you could feel the wall shaking every time he entered you.

Soon enough, you felt his thrusts become erratic, and with a quick “cumming!”, he emptied himself into you. “You didn’t cum.” He said mindlessly, his hand coming down on your ass one final time.

He groped your ass cheeks and pushed them up after the hit this time, which caused your labia to spread apart and allowed him to see his own come oozing out of you. He dove into your cunt, slurping his own seed out of you and playing with your delicate clit while his hands continued to pull your body apart. “We can’t have Papa knowing how I just sodomised his personal assistant, can we?” Dew taunted before plunging back in.

Once more, his tongue touched your folds and there was nothing to soften the impact, so you cried out in pain. But as soon as his tongue was on you, it vanished, to be quickly replaced by two fingers prodding at your entrance, pushing in without a fight and starting to work right away. His slender and long fingers curved downward to hit you where you were screaming, taking advantage of your position.

In order to get you to cum before Papa and Swiss arrived, he started to finger you more vigorously, amplifying the squelch of your heat. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink due to the way his fingers were sliding inside of you and how forcefully he sucked on your clit. You eventually came, biting into the knuckles of your fingers to silence the overwhelming need to scream.

That was when you both heard footsteps, and felt Dew’s hands rush to make you decent before the door opened.

“Tesoro!” Papa cried as he entered the room. His voice wasn’t angry, much to your relief. He was desperately concerned. “Topolina, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Still exhausted from your orgasm, you tried your best to reassure your worried Papa that you were mostly okay, save your pride which was incomparably in shatters at the present moment.

Eventually, they got you out of the wall.

But that wouldn’t be the only time you met Dewdrop for a secret rendezvous.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

646 notes · View notes

serene-sun · 2 years

Text

The ghouls and papas search history

Requests are open

Sodo-

🔎 how to not get put in fostercare

🔎 how to send someone to hell

🔎 help I accidentally summoned my dad

Swiss-

🔎 how to get a gf

🔎 how to send a bandmate to fostercare

🔎 my back popped and it sounded expensive

Rain-

🔎 how to convince my papa to let me have a cat

🔎 How much do cats cost

🔎 How to be more manly

Aether-

🔎 help I helped my friend accidentally summon their dad

🔎 how much do 5 pounds of bananas cost

🔎 why is the sky blue

Mountain-

🔎 how much is a plane ticket to Canada

🔎 what teas can grow in winter

🔎 what breed of cat is good for demonic creatures

Papa IV-

🔎 Siri open google

🔎 how to convince my dad to like me

🔎 how to adopt more rats without the government taking them away

#ghost x reader fluff #ghost fluff #ghost copia #ghost band fanfic #nameless ghouls x reader #sodo ghoul x reader #swiss ghoul x reader #aether ghoul x reader #mountain ghoul x reader #rain ghoul x reader #cardinal copia #papa emeritus fluff #copia x reader #serene sun writes

2K notes · View notes

ghostchems · 24 days

Note

polite request for a lil bit of breeding kink Cardi 🥺🫶🏻

(bonus points for him keeping his red cassock on, god I will cream)

about 1.5k words of exactly this. mdni. 18+. ao3 link.

The Cardinal touches the side of your neck with his thumb, stroking gently as he toys with the collar of your habit. He hums as your lips part and a soft sigh escapes them, his hand shifting down to the buttons holding you together. Cheeks are so flushed and you can’t bring yourself to speak. He tilts his head, a dangerous smile playing on his lips as one finger tugs at the top button, easily coming undone. You exhale slowly, getting goosebumps from how his hand slides inside your habit and inches down your chest, popping open the buttons as he goes.This is not how you thought this would go when he first approached you.

“Such smooth skin, tesoro.” Copia purrs and presses a kiss just below your earlobe as he cups your breast in his palm. You give a soft moan and press in closer to him, fists balling into his red cassock against his chest. The need is so strong, the ache between your legs nearly making your knees give out. He told you that you were chosen out of everyone to assist him in this important endeavor for the Ministry and he’s taken such care with you since you’ve accepted. He dips his head lower and nips at the skin where your neck and shoulder meet while he peels away the rest of your habit, letting it drop to the floor. You followed his instructions: you wore nothing underneath. Copia’s hands roam down your curves and grip onto your ass before traveling back up to pinch your nipples, his eyes tracing over your body.

“Lay back on the rug, per favore.” He whispers against your neck. You suck in a sharp breath and nod, pulling away from his soft cassock. Eyes settle on the rug in the center of the room: a pentagram rug. Did he have it specially made for this occasion? Or did he find it in a closet deep in the abbey? It’s soft beneath your bare feet. You lay on the rug, all too aware of how wet you are between your thighs, and keep yourself propped up on your elbows. He has his back to you for a few moments but when he turns you see the offering bowl in his hands.

“*O-oh.* Sorella, you are so perfect.” He’s breathlessly sweet as he kneels in front of you and dips a fingertip into the bowl. You’re burning up, the anticipation building inside you as you spread your legs further for him. The Cardinal’s gaze drops to your cunt and he groans deep in his throat, nearly forgetting the next step of his carefully planned ritual. He clears his throat and lifts his finger from the bowl to begin drawing sigils and symbols on your bare stomach that you barely remember from your studies. “*Nema*.” Copia whispers to himself and closes his eyes for a beat in silent prayer. Something about his extreme care in this situation has you nearly begging for him to fuck you now. He opens his eyes and they meet yours, a shy smile on his face as if he knows what you’re thinking.

“The Morningstar has shone his light on you and I see it, cara mia.” Copia hums as he toys with his cassock until he’s able to unzip his pants and free his already leaking cock. You chew on your lower lip and try to sink closer to him. He leans down and drifts his lips along your hip bone, hot kisses and nips up your stomach as he slot himself between your legs. “You were made for this.” His mouth reaches the curve of your breasts, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin. Impatient. You need him *now*. A hand slips between you and grips his cock, angling it toward your slick entrance. Copia moans against your chest and bucks his hips, the head of his cock pressing inside you. Your arms loop around his shoulders and arch your back as he sinks himself deeper, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m going to fill you up, sorella.” He hisses against you with a forceful thrust. And fill you he does, your walls stretching around him as your eyes flutter shut, mouth open in a silent moan. “Fill you up over and over again until we produce an heir. The savior of the Ministry.” Copia’s nose drifts up your neck, mouthing along your jaw as he curls his arms around you until he’s fully on top, hovering just above your lips. You’re still propped on your elbows but you lift one hand to brush your thumb along his sideburns and then rake your fingers through his soft brown hair. He sighs against your lips as they touch his, melting in a kiss and holding himself in place inside of you. He deepens the kiss as your body relax against him, guiding you on your back until you feel the soft carpet beneath you.

“How beautiful you’ll look while you’re carrying my child…” Copia growls and angles his hips forward to start a slow sensuous pace. You’re blissed out, panting into his mouth while your nails scratch against his scalp. Such expectations and importance has been placed upon you and it’s *overwhelming* but Copia’s words echo through your mind, giving you the confidence to truly indulge. Your heels dig into the back of his thighs and you move your body with his, bringing your hips up to meet each of his thrusts. Low growls and heavy breaths fill your ears, the soft fabric of his cassock sticks to the blood on your stomach, smearing it further along your body. Heat pools in your abdomen, muscles tense in your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“*In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi.”* You choke the words out. A fire lights in the Cardinal’s eyes and his grip on you only tightens, trapping you against his body. He fucks into you with reckless abandon until you’re trembling from the sheer force of him slamming into you. Tears sting your cheeks as you cry out, nails digging into his hair to cling onto him. You think about how Copia is this sweet man with a towering presence in the ministry, a true passion for what he does and how he’s borderline animalistic. His face is back to being buried in the crook of your neck as your head tips back and your body arches into him.

“S-so fucking good, taking my cock while I breed you.” He moans against you, his fingers digging into your back. Your body is set alight by his words, eyes squeezing shut while you choke out a broken sob. Your walls flex and tense around his cock as you come hard, drawing an urgent groan from his lips. In a matter of seconds he’s flooding you with his seed, his thrusts becoming uneven and frantic until they slow to a stop. Haze settles over you as you blink away the tears in your eyes and relax against the plush carpet. Copia pants into your neck as his grip on you loosens. “Stay still, tesoro.” He holds himself inside you, plugging you up for a few more moments before carefully slipping out.

“We… we have to be sure that nothing is wasted.” He sits back on his heels and grabs you by the knees to push them to your chest. You hold your legs in place for him, face still flushed red. Copia’s eyes settle on your cunt, his gloved pointer finger circling your hole as he gathers any cum that has leaked out. You bite back a groan while he pushes it back inside you. Nothing can be wasted. You prop yourself back up on your elbows as he removes his finger, your legs extending with a crack of your knees. He starts to stroke along your hipbones, bringing you back down to Earth.

“*Nema*.” You give a breathy exhale. Lips twitch into a small smile as you finally focus on him, the messy hair and smudged paint, the look of sleepy satisfaction on his face.

“Ah… we will meet here later tonight for another session.” He wipes some of the sweat from his face, smearing the black paint around his eyes further. You nod, arousal already brewing inside you at the thought of him breeding you again. Copia offers a small smile and pulls you into his chest, his arms securely around you. “Thank you. Thank you for embarking on this unholy journey with me, sorella.” He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Lucifer has blessed us.”

#Cardinal Copia #cardinal copia x reader #Copia #uhhhh how do i even tag #Copia request #cardi request #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic

146 notes · View notes

ghulehunknown · 7 months

Text

Papa Headcanons - Thanksgiving

They may not be accustomed to American holidays, but they’re excited to eat food and spend the day with you!

Primo

Falls asleep in front of the TV during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (but grumbles a few times in his sleep “Is it ready yet?”) and doesn’t wake up until the ghouls yell “dinner time!”

Has to take an antacid before eating

Carves the turkey

Mostly only picks the mushy foods to eat (i.e. casseroles) and only eats half his plate

“I’m thankful for all my ghouls, even the least favorite one.”

Hogs and clogs the toilet after

Secondo

Helps by setting the table and running to the store for last minute things that were either forgotten or you ran out of

Makes a surprisingly good roux for the mac n cheese and the gravy

“What is this American shit?” he asks about half the food on the table

Proceeds to eat and enjoy literally everything, except he still can’t get behind the cranberry sauce. “It wobbles.” (Copia’s head pokes up from his plate, mid face-stuffing.)

“I’m thankful for good food and good company” (he would say while holding his glass up to cheer)

Dutifully helps clean up and washes dishes

Terzo

Peels one potato and says “I’m bored” and walks away. You have to finish peeling them. Then he brags about how he made the mashed potatoes. When you tell him off he says, “Okay, well I helped!”

“Why is everything the same color? I’m not eating that. Oh wait, actually…that’s very good…mmm. Can I have some more?”

Compares everything to Italian food and admits you are an amazing cook and could put his nonna to shame (he never met his nonna but he’s not going to tell you that)

“I’m thankful for titties and ass, dongs of every shape and size, and eh - the female orgas-” (gets interrupted by an elbow to the ribcage, courtesy of you)

Says he has to go to the bathroom to avoid having to help clean up and you never see him again until morning

Wakes you up early the next morning to go Black Friday shopping in his Christmas sweater. (“I’ve always been fascinated by this American sport”)

Copia

He’s in charge of the turkey and he’s very nervous and is taking this job very seriously

In fact he barely speaks to anyone all day because he’s busy burning things in the kitchen and sweating on everything. It’s like a scene from Ratatouille, except it’s just his rats running all over the stove and nibbling on the stuffing.

“I’m not even hungry!” as he shovels food in his face

“I’m thankful for my rats, and cheese. And of course, all of you.”

After dinner he runs dishes back and forth from the table to the kitchen until someone forces him to sit down

Passes the fuck out immediately afterwards in front of his video games

Also clogs the toilet (when did he even have time to do that?)

Nihil

Mumbles something about how he tried breeding dogs once while the National Dog Show plays on TV

Has been systematically picking things from the dishes as they’re being prepared so he truly isn’t hungry during the meal and doesn’t eat much on his plate

Complains about how much Copia burned things and that’s why he’s not eating

“I’m thankful for Seestor”

Falls asleep immediately after dinner

235 notes · View notes

deetz-ghuleh · 8 months

Text

Reverence

─ Cardinal Copia x F! Reader ─

rating: 18+ Explicit | MDNI

word count: 3.4k

summary: The Cardinal discovers your dirty little secret and wants you all to himself.

tws/tags: somewhat dom fem reader, nudity, sexual penetration, oral sex, masturbation, submission, praise kink, some humiliation kink, orgasm delay/denial, voyeurism.

a/n: This is my first Ghost fic. I'm so happy I finally finished it! Constructive criticism is welcomed & any likes/comments are appreciated! Also, a huge thank you to @foxybouquet for this amazing post on Italian words/phrases!

AO3 link

tag list: @x1nd1g0x

The small abandoned chapel on the other side of the abbey had been neglected for years. The Cardinal never visited the place, but at the request of Sister Imperator, he sauntered over so they could begin the painstaking process of renovation.

His gloved hands had barely touched the old iron handle when-

“Kneel down. Like a nice little puppy, yes?” You demand, voice full of mischief as Brother Luca whimpered at your feet.

Copia freezes, his eyes widening in surprise as he watches you through a small crack in the wood.

“Yes, yes, Sister ______!” Brother Luca responds, kissing your shoes eagerly. “Please let-let me taste you,” he pleads.

Your unassuming nature in his class never hinted at this. You were the perfect student, among his favorite siblings. So demure and quiet, and now….

Was he dreaming?

“You’ve been such a good boy, Luca,” you purr in his ear, “I guess you deserve your reward.”

Copia exhales, feeling your voice ripple through his whole body as if he was Brother Luca.

Oh, Satanas, you must be some sort of succubus. Yes, you were sent to tempt him, corrupt him, and devour him in the most pleasurable way - something he always wanted, but was too ashamed to admit. His brothers were all domineering, taking what they wanted from women. But not him. He had always been different from them, even with his fantasies. He had dreamed about it many times before - being ravished by a strong, confident woman - dominated and forced to feel the most unbridled pleasure.

Sweat beads on his forehead as he watches you bunch up your habit and sit on the floor with your legs spread open. Brother Luca bends down before you, ready to worship. “Tell me what you want, Luca. Beg for it.” You instruct.

“Please, please, Sister _____. I want-need your pussy in my mouth,” Luca whines desperately, begging at the altar of your lust.

Me too. Oh please, me too, sorella. Copia pleads internally, palming himself as beads of precum accumulate at his tip. He was enraptured.

You give a signal of approval to Luca, and he lunges forward like a madman, licking at your folds as if it was his only means of sustenance. You arch your back, moaning softly as he buries his face inside your dripping cunt. Your hands grip his hair tightly and your hips buck upwards to ride his face.

The gasps and moans emanating from your lips drive Copia wild. Every fiber of his being wants to open the door and take Luca's place, but he resists. He resists so much that it's painful. His eyes shut close. He pictures himself licking you, matching his rhythm to the delicious sounds you’re making. He wants so badly to release his throbbing length, but he prolongs the torture by only squeezing it through the heavy fabric of his cassock. He tries to keep his short, sharp breaths at a minimum to not be heard, but your moans get louder, and so does his arousal. He quickly unbuttons a small part of his cassock, just enough to fist his length.

Luca starts circling your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself close to the edge, the pressure building so beautifully in your core. “Don’t… fucking…stop,” you request through a breathless moan. A few more licks and your walls clench around his mouth. Your squeal ricochets off the chapel’s walls and, with a loud groan, he savors your slick like a frantic man dying of thirst.

Your cries of pleasure ring in Copia’s ears. He bucks his hips, groping his length in a maddening haze as ropes of cum spill onto the inside of his underwear.

Lost in his desire, he accidentally knocks the door open, catching eyes with you for a brief moment before panicking and scurrying out into the courtyard.

—

You knew it would happen eventually. Doing it outdoors, even in a secluded place, was begging to get caught. You weren’t embarrassed though. You knew the Ministry celebrated sin. There was no shame in the act itself. But for the shy, awkward Cardinal to have been the one? It made your insides tingle. He had actually seen you... exposed, being pleasured, moaning. And it had been obvious to you, in that tiny moment when you locked eyes, that he had enjoyed it. That alone turned you on immensely.

His cock twitches involuntary when he sees your name on his list of students. His need had only grown since he saw you. He got little sleep, pumping his cock several times throughout the night to the point of overstimulation. Your sordid gasps and moans still echoed in his mind. He wasn’t one to lose control or become obsessive, but felt like he was slowly teetering over that precipice. He wanted nothing more than to be engulfed in your flame, to be used and abused by you. But how? Will you even want to? His mind swam with endless questions and doubts. And like many times before, his inner voice made him feel like a pathetic, old pervert. Insecurity had plagued him his whole life. This wasn't any different.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself for the day's lesson. He was still a senior clergy member, a leader, and he needed to conduct himself as such.

He begins writing on the chalkboard. “Ok, so uhh, sí, um, today we will talk about the rise of Satanism during the Dark Age-"

From his peripheral, he sees you walk in and sit down. You were so unbelievably perfect, un bellissimo angelo (a beautiful angel). So, so close.

It wasn't uncommon for him to stutter or trip over his words during class, but everyone noticed he was a bit more nervous than usual.

“Cardinal?” A concerned sibling on the other side of the classroom calls to him.

Her voice quickly snaps him out of his trance. He must have been staring at the wall for longer than he realized. “Sí, sí, mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I-I didn’t get much sleep last night,” he answers awkwardly, slowly turning to the class, trying his damnedest to not look at you. “Uh, how about we end a little early today, ok? We can continue tomorrow.” He hated ending his classes prematurely, but today called for it. He would’ve been a mumbling mess otherwise.

He sighs deeply, sitting back on his chair as everyone starts making their way out the door. He closes his eyes, pinching his brow with his fingers in frustration.

Get a hold of yourself, idiota. She’s just…

His eyes fly open when he realizes you haven't left.

Your eyes were fixed on him, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

Some invisible force must have pinned his lower limbs to the chair because he couldn’t feel his legs. Your gaze was like a magnet, pulling him farther and farther away from his sanity. His throat tightened in response.

“Did you like it, Cardinal?” You tease.

He was dumbstruck. The only thing he could do was tightly clench his thigh as his heart beat erratically and his cheeks flushed as red as his cassock.

You stroll casually over to him, planting your hands on his paper-strewn desk, only a few inches away from his face. “I asked you a question, Cardinal.” You chided him.

His brain was desperately trying to form a coherent thought. “Sorella, I-I…." He stutters.

“Yes?”

His monochrome eyes trace over your delicate features. Your sweet, soft lips were begging to be kissed. He knows the slightest touch from you would drive him mad. You had unfurled a feeling buried deep within him, and this was finally his chance to succumb to you.

“Yes.” He answers, his leather-clad hand reaching over to grip yours. “Ti voglio così tanto (I want you so much),” he confesses in a hushed voice. “Please, sorella…”

"Please what, Cardinal?" You ask, a hint of mischievousness in your voice. You wanted him to say it.

He averts his eyes briefly, trying to find the right words. "Tesoro (Darling), I-I want all of you. I want to serve you. Would-will you let me?"

You give him a sly smile and slowly walk around the desk. “You were a bad boy last night, Cardinal, hm?”

He gulps down his nervousness and manages to answer, his voice almost a whisper. “Ye-yes, sorella, I was-”

“You touched yourself, didn’t you?”

This is the closest you’d been to him. Your heated gaze was turning his mind into soup.

His puppy-eyed look almost made you feel bad about torturing him this way.

You clutch his shoulders and push your body against his. His head nuzzles against your chest. You can hear his staggered breathing as you remove his biretta and gently purr in his ear. “Tell me, Cardinal. Tell me what you did after you saw me.”

His eyes close in delight, inhaling your scent. It was verging on desperate how badly he wanted to bury himself within you.

“I-I couldn’t stop,” he answers, seeking the warmth of your skin, “I kept going until it hurt.”

You grab his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were so gentle. He had always been kind to you. It made you want to make him blush even more.

You trail your fingers down to his bulge, loving how he shudders at your touch. “Show me, Cardinal.”

He unbuttons his cassock at a frenzied pace. A gasp of relief leaves his lips as his aching cock springs free, red and leaking with pre-cum. “Senti che duro che sono per te (Feel how hard I am for you).”

Without warning, you tightly grip his hair, pushing his head back. You squeeze his cock and a needy whimper escapes him. “Like this?” You ask, pumping him with a skilled rhythm. His jaw goes slack and his eyes roll to the back of his skull.

“Look at me, Cardinal,” you instruct sternly. “Be a good boy for me, yes?"

Good boy. Two words that go straight to his pulsing cock.

You continue your ministrations, your beautiful eyes peering into his duochrome ones with each stroke. He would take any and all punishments if it meant being with you like this, relinquish his soul if that's what it took. He craved this touch, this affection. Perhaps it was a symptom of being too damn lonely, but he felt wanted, needed.

His breath hitches, and you know he’s closing in on his climax. “You are not allowed to cum until I tell you, Cardinal.” You instruct gently, your own ache slowly building at hearing his moans.

Hungry to please you, he tries hard to keep himself from release, but knows he won't last long, not like this. "Sorella, please-please, I'm-I'm so..." he pants breathlessly, murmuring Italian words you can’t quite make out.

"Good boys get rewarded, right, Cardinal?" You ask, each word in tandem with a deliberate stroke.

Feeling his body start to shake, you get on your knees, ready to take his cock into your mouth. “Cum now. Cum for me, Cardinal.”

The euphoria of your mouth is so intense that he nearly falls off the chair towards you, inhaling sharply as his hips jolt against your face. You catch his thighs and keep him still as he fills your throat with his spend, pulling a loud growl from his chest.

Trying to catch his breath, he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and disheveled hair. “Cara, you truly are a gift from Lucifer below.”

You grace him with a thankful smile and stand up.

In a flash, he's on his knees, his gloved hand pulling up the lower part of your habit, fingers caressing your legs. "Let me taste you, dolcezza. Per favore (please)." He begs, planting eager kisses on your thigh.

You move away from his grasp, walking to the center of the classroom. As you turn, your ass pushes against one of the wooden desks. With a curled finger, you beckon him. “Crawl to me, eyes down on the floor.”

As if by instinct, he positions himself on his hands and knees and begins to crawl his way over to you. You rub your thighs together, trying to get some friction. Seeing the Cardinal like this because of you was titillating. Your pussy was already so wet for him.

Reaching your shoes, he kisses them without question, waiting for your instruction. The anticipation is beautifully torturous.

“Taste me, Cardinal.”

Your voice is like a jolt to his system. Ravenous kisses and soft bites fall on your legs, moving up your thighs. You help him by gathering up your habit to give him better access. Unmatched irises reach yours, blown wide open with lust. He can feel the heat emanating from your core, mimicking his own. With one hand, he pulls down your panties with ease, still looking up at you with adulation.

He stands, rubbing your lips with his thumb for a few seconds before placing feather-like kisses across your neck and collarbone. Goosebumps slide across your skin, and for a moment, you fall into a tenderness you didn’t know you needed. Without you noticing, he expertly removes the leather gloves from his hands and tosses them aside.

Delicately, his hand finds your wetness, and a finger slides in between your slit. You gasp at the feeling, tilting your head backward, the chair behind you slightly dragging across the floor. His other hand pushes your chest down to lay your back upon the desk, keeping you safe and steady in his hold. He splays your thighs open, just the way he had seen you in the chapel.

“Que belleza (How beautiful)…” he whispers, taking in the sight of your glistening pussy.

The aroma of your arousal has his mind spinning, the need to fuck you senseless had been digging into his skin and traveling up his spine incessantly. But he has you here now, displayed before him like he wanted, unrestrained, and he would take his time.

He tugs at your hips to keep you still, licking his lips slowly. His tongue finally slips between your folds, making you moan and arch your back, spreading your legs even further for him. He adds another finger, delving in as deep as possible, curling up towards that divine spot inside you.

He laps at your folds, making you mewl against his tongue. Expert fingers slid in and out your opening and you grit your teeth as he indulges in teasing your clit in the most sinful way.

Your nerves are on fire as he continues his assault on your sensitive nub, giving you no reprieve and peeling away any inhibition you were holding onto for fear of being heard. “Fuc-fuck, Copia!” You cry, fingers digging into his scalp.

Your calling of his name makes him speed up even more, a pleased groan escaping him as he hastily drinks your slick like a sweet nectar.

“Vieni per me, bella. Vieni per it tuo cardinale (Cum for me, beautiful. Cum for your Cardinal).” He coos against your pussy.

That’s all it took for you to explode in his mouth, tightening around his fingers, almost clenching his head between your thighs. The orgasm makes your bones feel like jelly.

As you come down from your high, he caresses your face. You notice his eye-makeup is smeared and almost gone. “Let’s go to my bedroom, dolcezza. So I could worship you properly, si?” He asks. The warmth in his words catches you off guard even in your post-orgasm haze. It was so different from any of your previous encounters - most of them filled with careless lust and immediate gratification.

You give him a nod, and he carries you bridal style to his suite. You cozy up against the curve of his neck, and for the first time, you feel loved, not just desired. Whether it was your brain being flooded with serotonin or a lie you wanted to believe, you didn’t know, but it felt so nice to surrender to him, and you don’t want it to end.

Carefully, he lays you down on his bed, freshly cleaned sheets welcoming you as you relax your softened limbs. Your eyes scan the room briefly, curious to know where the Cardinal spent his private time. You could see dark wooden furniture, numerous texts, a small cage with rats? It was hard to decipher in the darkness of the room with only a few candles. Perhaps another day.

As you close your eyes momentarily, you feel his fingers traveling up and down your skin. The tickle of his mustache and a small kiss on your shoulder make you turn to look at him. His ghostly eye glimmers beautifully in the dim lighting.

You stand upright to remove your veil and habit. He helps to unclasp your bra, eyes widening in awe of your naked form. “Bellissima…" he says in a silken voice.

He removes the rest of his garments, and before you can see all of him, he passionately draws your lips to his. A faint hint of fruitiness (apple?) and cologne hits your nostrils. You had not kissed his lips yet through all of this, you thought, and the love behind it makes you blush.

You curl your arms around his back to bring him closer on top of you. He pins you down with the weight of his body, hips rutting against you while half-painted lips shower you with heated, urgent kisses. His hand moves down to fumble with your clit, making you wriggle beneath him. A rush of heat pools in your core, and all you can think about is him devouring you.

“I’m going to fuck you now, tesoro. Perdonami (forgive me), but I can’t wait anymore,” he whispers huskily.

He brushes the tip of his cock a few times against your slickness. With a sharp thrust, he sinks into your tight warmth, drawing out a strangled cry from your lips and making you clutch the sheets beneath you. A pang of guilt blooms in his chest - he had tried so hard to be gentle, take his time, and now the only thing he wanted was to ruin you. He wanted you too much, selfishly.

Your eyes close tightly as he buries himself impossibly deep within you, his cock angled to hit that perfect spot within you, as if he had known your body all his life. Your heart pounds violently alongside each movement, making you fall into a fiery abyss with him.

Impassioned, he pulls himself upwards to yank your hips against his cock repeatedly, his fingers digging into your waist with bruising intensity. Every inch sends waves of pleasure through bone and muscle. He kneads at your breasts and pinches your nipples, his eyes darkening with increased lust and adoration. It's intoxicating.

“Cazzo (Fuck), bella!! I can't....get...enough..." he pants above you, pistoning in and out of your quivering pussy.

As you scream affirmations, he pulls out of you briefly, making you whine wantonly. He lowers himself to lick up your seam with his tongue, knowing it will send you over the edge. "I love seeing you like this, sorella...” he says, while swirling circles on your clit. The sensation is all-consuming, making you legs shake uncontrollably.

"Copia, please!" You cry out to him into the darkness, feeling the band in your core about to snap. You want to feel all of him, utterly, completely.

He rises again and plunges into you easily, filling you up to the hilt and eliciting a needy, shuddering gasp. Feeling your fluttering hole tightening around his cock, he thrusts in and out of you with abandon, his hips pressed flush against yours. "Let go for me, amore, let go." He roars above you.

You fall over the edge as he rips the orgasm from you, lips parting with a squeal as you clench your walls around his cock. The keen sound makes its way out into the hallway and you know someone must have heard it. Your release ignites his own, and he pounds into your wet pussy wildly, growling in ecstasy as he spills himself inside you with staggered thrusts.

Exhausted, he collapses on top of you, chest rising and falling. A subtle peace imbues you when you feel the movement of his breathing against your own.

After a few minutes, he rolls over to your side, and you cuddle against his neck.

“You called me amore...” You say, almost timidly, playing with the little hairs on his chest.

“Si, you liked it?”

"Yes." You smile, connecting your fingers with his.

"Stay with me tonight, dolcezza?"

"I'd love nothing more, Copia."

✦ 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 and want to support me, please consider leaving comments, kudos, or reblogging my posts. :) ✦

♡

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost the band #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia #ghost band #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfic #ghost band fic #my writings #my fics

247 notes · View notes