#old papa nihil x reader

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hey! Can you please write headcanons about all the papas with a S/O who gets angry pretty easily. Like something small happens and the S/O is ready to throw hands.

Thank you <3

Anytime :D <3 - Nyx

Papas with an S/O who gets angry easily

Primo

It was the final straw when you knocked over the potted plant. It fell to the floor and smashed, soil going everywhere, the plant laying there helpless.

You shouted angrily, and kicked a bit of the cracked teracota.

"Amore" Primo says calmingly. "It's alright, it does not matter."

He scoops up the plant and carefully places it in a fresh pot, dropping in the soil to cover its roots.

"See? No harm done." He sees that you're still frustrated, so he pulls you to him, stroking you hair and muttering soothing words.

A ghoul has already cleaned up the broken pot and soil by the time he releases you.

Primo sits you down and makes a pot of tea, he'll ask if there is anything else bothering you. He listens to you as you finally admit what is really going on. So many things have built up.

"It will pass, when you reach my age you realise that. All things good and bad will come to an end. So this, amore, will also pass."

His presence is already calming anyway, so it doesn't take long for you to calm down.

If you ever get annoyed at him, he'll be so calm and gentle with you it's almost impossible.

He'll ask how he can sort things out to see you happy again and then he'll make it happen. Or if it's something you've misunderstood or anything like that, he'll just talk it through with you.

Mind you he's not a push-over, if you go too far you'll see a little glimpse of his dark side, just enough to end the argument there and then. It's the look in his eye as he asks you to leave him alone until you calm down that just stops you.

Secondo

You were on a night out when it happened. They were rude, they pushed past you to get to the bar, knocking the drink from your hand.

Thankfully nothing spilt on you, but you blood boiled and you snarled at them "watch where you are going."

They arrogantly told you to "watch where you are going." You could feel your hands balling into fists.

"Buy them a new drink." Secondo appeared next to you looking terrifying. The person stood there stunned. "Apologise properly, and get them another drink."

Once the situation was over Secondo took you aside, and let you vent about how inconsiderate the person had been.

He will always be there to back you up no matter what. If you are angry, he's got your back. He won't let things escalate unless the situation demands it. In which case he's thrown the first punch before you get a chance.

If you ever shout at him he'll just raise an eyebrow and wait for you to calm down. He chooses not to lose his temper with you because when he snaps, he snaps. But afterwards he'll have a discussion about whatever was said, and you work things out that way.

If he thinks you've said anything unfairly to him while in a rage he will address that. "Now then cara, it's not true is it that I ignored you all day. You know that's not what it was. I was working. But if you miss me that much, we can go out together now" He'll hold his arms out to you as you mutter an apology.

Terzo

"Tesoro, what is wrong? Come here, come to Papa and tell me" He holds his arms out for you and pulls you onto his lap. Stroking your hair, and calming you even as you protest.

He eventually gets you to tell him what's wrong. An ex friend of yours has been nasty, and you went to punch them. But then you knew you couldn't so you just stormed off and now you feel like you should have.

"Amore, do you want Papa to go and sort it out?"

You mumble that it's okay, you can defend yourself. But he insists on coming with you.

Terzo rips the person to pieces just with his words. He gives them such a dressing down for treating you badly that they never try anything again.

If you are angry at him he might make a joke to try and defuse the situation with humour. Which just annoys you more. So he just claims he made you angrier on purpose. Because he wanted you to get it out of your system.

Sometimes his jokes work and you end up laughing. There is no way you can stay angry at him and he just grins.

His other approach when someone really annoys you is to take you to the gym.

He'll pass you some boxing gloves and put the pads on. He then holds them up and says "Imagine these are the persons face, hit these, amore. As hard as you can"

Copia

If you aren't too angry, just on the verge of it, he'll distract you with his rats.

If you shout at him, he'll look shocked and miserable. You can't, you just cannot be angry with this man so you stop instantly and hug him.

"Calmed you down, sì?" he'll say with a small smile like it was intentional.

He hates seeing you angry so he'll get you to talk about it.

"What has happened at work today, cara?" He asks all concerned as you storm into the room.

You angrily tell him something went wrong and you wasted an hour on useless crap.

He'll let you rant about it for as long as you need while cuddling you until you calm down a bit. He will also try and help you find a solution. "How about I help with some of your work tomorrow, sì? make up for lost time, eh?"

He kisses you softly "That's better amore, just breathe, just be in the moment here with me."

"Papa will stay here with you as long as you need." He holds you close to him. He is incredibly soothing and comforting.

The anger just melts out of you when you are in his embrace.

Old Nihil

He's too old to really get angry. Like, he can say harsh words and wave his arms around. But he just doesn't have the energy to lose his temper properly like he did when he was younger.

No matter how furious you get, he'll just sit there, staring at you lovingly.

"Oooh siiibblliiing your rage... it only makes you more beautiful... It lights up your eyes... I can almost see the flames of hell dancing within them..." He sighs happily.

That actually stops you in your tracks, your earlier infuration at him for not meeting you for lunch fading.

But you are still upset so you repeat again, slower, slightly more calmly that he stood you up.

It's like he suddenly sees how upset you actually are, it's more sadness that will get through to him than rage. "Oh... I am sorry, did we have a lunch planned?"

He holds his arms out wide "Let me hug you instead. I can show you how sorry I am, yes?"

And that is how you ended up snuggled against him for the rest of the day, watching movies.

Young Nihil

I mean... he's a hot head.

Something annoys you, he'll get just as annoyed.

If it was an object that had caused the anger, then Nihil will definitely join in smashing it up.

Like the time when the thing you were trying to fix just would not fucking work. No matter what you did.

So seeing you get frustrated and hit the thing, he picks up a hammer, walks over and whacks it. He then just grins at you.

"Go on, babe, you try." he hands the hammer to you, you then hit it. It's very cathartic. You giggle at the way he just came over and smashed the thing without even saying a word. You both enjoy absolutely destroying the thing, it's definitely broken now.

You shout, he'll shout at whoever or whatever it is that has pissed you off.

He'll be straight there by your side, ready to throw hands.

So Dark Lord help anyone that pisses you two off.

If you shout or get angry at him... it's going to be one hell of an argument.

You are both exhausted by the end of it, stood facing each other, breathing fast with your faces flushed. He stops short of saying anything else and just looks at you, how hot you look when you are furious.

"It's not worth it, babe" He'll growl. "Not when you're so enchanting, a temptress sent to me by the Dark Lord himself."

If you are up for it, then it normally ends in very passionate, enjoyable makeup sex.

~

Written by Nyx

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @lunarsromantichomicide @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @copiaspowderedjizz @dio-niisio @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary @thatoddboy @strawberriiblossoms

#anon #ghost band x reader #ghost bc #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iv #primo #papa emeritus i x reader #primo x reader #papa nihil #young papa nihil x reader #young papa nihil #young nihil #papa nihil x reader #old papa nihil x reader #old papa nihil #secondo x reader #secondo #terzo x reader #terzo #copia #copia x reader #ghost headcanons #ghost band #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader

[egonspenglerishot]

✨☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒ 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒏𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 ༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆✨

Oh…OK!

Warning: NSFW

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You weren’t actually a new new sister of sin but you were the first one to be assigned as nihils personal assistant. The robes you were distinguished you from the rest, as they were a deep rich red with white and gold embroidery. They were also more suggestive, according to Sister Imperator it would motivate are old man more.

And that it did. Nihil did his work more quickly and surprisingly more efficiently. It didn’t help that Imperator had chosen you, the one sister that had snapped him from his daydream of Imperator and filled that gap of daydreaming.

You were currently under his desk sucking him off gently as he did paperwork. His grip on his pen tightened as you deep throated him, gagging as he thrust his hips lightly. He put his breathing mask over his face. You pulled away and straddled his lap, having taken your undergarments off earlier.

As you lowered yourself onto him he filled you with his seven inches of satanic panic and clutched at his oxygen mask. You let out a low moan as you began bouncing on his seven inches and gripped the desk.

What he wouldn’t give to be younger and just bend you over this desk fucking you senseless. Of course you wouldn’t allow him to.

“O…oh gosh Mia cara Così buono”

You moaned, loving it when he spoke Italian. That was always a turn on for you. As you bounced faster chasing your orgasm Nihil gripped your hips and whispered filthy things into your ears, what he would do if he was younger, how he would mark you as his. All it took was him telling you he’d breed you and you came him following shooting his load deep inside you.

#the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost #old papa nihil x reader #peepaw Nihil #slutty reader #papa nihil

[vanaglori-ah]

a treatment for loneliness

the hallways were fraught with the echoes of groans. they sounded annoyed, pained. and between them, you could hear sniffles. was someone...crying? to be fair, lots of crying happened within the clergy. usually some turbulent relationships or a family member crying at the realization that they couldn’t drag their relative out of the clergy, trying to convince them how horrible it was to abandon everyone for a blasphemous religion. but this one sounded different. and with your cleaning duties fulfilled, you were free to check.

you followed the noise, noticing that most people walked by without much of glance to the room. the door was ajar and you peeked in before gently pushing it open. “papa.”

he looks up. “oh.” he blows into the tissue. “come in, come in.” he coughs and recomposes himself. “what can i do for you?”

you look around the room, eyes flicking to each corner before closing the door behind you. “it’s nothing much papa. i just wanted to come check on you.” you smile. “you sounded upset.”

“upset?” nihil scoffs albeit you can see the tear stains, evident with his messy face paint. “i am not upset.”

you raised an eyebrow. “papa, i understand. i’ve had many relationship troubles. you don’t always forget your first.”

“i am papa though.” he lays back down in his bed. “fumbling is not my thing.”

“we are all only human papa.” you walk over to the side of the bed. a piece of paper catches your eye and you pick it up. nihil looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t. “dance macabre? a rather interesting title. but this wasn’t part of seven inches of satanic panic.”

“it was a work in progress that i threw out. maybe it can be used for something else.” he says.

“sounds a bit like a lonely piece.”

“it isn’t.” he glares at you.

“was it for sister imperator?” you watch as he looks away, sheepish.

“that ship has sailed.”

you fold up the song and tuck it away within your clothes. “i understand you and sister have history. and that breakups whether it’s with friends or partners can be hard. it can be lonely.”

“i am not lonely!” nihil crosses his arms across his chest.

“it’s okay to admit you are.” you sit on the bed. “besides, you’re not really alone. not when you have...me, and the clergy, and our dark eminence.”

“i guess you’re right.” he sighs, looking back at you. “sometimes i wish lucifer would just...strike out that feeling of loneliness. take it away.”

“i’m not lucifer,” you move towards him. he looks at you curiously. “but i have an...idea.” you lick your lips.

he catches on easily. “oh?” he smirks.

“it’s temporary. but it works, you know. and i don’t think sister will catch us either.”

your start with the gentle sensation of your fingers, letting them graze his cheeks. he shivers, eyes closing. he blocks out everything in his mind, focusing solely on the feeling of your skin. it was easy. he did this often while attending to the altar and praying. your fingers trail along his jawline, against his neck, and then down his chest. “do you want me to continue papa?”

“yes. please continue.”

your discard your shoes before climbing onto the bed and on top of his body. you kiss his cheek and he giggles. “tickles.” he mutters.

you trail kisses along his jawline, going down further along his neck and then reaching his chest. with your hands free, you grip onto his thighs and rub circles into the muscle using your thumbs. he shivers and your hands move upwards, closer to his crotch. your lips are at his stomach and you tug at the fabric using one of your hands.

a shaky moan escapes nihil’s lips, a hand gripping onto the headboard. his nails scratch into the wood.

“hallowed be thy name.”

#kind of wrote this with young nihil in mind #but it also can apply to old nihil #whichever one you guys want #ngl the idea for this fic came from old nihil #the band ghost #ghost bc #papa nihil #papa emeritus zero #papa nihil x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader

[lilspacewolfie]

Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

He will anyway. 

Chronic worrier, especially given his age. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits. 

You can squeeze his hand if you want. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fluids are important (wink-wonk).

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

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

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

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

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

He’s a big, brooding mother hen. 

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

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

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

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

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

Tries his best to make you feel relaxed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will linger outside the door in case you need anything. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terzo. Oh, Terzo. 

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

Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When you go in he’s pacing the halls.

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

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

Let him touch you. Just let him. 

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

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

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

Maybe he’ll hum some songs too. 

You’re his everything. 

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away. 

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

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

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

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

Paces a lot. 

Good luck getting him to sit still. 

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

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

Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.  

He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles. 

All that stress tires him out. 

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

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

You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.

The angle is a bit awkward. 

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

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

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

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

Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breakfast in bed when you wake up.

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

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

He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong. 

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

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

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

Inwardly it's chaos. 

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

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

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

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

So. Many. Kisses. 

This man loves kissing you. He adores you so. 

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

Finally lets himself cry. 

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

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

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

Eventually relents because you both know you need this. 

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

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

You both sleep like the dead.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

#ghost #the band ghost #papa emeritus i #primo #papa emeritus i x reader #primo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo x reader #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #gender neutral reader

[ghulehunknown]

Mistletoe’d: Papa Emeritus III x F Reader

“Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

**WARNING - NSFW CONTENT - MDNI**

Summary: After the Ministry Christmas party, you join Terzo in his bedchamber for some festive activities.

CW/Tags: characters drinking alcohol, established relationship, clothed female nude male, blowjob, penetrative sex (P in V), condom use, cunnilingus, face-sitting, face fucking

Word Count: 4381

Available on AO3! Primo | Secondo | Terzo | Copia

Author’s Note: This is the third day of the four-part series XXXmas at the Ministry, a collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat, @molly-ghuleh, and @bupia - please read their works too!

Happy Hornidays! ❄️

xoxo, the Naughty Ghulehs 💋

Primo | Secondo | Copia

A HUGE thank you to AlexandrMcQueer on Twitter for the accompanying artwork! Check out the full NSFW version on her account.

Tonight was finally the night of the annual Ministry Christmas party, and Christmas Eve. Papa needed your help to pull everything off, so all week you were scheduling with the bakers, the cooks, the cleaning crew, and decorating.

But after this evening, you could relax. Well, aside from tending to Papa’s needs and making sure the ghouls didn’t get too soused that it ruined their unholiday in the morning. But after the party, you could enjoy the festivities.

Everyone began milling about and socializing in the main hall, picking at the large charcuterie spread and ladling punch or eggnog into glasses. It looked like everyone from the Clergy was there. Even Imperator and Nihil showed up, though they did not seem too sociable, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Primo immediately sat himself in one of the few chairs scattered around the hall with a large mug of something warm.

Suddenly the ghouls began whooping and you turned your head to see Terzo enter in a lavish looking Santa suit - it was made of crushed red velour with flecks of red sparkles and appeared to be trimmed with white feathers.

“Nice suit, Terzo,” you quipped, eyeing him up and down as he approached you.

“That’s Papa Claus to you, principessa,” he said with a snarky grin and giving you a smooch on the lips. “And you’re Santa’s little helper.”

That you were. He’d ordered you the shortest green elf dress, although the skirt was more like a tulle tutu. The outfit was a whole ensemble, complete with an elf hat with ears, pointy shoes with bells on the end, and candy cane patterned tights. You felt ridiculous, but ’tis the season.

Everyone was in their best holiday attire - anything from ugly Christmas sweaters to formal wear. The ghouls were all dressed in elf costumes, with the exception of Dew, who was dressed as Rudolph - an antler headband fitted over his mask and a red nose strapped to the front of his mask.

Cardinal Copia was wearing an old Saint Nick red and gold cloak over his red cassock, and a poorly made attachable white beard. Secondo was dressed in an all black 3 piece suit that had a subtle fleur de lis pattern, and was chatting with one of Primo’s ghouls.

The night went on, and you were actually managing to have fun. The ghouls turned one of the snack tables into a flip cup station (much to your dismay as you shuffled the catering staff carrying fresh trays of food back into the kitchen) and several of the Siblings started Christmas karaoke, with a very drunk-looking Copia taking the lead.

Terzo flitted between you and the rest of the guests, chatting with various Clergy members (and skillfully dodging Imperator each time). He snuck up behind you, squeezing your ass.

“Make sure these old fucks are having fun, eh?” he said lowly in your ear, nodding backwards to the senior members of the Clergy.

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” you said, one eyebrow raised, his hand still under your skirt.

He winked at you, handing you a bottle of opened bourbon before cupping your ass cheek in his hand and rubbing it. “We’ll cheers soon, then I can have you all to myself.” He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

He clapped you on the ass then darted between people again. “Everybody - eggnog!” he shouted towards the crowd, raising his arms up. He was herding everyone to the center. You thought you might die on the spot from your cheeks burning red, but everyone was paying attention to him - thank Satan.

As everyone poured themselves another glass and gathered, you went around and splashed a bit of bourbon in everyone’s cup.

“Some bourbon for your eggnog, Cardinal?” you asked Copia, approaching him with the bottle.

“Eh, none for me,” he said, hiccuping and covering his glass. “It’s strong enough as it is! I’ve had th-three already.”

“It’s nonalcoholic, Cardinal,” you responded, blinking at him. He looked puzzled and walked away.

You made your way over to Primo who was almost snoozing in his chair. “Papa Primo?” you asked, holding the bottle out, gesturing towards his half empty mug. You weren’t sure if he was dressed like Scrooge on purpose or if those were just his pajamas but he mumbled something that sounded like “Bah,” and shook his head swiftly, the tassel at the end of his nightcap swinging around.

Everyone was standing in a semicircle around Terzo, who for once seemed just slightly lost for words. “Well, uh - shit,” he began, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. “I do not know what else to say, other than it’s been a fucking great year. We had two fantastic tours, and we’ll be continuing into next year… I, eh - met someone very dear.” He glanced at you briefly before continuing. “We won a motherfucking Grammy…!”

The ghouls whooped and cheered while the Siblings and other Clergy members clapped. You glanced over in the corner. Even Imperator seemed pleased - maybe.

“Sì, sì it has been phenomenal. You should all be very pleased with yourselves. So pleased in fact I think you should all celebrate, in eh, whatever means you choose to do. And if I do not see you all before the New Year, have an unblessed holiday. Now, we toast! Tomorrow morning we will celebrate our Savior’s birth. But for tonight, we sin.” He held up his glass and the others did the same. “To Lucifer!”

“To Lucifer,” you said, chiming in with a chorus of voices. You swallowed your bourbon-eggnog concoction - mostly bourbon by your heavy hand, you found as you winced slightly, the liquor burning down your throat. You didn’t drink much and this was your first holiday gathering at the Ministry. Next month would mark your first full year here, and the first time you laid eyes upon him - your Terzo.

“Eh, see you next year, Papa!” piped up Copia, still hiccuping as he nodded and ducked out of the crowd. You smiled at the Cardinal’s little joke. Terzo stopped in his tracks for just a moment and acknowledged Copia before walking away.

He rolled his eyes as he walked towards you then his face brightened. “Hello,” he said, standing very close to you.

“Hi, Papa,” you said, smiling at him and holding up the last bit of bourbon, swishing it in the bottle. “Saved the last for you.”

“Mmm,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. “How much? I need to keep my stamina for later.”

You took a swig and shuddered - Satanas, you still couldn’t drink straight liquor. “Not much now.” He chuckled at you and took the bottle from your hand, knocking back the rest. You coughed a couple of times and reached for some party punch, completely forgetting the one you reached for also had alcohol and coughed again.

He patted you soothingly on the back and asked, “Are you okay, tesorina?”

You nodded, finally grabbing the nonalcoholic punch and chugging some.

“Will Papa have to take care of his little elf this evening?” he said, trailing the back of his index finger over your cheek.

“No, Papa,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’ve barely had anything.”

“Good. I have a surprise for you tonight, amore.”

“Hm. Any hint?” you asked coyly.

“Not a fucking clue. Come to my room in five minutes just as you are.” He picked up a handful of hard candies from the snack table and popped a few in his mouth, staring at you while walking backwards a few paces before turning around and heading down the hall.

You continued to mingle with the other Siblings, trying hard to conceal your blushing cheeks but to no avail.

“Someone’s excited about something,” one said.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured.

“Come on - spill!”

“Well, Terzo and I -”

“Terzo?” said another.

“Oooooh!” the others said in a singsong tone almost in unison.

“He said he has a surprise for me, in his room.”

“So you graduated from office visits to home visits now?” asked the first Sibling, looking impressed.

“Well…I’ve seen his bedroom a few times,” you said, not willing to divulge the full truth just yet. You’d been spending most of your nights in his room and sneaking back into the Siblings’ quarters early in the morning. Even though each Sibling had their own room, you knew your Sisters would hear the door to the suite open.

“I think this is the most serious he’s been with anyone,” said the second Sibling. “I’ve been here a few years and usually he’s done with his fling after two months. But you’ve stuck around.” You shook your head, not willing to believe this hype only to be let down. You just wanted to live in the moment and enjoy what you had with Terzo. “You should go - you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

You smiled and bid your fellow Siblings goodbye as they all made lewd gestures to imitate various sex acts and waved you off, wishing you luck.

You walked down the silent and dark corridors, passing ghouls and Siblings alike shrouded in the shadows to have their midnight dalliances, no doubt egged on by the holiday cheer and the alcohol. You smiled, thinking about not having to hide in a hallway like when you first started dating him. Now you had his entire bedroom to have your sultry romps.

You opened his door and walked into his Papal suite, the familiar lush decor and smell of mahogany filling your senses. You passed by the small and elegantly decorated Christmas tree by the fireplace. You wondered just what his surprise might be when you saw him propped up against the wall, a rose in his mouth and —

What was that?

He was dressed in his Santa jacket and hat, with nothing else on - save one thing. Your eyes trailed along his upper body then snapped to what was in between his legs. On the end of his throbbing hard cock was some mistletoe, tied around his shaft by a red ribbon and a little gold bell below it. He waggled his eyebrows and at the same time isolated his pelvic muscles to make his cock bob up and down, tinkling the bell.

“How long have you just been standing there all hard waiting for me?”

His face fell momentarily and he took the rose out of his mouth. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do!” you said, suppressing laughter as best as you could while stepping towards him. You held onto the lapels of his jacket and leaned in. “I do.” He smiled again, a smug look of satisfaction washing over him.

“Good,” he said, handing you the rose. “Because you’re going to get stuffed and glazed just like Secondo’s honey ham.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling. “But I don’t think it’ll be quite as delicious as you, amore.”

“It should be. I’ve been eating a lot of pineapple for this.”

“Really? Then I’ll have to taste it for myself,” you said, feeling the heat pool at your core.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue in. You weren’t sure where to place your hands so you held onto the rose with one hand, the other in his hair. He swiftly brought you closer to him, his quivering cock poking at your thigh under your tulle skirt.

“Mm!” you said, surprised at feeling his hardness brush against you.

“Well,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “It’s not going to kiss itself, tesoro.” He twitched his cock again, making it bob up and down and wagged his hips side to side, making it shake the other direction and sounding the bell.

You eyed him slyly as you bent down, gently falling to your knees before him and placing the rose on the floor. You took his cock in your hand and began stroking his length, eyeing the perfect pink tip at the end. Each time you stroked him, the bell would chime.

“Oh cazzo,” he sighed, leaning his head back, his lips parted.

You flicked the tip of your tongue against the head of his cock and watched his abdominal muscles contract. He was like putty in your hands.

“You like that, amore?” you asked teasingly, his shaft in your palm.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Stai zitto,” he said through moans as you continued to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. But you could swear you saw a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth as he said this.

You closed your eyes as you took his entire length in your mouth, sliding him in and out and clutching onto his hips. The little leaves on the mistletoe tickled your nose each time the bottom of his cock reached your lips.

Clink! Clink! went the bell each time you slid him in and out of your mouth.

He started to whimper and moan quietly, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair tighter the faster you went. At one point he began thrusting into your mouth, probably no longer able to contain himself.

Clink! Clink! ClinkClinkClinkClinkCLINKCLINK

“Mmm!” you mumbled around his cock as the greenery around his member assaulted your face over and over, scratching your nose and cheeks a little bit each time. CLINK.

Your eyes welled with tears as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly. CLINK. At this point you were hardly doing any work, just kneeling there and being used as a vessel. CLINKCLINK

“Satanas you’re going to make me cum like that,” he panted as he continued pushing his hips into your face.

You smiled around him - well as best as you could - and brought him closer by gripping his ass cheeks.

“Ah - cazzo!” he exclaimed, suddenly pulling out of your mouth and panting.

“Terzo?” you asked, trying to look up but you were unable to as his hand remained on your head as he used you to prop himself up and regain composure.

“I can’t cum too soon and ruin the evening, no?” he said, standing up straight and helping you up off the floor. “Not when I haven’t even taken care of you.”

You kissed his laughter lines around his mouth as he spoke, his Papal makeup smudged from your kisses earlier. “You always take such good care of me.”

He turned to face you and held you in an embrace, kissing you passionately again, his hands roaming all over your body. He began to massage your breasts through your costume, building the arousal between your legs even more. Your breathing quickened as you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck this fucking blouse,” he said breathlessly, breaking away and tearing at the front of your green cardigan, the buttons flying across his floor - eliciting a ‘Shit!’ from you. “Mmm!” he mumbled, kissing you again, pawing at your chest.

He fumbled around your back at your bra clasp, unhooking it after a couple of tries. You urgently slid the straps off your shoulders and tossed the bra to the floor. He bent down to take your nipple in his mouth, circling his tongue around it and sucking. He alternated, pinching the other one between his fingers.

“Oh Terzo,” you sighed, running your hands through his hair, fiddling with the silver strands peppering his raven hair. He’d never admit to it, but you saw the box dye left on his bathroom counter.

Instinctively you squeezed your legs together, alleviating some of the need to touch yourself. You felt your heart race and a shiver run down your spine.

“Fuck me, please Papa,” you sighed, breath trembling.

“Mm?” he said, glancing up at you between your breasts with a glint in his eyes. He kissed all over your chest, up your neck and finally, your lips. “Is la mia principessa ready for her Papa to fuck her brains out, hm?”

“Yes Papa, please,” you said, still in a breathy whisper. “Fuck me.”

He nodded his head towards the bathroom and glanced over. “Go get a condom and meet me in bed. I’ll get the lube.”

“Why are there none in our nightstand drawer?”

“‘Our?’”

“Shit. You know what I meant.”

He grinned. “Ti stai dimenticando? We used them all last night and I didn’t have time to take some more out.”

Slightly embarrassed at your gaffe, you made your way into the bathroom and started opening drawers. “Where did you put the box?”

“Bottom drawer!” he called out.

Did he think differently of you now? Would he think you were too presumptuous and want to call the whole thing off? Or potentially, were you just overthinking things as usual? “Found it! Oh fuck, shit!”

“Sorella?” He sounded concerned and rushed over to find you on your hands and knees kneeling near the toilet.

“Almost got it!” You had dropped the roll of condom wrappers behind the toilet and had wedged yourself between it and the vanity. “Help me, Terzo!”

“Ah, I see now,” he said slyly. “Call for me in a panic just so you can entrap me.”

“What? Terzo, no, I really do need help, I drop- ”

“Sì, I can help,” he said, kneeling down behind you, his cock right up against your ass.

“It’s just, argh!”

“Argh!” he imitated you, running his hands all along your body.

“It’s right there I can’t - reach - !”

“Has anyone told you how sexy you look with your ass in the air in candy cane tights?”

You rolled your eyes but you knew he couldn’t see. “Er, no - um, thank you. But I dropped the condoms behind the toilet.”

He craned his neck to see. “Ah. This is quite the pickle we are in. You with your hand behind the toilet and your ass against my cock.”

“No, I believe it’s your cock against my ass.”

“What am I to do, tesorina? What should a Papa do when finding his lover in a compromising position, hm?” He leaned down and trailed kisses along your back, momentarily freezing your arm from the continued search of the condoms.

“Fuck…” you whispered, feeling his mouth move further south and his hands finding their way around your waist.

“What’s that, bella? You think Papa should fuck you? You called me in such a panic earlier that I did not bring the lube…mmm, what should we do?” he said, kissing you just above your ass. “Is la mia principessa ready?”

Your body ached with desire. You needed him inside you. He trailed his finger along your tights-covered behind, poking around where your entrance was. “Darling, I think your tights are just a little wet. Let’s see just how wet you are inside.” He gripped the fabric and you heard it ripping apart.

You let out a surprised gasp as the chill air hit your warm, now exposed nether regions. He entered you with a finger and your body shuddered against him as you whimpered quietly.

“Oh yes,” he said in an amused tone. “You are very ready.” He slid out and up to your clit, playing with it gently as you moaned and rocked your body back and forth to feel the friction against his fingers. “So responsive. Una così brava ragazza.”

“Please, Papa,” you said under your accelerated breath. “Please fuck me.”

“Don’t worry amore,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the sleeve of condoms that you were having trouble getting just moments before. “I will.” He tore off one and ripped it open.

You readjusted yourself on the tile floor so you wouldn’t bang your head against the toilet or the side of the vanity as you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and the clinking of the little bell still attached to his dick.

“Oh FUCK!” you both said in unison as he entered you. He slammed into your dripping cunt with such ease, you felt him bottom out immediately. The tingle of the mistletoe against your clit heightened the sensation.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! In and out, in and out. You both moaned each other’s names in pure, unadulterated passion.

“Ah - merda Sorella, you turn me into a teenager again. Fucking on the floor out of sheer desperation for one another.” Now he was so deep inside you the bell muffled against your body. CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

“So - mmm! - you’re d-desperate for me?” you said teasingly against the cold tile.

“La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca.” With that he fucked into you so hard, so fast, you couldn’t say another word. He pushed your head against the floor roughly, your cheek pressed against the cool marble so hard you could feel the grout indent. He nearly knocked the breath out of you as he hit your g-spot perfectly each time, a relentless grip on the back of your head.

“Ohhh - !” you moaned as he rammed into you over and over. CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK. He was thrusting faster, riding out his orgasm, his nails digging deeper into your hips.

“Fuck - I’m going to - cum - Sorella - !” He pounded into you, tapering off his speed as he came, his cock twitching a final time before he slumped over your back, breathing heavily.

“Satanas,” he breathed, his chest heaving wildly as he pulled out, your body shuddering under him at the loss. You heard the snap of latex and the condom hitting the trash can liner.

You turned around and sat down, leaning against the toilet. You watched him untie the mistletoe and take it off, tossing it aside. “So how was it, with that?” you asked, nodding towards the discarded plant.

“Honestly? It was a little itchy. It might just be a novelty.” He tossed himself on his back against the floor. He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling from being out of breath. “How was it for you?”

“Honestly? It was a little itchy,” you repeated. You both smiled and laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Come here Sorella, I did not intend to leave you wanting. Hop onto Santa’s lap.”

You crawled over to him and straddled his lap, gazing into his eyes.

“What do you want this year for being such a good little girl?” He asked, caressing your arms and looking at your breasts before flicking his eyes up into yours.

“I want…endless kisses…and a mind-blowing orgasm,” you said, leaning down to kiss him.

He returned the smooch. “Mm, I did not know a present for you would also be a present for me. Come closer and sit on Santa’s face…that’s it, Satanas yes please.”

You moved up his body until you were straddling his face, then delicately lowered your body on him, doing your best to move your skirt out of the way.

He sputtered, spitting out the tulle from his mouth and pulling your hips towards his face again. He batted at the layers of fabric, cursing in Italian, before finding your cunt.

Your eyelids flitted closed as your lips parted in a silent “oh.” He took your clit in his mouth and sucked on it between his lips. He alternated between that and flicking your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. You looked down to gaze in his eyes but his face was completely hidden under a green tutu.

You began to buck your hips against his face as he used the flat of his tongue, building up the friction and feeling yourself closing in on orgasm. He switched up and deepened the suction on your clit, flicking his tongue against you simultaneously.

“Oh fuck Terzo - fuck, I’m so close!” You rocked back and forth as you pinched your nipples, heightening the sensation.

His fingernails dug into your hips again as he sped up his ministrations. Grabbing ahold of your waist, he slid you along his mouth faster and faster.

“Oh, Terzo!” you cried out in ecstasy, trembling on your knees above him as you came hard and fast in his mouth. He didn’t let up the motions or the intensity until you pulled away, giggling from the overstimulation. You climbed off of him and sat down next to him, both smiling at one another.

“How are you feeling? Good?” he asked, stroking your thigh.

You nodded your head. “Yes, very. But can I lay down next time? I’ve been on my knees an awful long time.” You both laughed.

“There’s Papa’s little hoe hoe hoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “Of course, amore mio. Anything for you.”

You held onto his hand, playfully caressing all his fingers. “It’s been a very good Christmas so far,” you remarked.

“Mmm. And you haven’t even opened your presents yet.”

“There’s more?”

“What, you thought this was it? No Sorella, go look under the tree.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you stood up, legs still a little shaky. You walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

You hadn’t noticed the presents under the tree earlier, but there were a few. A lot, actually. Somehow even your gifts for him were under there. One of the ghouls or housekeeping staff must have moved them for you.

One caught your attention - a gold envelope poking out from the middle branches of the tree. You reached inside the tree, accidentally sending the package spilling onto the floor. Two plane tickets splayed out on the floor.

You picked them up in wonder - your name was at the top of one, and his on the other. You walked in a daze over to him.

“You did not truly think I would leave you with just my cock for Christmas, did you?” he said, following you out of the bathroom and now leaning against the wall. “I love you, principessa. I call you princess because to me you are. My sweet little thing. I want to give you the world, my world…would Italy be a good start?”

You flung your arms around him, tears in your eyes. “Yes, Terzo. I think that will be an amazing start.”

[Stay tuned for a continuation of this story!]

Italian to English Translations

(la mia) principessa ((my) princess)

tesorina (little treasure/darling)

amore (mio) ((my) love)

cazzo (fuck)

Stai zitto (Shut up)

Ti stai dimenticando? (Are you forgetting?)

Sorella (Sister/nun)

bella (beautiful)

Una così brava ragazza. (Such a good girl.)

merda (shit)

La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca. (My little devil girl thinks she’s so smart, eh? It’s time you shut your mouth.)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band smut #terzo #terzo fanfiction #terzo x reader #papa terzo x reader #terzhoe #terzo smut #ghost band fanfiction #HappyHornidays #XXXmasAtTheMinistry #the band ghost fanfiction #Ghostmas #MerryGhostmas #MerryGhostmas2023 #holiday smut #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo my beloved #terzo fanart #papa emeritus smut

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 8th

Breeding, Papa Nihil x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Breeding; power imbalance; dubcon; Nihil is a selfish lover tbh; no after care; dirty talk; degradation; manipulation; this is actually really creepy and dark, please don’t read this if older men manipulating younger women for sex triggers you; use of scissors to cut off clothes; no foreplay; unprotected sex; piv sex; minor restraint; praise kink;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask (if you want to be added to the list please let me know!)

The following fic contains scenes and elements that some may find disturbing. I have highlighted particular content warnings above that may be particularly triggering to some. If you are in any way in a place where this fic could trigger you, please do not read ahead. Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction.

I do not condone the actions taken in this fic. Please remember that it is a work of fiction, and meant for entertainment purposes only.

Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this is dark fiction, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my rating. Thank you.

You were merely a young sister in the Satanic Church when you met him. You’d barely taken your vows, just out of your teenage years and not even making a name for yourself in the Ministry when you assigned your first job. Papa Nihil, the founder of the Ghost Project and head of the Satanic Church, was spending the early 60s touring multiple countries, attempting to topple governments and recruit new members to the church. It was your job, while on tour, to make sure Nihil got everything he needed and that he was comfortable. His son, Primo, who was the same age as you, had been left behind to run things in his father’s absence and take care of his two infant brothers. His father got to gallivant and do what or whom he liked.

Nihil enjoyed the fame and success the Ghost Project brought him and the church, and while it wasn’t considered “righteous” to fornicate with others out of wedlock, it still didn’t sit correctly in most people’s moral codes. He enjoyed strings of girls, each one a different variety to the other. Nihil wasn’t picky, and that was perhaps the only good thing about him. If you had a vulva he wanted you, end of story. But this was his biggest problem, as he was already promised to a different sister, a future Prime Mover - and it wasn’t his favourite Ministry squeeze, Sister Imperator.

But this was how you found yourself sat on your 45-year-old Papa’s sofa, his hand grasping harshly at your thigh and his painted lips attached to your neck. That very same hand moved up towards your core and began to rub you through your tights and panties. You weren’t entirely comfortable with this situation. You wanted to give Nihil what he asked for, and in fact your body was craving it, but your mind constantly thought of his future Prime Mover and his lover, who was only in the next room. You told him this, said that you could go and get Sister Imperator for him. But it was no good. Papa Nihil wanted you. “You wouldn’t deny your Papa, would you?” He murmured into your neck. His fingers were swiping just right on your clit and had you gasping out. “More importantly, you wouldn’t deny your Dark Father, would you? He loves the gifts you give him. Will you, scricciolina? Will you give Him what He asks for?” Little Wren. He liked calling you that because you were as sweet and soft as one, a fitting name for someone so cute and pliant.

You nodded. “Y-yes, Papa.” You replied, your hips beginning to buck to meet his hands.

“Brava ragazza. Stendersi. Spread yourself open for me.”

You lay on your back on the couch, Nihil pulling himself away from you just long enough to let it happen. It didn’t matter that you were still fully clothed, Nihil always preferred it when you were while in public spaces. Not that he’d stop fucking you if he got caught. He always said it was to preserve your modesty, but there was always a darker look in his eye when he grabbed the scissors from their location and sliced through your tights. He’d slice your panties too if he were impatient enough, which, today, he was.

You heard the familiar rip of your tights before you felt the coldness of the blade against your labia. One horizontal snip later, your panties were now destroyed and your sweet, delectable cunt exposed to Nihil’s predatory gaze. He palmed himself through his trousers at the sight of you, but it didn’t take long before his cock was out and lined up to your entrance. You were wet enough to welcome him without pain, but not so wet as for the stretch to be completely comfortable or pleasurable. But even so, he pushed all the way in not even considering your own state. The groan he released was somewhat primal, and just the feeling of your unprepared hole was enough to get the man going.

He braced himself on top of you, letting his whole weight on your body and pressing you down into the sofa. He began babbling incoherently in your ear as he fucked you for his own pleasure. “Ecco, take it like a good girl. Take your Papa’s cock.”

You felt completely degraded but there was a huge part of you that was thrilled by this. Knowing that Nihil didn’t care for you, knowing that he was just using you to get what he wanted excited you to the point where you should be concerned. But the more he thrust in and out of you, the wetter you became. The closer he got to cumming inside you, the tighter you squeezed without realising you were doing it.

What if he came inside you? What if he got you pregnant? The thought of it should disgust you. This man was old enough to be your father, and barbaric enough to enjoy this because he thought you were sweet and innocent. But you were losing yourself to the pleasure, to the idea that he would release his white, sticky cum inside you and put you at risk for pregnancy. If you were pregnant, then everyone would know. Everyone would see that Papa Nihil had laid claim to the newest sister. You were part of his harem, at his beck and call. Free to use whenever he liked.

“Talk to Papa,” he said, “t-tell me what you’re thinking.”

You moaned. “Papa!”

“Your… your cunt is so tight, scricciolina. Why?”

“I - mmm fuck! Papa! I want your c-cum!”

Nihil chuckled above you. “You want to receive your Papa’s cum, hm? Want - merda - Nihil to knock you up? Fill up this tight cunt and fuck a baby into you? Is that it?”

“Yes!”

“Want to be round and full with my spawn? Such a good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust.

You had heard rumours from the other sisters who had been in your position that Nihil’s biggest kink was spreading his seed around. Because of your words, he seemed to lose a little more control than he had previously. His mind began to wander and his mouth let slip every single thought. “Cunt so good, might make you my Prime Mover. Might fuck you until you’re pregnant with the antichrist.” Your stomach dropped at the thought, especially since your previous worries had returned at the mention of ‘Prime Mover’ but your mouth released a moan so loud, it bordered on pornographic. The coming of the antichrist was a big deal for the church, and an honour for the woman who bore him. You hadn’t considered it before, but now you had, there was no turning back.

Your legs wrapped around Nihil’s waist and kept him trapped between them, only allowing him to pull back a certain amount. “Fill up my c-cunt, Papa! I want your cum so badly.” You were practically wailing now, your nails running down his clothed back. “Get me pregnant, sh-show the Ministry who I belong to. Please, Papa!”

That seemed to do the trick. With one final and brutal thrust, reaching all the way to the back of your pussy almost painfully, Nihil stilled. His cum spilled out of him while his mouth released a groan so low, it was practically a growl. “Th-that’s it.” He stammered. “T-take my seed.”

When he pulled out of you, you felt his cum leaking from your abused hole. He noticed it too, and spent a little while watching it ooze from you before standing up and dressing himself. “You should head back to your room.” He told you, not even looking in your direction. “You have an early morning, don’t you?”

You adjusted your own clothes, feeling his cum running down your thighs as you stood. “Yes, Papa.”

And with that, you left.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

#mel writes #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #ghost kinktober #papa nihil #papa emeritus #nihil emeritus #papa emeritus x reader #nihil #nihil x reader #papa nihil x reader #smut

[leezlelatch]

A Cardinal Truth

It’s time to worship that belly and those thighs like they deserve. NSFW. Minors DNI.

Cardinal Copia x Reader, ~2,600k words AO3 Link

Belly worship, thigh worship, love handles, self deprecating comments,

You watch from your place at the edge of the bed as Copia pulls the suspenders from his shoulders, letting them hang loose at his sides while he meticulously places his coat jacket on the hanger which he claims has the miraculous ability to chase away creases.

He clears his throat, the light of the lamp on the dresser catching the features of his profile as he stands in front of the closet door. You admire his long nose, the curve of his brow, his full lips. His upper lip twitches, his mustache jumping with it. You enjoy how the soft light accentuates the little flyaway hairs he misses when he trims, somewhat longer than the others in his otherwise maintained facial hair.

A piece of brown hair tinged with silver falls over his forehead, and after his suit jacket is hung straight with the others in a pattern which Copia claims is very important - black, red, white - he smooths his hair back. You hold a pillow in your lap and squeeze it to you as you bite your lip and smile. Just watching Copia perform his nightly routine is an intimate act for you, your heart bursting with the knowledge that you get to see him like this. Not the right hand of Papa Nihil, the second most employee of the month Cardinal, but merely Copia. Overworked, exhausted, but insistent you spend your evenings together no matter how late or tired he is Copia.

You watch as he moves toward the mirror next to his dresser, a hand scrubbing over his face as he looks at himself. You watch as he squints as if in displeasure, his fingers lightly ghosting over the wrinkles at his eyes, visible now his make up has been removed. He pulls his white undershirt from his pants and lifts it over his head, his hair a veritable bird’s nest that he attempts to tamper down once he tosses the shirt aside.

His back and neck are covered in the light freckles you know travel across his chest and down his arms. You can just make out the front of him through the reflection of the mirror, his chest covered in downy brown hair interspersed with wiry gray that you know Copia hates. Sometimes you catch him plucking the gray hairs from his chest.

You hear Copia grumble, and your eyes snap up to his which are trained miserably on his midsection. He grabs a handful of his belly, just protruding slightly over his pants and gives it a wiggle while he whispers self-deprecating Italian. The thickness of his hips and thighs are only accentuated through the tight black pants of his suit, and he turns to the side looking himself up and down.

You’re getting up and crossing the small space without a thought, your fingers grabbing for his soft skin as you wrap yourself around his frame.

“Amore!” He gasps, his arms coming up as you duck beneath them, nuzzling your cheek into his bare skin.

You sigh happily, your fingers tracing over the curve of his rigatoni blamed pudge, dancing down his happy trail to the edge of his trousers. Copia’s breath hitches as he gazes down at you, his lips parted slightly as his pupils begin to dilate from the heat simmering in the belly your attentions are so immensely focused on.

“What are you doing, dolce?” He whispers, biting his lip when you press a kiss to his love handles.

“Can I tell you a secret, Copia?” You say, smiling prettily up at him as you rest your chin on his middle.

“Hmm?” He questions, not trusting his voice. Copia runs his fingers through your hair, mesmerized by your actions.

“I love this part of you. I love how soft you are, how your suit hugs your curves. I think you’re beautiful.”

His immediate reaction is to scoff, his eyes finding his reflection in the mirror. He frowns at the way his midsection juts out from his hips, a fact he can usually hide within his belted cassocks. Copia loves his sweets, and in his old age, the little cakes and chocolates are going right to his thighs. They fill his pants, already sinfully tight, the skin around his dick even affected by his bad habits, the shape of him easily identifiable. 

“This isn’t attractive, amore,” he sighs, his gaze turning to you. His fingers leave your hair to gently press against your cheek. “Although you are sweet for saying so.”

“Yes it is,” you say, your eyes wide and sincere. “Every time you take off your shirt I want to grab you and never let go.”

“Get off the floor, please,” Copia says, pulling at your arms fruitlessly as you do not budge an inch.

“Copia,” you place a hand on his chest, letting your fingers slide down the length of him. He shivers. “See yourself through my eyes. You are everything.”

“But I am old,” he gasps.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, pressing another kiss to his skin.

“I am…flabby, in places.”

“Yes.”

“I am wrinkly,” he says, his voice shaking.

“Yes,” your thumbs rub circles into his sides.

“I look frightening.”

“You can look quite intimidating sometimes in the right light,” you concede. Your lips tease around his belly button.

Copia grips the edge of his dresser, and growls, his brow furrowed, “And!?”

You look back up at him and smile, “And I love every bit of it. Every bit of you. All of you. For all that you are. You are my Copia.”

He stares down at you with wide eyes, his hair falling into his face, sweat on his brow. Copia blinks and a tear falls, hitting your cheek. You do not flinch as it slides downs your face to catch at your chin. Your eyes are only for him. You want him to see and understand that you love him. So incredibly and so deeply.

“Amore, amore mio,” he whimpers, his hands coming up to cradle your face. More tears fall, sliding down his ruddy cheeks as he sniffles in an attempt to control his emotions. “I love you. Ti amo. You have my heart in your hand, cosa preziosa. Do you feel it beating for you?”

Copia,” you whisper, your eyes shining with the breadth of your own emotion. You move out of his grip to place hot kisses all over his skin, pressing your nose into the roundness of his belly. “Let me show you what I can do with more than your heart.”

Your fingers slide up his thighs, curling your hands around the thickness of them, the fabric of his pants smooth against your palms. The pants are so tight to his skin you can hardly grab a handful of his thighs. Your lips continue to press kisses all over his belly and around his belly button, nipping at the hairs there.

Copia uses both hands to grip the edge of the dresser now, his breath blowing harshly out of his nose as he closes his eyes against the feeling of you kissing and touching places he often feels unsettled by. As a couple, the both of you are no strangers to sex, but there is a deeper intimacy in these secret erogenous places he had no clue could affect him so.

As you press yourself closer to him, Copia squirms when you brush against the aching hardness which strains against the prison of his trousers. You pull back to admire it, the curved outline making you blush and rub your thighs together. You hear a dark chuckle above you and raise your eyes, Copia smirking down at you with a tilted head, his white eye nearly iridescent.

“Do you like looking?” His voice is low, rasping, each syllable winding around his Italian accent. “Do you like to see what you do to your Cardinal?”

He rolls his hips toward you, arching them toward your lips, his cock shifting in his pants. You see a desperation behind his feral expression, Copia hiding behind the mask of the Cardinal, overwhelmed by your affection. You dart forward and kiss him through the fabric, rock solid against your lips before biting down on the skin of the underside of his belly. Copia’s hips jerk and he gasps, a sudden intake of breath hissing through his teeth.

Your intention is to leave bruises, marks of your love all over his skin and you pepper little love bites up and down his belly, sucking hard at the sensitive flesh near the center that has him bucking toward you again. His dominant expression crumbles into sweet surrender, a mewl escaping his parted lips.

“Satana, cosa mi stai facendo? Mi sento così bene, così bene, amore mio,” Copia murmurs frantically, his voice nearly breathless as he moans into the quiet of the bedroom.

You unbuckle his pants and slide the zipper down, his cock springing free from its confines. It bobs in place, jerking, searching for relief, searching for your touch. The tip shines with precum and you move very close, your lips nearly a hairbreadth away from brushing against the red and needy skin. You glance up at your Copia and his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised dramatically as he waits to see what you will do. He whines.

“Touch me, oh touch me, per favore,” he begs.

You grip his hips, closing the distance between your face and his need, but you merely allow your cheek to slide against the side of his cock, a cheeky look crossing your features as Copia watches you with rapt attention. That slight, gentle, soft friction has him pressing himself harder against you, confusion etched across his face as you continue your trek until your nose brushes against the plush skin of his pubis, the wiry hairs tickling your face.

You kiss there and he nearly buckles.

His thighs, covered in soft dark hair, are thick, but strong. The muscles flex under your hand as you finish removing his trousers, flinging them to the side, the suspenders attached to them clacking as they hit the floor.

Copia is wiggling, his hips moving left and right as he throbs. He’s taking deep, cleansing breaths as he watches a drop of precum collect at the tip of his cock. You drag your fingernails across his thighs, delighting in the way the dresser shakes behind you as he pushes and pulls against it.

You take the very edge of your finger and gently remove that glistening drop, hearing Copia’s breath catch as you inspect it carefully for a moment before gazing up at him with a most innocent expression, bringing your finger to your mouth. You watch his eyes widen while his pupils narrow as he watches you lick his desire from your skin. It drives him mad, his hand coming down to slap yours away from your mouth to accept his searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth with desperation, wrapping around yours in an attempt to taste the saltiness on your tongue.

You pull away sharply and grab his chin, staring into his eyes. His chest heaves, his breath hot against your face.

“Don’t be bad,” you tease.

Copia’s face flushes, but there’s a new sharpness to his gaze, a slow confidence building there.

“Cattivo, amorino? I will show you bad when I have you spread before me,” he promises.

You suck in a breath, a small noise leaving your mouth which absolutely delights him. A smirk twists at his mouth when he catches you moving your hips to try and stifle the pure ache you've felt between your legs since you started to watch him undress. Wanting to gain back control, not finished with the utter worship of your lover's body, you wrap your hands around and squeeze his butt, enjoying the squeak that leaves his mouth as you pull his hips close to you once more.

You begin to lavish his thighs with kisses and bites, sucking hard on the pliant skin of his inner thigh. Copia buries his fingers in your hair. Your fingers knead and prod, massaging his thighs in tandem with your kisses. Each sweep of your lips in that special crease where his thigh meets the pubic area has him keening, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Copia's hips stutter against your touch, humping at the air. His cockhead is swollen and red, weeping and desperate.

You turn your attention to his other thigh, not willing to leave a single inch of these deliciously plump areas untouched. You bite at him and pull just a little, the skin jiggling back into place and he jumps, a high-pitched moan escaping him. You glance up at him. He's breathing heavily, his lips parted, wet around the mouth. His eyes are tightly shut, and the sweetest little "ah, ah, ah"s leave him as his entire body positively shivers under your ministrations.

"Copia," you say his name softly, your hand raising to grab the flesh of his belly.

His head shoots down and he opens tear stained eyes, his face open and pleading.

"I love you," you tell him. You try to infuse your words with every bit of honesty and truth.

His bottom lip quivers as he smiles, his hands leaving your hair to cup your face. He looks at you as if you are the only thing in his world that matters. You are the only thing in his world that matters.

"And I love you," he whispers. "So much. So deeply. I love you."

Keeping eye contact, you cup his balls with one hand, your other hand wrapping around the hot flesh of his cock. Copia's fingers tighten around your cheeks, and he gasps, his hips jumping. He presses his forehead against yours, whispering a string of unintelligible Italian as you pump your hand back and forth. He arches into you, thrusting himself into your hand. His movements rock you both, and you allow yourself to simply be taken into his rhythm. 

His breath picks up, his whimpers steady and growing louder until he's nearly falling on top of you, his legs giving out. You hold him close as his body shakes head to toe, and you feel ropes of his cum land on your stomach. He becomes pudding in your arms, laying heavily against you on the floor, his face buried in your neck as he attempts to settle his racing heart. Your fingers draw circles on his back, your lips pressing kisses to any piece of skin you can reach in your position.

Copia sighs, his arms tighten around you for a moment before he pulls back, looking at you softly for several seconds and leaning in reverently to kiss your lips.

"Thank you," he breathes against them. "You don't know how - " His voice breaks and he goes silent.

You cup his face much the way he did yours and kiss his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids.

"You're perfect, just the way you are," you say.

He wobbly smiles and buries his face against you once more. You allow yourself to be lost in his embrace, warm and content, until you feel him begin to nibble against your neck, his mustache scratching against your skin.

"Amore," his voice is a purr. "Remember what I said about having you spread before me?"

****

The next morning, you wake with bleary eyes, stretching, enjoying how relaxed your muscles feel while the throb between your legs reminds you of just how grateful Copia was the night before.

Speaking of...your eyes do not find him beside you in the bed, and you scan the room until they fall on him standing once more before the mirror.

He's completely nude, a cup of coffee in one of his hands and he turns this way and that as he admires the bruises littering his belly and thighs. He chuckles softly and slaps a hand to his belly.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they are warm and happy.

#the band ghost #cardinal copia #ghost #ghost bc #copia #cardinal copia fanfiction #cardinal copia headcanons #cardinal copia x reader #reader insert #ghost fanfiction #poorly translated Italian #mdni #papa emeritus iv

[gravehags]

my blood is singing with your voice

Pairing: Aurora x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: Aurora being a crafty little ghoul, flower meanings, blood drinking, scissoring, semi-public sex, angst at the beginning and end i am sorry to say

Words: 3,353

Summary: Flowers are a romantic gesture, you think. What they lead to is quite something unexpected.

a/n: HAPPY INTERNATIONAL LESBIAN DAY FROM NOTORIOUS GHOULETTE LOVER...ME. part...who tf knows in the ghoul bicycle series. One last part left...

~~~

When Phantom finally departs your quarters the next day, you grab him by the front of his shirt and give him a soft, lingering kiss in your doorway while blatantly ignoring the sibling walking by giving a disgusted look at your show of affection.

“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you pull apart, “last night was great.”

You nod, fidgeting with the clasps on his vest and reach your arms around him for a tight hug. When the two of you finally pull apart, Phantom cups your face in his beautiful hands, fingers brushing against your flushed cheeks.

“You are so special,” he murmurs, gazing down at you, “and you don’t even know.”

Something twists a little in your stomach, and that uneasy feeling you’ve been having for a while now is back.

“What does that even mean?” you ask suddenly, reaching up to grab and lower his hands, simply holding them in yours. “You guys keep saying that to me but like…how? Why? I don’t…”

Phantom cocks his head to the side but remains silent.

“...I don’t get it. I don’t see it.”

“I can’t tell you,” Phantom murmurs, squeezing your hands, “not yet. It’s not my place. You only have to wait a little longer, I promise.”

“A little longer ‘til what?” you ask, but Phantom is kissing your hands and pulling away already, leaving you standing in your doorway. He waves at you before rounding the corner out of sight and you give him a half-hearted wave in return. After you shut your door you’re struck by the feeling of how alone you are, tears slowly begin to slide down your cheeks. You feel as if you’re being strung along, used, and no one will give you a straight answer. When your tears begin to fall more freely and sobs heave your chest, you collapse on the floor next to your bed.

It takes two days to shake off most of what is bothering you and return to your duties. Once again, Sister Marguerite intercedes on your behalf and explains that you are “out of sorts” to the head librarian and Papa Nihil. The librarian you knew would be kind about it but you don’t want to know what sort of things Nihil said about you and your absence and Marguerite keeps that information to herself. On the morning of the third day, you get ready and open the door to your quarters to head out. What sits on the floor in front of your door baffles you.

Inside a wrapping of simple brown paper is an abundance of beautiful and brightly colored flowers. When you pick them up and bring them to your nose, the smell is fresh and heady. You can only recognize a couple of them: orange roses, red tulips, and some kind of lily but there are others you are not familiar with. Confused, you look up and down the hall to see if anyone is lingering who might have left them or who might know who left them but the corridor is empty. There’s no tag or note pinned to the bouquet to give you a hint but one thing you know absolutely for sure: these flowers came from Papa Primo’s garden. Closing your door, you make your way down to the ground floor to where you know the old papa will be tending to his flowers and herbs with other siblings.

The gardens of the abbey are vast and beautiful, and you regret that you’ve only spent a small amount of time working in them. Various siblings are hunched over vegetable patches assessing growth while others are pruning beautiful and fragrant varieties of flowers. You finally spot Papa Primo, wearing a sunhat over his long white hair and bent over at the waist to breathe in the scent of a large, pale purple rose. When he sees you, he straightens and smiles. You’ve always liked Papa Primo - working with him when he holds mass is always a delight and he’s soft spoken and kind. And his talent for growing things is positively unmatched, which you admire deeply. When you approach him he holds out his arms to give you a light embrace.

“Ah sorella, so nice to see your pretty face. You’ve escaped the library, then? Come to put your hands in some earth, eh?”

You smile and gesture with your chin down to the abundant bouquet in your hands.

“Actually Papa, I have a little mystery that I think I could use your help in solving.”

He looks down at the bundle in your arms and a little smile spreads across his wrinkled face.

“Bellissima,” he says, holding his hands out, “may I?”

You nod and pass the flowers to Primo which he looks down at thoughtfully. You explain to him how you found them outside your quarters this morning and how the selection in the bouquet seems odd. 

“I know they come from your garden because where else would someone get flowers so beautiful? I just don’t know who they’re from or…what they might mean? I can only recognize a few of them, nothing more.”

He preens a little at your compliment before letting out a thoughtful noise.

“This is indeed an unusual collection of blooms,” he says, nodding, “I believe whoever gifted them to you is trying to tell you something.”

“Oh?” you say, crossing your arms, “Like those Victorian flower meanings?”

“Sì, sì,” he replies and uses a long finger to point out different flowers, “this…this is calla lily. She represents beauty. And this, as you know, is an orange rose. Beautiful, no? She means desire. These delightful little pink and purple flowers are sweet pea - they represent ah…blissful pleasures.”

You blush, pointing at another grouping of small white flowers on abundant green stems.

“And these? And the red tulip?”

“These small beauties are called savory and I believe they indicate interest. And the red tulip represents deep passion. It would seem, sorella, that you have caught someone’s eye. And from what I hear these days, you’ve caught many eyes, hm?”

You’re blushing a deeper shade than the tulips. Sathanas, does everyone know about your on-going trysts with the ghouls? Perhaps it would explain the ire with which a great deal of the siblings treat you, not to mention how several of them in the garden are regarding you now. Primo watches you quietly for a moment before handing the bouquet back to you.

“Ignore them, dolcezza,” he says as if reading your mind, “ignore them and I will tell you who picked this beautiful selection for you, sì?”

Your head snaps up and your eyes meet his.

“You knew all along?” you say in a hushed, exasperated voice.

“Eh, it was more fun to make a game out of it for you,” he says, shrugging with a smile. “I will tell you that a certain little ghoul came to me with the desire to create something so exquisite it would capture your attention immediately. I daresay it worked.”

“Little ghoul?” you say, confused, before it dawns on you a moment later who he means.

Aurora.

“She’s quite taken with you,” Primo says, looking down fondly upon you. “And she wanted me to tell you she is waiting for you by the pond near the woods.”

Your jaw drops a little. “I…I can’t, I have duties to attend to–”

“Let me take care of that,” Papa says, waving his hand dismissively, “if Nihil has a problem with your absence from mass he can take it up with me, sì?”

A rush of affection makes you want to throw your hands around the aging Papa, but you settle for squeezing his forearm and thanking him profusely. With a newfound spring in your step, you leave the garden and begin to head for the large pond on the abbey property. It’s a beautiful day, the sun warms your skin and hair as you pass through the orchards. The view that opens up to you always takes your breath away, the light glittering on the vast stretch of water (more lake than pond, really) with an expanse of trees lining the shore. You reach the edge of the water and regard yourself in the surface. How you’ve changed since last you were down here for your unholy baptism. How you’ve changed in the past few months alone. You heave a deep sigh and finally look away over to your left where you see an enormous ancient gnarled oak tree. Underneath the tree is a large dark red blanket spread on the grass and sitting on that blanket is a small ghoulette who even from a distance, you can tell is beaming at you. Returning the smile you head her way over to the secluded spot between the water and the woods. Reaching the blanket, you plop down, still holding your flowers.

“Do you like them?” Aurora asks, hands folded in her lap and tail wagging behind her.

“They’re gorgeous,” you say with a smile, “I love a good treasure hunt escapade.”

Reaching her hands out, she takes them from you and sets them at the top of the blanket between the two of you. You regard her form - her long hair, bright eyes, and the fact that she has removed her boots and socks makes you grin.

“Put your feet in the water?” you ask, gesturing to her discarded items of clothing.

“Actually,” she says, leaning in, “I was hoping we could put more than our feet in the water.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, cheeks lighting up, “kinda early for a dip, no?”

“Never too early for skinny dipping,” she says, undoing the clasps on her vest. “Join me?”

She poses it like a question but it feels more like a command from the petite ghoulette. There’s no one around you shrug as you remove your own boots, socks, and habit. She strips down to her skin without a second thought and you admire her lithe body, mouth going dry as your eyes sweep across her breasts and narrow waist down to the junction of her thighs. Before you can look away to reach your hands behind your back and undo your bra, her hands are doing it for you. She takes her time sliding her palms along your ribs and embracing you. When she pulls away with the garment, discarding it, her eyes regard you as hungrily as you did her. You stand up, ready to head towards the water when she tuts at you and grabs your calf.

“All off,” she grins, reaching upwards toward the waistband of your underwear, “I wanna see all of you, pretty girl.”

She slides your panties down achingly slow until they’re pooled at your feet and then she smiles with her whole teeth as she looks at your bare cunt. Leaning forward she places a chaste kiss to your mound that makes you jump out of your skin.

“Mine,” she says sweetly, looking up at you with her fangs out. When she begins kissing all around and down your thighs you feel your knees weaken and taking advantage of the moment, she pulls you down to the blanket with her. She’s on you in a heartbeat, straddling your waist sliding her lips against yours. Her kisses are languid, passionate, and just a touch possessive as she pins your wrists above your head and licks into your mouth. The way she feels pressed against you, breasts brushing yours makes you moan into her mouth and struggle against her grip with the urge to touch her. She giggles and relents, trailing her lips down your jaw and throat to the junction of your neck and shoulder, where she slowly licks the pulse point.

“Can I?” she asks, breathless against the shell of your ear, “can I taste you? Would you let me?”

The request makes your head spin and even while not fully understanding the implications, you nod, sliding your hand down her back to massage at the base of her tail. The action makes her hips kick against you and your cunt aches when you feel her slick on your skin. She’s sucking marks into your neck, nibbling at the delicate skin when all of a sudden she bites. You jolt and grab onto her hips as her fangs sink deeper into you. You feel pain, only for a moment before she removes them and begins sucking at the wound in earnest. The little noises she makes in your ears as she drinks you in make your hips grind into hers. Her hands wander as she sucks at you, fingers drifting down to toy with your pebbled nipple, pinching and rolling it between her long, painted claws. You’re almost certain that she could make you come like this, lips on your neck and fingers caressing your breasts. Every surge of your heartbeat makes her grip you tighter and drink from you with greater fervor. You can feel the edges of your vision start to get fuzzy and you reach up and tap her lightly, slurring your words when you say you feel light-headed. She pulls off you in an instant, lapping at what remains around the punctures. Each swipe of her tongue feels warm and soothing, like sinking into a hot bath, and after a moment you no longer feel the tell-tale wetness of your blood on the wound, only the cooling of her saliva. Aurora gives you a moment to take several deep breaths and when you reopen your eyes, you moan at the sight before you. Her face is a foot away from yours and her mouth is smeared crimson with your blood - a sight that would under any other circumstances nauseate you, but seeing the way it clings to her lips and chin with her pupils blown only heightens your arousal. She lets out a nervous giggle, and your eyes follow the path of her pink tongue as it slips out to clean up some of the mess.

“So good,” she purrs, stroking the side of your face, “you taste divine, baby. A nice little treat, all for me.”

You reach up and swipe some of your blood off her chin and she watches you like a hawk as you bring it down to your own mouth and take a lick. It tastes like blood, sure, but the way Aurora watches you with her jaw hanging open is well worth the stunt. Before you can make a smart comment about how you think you taste, her mouth is on yours. Now you can really taste yourself, the intense metallic tang hitting the back of your throat as she slides her tongue against yours and grinds down on you. When you move your hands upwards to fist in her hair, your thumbs brush the base of her horns and her tail thrashes behind her.

“You really know how to play us all like violins now, huh babe?” she grins, rotating her hips into yours. “You know just what we like. But don’t forget, ghouls like to talk. And I know all about what you like.”

Aurora slips from your grasp and slowly begins to lick her way down your body, paying specific attention to your breasts. She cups and squeezes them, thumbing circles around your hard nipples before descending upon them with her mouth. Idly, you wonder who told her you like your tits being played with. Swiss? Cumulus? Aether? Could be anyone at this point and for once you’re grateful for the way the ghouls discuss you amongst themselves like you’re a meal to be devoured because Aurora is luxuriating in them now. The flat of her tongue runs along the underside and your back arches, desperate for her to taste all of you.

“Mmm, so good Aurora. Feels perfect.”

She pulls off your nipple with a pop and grins, hands moving downwards to knead at the fullness of your hips. 

“Love your body,” Aurora says, sliding her hands down and over your thighs to nestle herself in between your legs. “Want to make you scream so everyone can hear you, baby.”

You’ve practically forgotten that you’re technically in a public space and that anyone could stumble upon you, but instead of deterring your lust it increases it. When Aurora leans away for a moment you make a whine of protest which is quickly silenced by the way she repositions herself and angles your legs so that your cunts are a breath away from each other. A moment passes as you stare up at her, watching the midday sun halo her infernal features and she gives you a beatific smile before lowering herself onto you. The contact immediately makes you twitch as she slowly rotates her hips, spreading both her slick and yours before pressing down harder. When she grinds against your clit, and you against hers you both moan in tandem. You want to throw your head back against the blanket but doing so would mean you couldn’t watch her. And oh, does she look glorious, handling your body as if it is a toy in order to reach her pleasure. Not once does she look away from you as she rides your cunt, her moans high pitched and wanton.

“Aurora, don’t stop,” you pant as the breath is stolen from you with a particularly hard grind, “Please don’t stop.”

Aurora beams at you, and leans over to kiss your leg she holds in her tight grasp. It’s an awkward angle, to be sure, but any ache in your back or legs is muffled by the rolling pleasure that comes from each contact you make. 

“Mine, all mine,” she coos, rubbing herself even harder against you in such a way that has your back arching off the blanket, and when her folds catch divinely on your clit you cry out. She grins with all of her sharp teeth and works the spot faster and faster. The friction between the two of you has you both gasping and panting and you swear she’s timing it out to make sure you both reach your end at the same moment. When the pressure begins building in your stomach and chest and your cries become louder and louder, hers do too. 

“‘Rora, please! Fuck!”

She lets out a wild peal of laughter as she brings the two of you over the edge, your moans surely loud enough to attract attention. Lights twinkle and fade in your vision as you scream her name and she yours. Her hips make a few more rotations against you before finally she drops your leg and collapses on your chest. Your bodies remain entwined for a few more moments before she rolls off of you, leaving you to breathe deeply once more. Without her on you you’re suddenly aware of how chilly the air has gotten and the dark storm clouds that roll over your little hideaway.

“So much for skinny dipping,” you say, turning on your side to face her.

“Eh, it was a ruse anyway. Easy way to get your clothes off.”

You roll your eyes, reaching up and behind you for the beautiful bouquet.

“Hmm, think I should get these in some water,” you muse, inhaling the lovely fragrance once more. “You coming with?”

Aurora trills before sitting up and gathering her clothes. You both manage to get dressed, despite sidelong lustful glances at one another and she packs up the blanket. The two of you make your way back to the abbey, and while there is great joy in your heart there is also great sorrow. Aurora was the final ghoul. Potentially the last tryst you’d have with any of them…forever. What if they don’t want you now that you’re…all used up? When you try to hide the way you brush the tears off your cheeks behind your bouquet, Aurora looks over at you curiously but doesn’t say anything. You’re going to do your best to enjoy the time left you have with Aurora and then…who knows.

Perhaps you’ll be all alone once again.

#aurora x reader #aurora x female reader #aurora x f!reader #aurora ghoulette #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[molly-ghuleh]

Camellia: Copia x f!reader - Chapter 6

Camellia: n. - A flower which symbolizes a deep desire or longing.

Summary: Even though you have finally begun to translate Elizabeth's diary, you still need context. A visit from the archivist answers some questions but raises even more.

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: Helloooooo! Thank you all again for your extraordinary patience in the long wait for this chapter. It isn't the most eventful (nor am I the proudest of it) but things are definitely happening, and I think you all will enjoy where it's going!

P.s., the identity of the archivist was inspired by the lovely @writingjourney <3

Warnings: Nihil being a bad dad (again), descriptions of anxiety/panic, descriptions of afab people being seen as objects

AO3 / Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Secondo thinks that abdicating the position of Papa might be the best thing to ever happen to him. 

That’s not to say he disliked being Papa. Quite the opposite, really—holding the scepter, wearing the crown, and hearing the title were all a generous ego boost. But the aspect he loved the most was that he could promote the tenets of the Lord Below how he wanted, how he felt was most effective. He was the mouthpiece of Satan, the proprietor of His word and the bridge between his unholy flock and the fires of Hell. 

But that’s about it. He loved the glory, sure. He did not like the man that the Ministry molded him into. Once he stepped down, it was hard to look himself in the eye without cringing. He was supposed to hold the power for Satan, not the Clergy, and certainly not for Sister Imperator. 

Just about the only thing he has to thank that woman for is the time he’s gotten back after “stepping down.”

Secondo has always been interested in the archives, ever since he was a boy. He would sneak around the Abbey in Rome into places he shouldn’t have been and see things he probably shouldn’t have seen, and keep everything he saw to himself. Having the knowledge of secrets he wasn’t supposed to know made him feel important, like he held some power over the Clergy if he decided to open his mouth. 

So when he'd stumbled upon a dim room towards the back of the library at the tender age of eight, he thought he’d found the Library of Alexandria. Wall-to-wall shelves of thick leather bound books, stacks of tightly-rolled parchment and linens depicting unholy scenes. An old wooden table holding a desk lamp and a magnifying glass. A single lone lamp that, when he’d pulled the chain to illuminate it, had emanated a click so loud that he thought he’d be caught for sure. 

He’d been so disappointed when he realized he couldn’t understand any of the books or scrolls or linens. They were all written in a language unfamiliar, which he knows now to be Latin. But at eight years old, his primary focus was to learn the unholy scripture, to serve Satan in his duties as an altar boy, and to make his father proud. 

That last point… he never did accomplish. 

But he did eventually learn Latin, so that he could read what was in that dim room. He’d learned to shimmy the lock open (the Roman Abbey is ancient, it wasn’t a difficult task) and sneak in, absorbing as much information as he could. 

Secondo learned about rituals that haven’t been done in centuries. He read prayers and psalms that had been forgotten with time. He found drawings of long lost artifacts and relics shrouded in mystery. Each new bit of knowledge gave him that rush of adrenaline that could only come from forbidden things. 

When he was old enough, he was allowed into the archive room. Of course, no one had known he’d already spent countless hours there. His father wanted him to know his family history if he were to take up the helm of Papa one day. You need to know what is in your blood, his father had said. Just as Primo does, and just as Terzo will. 

Secondo had wanted to ask, what about Copia? But he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want his archive privileges revoked as soon as he’d gotten them. 

The first thing he’d done was find his family tree. Who came before him? Who was Papa before his father, and before his father’s father? How far back did the Emeritus bloodline really go?

It was in the family tome that he first discovered the words Primus Motor. Up until a specific time, every Emeritus heir had been conceived by a woman with the title Prime Mover. Then the women proceeding them had lost that title, with seemingly no pomp or circumstance. Nearly a thousand years ago, the title had been dropped and forgotten. The final Prime Mover, it seems, had been a woman named Elizabeth. 

When her diary had been found in some random basement room of the Abbey, Secondo immediately requested to be the archivist in charge. She was his ancestor, and the last Prime Mover on record. Her diary must have an explanation, or some insight as to what exactly a Prime Mover is. There were Prime Mover rituals outlined in those books he’d found as a boy, sure. But none ever explained what the significance was beyond “the chosen maternal body.” It all sounded rather dehumanizing.

But Sister Imperator had told him to keep that fact a secret. She’d brought in a translator to decipher the diary without telling her the whole story. So, he wasn’t terribly surprised to learn that you’d requested to speak to him, or that when he finds you in the restricted room, you look like a deer caught in headlights.

“Papa,” you say, standing to greet him formally. You bow your head out of respect and give him your name. “I can be out of your way, if you need—” 

Secondo simply puts a hand up to stop you. “No, sorella. I am here to speak to you about the diary, as you requested.” 

Your eyes go so wide that he almost laughs. “Wh-what?” You swallow. “Forgive me, Papa, I didn’t know that you are the archivist who evaluated Elizabeth’s diary…” 

“Is that going to be a problem?” Secondo asks. 

“No! No,” you scramble, shaking your head slightly to align your own thoughts. His intense gaze pins you to the spot, and not in a good way. Not a bad way, either, but… not in the way Copia’s gaze does. 

Determined not to make a fool of yourself, you steel your nerves. “It’s not a problem, Papa. I apologize. I have only… the highest member of the Clergy I have ever met until I arrived here was Bishop Beaumont. I still find myself a bit overwhelmed, sometimes.” 

The corners of Secondo’s painted lips tick up at your admission, but he makes no mention of it. “No matter. What is it you wished to discuss?” 

You sit and turn your notebook around so Secondo can read the translation of the first line. Today I was chosen to be Papa’s Prime Mover. 

“I was wondering,” you begin, “if you might be able to tell me what a Prime Mover is.” 

After reading the translated line, Secondo leans back. “I do not know much,” he answers gruffly. “But I do know that it was an esteemed position. Something to do with continuing the bloodline. However the title of Prime Mover is no longer used.” 

“How come?” You ask. 

“I do not know.” 

You hum and look down at Elizabeth’s diary, like it might speak the answer to you itself. Something to do with continuing the bloodline? “Sister Imperator told me that you estimated this diary to be about five hundred years old,” you say. “Is there a reason you chose that number?”

At Secondo’s silence, you meet his eyes again to find that his brows are furrowed and his jaw is set. His lips form a tight line, deepening the clefts beside his mouth. “I only ask because it may help with context,” you offer, defending your question. Your chest flutters with nerves again. You hope you haven’t somehow angered him… he’s quite intimidating. 

Secondo’s mind turns. Sister Imperator hadn’t told you that he was the archivist, and she’d told you a different number than the one he’d estimated. She asked him to keep Elizabeth’s status as the last Prime Mover a secret. It seems odd, like she knows something that she wants neither you nor Secondo to. He finds himself annoyed that Sister wants to keep something shrouded in such unnecessary mystery. 

“Sister Imperator has given you the wrong number,” he says after a moment of tense silence. “I believe it is nearly a thousand years old.” 

“A thousand?” You gape. For a volume that’s a millennium old, it’s in remarkably good shape. You’d thought the same when you believed it was just five hundred years old. 

Secondo nods. Whatever reasons that Sister Imperator has for wanting to keep the diary a secret, he doesn’t know. But if he can do anything to learn about his family and its history, or if he can spite Sister… he’ll take that chance. “Elizabeth is the last Prime Mover on record. I do not know why the title was dropped, and I do not know why it is supposed to be such a secret.” 

Oh. Yes, you understand. Papa must have his reasons for disliking Sister, and you have your own. If you can contravene her in this small way, a secret kept between an archivist and a translator, you will. You’re slightly ashamed that the thought makes you a little giddy, but not ashamed enough to not do it. 

“So,” you guess, “you’re hoping that this diary answers that?” 

“Correct,” Papa nods again, and stands. “I ask that you keep me informed, sorella.” 

“Of course, Papa,” you say with a polite smile. 

He leaves the restricted room and you’re left alone with Elizabeth again. Only this time, there is a new clarity between you and your subject. Your gaze drops down to the pages of jumbled letters, wondering. 

Papa Secondo had said that the position of Prime Mover was esteemed. If it had been, why was it dissolved? Perhaps it wasn’t dissolved at all, and it was only forgotten? And… the position is related to the Papal bloodline, so surely these Prime Movers would have been the mothers, right? 

The answers lie in front of you, waiting to be translated. Elizabeth herself beckons you with her slanted script, saying, read me. Hear what I have to say. 

And how you want to focus. How you want to spend the next weeks painstakingly deciphering letter by letter, word by word until you find these answers which will sate your curiosity. But, damn it to Hell, all you want to do is find Copia and tell him what you’ve found out. You want to tell him that you’re still here, that Sister Imperator had agreed to let you stay after your dramatic, last-minute discovery. You want to ask him all sorts of questions about what he might know of Prime Movers or his ancestors. You want to watch the excitement bloom in his eyes as it always does when you speak about the diary. 

You have your reservations, though. Going to Copia on anything other than Ministry business feels like you’re overstepping your position. Who are you to assume that you’re important enough to him to just pop in? 

In those moments in the gardens, and in the chapel, though… it sure felt like you were. He had looked at you like you were. In the gardens he was Copia, and you find within yourself that you’d rather be sent back to Liège than see Copia as only Papa again. 

~~~ 

It’s been two days since Copia has seen you. Two full days since he’d watched you half-waddle down the Sibling corridor, soaking wet and shivering and covered in mud from the knees down, and he can’t focus on anything whatsoever. 

There’s some official bulletin or another on his desk, awaiting his signature to distribute it out to the rest of the Ministry, but he can’t bring himself to pick up his pen and sign it. Not for a lack of caring—the bulletin is actually quite important—but because he’s conjured up this beautiful picture of you in his head, and he’s afraid that if he moves he’ll lose it. 

You must be busy. You’d told him you had an idea about the cipher on your way up the hill out of the gardens, and if he hasn’t so much as gotten a glimpse of you around the Abbey, it must have been a breakthrough. He knows how frustrated you’d been, how determined you were to figure it out, as you’d said. I want to stay and figure it out. 

Another part of Copia’s mind, the part he doesn’t want to listen to but that is so very loud, tells him that perhaps your idea had been wrong, and Sister Imperator had sent you home. Maybe the reason he hasn’t seen you is because you’re not even here anymore. 

So, he keeps still, his eyes unseeing as he stares into nothing but his own mental image of you. If you’re really gone, at least he has this. You might not be gone, but he’s almost scared to go looking for you because he might find that you are. As it stands, you are Schrödinger's Sister of Sin. Here, and not. 

His, and not. 

“Al diavolo questo,” Copia grumbles to himself, pushing himself up from his chair. He rounds his desk, sending a few loose papers (including the bulletin he’s supposed to sign by the end of the day) to the floor, and swings open the door to his office. He turns left, towards the library. If there’s a chance he can see you, rather than his limited mental image of you, he’d be foolish not to take it. 

His footsteps are determined, bringing him quickly down the stairs to the main artery of the Abbey, and across the wide hall towards the entrance to the library. His breath picks up and his heart pounds in his ears like he’s sprinting. By the end of this agonizing trek to the restricted room, he just might be. 

He takes the stairs to the right of the library entrance two at a time. Usually he would smile and wave to whichever Sibling is working the front desk, but not today. The guilt he feels is quickly squashed by the pressing need to either see you or not see you. It feels like it’s eating him up, not knowing. 

Copia has tried to be patient and give you time, if you are still here. He knows that what happened between the two of you in the chapel was a lot, all at once, and even if nothing had been said explicitly, you must know. You must. 

For a moment, when he reaches the top of the stairs, he wonders why it is that he feels so strongly for you, so quickly. It’s as if Satan himself deposited you on his doorstep, just for him. As if Satan had kept him from sleeping that night, so that you could run right into him outside the restricted room door. 

He rounds the corner to walk further into the library, into the shelves of romance books (which, he admits, is rather serendipitous placement). His heart thuds against his sternum when he sees the little square window in the door illuminated. Who else would be in that room with the door closed but you? Who else would have any reason to spend more than five minutes in there, aside from you, or Secondo?

Copia loves his brother. He really does. But he hopes to Lucifer that it isn’t Secondo behind that door, or he might punch him simply for the fact that he’s not you. 

He reaches the door, and pauses. His hand rests on the brass doorknob, but doesn’t turn, because what if you are gone? 

No, no. You aren’t gone. You can’t be gone. 

He turns the handle and pushes the door open on squeaky hinges. There you are, sitting at the desk you always do, head tilted up to see who is at the door. Your brows are slightly raised, your shoulders are hunched—you must be tense from sitting over your work all day—and your finger is placed against that grid of letters as if you had been in the middle of decoding a word when he walked in. The light of the desk lamp attached to your station casts your skin in a warm glow. 

If he thought his heart would calm when he saw that you’re still at the Abbey, he was mistaken. Just the sight of you here, that slight hint of heat in your face illuminated so plainly by the desk lamp has his chest vibrating with relief. At least his mind quiets, the tempest of thoughts and questions finally calming after a long, sleepless two days. 

“Papa?” You ask, after a long moment. You sit up a bit straighter and tilt your head. The slight crease between your brows returns, and Copia wishes he could kiss it smooth again. “Are you alright?”

Your voice seems to break Copia out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in, because he finally blinks and his jaw closes. “I— eh, yes, I’m alright.” 

You slowly stand from your desk and round it, but keep a respectable distance between you and Copia. “You don’t seem alright,” you say. “Copia… what’s wrong?” 

It feels like a weight off his shoulders to hear you call him by his name. With you, he’s not Papa. He doesn’t want to be Papa, not to you, not when you’re looking at him like that. “I thought you might have been gone,” Copia breathes, his voice just above a whisper. “I thought she might have sent you back.” 

“She didn’t.” 

“Good, that’s… good.”

You and Copia stare at one another for another moment. The air is thick with something unspoken. 

“I figured it out,” you say. Then you add, “the diary,” because you both know that there are two things you had to figure out. The diary, and… this. 

You’re still working on whatever this is, and Copia is still staring at you. 

“Copia,” you say with an awkward little smile, “why are you staring at me?” 

His own lips curve into a smile. “Sorry, cara mia. I’m just happy you’re not gone.” 

“Me, too.” 

“So, eh… what is it that you figured out?” Copia asks, blinking a few times in rapid succession. His heart still hammers in his ears. 

You round your desk again to turn your notebook over and show him. “She’s clever. Every word requires a new key, which is why we could only decipher one word using her name,” you explain. “Every decoded word is the key to the next one.”

Copia leans over to read the notebook. You have it flipped open to the complete translation of the first line, and his eyes scan the sentence a few times. “Prime Mover?” he asks, looking back up at you. 

“I don’t know, either,” you tell him. 

He hums in response, his gaze falling back towards the diary and your notebook. 

“When were you going to tell me that your brother is the archivist, you ass?” 

Copia’s head whips back up, afraid that you’d be actually angry at him. His mouth opens, prepared to defend himself because how would he know that you were planning on speaking to his brother? But he sees your wry grin, and the protest dies on his lips. Instead, he releases an airy laugh and his shoulders drop. “Ah, yes… I suppose I should have mentioned that.”

“Sweet Satan, I made myself look like a fool,” you laugh. “I’m not used to Papas and Cardinals walking around yet. Every time I see one I nearly fall over.” 

“You don’t seem so intimidated by me,” Copia says, half relieved and half worried. “What, am I not as scary as Secondo?” 

“Not nearly as scary, no! He could stare someone to death,” you say through a chuckle. “That, and when you and I first met, you were wearing sweatpants and rat slippers.” 

Copia smiles fondly, though you don’t catch it. “So you’re not starstruck by me, tesoro? I’m hurt.” 

“At first I was!” you defend yourself. “But somewhere after that I guess I just… forgot.” 

“Forgot to be starstruck?” 

“Forgot that you are Papa.” 

Oh. Oh, Copia could kiss you, you sweet thing. He doesn’t ever want to go this long without seeing you again. It’s all he can do to stop himself from walking over to you and sweeping you up in his arms and kissing you silly. His hands itch to hold you but you aren’t ready for that yet. So he says instead, “I don’t want to be Papa with you.”

Your heart rises to your throat. “You don’t?” 

“No,” Copia says softly. “I don’t.” 

You have to fight off the smile threatening to stretch your lips. You don’t want him to be Papa with you either, but you don’t know what you do want him to be to you. 

You do know that you want him to kiss you. You do know that the thought of leaving the Abbey without resolving whatever this is made your heart ache, but that talking about whatever this is would make it real and that terrifies you. You do know that falling in love with him means you have something to lose. It’s not quite that, not yet, but… it could be. 

Copia can see your mind working itself in circles. He knows that you’ll talk yourself out of it—whatever it is—if he doesn’t intervene. “Tesoro,” he calls to you, pulling your focus back out from inside your head. When he’s certain you can see him and not just through him, he takes a slow step forward and gently reaches for your hand. The white linen of your gloves, worn while you handle the diary, is a stark contrast to the black leather of his. It slips against his glove and settles into his palm like your hands were crafted for him to hold. Sathanas, your hands are perfect. You are perfect. “Please… tell me you know. Tell me you feel it.” 

Your eyes are wide when they meet his own. “I know,” you whisper. Your voice is shaky with the weight of speaking your feelings, making them real. “And I don’t.” 

His thumb rubs circles on your knuckles. “Cara… you know. You must.” 

“I…” you swallow dryly. “I do, but it’s… it’s scary, Copia. It’s happening and I have no control over it and…” 

“And?” Copia whispers. He takes your other hand, stepping just close enough that you can feel his breath ghost across your cheeks. 

“And I will have to leave,” you respond. Your eyes burn with unshed tears that you desperately try to blink away. “As soon as the diary is done, I will have to go back.” 

Copia looks at you for a silent moment. His eyes search your face, noticing all the details he hadn’t noticed before. This is the closest he’s ever been to you. A tear rolls down your cheek and he reaches up to swipe it away with his thumb, but doesn’t return his hand to his side. It cradles your face like you’re something precious, and to him, you are. 

He gently tugs you closer and wraps his arms around you, holding you against him. You tuck your head under his chin, savoring the smell of him, the comfort of his embrace and the warmth of his body through his suit. “It will be alright, carissima mia.” 

You shut your eyes and two fat tears escape as you do. Your body shudders with a repressed sob. 

Copia simply holds you closer, fighting back tears of his own. 

He’d nearly forgotten. Of course you would have to leave again, once your project was done. Just because you’re here now, doesn’t mean you will always be here. 

Maybe there are ways to have you stay. Maybe if he asked Sister Imperator, she would find a place for you here, doing translation as your sole duty. But can he keep you away from your home, when it’s so obvious how fond you are of it? How could he ask you to stay, knowing you would miss Marseille the whole time? 

Copia squeezes you tighter. “Will you do something for me?” He asks so, so softly. One of his hands strokes the back of your head, drawing you closer into his embrace. “Come and work in my office with me, yes? Just for a little while. Or a day or two, maybe. I hate that you’re all alone up here.”

“I can do that,” you say, and draw away from him slightly so you can look at him. You’re sure you must look a mess with your eyes puffy and nose running. But standing this close to him, clutching the fabric of his shirt like it grounds you to the world, you can’t bring yourself to care. “But I need permission from Papa or Sister Imperator to remove the diary from this room.”

Copia smiles. “Well, I have good news, then,” he says with a quirk of his brow. “There’s a Papa right here. Perhaps you should ask him?”

“Right, yes, I forgot,” you laugh. “Papa, do I have your permission to take Elizabeth’s diary out of the restricted room?” 

Copia laughs back and his breath is warm on your cheek. “Yes, tesoro, you have my permission. Only if you bring it straight to my office.” 

“Of course, Papa,” you nod, smiling. 

“Bene! Let me help you with your things.” 

Copia steps away and releases you from his grasp to help you gather your materials. For a brief moment you’re disappointed, but your cheeks warm at the thought that maybe he might hold you again in the safety and comfort of his office. Maybe you might gather the courage to allow yourself to feel the feelings you’re desperately trying to suppress, and maybe he might feel them back. 

But, you chuckle at his charming urgency to help you. You work on wrapping Elizabeth’s diary in its linens, and placing it in a wooden box you retrieve from a small shelf in the corner of the room. You still wear your white gloves. 

“Shall we?” Copia gestures to the open door once you’re both done preparing to leave. His eyes shine with mirth and something you might think was affection if you weren’t doubtful to a fault. 

“We shall,” you reply. He lets you slip past him and out the door, then falls into step beside you as you make your way down the curved staircase. 

~~~

March 27

Today I was chosen to be Papa’s Prime Mover. 

Mother said it is a gift from Satan to be chosen. I am to conceive the next Papa, and continue the bloodline with the blessing of the Olde One. 

Truthfully, I am frightened. Mother said that it is now my only duty. She said it is an extreme privilege to be a Prime Mover and to carry the blood of Emeritus inside me. But I did not get a say. I was chosen, and that was the end. Papa did not even tell me himself, it was Mother. She said it is better to hear the good news from the mouth of the fairer sex, from the woman who did her duty as I must. 

Fairer sex. I must laugh at that. Fairer sex, and yet I must be a vessel for Emeritus blood at the whim of Satan. Fairer sex because I am beautiful but better to be seen and not heard. And yet I am expected to carry and birth the most powerful man in the Ministry, a power that no one else has. To ‘fairer sex’ I bite my thumb. 

There is to be a ritual tomorrow night, to solidify my role as Papa’s Prime Mover. I am horrified. Mother said that a woman can only hope to be so lucky as to be Prime Mover. Must I pray to be a bred heifer? What of me? What of my own wishes? 

I believed the Dark Lord to be wiser than this. I believed he would not ordain any sex to be lesser than the other. I believed in his doctrine of free choice, of fairness and civility, after having been cast down for disobeying. My faith wavers.

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

Tag list: @bonelessghoul @gbatesx @the-did-i-ask @leah-halliwell92 @archive-obsess @rosacrose @nikkyatyourservice @sodoswitchimage @portaltothevoid @lightbluuestars @thesoundresoundsecho @stephnthangss @enchantedbunny @jackson5611-blog @copiasprincipessa @kadedoesthings @justheretoreadleavemealone @tiedyedghoulette @da-rulah

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[honimello]

all papas general headcanons

basically just headcanons i have about their past, childhood, and personalities! and some other stuff like physical description and personal experiences.

—

a/n: these honestly probably might not fit the canon like at all or what some of you might head canon but that’s okay cus i’m just letting my brainrot fester at this point. i left their relationships open ended so there would be imagination room for like an x reader thing lol. also i picked their birth dates based on vibes alone and i know very little about the zodiac signs i just thought it would be fun lol

warnings: angst, vaguely implied abuse, poor childhoods, character death, mentions of sex and sexual orientations, (nihil fucking sucks and sister imperator kinda does too), (also all papas are alive), vague mention of eating issues, mentions of wanting children, mentions of marriage, one nsfw bullet point for each so 18+ MDNI!! also not proofread

primo: 68, born september 14th, 1955 virgo

5’10, around 140ish pounds, blonde with shaved hair, but used to have long hair that he would braid and came down to below his lower back. speaking of his back, he has a hard time standing up straight now so he appears shorter than he is.

his mother was a random woman from a bar, nihil only found out about her pregnancy until she was 7 months pregnant. sister imperator was rightfully very angry finding out about this, but she had her suspicions of his promiscuity. she often took out her anger on primo, especially when he became papa and she gave him more work than he probably should’ve been doing. although, she did slightly lessen up on him around the time when he had taken in copia.

he’s actually quite sad he never really got to meet his mother, but he didn’t have much time to think about it once his brothers started coming along. he stepped up more often than not in taking care of them, he was more of a father (and a mother honestly) than nihil would ever be. and sister never really had any interest in interacting with him or his brothers, except for copia.

speaking of copia, primo found out about him when copia was around 11-12 and he took him in quite fast. it only took one look at that little boy for primo to know it was his brother. when he was younger he used to get a little jealous that sister imperator was so invested in copia’s wellbeing and upbringing given that she had never been a mother to him or his other brothers but primo eventually just found himself feeling grateful copia had a mother, even if she wasn’t a very good one.

when primo became papa he got rid of the prime mover position, seeing how it destroyed sister and nihils marriage as well as his brothers childhoods made him incredibly angry. he also didn’t care for the connotation that women are made to have children and carry on the bloodline only. he’s a romantic (and a feminist), and that notion always made him nauseous.

secondo visits primo the most out of all his brothers, copia often visits too but doesn’t have much time. terzo only really visits when he is having some sort of emotional or personal dilemma that he cant figure out on his own. primo doesn’t mind, he’s willing to help his brothers and see them whenever he can. though in his old age he does get quite lonely and wishes they could make more time for him, but he doesn’t hold it against them.

primo finds himself wanting children now that he’s older, even if he might not be able to bare his own anymore he often entertains the idea of adopting one of the orphans at the ministry. he wishes he had someone by his side as well, and while his random sexual encounters with few siblings are enjoyable, he longs for a more steady companionship.

it’s harder for him to get erections now but still enjoys having sex, even if he doesn’t always come. is very good at oral and fingering and definitely loves to spoil his partner. will probably cry happy tears if someone sucked him off even if he couldn’t get hard all the way, he still enjoys it. can still fuck hard but will probably be very sore afterwards. pls give the old guy a nice warm bath after and maybe a kiss on his wittle head.

secondo: 57, born august 18th, 1966 leo

6’2, around 180ish pounds, brunette but has shaved his head since he was 20, huge resting bitchface even when he was a baby, muscular but has put on some pudge since becoming papa.

his mother was the first prime mover in around 100 years, she was a sibling of sin who nihil had a passing attraction towards and decided to torture sister imperator by naming her prime mover. she died giving birth to secondo. secondo blames himself, and tends to despise himself because of this.

in his teenage years he often spent sleepless nights crying for her, how much he wished he could’ve met her or at least seen her as there were no pictures of her. he wondered if she would love him, be proud of him, or fight to be his mother like terzo’s mother did. or if she would leave and never come back like primo’s. now, in his older age he has come to reconcile with the fact that he will never know. but even though he never got to know her, he still misses her dearly.

after secondo loses his papacy, he throws himself into ministry work. he works long hours, well into the night and spilling over into the weekends. he’s an archivist and restoration expert, working on artifacts important to the church. he feels like this is the only way he will not go insane. he loves terzo but he does not believe him to be ready or fit to be papa when it comes terzo’s time. and he is partially right, as terzo definitely lets the power go to his head but over time he becomes more in control. secondo finds himself feeling sorry for his little brother when terzo loses his papacy, it was wrong of sister imperator to take it away from him like that and secondo hates to see what losing the limelight has done to his brother.

secondo is known around the ministry for his intimidating visage and aura, as well as his wrath. but what people don’t pay attention to, is just how often he bites his words. he has worked very hard to keep his anger at bay, even going to therapy to find more healthy ways to cope with his trauma and rage. in fact, he does his best to be polite and kind to everyone in the ministry. but his kind is different than others kind, he comes off as cold and calculating. his emotional range is very limited and he finds himself struggling to open up to anyone. the only person he’s ever opened up to was primo, and even then it isn’t really opening up if his brother can just read him like a book. secondo often doesn’t have to say much for primo to understand what he’s going through. primo helps him through it regardless, as he’s always done since secondo was a baby.

secondo isn’t sure if he would want kids of his own, but he does love children very much and is very good with them. he often volunteers to run events for the orphans at the ministry.

he would like to fall in love but thinks he is much too old and not nearly attractive enough to find a long term partner. has flings here and there with some siblings of sin but they aren’t very serious. he isn’t sure if he’s really quite ready to give up the party life yet no matter how much his aching bones say otherwise.

does frequent bars and clubs to feel like he’s still a part of the scene after losing papacy, but it doesn’t quite feel the same and most nights he leaves drunk, angry and alone. the few nights when he finds company are not as fulfilling as he hopes they would be, and it isn’t the other persons fault it’s his. he feels so melancholy now it’s hard to focus on simple pleasures like sex, especially when he hardly has the time with how hard he works. he often lays away most nights wishing he could’ve done better as papa, even though he knows people love him and respect him he still feels like he never quite did enough. he feels like he isn’t enough.

loves sex, and can get quite rough but is very, very good at aftercare. definitely not picky about sexual partners but tends to prefer people who are shy cus he enjoys bringing them out of their shells and getting them to snap at him. secretly wants to be fucked and dominated.

terzo: 54, born june 12th, 1969 gemini

5’3, around 120ish pounds, black hair like nihil and wishes he looked more like his mother who was a redhead, definitely spot treats grey hairs, hates the idea of getting old and is very insecure about having wrinkles, is quite small but still a little chubby, though he lost lots of weight since losing papacy. might be bigender or genderfluid but is afraid to really think about it too hard.

his mother was also a prime mover, but she fought to be in his life even as sister imperator tried to push her out. she was a very loving mother who did everything she could to teach him to be a good man, to be nothing like his father who she had come to despise. she taught him many things, she taught him how to dance, to draw and to cook. he loved her very, very much and it tore him up when she passed. he was 14 years old, and that’s when he decided to put up a façade. he did not want to be vulnerable anymore, he didn’t want to have to be sad or scared at least not where anyone could see him.

primo often held him in his bed when he would cry about losing his mother, he had nightmares for years. he vowed to himself to not let himself ever be so vulnerable in front of any one again. to this day thinking about her kills him little by little, though he is much better at expressing his feelings.

his flirtatious and playful persona is something he really relies on in his older age, he thinks it’s all he’s really good for anymore. a show and a good lay. and when he loses his papacy he absolutely crumbles. the persona completely falls away and he hides himself in his quarters most days. he loses weight and wallows, he becomes enraged by fate but he finds he could never really be mad at copia for taking over, it’s not his fault anyways.

in his teenage years he was quite promiscuous and took on many lovers, and while he still has casual flings with some siblings of sin, he never lets partners overlap anymore. he’s a gentle soul at heart and he learned that very fast, he can’t stand seeing someone upset, even if he’s only attracted to them in a more primal way it would kill him to see someone upset because of him.

i believe he is very loyal and if he were to get into a relationship with someone, even if they didn’t state that they were exclusive, he would still ere on the side of caution and not have sex with anyone else. i think if he were in love he would be hopelessly devoted, he’s more sensitive than he tends to let on and cheating is not something he would let himself do. maybe when he was young, he might’ve slipped up somehow, but not now. he’s much too intelligent and much too mature, he’s grown and he knows how to control himself now.

and while he does have quite a lot of sex, i think the sheer abundance of partners has been greatly exaggerated through false rumors and gossip. people tend to lie about having slept with him just for the five seconds of fame it brings them, and that often causes problems with people thinking he has cheated on many people.

is terrified of marriage but longs for it desperately, he wants to feel like someone wants him for him and not because he is/was papa. he’s not sure if he wants kids, he’s horribly afraid of being a bad father.

is horrified of being like nihil in any way, and nearly throws up when someone mentions that he has the most resemblance to nihil out of all his brothers.

is a huge giver sexually, could literally come from just watching someone else come. loves to overstimulate and go above and beyond. doesn’t really require someone to reciprocate and take care of him as well but it is deeply appreciated as he can also be quite the pillow princess.

copia: 52, born october 15th, 1971 libra

5’8, around 130ish pounds, light brunette hair that is going grey at the sides, is very petite but with a softness to him especially around his belly, hips, and thighs, he has light freckles all over his body,

he was an accident, sister imperator never meant to get pregnant but she had planned to tell nihil about the baby until she had caught him with yet another sibling of sin. she decided it would be better for copia to grow up as an orphan in the church, and to be raised by her secretly. copia didn’t even find out she was his mother til primo had found him and taken him in at age 11. sister often pushes copia to work harder, her hopes for him to become papa one day slowly begin to become his hopes as well. and it’s hard for him to say if he really wants the papacy or if he just wants her to be proud of him.

he grew up very lonely and outcast, the other orphans in the ministry thought him strange and unappealing. he had been told from a young age that he was ugly and weird. now that he’s older, he’s since found out that he’s autistic, but he knows that’s not the entire reason they didn’t like him. he thinks maybe he really is just strange and ugly. and as a young boy, when he’d found a rat scavenging for food outside of the ministry, he thought to himself he’d finally found a friend who was like him. unloveable and unwanted. misunderstood.

growing up he never understood the importance put on sex and romance, it isn’t until he’s older that he realizes that he’s demisexual and demiromantic, but it doesn’t really phase him. he never really cared about those things, he doesn’t care that he’s old now and hasn’t had sex, it’s not something he would want unless he really loved someone and had a deeper connection to than just passing lust. although, at night he often dreams of meeting someone he could have a connection with, and those nights are the only ones he really partakes in lust alone in his bed. dreaming of something that could be, but in his mind, is more likely to be just a dream.

when he becomes papa he is terrified, not only of the immense pressure on him to be the best he can be and do good for the church but also of losing himself. yes, he loves the new attention this is giving him and yes, he loves feeling important now. but something just doesn’t sit right in his stomach. again, he’s not sure if he really wanted to be papa anyway or if he just wanted to complete a goal that was thrust upon him at a young age. he tries not to let his papacy change him, and for the most part all it really changes is it brings him out of his shell a little more. he begins talking to more siblings and higher clergy members, but like always, he ends up lonely. they’re never quite interested in copia and more interested in papa, and he doesn’t understand because to him they are one in the same.

his stage presence is very different to his real presence, he likes to let out his “wild side”, as he calls it, when he’s on stage. he feels more comfortable, more free to be sexual and flirty, as well as quite commanding, when he is in front of the crowd. mostly because he knows they like him, that they’re there to see him. it gives him quite the confidence boost, in his performance and his personal life. he doesn’t get quite as depressed as often as he did as cardinal but now his depression holds much harder topics to grasp. things like his identity and where he belongs in the grand scheme of things, and if he will turn bitter like terzo when he eventually is traded in for a newer papa. he hopes not, but envy was a sin that often came easily to him.

is terrified of aging in a similar way to terzo, he feels like he is already very ugly and now that he is getting older he feels like he is becoming even more unattractive. he tends to avoid mirrors as much as possible because his reflection nauseates him, he hates his face and his body with a burning passion.

he does not indulge in the willingness of siblings like his brothers do, while his stage presence may suggest he is a sexual person (which he is honestly) he hasn’t felt any sexual attraction to any sibling of sin so far. most of which only really approach him because he is papa, and while he has no problem with guiding and helping his flock, he does have a problem with it when they ask for him to fuck them. it’s not something he wants.

is also the only papa to not participate in sexual rituals and black masses, though he does oversee them and encourage siblings of sin to participate if comfortable. he celebrates others choice to lust but doesn’t feel tempted to lust for anyone else.

when he is in a relationship with someone, and he does feel sexually attracted to them, he is incredibly eager. he has done his research i can assure you, countless videos and articles on sex and hours of “research” watching porn of the porniest variety. he gets quite horny, and before his partner he masturbated quite often, he isn’t innocent by any means. he is a virgin and is quite awkward, tends to fumble and trip over himself a lot but he isn’t subtle about wanting someone when he does want them. definitely a switch, pls someone peg this guy.

——

hope you liked these!! and if u have any questions or just wanna indulge me in conversation, i would love to talk more in depth about these headcanons!!!

#am i projecting with some of these -especially copia? yes. do i care? not really lol #some of y’all are not gonna like copias pffftttt #i am sticking to the virgin thing bro i’m sorry i do that with a lot of characters pffftt #the band ghost #my writing #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus i headcanons #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii headcanons #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii headcanons #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv headcanons #ghost fic #the band ghost fic #primo emeritus #secondo emeritus #terzo emeritus #copia emeritus #primo #secondo #terzo #copia

[ghouligancentral]

Double Trouble

Rain x Reader x Swiss Rated 18+ for NSFW content

Summary - You happen to catch the attention of two ghouls when your heat unexpectedly starts

Ghoul reader

AFAB/Fem reader with gender-neutral pronouns

A/N- This one took a LONG time for me to finish. Lately, I haven't had much free time, but that's not going to stop me from writing smut! This was written for a prompt I was sent about two months ago (sorry it took so long). This work features two OC sisters, Margery and Colette. I love them dearly and have even written about them before (I didn’t publish it, let me know if that is something you all would like to read). As always this is NSFW content so do not read it if you are a minor or do not want to consume such content.

Enjoy

“Well you look awful,” Sister Margery utters as you shuffle over to her in the dining hall. You know she is right.  

“Thanks, but that’s rich coming from someone who used to babysit Papa Nihil when he was a child,” you grumble in reply before taking a slow sip of your tea. 

“That’s not what I mean,” Margery rolls her eyes before responding to your quip,” For your information, I am, in fact, the same age as Sister Imperator.” 

“Like that’s any better,” you huff under your breath. This comment earns you a stern glance from the older woman, but she decides to keep any retorts to herself. 

“How unwell are you?” she questions, her tone becoming more serious.  

A groan escapes your lips as you slump down a little further in your seat. It all started last night, around midnight to be exact. You had woken up in a cold sweat, your heart pounding as though it were going to escape your chest. The rest of your night had been spent falling in and out of a feverish haze of sleep. 

“Ladies,” Sister Colette chirps as she skips over to the both of you with a plate of food in hand. 

“How are you both—- Oh great hells child!” Colette exclaims when she sees the state you are in,” what happened to you?” 

The younger of the two women is quick to set her things down before moving to look you over. Before you can ever respond to her, she is already inspecting you. 

“You’re burning up,” Colette states as she places her hand against your forehead. The gesture is appreciated but being poked and prodded right now is what your body wants. As she continues to examine you, you can feel an irrational anger bubbling up. 

A small growl escapes you and your lips curl up into a snarl, this is the only warning poor Colette gets before you snap at her, your fangs just barely grazing against her knuckles. 

Both you and Colette stare at each other with wide eyes, shocked by the action. Usually, your weapon of choice was sarcasm, this was the first time you had ever done anything of the kind to a sibling. Sure you had sparred with a couple of the ghouls before, but you had never been aggressive with one of the Abbey’s human residents. 

“I’m so sorry,” you stutter out,” I...I have no idea why I did that.” 

“It’s because you’re about to be in heat,” Margery utters from across the table before flipping to the sports page of the news, seemingly unconcerned about the situation. 

“What?” 

Margery let out a sigh before she carefully folded the newspaper. Your eyes flickered back and forth between Margery and Colette as the older woman set the paper aside. 

“But I’m not old enough, am I?” you question. Even though you are 206 years old, you are still quite young for a ghoul. 

“You are on the younger end of the scale but you are old enough,” Margery replies. 

“Well Rain is only two years older than me, so how come he hasn’t been through a rut yet?” you question. 

“That’s because male ghouls take longer to mature. Did they teach you none of this?” Margery asks with an annoyed expression. You just shake your head ‘no’ in reply. Margery lets out a long sigh as she pushes herself back from the table so that she can stand up. 

“Hmmph! This place is going to heaven in a handbasket, isn’t it? I’ll have to discuss this lack of ghoul education with Sister Imperator,” the older sister grumbles as she begins to make her exit. 

“Where are you going?” Colette calls out after the other woman. 

“I’m going to go let the senior clergy know what’s going on. Take [Y/N] back to your room and wait until I get back,” Margery shouts as she reaches the door, “ oh, and make it quick. The others are already starting to notice.” 

Both you and Colette look over in the direction in which Margery indicated and are met with a set of glowing eyes belonging to a certain multi-ghoul. His intense gaze is locked onto you, far beyond caring about what the water ghoul beside him is rattling on about. His face is tense all of him seems to be on edge. The expression Swiss wears is one of anger mixed with desire, his hand is gripping his fork so tightly that you can see the metal beginning to bend. 

His attention is triggering some strange sensation to well up inside of you. Your heart begins to beat faster as your mind becomes hazy. A thin layer of sweat begins to form on your skin even though the room is cold. It is as though he has got you hypnotized. Even with the blush rising on your cheeks you cannot seem to look away. Everything in your being is telling you to go to him. 

“We need to go,” Colette whispers to you as she grabs your wrist. Her actions snap you out of your trance-like state and you are quick to follow her out of the room. You finally break eye contact with Swiss to weave your way to the exit, but you can feel his eyes watching you the entire time. Before you leave, you cannot help but turn back to get one last glance at the multi-ghoul. You are met with the sight of Rain trying to see what has got Swiss so mesmerized. The water ghoul then follows Swiss’ line of sight straight to you. Upon seeing you, he flashes you a smile and a wave. His gaze is nowhere near as intense as the multi ghouls and you have enough clarity to wave back at him before Colette pulls you out to the dining hall. 

You are quickly ushered to Sister Colette’s room. 

“Well make yourself comfortable,” Colette quips as she plops down onto her bed. You slowly shuffle over and take a seat beside her. Silence surrounds the two of you as you sit, waiting for Margery to arrive with instructions. 

“I’m sorry,” you utter, feeling your cheeks heat up a little. 

“Huh?” 

“I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier. I’d never really want to hurt you,” you explain as you cast your gaze to the stone floor, attempting to avoid any look of anger or betrayal her eyes may hold. You had always made a conscious effort to make the human members of the clergy feel safe around you. The ghouls can often be scary upon the first introduction so that's why you are the one who new siblings are often introduced to first. 

“I know,” Colette sighs as she brings a hand up to gently rub your back, eliciting a purr from you,” I know you would never mean to hurt me or any of the other clergy.” 

Slowly you raise your gaze to meet hers and find that she is offering you a soft smile. 

“Thanks,” you whisper back as the tension in your muscles starts to ease up. 

You both jump when the door slams open before Margery, joined by Sister Imperator, enters the room. The look on Margery’s face combined with the fact that Sister Imperator is present indicates that whatever is about to happen isn’t going to be good.

“It seems that you have started your heat sooner than expected so I’m afraid we are going to have to separate you from all of the other ghouls,” Sister Imperator sighs, “It is too close to tour for us to take the risk of you triggering anyone else’s heat or rut.” 

The breath you’ve been holding is let out as a sigh of defeat. You lower your gaze to the ground, knowing exactly where they planned on locking you away. The east wing, this part of the abbey, had all but been abandoned around 50 years ago. While it was still structurally stable, it was rarely visited by any of the clergy and was only used as a holding area for the ghouls when they were in heat or rut. Often, most of the ghouls had their heat around the same time so they would just all be housed together for that time. 

You remember your first time with the other ghouls in the east wing. While you had expected wild debauchery, what you found was quite the opposite. Most of the others spent their heat curled up in the arms of their mates, while the others, like you and Rain, who were not old enough to go through heat, spent most of their time playing board games and just roughhousing. Honestly, you often looked forward to that time since you got to spend time with the other ghouls just being ghouls, with no siblings to have to worry about frightening or hurting. But this time would be different, since your heat had started seemingly out of nowhere, you were going to be housed alone. It was rotten luck having your first heat and not having anyone else to help you through it. 

“But we can’t just abandon [Y/N] in this state,” Colette exclaims,” I’ll stay with them.” 

“Sister, we cannot risk you, or any other sibling for that matter getting hurt,” Sister Imperator explains. 

Colette let out a soft ‘oh’ to emphasize her understanding, you could hear the disappointment in her voice. 

“Hey, I’ll be fine,” you murmur, giving her a soft smile to put her at ease, but you don’t even believe those words yourself. 

“I have already sent some of the clergy ahead to gather your things and place them in the room in which you will be staying. Now, let’s get you set up in the east wing,” Sister Imperator announces. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You watch as the siblings file out of the room one at a time until just you and Sister Margery remain. 

“Hey, listen, just try and ride it out,” Margery smirks before offering you a wink.  

A flash of something shiny in her hand catches your attention. And with those last words, she is gone, closing the door behind her. You can hear the lock clicking into place along with faint footsteps that soon fade. 

Ride it out? What did she mean by that? 

You trudge over to the bed and flop down on it and attempt to get some rest. 

“Ughhhh,” you groan as you roll over onto your back before tossing your arm over your face in an attempt to block out any light. It seems like there is no comfortable position. The sheets are already damp with sweat but yet you are freezing. You have been in this state for what seems like hours. 

A strange grunting noise draws your attention away from your thoughts and you turn to see a rather disgruntled-looking water ghoul scrabbling to make his way through the window. 

“Rain! What are you—-“ 

Your question is cut off by the sight of Rain falling into the room face first. You wince as you hear his body smack against the stone floor. 

“Are you okay?” You ask as you rush over to check on him. After kneeling beside him, you help the water ghoul sit upright. After giving him a quick once over, you determine that there is surprisingly little damage, save for the bruise beginning to form on the shoulder he landed on. 

“I’m fine,” Rain mumbles as he shakes his head to reorientate himself, little bits of leaves and twigs fall out of his curls. 

“It wasn’t easy but I made it,” he grins as looks up at your face. 

“How did you know where I was?” You question as you help the ghoul to his feet. 

“Well when I couldn’t find you after breakfast, I went looking for you and overheard Sister Imperator and Sister Margery talking about you,” Rain explains as you walk further into the room, the water ghoul opting to stay by the window a few more seconds to straighten out his clothes. 

“Oh is that so?” you smirk. You feel another wave of sickness wash over you. A cold sweat rises on your skin as your head begins to ache once more. OH not again. 

Another shooting pain runs down your body, causing you to keel over with pain. A low groan leaves your lips as you remain hunched over in the middle of the room. The water ghoul quickly rushes to your side. 

“Oh, man. You don’t look so good,” Rain assesses as he helps to stabilize you, before ushering you over to the bed. When he places a hand on your waist you can feel the heat from his touch and the feeling eases your pain a little. 

“Do you know what’s wrong?” the water ghoul questions as he helps you make it to the bed. 

“It’s my heat,” you pant as you lay down on the bed,” it started early.” 

The water ghoul’s head cocks to the side showing his confusion. 

“I thought you weren’t old enough yet,” he utters as he joins you on the bed. 

“Well I guess I’ve always been mature for my age,” you chuckle a little before wincing as another pang of pain rushes through your body. 

“Let me help you,” Rain utters as he rests a hand on your leg. The feeling of his skin on yours has arousal burning deep within your core and you squeeze your legs together in an attempt to get some relief. 

“Help me how?” 

“I can eat you out,” Rain suggests. Your eyes widen at his words, there is no way you hear him correctly. Or did you? With each moment you feel the damp spot between your legs growing, the feeling becoming much harder to ignore.

“Rain, I don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

“But I want to, really,” Rain chirps as he sits up a little straighter, “ I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?” 

“Well okay,” you relent, “ How do you want to do this?” 

“Just lay back and let me do the work,” the water ghoul smiles as he positions himself near the foot of the bed. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as Rain spreads your legs before slotting himself between them. 

A small gasp escapes your lips as you feel his fingers hook onto the waistband of your underwear. 

“Still doing okay?” Rain questions. You give him a thumbs up in response, earning you a pleased hum before he continues with his previous motion. Rain quickly pulls down the fabric to reveal your dripping core. He can't help but let out a little growl at the delicious sight before him. Another whimper leaves you when you feel his warm breath ghost over your now-exposed core. Without much warning, the water ghoul dives in. 

“Rain!” you scream as his tongue laps at your core. Your fingers tug at his hair, earning you a muffled growl from the water ghoul. His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as he attempts to hold you in place. With your head tossed back and your eyes screwed shut, you can make out the sounds of his wet tongue against you and his tail thumping excitedly down against the mattress. 

Each lick and nip Rain gives you send you hurdling closer and closer to your peak. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, but You manage to mumble a few ‘fucks’ when the water ghoul begins sucking gently at your clit. The speed at which your orgasm approaches you is shocking, you’ve never been able to get off this quickly before so the only warning Rain gets before your orgasm washes over you is a tiny whimper of his name. 

Your thighs tremble as an overwhelming amount of pleasure floods your systems, nearly causing you to black out. Rain continues his movements as your thighs tremble beside his head. His nails dig deeper into your flesh as he continues to lap up all of your cum. As the haze of your orgasm starts to fade you can hear a faint grumble of pleasure coming from the ghoul between your legs. 

A soft whimper leaves your lips when you feel Rain pull away from you. Your eyes slowly open to see a wide grin on Rain’s face, his lips and chin are shiny. A low purr escapes you as you feel the ghoul make his way up to you so that he can begin placing nips and licks on your neck. 

“I need you Rain,” you mumble, as the feeling of your heat begins to slowly creep back into your body. 

“Are you sure about this?” Rain questions as he pushes you away from him slightly,” I don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

You can’t help but let a smile spread across your lips. Oh, sweet boy. 

“I need you Rain,” You growl, pulling him down so that he is positioned over you. A gasp escapes the water ghoul as he watches you reach between the two of you to grab his cock and align him at your entrance. 

“Oh fuck,” Rain curses as he slowly pushes into you. Your nails dig into the flesh of his back. Moans flow freely from your lips as he begins moving his hips. The stretch of his entering causes your toes to curl, the pain of your heat now being replaced with pure pleasure. The only sound that can be heard is that of moans and skin on skin. His fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, no doubt leaving behind bruises. 

The water ghoul’s thrusts are deep, filling you to the brim each time. You can hear him growling and panting in your ear as you cling to him. Rain feels your slick leaking out onto him and lets out a groan at the idea of it. If only he could see it. He speeds up his pace as he detects the first hints of his orgasm approaching. A hand snakes down in between your bodies and begins rubbing circles on your clit once more. 

“Rain!” you scream as you feel yet another orgasm approaching, you hope that this part of the Abbey grounds is devoid of people. His thumb presses down harder as he starts placing kisses and bites along your jaw. Your eyes roll back as you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body. Your legs tremble at the intensity of the orgasm and you can hear Rain moan your name as you clamp down on him. He continues to thrust into you as you cum around him. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Rain grunts as he pushes into you for the last time, remaining buried deep within you as he cums. A purr leaves you as you feel his cock twitch as hot ropes of cum fill your insides. Instantly the burning need inside you begins to fade. A happy sigh escapes you as the water ghoul pulls out. For the first time in hours, you feel relaxed. Rain flops down beside you as you both attempt to catch your breath. 

“ Well, Well, Well. Out of all of us, You’re the last ghoul I expected to find here,” a voice chuckles. The words cause both you and Rain to jump. 

“Swiss?” Rain questions as the other ghoul emerge from the corner of the room. 

“You two put on quite the show Swiss smirks as he pushes himself off of the wall he is currently propped up against in favour of making his way closer to you and Rain. 

“How? How did you get in here?” you stutter as you try to wrap your mind around the situation, but that is proving to be very hard given that the haziness you first felt at breakfast is quickly filling your brain once more. 

“Key,” Swiss states before holding up the shiny metal

, but it’s not going to help [Y/N] for very long,”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rain growls as his body tenses in response to the presence of the other ghoul. Just as the words leave his mouth, you can feel the burning need of your heat returning. 

“I mean that [Y/N] needs a ghoul who can knot them. We both know you can’t do that,” Swiss sneers. You can almost see the tension rolling off of his body. In his eyes, there is a wildfire of desire. The water ghoul gets out of bed and meets Swiss in the middle of the room, blocking him from getting to you. 

“Look at you Rainy boy, acting all big and tough,” the multi-ghoul chuckles, “move.” 

Instead of following the older ghoul’s instructions, Rain remains standing in the middle of the room. The once amused smile on the multi-ghoul’s face quickly fades. 

“Move, Rain,” Swiss instructs once more, baring his fangs a little more this time. You had never seen Swiss this aggressive before. He was usually one of the more chill ghouls only acting out if…. Oh no. The clergy hadn’t locked you away soon enough, Swiss’ rut had been triggered. 

“No,” Rain growls, body tensing in preparation for the repercussions of his disobedience. Swiss quickly grabs Rain’s neck before shoving him to the floor, but Rain isn’t going down without a fit. The water ghoul clutches at Swiss’ shirt, pulling the other ghoul down to the floor with him. You hear their growls and roars as the two scuffle on the floor. As you watch the scene unfold before you another pang of heat surges through your body and you quickly become overwhelmed by their display. 

“STOP IT!” you cry, feeling tears roll down your cheeks. The two ghouls’ attentions are quickly drawn to you before the tension between them dies. The both of them let go of each other and make their way to you.

“Shhh, we’re sorry,” Swiss coos as he sits down on the bed before he pulls you close to his body, gently stroking your hair. You bury your head in the multi-ghoul’s shirt as tears continue to roll down your cheeks, however, the longer you remain in Swiss’ arms the pain you were once feeling begins to ease, being replaced by a calming, dizzying haze. 

 You hear Rain chirp a little when he also attempts to comfort you by nuzzling his head against your side.

“Please just make it stop hurting,” you whimper as another tear rolls down your cheek. 

“We can do that,” Swiss whispers before placing a kiss against the top of your head. 

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“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Swiss purrs as he continues to bounce you in his lap, each movement driving him deeper and deeper inside you. A moan is the only response you can manage as the multi-ghoul lands another devastating thrust. A wide grin spreads over Swiss’ lips before he continues with his words

“I told you I was going to make it all better.” 

Another set of hands snake around your waist and, suddenly, you feel a warm body pressing up against your back. The multi-ghoul’s pace doesn’t falter even for a second as Rain’s hands begin to wander over the front of your body, with one settling on one of your breasts while the other makes its way down to your clit. 

You gasp as you feel his fingers begin to rub gentle circles on the sensitive bud. The intensity of it causes you to throw your head back to rest against his shoulder. A purr rumbles deep in his chest as he nuzzles his head into your shoulder. Arousal builds in your core as you feel yourself drawing closer and closer to your high. The feeling of Rain’s erection rutting against your back causes your pussy to flutter. When Swiss feels you clench around him, he lets out a low groan before increasing his pace. 

“That’s it. Cum for us,” Swiss coos as he moves one of his hands off of your waist down so that he can paw at your rear. The combination of the multi-ghoul’s words and the motion of Rain’s fingers send you over the edge. With a cry, you are cumming. Wave after wave of pleasure floods your body as your legs begin to tremble. Your mind goes blank as liquid bliss rushes through your veins. You can hear the praises of both ghouls but their voices seem fuzzy and far away. 

Swiss stops thrusting before Rain pulls his hand away in an attempt to not overstimulate you, but just as you begin to come down from your orgasm, that gnawing need in the pit of your stomach returns. 

“How was that?” Rain asks as he brushes a strand of hair stuck to your sweaty face behind your ear. 

“It.. it still hurts, I–I need more,” you pant. Even though your body is beyond exhausted, you can still feel a burning need inside of you. 

“Fuck,” Swiss growls before he spins you around so that you are positioned on your hands and knees facing Rain. The multi-ghoul leans over you, covering your frame with his larger one. 

“Take care of Rain while I take care of you,” he purrs before thrusting back into you. A pitiful moan escapes your lips as the multi-ghoul fills you. Your eyes screw shut as Swiss sets a punishing pace as he chases after his own high. Once your eyes flutter back open, you are met with the sight of Rain’s hard member positioned a few centimeters in front of your parted lips. You eagerly open your mouth and stick out your tongue as an invitation, one which the water ghoul is eager to accept. 

Once your lips close around Rain, a loud moan falls from his mouth. Rain can't help himself as he begins to gently thrust into your warm mouth. His hands thread through your hair as he slowly pushes himself deeper down your throat. At that moment, Swiss gives one particularly hard thrust, causing you to gag around the water ghoul. This gag sets Rain off and he quickly begins fucking your face vigorously. After gagging a few more times, you manage to figure out Rain’s rhythm. You moan around the water ghoul when you feel Swiss’ thrusts becoming deeper and more focused, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your waist. 

“Shit,” Swiss pants in a breathy voice as he continues to rail into you. You can feel the signs of another orgasm quickly rising up. When he snakes a hand around to begin rubbing your clit, you know it won't be much longer until you reach your peak. 

The feeling of the multi-ghoul’s fingers has you moaning and gasping, the sounds being muffled by Rain. Just as you are about to reach your orgasm, Rain gives your final thrust before filling your mouth with his cum. The warm liquid flowing down your throat has you finishing as well. Your hands fist into the sheets as bursts of white-hot pleasure course through your veins. The only sound that comes out of you is a pitiful whimper, your eyes screwing shut as you ride out your high. As your orgasm continues, you are barely aware of the multi-ghoul currently chasing his high. 

“Oh fuck,” Rain hisses, his nails digging even deeper into your waist. It only takes three more thrusts to have him cumming deep inside you. Your name flows freely from his lips as ropes of hot cum coat your insides. The both of you remain locked together as you attempt to catch your breath. 

“How was that?” Swiss pants as a wide grin appears on his face. 

“That was wow,” you can’t even find the right words to describe how you are feeling at the current moment. Any discomfort, pain, or arousal you were feeling has melted away leaving only a feeling of warmth and relaxation. You hiss a little at the sensation of Swiss pulling out. 

“Sorry,” Swiss murmurs before he pulls you back so that you are sitting, curled up in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. You feel his rumbling purr as you remain seated in his lap but you know you can’t get too comfortable just yet. 

“Let me go clean up a little bit and I’ll be right back.” 

Swiss is reluctant to let you go but decides that this isn’t the time for holding you captive. With a deep sigh, he unwraps his arms from around your body, allowing you the freedom to get up. You make your way to the bathroom. Wiping the sweat from your brow with a warm rag before moving to do the same between your legs. When you enter the bedroom once more you are met with the sight of the two ghouls quietly chatting together. 

You make a small sound to announce your presence prompting both of them to look up. Rain quickly motions you over to join them on the bed. As you get comfortable in Swiss’ lap once more, Rain speaks up. 

“We want to mark you. To make you my mate,” Rain muses as his thumb caresses your cheeks. 

“Our mate,” Swiss corrects as he flashes a toothy grin. 

“Yes, our mate,” Rain repeats as his eyes remain locked onto you, “ What do you think?” 

“I’d like that,” you reply, feeling a blush rising on your cheeks. 

“Really?!” Rain chirps, his tail flicking excitedly behind him,” you really want to be our mate?” 

“Yes, Rain. I want to be with you and Swiss,” you grin as you bring a hand up to caress the water ghoul’s hair. 

You scream as you feel Rain’s fangs sink into your neck, the action is quickly followed by a soothing tongue running over the wound. The water ghoul pulls away from your neck just long enough to utter something like ‘your turn’ to the multi ghoul. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel Swiss brush your hair away, giving him access to the other side of your neck. He licks his lips in anticipation before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the skin. The older ghoul is taking his time and savoring the moment, he gives the lobe of your ear a quick nip before sinking his fangs into you. 

You cry out once more at the feeling, your nails digging into the ghoul’s back. Your ears pick up on a deep growl coming from Swiss as his mouth remains locked onto you. 

“Now you’re ours.” 

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I hope you enjoyed this. Like, comments, and reblogs are really appreciated.

//Ghouligan

#the band ghost fic #the band ghost #swiss ghoul x reader #rain x reader #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #this is 100% genuine smut #this took longer than i thought #so many words #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader

[emeritus-fuckers]

How would the papas react to walking in on reader humming/singing another papa's song?

Had to exclude young Nihil from this one since it wouldn't really work. - Jez

Papas reacting to their s/o singing another Papa's song

Primo

He doesn't mind.

He focuses on the fact that you're singing rather than what you're singing.

Very sweet about it, too.

You could sing some of the filthiest lyrics his brothers or father came up with and he's just enamoured.

Will start humming along while gardening.

Secondo

It better fucking be Primo's.

If it's Terzo's or Nihil's, he clicks his tongue.

"It's not about you singing, my love, you sing wonderfully. It's about what you're singing."

He's gonna sing his and Primo's songs with you.

Terzo's and Nihil's are forbidden.

He refuses to let Terzo make fun of him because you like his songs better.

Terzo

Terzo is your biggest fan.

Similarly to Primo, he doesn't care what you sing. He cares that you sing.

Sings with you.

Might try to get you to record a cover with him.

Or just your own cover.

Listens to it while falling asleep. Ends up having wet dreams.

Will probably call you so you hear him masturbate and so you know he loves you.

Copia

If anyone ever had doubts about Nihil being his dad, they should see the dreamy look he gives you when he hears you sing.

Like Primo and Terzo, doesn't care whose song it is, as long as it's you.

He loves you! So much!

And now you're just even more adorable, humming to yourself while working.

He tries to be quiet about it when he heard it and decided to peak in.

He's clumsy. He ended up falling into your room. I love him.

Will try to play everything off like nothing happened.

Don't speak of this again.

Old Nihil

I will never let go of Nihil getting offended by the dumbest shit.

Like this. He's gonna be a pouty old man because your subconsciousness chose to sing songs made by his sons.

"You should be singing my songs, they are way better!"

"Honey, you've made like... Two songs your entire life."

"And they are damn good songs!"

He's just like a sad toddler and it's hilarious.

Just hum Mary on a Cross and he's all sunshine and rainbows again.

#ghost band #ghost bc #ghost #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa nihil #ask #papa emeritus i #primo #secondo #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #terzo #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #old papa nihil #old papa nihil x reader #primo x reader #secondo x reader #terzo x reader #copia x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader

[egonspenglerishot]

Young Dumb and Broken

Papa Nihil x OC (Celine)

Warning: mentions of self harm

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Celine cursed herself as she sat in the infirmary. They’d found her fresh wounds on her arms. The sound of wheels squeaking caught her attention. An oxygen tank was being carted along…Papa Nihil! Oh god the antipope was definitely going to scold her.

The sound stopped as she looked away, hearing the popes ragged breathing. She dare not look.

“Mia cara what are you doing here? Seestor Imperator said that you should be back to your chores by now”

She looked into his white eyes and teared up. The cuts burned and her heart hurt. She loved him dammit but he was to busy with Imperator.

“Oh satana what’s wrong?”

He sat beside Celine with a small groan and held her face. She leaned into his touch, taking all the attention she could before Imperator ruined it. He may have been naive and slightly stupid, but he knew she was in love with him. They way she acted when he was around or when Imperator dragged him away for work. He knew that Celine hated Imperator.

“Per favore perdonami papà. I’m being silly”

Nihil wiped her tears away and shushed her. He didn’t think she was being silly at all. He knew what it was like to love and not be loved. He kissed Celine’s forehead and chuckled.

“Shush. Your not being silly, and you can be honest with me. I know you’ve liked me fire awhile, and to be honest Caro I love you to”

Celine looked at him her mismatched eyes wide. He….He loved her. Before she could speak he kissed her gently to keep her quiet.

“Now let’s clean you up and get you to bed, don’t worry. I’ll stay by your side cara…we need eachother”

(T: Please forgive me Papa)

#old papa nihil x reader #papa nihil x reader #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfiction

[theratboyking]

Sincerely Yours

Pairing: Various Papas x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: The papas send you a letter

Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Primo:

La mia rosa,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health and that everything is running as well as it can be. It truly is a shame that the ministry could not spare you for even just a week. Italy is amazing this time of year; the flowers are in bloom. How I wish you could see them. Perhaps next time we will be able to spend a holiday back at the family's home. You would love it, I am absolutely sure of it. I’m hoping to be home soon. The days are starting to drag on. There’s only so much that I can put up of Nihil’s shit before I lose my mind.

Until you are in my arms again, Primo

Secondo:

la mia luce stellare,

You would think that with my retirement, these stupid trips for the ministry would come to an end. Or, at the very least, they would allow me to have the company of my wife at the very least. A week is far too long to be without you, stella. I feel as if I am a man stranded out at sea. Forever searching for your light. I long for your touch, your kiss, ooh satanas, I long to be lost in you. I hope you are following the rules amore, but then again you always love breaking them. Always love to keep your papa wanting more. Not even the dark lord is going to be able to keep me off of you when I return. I should be home by the end of the week and, with any luck, sooner.

With all my eternal love, Secondo Emeritus

Terzo:

La mia dea,

They say that poetry is the fruit of love. The way to the heart, as the scholars say, no? Words never seemed to allude me but with you, amore. But with you, all the charm I possess seems to slip from my grasp. No, you have sent this casanova crawling at your feet. I wish to bask in your light. I want my pleasure to begin and end with you. To spend my days with you. To spend my nights caught in your embrace. Oh, how I long to be in your arms, to hold you in mine. Come la mia anima invoca la tua. Il mio cuore raggiunge solo te. I can only hope you feel the same. Satanas, I hope you do.

Awaiting your response, Papa Terzo Emeritus iii

Copia:

Amore,

Perhaps it’s silly to be writing you, but would you indulge this old man. How are you? I hope the abbey is treating you well and that everything is still Okie Dokie. I am doing well, and so are the ghouls. They all send their best wishes to you. The crowds love us; we’ve reached new heights that I never even imagined. It’s just as we talked about cara mia. How I wish you were here to enjoy it with me. To be honest, life on the road is starting to lose its charm. I miss you, amore. I miss waking up and having you in my arms. Are you sure that you can’t spare at least a week? A week and I could die a happy man, amore.

Forever yours, Copia

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus x reader

[feralforpapa]

Missionary Man [Part 1]

Papa Emeritus III/Terzo x AFAB!Reader

Plot: You’ve been an assistant to Terzo and the clergy for a year. After some weeks of not getting to spend time with him due to your hectic schedules, you finally get the chance to have one on one time with him while accompanying him on tour.

Warnings: Flirting, mentions of sex

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“Does Nihil have to insist on sending out this Message From The Clergy newsletter every month? I understand writing about what’s going on in the ministry- but this section on this year’s 5 greatest saxophone solos is just…”

“I take it saxophone isn’t your instrument of choice, si?” Terzo chuckled as he smoothed out the lapels of his suit, checking out his appearance in the dressing room mirror.

You were traveling with the band for their current ritual tour; you were an assistant to the band whenever they travelled. It could be grueling work at times, especially when Terzo and the Ghouls weren’t having a smooth night, or if the after parties got too wild and you were stuck trying to corral a bunch of drunken Ghouls. But, It was interesting fun none-the-less, though. You preferred it over hanging around the ministry all the time like some of the Siblings of Sin did. However, when the tour seemed to drag on and on, you found yourself craving the sanctity of your own room and quiet time more and more.

“I don’t have a problem with the saxophone, Terz’. I just think it’s a bit biased that your father named himself as first place for all 10 of them,” you laughed, pausing to let your eyes skim over to another section.

You smiled when you spotted a photo of Copia holding one of his pet rats.

“This is cute, though.” You pointed out a certain page in question to show Terzo. “The Cardinal’s Rat of the Month. I see he chose Esther this time- oh- Primo has gardening tips, too.”

You continued to smile down at the page, taking in Copia’s picture and finding yourself thinking about how striking he looked. His painted eyes stared back at you through the page, and you found it peculiar to be seeing him in this type of way. You liked the Cardinal well enough; the two of you had gotten just about as close as you had with Terzo, and some of the other members of the clergy - specifically the Ghouls that helped front the band. Copia had always come across as endearingly awkward to you, though. Whether he was showing off his rats or being seen around the ministry riding leisurely on his trike. Perhaps that was where his charm came from, though. There was an innocence about him that wasn’t very common in this line of work.

“Mhm, striking and-“ Terzo paused running a comb through his raven black hair to get his part just right. “Perfect,” he purred at himself.

“Hellooo.” You waved the newsletter in front of Terzo’s face to block his gaze from the mirror. “I hope you’re listening. Nihil’s definitely gonna ask if you read this.”

“Mia cara, please. Your Papa is getting ready for a Ritual, eh? I have more pressing matters than the old man trying to occupy his retirement time.”

“As an assistant to the clergy and, especially, a Papa - it’s my job to tell you that you look great,” you replied, laying the newsletter on the vanity where Terzo sat, gazing at him through the mirror. “And you do. Trust me. The women and men are gonna be throwing their garments on stage and offering up their first borns to Sathanas to you, like always.”

“Hmm, si.” Terzo turned his stone gaze to you through the mirror this time, and his mismatched eyes studied your face. “And when can I expect to add more of your garments to my ever growing collection?” His statement was punctuated by a sly smirk.

You stared at that piercing gaze of his through the mirror, only tearing your eyes away long enough to try and hide the blush on your cheeks. When you did muster the courage to turn your eyes back to him in the mirror, he was still staring at you. Terzo had a natural scowl to his expression; he always looked like he was ready to scold someone. His intimidating expression was only enhanced by his papal paint and that coy smirk that was always plastered on his - very kissable - lips.

You scanned over his eyes once more and had to make a conscious effort not to bit your lip right in front of him and give your neediness away. You were trying to hold onto some semblance of professionalism. But that was always impossible whenever you were alone in a room with a man that embodied the very definition of lust.

“Oh, so I am still catching you eye, then?” You hummed back at him, letting a smile tug at the corner of your lips.

Terzo scoffed at you, turning his head to look at you directly this time as he observed you from the corners of his eyes. He was looking at you in the same way that a lion might fixate it’s attention on it’s s next meal. It seemed as if Terzo had the same idea based on that familiar glint in his eyes.

“Don’t be coy, Tesoro. Don’t try to pretend that you and I don’t eye fuck each other during black mass all the time.” Terzo’s tongue brushed against his bottom lip, like he was re-living some of the past encounters the two of you had in the past. “I have missed your company. Don’t think that you aren’t on my mind.”

The man was terrifying and suave all rolled into one, and it was slightly infuriating at times.

You weren’t shy or innocent by any means, of course. After all, you were working for a satanic clergy - but, even so, Terzo had a way of making you clam up and feel shy. That being said: you weren’t any stranger to his charms, or his voracious appetite for carnal pleasures. You had only been with the ministry for a year, and it had only taken your first 2 weeks of that time for you to succumb to his charm. You had no complaints there, though. It was a well known fact that he had bedded a decent half of the clergy’s members - how he didn’t yet have any little Terzo’s running around was a compliment within itself.

You chewed into your lip, replaying the smoothness of his tone over and over in your ear. His tone and accent were like as pleasing as the feeling of silk against skin - it was the best way to describe it. And hearing his voice tell you that he missed you was enough to sent you melting into a puddle right where you sat. Somehow you managed to keep your composure, though, but all you really wanted to do was pounce him right then and there. If you weren’t on a time limit for him to go onstage, that would have been the case.

“We do make eyes at each other during Mass,” you admitted through a sigh, crossing your legs to stave off the arousal settling between your legs. “I’ve missed you, too. I know Sister Imperator keeps us both on a fast-paced schedule a lot of the time. I feel like Mass is the only time I’ve seen you these last few weeks.”

You turned your gaze down to your hands as you fidgeted with your fingers, but you could still feel those piercing eyes of Terzo’s boring into you. You pulled your eyes back up to his, locking in a stare with him for a moment. It was almost funny, because you knew that fans from the rituals would kill for a moment like this.

“Maybe I should start coming to confession. I’d see more of you then, yeah?” You finally added.

“I would make time for you either way, bellissima. But, if you have much to confess, then who is a Papa to deny you, eh?”

The clergy kept you rather busy at times, and with Terzo being a busy Papa, it was safe to say he always had a lot on his plate. But, you were thankful for times like these when you could accompany he and the Ghouls while they toured, and it surprisingly provided a more intimate setting where it was just the two of you. You knew Terzo had a harem of siblings that were always vying for a chance to get some time alone with him - whether it just be because they wanted to have confession with him, or a little more than just a confession.

You’d be a liar if you said it didn’t send the smallest tinge of jealousy through you whenever you saw him getting involved with someone else. But, at the same time, you knew that it was just who he was in his nature, and it was just a benefit of his role within the church. Everyone wanted to be close to him; no matter if that meant physically, mentally, or spiritually. He had a role to fulfill and he did it well - too well sometimes. He was so good at what he did that it was the sole reason why you felt this ache in the pit of your stomach for him at night, and it was the reason why your hand often found it’s way between your thighs during those times. The man could have you begging for Lucifer’s mercy, even when he wasn’t around.

You smiled again, eyeing Terzo closely this time. “Then I have confessions to make, Papa.”

Terzo smirked, keeping his eyes level with yours. You watched his chest rise as he took in a deep, satisfying breath before he let it out slowly. His gloved hands came up to smooth out the lapels of his suit as he finally lifted himself out of his chair, standing in front of you as his eyes cast a shade darker. He reached out, placing his gloved fingers beneath your chin to lift your head up to look at him.

“And what is your confession?” Terzo purred, grasping your chin gently.

#papa terzo #terzo #papa emeritus iii #the band ghost #daddy terzo #ghost band #ghost bc #papa terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #ghost bc fan fiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus fan fiction #ghost band imagine #papa emeritus iii smut

[ghulehunknown]

Papa’s Worship

Terzo x F Reader

Day 4 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**WARNING: EXPLICIT, NSFW**

Also available on AO3!

“Papa’s Worship”

CW/Tags: CMNF, feminine reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (cunnilingus), female body worship, female orgasm

Summary: Terzo needs to give you pleasure after Black Mass…

Word Count: 1700

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After Mass, you started to help rearrange the Unholy Books and papers left behind. Those damn ghouls, you thought to yourself. Always such a mess with them.

“You go ahead,” you called to your sisters, and they obliged, either knowing your evil scheme or just happy that someone offered to pick up the slack so they could leave early. You wanted to take as long as you could to rearrange the chapel while you waited for your beloved. Terzo and his entourage left from one of the side doors, slipping away to Nihil’s private office. God, how would you know when he’d be done now?

Around 20 minutes passed and you couldn’t find anything else to pass the time. You finished up your duties and began to walk down the corridors very slowly, taking a longer path to get to your room. You heard running footsteps coming down the hall, quicker and quicker until -

“Amore mio,” Terzo whispered breathlessly into your ear as he wrapped you into an embrace. His chest was heaving - he was actually out of breath! The man who said he’d never be caught dead doing cardio. (“I am already in such great physical shape, no?” he would say whenever the ghouls would try to get him to come along to the gym.)

“Terzo!” you cried, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. “Were you…running?” you asked, incredulous.

“Si amore, I had to come to you, mio amato,” he said, cupping your chin in his strong hands. “Those motherfuckers,” he growled, “they wanted to keep me there forever. I thought, enough with this shit! I need my bella donna seeing stars.” He gestured with both hands, mimicking an explosion.

“How did you get away?”

“Ehhh,” he said with a shrug. “Told them I had to shit.” You both laughed. So crass, your Papa.

“I see someone doesn’t give a fuck what the Clergy thinks now that you’re in charge,” you said still laughing.

“Fuck them, fuck that old man, and fuck that annoying Copia too, with his fucking - ” he trailed off, vaguely mimicking the Cardinal’s lanky gait and outlining his upper lip with his finger as if drawing the Cardinal’s thin mustache. (“I want that old bastard to take a paternity test, there can be no way I’m related to that little shit!” he’d say afterwards whenever Copia corrected him during meetings.)

He grasped you by the waist. “All that fucking matters,” he said sexily, “is making you wet beyond sin.” He bit your jawline then kissed you there.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you in the opposite direction, down another hall to his Papal suite. He led you in, where candles were already burning and the plush purple bedsheets laid taut.

Papa must have sent a ghoul in to tidy up his room, because your morning makeout session left the bed a mess, and nearly made him late to his meetings. You didn’t go further earlier this morning, as he begged you to tease him so he’d have a raging hard on during Mass. And his robes didn’t quite conceal it either.

He closed the door, and now you were completely alone. “Fucking finally,” he said, sighing heavily and looking very relieved. “We’re alone.”

You blushed as he kissed you deeply, running his fingers through your luscious hair. You caressed his biceps while he began kissing your neck, tickling your earlobe, brushing your collarbone. He unlaced your bodice, exposing your bare chest. He swirled your nipples in his mouth, alternating breasts until you were breathing heavily. He sighed deeply, content to be within your bosom and taking his time.

“Take me, Terzo, please,” you whispered. “I want you.”

“Shhh Sorella, these things take time. I will please you as I see fit. And you shall have me.” He picked you up effortlessly and carried you to his king sized bed, setting you down gently and continuing kissing your breasts. He removed your habit, and threw it to the ground. “Mmmm, you delicious naughty, naughty thing,” he murmured, excited to find you had not worn panties to Mass.

You blushed again. You had hoped to flash him your ass at some point while bending over to grab the Unholy Books, but fucking Imperator was behind you the whole time.

“You wicked succubus, you wanted to leave your juices for the staff to clean off the pews?” He whined. “Ho bisogno di ti. You’re all mine, all mine,” he said between kisses. He ran a hand down your body, sending chills down your spine. He made his way to your inner thigh, and began to tease your entrance. He was practically giddy. “Mmmmm, so fucking wet, sweet Lucifer. I need to taste you.”

You caressed his face, and ran your hands through his raven hair. You looked into his beautifully mismatched eyes and he felt like home.

“Mia splendida donna, amore mio, I want to thank you. You have been so patient with me as I’ve navigated all this…” his voice trailed off as he waved the air. “…shit. It has not been easy being Papa now, but you…you make things so much easier.”

“It’s not an easy job you’re doing,” you said, dismissing any of your own stress. You touched his face with your fingertips, noticing the extra wrinkles in his forehead and the bags now under his eyes.

He took your hands in his. “Sorella, I adore you. Let me worship you.”

You moaned as he caressed your clit with a gloved hand. He inserted his index finger into your entrance and made a “come hither” motion, driving you wild and making you cry out his name - (‘oh Terzo!’). “Yes Sorella, call my name,” he said. He played with your clit again, making gentle yet firm circles. He traced the letters of your name on your flesh with delicate ease. He continued to kiss you softly while he touched you.

“Come,” your Papa commanded. He knew by the sound of your breathing how close you were. He could practically command you to orgasm, one of his many devilish talents. He drilled his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, circling your clit with his thumb. He cupped the back of your head with his other hand and kissed you passionately. Fucking Lucifer fuck, he was skilled. He had obviously been paying attention to Copia’s sermon on fingering - or perhaps Terzo had told the Cardinal just how to do it, to one-up him?

The leather from his gloves only heightened the experience, filling your cunt. “Come for me, please,” he whispered into your ear, practically pleading. “Would you sing for your Papa?” He kissed you again.

Your back arched as you felt your orgasm take over. Moaning into Terzo’s mouth as you came was one of your favorite things; feeling him inside you and right next to you all at once made you blush all over like a schoolgirl - he could see exactly how you reacted to him. You lost control of your entire body as a wave of pleasure engulfed you. He continued kissing you through the wave of pleasure.

“Yes that’s it, moan, Principessa,” he whispered, peppering your face with sweet kisses as you came down from your high. You came to and caught his gaze, love and adoration in his eyes. He snickered, and looked down at your chest, which was practically beet red. “Yes I always know I have done a good job when all the blood rushes to your heart,” he placed his left hand over your heart. “Almost as if your love for me is contained in one place. Mio cuore, mia vita,” he continued, bringing his gloved fingers dripping in your cum into his mouth. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”

Still breathing heavy, you held your beloved’s face and kissed him over and over, making up for the stolen kisses you’d not exchanged all day. He took his gloves off and held you close. The warmth from his hands was welcoming and comforting. He held you to his chest for what seemed like an eternity, and you could stay there forever.

“I need to piss,” he said, breaking the silence. Both of you laughed.

“Terzo!” you exclaimed, feigning annoyance and playfully hitting him in the chest. He pretended to be wounded. Your Papa was so blunt, and so playful. You coyly brought the sheets to cover your indecency but he only tore them off again and laughed.

Suddenly he hopped up and went into the master bathroom. “Silly me, I forgot something,” he said, returning only a second later. You mumbled, and rested your eyes, almost falling asleep on the pillow. He spread your legs quickly and slid his tongue along your still wet folds. The tip of his tongue wildly flicked from side to side. Still sensitive, you yelped and bucked your hips but your Papa was stronger. He laughed again, almost evilly. “Still so wet for me, my brava ragazza,” he said. “You didn’t think I’d let your cum go to waste, eh?”

Your eyes rolled back as he drank from your cunt, desperate for you. He moaned but you could hardly stand to be touched anymore, the overstimulation driving you wild. “Fucking hell!” he exclaimed excitedly, finally satisfied. He hovered over you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. His Papal face paint was smudged all over, and you could see his faint laughter lines beside the corners of his mouth. Yes your Papa was getting older, you thought sadly. But he still fucked like a young man.

“Tomorrow, you tie me up to this bedpost and smother me with that beautiful cunt, si?” He grabbed your chin in his hand and kissed your cheek. “Smother me in that pussy, Sorella, don’t let me up for air until I’ve pleasured you fully.”

“Yes, my love,” you said, giving him another smooch. Your scent lingered on him as he got up from the bed.

He cursed Lucifer’s name and spoke Italian, but you think he murmured “deliziosa figa,” as he trailed off to the bathroom finally.

He poked his head from the bathroom door. “And when I get back, I’m going to fuck you into that mattress so hard you’ll forget your name.”

Italian to English Translations

- Amore mio (my love)

- mio amato (my beloved)

- Bella donna (beautiful woman)

- Sorella (sister)

- Ho bisogno di ti (I need you)

- Mia splendida donna (my amazing woman)

- Principessa (Princess)

- Mio cuore, mia vita (my heart, my life)

- deliziosa figa (delicious pussy)

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