#papa emeritus ii fanfiction
Text
soft, sleepy sex with the papas
summary: Four short-ish scenarios, one for each Papa, in which you get to do some crossword-solving with Primo, come home after a night-out with Secondo, wake up with Terzo or watch a movie with Copia.
content: 4.8k words in total (each is 1k-1.4k words), f!readers, sort of established relationships, dom/sub undertones if you squint, obviously these contain smut, more detailed warnings in each part, 18+ MDNI
Masterlist – Ao3 link
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Primo
content: p in v because peepaw can still get it
Half-asleep on Primo’s bare chest, you draw lazy patterns into the fuzzy hair on his left pec, your palm resting just above his steady heartbeat. He keeps one arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding a weathered little book that is open on a half-done crossword puzzle, while his other hand slowly fills in the empty squares. It’s Italian, so you gave up trying to help him a while ago, dozing to the sound of graphite scratching on paper.
But you know you won’t sleep yet. There is a gentle but very persistent simmer in the pit of your stomach. You’ve wanted your Papa all day but when he got home earlier, tired and irritable after an argument with Sister, you hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now, after a light dinner and some restful time with you curled up against him, he seems a lot calmer.
Inhaling his slightly herbal scent, you decide to at least try – he’s going to let you know if he’s not up for it. A kiss to his wrinkly neck and your fingers start trailing from his chest down to his belly. Slow circles with your index and middle finger, caressing the saggy skin with as much affection as you can pour into such a delicate touch.
You feel him stir, so you move your hand further down, stroking his abdomen. A soft hum deep inside his chest. His hand sinks, the pencil slipping from his fingers. It’s your cue to keep going, so you toy with the hem of his pajama pants. When you let your hand slip beneath the elastic, you’re excited to find him half-hard, curved against the left side of his pelvis.
He’d been struggling with intimacy as of late – his age, all the hard work and general worries catching up with him, a sort of vicious cycle that led to some changes in your shared bedroom. He takes care of you in other ways, very generously, but tonight, for once, he seems truly relaxed, and you feel him slowly harden against your palm.
“Do you feel good?” you whisper. “Should I keep going?”
“Mhm.”
You stamp wet kisses down his neck, sucking on the spot that always makes him shudder. You continue to slowly stroke him, a leisurely pace, until he’s fully hard and leaking onto your fingers.
“I thought you are tired,” he murmurs.
You smile. “I am, but I just miss you so much.”
“I’m right here, la mia rosa. Every night.”
More kisses. You softly suck on the spot below his jaw, and his hips buck up into your touch. “You know what I mean, Papa.”
Primo draws a sharp breath, the arm he had wrapped around you slowly uncurling as he throws the book across the bed. His hand moves to your ass, a tight squeeze and he urges you to move closer. You crawl on top of him, hot, liquid excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of finally having him inside of you again.
With one hand, you prop yourself up on his chest while you move your sleeping shorts out of the way with the other. You settle on his cock, rubbing your wet folds over his length and slicking it with your arousal. You grind on him a few times and you both gasp at the feeling. His hands fly to your hips, sharp fingernails digging deeper into your flesh when you finally place him at your entrance. He slips inside, the stretch immensely rewarding after going without it for so long, and despite the sleepiness still clinging to you, you try your best to move on him. Limited energy has you resting your upper body on his, chest against chest, only separated by your shirt. You lean in for a kiss as you slowly roll your hips. The pace you’re setting with your mouth as well as your body is slow, almost sluggish, but even so you can feel the ripples of pleasure all over your body.
“Amore?” Primo whispers against your lips and you hum into his mouth. “I missed you, too.”
And then he’s suddenly thrusting up into you. You moan against his tongue and he does it again, chuckling as you keen and cling to the headboard. A shudder tears through your whole body and your mouth slips from his, your face slotting against his neck instead when he gives another thrust.
Primo wraps his arms around you in a hug. “You’re tired, let me do the rest.”
You want to protest, remind him of his back issues and the pain he’d felt in his hip joint all week, but he’s already rolling you over. He knows you wouldn’t have been able to cum from your slow movements alone and he also knows you wouldn’t have minded, but he always tells you that making you cum is the highest form of worship for him. And Primo loves to worship.
As soon as he’s on top of you he shifts into position, propped up on his elbows on either side of you pushing back into your dripping entrance very slowly. You hold him steady, arms wrapped around his shoulder to try and keep him for overexerting himself. His rhythm isn’t much faster than yours, but his movements are more deliberate – precise thrusts hitting you exactly where you need him. Already you clench around him, moaning as more pleasure pools into your lower belly.
Primo is breathing heavily and the frequency of his pants tells you he’s close.
“Touch yourself for your Papa, amore,” he whispers.
You move your hands between your bodies and start to rub your clit. It doesn’t take much until you completely let go. You come almost simultaneously, moaning into each others skin as your bodies tremble with pleasure. You can feel his hot seed dripping out of you when he shifts, a sharp hiss as you eventually untangle your limbs.
Primo slowly, carefully, rolls off of you, sinking back into his pillow with a low, pained hmpf. You lean over and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but he’s already waving his hand to stop you, a delighted sigh leaving his lips as his body relaxes. You snuggle back into him, kissing the hot, sweaty skin on his cheek. This has exhausted him but the blissful expression on his usually so grim face tells you he won’t regret it no matter how much his joints are going to hurt tomorrow.
“I love you, la mia rosa,” he mumbles into your hair. “Thank you for reminding your Papa that you still desire him so.”
“Hm, I love you, too,” you mumble, already drifting off.
The last thing you hear is his chuckle and the click of the switch as he turns off the light.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Secondo
content: biting, praise, v fingering, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones if you squint
The smell of smoke, sweat and liquor still lingers in your nose, now accompanied by the sweet and woody scent of Secondo’s sandalwood shower gel. The club had been packed, despite it’s exclusivity, and after a night of dancing and being pushed around by other bodies, you’re ready to fall asleep with his heavy arms draped around you. After all of the noise and the heavy, blasting music, you welcome the soft quiet of his bedroom, the dull buzzing of his toothbrush and your own even breathing the only sounds in your ears.
When Secondo exits the bathroom, the open door casts a narrow ray of fluorescent light onto your half-sleeping form. He quickly flips the switch and closes the door as quietly as he can. In the near-dark, he observes the silhouette of your body, all the curves and lines and edges he’s grown to love so much. You haven’t been sleeping in this bed for very long – it’s only been a few weeks since he decided he won’t let you leave again. Now, as he sheds his bathrobe and crawls under the silky sheets to join you, he thinks that it was probably the best decision of his life.
You can feel his naked body settling against your back, the warmth of his soft skin drawing a sigh from your lips. His strong arm wraps around you, pushing under your armpit to press flat against your front, pulling you even closer. As his hand moves to gently cup your breast, you can feel a tired exhale against your neck.
“As much as I love going out with you,” he murmurs. “This is my favorite.”
His lips softly press to the velvet skin below your ear. A few slow but needy kisses leave a wet trail all over your neck, his hand squeezing your breast in tandem with each one.
“You looked so beautiful tonight, amore.” Another kiss, this time to the back of your neck, and a shiver rolls down your spine. “Everyone in the club envied me.”
You chuckle softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him more space. “I’m pretty sure they were staring at you, my love.”
“Ah, che sciocchezza!” His lips attach to your skin, sucking gently at first, then with more force. You indulge him, the stinging sensation barely registering with your exhaustion as he bites into your flesh. He keeps busy there until you whimper at the burning sensation.
But Secondo knows he is right and it’s the reason why you have this big purple bruise blossoming on your neck right now. He is nothing but attentive, observant, and it gives him great confidence to watch other people admire you, then flinch away when they notice that you’re with him. He loves to subtly show you off – until someone actually tries to chat you up like today. It’s always the same, a sudden surge of need to show everyone that you’re his and he’s all over you, the public setting quickly forgotten. Secondo almost fucked you right there on the dance floor, not unprecedented, but after someone repeatedly rammed their elbow into his side he decided that it was too busy tonight.
But it’s okay because by now the high wore off, leaving him only mildly horny and mostly sleepy just like you. He thinks he wants to be gentle now, slowly fuck you both to sleep.
His lips come off your neck with a wet pop. He pushes his other arm underneath you, fingers searching the heat between your legs, but when he lets his hand slide down your middle, he’s met with the fabric of your panties.
“Ah.” He tsks softly into your ear, pulling them down slightly. “Since when do we wear clothes to bed, eh?”
You groan tiredly but don’t object, lifting your leg to help him remove the piece of fabric. Soft fingers slide between your legs now, pressing against your mound. He’s tentative, sensual, wet lips running over your neck and up to your ear.
“Will you let me have you, amore?” he whispers. “You know your Papa wanted you all night.”
You wake up your voice with a soft hum. “Yes, Papa.”
“You’re so good for me, always so good.”
More kisses, this time to the shell of your ear, your earlobe, your cheek. You smell his minty toothpaste and turn your head for a proper kiss. His free hand moves to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing into your neck to adjust the angle. The kiss is languid just like his fingers working on your clit now. A soft whine escapes you and his tongue sweeps inside to meet yours in a gentle greeting. Your mind gets hazy with his taste, the soft ripples of pleasure in your core, his now hard cock pressing into your back. You want him, need him, and so you wriggle, pushing your ass into his groin. He accommodates you by sliding two fingers into your wet entrance, increasing the pressure.
“Secondo, please,” you whimper.
“Ah.” He stops altogether, pulling back to look at you with intense mismatched eyes. “Being tired is no excuse for misbehaving.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. Please.”
“Mhm.” His movements resume. “Brava ragazza. So tired and still you beg for your Papa’s cock.”
Your head falls back into the pillows as Secondo shifts, removing his hands to adjust your hips, slotting them together. His cock slips between your legs then and you moan softly when you feel it slide right against your folds. He slowly pushes in, using his free hand on your belly to keep you pressed tightly to his chest, the other one lifting your leg up just enough so he can move inside of you. The stretch is beautifully slow, his mouth back on your ear now, and you reach over to scratch the back of his neck.
He hums at your loving caress, a low rumble that gives you butterflies, and then he pulls back, pushing back in deeper. You close your eyes and revel in the gentle rhythm he sets. For a while, all you hear are your soft gasps, his low moans right by your ear and the sound of his skin meeting yours. Your orgasm builds slowly but you can both feel it approaching, Secondo spreading out his fingers on your abdomen until he can reach your clit again. He speeds up just slightly, squelching noises filling your ears whenever his cock slides in to hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. His own breaths are ragged now but he’s holding back until he gets you there first, always.
“Come for your Papa,” he whispers against your ear with surprising softness. “Be good for me and come on Papa’s cock.”
You do, clenching around him as his words send you over the edge with a voiceless cry. He joins you, growling, hips stuttering into yours a few more times as he draws out both of your highs. Your exhausted body goes limp, only shuddering again when he eventually pulls out.
A soft exhale as he wraps you up in his arms, his sweaty chest warm against your back. You vaguely feel his thumb caressing your arm, the gentle pattern lulling you to sleep. Neither of you is going to move again before the sun rises and the birdsong inevitably wakes you.
“Sleep well, amore,” Secondo whispers, kissing the purple bruise on your neck one more time.
You sigh deeply, weaving your fingers through his, and slowly drift off.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Terzo
content: cunnilingus, v fingering, mentions of mental health issues
A tickle at your neck. You stir and scrunch up your face, shifting onto your side to get away. It’s adorable, Terzo thinks, so he does it again, a featherlight kiss just below your ear. You twitch slightly once more, the duvet slipping from your shoulder and revealing your bare upper body to him. Half-hovering above you, it’s easy to press yet another kiss to your neck and watch your irritated pout, eyebrows pulled tightly together. Your hand flexes then, and he’s almost sure you’re going to swat him away like a fly but your fingers uncurl after a second, smoothing out on the mattress.
Waking up with you in his bed makes him unnecessarily giddy, weightless in a way he hasn’t felt in years. And after looking at your peaceful form for a moment longer he decides that he needs your attention more than you need your sleep. So the next kiss is harder. He finds an almost faded hickey right below your jaw, licking over the skin he traps between his lips and sucking with more fervour.
You give a soft groan that vibrates against his mouth. “Terzo, ’m still sleeping.”
He breaks away with a loud smacking sound, then boops your shoulder with his nose. “No, you’re not.”
“But I’m still tired,” you whine, burying your face deeper into the pillow.
“Aww,” he cooes. “Too tired for your Papa?”
You hum sleepily, your brain not yet fully awake. Terzo won’t let you off the hook. He wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you into his warm body. Looking down with your blurry gaze, you notice a tendon in his arm twitching as he slots his pelvis against yours. You can feel him rock hard against your ass now, poking into the supple flesh of your butt cheek. So this is why he woke you up early on a Sunday morning and not to get you croissants and coffee.
“I am shocked,” he says. “Offended. Mortally wounded.”
“Mhm, Terzo…”
“You know, you’ve been wriggling against me in your sleep,” he interrupts your complaint. “I bet I’d find you already wet for me, dolce. Tell me, did you dream about your Papa?”
Shifting your legs, you realise that he’s right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d really been dreaming about him just before he woke you. For the past month, he’s been occupying your every thought, every fading dream, every waking moment. What you thought would be a one time thing turned into a two and three and many more times thing, late night McDonald’s runs, hour-long phone conversations when he can’t sleep after his anxiety attacks, countless lunch dates just to have one extra daily hour in each other’s company… and now actually sleeping together, staying the night. This is uncharted territory but as your mind slowly regains its grasp on reality, you’re more than ready to explore what it means.
“I must have,” you admit. “I often do.”
“Oh, really?” His lips trail from your shoulder back to your neck, his voice a low whisper against your ear. “Well, I dream about you too, my little dormiglione, every night.”
You feel your circulation coming to live, heat rushing into your cheeks and between your legs. “Really?”
“Mhm. Do you want to know what my favorite dream is?”
You fight the urge to rub your crusty eyes. “Yes.”
His grasp on you loosens and he turns you onto your back, gently cradling your face. You don’t feel self-conscious about your sleepy, unkempt state for more than a second because there is nothing but pure affection in his mismatched gaze.
“I will show you, amore,” he promises. “A little demonstration is just what we need to wake you up, sì?”
His words register only after he’s kissing down your neck. With an insistent mouth, he latches onto your breast, sighing when he feels the soft flesh against his face. You bury your fingers in his raven hair, gently scratching his scalp, and he moans lowly against your skin. The vibration has you arching into his touch and his eyes snap up at you. They never leave yours as he scoots further down the bed, leaving a wet trail of kisses all over your belly.
Terzo settles between your legs, spreading them just enough to nuzzle one of your inner thighs. Unshaved, his cheeks feel scratchy against your skin and he rubs them against you a few more times with an almost boyish smile. He’s beautiful, even more so in his unkempt state, stubbly jaw, messy hair, eyes still a little puffy. For once he is not tense, not on guard, and you can’t help but reach out and brush a stray piece of hair out of his face. You look at each other in shared vulnerability and for a moment, he leans into your touch, a tender, loving expression softening his features. But then his eyes glint with mischief as he grins and stuffs his face right into your pussy.
You keen, arching your back. His nose is pressed against your clit, tongue pushing into your entrance, and your hips buck involuntarily. You can’t help but moan – loudly, desperately – and he pulls away with a chuckle.
“Ahhh, there you are. Good morning, sunshine. Not so tired anymore now, eh?” All you can do is whimper at the loss of his touch and his lips curl into a satisfied grin. “Per favore, will you let your Papa have his breakfast now? You know I have a sweet tooth.”
You nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip in anticipation. His face is glistening with your arousal and his eyes narrow just slightly.
“Words, dolce.”
“Yes,” you croak, throat still scratchy. “Please, Papa.”
He chuckles again, moving his hands up your thighs to open them wider before he brings one to your abdomen, the other slowly spreading your folds for him. “So wet, dolce. Your dreams must be even more exciting than mine.”
Words have long since escaped you. Just watching him so readily offer you pleasure is enough to make you light-headed. He licks a broad stripe up from your entrance to your clit where he stays, sucking gingerly at first before he hungrily starts to devour you.
Your eyes flutter close again but not from sleepiness this time.
“Eyes on me,” he demands immediately. “We don’t want you falling back asleep, yes?”
There is no danger of that, your body is burning, muscles clenching with the little energy you have, but you still follow his order. His eyes are on yours as he breaks away, creating space to push one and then two fingers into your waiting hole. You tighten around him with a moan, your whole lower body pulsating with need. A wicked grin and he rubs his fingers against your inner wall, looking for the spot that makes your toes curls. By now, he’s practiced, so in tune with your body that the firm, constant pressure brings you close very fast. When he sees your shudder, his mouth is back on your clit, sucking, licking, humming until you clench around his digits, hips bucking into his face as you ride out your climax.
You only notice how tightly you’ve been gripping the sheets when Terzo crawls back up to you, gently taking your hand in his. He kisses each of your aching knuckles before he uses your hand as an extension to his, cleaning up his messy face and sucking your fingers into his mouth with such tender care that it makes you smile, your heart almost bursting with love for him.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.
“Terzo, I haven’t brushed my–”
His mouth collides with yours, tongue dipping into your mouth hungrily. You taste yourself on him but there is barely any time to take it in, your brain still hazy and clouded from your high. When he breaks away, he gives you a pointed look. “Do I look like I care?”
You softly shake your head and wrap your arms around his back, keeping him close. Fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, your breathing slowly evens.
“I love waking up with you,” you mumble with a smile. “Not just because of this. If you let me, I want you to be the first thing I see every day for the rest of my life.”
“If I let you?” His eyes soften and he gives an almost pained smile, struggling to accept the truth behind your words. But then he huffs out an exhale, pushing his hip back against you. “Amore, do you honestly think I will ever allow you to leave this bed again?”
With his painfully hard and leaking cock pressed against your thigh, the answer to his question is quite clear. You mentally say goodbye to breakfast. There are far more inviting things to sustain you than food.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Copia
content: soft!dom copia just bc I can, praise kink, thigh riding, v fingering, gloves
A murmur right by your ear. “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” A short pause. “Chianti.”
You’re about to fall asleep on Copia’s tiny bed, dim candlelight and his warmth surrounding you. The Silence of the Lambs is running in the background on a grainy VHS tape, Copia mumbling most of the dialogue to himself, practically lulling you to sleep. You’re half on top of him, legs intertwined, a mess of tangled red limbs in matching sweatpants. He knows you aren’t paying any attention to the movie with the way your nose evenly exhales against his windpipe, but after the long day you had that’s no surprise.
His arms automatically close around you, squeezing your tired body closer to his. The shift pushes his knee further between your legs and you feel a slight pressure against your clit. Copia continues to mumble but your focus shifts to the burning sensation in your core. His thigh is firm against your pussy and you tentatively move your hips a little. It’s innocent enough at first, a wriggle to get more comfortable. Copia presses a kiss to your hair, a searching hand finding your waist for a comforting squeeze.
It only serves to make you more restless. You roll your hips, desperate for more friction. He catches on by the third time you do it, the hand on your side sliding down, fingers spreading over your hip as he pulls you in closer. You continue to grind on his thigh, slow but steady, soft moans tumbling from your lips. After a few seconds he starts to massage you through the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling you forward so you slide over his leg even harder. You keen and grab at his t-shirt right above his chest, scrunching up the fabric. The pressure feels too good, shivers running down your spine and into your core.
“So needy,” Copia whispers on his next exhale, tickling the skin just below your ear. “Your Papa loves it when you use him to get off, tesoro. When you make a mess all over his thigh.”
You whimper again, louder, higher, too exhausted to move as fast as you’d need to find some actual relief. His hand slides under the elastic of your pants, warm black leather against soft, delicate skin, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.
“Do you want me to help you, topolina?” he asks, voice low and deep.
“Mhm.”
“You have to ask, my baby,” he reminds you. “I want to hear it.”
“Please, Papa, help me.”
“Tell me what you need from me.”
“I n-need your fingers, Papa. Please.”
Soft lips brush your temple. “Hm, so good for me. But you sound tired, amore, are you sure you can take it?”
Your voice comes out in a strangled whine. “Yes, Papa. Please.”
He stops your movements, and you wail in disappointment as he pulls his leg away from you, a dark red patch staining the red cotton. But his hands quickly find your hip again, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Don’t worry, amore,” he says, pushing the hem down to your knees. “Your Papa is going to take care of you.”
His fingertips dance up your thigh and move straight between your legs, probing at your entrance. Rubbing along your folds, he spreads out your arousal all over the black leather. Copia hums when he feels how ready you are for him, pushing two fingers inside of you with ease. You moan at the stretch, clenching around his digits as he curls them inside of you.
“Hm, you like that, amore?”
You hum, pressing your hot forehead against his neck. He slowly starts to move, an almost languid pace but his thrusts are deliberate, hitting you right every time. Rippling waves of pleasure run all over your body and leave a trail of goosebumps. You’re getting close, shifting, wriggling. The wet noises of his hand moving against you drown out the sounds of the movie. With your last remaining effort, you move your hips, joining his rhythm.
Copia hums in approval. “Hmm, yes, use my hand, make yourself come, topolina.”
You cry out as you clench tightly around his fingers, the sound muffled by his sweaty skin against your lips. He can feel you shuddering against him, and you slowly turn into a panting, whimpering mess in his arms. With a few last curls of his fingers, he carries you through your orgasm, smiling at every little tremor he can coax out of you.
“Hmmm, so good for your Papa.” More wet kisses to your face. “You did so well, amore.”
You come to, smiling softly at his praise as the room around you becomes clearer. You notice the lights of the tv flickering off the walls. Buffalo Bill probably just murdered someone, but Copia must have turned down the sound because all you can hear is his slightly increased heartbeat when you settle on his chest. He pulls up your sweatpants and continues to hold you against him, kissing your hair so softly you can barely even feel it. Your body starts to feel heavier, drowsiness taking over now that you’re sated. You close your eyes and let the lingering feeling of bliss carry you into a peaceful slumber.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
if anyone skipped over primo I am going to find you and haunt you forever.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Any sort of interaction or feedback is as always much appreciated ♡
Masterlist – My Ao3
#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus i x reader#primo#papa emeritus i fanfiction#primo x reader#primo fanfiction#secondo fanfiction#secondo#secondo x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#terzo#terzo x reader#terzo fanfiction#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus iii fanfiction#copia#copia x reader#copia fanfiction#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iv x reader#papa emeritus iv fanfiction#primo smut#secondo smut#terzo smut#copia smut
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No Lies
─ Papa Emeritus II Secondo x F! Reader ─
rating: 18+ Explicit | MDNI
word count: 2.4k
summary: You're too shy to tell Papa about your recent guilty pleasure. He has a plan to make you see there's nothing to be ashamed of.
warnings/tags: feminine reader, vaginal fingering, nudity, sexual penetration, rough sex, spanking, submission, slight choking, praise kink, erotic literature.
a/n: Just an idea that was rattling around in my head. Passages from the book mentioned are not mine. They are from The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice.
ao3 link
tag list: @ghu-leh
You finally had a day off.
It had been a mentally taxing week of helping Sister Imperator with clergy paperwork, so you wanted to enjoy your spare time as much as possible. Starting your morning off with a good book in a peaceful setting was perfect.
As you walk towards the entrance of Primo's gardens, Secondo's familiar voice stops you.
"What a delight to see you rise so early, sorella."
"Papa!" You turn and greet him with a warm smile.
His mismatched eyes peer into yours, traveling from the top of your veil to your toes. He was wearing his usual skull makeup coupled with a casual long-sleeve shirt and pristine black trousers.
A strong friendship blossomed between the two of you when you joined the abbey a year ago. Feeling alienated, he made you feel comfortable and welcomed in the strange, new place. Sharing a genuine love of literature, he began to show you around the Ministry's old library and even read with you during his breaks. Being Papa and leader of the flock, he was extremely busy, and as you got accustomed to the rules of the Unholy church, you noticed he was particularly selective of whom he spent time with. Most siblings kept their distance out of fear or respect, but the more you talked, the more drawn to him you became, seeing past his grim exterior. As a result, he became almost like an older brother, except for the arousing effect he had on you. Lascivious fantasies had invaded your mind on numerous occasions, but keeping them hidden away in the safety of your room at night was better than disgracing yourself in front of Papa. How could you? After he'd shown you so much kindness? You had a hunch that he knew, how could he not? But it was customary for him to make the first move if he so desired, and since he hadn't, your lust-filled dreams had to stay, well, exactly that … just dreams.
"What are you doing so early, bella?" He asks, his body close enough that you can smell the wonderful scent of his cologne.
"Oh, um, I was just heading over to the garden to read." You answer, gesturing in the direction of the intricate, decorated archway.
"The garden, hm, and reading what?" He pries, his eyes catching a glimpse of the book tucked in the crook of your arm.
You hesitate and stay silent for a moment, unsure if you should reveal the intimate details of your recent literary indulgence. It wasn't that you couldn't tell him, you knew he wouldn't judge you. But that fearful, self-conscious voice in the back of your mind kept you silent.
"Why so shy, sorella?"
You wish your eyes didn't give you away so easily. If you had known he would be asking about it, you would have picked a different genre. Erotica out of all things? You want to smack yourself silly.
"It's a mystery novel, Papa." You lie, instantly regretting it.
He notices your blatant deception. Secondo always notices.
A sly grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as his piercing gaze intensifies, making you squirm under its scrutiny. You knew that look. The one he gave you when he wanted to teach you a lesson or reprimand you somehow. He was planning something.
"I see. Bring the book to my quarters when you're done today, sorella. I've been looking for something new to read."
"Yes, Papa." You whisper silently as he turns and walks away.
Fuck.
—
You weren't keeping track, but you guessed it probably took you almost ten minutes to read one unholy paragraph. You could hardly concentrate, thinking of the awkward conversation that awaited you. Yes, Papa, I love getting wet from reading these stories. I love picturing you doing all sorts of filthy things to me. Oh yes, can you drag me around like a slave and punish me like a little slut? Your mortification would reach the stratosphere. You might as well never show your face around the abbey again.
Rather than put yourself through the torture of waiting, you decide to make your way over to his chambers and get it over with.
—
It felt like you flew to his room. You couldn't explain how you got there so quickly, as if some unseen force propelled you forward with a supernatural speed. The thumping of your heartbeat crushes against your chest as you enter his room.
"Sit. Make yourself comfortable, ____. I'll return shortly."
You do as you're told, sitting in one of the plush leather chairs next to his bed. The room looked somewhat familiar. You had only been to his suite once before. Months ago, Sister Imperator had required some assistance with a few antique paintings he was restoring, and she had quickly gathered them from his room with your help.
You remember the gorgeously adorned four-poster bed. You stand and run a finger along its thick mahogany frame. A thrill snakes up your spine as you imagine yourself pinned underneath him while he fucks you senseless.
You notice the glass windows that look out onto Primo's gardens, and you get lost in the marvelous view for a few minutes.
"Admiring the flowers, bella?" He asks behind you. "Once I became Papa, I had my choice of suites. This one was perfetto (perfect)."
Before you could say "I totally would've chosen this one too" he speaks.
"Did you bring the book?"
"Yes." You smile sheepishly and hand it over.
He looks at the cover and flips through the pages, inspecting it for what feels like hours in your anxious state. The tension in the air makes your stomach do somersaults.
To fill the silence, you decide to apologize for earlier. "Papa, um, I'm sorry for–"
"This is far more stimulating than a simple mystery novel, sorella," he interrupts with amusement, "I like it."
A tinge of relief. Not as dreadful as you imagined.
"Now, come. Read me some of your favorite parts." He requests, beckoning you to sit on his lap.
What?! Satanas, please drag me to hell.
"Papa, I-I don't remember--" you stammer out weakly.
"Don't lie to me again, bella," he warns. "That's beneath you. Now come on." He taps his thigh.
Nervously, you walk over and sit, rigidly, on his lap. It makes your insides melt to be so close like this. You had pictured being on his lap many times before – bent over, with your rear on display and fingers exploring your most sensitive parts.
"You're stiff as a board, cara mia. Relax. Just like the other books we've read together, si?"
"So-sorry, Papa. I know. It's just-I'm nervous. This book is diff--"
"I'm aware. Open it and start reading." From his tone of voice, you know it isn't a suggestion, more so a command.
You pick up the book, wishing you wouldn't have dog-eared your preferred pages, but you also feel your pent-up desire unraveling. You love his curiosity for your guilty pleasure. Was reading it aloud the lesson? To make you realize there is no reason to feel embarrassed? No need to hide?
Clearing your throat, you begin.
"But she wanted him so badly. And when she saw him rise up over her, she felt not the hot throbbing pain in her body," you pause briefly, already feeling a hot red warmth upon your cheeks, "but a flood of juices between her legs and a new moan coming out of her as she opened herself to him."
“Bene. Continue."
You breathe in, pressing your lips together, trying your hardest to calm your rising pulse. "He knelt over her, removing his--"
You stop again, fidgeting just the slightest bit on his leg.
"Continue, sorella. Per favore (Please)."
"— his erect cock from his breeches, and then he brought her up on her knees and impaled her upon it."
Then you feel it- his hardness poking your ass through the fabric of your habit. The sensation awakens your desire even further, the tension inside your core slowly building.
"— She cried out. Her head fell back. It was a great hard thing inside her sore and quivering orifice. But she felt it bathed with her juices, and as the Prince forced it in deeper and brought her down upon it, it seemed a spit that rubbed against some mysterious core in her–”
His leather-clad fingers toy with the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Was he just teasing you? You shift your hips, pressing your ass firmly on his growing bulge, and resume your reading.
"-- sending ecstasy washing through her so she was giving great guttural moans in spite of herself. The Prince's thrusts--"
A nibble on your neck makes you gasp in surprise, sending a chill through your body. His hand lifts your habit and you feel it slither inside your slick-covered panties, slightly pushing them down. So quickly your body melts against his, and you spread your legs wider for him. His warm breath tickles your ear as he gently slides a finger inside your aching sex.
"Papa…" you close your eyes and moan softly, pushing back against his chest, enjoying the feel of the leather inside you. The book is quickly forgotten as you lower your arm.
"So wet for me already, principessa." He coos in your ear, his voice thick with lust as his finger starts pushing into you with perfect pressure. "Continua. No shame, si?"
You lift the book back up, the written letters become increasingly blurred as your mind tries to focus on the fire igniting down below. But you obey, wanting to please him desperately.
"The Prince's thrusts came faster and faster and then he too gave a soft cry and held her close to him…her breasts aching and pressed to his chest…his lips on the back of her neck, his body…softening slowly."
You give him soft, little whimpers as his fingers delve into you hungrily, your desire flooding your senses so beautifully. "Mia principessa atormentatta (My tormented princess)." You are so good for your Papa. So eager to please." He praises you, and your hand finally lets the book drop to the floor.
Two fingers slide in and out of you easily, lulling you into a pleasure-filled dream. His breath gets more ragged, and with a quick movement, he lifts your hips and flips you around to hover your pussy over his cock, teasing your entrance.
"Do you think of me when you read these books, sorellina?" He asks urgently, as if he had been wishing for this even more than you. The tip of his cock glides up and down your folds so delicately, his strong fingers keeping your hips in place.
"Ye-yes, yes, Papa!" You answer, looking down at his erection, thick and standing at attention. Just for you.
"Look at your Papa when he talks to you, bella." His heated gaze calls to you, his pupils dark with longing.
"Do you orgasm while you read these books? Dimmi (Tell me)." His questioning has your mind reeling, the little movements with the head of his cock driving you mad with lust.
"Yes, Papa…I-I need you, please--"
"How long have you longed for this, cara mía? How long have you been pleasuring yourself without me?!" Was he mad? No. Disappointed. You knew.
"For so long… months, Papa. Please, I--" You whine, your eager hole desperate to be filled by him.
"Are you going to lie to me again?!" A gentle threat.
"No, Papa! Please!"
"Please what, bella?"
"Please-please fuck me!!"
"Brava ragazza (Good girl) ."
You feel your lungs cry for oxygen as he slams himself into you. A loud moan leaves your lips, and you hold on tightly to his shoulders.
He hums, savoring the feeling of your wetness wrapped around his hardened length. His fingers dig into your hips with immovable force, and a surge of heat radiates through your whole body.
"Cazzo (Fuck)!! You feel so fucking good on my cock. Prendilo tutto (Take it all)." He purrs against your ear, kneading at the flesh on your back, pushing into you mercilessly.
His thrusts grow more intense, and he lands a sharp slap against your bare ass, making you tighten around his cock. You yelp, feeling like some sort of rag doll being taken over and over, your body defiled only for his pleasure.
"Do you like your Papa's cock inside you, mía puttanella (my little slut)?" He asks, the heaviness of his voice and filthy words making you grind on him even faster. It's intoxicating.
"Yes!! Fuck ye-yes, Papa!"
"You kept your delicious little cunt away from me bella, why, oh cazzo (fuck), volgio adorarti! (I want to ravish you!)" He snarls, kissing and biting your neck passionately. Another slap lands on your ass, the sting even more intense. The mix of pain and pleasure is all-consuming, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
"M-More, please, Papa!!" You plead, wanting more friction, the feel of his cock overwhelming your mind like a drug. He pulls out slowly and then slams his entire length back inside you so quickly that you lose balance and fall forward, taking him deeper into you. His hands are quick to grab your arms, pinning them behind your back and holding you up. He controls your body, grabbing your throat, and thrusting into you fiercely. "My perfect little whore." His mouth is on yours, savagely kissing you as you moan obscenely into him, tears falling down your rosy cheeks.
You feel you're about to explode from every sound, movement, and sensation. Your walls tighten around his swollen cock, your heart thrashes violently, a symphonic fury inside your ribcage.
"Papa! I'm-I'm going to cum-!" You cry out, your breath coming in short gasps.
"Yes, bella," he roars, "come all over my fucking cock. I'm going to fill your tight little hole." You feel him spurt his cum deeply into you, the feeling of his hot seed sending you over the edge. The sound of his orgasm fills your ears as you clench around him, every nerve in your core pulsing with ecstasy. You fall apart on his cock, trembling wildly over him, keen moans erupting from your lips. A thousand times better than anything you could've imagined.
Gasping for breath, you collapse against his chest. You feel his body relax with the slowing of his heartbeat.
After a while, you hear him hum contentedly. "Ti amo, principessa (I love you, princess). Bene miso (My happiness)." You lay on his shoulder, basking in the truth of his confession and feeling like you might just faint.
"What should we read next, piccolina (little one)?" He asks tenderly, lifting your face and pushing loose strands away from your eyes.
"Biochemistry?" You reply with a weary smile and tired eyes.
"Fucking boring." He says with a smirk, pulling your exhausted body against him and kissing your forehead as you both burst into laughter.
♡
✦ 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 and want to support me, please consider leaving comments, kudos, or reblogging my posts. :) ✦
#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost the band#papa secondo#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii x female reader#papa secondo fanfiction#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#ghost band#ghost band fanfic#ghost fanfic#ghost band fic#papa emeritus 2#secondo fanfiction#secondo x reader#ghost band smut#ghost bc#secondo emeritus#secondo smut#papa emeritus x reader smut#papa emeritus ii smut#papa emeritus secondo#my fics#my writings
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Another Round
Secondo x Female Reader
Just some all night worship with your Papa…
Warnings: messy sex, overstimulation, p in v sex, brief blood mention, nsfw 18+ only mdni, dividers by @gothdaddyissues
You weren’t sure how much more you could take.
Dawn was still hours away and until those first rays of light hit the stained glass windows of the chapel you couldn’t move. All you could do was take, take everything your Papa would give you. Endless amounts of pleasure and praise as you laid on your back upon the altar. As you accepted the worship Secondo was giving you while you squirmed on his cock.
The worship you deserved.
His thumb brushed against your engorged clit and you bit down on your lip so hard you drew blood. When he saw it he grinned, pumping his hips even faster. He ran his hand up your stomach, spreading the cum and sweat around. Secondo didn’t stop until he could hook two fingers into your mouth and you moaned when you tasted yourself on them. He chuckled darkly as your tongue lapped against his skin, moaning himself when you started sucking his fingertips.
“This is what you always want isn’t it dolcezza? To be filled by your Papa?”
With his fingers in your mouth you could only nod. He gave you a smug grin before pulling them out, trailing them back down your body to tease at your clit again. You were teetering on the edge of another orgasm and judging by how frantic his thrusts were getting so was Secondo. He started to speak in Latin, words that you could barely understand but they still made your skin tingle.
When his cock began to twitch and kick inside of you Secondo fell forward with a groan, catching himself on his elbows at the last moment. He ground his hips against yours as he filled you again, hot ropes of cum painting your insides. You followed soon after, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close. The rest of his prayers were pressed into your skin by his lips, each ‘Nema’ followed with a kiss.
You traced a finger along his sweaty brow, smudging his paint even more. When his eyes met yours he smiled again, the soft one that only you got. With a grunt he straightened up, making sure his cock stayed pressed into your cunt. You couldn’t help but wiggle your hips, laughing when he hissed at the over stimulation.
“Ready for another round, Papa?”
“With you?” He looked your body up and down, love and appreciation in his eyes as he took you in. “Always.”
My Masterlist ~ My Archive of Our Own ~ My Tip Jar
#my fics#my writing#Secondo x female reader#papa emeritus ii x female reader#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfiction#secondo fanfiction#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#secondo#the band ghost fanfic
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I didn’t see if your request are open or not, and if they aren’t I am sorry.
But if they are..
Chubby Fem reader x Secondo?
Blessed Be 🧿 🪬
Secondo x plus size f! reader. Body insecurity, comfort, fluff, many Secondo kissies.
Secondo sits upon a plush couch, his legs crossed. He adjusts his cuff and lays a hand upon his knee, dark sunglasses shield his eyes even while inside the boutique, and his expression remains stoic as always. Salespeople hover around nervously, unsure whether to offer him anything, or remain silent as he waits for the woman he came in with to come out of the changing room.
It's so quiet, one could almost imagine crickets, and Secondo strains to make out even the softest shuffle from within the room you were currently confined. A worker to his right glances from him to the closed changing room door several times, her feet bouncing in place before she takes a step forward. Secondo holds up his hand, silently, and the woman stops, her face pale.
He gets up, gloved fingers adjusting his waistcoat, and he steps toward the door, knuckles rapping against the wood. "Amore," his voice is quiet, a gentle rasp. "My eyes are bereft of you. Will you not come out?"
There's a beat of silence, and then the door opens with a creak, your face peering out, brow furrowed. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment. "Nothing is working...," you murmur.
"What is not working, my dove?"
"Everything," your voice is exasperated, pained as you hide your form behind the half open door. "This isn't the store for me."
Secondo arches a brow, his sunglasses subtly lifting. "Ah, then we shall go elsewhere, sì? Do not feel as if you must pretend to like the selection for my benefit."
"The selection is fine. These just aren't clothes for someone like me..."
"I am not understanding." Secondo attempts to push the door wider and you stop it. The quickness with which you attempt to shield yourself from him, the widening of your eyes, the shame in them, they stop Secondo cold.
"No," he says. It is not in protest to you, and it is inflected with devastation, worry, love. He pushes through the door, and you make a noise as you're crowded into the small space, the door firmly closing behind him.
Secondo takes off his sunglasses, his eyes moving over your form. You're wearing a dress, a lovely shade of green, and it is form fitting. The skin under your arms spill over the cut of the sleeve, breasts filling all available space, and every roll and bump is accentuated, your belly stretching the material. He can see the outline of your belly button. And then his eyes return to your face, and you look so sad. But the way your shoulders are curved inward, and you try so hard to not look at him, he can see you're steeling yourself. Waiting for an unkind word. Waiting to be told that you are too fat, too ugly. And his heart is in agony.
"Amore. Amore mio," he coos, stepping closer. "Look at your Papa." His hand cradles your jaw, turning you so carefully to face him, and it takes a moment, but your rapidly wettening eyes meet his. "Ah, sì. There she is. My most beautiful one." His fingers brush along your skin.
You open your mouth to protest, to pull away, but he only holds firmer, his other hand falling to your waist. "No, my dove. This is when we talk. We promised to be honest with each other, you remember, hmm? When I was so stubborn, too much of a cold man. But you have kept me warm by the fires of your heart, no?" His thumb wipes away a stray tear from your cheek. "Let me be your hearth."
"I should be doing more," you say, voice hushed and thick with tears. "I should look my best for you. You take me to these nice places, and I don't want to disappoint you."
"Amore. I have never wanted you to be more than yourself. I take you to nice places because I want to spoil you, but you must tell me when you feel uncomfortable." His hand drops from your face to join his other at your waist, slowly exploring your curves, curling underneath your belly, squeezing at the plushness of your bottom, gliding over the thickness of your thighs. "There is more than one definition of healthy. What I am concerned about, is that you feel confident, not only in what you are wearing, but what you are eating. I want you to have that extra treat than deny yourself because you think it fits some outdated notion that I have no interest in. And if you want to explore different habits, I am with you. Your journey is mine, no matter what form it takes."
You let out a breath, eyes straying to the ceiling as you try and reign in your emotion. But it's so hard not to cry, so hard to just...let it all go even though you want to fall into the sweetness of his words. The gentle reverence of his touch. "I just...want you to be proud of who is on your arm."
Secondo steps forward, leg between your thighs in order to press you against the wall. You squeak in surprise, and he smiles, tilting his head to ghost his lips over yours, his breath hot against your skin. "I am proud. So proud, amore mio. This Papa does not deserve the blessing of your presence. The deliciously sinful sensation of your body pressed against his own." His fingers unzip the dress, closing the distance with a quick kiss when you sigh in relief as he pulls the tight material from your body. "I wish to drown in the beauty of you. Lose myself within the softness of your skin. You see, amore? Can you not see? I am undeserving."
His lips press featherlight to your neck, and then he bites, revelling in the way you arch against him. "You are so beautiful. Oh, my dove. Sì, sì, così perfetto per me..." The dress falls from you, pooling onto the floor, and he wraps his arms fully around you, hands flat against your back as he presses you against him with a desperate fervor, bodies melting against each other when he finally takes your lips in a passionate, deep kiss. Secondo licks into your mouth, swallowing any sound you make. His hand presses against your stomach, and he grabs at your flesh, kneading and caressing, worshipping you with hands that have overseen powerful rituals in Lucifer's name.
To Secondo, this is the most potent magic of all.
Secondo pulls away very slowly to brush his nose against yours, peppering tiny kisses to your cheeks. You take a shaky breath, fingers clinging to his jacket. "I love you," you tell him, lips pink and puffy and so perfect, he has to take another taste.
"And I love you. All of you. You are mine, hmm? You understand your Papa?" He looks deeply into your eyes, pinning you with a stare, that one that reminds you that Papa Emeritus II is just under the surface. It thrills you.
"I understand," you confirm, a smile finally crossing your features, one that he mirrors as his thumb once more strokes over your cheek.
"Good girl," he whispers.
Secondo picks up the dress and tosses it to the side, giving you space to change back into your clothes. He takes the edge of your shirt and helps you bring it down, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he continues to rain kisses upon every inch of your face he can reach from this position. It makes you giggle, so he does it more.
When the two of you leave the changing room, the workers are at the front, and thankfully say nothing as Secondo makes no effort to return his sunglasses to his face, that white eye rooting them to the spot as he guides you from the store. Will it be much of a surprise Monday morning when the manager receives an email from corporate about including plus sizes?
Secondo spends the entire ride home touching you in some manner, kissing you, lavishing you in the attention you rightfully deserve. Because your body is his temple, and he plans to worship it for the rest of his life.
You are more than worthy. You are perfect. You are his home.
#the band ghost#papa emeritus ii#secondo emeritus#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#secondo fanfiction#soft secondo#plus size bodies#body postivity#body insecurity#secondo kissies!!!!!#the band ghost fanfiction
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It’s Papa Secondo’s birthday, and after spending the hole day working, he just wants to relax. But how can he when his favourite Sister of Sin is being a bad girl in front of everyone?
Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x Reader
Coming 27th April!
Commissions are open. ⛧ Memberships get early access.
Reply to this post to be added to the taglist! Open until 26th April.
Please make sure that you are 18+ and have your age in your bio (or something vague)! This is an 18+ only fic!
#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band#ghost the band#ghost fanfiction#ghost fanfic#ghost fan fiction#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost fandom#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus ii smut#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader smut#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#papa secondo#papa secondo smut#papa secondo x reader#papa secondo x reader smut#papa secondo fanfiction#secondo emeritus#papa ii#secondo#secondo smut#secondo x reader#secondo x reader smut#commission#kofi#inkstainedrat
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Let's revisit: The King
The second story in the Suck Club series centers around Vampire Secondo's new accountant. It doesn't take long for things to become wildly complicated.
Summary: You thought accounting would lead to a boring life. Then you started working for Mr. Emeritus.
Tags: Vampire!Secondo x F!Reader - NSFW, 18+ MDNI, Blood, Horror, Vampire Violence, Injury, Smut, Minor Character Death. 34,000 words.
AO3 // Part One // Part Two // Part Three
more stuff by me // ko-fi tip jar
#suck club forever#secondo x reader#secondo fanfiction#vampire secondo#dracondo#vampire secondo x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#secondo smut#papa emeritus ii smut#the band ghost fanfiction#the band ghost fic#ghost band fanfic#my fics#my writing#x reader#reader insert
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New Face Paint
Secondo x Reader || Halloween Ficlet
no beta we die like men, SFW :) I chose a new theme for my Fall Festival with the Papas collection and just thought this was too nice to rot in my WIP folder
A trail of crimson trickled from a razor edged canine perched atop an even row of teeth, fixed together in a menacing snarl. One piercingly white eye stared back at you in the dull light with a gaze that intended to bore its way into your own soul, at least until the beast rolled its eyes in irritation that is.
“Is this really necessary?”
“The silence is not scary anymore! You need to practice!” An exasperated sigh heaves its way from your chest. Weeks had already been spent begging Secondo to consider playing a more active role in the haunted house; to trade in his traditional silent scare tactics in favor of a more active approach. There was no time for him to chicken out now.
“Need I remind you, most of the Siblings already find me quite terrifying. I could stand stock still, staring, and they would turn tail and run. Which is what I do best.” His objections were quickly dismissed with a wave of your hand followed by a gentle push on his shoulders to lead him back to sitting in front of the mirrored vanity so you could adjust his make up once more.
“You are not terrifying, amore mío. But you do stare. A lot.” You reminded him with a playful squeeze of the apple of his cheek which only earned a groan underneath his breath. Your lips pursed together as you stared down at him in search of what aspect was still amiss from his costume make up. Already you had been pretty proud of what you had applied to his face. Larger faux canines affixed to his own, dribbling over his chin with fake blood, along with a stitching affect crossing over his face, opening over the top left side of his skull to expose spiraling sections of brain matter you had painted on painstakingly over the course of two hours.
“You are simply easy to stare at.” The purred flirtation combined with Secondo’s arms creeping around to encircle your torso was nearly enough to distract you from the task at hand. Credit where credit is due, the man was relentless and had almost gotten his way. Almost.
#the band ghost fanfiction#soft secondo#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#papa emeritus ii x reader#secondo emeritus#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus secondo#secondo x reader#secondo emeritus x reader
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Hi there ! Can I request a fluff "Scary Movie Night" with Secondo? Thank you ! <3
ofc luv!💚 I love me some old man fluff
Fandom : Ghost BC/The Band Ghost
Word Count:
Type: Fluff💚
Prompt A - Secondo Emeritus/Papa Emeritus II
Scary Movie Night with Secondo💚
Secondo was someone who would never admit that he enjoyed you coming to him for protection or comfort, but it gave him a small boost of reassurance that you needed him, which he enjoyed.
So naturally when you asked him to cuddle up and watch horror movies, how could he say no?
“What would you like to watch first, Tesoro?” He asked, flipping through the horror genre on the TV.
“I kinda wanna start with a classic slasher film, maybe Scream or Halloween?” you said, sitting down next to him with the snacks and drinks you had bought earlier.
“Ah, Which one are you more partial to, Dolcezza?” He asked, turning to you as you handed him a drink, which he took with a small “thank you.” You thought about it for a minute, sure, Halloween was more classic, but Scream has Drew Berrymore!
“Let’s watch Scream.” You said, shifting a bit in your seat, trying to get comfortable so if you became tense it wouldn’t be painful, you hoped maybe this movie wouldn’t have too many moments where you’d jump? but you knew deep down that that’s what you wanted, to be able to cuddle up to your Papa and find comfort in him.
Secondo then turned to the TV, and turned on Scream, the first of many.
The beginning scene wasn’t horribly scary, that is, until there was a loud window breaking and your flight instincts kicked in, quickly laying down on his chest and shoving your face into his shirt, getting a small chuckle out of him
“Too much for you, Tesoro?”
“Nuh uh, no way, just caught me off guard!”
“Ah, I see.” It was obvious he didn’t believe you, but he was enjoying your closeness, so he kept his mouth closed, Continuing to watch the movie.
Whenever he felt you shake or a small noise of fear would escape you, he would start to pet your head, and hold you closer, usually not saying a word because he knew you would get shy about being scared.
Eventually his petting slowed until it stopped, his hand simply resting on the back of your head
You looked up at him, and he had fallen asleep.
This, of course, made you smile, although a little sad. Even if he was asleep, you were still cuddled up to him, so you were still content. After the third movie had finally ended, it was late, so you turned the TV off and let yourself drift off cuddled up to him , smiling contently
You woke up a bit cold, realizing your cuddle partner had been switched out with a pillow of similar scent.
Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, you heard Secondo make his way over to you
“Buongiorno, Tesoro. I hope you rested well, you almost wouldn’t let me out this morning. Breakfast is already being prepared downstairs, get dressed and ready, we’ll head down together.”
You hummed affirmatively, still a bit sleepy as you hobbled over to your dresser, grabbing some clothes and heading to take a shower.
Hi omg it’s been so long since i’ve wrote literally anything for anyone? i’m so happy with this tho. Spent all morning on it!!💚💚
Secondo is one of my favorites to write for, I love my grump old men.
Unironically, this was so fun to write, if you don’t know me, you’ll learn quickly i’m a horror movie junkie.
I really honestly did wanna do kinktober but i do NOT have enough time to write smut everyday, fluff yes, smut no, i would rather not have my professor know that im a degenerate.
This was so great for my first returning writing project! i loved it so much. Tysm for the request!!!💚💚
#secondo#papa emertius#papa emeritus secondo#papa emeritus x reader#papa secondo#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#papa emeritus ii x female reader#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost band x reader#the band ghost x reader
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"Bearing the old ones' bastard son"
Hiiiiiiiiii so basically * Clarissa lore *
Mary, a devote catholic, falls under the spell that is Secondo's charm, and has his bastard child. To which he doesn't know about, not even before death. After the retirement of Papa Emeritus IV, there seems to be no more heirs until one day, Clarissa finds herself on 23andme looking for her birth father. The next thing she knows, she's on a private plane escorted to the church of Satan. Secondo doesn't get his happy settling down ending unfortunately. I mean, I could write it, but what fun would that be?
#art#art by me#ghost bc#ghost fanart#nameless ghouls#i love women#papa secondo#papa emeritus fanart#papa emeritus ii fanart#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iii#papa copia#papa terzo#aurora ghoulette#cumulus ghoulette#nameless ghoulettes#dewdrop ghoul#aether ghoul#swiss ghoul#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#oc#oc art#my ocs#my oc art#catholiscism#aesthetic
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Chat Log Name : It hurts to be something, It’s worse to be nothing with you
Chat Log Description : Papa Emeritus II and his knight trying to survive.
Online Users : Papa Emeritus II (Secondo), Knight! Reader
Chat Log Status : Medieval AU! & Knight AU!
CONTENT WARNINGS : Second POV, Murder/Human sacrifice, Secondo is OOC, Fluff, Major Injuries, Historical and Medical Inaccuracies. (No plot & will not make sense, first time writing for Papa II.)
< Ao3 link Event >
The bright flames ignited a long forgotten flame in your chest. It was the unholy ceremony for the Dark Lord. His unholiness was dressed in his papal attire, you’d been the right hand of Papa Emeritus the second for as long you’ve been alive. The blade of Papa Emeritus was the title that was given to you due to your unwavering devotion to him. This unholy ceremony was to grant an excellent battle for Papa Emeritus II to spread the words of the unholy master. Everything was correct, all he needed was a sacrifice.
The wooden doors opened to the room, the sound of dragging chains on the cobblestone echoed throughout the room.
The sacrifice was dragged by their arms, skin covered with bruises, cuts from bloodletting, and soot from the floor of the cellars. Their eyes were drained of life, they flopped on the altar table like a recently dead fish; unmoving and accepting their fate of no longer seeing their home. The jeweled blade entered their chest, watched them jolt up from the pain that sparked them back alive.
You retrieved the bloodied blade from Papa Emeritus II, wiping the blood away with a handkerchief. Candelabras were put out by the acceptance of the dark lord.
You and Papa Emeritus II walked past the courtyard, the echoing sound of your iron armor moving danced throughout the open space. A clergyman had stopped you both, discussing where to speak to the problem with the lost followers that don’t want to hear the truth.
“Do you want me to deal with the non-believers, your unholiness?” you asked.
“No.” He looked at you with a stern expression. “You have better things to do than to care for some non-believers.”
His chasuble dragged on the marble floor almost matching the noise of your sabatons clicking on the stone and dirt. The ferula that he held was polished as it tapped with every step he did, the silver ghrucifix shined with the sun as You couldn’t help but admire the subtle beauty of Papa Emeritus II Secondo. He ignited a flame that seemingly could never be put out.
His hands were scarred from his rituals but they all showed the passage of knowledge with each scar yet he still admired your scars that covered your face; a miracle he murmured with each subtle kiss on the healed scar to try and make it disappear but it never went away. Your iron helmet rested on his lap, it felt like ages feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.
His chambers were littered with undergarments of previous siblings of sin who he desired for a moment or who desired him. A dozen of siblings of sin hurriedly put on their clothes and left as You opened the door for him to walk his chambers in instead of opening it for the siblings of sin who hurried out. It was a sacred ritual that you both had created to ease the stress and pain from the long awaited battles.
His scarred hands removed the helmet and bevor that seemingly had become your second skin. The same scarred hands that held your crying face all those years ago. He removed your iron gauntlets which still had blood from the previous battles in them. His hands took off vambraces, couters, rerebraces and pauldrons from you. His hands stopped at the center of your cuirass, carefully untying it and the faulds that came along. You untie the iron cuisses, poleyns, greaves and sabatons. Leaving you in a hauberk and an aketon.
You dipped the wet rag, twisting it so it would remain damp, carefully wiping away his papal face paint. He wasn’t the young man from his youth as wrinkles appeared whenever the paint was removed. He is beautiful in your eyes. His closed eyes opened since you had stopped wiping away the papal paint.
“Caro mio/Cara mia, is something wrong?” He asked.
“I’m alright, Secondo.” You lied, in-fact you were dying in the inside of your chest due to his beauty.
He knew that you had lied to him but he never decided to bring it up since it might’ve made you uncomfortable. You continue to carefully wipe away his papal paint then drying his face, your hands took off his mitre to put it on a nightstand, your hands still trembled taking off of his chasuble and dalmatic. You had long discarded the hauberk and aketon; leaving you in a tunic and undergarments as it was the same for Secondo.
He guided you to the bed. Your scarred hands trembled with the gentle touches of Secondo’s hands pulling you closer to him. The good thing about riposo was that he was a fast sleeper yet something urged you to stay awake; was it fear or overwhelming thoughts that refused to calm down but they all revolved around the safety of Papa Emeritus II.
“Caro mio/Cara mia,” he groaned. “Sleep.”
His tired hand patted the pillow next to him. You didn’t utter a word as resting your head and it felt comfortable and calm to be able to sleep next to him.
Soft yet scarred hands caressed your cheek as you stirred awake, your tired eyes shot open realizing that he was already dressed. You were behind and needed to get dressed, immediately.
“Calm, caro mio/cara mia,” he said, softly yet his voice held a soft rasp to it. “You haven’t rested well enough in days.”
Your hands could only give a response of running over his knuckles while your body turned to get up from bed. Feeling his sharp glances on your body while he glided over to you, hearing the dragging of his chasuble.
“You don’t deserve such scars.” His fingertips glided on your exposed shoulder. “I wish I could take these away from you.”
“These scars.” You turned to look at him. “These bare no such burden, Secondo. These mean that it was worth it for your message to spread.”
His hands helped you back into your undergarments while you carefully adjusted your tunic to fit correctly underneath your hauberk and over your aketon. Your heart cracked seeing the mighty Papa Emeritus II kneel before you to tie and adjust the sabatons, greaves, poleyns, and cuisses. You always wanted—always needed help getting into your armor which you requested multiple times for a squire to help you get ready to not disturb him but he seemingly rejected every request for a squire.
“Will you ever give me a reason?” You placed on your gauntlets. “Why do you always reject my needs for a squire?”
“You have no need for a squire,” he grumbled, his fingertips remaining for a moment then left.
His smooth palms tied the cords that held your iron breastplate to your hauberk and your forehead rested on his dalmatic; feeling the sliver embroidery.
Afternoon of oranges, pinks, and purples swirled to reveal the sunset. The cloister garths were decorated with the finest jewels and a feast was held in the honor of the streak of successful battles. You felt that you were naked since the silver armor that acted like a cocoon and second skin was stripped off of you due to the insistence of a Sibling Superior that wanted the day of feasts to involve nothing of the sorts for such a feast.
Cold air of the midnight sky brushed your skin even though you wore the basic layers of your tunic, it was still so cold; subtly causing your body to shake and cold air seeped into the tiniest hole of your tunic and into your skin, tightly clutching your bones and leaving an invisible imprints.
“Cold, amore?” Secondo placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.
Your fingertips swirled around the golden goblet, looking down to see yourself in the reflection, as a smile carved onto your face while sipping the wine from the golden goblet. You didn’t like this, absolutely loathing the sense of relaxation that was different to blood pumping adrenaline in battles.
“Allow me to guide you somewhere more to your liking?” He asked with a smile that you knew.
You nodded, following right behind him like you always did. The smile remained on your face, seeing the small table decorated to your likings of meals. Watching how the yellowed candlelight revealed each wrinkle and crease of his face; intimidating yet comforting. Your eyes spotted something familiar hanging on a hook.
“You still have my rosary?” You asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He replied, still having a smile on his face. “It is important since it was the first gift that I received when I became Papa.”
Your hands ran over the beads of the rosary, remember how difficult it was to make it and how many beads you had to steal from the arts and crafts storage room.
“I will make you a new one,” you stated.
Papa Emeritus II merely laughed at your response as his hand held your cheek. Was he always this close?
“It takes away the speciality of it,” he said. “But you can try to make a new one for me.”
Your fingertips ran over his hand that decided to rest on your cheek. You smiled at him and allowed him to guide you to the table that held the freshly cooked meals.
“Secondo,” you said, “you can still enjoy the festivities. I’m not making you stay with me.”
Secondo raised his eyebrow, he seemed disturbed by your statement since he was known for his partying yet you didn’t want to hold him back.
“I don’t think that I would trade this for the feasts,” he said.
Secondo felt your side of the bed, empty. He wasn’t surprised by your side being empty since you occasionally left to grab something to drink but you always came to the bed. Minutes seemingly felt like hours as he begrudgingly got up from the warmth of his bed to see the small storage room light on and the door slightly creaked open.
He opened the door to see you, hunched over the wooden desk as yawns escaped your lips.
“Amore, you need to rest.” His hands made it to your shoulders. “This can wait.”
“No, just…I’m almost done with this, Secondo,” you replied.
Secondo watched your hands bend wires to finish the gift that you had promised him. As your hands used round pliers to add the hook to a silver ghrucifix to the end of it. He noticed your reddened eyes staring up at him, handing him the newly made rosary.
“It’s the same, nothing different,” you said.
Secondo merely smiled, helping you up from the desk and helping you in bed.
Secondo’s hands linger on your shoulders; tying your pauldrons to your breastplate. He sighed not wanting to start the day's activities since today he would be made to give daily speeches to the village that they had recently gained control over. Rather than being assigned to guard Papa Emeritus II since that duty was given to his ghouls and you were sent to deliver the freshly baked breads and other goods that the village seemed to be lacking in.
“Secondo.” Your hands held his. “I don’t think that I should wear my armor today. It’s just a delivery of good will to earn their trust.”
“No,” he stated. “We must stay alert. We do not know what will happen.”
You grabbed the rosary that hung on the hook and put it on, tucking it underneath your aketone.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“It’s for good luck,” you responded. “I will need it since you always seemed to have a furrowed brow.”
It went wrong. You helped deliver freshly baked goods to the villagers with the fellow siblings of sin while Papa Emeritus II gave the daily words of encouragement from Sathanas but the daily spreading of Sathanas’ words were ruptured, ending in a pond of blood. Corpses ending up in mangled piles and unrecognizable. You managed to pull him into an alleyway, hidden behind sandbags and wooden piles.
“Please,” you whispered,” I’m l— I care deeply for your safety, Secondo.“
You tightened the discolored cream fabric onto his open gash on his leg while he gritted his teeth. How deeply you wanted to hold his cheek and reassure him. You couldn’t hurt him, you loved him too much to hurt the man who stole your heart. Yet, you didn’t want your heart back.
“Amore,” he asked,”what are you planning?”
You gave no response to his question and that’s what he feared.
“Earth, I trust that you will get him back to the abbey, correct?” You asked, looking up at Earth.
Earth blended into the darkness, only the silver glimmer of the earth sigil on his fascia shown, his bauta mask only seemed to tilt. Papa Emeritus II wanted to struggle out of his ghoul’s arms but it didn’t budge. No matter how much flailing or demanding to release him didn’t work.
Papa Emeritus II and Earth reached the abbey as its wooden doors opened. Papa Emeritus II sat on a marble bench next to the infirmary which smelled of blood and screams, he tried to understand what happened and he wouldn’t—couldn’t move his arms; they’d gotten heavier. The siblings of sin working in the infirmary peeled off the layers of his papal robes to make sure that he wasn’t injured badly. He didn’t want their touches, he didn’t want them touching his body. The touches weren’t gentle enough, they didn’t treat him with care or the just right amount of gentleness he wa—he needed.
Papa Emeritus II sat in his undergarments in his bedchambers, he didn’t allow anyone to touch his face. It was sacred, only you could touch it. His papal face paint had streaks and smears from his crying. His head shot up hearing a knock to his chambers, you finally came back to him. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling it open expecting to see you, slightly injured. It wasn’t you, it was one of many siblings of sin that were sent to gather the remains of parishioners to bury in the Church’s cemetery.
“What?” He asked.
The sibling of sin gave no response, hands trembling to hand Papa Emeritus II, the familiar gift. It was your rosary, he remembered the making of such a fragile thing. He could only close the door, why did the room get smaller? Why was it getting difficult to breathe and how do you breathe again? He fell to his knees, tightly clutching the rosary to his chest as the soft memories of your face holding a smile and how magnificent you looked while sleeping. Papa Emeritus II gasps echoed throughout his chambers, trying desperately to breathe as his chest tightened more with each breath.
Papa Emeritus II woke up, still on the wooden floor as his lips felt dry. He got up as he looked at his neat bed; not a single wrinkle. His scarred hands held the rosary, hanging the rosary on a hook where it originally rested. He rolled up his sleeves and walked over to his dressing table to wipe away the old papal face paint. His hands twisted the rag, wiping away the imperfect face paint smeared by his tears. His hands dipped into the porcelain bowl, catching a glimpse of his face in the mirror. Papa Emeritus paused, seeing newly formed eye bags caused by his crying.
Nothing other than reading the losses of parishioners and siblings of sin from the sudden attack from the previous day. Papa Emeritus II spent his time pacing in the cloister garth as it still had remnants of the feast that was once celebrated, days earlier, he looked up at the clouds; gray and gloomy. He heard it yet a nibbling thought swirled into his mind as was this his mind putting a facade over his eyes and ears?
He felt a strange sensation while walking the hallways and cloister garth, it was silent. Nothing. No more sabatons hitting the cracked cobblestone except for the soft hymns of sin mixed with prayers, his gloved hand trembled tightly clutching the ferula. A piece of him was—A piece of him is lost, a crack had formed into his heart; the one thing he always claimed that he didn’t have. He stood underneath the rain, his papal face paint was smearing down. Papa Emeritus II wanted to scream at the world, he wanted to scream at Sathanas. He wanted to scream at himself for being weak and not what a Papa is supposed to be. His voice was hoarse while his salty tears mixed with the rain, leaning on his ferula for support as his legs trembled underneath the heaviness of his wet chasuble, dalmatic.
Papa Emeri—Secondo needed to get rid of the void that decided to sleep inside of the cracks of his heart, he needed to fill the void; Fill the void to get rid of these lousy emotions. Day, night, and afternoon to nothing. His scarred hands dipped a wet rag into a porcelain bowl, water dribbled down, soaking into his rolled up sleeves, each wipe that took off his papal face paint seemed to only smear it more and more; ‘only if you were here..’ Secondo seemed to have a stare off with his reflection, how deeply he wanted to perfectly take off his papal face paint like you once did. How deeply he wanted to feel your warmth rather than seeking the somewhat identical warmth from the siblings of sin that could never be identical; he missed—he yearned for your very presence.
A never-ending wave as he drank communional wine from a golden goblet, bitterly smiling at the moon; losing count of the many times he indulged in sin to get rid of the never-ending void. Now, truly he no longer had a heart since you took it with you. He hated you for it. He hated your eyes, hated the way they stared at him with the purest love that he didn’t deserve.
Papa Emeritus II stood in the infirmary room, his heart hardened and his tears dried up from the amount of times that his tears decided to overwhelm him and caused his chest to ache with so much pain. He looked at the wounded and unrecognizable person who was lying in the infirmary bed.
“Do you think that I can be joked about?” He scoffed. “This isn’t them.”
“No, no, your unholiness.” Sibling of sin stammered, “But how are you certain that this isn’t them? Your unholiness, you must start checking the mort—“
“I immediately would know,” He stated. “Don’t suggest that I go to the mortuary. They are strong enough to survive, I know.”
It had been a couple of weeks nearly a month since you had been etched out of his world. Yet, a small piece in his heart and mind made him believe that somehow you could return back into his arms once more. Papa Emeritus II blinked multiple times as his eyes were unsteady and unfocused; trying to read the document. He heard a sudden knock that roused him from the document.
“Come in,” he said.
A sibling of sin twisted open the doorknob to see him engulfed in stacks of books and candlelight that perfectly etched the painted features.
“Your unholiness, the infirmary had requested your presence once more,” they said.
Papa Emeritus II stood up, causing his armchair to creak and he grabbed his mitre to place on his head while grabbing his ferula to help him balance. His shoes clicked onto the cobblestone floor in a hurry, pushing open the infirmary door to hear whimpers rather than the silence that he had gotten used to. His chest tightened, could it truly be you this time?
The greens in his eyes swirled with life, no longer were they dulled. You were still recognizable to him even if you were badly injured, currently. Watching the debridement process while others wrapped your arms with bandages, hearing your voice in such agony; unnoticed tears fell down his face.
He wanted—He needed a moment alone with you; requested it while they finished wrapping your body in bandages. He watched the infirmary aid workers shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind them. Immediately discarding his mitre to the nearby nightstand, rushing to your side as his heart ached. The throbbing sensation and heaviness continued with each step, how deeply he loathed his papal regalia that once was a symbol of never ending pride soon became apart of the weight of his anguish, seeing you; so fragile.
He watched your trembling bandaged hand raise up, your back was no longer smooth, it was touched by fresh stitches and bandages. He pulled up a nearby wooden chair to the bedside, watching your half-lidded eyes stare up at him and his handheld yours.
“Why did you do such a thing,” he murmured. “Why, amore? Why would you do it when you know it would cause me such pain?”
He could only hear your labored breathing as a response. As he wanted to be mad at you, at himself. Secondo loved you so much that he wanted to hold you even if you were scarred, broken beyond repair or dead but you were home. Home with him.
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Heavens Away | Secondo x f!Reader
For a brief moment he feels like he’s standing in the chapel, gazing into the face of Lilith on the triptych, envying the serpent that is intimately wrapped around her body. He would worship you, he thinks, in much the same way.
Content: 2.8k words, f!reader, smut (breast play, dry humping, kissing, marking, praise, oral sex m receiving, p in v sex, soft dominance, couch sex, unprotected), some affectionate and loving Secondo smut ♡ – 18+, MDNI
Masterlist – Ao3 link
He watches you for a time-stopping moment – the frame is frozen, the video on pause, the clock ticking in a vacuum. He is the visitor in a museum of fine arts who stops in front of a painting to admire. The scene is simple. You sit by the window in nothing but a loose shirt, the evening sunlight illuminating your head like a halo – an angel dipped in liquid gold. The book you’re reading is one of his, a restored early edition of Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, and you handle it with the care of a mother cradling her child.
Perhaps you notice his attention. The frames start moving again as your head turns in his direction. And then you smile. He can’t bring himself to look away, even though he knows it will eventually disturb the view. If the sunlight is warm, it holds nothing to the warmth in your gaze.
As expected you close the book and delicately place it on the armchair as you rise. He watches your figure as it crosses the room, so familiar to his eyes and hands, yet never losing the charm of novelty. You stop where he has reclined comfortably on the sofa and his eyes are drawn upwards to meet yours, the scene changing into a new composition. For a brief moment he feels like he’s standing in the chapel, gazing into the face of Lilith on the triptych, envying the serpent that is intimately wrapped around her body. He would worship you, he thinks, in much the same way.
You reach out with cautious hands, cradling his head as softly as the book, like he is precious beyond any measurable worth. Secondo can’t resist the temptation any longer, wondering if you are the serpent after all. He pulls you down into his lap, face pressed against yours so firmly that you can feel the outline of his nose in your cheek. You wrap your arms around him for support, giggling slightly when he drags his lips over the sensitive spot below your ear. He inhales the sound like he inhales your scent, then exhales in warm huffs against your tender throat.
“You smell divine, my dove.” He nuzzles you again, slowly this time, then hums in delight. “My favorite scent.”
You move your hands back to his head, gently scratching and massaging his scalp. “You’re very affectionate today.”
His lips ghost over your jaw. “Is that so bad?”
Right when you open your mouth to answer he sucks on your skin and you gasp, squirming on his thighs to try and calm your growing need. His hands settle on your hips in a firm grip, keeping you steady as his wet lips trail further down. “N-No.”
“You taste divine too,” he mumbles, unimpressed by your reaction. “So good for me, so very good for your Papa.”
“Seco–”
You trail off when his lips attach to your neck, sucking roughly. You cling to his shoulder, his neck, anywhere you can reach, moaning as you feel lustful shivers running down your spine. For a while you get lost under his ministrations, all your love for him so very palpable when he touches you like this. His teeth nibble your skin, his tongue soothing over the spot before he sucks yet again, so hard you wonder if he’s trying to absorb you, suck you into him. Desperately aching for him, you attempt to move your hips against his, to feel more of him, but his grip is too firm. With his mouth so insistent, your skin soon starts to burn, then properly ache. Maybe he’s already broken it, licking up your blood without faltering.
“Papa, it h-hurts,” you whimper.
He breaks away slightly. “Does it?”
“Hm, lots.”
“Mi scusi, amore, I get a little… carried away. You forgive me, sì?”
“Mhm.”
You’d forgive him anything, you both know this, especially when he calls you amore. The corners of his mouth spread against your neck as they form a loving smile. His lips tenderly move over the abused spot, a featherlight kiss that sends goosebumps over your skin, leaving a wet mark that feels cool as he breaks away.
“Better, yes?”
You smile as you gaze into his shimmering mismatched eyes, then at his mouth that is all messy and blotched. “Yes, better.”
“Give your Papa a proper kiss now, hm?”
Your lips meet his in a silent gasp, remains of his make-up mixing with your spit and leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. His kisses are always deliberate, even in your daily life. He never kisses in passing but sacrifices a few precious seconds to linger, firm and intimate, until you know he does not take even a fraction of you for granted.
There lies a certain pain in knowing that someone wants your body but nothing more. That they love you enough to take your pleasure but not enough to help and carry the weight of your soul. This is not what being with Secondo feels like. He is slowly, carefully peeling the outer layers from your heart, reaching into the depths of your desires beyond just the carnal lust you both share. Every kiss and touch caress parts of you that you kept protected for so long that you forgot they existed. You think, you hope, that you are doing the same for him.
You break the kiss for a sigh when his hands push underneath the shirt that is draped over your body, unbuttoned and falling open as soon as his hands move upwards to cup your breasts – his shirt, really, that you wrapped around your shoulders earlier that evening. Your skin is soft as he feels the weight of them, gently kneading the supple flesh and circling your nipples with his thumbs. Secondo kisses you again when you arch into his touch, swallowing the whimpers and moans his deft fingers draw from you. You’re free to roll your hips now and you take advantage of your position. He can’t fight off a groan when he feels the outlines of your cunt grinding down on his cock, slicking your underwear as well as his pants.
“I want you in my mouth,” you whisper. “Please.”
He has never been able to deny you the pleasure of tasting him, no matter how fast it usually brings him to his release, seeing that you are always so eager to please him. When he looks into your eyes now, filled with need and devotion, he swallows against a dry throat.
“Ask me again,” he says. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“Please, let me taste you. Let me feel your weight on my tongue, Papa. I crave you.”
He gives a nod and you break away to settle between his legs on the floor, thighs tightly pressed together. His arms have spread over the back of the sofa and he shifts his hips forward to grant you better access, bracing you between his strong thighs. With the same deft, cautious fingers you open the buckle of his belt, feeling your own wetness on his crotch as you pull down the zipper of his slacks. He is beautifully hard and Secondo gives a relieved sigh when you pull his cock from its restraints. You immediately nuzzle it, pressing your cheek against his hot, leaking member.
“You are an infernal sight,” he comments. “A paragon of lust and devotion.”
You smile and rub your face against his cock, looking up to meet his intense gaze. His eyes are focused on you as he brings his hand to your other cheek, so tenderly that it draws a sigh from you. You lean in to kiss his abdomen, pressing more soft kisses around his cock, the tender skin where it meets his body, down his length, never losing sight of him. His skin tastes salty and his dark pubic hair tickles your nose as you kiss down to his balls. The hand on your cheek fully cups you now, his thumb pressing just below your eye, and you smile up at him.
“Are you teasing your Papa?” Secondo asks, swallowing hard in his visible strain.
“No,” you assure him with a kiss to the underside of his shaft. “I am loving my Papa.”
His lips part but before he can say anything, you close your lips around his tip and distort his words into a low groan. Instead of forcing you to go faster, he allows you to set a languid pace, breaking away to kiss his hooded tip every so often while his hand gently combs through your hair. You take your time, looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes, trying to show him exactly how much you appreciate him. You don’t need him to be strong and perfect all the time. You want him to let go of his social constraints and allow himself to just be when he’s with you – your partner, your lover, the Papa of your very own church.
His breathing becomes more erratic when you take him deeper, caressing him with your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. You can feel his thighs flexing at your sides and you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, never losing sight of him. His eyes stay on yours as well, even as his eyelids begin to flutter from the stimulation. His hand tightens in your hair but he doesn’t exert any force, just holds you, massaging your scalp encouragingly.
“Amore,” he warns when he’s getting close. “Come up here, per favore. I want to feel your skin on mine.”
You break away, leaving him wet and achingly hard as you climb back into his lap. He urges you out of your garments, then pushes his pants fully down while you work open the buttons on his own shirt. He’s meticulous and before long you have your hands on his solid chest, caressing the dark curly hair that runs all over his body.
“I want you, Papa,” you whisper, kissing him again with an eager, open mouth.
Secondo allows you to grind down on his cock, the wetness between your legs easing the movement as he glides between your folds. You moan into each other’s mouths at the sensation and he pulls you close, chest against chest, so perfectly intimate and warm.
When you break away from the kiss, he purrs. “You have pleased your Papa, I think it is time that he pleases you, hm?”
His hands firmly grip your hips again, denting the soft flesh as he moves you to lie flat on your back. The sofa gives a squeak when he settles between your legs, spreading them as wide as the narrow surface allows. This is not his ideal spot in your quarters, he prefers to have space, to take his time with you to give you the attention you deserve. Right now, however, he is too stunned by the sight of you sprawled out underneath him with the evening sun still dipping your curves into its orange light. He remembers his silent promise to worship you and so he lets his lips caress every inch of your body he can reach.
He begins at the bruising spot on your neck. Already you squirm, trying to guide his mouth further down, and so he gathers your hands to pin them over your head. He has taught you patience over the time you’ve been together but he can never quite tame your eagerness. Not that he earnestly wants to.
“Ssh,” he says. “It is my turn to love you now.”
The deep breath you take at his words vibrates under his mouth as he kisses your sternum. You shiver, goosebumps spreading underneath his lips. Secondo gives himself another few minutes, covering your chest in kisses, leaving a few deep red marks in the most prominent spots.
“Please,” you whisper, your wrists fighting against his strong grip.
He does not let go, instead he brings his lips back to yours, pushing his tongue inside the cavity of your mouth and delving as deep as you allow. Your hips buck and he presses you down with his full weight, plundering your mouth until your lips are swollen. His free hand moves between your bodies, ghosting over your mound until his fingers graze your clit. You gasp at the contact, closing your eyes as they lose their focus. He aligns his cock with your entrance, teasing you both by dragging his tip along your slit and lightly dipping inside.
“Oh, Papa.”
Secondo stills and circles your aching, swollen clit, drawing whimpers and deep lustful sounds from your throat with every rotation. Your moans are his favorite gospel, your breathy words the most devoted prayer he has ever heard. Again, your arms resist as you shift beneath his grasp, rolling your hips into his touch in your search for more.
“Papa,” you whisper, voice laced with complaint.
“You want to touch me, amore?” he asks, tightening his grip on your wrists.
“Yes.”
“Hmmmm, will you beg for me? You know how I love it when you do.”
“Papa,” you repeat, squirming impatiently in his hold. “Papa, please. I want to touch you.”
He doesn’t let go but looks down at you with a loving glimmer in his eyes that speaks more than any confession ever could. He looks vulnerable and for a drawn-out moment you just look at each other, no words necessary when your eyes meet. His lips part and the last traces of his resistance slowly melt away.
“Secondo,” you whisper now. “Please.”
He finally releases your wrists and then his whole face softens, the deep creases evening out until he’s smiling. You wrap your hands around his neck, refamiliarising yourself with the tenderness of his skin as your fingertips trace every single curve you can find. It’s the touch of a butterfly, tickling so softly that it takes his breath away.
“Amore, you have already touched me,” he says, a shimmer glossing over his eyes, tears or a trick of the light, you’re not quite certain, “in so many ways.”
With that he finally pushes inside, dragging his cock slowly along your walls until your hips are flush and he can’t go any deeper. He fills you so perfectly, molding you around him to match his shape. Every roll of his hips is a revelation, every moan a promise of his unending devotion to you. You pull him closer until his full weight is resting on you and you can feel his warm skin on yours. Even though his thrusts are more shallow now they seem to fill you even more thoroughly, spreading pleasure in your whole body. Soon you clench around him, your hands grasping him tightly, and he grinds into you with more fervor.
“Come for me, my dove,” he whispers, grunting when he feels the tightness in his own body that announces his impending release. His thumb goes back to drawing circles over your clit. “Come for your Papa.”
You shudder, then the heat in your belly spreads in rippling waves as you fall over the edge, wrapping your legs around him to keep him as close as possible. Secondo stills for a moment, inhaling sharply when he feels you tightening around him, revelling in the sounds you make, the sensation of your body trembling underneath him with the intensity of your pleasure. All of his senses are attuned to you.
“Hm, so good for me,” he says, trying to hold back for a little longer. “S-so good.”
When you begin to come down from your high he continues to move, extending your pleasure. You gently stroke his neck, his back, caressing him as he approaches his own release. He can feel the love in your soft touches and his chest clenches, his heart stuttering just like his hips when he finally comes. He groans and buries his face in your neck as he spills heavily inside of you. He gives you all that he has, a few more shallow thrust to prolong the sensation. When he is spent, he rolls you onto your sides, keeping you close.
In the shared space, your breaths mingle, and he can’t help but nuzzle your nose, placing another soft, lingering kiss to your mouth.
“I love you, Secondo,” you whisper, still caressing the back of his head.
“And I love you, my dove,” he replies.
You smile and close your eyes but he can’t bring himself to stop looking at your relaxed, angelic face. If he had any talent he would paint you just like this, capture you basking in such deep bliss and preserve the sight for all of eternity. Instead he leans in to press two featherlight kisses to your eyelids, another one to your nose, then your lips, and traps the picture deep inside of his heart.
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡
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a/n: just a little something in between longer fics. Who wouldn't want Secondo to be this lovesick for them?
cw: secondo x f! reader, mention of alcohol, explicit language
Secondo can't explain it, but he enjoys you. Terzo teases him that you're obviously his favorite, but he just grunts and waves him off dismissively.
The truth is that you make him fucking weak, make his heart race, make him tremble. And he's not used to it.
And then the next day, you're in his office, wearing that fruity perfume he has grown to love - a reward to his senses; a smell he hopes only he gets to enjoy. He makes a mental note to find the name of it. For a future gift, or to have it in case you stop wearing it.
He can barely remember his name when you look at him with those pretty eyes, filled to the brim with innocence and kindness. How wonderful it would be to see those eyes looking up at him while he's balls deep in your throat. Or when he's fucking that tight little cunt. He wonders how your moans would sound echoing off the walls in his bedroom.
He could've easily asked you on a date. He should have done it months ago. He's positive you would've said yes, even for just a quick rendezvous. But his breath catches just thinking of uttering the goddamn words.
And to be honest, he needs some liquid courage this time. A glass of bourbon, of whiskey, something hot and warm down his throat so the anxiety of making himself a fool in front of you doesn't crawl into his skin and stay there gnawing at him. Satanas, he's fucking pathetic for you. Whatever happened to the scary, intimidating Papa? Apparently, the minute he sees you, he decides to disappear. He can't bear to see you afraid of him.
So he drinks.
And drinks some more.
And the next morning, he doesn't look too well. You notice. Of course, you do, you sweet little thing.
"Papa, are you OK?"
He doesn't answer, so you worry and come closer.
"Papa?? Do you need anything? I can get a nurse or someone to-"
You gasp in surprise as you're pulled by the wrist and suddenly face to face with his intense gaze. That same one that makes you melt.
"I just need you. Just you, cara mia."
#ghost band#the band ghost#ghost band fanfic#papa secondo#ghost fanfic#secondo#secondo x reader#ghost the band#secondo emeritus#daddy secondo#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#papa emeritus 2#ghost band fic#papa ii
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good morning kisses+ you're gonna get lipstick all over me
with:
Ribz I took your prompt and gave it a vampire twist, I hope you like it!
Breakfast in Bed
Secondo x Female Reader ~ The perfect start to your new life as a vampire
Warnings: vampire violence and all that entails, biting, blood, more blood, sharing a meal vampire style, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, soft!vampiric!Secondo, rough sex, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2400 words
It was strange waking up after you died.
You weren’t struggling to breathe, gulping down huge breaths of air. Technically you didn’t need to breathe anymore although Secondo said you might still do it out of habit. The first thing you became aware of was the feel of the cool sheets against your skin. You used to make fun of Secondo’s demands when it came to thread count, but now you were nothing but thankful for his pickiness as you laid there naked.
With a soft groan you stretched out, spreading your limbs wide on the large bed as you started to look around the room. Secondo had promised you that you wouldn’t wake up alone but there wasn't a sign of him anywhere. The thick curtains were drawn over the windows and the only light came from a few dim lamps scattered around the room. You planted your elbows beneath you to push yourself up but a horrific cramping in your stomach had you gasping and dropping back onto the bed.
The pain was more intense than anything you’d experienced before. Even more than how much it hurt when Secondo had bit into your neck. You moved a hand up to where his teeth hand sunk in, expecting to feel broken skin but there was nothing. Your skin was smooth and cold to the touch. No sign of what he had done to you, of what you had asked him to do to you.
You had asked him to make you a vampire.
The Emeritus family being vampires was a horribly kept secret in the church. Most of that was due to Terzo, a man that couldn’t be discreet about anything. But with their status as vampires being well known amongst the congregation it provided them with ample opportunities to feed. Most Siblings of Sin were more than willing to expose their neck or wrist to one of the brothers. You counted yourself among them although Secondo’s favored place to bite you was at the inside of your thigh. Your flesh there was often marred with bruises and bite wounds from your Papa.
But that was before last night. Before he bit into his own wrist and had you drink from him. You could still taste him on your tongue and you unashamedly rubbed your thighs together when you thought of how erotic it had been.
“Look at you.” You froze at the sound of his voice, looking around the room for him without luck. When he spoke again you turned your head toward the foot of the bed and had to stifle a moan as you watched him walk out of the shadows towards you. “How do you feel, belezza?”
“It hurts.”
He tsked at you, shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed fully nude just like you were. In a stark contrast from yours his skin was warm as he placed his hands on your ankles. They moved up and down your shins in a soothing motion all while he held your gaze.
“Where does it hurt?” You moved a hand to rest over your belly, biting your lip when his eyes wandered down to watch as you rubbed it over your soft flesh. “I know why it hurts there, belezza, and I know how to fix it.”
“How?”
Secondo smiled, his fangs glinting in the light as he answered you.
“You need to feed, my darling.”
He turned and held a hand out behind him, reaching out into the shadows. With bated breath you listened to the soft footfalls of a visitor as they moved closer to the bed. A sister you hadn't seen before emerged into the light and you could taste her fear in the air. Secondo wrapped an arm around their waste and tugged them hard enough they fell across his lap and over your legs.
“Is she...is she for me?”
“Si, she’s yours. Ripe and ready to help you complete your transformation.” He reached for the poor girl’s neck and swept her hair aside. “Sister Dana agreed to help you, right sister?”
When she didn’t answer, Secondo grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her neck back. She cried out, a wounded noise escaping out of her throat at the treatment. Before tonight you would have stepped in to reprimand Secondo. You would have told him to stop playing with his food.
But now you were too hungry to care.
You managed to sit up, finding it easy to ignore the pain when every cell in your body was screaming for the blood pumping through the sister’s veins. Your hands flexed nervously in the bedding though, not sure what your first move should be.
“Would you like me to show you, belezza?”
All you could manage was a frantic nod, but Secondo didn’t seem to mind. He leaned into the sister’s face and gave her a kiss on each cheek. You could see her cheeks blushing from the attention, her mouth falling open when he dropped kisses down to her jaw. He kept going until he was at her throat, right over her jugular. Secondo murmured a few things in Italian before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into the poor girl’s neck.
“Papa!”
Her voice was loud and panicked, echoing around you. She tried to say something else but the only other noise she could make was a garbled sob as her own blood filled her mouth. Your stomach clenched painfully as you watched it drip down her lips and slide down her neck. With a deep, animalistic growl Secondo pulled off and ran his tongue up to her jawline to collect the spilled blood. The sister clawed at Secondo's chest, tears gathering in her eyes when all your Papa did was give her a cruel smile in return.
“Hush little lamb, you promised to be good.”
You could tell his words weren’t registering. A pained grimace had taken over her face as she struggled to breathe through the blood. Secondo chuckled darkly before he leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. After a few moments he held out his hand for you and you took it without a second thought, pulling yourself up and across the bed to press against his side. Your eyes fell to her neck, to the blood pumping from the wound and you eagerly fell forward to lap at it.
It was amazing. The taste of her blood slid across your tongue like wine. It was warm and rich, coating the inside of your mouth before dripping down the back of your throat. With a frantic moan you clutched her, pulling her away from Secondo to hold her more tightly against you. He moved so he was at your back and you could feel his hands on your shoulders, feel as they slipped around your front to cup your breasts. He pinched at your nipples, harder than usual but the pain was good, it was so good. You needed more of it.
You sank your teeth into her flesh, feeling it tear as you bit at her harshly. The wound easily opened wider and you started noisily sucking her blood down. One of Secondo’s hands started moving down your stomach, his hands bare and smooth on your skin. When he reached your cunt his chest vibrated against your back with a laugh.
“Wet for me already?”
Without warning he pushed two fingers into your dripping entrance, groaning as your body eagerly accepted them. You could hear the wet sounds of him pumping them in and out even as you continued to suck as much blood out of the sister as you could. Secondo’s fingers started working faster, brushing against that spot inside of you he never failed to find. In and out, over and over again. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer and right as you teetered on the edge he pressed his mouth to your neck and bit down.
The feeling of his teeth on you again made everything inside and around you shatter. You pulled off the sister’s neck and fell back, letting Secondo catch you. The sister fell backwards at the foot of the bed, her eyes blank and unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling. There was blood still oozing from her mouth and neck, the sight making you growl and want more. Secondo cooed into your ear, gently turning your head towards his and then capturing your mouth in a kiss. He growled at the taste of blood there and the kiss turned sloppy as you each chased the blood smeared over each other. With a deep groan he eventually pulled away, smiling softly at you before tilting his head towards the pillows.
“You should get some more rest, my darling.”
You pouted as you scooted back towards the head of the bed, you’d rather stay in his arms a little longer. Both of you were now warm from the blood you had drank but it felt good to be in his arms regardless. His face paint was now smeared and mixed with blood although it did nothing to hide his handsome features. If anything it made you desire him even more now that he had finally turned you. You felt yourself getting wet again as you took him in and you relaxed further back into the pillows, opening your legs a bit to try to entice him closer. Secondo took a deep breath, a feral grin forming on his face. He remained still though and you stuck your bottom lip out further, wondering what was stopping him.
“Secondo, come here.”
“One moment, belezza.” He reached out for the sister, her chest barely moving with her shallow breaths. You were surprised she was still alive, but as you watched Secondo lift her wrist to his mouth you figured that wouldn’t be the case for very long. “We shouldn’t waste our breakfast.”
The softest of whimpers escaped the girl’s mouth when he bit into her again. He was oddly gentle about it but that might have been because he was staring at you while he fed from her for the final time. You held his eyes as you slid a hand down your chest, stroking over your breast before going further to your cunt. His eyes followed your fingers as you started to tease at your clit, rubbing over it in tight circles as he watched. When you moved down and slipped them inside of you he abruptly dropped the girl’s wrist, her blood dripping from his lips and dropping onto your ankles as he loomed over you.
“Such a naughty thing, teasing your Papa.”
He leaned down and began to kiss your skin, his lips pressing into random spots all the way up to your thighs. In the light you could see the bloody lip marks he was leaving, almost like lipstick, some with a hint of black from his face paint. Secondo brought his hands up to the inside of your thighs and pressed them further apart so he could settle close to your cunt. You were still moving your fingers inside of you and his eyes followed them, his hot breath grazing your skin as he moved his head closer.
“Secondo, please.”
You were ready for him to tease you some more, but in one swift movement he grabbed your wrist and pulled it away so his mouth could replace your fingers. His deep groan as he tasted you vibrated through your whole body. The grip he had on your thighs got tighter as he circled your entrance with his tongue a few times before dipping it in as far as he could. When you were able to look down at him you could see where your juices had mixed with the blood and paint he was already wearing.
Secondo looked absolutely feral as he hungrily licked and sucked your cunt. You reached out with one hand and grabbed his head, your fingers sliding along his scalp for purchase. He seemed to take the hint and buried his face even deeper against you, his nose pressing perfectly at your clit. You were so close, so close to the edge again. Gasps and whimpers were escaping you non stop as Secondo fucked you with his tongue. You were about to start begging for something, for anything, to push you over when he finally moved his lips up to your clit, sucking on it right as he shoved two fingers inside of you. He rubbed them along your walls perfectly right as he nipped your clit and you were gone, your whole body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there recovering, the only thing that made you finally stir was Secondo’s lips moving up your stomach. When you mustered the energy to look down he was kissing you between your breasts. The area around his mouth shone with your release and you let your head fall back with a groan. He laughed against your skin, his breath exhaling on your neck as he continued to move up. When he was finally hovering over you, his eyes bright with laughter and love, you couldn’t help but laugh as well. You reached up and traced down the bridge of his nose before resting both your hands on his broad shoulders.
“Will it be like this forever?”
He grinned before leaning down and capturing your mouth in a kiss. You mewled as you tasted yourself on his lips, especially when you caught just the slightest hint of blood lingering in his mouth. When he pulled away and sat up to kneel between your legs you pouted at the loss of his mouth. Secondo just grinned again and moved his hands under you to grip your ass and lift you off the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct and he moved one of his hands to grip his cock.
“Are you ready for forever, belezza?”
Before you could respond he started pushing into you, relentless and without stopping. His thick cock stretched you like his fingers never could and you reached out to dig your nails into his arms as the pleasure and pain rolled over you. He didn’t stop until he was buried all the way, his hips flush with yours. It was so good you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh. The thought of forever with Secondo, like this, was amazing.
“If forever means I get to wake up like this every day, then yes.”
Secondo laughed as he gripped your waist tighter, easily lifting you up so he could start fucking you at the perfect angle.
“Anything you want, belezza.” His pace increased, punishing and pleasurable, his mismatched eyes staring into yours as he fucked you. “Anything.”
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Aftercare
18+ MDNI
Secondo x F!Reader - fluff, suggestive, explicit conversation, mention of viagra
Part 2 of Bite for @writingjourney. I’ll light a candle for you.
“Just there, amore,” Secondo sighs, relaxing into the heating pad with a soft groan. You ensure the warmth is placed right along his lower back comfortably so he can rest against the pillows in the shared afterglow of your lovemaking. “Grazie, grazie. Now come to your Papa.”
“Come to your Papa, come for your Papa,” you muse with a teasing grin. “So demanding these days, Secondo.” You slide under the covers next to him and squeak with surprise as he hooks an arm around your waist and drags you across the sheets to nestle against his side.
“What ever shall I do with that smart mouth, hmm?” He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder, his fingers dancing through your hair, taking the time to gently massage your scalp as he goes. He tugs on the strands just a little as he adds, “Fill it?”
“I think you’re finished for the night,” you say cheekily, earning another tug and a click of his tongue. You giggle softly in the darkened room and Secondo presses his lips to your head. You can feel him smiling.
“There’s a little blue pill in my bedside drawer that says otherwise, ragazzaccia,” he murmurs. Secondo brings his other hand to your bottom lip, his thumb dragging along the plump skin. He pulls gently, his white eye slitted with delight at the small noise that escapes the lips he longs to feel against his cock. “Ah,” he continues. “But you’re right. It is for another day, perhaps. Hmm. Or the morning. Yes, the morning.”
“You are going to render us both unable to walk,” you sigh, twisting your body to lay your head in his lap, your face turned slightly into the softness of his belly. Secondo gazes down at you with amusement. He brings a finger to the tip of your nose and gently draws a line to your forehead and then back down over one cheek, and then the other. Tracing your features. Memorizing those features.
“Ti amo,” he murmurs then, his gaze soft. Secondo heaves a sigh and looks up to the ceiling for a moment as if to anchor himself against the fierce emotion you could see in his eyes. “It would be worth it to lose functionality to the bliss of your body.”
You huff a laugh, and then reach up with your hand to run the backs of your fingers sweetly over his cheek, feeling the beginning of stubble on his jaw. “I love you, too. So very much. I wish I could…I don’t know, tell you. Explain. You are everything, Secondo. Everything.”
Secondo catches your hand and places a kiss to your palm before nuzzling his hooked nose into the skin. “You don’t need to explain, falenina. I feel it. Perhaps I do not understand it.” Secondo grabs your cheeks with a hand, exaggerating the pout you make at his words. “Now hush, do not make such a face. I light a candle in thanks to Lucifer every midnight for you. For loving me. For your health. For your happiness. I am…beyond grateful.”
“I want to be with you forever,” you say, turning fully to press your face to the warmth of his skin. Your cheeks flush, and his body shakes slightly as he laughs, but it’s a fond one, a loving one.
“Don’t make your poor Papa lean over. Come up here and kiss me,” he says, guiding you to sit back up.
A smile crosses your lips, playful. “Making demands again?”
Secondo sighs dramatically, drawing your lips to his in a lingering kiss. He only barely brushes his tongue over yours before pulling away, a wicked smile adorning his lips. “Ragazza mia. Open the bedside drawer would you?”
#the band ghost#mdni#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus ii x female reader#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#papa emeritus ii x reader#secondo x female reader#secondo x reader#papa secondo#the band ghost fanfiction#secondo emeritus#secondo fluff#papa emeritus ii fluff#poorly translated italian
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Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅
WARNING!! - NSFW
All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style
Primo
Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)
Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you
Soft and slow, very gentle
Long, painted strokes along your entire area
Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit
Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth
Secondo
Roughly fingers you while eating you out
Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you
Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too
Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him
Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)
Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)
Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him
Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs
Massages your ass and tits while eating you out
Terzo
Would die happy drowned in pussy
Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day
Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt
In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)
Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress
LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe
Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides
Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit
Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming
Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)
Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue
While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will
Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that
Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)
Copia
Kisses every inch of you
Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)
Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)
Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face
Wants to be used like your sex toy
Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off
Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response
He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times
Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it
Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”
Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)
#the band ghost#papa emeritus x reader#ghost band fanfic#ghost band smut#copia is my husband#ghost band headcanons#ghost band fanfiction#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#papa emeritus iv x female reader#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus ii x female reader#terzo fanfiction#terzo x reader#terzhoe#primo x reader#papa primo#secondo fanfiction#papa terzo x reader#copia x female reader#cardinal copia smut
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October 3rd
Hate Sex, Papa Emeritus II x Catholic!Reader
Masterlist
Words: 3.4k
Warnings: Hate sex; mean dom!Secondo; virgin!Reader; catholic!Reader (for now); degradation; piv; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); semi-public sex; corruption kink; cunnilingus; multiple orgasms; dubcon; choking; breeding kink?; cum eating (because I’m a slut for it okay? I’ll see you in the goddamn parking lot); vaginal sex; loss of virginity;
🔞 MDNI 🔞
Your father becoming the Pope was not something you anticipated, but it was definitely a dream of his. As his daughter, you had your own responsibilities to the church that you had to maintain, as well as making sure your father’s reputation and standing in the Catholic church remained good and respectable.
You had made it your mission to save as many souls as possible, but only one you had given up on. He was the second son of a man named Nihil Emeritus - a lowly man who called himself Papa and claimed to be the anti-Pope for the Satanic Church. The leader of the opposition. His second son, known simply as Secondo, was cardinal to his father, and was a real piece of work.
You had, in previous years, tried to show him the way of the light, the way of the Lord. But he would always counter you with ridiculous quips and notions about Him that made your blood boil. How can one person be so blind to the rulers that oppress them as much as Satan did? How can they follow a beast so blindly and stray so far from all that was pure?
Constant talks between Satanic and Catholic churches would happen to set specific boundaries both physical and spiritual, but once a year, the Vatican and the Ministry would meet to set an example to followers on both sides - though everyone hated these meetings and wanted them to end, it was important for your church to be seen at the very least converting the dark ones with kindness and love that our Lord had shown you and taught you to be.
This year, for the first time in a hundred years, the Ministry were to host the talks and you were nervous to say the least. You were uncomfortable entering such a sinful building, filled with demons and lost souls, covered in pentagrams and statues of the Devil. As you walked through the white marble halls, you clutched onto your crucifix necklace and prayed quietly for the Lord to keep you safe.
Outside, they had a press conference and photo opportunity. Your father and the blasphemous Nihil had their pictures taken together, shaking hands and pretending to engage in important conversations for the sake of the press, before the rest of the churches were invited to take photos together like a NATO Summit. He was placed next to you.
His ungodly mismatched eyes hidden underneath layers of thick, black paint making him look like a bald panda. Not a single hair underneath his zucchetto, instead the only hair on his head coming from his eyebrows and his moustache. It would be unseemly to compare his aesthetic to a certain kind of video, but he definitely looked like he came straight out of it. You were both in our twenties but his choice of appearance made him look so much older than you. Yet there he was, confidently standing in a respected Cardinal’s uniform, soiling it with a grucifix and a perverted smile.
For the photograph, he put his arm around you, and rested his large, leather gloved hand on your bicep. Though your face was smiling like you were happy to be there, your insides were crawling with disgust. You shoved him off you as soon as the cameras had switched off. “Get your filthy hands off me, you creep!”
“Only for the photo, dipshit. Believe me, looking at you makes my dick soft.”
“Must you always be so vulgar?”
“Must you always be a prude?”
“You know, you are such a-”
“Children,” You heard your father’s voice and immediately silenced yourself, “come.”
“Yes, father.” As you walked towards your father, you brushed passed Secondo’s shoulder hard and held your head up high, preserving what remained of your dignity. You knew your father would force you into penance later for your emotional outburst.
The day was seemingly endless, and you often found your mind drifting away with itself thinking of other things. At first, your mind went to lunch - what would those hellish kitchens serve you? No doubt ground up fetus spaghetti. But when your eyes met Cardinal Secondo’s, your thoughts drifted to him instead. If he wasn’t so brutish, he would be attractive. If he was Catholic he would be attractive. But he was Satanic, an abomination. He needed saving.
Finally, you were granted a break and ran to the restroom as quickly as you could. Coming out, however, you ran into Secondo again.
“Oh, look! It’s the little snob.” He said, his face as stoic as usual. “Probably pissed out the holy water she drinks.”
“Go stick your face in it, see how it feels to burn.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were into that.”
“You should repent. Beg the Lord for forgiveness. Turn to the light.”
“I’m much happier under the watchful eye of the fallen archangel, thanks.”
“You’ll burn in Hell.”
“That’s the idea.”
“Filthy sinners deserve to rot there. You and your family will suffer if you don’t-”
He moved towards you and grabbed your chin with his index finger and thumb, his eyes filled with anger and hate. You felt your heart rate spike in fear, yes, but there was also something else you couldn’t identify. “Listen to me, you stupid little sheep. I couldn’t give a fuck about your Lord, your God or the idiots who follow you. I don’t care about that fucking book you live and breathe by and I don’t care about you. You dare to come into my house and dictate what I do? I’ll do what I please, and worship who I please. Maybe you should repent, Sathanas would appreciate how you looked on your knees.”
“Get off me!” You shoved him as hard as you could and freed yourself from his touch. “You vile, filthy pig!” You hit his shoulder. “You sinful, disgusting cockroach! I would never get on my knees for evil bastards like you or your deranged goat god!”
“But you would get on your knees. Unless of course, you’re a virgin.”
You hit him again.
He gasped. “You are!” He laughed. “Saving yourself for marriage, huh? Keeping yourself pure and holy for a god that would kill you with no thoughts of regret.” He grasped onto your chin again. “I could save you, you know? Show you a better way of living. Worshiping a god who worships you back, and sends you the greatest pleasures you’ve ever known.” As he spoke, his face got closer and closer to yours until he was a single inch away from you. You could feel his breath on your face, smell the coffee from his break just moments ago. “Tell me to stop, little lamb, and I will.”
You should have. You don’t know why you didn’t. Maybe there was a part of you that hated how controlled you were by your father. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be tempted by a servant of sin. You weren’t sure about the reason, but you knew that when his lips touched yours and he pulled you in for the most passionate kiss you’ve ever had, or the only kiss you’d ever had, you were tasting a glimpse of the pleasure he offered you. His tongue immediately sought entry to your mouth, and you granted the permission, letting him take the lead and teach you what to do. It felt so good. You had to stop. This was wrong.
You pushed him off you one final time and slapped his face. No words were spoken, there wasn’t anything to say. He didn’t look offended by your slap, nor did he look put off by it. He still looked at you with the same lustful expression he had moments ago. And you couldn’t stop yourself.
Your hands gripped his cassock and pulled him back in for another kiss, this one more violent and desperate than it was before. It was messy, all teeth and tongues and no finesse to it whatsoever. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body, before gripping onto your ass. The feel of his covered hands clutching onto you sent a thrill through your frame you’d never felt before. Before you knew it, a moan had escaped from your lips and caught up onto his, which made him smile.
The sound of people approaching made you both pull away from each other. You began to panic. You were sure you looked disheveled enough from the kiss alone, and the Cardinal’s cheek was beginning to redden where you slapped it. In a panic, you grabbed hold of his hand and ran into the first unlocked door you could find, keeping the lights off and shutting yourselves in as quietly as you can. Secondo was chuckling at you, but you simply held a hand over his mouth and kept as quiet as you possibly could. You couldn’t be seen being intimate with a member of the Satanic church! It would ruin everything. When the people left, you sighed in relief.
You had unknowingly pulled both of you into an office of some kind, but you didn’t know whose office it was, or if they’d even be back. It was in the silence of the room that you realised what you’d just done. And how close you were to Secondo. Before more doubts could sneak back in, your lips found each other’s again. You don’t know who started it, but now that you had, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. His zucchetto was the first thing to hit the floor, followed by your own hat and your heels.
Secondo’s mouth travelled to your neck and began placing open mouthed kisses there, driving you mad with want. You couldn’t think of anything else other than him. You loathed him, he was evil. But he felt so good.
He backed you up against the desk in the room and continued to kiss your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. His were the first to touch you in so many places: your shoulders, your arms, your waist, your stomach, your breasts and now your thighs.
Your legs opened for him automatically so he could slot comfortably between them. Your sun dress hiked up over your thighs, giving him perfect access to your panties which were now drenched in your arousal. It wasn’t long before his hands made their way under your skirts and stroking over your vulva. He barely pulled away from your neck to utter his words, “the good Catholic girl, soaking wet for the Devil’s son. Do you think your god is watching, little lamb? Hm?” His fingers moved your panties aside. “Do you think he’s disappointed in you giving into temptation?”
“Yes.”
He stood up straight, his forehead touching yours as his finger rolled over your clit. You released a strangled noise at the new sensation, and your hips bucked. “You’ve been a good girl up until now, haven’t you? Keeping yourself pure for your god. My god sent me to you,” he pushed one finger inside your wet heat tapping upwards immediately, “I am His gift to you. Tell me, little lamb, will you accept His gift, even just for today? Will you let the one you hate the most defile you?”
“Yes!”
He kissed your lips again as his fingers hooked into your pure white panties and pulled them off you. He got onto his knees and directed your legs to rest onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help it. “I hate you so fucking much - ah!”
He silenced you by wrapping his lips around your clitoris and sucking hard, not giving you any chance to ease into this. You could feel him smirk into your cunt as he lapped up your juices, shaking his head and licking away until he was convinced you were seeing stars.
Your hands flew to his head, holding onto him as if you were about to float away. The pleasure was so overwhelming, and nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. Sexual pleasure of all types was a sin - and you had never indulged at all. You were too scared to. You were an adult, so sheltered about adult things you knew nothing of what your body could do. But now here you were, legs spread with the son of the anti-pope licking up your arousal like he was eating his first meal in days.
That same son was now inserting a finger inside of you again, tapping up and making you cry out. Your noises were uncontrollable and loud, but there was nothing you could do about it. Silence didn’t feel like an option. You needed to make noise and you couldn’t explain why. You gasped when he added a second finger. Your hips moved on their own accord and you bucked into the pleasure, simultaneously wanting to escape it but also get as close to it as physically possible.
“W-wait!” You said. Your words were slurred and your voice full of panic. “S-something’s happening. You - mmm - you have t-to stop please!”
He ignored you entirely, refusing to stop his ministrations no matter how much you squirmed. “Stop, y-you sack of sh-shit. Oh my God!” His other hand, somehow so powerful, stopped your hips from wriggling away and pinned you to the desk. You were helpless when you toppled over the edge, seeing black as you came for the first time. Secondo worked you until you were overstimulated and collapsed back onto the cold wood of the desk. Your body covered in sweat and your breathing laboured. Your head was spinning from the intensity and you could barely move.
Secondo stood, his hand on his crotch moving his cassock out the way to free himself. His cock was big, or to you it was anyway, girthy and as long as his hand. He gripped your hips and pulled you towards the edge, making sure you were easy access for him. He lined his cock up to your vulva once more, but instead of pushing inside he rubbed himself against your folds, groaning at the feel. “This is your last chance,” he told you, “tell me to leave and I will. If you don’t, I will sodomise this virgin cunt of yours.”
The feel of his cock against your folds was torturous. Your hole was clenching around nothing, screaming for him to enter you and have his way with you. There was a small voice in your head telling you to run, leave now while you still could. Your whimpers and the sound of your wetness was now the only noise in the room.
“What do you want, little lamb? Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
He stopped his ministrations and placed the head of his cock at your entrance and pushed in the smallest amount, not enough to completely penetrate you, but enough to drive you insane. “Tell me what you want.”
“F-fuck me.” The request tasted weird but you meant it.
Secondo nodded. He grabbed hold of your hand and held it. “Look at me.” He told you.
For a second, you looked vulnerable and it made his dick throb. You sat up and placed your hand on his chest, nervously pushing him away with no force. “Will it hurt?” You had always been told that it would hurt, and now you were scared you’d be in pain.
His own tough facade dissipated briefly, and the hand that wasn’t gripped in yours went to cup your face. “No.” He said gently. “You are wet enough and my fingers stretched you. But if it hurts too much you must tell me.”
You nodded.
With you now concentrating on him, he began to push into you. His thick cock spread your walls a little further than his fingers did, and the pressure was a lot. Both of your hands moved up to his neck, grasping onto him, as your eyebrows worried and your mouth fell open. Every time you thought he would stop he just kept going.
“You good?”
Your body was on fire. There were too many things to feel. “Yes. Oh God!”
The toughness returned to his demeanour and there was a dark glint in his eye. “Your god can’t help you now, little lamb.”
Before you had the chance to process his words, he pulled out of you and then slammed all the way back in, causing you to scream It felt Earth-shatteringly good to have him inside you. He did it again. And again. “You sadistic bastard!” You exclaimed in between moans.
He laughed but said nothing, instead concentrating his gaze on where your bodies met. Every rough thrust sent you a little further across the desk, and your back couldn’t remain upright. You allowed yourself to lie back down again, your body jiggling violently with every movement. You had to bite your finger to keep you from screaming again.
“Look at you,” Secondo began, “lying there with your - fuck - your legs spread like a c-common whore.” You tightened. “The whore likes being reminded of who she is, hm?”
His hips moved faster and faster as he got more into his head, watching your tits bounce as he defiled you.
“What’s the matter, little lamb? Devil steal that tongue? Mm, shit. No smart remark? Wh-where’s that snobby cunt who keeps telling me to repent now?” He pulled out of you and manhandled you off the desk, spinning you around and bending you over it slightly. He slammed into you once more. His hand wrapped around your throat. “Oh, that’s right, she’s booking herself a one way ticket to Hell.”
“Fuck you!” You hissed.
“Giving yourself willingly to the son of Satan. Oh, how the righteous fall from grace.”
His other hand ran seductively down your body, and as his teeth began to bite your ear, his finger stroked your clit in circles. His breath in your ear, his hand on your clit, his cock in your cunt, it was all too much. You were surrounded by him, breathing him. He was everywhere and difficult to escape. But you didn’t want to escape. This was the most free you’d ever felt, the best you’d ever felt. You came around his cock this time, tugging at his cassock and gasping for air, collapsing back onto the table.
In your mind, you saw the crucifix within your private quarters at the Vatican - the very same one that was gifted to you by the previous pope. You could see Jesus as if he were right in front of you. The look of disappointment present on his face as he watched you give into temptation and gift your most sacred gift to the Devil. The disappointment didn’t make you feel guilty for once in your life.
With that thought in your mind and the fog cleared, you began taking control, meeting Secondo’s thrusts with as much passion as he was giving which stole a guttural moan from him. “Oh, fuck, just like that. Let me fuck this tight, virgin cunt. Take my cock, you fucking whore.” Both of his hands grasped your hips with such tightness, you thought he would bruise you. “You’re gonna make me cum. Is that what you want, little lamb? Shit! You want me to cum deep in this cunt? Knock you up with the fucking Antichrist, hm?”
No. It was too risky. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Cum inside me. Give me your filth!” You heard yourself say.
With a growl, Secondo stilled and emptied himself into you, letting his own body fall forward and pin you down to the desk. You had no choice now, you were forced to take all his cum whether you wanted it or not. How would you beg for forgiveness now that the Devil’s seed was spilling into your willing womb?
Despite his exhaustion, Secondo dropped to his knees again and ran his tongue through your folds, collecting his cum from your pussy and working you towards your third and final orgasm. This was bordering on pain, but it felt so good. Your knuckles turned white from how hard you gripped the desk. Turning to look behind you, you saw him practically worshiping your cunt, and that alone was enough to tip you back over the edge.
When all had finished, and you were both redressing in silence, you realised the implications of what had just happened. You had committed the ultimate sin… and you didn’t want to go back…
Previous Day ⛧ Next Day ⛧ Part 2
#mel writes#kinktober 2023#ghost kinktober#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band#ghost the band#ghost fan fiction#ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus ii x reader#secondo#secondo x reader#secondo smut#papa secondo#papa secondo smut#papa ii#papa emeritus ii smut#papa emeritus smut
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