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writingjourney · 4 months

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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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megachaoticstupid · 3 months

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Earthly delights

Huge thank you's to @her-satanic-wiles for bearing with me when i whined to her about this fic, to @gothdaddyissues for the amazing and beautiful dividers and to @foxybouquet for her masterlist of all the phrases and terms of endearment spoken in Italian. I used a lot of them in my fic. Also, please be nice, english is not my first language, so typos and mistakes are inevitable. And, this is my first smut, so, i hope you all will enjoy it 😊 Secondo was always diligent when it came to his duties as the Papa of the Satanic church, and you always respected it. But, when you learnt that upon his return, he already burrowed himself in loads of work, you decided to help him to relax a little bit.

Tags: p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do this in real life), creampie, semi-public space (they are in his office), afab!reader, dry humping, fingering, fully clothed\fully naked sex, overall smut, usage of google translate in some places (two sentences) Words count: 4580

He sits in the quiet of his office having finally returned from his tour. Load of work piling up on his desk, reminding him of all of the months of his absence, making him grunt in displeasure and irritating him to no end. He did well on the tour, making the flock of his ministry grow considerably, improving what his brother did before him and now his reward is piles and piles of workload and the requirement to make a report on all of the money spent during his tour. He tuts. He really hates to work on his taxes, let alone to answer to Sister Imperatour about all of his spending habits.

His irritation is palpable when you walk in into his office, tray in your arms and a light, warm smile on your lips.

“Good evening, Papa” you say, walking closer to him

Secondo only grunts in return, scanning through the paper in from of him, reading glasses on the tip of his nose. He doesn’t even look at you, as you come closer and finally stand near him. On other days he wouldn’t even let you walk after his return from tour, catching up on all of the days he couldn’t kiss you, suck you, fuck you. But now all of that passion was given to his papers and, even though you have always respected his work, today you just can’t help it.

You set the tray right on his desk in the middle of his work. His favourite bucatini all'amatriciana and a cup of espresso were lovingly prepared by you and now waited for him to notice. Grabbing a comfortable chair near the window and dragging it to his desk, you sit down and just stare at him. He always loved to call you his kitten and now you decide to behave like one, sitting and looking at him, silently demanding his attention. After a few minutes of very uncomfortable silence, he breaks his focus and turns to you, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. His stern look softens for a minute and he looks at you lovingly

“Bambina, I am busy, what do you want?”

You smile at him, caressing his cheek with a free hand and say “For starters, I really want you to eat. Siblings told me that you haven’t yet”

There is a silence as he mules over your words and you can see stubbornness in his eyes. He looks tired, paints cracking at the corners of his eyes and mouth and there is a smudge at the bridge of his nose, where he, no doubt, pinched it, trying to compose himself or irritated at some reports and numbers. Secondo looks at you, catching your gaze and sighs, avoiding your words.

“You look really tired today, bambina. Did something happen? Has work been hard on you today?”

“I had to cover for two Siblings, they fell ill. And then I cooked something for the grumpiest papa in the world and now he refuses to eat.”

You sigh, obviously teasing him, edging slightly to make him feel guilty. And it works, his features soften, a shade of guilt crosses them and he says gently, taking the cup of espresso and removing his glasses.

“Mi scusi, gattina, you know how it is difficult for me to be cared for, si? Grazie, thank you. I really appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have worried about me, you better rest after the long day”

“And let my Papa sit here alone, angry and hungry?”

You tease him even more, trying to pry from him the needed reaction and finally you receive it. He rolls his eyes, takes the sip of espresso and grumbles approvingly, enjoying the bitter drink, made just the way he loves. Secondo looks at you and motions for you to come closer and sit on his lap and you oblige, seemingly happy to finally be with him after all of the long days and months apart. His arm snakes around your waist pulling you even closer to him, while he finishes his drink. Putting aside the cup, he looks at you with affection and cups your cheek, gently stroking tender skin under his gloved fingers.

“So, la mia gattina made all of this for her Papa, si? Mi scusi, I was too preoccupied with work, bambina. Let me finish it and I will eat it okay?”

He asks tenderly, reaching out for the papers, you sitting on his lap give him all the motivation in the world to finish the report. But you are not having it, frowning at him and taking his face in your hands

“If you will not eat right now, you will see all of your stupid papers on fire, hear me, love?”

At your little threat something quickly flashes in his eyes, his grip on your waist tightens. A smirk appears on his lips.

“Who would have thought that la mia gattina would become a fierce lioness, if I will not eat. Maybe, I should start starving myself to face your wrath more often, hm?’

He smiles at you teasingly and your cheeks flush. You know very well what happens when you show your temper. Your thighs tighten to give you some friction as you core becomes warmer. But it can wait. You sigh, look at him and turn to the plate on his table, gathering food on the fork and bringing it to his lips. Secondo doesn’t protest, obediently opening his mouth. You both continue this for some time in the quiet of his room, interrupted only by the fork clacking against the plate and the rustle of your habit, while his hands relearn the feel of your body. All of your curves and tender spots are gently teased and cupped by him, making you frustrated and wanting more with each second while his face remains stoic and uninterested. You know that this is all a play that will lead you to fun, so you ignore it, continuing your task.

When you are finished, he looks at your tenderly, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, work long forgotten in your presence:

“Thank you, gattino, it was delicious.”

He looks at you, as if you the only ever light in his life, as if he lives only for you, and you melt under his gaze. Tenderly, he cups your cheek and brush it, lovingly, gently. And then in a next second, Secondo kisses you, holding you as if in any minute you will disappear. His kisses are tender, growing hungry for you with every passing second. He licks you bottom lip and slightly bites it, asking for invitation you give so readily. Even if you both didn’t want things to escalate this quickly, your pent-up longing and love for each other, which only increased during all of those long days of not seeing each other, get the upper hand. And now your tongues swirl around each other, and you know that no desperate phone call cannot make up for the feeling of his arms around your body, while he devours you.

His hand plays with the hem of your habit, not sliding under it, but still teasing you, taunting even. He draws small circles on your soft thigh. A devilish smirk plays on his lips, while he watches you squirming in his lap, knowing well enough how he affects you. His other arm slips down from your face and now lightly cupping your breast, teasing tender nipples under all of the layers on you. Too much layers to his opinion. His lips leave yours, find your neck and start exploring tender skin underneath them, sucking it and sometimes nibbling on it, leaving a trail of small hickeys. You whimper at each nibble, his every caress setting your body on fire, throwing fuel to your never-ending desire for him.

As your cries for him get louder, he nudges you to move slightly and you obey quickly. Your back now is flush against his chest, thighs hanging on other sides of his legs, leaving your cunt fully open to his touch, save only for your underwear. You shudder in anticipation when he slides his gloved hand between your legs, chuckling when he hears a squelching sound against the leather.

“Sei così bagnata per me, bambina.” He cooes. “So ready for your Papa, eh?”

You only whine in response and buck your hips when he starts teasing your clit. The sight of you, so desperate for him and for his touch, boosts his ego. Secondo presses on your clit slightly harder, going in circular motions and ripping from you moan after moan. His other hand tugs at your habit, gently raising it and revealing your body inch after inch, pulling it over your head and discarding it somewhere on the floor of his office. The cool air makes you shiver and covers you in goosebumps, you feel how your nipples harden under your bra, both from arousal and cold air.

As soon as you are in your underwear, Secondo latches on your skin, leaving sloppy kisses along your shoulders, breathing in your sent and humming happily, finally feeling at home. You are his everything and finally you are once again in his arms and no thanks to him. Secondo feels the need to apologize and the only way for him to do that is to bring you a lot of pleasure. His hand is still on your clothed, soaked core, playing with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the sweet release. You haven’t seen him for so long, that now even this light foreplay can bring you to orgasm really fast. Your own hand flies to his over your mound, clutching it, not knowing whether you want him to stop or finish you off faster. Your nails are digging into the leather and drawing a hiss from his lips

“La mia gattina is that desperate already?” he purrs in your ear and then nibbles on your earlobe, drawing another loud whimper from you. “So desperate that she harms her poor Papa, who tries so much to please her? It hurts me so much, amore”

Secondo says in a mock worry and hurt, but you don’t answer, too caught up in the moment, whimpering for him. He tsks playfully and speeds up slightly while you buck your hips against his hand, trying to chase the pleasure. You feel him growing deliciously hard against the strains of his slacks underneath his papal robes. You feel bratty today, encouraged by his attention, so you decide to give him a little bit of friction. Still bucking your hips against his hand and you grind your ass on his hard cock. He groans. His grip on your waist gets tighter and then slides up to your breast, pulling up your bra and teasing your nipple, pinching it slightly, gently pulling on your breast. You cry out, fully resting against him, your head buried in his neck, as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

“Please, Papa, harder. I need it.”

You sound desperate enough to please him and he does just as you ask. Focusing fully on your clit with his thumb, he slides middle and forefinger to your entrance lightly nudging it and swiping your clothed folds. He sucks on the skin of your neck again and bites on it a little bit harder than before. And it was the push you needed, the knot in your stomach releasing and you cry out in pleasure, hips still bucking to prolong this chase and your head throwing further back to his shoulder in pure bliss. Secondo talks you through it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and kissing your neck tenderly.

As you calm down from your high, he helps you to get up slightly on your wobbly legs, pulling your underwear down your legs and sitting you back on his lap. Your breath hitches when skilled hand snakes to your entrance and stops here. He grunts and then pulls his hand to your mouth and whispers into your ear. His voice is laced with lust and temptation, making you think about the ancient serpent deceiver, holding up an apple for Eve

“Come on gattino, do what you always love to do. Bite”

And you do just like that, biting in the glove, feeling the taste of your own release on your tongue as he frees his hand. He takes it from your mouth, gently swiping a finger on your lips and reaches once again to your waiting core. You part your legs wider, resting one of the feet on his desk. Your core is dripping for him, previous orgasm makes your cunt gush your juices further down on his papal robes, making a mess out of him. And he loves it. You are a mess only because of him, whimpering and shaking for him, boosting his ego and making him feel the urge to praise you and feel the desire to prove his worth for you, to worship you. Gently opening your folds and gathering your slick on his finger, he brings it his mouth and hungrily licks it clean with a moan.

“Perfetta”

He hums, as you whine from the loss of contact. Secondo chuckles and kisses your neck soothingly.

“Patience, amore, I am starved”

He continues your torment, swiping your slick and pulling it into his mouth, as if he is dying of thirst and hunger, licking up his fingers clean just to dive down again and get another swipe. To him you are the most delicious and enticing dessert and he can’t get enough of it. All the while, you are a whimpering mess, sitting on his lap, with legs opened wide and grinding on his cock, trying to get back at him for teasing you so much. He humps on you back, moaning slightly, still cleaning you up with his fingers, his free hand rests on your waist and squeezes it slightly. And only after he feels that you are clean enough and ready for a second round, Secondo kisses your shoulder and gets closer to your entrance. You feel how he finally slides his middle finger inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around it and he starts moving.

He works you up perfectly, setting up a nice pace and you can’t help but moan louder and louder, the foot of his palm rubbing on your clit. The pain from the overstimulation brings you pleasure and makes you roll your eyes. You hiss, moving hips in rhythm with his hand. His office is filled with wet sounds, your moans and his grunts. This cacophony of sounds is so loud, that you are sure that if whoever decides to stand behind the door, would hear everything and it turns you on even more. You clench harder around his finger and he immediately adds another one, stretching you nicely, preparing you for him.

“So good for me, gattino, so fucking tight”

He cooes into your ear and continues his assault on your core. Your vision blurs from sensations, tears of pleasure are running down your face, smudging your mascara, leaving black traces on your cheeks. He takes you by the throat, dragging you closer to him, slightly choking you to heighten your pleasure. You whine, your orgasm building up faster than the previous one and you feel his third now finger inside of you, filling you up. Your nails dig into his arms and the back of his neck, trying to get him closer to you, as if you wanted to merge with him. Secondo nibbles on your earlobe slightly and whispers to you, ignoring slight pain

“Give me another one, amore. I want you to cum, please”

And you do that again, your body too pent up to disobey and tease him at this point. This orgasm hits you harder, making your legs shake and reaping out of you almost pornographic moans of pleasure. Your chest moves heavily, as you try to breathe deeper and slower, coming down from the high of the climax. Secondo holds you tenderly, leaving gentle kisses on your shoulders and face, drawing soothing circles on your skin to help you to calm down.

Once your senses return to you, you turn to him and bring his face closer to you in a lingering kiss, showing him how much you love him and how you missed him so. The remnants of his papal turn into a complete grey mess around his mouth. You break the kiss just to face him fully, straddling his hips and kissing him once again, more passionately. Now, you take the initiative in your hands, biting on his bottom lip, silently asking for him to open his mouth. Secondo moans, hands gripping your waist as he opens his mouth greeting your tongue with his. Your hands gently hold his face, brushing his cheeks and smudging the sides further. You know how much he hates wearing paints and smile into the kiss, knowing very well that he will grumble later reapplying his makeup. Your hands slide down to his shoulders and down his robes, tugging at the fabric and pulling it apart, fingers brushing against his white shirt. Breaking the kiss, your look at him, smiling with mock frustration.

“My Papa wears so many layers”

You pout and pull down his robes slowly, looking him in the eyes. Secondo doesn’t move, letting you do whatever you want with him, closing his beautiful mismatching eyes, when your fingers touch his neck accidently. You open his shirt button by button a bit hurriedly almost tearing them from the fabric, too greedy to tease him properly and rile him up. You lean down to him, kissing his neck, breathe in the scent of his perfume lingering on his skin and pulling down his shirt further. You see his chest, covered in hair, his soft tummy and strong arms and filled with such a relief of finally seeing him, with tenderness and deep love that you can’t help the tears to well up. Secondo’s face suddenly changes from pleased to concerned, hands cupping you face gently, wiping away few stray tears from your cheeks.

“Amore, what’s wrong? Was I rough to you?’

His voice is gentle, his expression soft and he is ready to stop if you are not in a mood anymore. But you place your hands upon his and shake your head, slightly embarrassed of your tears.

“Sorry, love, I am just so happy, that you are back. I missed you so much.”

“Ti amo, tesoro. Anche tu mi sei mancato e ti amo così tanto. Ringrazio Lucifero per ogni giorno che trascorri con me, separato o no”

He tells you back, feeling vulnerable and immediately switching to his mother tongue. You don’t understand all of which he is saying, but his tone and love in his eyes are enough for you to lean down on his forehead, hugging him close to you. Both of you stay still for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of your embrace.

As you calm down, Secondo starts peppering your face in small kisses: your eyes, cheeks, the tip of the nose – everything is paid attention to. Finally, he kisses your lips, showering you with his own feelings and a few pleased grunts, his thumb stroking your cheek as he does an you sigh contently, snuggling up to him. Your lips brush each other tenderly, lovingly, savouring the moment of intimacy. After several longing kisses, he parts with you, once again resting his forehead against yours, his arms are holding you close, making you feel safe and secure with him.

“We can stop-“ you don’t let him finish the sentence, placing your fingers upon his mouth and shaking your head.

“And leave you with a raging boner? I am not so cruel, love”

You chuckle, leaning to him and kissing him more passionately and he happily obliges, placing his hands on your hips and squeezing them. Your hands are on his chest, scratching lightly the skin under his fuzzy hair, earning his grunt of approval. Soft fingers tracing down his body, caressing the skin, following the happy trail and finally stopping the edge of his slacks. Now, you don’t hurry, relearning his body anew, all of his wrinkles, bumps and scars are newly etched into your memory, as you touch your lover, who does the same with you. I gently strip his from his shirt, while he unclasps your bra and put it away. With a slight tug his belt is unbuckled, the zipper and then slacks are pulled down enough to release his briefs his cock straining against the fabric, staining it with drops of precum.

You smile, a string of pride coursing through your body, even after several years together you still feel happy to see how much he wants you. Kissing him again, you palm him through the briefs, earning a hiss and a gentle slap on your ass from him. With a giggle, you free him from the restraints and pump him his several times, swiping the finger over the tip to gather his precum as a lube. He moans and hisses under you, gripping your thighs so hard, you are sure they will be bruised. You stop briefly and spit on your hand to lube him up perfectly without any pain.

As you pump him with one hand, you squeeze his balls slightly, timing your movements and look at him. Secondo looks deliciously sinful: eyes glazed with last as he looks at you and your body, drool gathering in the corner of his mouth, his bucking up so that he can get more pleasure and the most pleasant moans and grunts spilling from his lips. To him you look like the most seductive temptress, a succubus in the flesh sent by the Satan to reward or punish him, whichever you choose. Your hands continued to pump him, trailing down the whole length of the shaft, squeezing it the way he loves and leaving him desperate for more. You love how needy he looks, how he gropes your body wherever he can reach, leaving red marks from gripping your supple flesh too tight sometimes, overcome with sensations. You lean down and pepper his soft skin of the neck with kisses, sometimes sucking on it, leaving marks. Your lips are stained black from the papal paints. You feel the heat pulling once again in your core, making you even wetter for him.

He gets more needy under your touch, hips bucking into your palm, cock twitching and you know that he soon will reach the orgasm. Slowly, your hand stills on his length, reaping from him a grunt in protest and a heavy glare. You take his face in your hands, looking him in the eyes and move closer to him, so that his tip is close to your entrance. He eyes flicker from grumpiness to pure lust, as he holds you close, feeling your cunt dripping on his tip.

“Sei così bagnata per me” Secondo murmurs. “Senti che duro che sono per te. Ti voglio fottere”

He almost forces the words out of him, fighting the urge to kiss you and just pull you down on his cock. You smile at him, propping your hands on his shoulders, while he lines up himself with your entrance and pushes you down slowly, burying his face in your chest and moaning slightly. You moan with him, feeling his cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you, he stretches you out completely, making you feel excitingly full. As he bottoms out, you both stay still for a moment, adjusting to new sensations and after that you start rolling your hips. The tip of his cock hitting the sweet spot with every movement, your walls are tight against his girth, squeezing him and fluttering around him. Secondo rolls his hips in rhythm with yours, one of his hands snakes between you, rubbing your clit to bring you to orgasm, while he leans to your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on it.

“S-secondo!”

You whimper desperately, your head falls back and you fasten your movements. He grips your hips tightly, picking up almost a ruthless pace and helping you bounce on him, his thumb never leaving your clit, rubbing it in circles, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm. You feel him twitching inside of you, as he moans breathlessly under you, moving almost painfully hard and fast. The room is once again full of your moans and slaps of skin against skin. You lower abdomen tightens, as he switches your nipples, sucking on another, flicking his tongue on your sensitive bud. Your grip his shoulders tightly, digging nails in them and with a loud moan reach your climax. Your body shudders, back arching and your legs trembling, his hands supporting you, while he pumps his cock in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm almost to the point of overstimulation. You know that Secondo always needs a push, so you raise your head slightly and whisper into his ear:

“Please, Papa, fill me up. I want your cum so much.”

And these words finally push him over the edge. His hips startle, breaking the rhythm, and in two long strokes of his cock, he stills and spills inside of you, painting your walls white. You both sit still, catching your breathe and hugging each other in the bliss of an orgasm. You feel his dick softening inside of you and squirm slightly, both of you whimper too overstimulated. He stills your movements, tightening his grip on your hips and burrows his face in the crook of your neck

“Stay still, amore”

He murmurs, lips brushing on your skin and his arms snake around your waist to bring you closer to him, squeezing you like a stress toy. You sit comfortably in his arms, too fucked out to do anything else than let him stroke your hair and your back, soft praises leaving his lips and sloppy kisses left on your skin. Once you come to your senses, he helps you to dress up, making you look as proper as he can and then fixes his clothes as well. Pulling you into his lap, Secondo kisses you on the nose, smiling softly.

“Okay, gattina, I need to finish the report and after that, I am going to make sure you are not going to walk properly for two weeks. Deal?”

You smile at him back, making yourself comfortable in his lap and putting your head on his shoulder

“Sounds like a plan”

Translations from Italian:

Mi scusi – I am sorry

Gattina\La mia gattino – kitten\ my kitten

Grazie – thank you

Bambina – baby

Sei così bagnata per me, bambina. - So wet for me already, Bambina

Perfetta – perfect

Amore – love

Ti amo, tesoro. Anche tu mi sei mancato e ti amo così tanto. Ringrazio Lucifero per ogni giorno che trascorri con me, separato o no – I love you, my treasure. I missed you too and love you so much. I thank Lucifer for every day you spend with me, separated or not.

Sei così bagnata per me. Senti che duro che sono per te. Ti voglio fottere – You are so wet for me. Feel how hard I am for you. I want to fuck you.

#secondo x reader #secondo #papa emeterius ii #papa emeterius ii x reader #papa emeterius fanfiction #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #secondo smut #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost the band #papa emeritus ii smut

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bupia · 7 months

Note

Inexperienced smut #18 with Secondo??? That’s so Secondo coded omfg -Molly💜

GLOVE KINK

"I can't wait to take your innocence."

There's a smut bellow the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!Reader: fingering; oral sex)

Available on AO3

￩ Day 2 | Day 4 ￫

"Why are you acting so shy, now?" Secondo asked with a wicked smile. "You don't need to be shy for your Papa, come."

His extended hand was an invitation, and you hesitated for a moment. You had come to his office after mass with the intention of sharing how the sermon about lust had affected you. There was a part of you that thought it might be better to keep your thoughts to yourself, but you couldn't deny the desire for some attention from your Papa. After those exchanged glances in the chapel, it felt as if he was speaking directly to you every time he emphasized the importance of an orgasm.

"Come on, take my hand," Secondo urged with a gentle smile.

You followed his gaze to his gloved hand, and the thought of how tightly those gloves fit in his hands was strangely captivating. The sensation of the leather on your hand sent a shiver down your spine. Taking a deep breath, you reached for his hand, and a satisfied smile appeared on Secondo's face as he brought you closer to him.

"So what were you saying?" he inquired, his voice soft. "Was it about my sermon today, tesoro?"

"Y-Yes, it was," you admitted.

"And what about it?" Secondo inquired gently.

"I... I just think you were right," you said shyly, your words hesitant. "How we... we... need to..."

"Sì? Need what, tesoro?" Secondo asked, his curiosity drawing you closer to him.

As you took a step back, you realized how close you were to him, more so than you had expected. Your lower back bumped into his wooden table, and you suddenly felt trapped. You saw him getting closer, and conflicting emotions swirled within you. Part of you wanted to escape this situation, but another part wanted to stay, to explore this pull between you two, you wanted to test your limits, and his as well.

"How we need to... let ourselves reach the orgasm," you finally managed to say.

"Oh! sì, sì," Secondo nodded with a grin on his lips. "It's very important to reach the orgasm," he emphasized, his tone suggestive. "But tell me, have you?"

He moved closer, his hands resting on the edge of the wooden table, effectively keeping you trapped between his arms. He lowered his body, bringing his face dangerously close to yours.

"I... I... sometimes," you stammered, avoiding his intense gaze.

"No," Secondo said firmly. "When your Papa is talking to you, you look at your Papa."

You froze in your spot and slowly turned your eyes back to his. His smile and satisfaction were undeniable as he moved one of his hands to yours, caressing the back of it gently yet provocatively.

"So tell me, my innocente tesoro," he began, his hand trailing up your arm to your shoulder. "How do you reach your orgasm?" His words were laden with desire and curiosity.

"Alone," you replied quickly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Alone? Oh, my innocente tesoro," Secondo mused, his hand moving from your shoulder to cup your cheek gently. "You've never reached the orgasm with anyone before?"

Your cheeks burned even brighter with his question, the overwhelming sensation of having him so close and touching you making your heart race. You shook your head in the negative, unable to meet his intense gaze.

"Normally, I don't indulge in such matters after my sermons," he confessed, his hand still cradling your face as he drew you closer to him. "But I couldn't resist your innocent and curious look as I spoke in the chapel. And now, with you sharing this with me, I can understand why your eyes shone so brightly when you heard me speak," he said, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"W-What are you talking about?" you stammered, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nervousness.

"What I'm saying," Secondo explained, his hand removing from your face, "is that you, tesoro, if you allow me, I would like to give a little sermon for you tonight."

You bit your lip as you watched him carefully remove his Papal robes, placing them on a nearby chair. Your eyes trailed his body, lingering on the shirt he wore, which clung to him in a way that left little to the imagination.

"So? What do you say?" he asked with a seductive grin.

"I'd love to," you replied, your desire and anticipation growing.

"Molto bene," Secondo purred with satisfaction. "Now, take a seat on the table."

With a sense of anticipation and excitement, you followed his command and perched yourself on the edge of the table, ready for the intriguing "sermon" he had in store for you.

"Now lift your habit for me and leave your feet on the edge of the table," he commanded.

With Secondo's command, you felt your heart race, and a flush of anticipation washed over you. You obediently lifted your habit, revealing your legs, and left your feet on the edge of the table, eagerly awaiting his next move.

"Spread your legs, let me see you."

You nodded in compliance, your breath quickening as Secondo's hands reached for your calves, his touch sending shivers up your spine. As he caressed your legs, he issued his next command, and you obeyed without hesitation, spreading your legs to reveal your underwear.

His gaze was fixated on you, and you could see the desire in his eyes intensify as he watched you carry out his every command. He smiled, and continued his gentle massage of your legs, working his way up to your thighs. His hands slowly moved higher, until they were just above your underwear, where he stopped. Your breathing became labored, and you felt your face blush with embarrassment as you continued to spread your legs further apart.

"Now, slowly pull down your underwear," he ordered.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached down and pulled your underwear off your legs. Secondo's gaze remained fixed on you, watching intently as you revealed your nakedness to him. He smiled at you, his eyes burning into yours, and you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as you saw his hungry gaze devour you.

"Molto bene," he said, his voice deep and husky.

Secondo's hands reached for your hips, and he gently pulled you closer to him. His lips brushed against yours, and you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you felt his tongue enter your mouth. The kiss was intense, and you felt your arousal growing as his tongue explored your mouth.

Secondo broke the kiss and leaned back from you, looking deep into your eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt. You stared back at him, transfixed by the sight of his bare chest. Secondo's chest was hairy, and you could see the muscles ripple as he moved.

"Open your legs wider," he instructed.

You did so, and Secondo ran his fingers along your inner thighs, brushing against your folds. You moaned as you felt his fingers brush against your sensitive flesh, and you felt your body tense.

"I can't wait to take your innocence," he whispered.

As Secondo withdrew his hand from between your legs and began to lick his finger, you watched with bated breath, feeling the tension in the room grow. He then bit the tip of his glove, starting to remove it, but an impulsive urge overcame you, and you reached for his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"What is the problem, tesoro?" he inquired, his voice laced with intrigue.

You couldn't utter a word, the realization of what you had just done sinking in. His eyes locked onto yours, and he seemed to understand the nature of your action.

A big, wicked grin spread across his lips as he spoke, "Perhaps you're not too innocent."

Secondo's fingers found their way back to your wetness, and he began to rub your clit, the sensation of the leather was too overwhelming. Your breathing grew more rapid, and you moaned softly as Secondo's fingers massaged your sensitive nub.

"You're so wet already, tesoro," he whispered. "It looks delicious."

You felt your juices flow, and you moaned as you felt his finger slip inside you. Secondo pushed his finger deeper inside you, and you groaned as you felt it fill you. The leather only adding some more friction. Secondo removed his finger, and you felt empty, but not wanting to disappoint him, you spread your legs wide open, offering yourself to him. Secondo grinned at you, and then licked his finger clean.

"What is the problem, tesoro?" he inquired, replacing his finger with his thumb.

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan as he slid his thumb deep inside you. "N- Nothing..."

"Nothing? Are you sure?" he inquired, teasingly.

"Y-Yes..."

"If it's nothing, I guess it's time for me to worship you now, tesoro," Secondo said, and you nodded in agreement.

Secondo kissed you again, and this time, he pushed his tongue deep inside your mouth. You moaned, and your hips bucked involuntarily as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. Secondo broke the kiss, and you looked into his eyes, watching as he lowered himself to his knees. Secondo stared at you, his eyes burning with desire as he lowered his head between your legs. Secondo's tongue flicked across your clit, and you gasped as he sent shivers up your spine.

"Ah! Pa- Pap-Ah!" you whimpered.

Secondo's tongue moved back and forth across your clit, and you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue massage your clit. His tongue moved faster, and you cried out.

Secondo's tongue found its way to your entrance, and you moaned as he lapped at your juices. Secondo's tongue worked its magic on you. His tongue moved faster, licking, his tongue exploring your depths, and you moaned loudly as his tongue probed you.

"Oh, Papa... Papa... this is so good," you moaned, your hands grabbing the edge of the table in a firm grip.

Secondo pulled back his head from between your legs, licking his lips. "Is it? I'm glad to hear that, tesoro, Papa only wants to make you feel good."

Secondo inserted two fingers inside you, and you moaned louder as you felt them fill you. He began to thrust his fingers inside you, and you moaned as you felt his fingers begin to massage your spot. He lowered his head again and began to suck your clit, and you cried out as he sucked hard. Secondo's tongue and fingers worked together, faster and harder.

"Oh! Satan!" you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. "Fuck! Fuck me, Papa, yes!"

"What a sinful mouth you have, tesoro," he said, grinning mischievously. "It makes your Papa very proud."

Secondo removed his fingers, flicking your clit rapidly. He licked from your clit to your entrance, replacing his them with his tongue. He darted in and out of you, and you screamed, grinding your hips against his face.

"This is too much, I ca... I can't... I can't take it any longer, Papa," you moaned, breathless.

"Do you want to cum for your Papa, tesoro?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

"Yes, Papa! I want to cum," you whined.

"Where do you want to cum?" he inquired.

"O- On your mouth, P-Papa," you stammered.

"I'm afraid that this is not the correct answer, tesoro, sì?"

Secondo grinned, and then leaned forward. His tongue touched your flesh, and you gasped as you felt him begin to probe your wetness. He raised his hand, and you gasped as he slapped your core slightly.

"Ah!" you let out a loud moan.

Secondo smiled, and then raised his hand again. You cried out as his hand slapped slightly your core again. "Tell me once again, what do you want, tesoro?"

"I... I want to cum on your fingers, Papa," you said, feeling your legs shaking.

"Do you want to cum on my fingers?" he asked, murmuring. "Do you want to leave your scent on my gloves, tesoro?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Secondo rubbed your entrance, and then slipped two fingers inside you. He began to thrust you with his fingers, and you moaned as you felt his fingers invade your depths. He slid his fingers in and out of you, and you moaned louder as you felt him rub your spot.

"Cum for your, Papa," he demanded. "Give me your orgasm, tesoro, give it to me."

Secondo leaned forward, and you felt his hot breath on your wetness. His tongue traced a line along your slit, and then flicked over your clit. His tongue was so hot, and you moaned as his tongue danced across your clit. You felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

"Yes, Pa-Papa! I will, it's all yours, all for you!"

Secondo's tongue flicked back and forth across your clit, and you cried out as you felt your orgasm building. His tongue continued to dance across your clit, and you felt your orgasm approaching. He flickered faster and faster across your clit, until tongue slowed, and then stopped.

Secondo looked up at you, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Cum for me, my innocente temptation," he growled.

His fingers pumped faster in and out of your entrance as you, and you cried out as your orgasm exploded through your body. Secondo's fingers pumped slowly in and out of your entrance as you came, and grinned at you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you groaned as you felt empty. His fingers were coated with your juices, and he brought them to your mouth. He pushed his fingers deep into your mouth, and you sucked your own juices off of them. Secondo lapped up your juices hungrily, and you groaned in pleasure.

"You came so good for me, tesoro," he praised you. "And you taste so delicious, sì?"

"T- Thank you, Papa..." you said breathless. "Thank you for my sermon."

You moved to get up from the table, your legs shaking. But as you did, Secondo also stood up. Your eyes remained fixed on him, anticipation swirling between you. He unzipped his pants, and unbuckled his belt, and you watched as he slid his pants down his legs, revealing his thick member.

"Who told you your sermon is over, tesoro?" Secondo's voice was low and filled with desire. "Go back to the table, is time for me to teach you how to come as one."

#kinktober #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa emeritus x reader #ghost the band #secondo smut #secondo #papa emeritus secondo #papa secondo #secondo ghost #secondo x reader #smut #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii

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leezlelatch · 9 months

Text

Bite

18+ MDNI

Secondo x F!Reader - p in v, praise, explicit descriptions, dom!Secondo, maybe kind of spit kink, biting, blood kink

Short smut dedicated to my and Secondo’s beloved @writingjourney. May his teef always find you.

“Very good, falenina. Brava ragazza. That’s it,” Secondo coos in your ear, his tone low and breathy as you rock against him. His hands curl under your buttocks, pulling you even closer, impaling you on his aching cock over and over again. You pant, little puffs of air through each cry of pleasure that curls through your cunt and up your belly, a coil ready to snap at any moment.

“Your Papa is so proud of you. You take him so well. The only one,” he continues, his lips kissing a trail from your shoulder to your neck. “Harder now, sì?”

He bucks his hips in time with your roll, his large hands anchoring your body as he fucks you, feet planted firmly on the bed as he pistons into you. His eyes shine with a carnal ferocity as he watches your face, your mouth hanging open and eyes closed, unable to control the feral sounds leaving your mouth.

“You look at your Papa when he fucks you,” Secondo demands.

Your eyes snap toward his and he growls his approval, a hand cupping your neck to pull your face down to his. He bites your bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth with his tongue, sucking on it until it’s swollen and slick with his spit. That hand on your neck slides up to your hair, gripping it. He presses his forehead into yours, his own animalistic sounds mixing with moans.

The room is filled with the slick sound of his cock pounding into your drenched pussy, and Secondo’s hips stutter, uneven and desperate as you grip him with the force of your orgasm, a choked sound leaving his lips. You spasm around his cock, keening, and all he does is flip you on your back, continuing his delicious assault against your insides.

“Another,” he hisses, lips attaching to your neck once more. “Cum for your Papa. Cum for me.”

His words cut off and he groans, bracketing you between his arms as his hips slam into yours.

“Cazzo…I can’t,” he whimpers now, eyebrows furrowing as he closes his eyes. “I can’t hold it. Amore…”

His legs shake, his body growing heavier on you as he loses momentum, so close to his own orgasm. It makes you wantonly cry out his name.

Secondo’s eyes snap open and he gazes into your ruined face as he snaps his hips a final time, deep and searching. His head drops, teeth finding the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

And he bites.

Bites hard enough you screech as you feel his hot seed fill your quivering pussy, and the warmth of your blood on your neck. Secondo’s scream is muffled by your skin, his body convulsing in his ecstasy before he collapses on top of you.

It’s quiet after. Your shared labored breathing is the only noise. Little aftershocks race through your body, and Secondo gasps as you flutter around his softening member.

He slowly lifts his head, licking a stripe from your chest to the bite, savoring the coppery taste of your blood.

“Sometimes you make me think those rumors about you being a vampire are true,” you say in a hoarse voice, a smile on your lips as you wrap your arms around his heated body.

Secondo chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to his bite. “If only I had the supernatural strength to go with it. I’ll need the heating pad tonight.”

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #mdni #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii smut #female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #secondo emeritus #secondo smut #secondo x reader #secondo x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction

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kissingghouls · 3 months

Text

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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theratboyking · 8 months

Text

Nocturnal Me (Part 2 to Forever Yours)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus ii/Reader, Vampire!Secondo/Reader

Word count: 4.5K

Summary: Secondo was convinced that the only sanctuary he would ever know was in your embrace. The only grace he would be allowed in this world was with you. He could spend hours here, silently praying to the temple that is your body, hands exploring every nook and cranny, every perfect imperfection he could find. He relished in it, took pride in every shutter, every moan he could manage to get out of you.

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Like seriously MDI, violence, Blood, Fluff, LIke major Fluff, sub!reader, dom!Secondo, PnV, Possesive!Secondo, Death

Master list Part One Ao3 Link

“You’re a devil.” The melody of your laugh reaches Secondo’s ears, only spurring his attack on your neck even further. The feather-like kisses tickling you only draw out more of the song. It was a sound Secondo had decided he would never get tired of.

Biting down slightly, sure to leave a mark in its wake, a moan escapes you. You could feel the smug bastard smirk around you from the reaction he was garnering, “I think you love it, La mia stella.”

He pulled away slightly, his mismatched gaze snapped up to look at your face. The milky light of the moon bathed the room in a soft glow. Casting shadows along your face, framing you in such a way that Secondo was almost convinced he had dreamed you. In the months since that fateful night, he had found himself caught in your embrace ever since. He found himself clinging to it like a man lost at sea.

In his many lifetimes, he doesn’t think he had ever been in love. Sure, he has had his share of lovers–a string of broken hearts he has left behind, but none of them compared to you. You had managed to find your way into his cold heart, lifting a weight off of him he had carried for hundreds of years. Secondo almost couldn’t recognize the man he had turned into.

Hell, even his brothers noticed. You had turned him into a sap, as Terzo had so graciously told him one night, Primo chiming in to say how it looked good on him. Copia was the only one to come to his defense, but even he had said how he wore it well. Despite all the teasing, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He thanked Satan himself for giving him you, his lips once again connecting against yours for what would be the millionth time that night—slowly making his way back down to your neck, determined to get more of the sweet melody out of you. He couldn’t help himself. You simply demand his attention. Letting out a soft chuckle as you weakly protest.

“I’m sleepy, love.” You mumbled, letting out a small moan as his sharp canines brushed against your windpipe.

“Too tired for me, amore?” He questions, pulling himself from your neck to look into your eyes, “Are you already ready to send me away for the night?” He teases, already knowing the answer.

You softly laughed, “How could I ever send you away? If it were up to me, I would keep you forever.” A sigh escaped you as you longingly smiled down at him. He pulled away from you, his eyes practically glowing in the dark room as he stared down at you.

It was quiet for a long moment, your love looking deep in thought. Secondo couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it. He’s been thinking about it since the first night he found himself in your embrace. The idea of losing you had plagued his mind since that attack. Forever was a long time, but if it's with you, he couldn’t help but long for it.

Just before you could question what was wrong, before Secondo could stop himself, he whispered, “What if you could?”

The question hung heavy in the air. For the first time in a long while, Secondo was scared. What if you said no? But then again, what if you said yes? The rejection scared him, yes, but the fear that you would come to hate him for cursing you with this life scared him even more. Although losing you to the hands of time scared him most of all, it tore him up inside. He looked down at you, eyes wide, and despite his better judgment, held hope behind them.

You stared up at him, a look of shock and uncertainty clouding your features. “What do you mean?”

Swallowing what little saliva was in his mouth, he decided to continue. “You could have it if you want it.” He looked down at you, drawing you closer into his grasp, scared that you would vanish if he let go, “If you asked it of me, I would give you forever.” Despite his fear, there was a touch of hope behind his offer.

You look up at him, the weight of his offer heavy on your mind. It’s not like you would be leaving much behind. You wouldn’t be leaving behind any family; most of them were either dead or had no contact with you. The friends you did have would probably not even notice you were gone. The only thing you had going for you was your job at the station, but even that was starting to run its course.

You had daydreamed about this conversation a million times by now but never really let it past more than that. Sure, you had imagined what a life with him would be like, to find yourself safe in his embrace for the rest of your days. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, scared to get your heart broken. Thinking that, at some point, the love you both had for each other would eventually end. But here he was offering it to you. Offering you eternity, you could feel your heart swell with more love for the man before you, if that was even possible.

Doubt started to cross Secondo’s mind, and he looked away from you. He was asking too much of you. “I’m sorry, forget I said anyt-...”

“Yes.” You cut him off, no hesitation behind your answer.

“Amore, are you certi-…”

“Yes.” You repeated yourself, more forceful this time. “Of course, silly.” You let out an airy laugh.

He looked at you in wonder, something he could not quite place swelling in his chest. “Forever is a long time, La mia stella.” He whispered, a smile starting to form on his face, one that he only seemed to reserve for you.

“But it’s forever with you.” You caress his face, looking back at him with conviction, trying to convey everything you couldn't find the words to say.

He searched your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation. He was only met with what he could only describe as love and adoration. He was sure that if his heart could beat, it would have skipped a beat. The distance between you both closes as his lips reach yours once more. Getting lost in each other.

Pulling away, you rest your head on his, trying to catch your breath. He was smiling more than he had in years; it was silently saved for you. Secondo could hear your heart rapidly beating. You didn’t need to say anything, neither did he. There was an understanding between both of you.

“You’re going to have to tell your brothers, my love.” You whisper, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy about it. They already consider you a part of the family.”

“Let me rephrase; you’ll have to tell Terzo.”

You feel him tense under you as he lets out a groan. “We could just run away, amore.”

“With you, I would go anywhere.” You pause, “I’m going to have to quit my job, aren’t I?”

“Afraid so.” He looks away for a moment. “There are many things that will have to change, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Promise me something?” You bring your hand to his face.

Relaxing into your palm, he returns his gaze to you, “Of course.”

“Promise you will not leave my side.”

His eyes soften then, a small smile making its way to his face, “I have lived many lifetimes, amore mia. I have seen entire empires rise and fall before my very eyes. I have never been really sure of anything, but I do know one thing for sure. I love you more than the sun loves the moon, more than a bird loves the sky. For as long as you will have me, for as long as you will allow me by your side, that is where I will stay.”

There were tears forming in your eyes. This was the first time he had actually said he loved you. It was always implied in his actions; he never really had to say it, but now that he had, it was almost impossible to keep your emotions at bay. “I love you too.” He pulled you closer in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious treasure in the world. In his arms, you couldn’t help but feel like you were.

The rest of the night and most of the early morning was spent between two lovers making plans for the future. What to expect, what you would have to do. To say you weren’t scared would be a lie. The whole thing was terrifying, but you were doing it with him. As long as you were in his arms, you could face whatever the world threw at you. Together.

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

You both had decided on a night in June. That would be the day you would end your mortal life in turn for an immortal one. The date couldn’t seem to come fast enough. You missed him, if you were being honest. Your love has been busy getting everything ready for your arrival. To be honest, you were no better, also busy trying to get everything sorted out before you embarked on your immortal life. You had all your affairs in order, had quit your job, and resigned from classes. As far as your friends were aware, you were moving away. Most of your things had either been sold or put into boxes awaiting transfer to Secondo’s place, and the lease on your apartment ended that Monday.

The plan was simple, really. You would meet Secondo at your former apartment. From there, you would go to his place. After you were somewhat settled in, you would begin your immortal life with Secondo by your side.

To say you weren’t at least a little nervous would be an understatement, but there was still excitement behind it. The walk home from your last show was filled with silence. You were positive that whatever went bump in the night could probably hear your heart hammering in your chest. The building seemed to blur together as you hastily made your way back to your former home, excited to finally be reunited with your lover.

As you rounded the corner that led to your apartment, you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as you noticed the prominent, shadowy figure standing in front of your doorway. Picking up your pace, you hastily make your way towards him. He looked as if he was dressed up for the occasion. A smile made its way to Secondo’s face when he noticed your presence.

“Are you ready, amore mia?” He questioned, reaching out his hand for you to take.

Nodding your head, taking his hand. “Lead the way, lover boy.” you teased.

The walk to his place was relatively calm, small talk between you both taking up most of the time. Secondo seemed just as excited as you were; he just did better at hiding it. The only thing that gave him away was the small smile that didn’t seem to want to leave his face. The further away from your old apartment you got, the more your excitement grew.

This would be the first time you have ever been to his apartment before. Usually, you and he would spend time at your place, or he would usually sneak into the station and keep you company while you worked. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Especially as the buildings slowly turned into the more upscale part of town.

Suddenly he stopped, turning into a rather large modern-looking building. You let out a small gasp as you took in the lobby; everything was upscale, a total far cry from what your old building looked like.

“Mr. Emeritus.” The man at the desk tipped his hat toward Secondo as you both passed.

Finally reaching the elevator, you watch as he clicks the button to the top floor– punching in a code finally sends the machine upwards. You held your breath, taking it all in. Despite everything that had happened in the past months, you couldn't help but feel like you were dreaming.

The elevator opened, revealing what you could only assume was his apartment. Ok, maybe you really were dreaming. The room was dark when you entered. Black-out curtains were hung, keeping even the moonlight out. His place was just how you expected it to be. High ceilings and wooden floors only served to cause an echo as you and Secondo walked in. The room was decorated in dark wood with accents of emerald green thrown in. Everything about the room screamed Secondo.

He paused in the doorway, observing you as you took in his living room, “What do you think?”

“I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting from you.” you let out a laugh, “But I believe you have been keeping secrets from me, my love.”

“Whatever could you mean, amore?” He teases, rushing to your side, picking you up bridal style.

It was hard to make out much else as he carried you off to what you could only assume could be his bedroom. Your laughter mixes together, bouncing off the walls to create a melody that has never been heard before in the flat. He only placed you down when he reached a door at the end of the hall, opening it and allowing you entry.

His bedroom was just as extravagant as the rest of his house. The curtains were drawn, allowing for some light to be cast in. A fireplace sitting on the far wall that looked like a balcony, a small fire crackling with life. A large four-post bed sat in the middle of the room, and a canopy wrapped around shielding the inside–the sheets were a deep emerald color. The whole room screamed luxury.

Taking in the room around you, mouth agape in wonder, you didn’t notice Secondo coming up behind you, pulling you into his chest. Turning you so that you were facing him, “Are you ready?” He questioned, a reassuring smile gracing his features.

A wave of emotions hits you all at once. It was time. You were going to be giving up your current life for one with him. To say you weren’t a little scared would be a flat-out lie. You were nervous beyond belief, not of giving up your mortal life for an immortal one but rather the process of it. From what you were told, it wasn’t exactly painless…

When you didn’t answer at first, Secondo pulled away slightly, “What’s wrong, mia amata?”

“Nothing is wrong, my love.” You had a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Secondo sighs, taking you into his arms. His grip on you was tight but offered you some sort of comfort. “If you’ve changed your mind, that’s also ok. You’re still more than welcome to move in, and I’ll stay by your side as long as yo-…”

You cut off his rambling, quick to reassure him. “No, no, nothing like that, my love. I’m just nervous, is all. I can’t imagine that this won’t hurt.” You whisper the last part, looking away.

“I can’t say it will be pleasant, but I promise to make this as painless as possible.” He looked down at you. Bringing your face so that you were looking at him, his eyes piercing into yours, trying to convey to you that he meant every word he was saying.

“I trust you, Matteo,” You whisper, caressing his face.

Relaxing into your touch, “We can go slow, luce stellare.”

“Just kiss me, please.” You pled with him.

He didn’t need much convincing, closing the distance between you both. Swallowing your small body within his much larger one. The kiss was slow– as much as he trusted you, Secondo couldn’t help but fear that you would change your mind at any given moment. The kiss wasn’t just trying to calm you down but also him.

Deep down, he knew you wouldn’t. He knew you were his for the rest of his eternal life. Slowly, it started to get more intense, more needy. Guiding you backward til you felt yourself collide with the foot of the bed. Secondo catches you, slowly pushing you down onto the bed. You fall back with a soft umh. You looked up at him. Your hands fly up to pull him to you, lips searching for his in the room's darkness. Your hands find themselves at the base of his shirt, pulling it up. Trying your best to undo the buttons before finally throwing it somewhere in the room.

Yours wasn’t far behind, bra coming undone at an inhuman speed, ripping it from your body in a mess of fabric, “Hey!” you protest, “I liked that one.”

Looking down at you, Secondo couldn’t help but pause–taking you in as if it were the first time. Your eyes were blown wide with lust and love. Chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. You truly were breathtaking; you made his heart stop every time you allowed him to have you. He couldn’t believe that he got to call you his.

“I’ll get you another one, amore.” His eyes practically glowed as he looked down at you with nothing but love and a hint of mischief.

Slowing down, he found his way to your neck. Kissing and biting at your sweet spot, enjoying every sound he could get out of you. Making his way down your body, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, his sharp fangs threatening to break the skin. Letting out a whine, you could feel him form a smirk.

He knew your body like the back of his hand, knew the exact spots to get you to be absolute putty in his hands. He would take his time tonight, savor everything he possibly could. You had offered him a gift he would never be able to repay, but he would spend the rest of his immortal life trying to repay you for it. He would worship every inch of you, hoping he could convey to you just how much he loved you.

He let out a satisfied hum as he finally reached his destination. Slowly pulling your panties down your legs, exposing you to him. Secondo looks up at you, watching you wither underneath him. Watching as your chest rises and falls, your heartbeat picking up from the anticipation.

“Please. Need you,” You whine, desperate for some sort of release. Finally, he took pity on you, mouth enclosing around your sex. Savoring the sweet cry you let out, enjoying the taste of you. There was nothing quite like you, he was convinced. Letting out a groan of his own.

Your legs were wrapped around his head, keeping him in place. If he needed oxygen, you were convinced he would have suffocated by now. He worked his tongue over the bundle of nerves, sliding his hand down your body until he found your entrance. Groaning as he felt how wet you were, two of his fingers gliding into you with ease, setting a steady pace.

Secondo was convinced that the only sanctuary he would ever know was in your embrace. The only grace he would be allowed in this world was with you. He could spend hours here, silently praying to the temple that is your body, hands exploring every nook and cranny, every perfect imperfection he could find. He relished in it, took pride in every shutter, every moan he could manage to get out of you.

Curling his fingers, he finally reached the spot that would make you see stars, “Fuck” a drawn-out cry leaves you.

You could feel the familiar coil forming in your stomach. You were close, and he knew it. He was doing everything in his power to get you to that point. He knew just what to do, just how to curl his fingers, just how to move his tongue. He knew just what to do to make you see stars and fuck if he wasn't exceptional at it.

“Cum for me, cara.” He growls, sending vibrations down your spine. Pushing you over the edge.

Letting out a satisfied hum, he finally moves from his spot with a pop. Making his way back up your body, kissing your exposed skin. Finally reaching his mark on your lips, capturing you in a long, heated kiss. His tongue finds dominance over your own. You could taste yourself on his breath, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The friction on his pants over your naked flesh causes you to shutter. Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling to get his pants off of him. He pulled away from you, only enough to rid himself of the fabrics. His cock springs to attention, hitting his abdomen. Secondo finds his way back to your lips, rutting against you.

“Are you ready, tesoro?” Secondo asks, sliding his cock over your folds, coating himself in your juices. Hitting your overstimulated clit a couple of times for good measure.

“No more teasing.” You plead, “Need you.”

“Making demands, are we?” he tuts, an evil smile forming, pushing the tip at your entrance. “Who am I to deny anything that la mia principessa wants.”

With that, he slammed into you. Crying out, mouth hung wide open, eyes rolling back in your head. Secondo looked down at you, his eyes practically glowing, taking you in. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size. This was a sight he never got tired of, seeing you cock drunk and wanting more. He couldn’t want to no longer need to hold back, to give you everything he had. Slowly, he pulled out before plugging back in, setting a steady pace.

He simply adores seeing you like this. The way your mouth hung open as needy whines left your sweet lips. The way your tits bounce oh so delicately as he pistons into you. The pleasant burn of your nails clawing at his back as you hold on for dear life. You grip onto him like he is the only thing in the world keeping you from floating away.

He brings one of his arms from caging you in favor of playing with your tits. Pinching and pulling at your nipples. The other he brings to your hips, pulling you forward to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck.” Your voice trembled as he hit just the right spot.

“Just like that, cara mia. So good.” It was a low rumble in his chest, “Always so good for me.” He was picking up speed, driving his point home. He brings his hand forward, closing around your throat.

He growls as you tighten around him. You were close and he could tell. It only served to spur him on, determined to get you to cum again, to make you forget all your worries, just to focus on the pleasure that only he could bring you. You belonged with him; his heart was yours and would be forever more.

“Who do you belong to?” His grip on you tightened

“I’m yours, S-secondo. Fuck.”

“That’s right, and after tonight, you’ll be mine forever.” He growled, slowing his thrust ever so slightly, “You want that, don't you, Amore mia?”

All you could do was nod your head, so close to falling over the edge.

“Words, amore, I need your words,” Secondo commanded.

“Yes, my heart is yours, my love.”

“Good girl.” His motions were starting to stutter. “I’m close stella. I can feel you are as well. Cum for me, please, cum all over my cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, cumming with a shout, holding him in a vice grip. Secondo was not far behind you, giving a few more powerful thrusts before spilling his load out inside you. He stayed like that for a long moment, allowing you to catch your breath. The only sound that filled the room was labored breathing. Secondo only looked on, watching you, his emotions hitting a high, and he knew he could no longer wait.

“Stella, I need you to tell me this is what you want.” Secondo pants, shuttering from the feeling of you wrapped around his cock. “This is what you want, SÌ?”

“Yes,” You whisper, “I’m ready, my love.”

With a growl, he pulled out–teeth lodging themselves in your neck. He showed little restain as he lapped up your sweetness. Letting out a gasp, you could feel the life leaving you as he drank from you. Your limbs going lip and your eyes going heavy. You didn’t even feel him pull away.

“Drink.” He commanded, bringing his exposed wrist to your lips.

With the little life you had left, hesitating, you drink from him. The warm liquid dripping down your throat tasted of iron at first; slowly, it came to life, dancing across your taste buds, becoming the sweetest thing you have ever tasted in your life. You could feel your strength coming back to you. Gripping onto him like he was your lifeline.

“Amore, slow down.” He breathes out, a grimace making its way onto his face, “Amore, stop.” Your grip on him only tightened, “Enough.” He breaks free.

From your place on the bed, you convolve. You expected the pain; in fact, that was the first thing he warned you about, but this was excruciating. It felt as if every cell in your body was combusting into flame. You were dying and being reborn all at once. You almost could comprehend it. Letting out a scream, all Secondo could do was sit there helplessly as the transformation overtook him.

Suddenly, you stopped all movement; Secondo could do nothing but look on. Worry started to overtake him. What if it didn't take? What would he do without you if it didn't work?

“Amore?” Worry was evident in his voice as he could do nothing but look at your lifeless form, only relaxing slightly as your eyes flew open with a gasp.

Slowly, you sit up, letting out a groan as you look around. The whole room was impossibly bright; everything was loud. Everything was too much. It was hard to focus on much of anything except the burning need to feed that was developing in you. There was a burning feeling in your stomach. You were hungry. More hungry than you had ever been in your life.

Turning your head so that you were facing your love, “I want some more.” You flash him a smile, your newly formed fangs on full display.

A fond smile makes its way to his face as he reaches out his hand for you to take, “That I can help with, amora mia”

Looking at him for a moment, you blink, focusing in on him. Your smile only widens.

You take his hand.

Translations:

La mia stella- My star

Amore- Love

luce stellare- Starlight

Tesoro- Treasure

la mia principessa- My princess

Stella- Star

mia amata- my beloved

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #vampire secondo #papa emeritus x reader #the band ghost x reader

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ghulehunknown · 6 months

Text

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)

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molly-ghuleh · 4 months

Text

Ungrumpify Your Papa: Papa Emeritus II x afab!reader

Summary: It's your first holiday season with Secondo and you're determined to make him less of a grump.

Words: 6.9k (nice)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!, reader is AFAB but there are no gendered words/pronouns, smut, fluff, lingerie, light dom!Secondo, teasing, brief mentions of overstimulation, holiday feelings, discussions of religion

AO3

A/N: Happy day 2 of the XXXMas at the Ministry series! Check out day 1 with Primo by @copias-sewer-rat in the links below, and stay tuned for day 3 with Terzo by @ghulehunknown and day 4 with Copia by @bupia (who also put together these incredible graphics)!!

Day 1 (Dec 20th): Naughty Presents (AO3)

Day 2 (Dec 21st): Ungrumpify Your Papa (you are here!)

Day 3 (Dec 22nd): Mistletoe'd (AO3)

Day 4 (Dec 23rd): Treasure Hunt (AO3)

Secondo is very particular about how he curates his living quarters. His taste is distinct and refined, but not to the point of tackiness. It’s obvious that he’d spent a non-trivial amount of time picking out his furniture after he became Papa, and even more time reorganizing his space to ensure you felt welcome after he’d asked you to move in with him. Every book, every pillow, every little trinket or decoration or memory has a dedicated place somewhere, and each piece is treasured and respected like it has belonged there for all of eternity.

So, you weren’t surprised when Secondo grumbled when you pulled out a red and gold plaid throw blanket for the holidays, but he’s gracious enough to allow it to live on the couch (so long as it is neatly folded after every use, of course). And you had to stifle your laugh when he’d come home to find a little mistletoe hanging from the threshold of his bedroom and had jumped nearly ten feet in the air thinking it was a spider.

He came to terms with the mistletoe, though, after realizing that every time he jumped when seeing it from his periphery, you’d come over and kiss him and remind him it was only temporary. He didn’t tell you that he’d let you keep the mistletoe up all year round if it gave him an excuse to kiss you more.

The tree you want, though… that’s another battle.

“Please?” You ask sweetly, snuggling with him under the aforementioned red and gold blanket.

“No, amore,” Secondo says.

You’re tracing gentle patterns into his bare chest and can feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. You watch as the soft, dark hair dusting his skin catches on your finger. “Explain to me your reasoning.”

Secondo chuckles—a low, deep sound that you can feel more than hear. “Must I explain myself past the fact that I simply do not want a tree?”

“But why?” You ask him. You lift yourself up onto an elbow and look down at him. The two of you had built a little nest of sorts in front of the fireplace in his sitting room. It’s the first night that the two of you, as well as the entire Abbey, are absolved from duties in a week-long observance of the solstice and Yule, and you had decided to spend it together, alone, and very naked.

Secondo sighs but there’s still a little smile on his face. He can’t help but adore you and your insistence. It seems to him that you’re determined to uproot his entire life. He would gladly shed his roots and the soil of comfort and routine they grow in if it meant seeing you happy, but where is the fun in that? He enjoys making you ask for what you want. He enjoys seeing you work for it. And, in some (most) instances, he enjoys pushing you until you resort to begging.

“Because,” Secondo begins, drawing you back down to lay your head on his warm chest, “there is no room for one. And we have nothing to put on it.”

You laugh. “This room alone is bigger than my old Sibling quarters. There’s plenty of space.”

“It could catch on fire.”

“Secondo, you don’t put a tree directly in front of the fireplace.”

“Well. Suppose there is an ember—“

“And,” you playfully cut him off. “We can find things to decorate it with. Warm lights, those red, wooden beads for a garland, little glass ornaments… It can be classy. We can make it match your taste.”

Your lover is silent for a moment, considering. “There would be pine needles everywhere.”

You laugh again. His tone of voice tells you that you’re close to cracking him. Oh, you’re well aware of the games he plays with you and take full part in them. The push and pull, the give and take of him letting you believe you’re in control and then showing you that this was his plan all along… even with something as mundane as a holiday tree, your heart speeds up and your face heats just slightly.

You’re still tired from the evening’s activities, after all.

“We can get a fake one,” you offer. “Small, too. Nothing unmanageable. And I’ll string the lights on it because it’s a pain in the ass.”

Secondo traces lines back and forth over your shoulder, tickling your skin. “You speak like the decision is already made, amore.”

“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to back down yet.”

He chuckles again. “Sto solo scherzando. Will it make you happy?”

You prop yourself up again and press a kiss to his lips. “It will,” you say softly. “But I don’t need a tree to make me happy. If you really don’t want one, we won’t have one.”

“You said it yourself,” Secondo says against your mouth, “that it is temporary. I will survive.”

You feel his mouth curl into a small smile against your own when you kiss him again. You’re sure yours must feel the same.

~~~

You and Secondo stroll leisurely through the rows of trees. The display is pretty, and nostalgic—it’s been staged to look like a small grove of real trees, with the stands cleverly hidden by piles of snow at the bases. Some of the trees are fully decorated, and some have only lights, but most are completely bare to emulate a tree farm. Somehow the staff had managed to make the display smell like pine and a hint of cinnamon, and if you close your eyes and listen to the winter breeze and the jingling of bells on the storefront door, it feels like a real tree farm.

“You know,” you say to Secondo as you stop in front of a tree with fake snow on it, “you never told me why you didn’t want a tree.”

Secondo regards the tree for a moment and, seeing how easily the fake snow flakes off of the limbs with just a slight breeze, gently tugs you towards the next one. “It is not necessarily the tree that I am opposed to,” he says. “But the commercialization of what is supposed to be a holiday.”

You’re silent for a moment as you think about his words. He does have a point. There are a fair few seasonal decorations that you find to be unbearably tacky, but the ones you do enjoy carry a warm nostalgia. “I see,” you muse. “For a while after I converted, it was hard to rationalize the holiday because it’s so ingrained in our culture to be a Jesus thing.”

“Esattamente,” Secondo nods. “Even though most of it is taken straight from Pagan traditions.”

You stop in front of a plain tree, not any taller than Secondo, with simple, warm white lights. “That helped me rationalize it,” you tell him. “To know that modern Christmas is an amalgam of different things, and that there’s no right way to celebrate it. It doesn’t make us bad Satanists because we have a tree, or bake cookies, or wrap gifts. There doesn’t have to be any religious undertone.”

“You are right,” Secondo says after a brief silence. “What is that term… when people use a word incorrectly enough times that the meaning changes.”

“Colloquialism?” you offer.

“SÌ. Christmas has become a colloquialism. Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, Christmas, whatever you wish to call it.”

“Is that why you never celebrated?”

Secondo looks at you, and he nearly loses his breath. The sun is going down so the sky is a deep blue, leaving your face to be illuminated only by the warm white lights of the tree in front of you. You look so cozy in your hat and scarf and coat. And you’re trying to understand him, understand why he is not a ‘holiday’ person. How he adores you.

“To a degree,” he says, looking away because he’s dangerously close to swooping you into his arms and kissing you silly. “The holiday has lost all its meaning beyond materialism. That is the way it seems. Why should I need a holiday to tell me when to gift things to the people who matter?”

“You don’t, I suppose,” you shrug. “But it’s not completely about that. It’s the thought, the warmth, the togetherness. This time of year is when people want to feel cozy and comfortable and happy. To surround themselves with the people and things they love. It’s cold, and dark, and the holiday allows us to indulge in the things we might feel guilty about at any other time of year.”

Secondo listens to your voice, and he understands. “I feel a bit like Scrooge,” he says softly. And he does—a bitter old man, learning the true meaning of Christmas… or something.

“Which ghost am I?” You ask, laughing.

“You are Tiny Tim,” he replies without having to think. “Not a ghost, but I think the wisest character in the whole story.”

“Satan bless us,” you say in your best impression of a small child. “Every one.”

In the end, Secondo chooses the tree you’d been standing in front of. He tells you that it was because he likes that it’s small and simple (which is true), but he’d seen how your eyes reflected the small bulbs and decided he couldn’t let that evening be the last time he sees that.

You also purchase simple glass bulbs, a modest tree skirt, and a silver garland to match Secondo’s green and silver color scheme in his chambers. When you arrive back at the Abbey excited to decorate, however, you remember that you’d forgotten to choose a topper. While he has his back turned to pour the two of you some hot chocolate, you sneak to the closet which houses his papal robes, and when he turns around, he finds his mitre situated crookedly atop the tree and your smug face pretending you don’t know how it got there.

“It is lopsided,” Secondo hums, handing you your mug.

“It has character,” you counter. You hide your smile behind the steaming hot chocolate.

Secondo smiles, too.

~~~

After the tree debacle, you wonder how far into the holiday spirit you can drag Secondo. You aren’t determined to make him the embodiment of Santa Claus, but you hope to ease his grumpiness. And honestly, it isn’t just the holiday that you want him to enjoy, it’s the whole season. Winter is cold and dark and oftentimes miserable, yes, but it doesn’t have to be. Not when you have someone to come home to after years of spending it alone.

So you suggest cookies. Because I love sugar cookies, you explain when Secondo asks. And Copia has a sweet tooth. And we need something to bring to dinner with your family.

Not at all because watching Secondo in the kitchen gets you going like nothing else.

You sit at the small table in his kitchen, watching him move. He’d shooed you out of the way after scolding you for suggesting you use a premade mixture of Betty Crocker sugar cookies, insisting that if you must make cookies, you will at least do it right. But how can you stay away from him when he looks like that?

He’s wearing his apron (which is, in and of itself, an incredible turn-on). The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscular forearms. And his hands, oh, his hands, are bare and flexing, kneading the dough as he mixes flour in pinch by pinch. The veins in his arms are highlighted in the overhead kitchen lights. His shoulders stretch and move, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight against his back again and again.

Sweet Satan, give me strength, you think. And Satan, ever the purveyor of sin and temptation, strips all the strength from your mind and whispers in your ear to go to him.

So you do. You quietly slip out of your chair and approach Secondo, taking in his perfect form. His broad shoulders, the slight pooch to his sides, his ass which is hugged so perfectly in his trousers, his hands kneading the dough ball like they knead the flesh of your thighs, your chest, your belly, your rear. Your hands slip around his middle and you press yourself against his back. You feel him pause.

“Amore,” Secondo says softly and you’re not exactly convinced that he’s chiding you. “You are a terrible distraction. Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta?”

You trace your hands up his stomach to his chest, relishing in his warmth. There’s probably flour on your hands and forearms and all over his apron, but you don’t care. “Can you blame me? You know very well what watching you in the kitchen does.”

“SÌ, I do, my dove,” Secondo hums. His hands are still now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your palms brushing up and down his body. Yes, he knows quite well what he’s doing to you. He’d be a liar if he said his insistence to bake the cookies from scratch was entirely innocent. But he supposes you know that. “Tell me, amore. If I were to turn around and lift you up onto this counter and spread your legs, what would I find, hm?”

Instead of answering him, you trail your hands back down from his chest, over his tummy, and down to the crux between his legs and pelvis, resting your palms there and squeezing lightly. You can already feel the stretching fabric of his trousers and know that if he turned around to make good on his promise, you would find him hard and aching. He heaves a trembling breath at your movements. It’s likely that he will punish you for this later, but is it really a punishment if it’s what you desire most?

It’s not often that Secondo allows you to take control like this. Even if it’s just a small movement, a little caress of his arousal, he’s quick to pull your hands away and make sure you find your pleasure first. But slowly, his hands begin to work into the dough once more, and he makes no further comment. Your own hands find the button of his trousers and tug it open.

“Amore,” Secondo hums in warning when your fingers brush along the length of him over the fabric of his pants.

In a stroke of confidence (and maybe a touch of curiosity as to what might happen if you poke the sleeping bear), you reach down his front to grasp him over his briefs. It’s only for a moment before you’re withdrawing your hand and fumbling his button closed again. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades and step away. “Sorry, love. Cookies take precedence.”

Then, you’re pressed against the kitchen table, your wrists pinned beside your head as Secondo looms over you and presses his hips to your own. His breath is hot and his voice is low in your ear as he speaks. “You know very well that I would ravish you right now,” he growls, rutting his hips forward to spread your thighs even further. You can feel just how honest he’s being and you sigh with the contact. “If it were not for this dinner… this cena maledetta…”

There’s flour all over your clothes from his apron pressing against your front. The tip of his nose traces a path up from the sensitive skin below your ear, across your cheekbone, to rest against yours. His lips brush your own as he speaks. “Do not think I do not know what you are doing.”

“I know you know,” you say, your voice sultry. You arch your back up off the tabletop and press your chest into his. “That’s why I do it.”

“Sei una tentazione,” Secondo whispers. “Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti?”

Your jaw slacks open when he presses his hips even harder against yours. He takes the opportunity to lean in and nip at your lower lip, tracing his tongue along it and tugging. “One day,” you gasp when he pulls away, “I will understand when you say such filthy things to me in Italian.”

“You tell me that not knowing is a thrill.”

“Oh, it is. But sometimes I wish I could understand what depraved things you’ll do.”

“Let me put it plainly, then,” Secondo says. He takes the shell of your ear between his teeth and squeezes your wrists just a bit tighter. Your thighs lift as he presses himself against you completely. “We are going to make these cookies. We are going to Terzo’s dinner party. And we are going to stay for however long is acceptable before I take you back here and punish you for teasing me.”

“Yes, Papa.”

~~~

Oh, you hate him.

Not for last night when he’d punished you, no. You very much do not hate him for that. You’d gone to bed with trembling legs after he had to help you to the shower. He compared you to a newborn deer but held you steady as you wobbled, and then gave you one last orgasm in the warm water before the two of you retired to bed.

Rather, you hate him because he’d been waiting for a reason to punish you last night. He’d been searching for an excuse to make you fall off the edge of the world, more than a few times over, because he’d planned to take you and your wobbly legs surprise ice skating the next morning and thought it would be funny to watch you scramble.

“I hate you,” you grumble as you cling to his hand with a vice-like grip. “I hate you and your stupid memory.”

Secondo laughs quietly and supports your weight. You almost lose balance when he leans down to speak lowly in your ear, but he keeps you upright. “I did not hear you saying that last night when I remembered where to touch to make you–”

“Alright, alright,” you interrupt, your face heating. “But last night I didn’t think I had to tell you to take it easy so I could stand upright today.”

“That is the fun of it, amore. Seeing you wobble, knowing I did this.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “How is your ass? Sore?”

“From you spanking it or from falling on it four times?” You ask.

“Either way,” Secondo stands up straight again, “I suppose the answer is the same.”

You huff. “I used to be able to do spins as a kid,” you tell him. “And now I can barely stand on skates because of you and your fingers and your tongue and your little Secondino.”

“He is not very little though, is he?” Secondo asks, and you could smack him if he wasn’t completely right. You’re wobbly because he’s not little in the slightest.

You’re grateful, though. You’d mentioned how you used to go ice skating as a child, and how you haven’t in a very long time. In previous relationships, that was that. You would mention something you miss, or an activity you used to love, and that would be the end of it. But with Secondo, dear, attentive, lovely, grumpy Secondo, it’s different. You feel heard for the first time in your life. And that might be terribly cheesy, but it’s true. He does more for you than the absolute bare minimum you’d grown to expect from partners and you feel positively spoiled. If you can give him even half of the happiness he gives you, you’re happy. You would give him the world and the sun and the moon if you could.

Secondo notices your silence and squeezes your hand, warm and cozy in the gloves Terzo had gifted you at his dinner last night. “Where did you go, dove?”

“Sorry,” you shake yourself from your reverie and blink away the sudden tears of gratitude and affection. “I just love you. Thank you for taking me skating.”

“You’re welcome. Anch’io ti amo.”

Eventually you find your sea legs and show him the (very basic) spins you know how to do. You manage not to fall on your ass a fifth time. And then you begin to seethe because, of course, Secondo is perfectly balanced and graceful and can skate like he was born on the ice. Your poised Papa is always so composed and you feel like, as he’d said, a newborn deer perpetually falling.

You hate him, but that doesn’t stop the heat from building in your lower belly. Again.

~~~

The next day is the Ministry’s observed holiday. Most of the Abbey’s residents choose to spend it honoring the Olde One in sin with loved ones—eating, drinking, laughing, fucking. You and Secondo are no different, having celebrated the holiday with family and friends at Terzo’s dinner two days prior.

That was the intention of hosting a dinner two days before the holiday. So that one might be able to honor Satan and the unholy observance without having to worry about family coming.

You are absolutely not complaining. You spend the morning sleeping in, held in Secondo’s strong, warm embrace. When you wake, there’s no rush to get out of bed. He apologizes for your sore (and slightly fall-bruised) ass by rubbing and kneading it with gentle hands, pressing kisses down your spine with no sense of urgency or implication of more. You want there to be more, but you have something planned for later.

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to wait for later to arrive.

In the weeks leading up to the holiday, he’d told you not to worry about finding a gift for him. He said that you are enough, that spending time with you and just seeing you is enough of a gift. That you’d somehow managed to soothe the harshness in his soul. In his Secondo way of saying those things, which is less sappy. But you know that the sap was there, so you found a gift for him anyway.

The gift, of course, is something practical and utilitarian. Fit for Secondo’s taste but not something he already has. Something you know for a fact he’ll enjoy.

That’s the list of things you’d written in your head when debating whether or not to buy the expensive, green satin lingerie with silver buckles. And of course, you needed a robe to hide it with so he can unwrap his gift.

Although neither of you want to get up from the cozy cocoon of bedsheets you’re tangled in, your stomach begins to growl for breakfast.

“Hungry?” Secondo asks from where his face is nestled against your neck.

“Very,” you say, and make no move to get up. Neither does he.

Your stomach growls again.

“Hush,” Secondo says softly. “I am comfortable.”

After the third growl, you laugh, and Secondo pushes himself off of you to sit upright. “Coffee?”

“Please,” you nod.

When Secondo stands to walk into the kitchen, shirtless and practically glowing in the morning sun coming through the windows, you decide that later can come whenever you like. He can spend all day and night unwrapping his gift over and over and over if he wishes to. You can’t bear to wait.

You slip away with the box containing your robe and underthings and lock yourself in the bathroom. It takes you a few tries to align the straps correctly so you can slip your head and arms through where they’re supposed to go, but the lower portion is more straightforward. The set is simple once it’s situated correctly. There’s a strip of fabric leading up the middle of your chest and around your neck, clasped at the front with a silver buckle, not entirely unlike a collar. The thin straps accentuate your chest and shoulders while still leaving most of your skin exposed for Secondo to leave marks on. The bottoms are strappy as well, with an attached garter belt secured with two silver buckles matching the one on your neck. Observing yourself in the mirror, you feel powerful. You know exactly what this will do to Secondo, and do for him. You feel powerful in the knowledge that you are about to allow him to overpower you.

You only hope the lingerie doesn’t get ripped in the process.

You slip the robe over your shoulders and close it, offering only a peek of the fabric around your neck, and fix your bedhead before exiting the bathroom. You stride into the kitchen like absolutely nothing has changed and find Secondo, gathering ingredients for breakfast and still shirtless. If you hadn’t changed into the set you’re wearing already then you would turn tail and do it now.

But, you steel yourself and enter the kitchen, making a beeline for your favorite mug which he’d filled with coffee. “Thank you, love,” you say softly. You lean against the counter and take a sip. It’s delicious but you couldn’t care less about the coffee right now.

“Amore,” Secondo says lowly once he catches a glimpse of your new robe and the fabric peeking out underneath. “What is this?”

He raises his finger to trace along the strip of fabric running down your chest until it disappears under the robe. “You said not to get anything for you,” you tell him, trying to act like the simple touch isn’t burning your skin. “But, did you really expect me not to?”

“Sathanas, you are sent to me by the Devil himself,” Secondo groans. He takes your mug of coffee from you and places it on the counter. “How must I wait until we have eaten when you…”

You gently take his other hand and intertwine your fingers. It’s not often that Secondo has no words. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re sure he can feel it beneath his fingertips. “Don’t wait, then,” you say.

Slowly, Secondo traces his hand down your chest, over your sternum and towards your navel where your robe is tied closed. He pulls on the end and the robe falls open, revealing the set of lingerie adorning your skin. You feel his hot, shaky breath fan across your face as he takes in the sight of you. As if in reverence, he gently pushes the robe off your shoulders. It falls at your heels and you’re left bare in front of him, skin hot yet somehow covered in goosebumps. “Sathanas,” he curses again, thanking his maker for you.

Secondo places his hands on your waist and draws you towards him. Your own hands rise to his chest and you find that his heart is beating just as quickly as yours. Your lips meet somewhere in the middle, warm and desperate and passionate. He kisses you like it’s the last time, but also like you’re made of glass. Like he wants to ravage you and worship you at the same time but can’t decide. His tongue licks into your mouth, tracing your bottom lip. He tastes like coffee and Secondo.

You nearly stumble when he begins to push you but you quickly understand his mission. His hands guide you out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, walking you backwards while his lips never leave your own. “Sathanas,” he groans a third time. He can’t think of anything but you, the feel of you, the taste of you, the sight of you. The only word from his mouth is a prayer at your altar.

Secondo guides you until the backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he lifts you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator taunting his prey. Your thighs part on instinct to welcome his body between them. The cool air of the room reaches your aching arousal and you realize that you’re already embarrassingly wet.

His hands slide up and down your sides, to your hips, the tops of your thighs. He traces his fingers over the fabric of the garter belt, snapping the strap against your skin and smirking at the sound. “You are sin,” he growls as he leans down to latch his lips to your neck. “I need you.”

“Take me,” you moan, and your voice comes out more desperate than you intend for it to, but you’re past the point of caring. You want him to know that you need him, too. “Please, Papa. I’m yours.”

Secondo’s mouth trails down your chest, leaving wet kisses and little marks as you’d predicted (and hoped). He finds the hard peak of your nipple through the thin satin and lathes his tongue over it, eliciting another moan from your lips. “Say it again for me, amore. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Papa,” you breathe as his teeth gently bite down on your covered nipple. “I belong to you. Only you.”

“Guisto. You are mine and mine alone.”

His mouth moves to your other nipple and, as if to accentuate his statement, he gives it a harder nip. You gasp at the sensation and arch your back into his mouth. “Papa…”

“Hm?” Secondo hums, and the vibrations make you moan once more. “What is it, tesoro?”

You know very well that he knows what you want, but you also know that he wants to hear you say it. “Please, your mouth,” you gasp. Your hands clutch at his shoulders and give an almost imperceptible push downwards. “I want your mouth, Papa, please.”

Secondo licks a path down your midsection. “Già così disperato per me,” he mumbles against the skin just above the garter belt. His lips blaze a path along the strip of fabric, and for the first time you wish it was gone. You’ve had your fill, he’s seen it all, and seen you in it. It can go away now. But, he takes mercy on you, and kisses his way to your pubic mound, also covered by the cursed fabric.

“Oh, amore, you are already dripping for me. I wonder if I can make you cum without taking these off, sì? They are already ruined, what is a little more?”

Secondo places a light kiss over your wetness through the fabric and your hips twitch upwards. Immediately his hands wrap around your thighs and grasp your hips, stilling you. “None of that,” he chides you, and repeats the kiss. You bite your lip to stifle your noises. That earns you a light slap on the outside of your thigh, and you gasp. “None of that either. I want to hear you.”

He licks a broad stripe up the entire length of your slit, humming as he does. Your hips twitch again but they can’t move in his firm grip. Your hands grip the bedsheets as you gasp. “Papa!”

You’re already so worked up that you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly. His tongue traces slow circles around your clit, sometimes dipping to press at your entrance but never straying for long. The fabric is practically plastered to the form of your core, but it’s not quite enough. It’s thin but it dampens the sensations of his mouth against your flesh just enough for your orgasm to elude you.

“P-Papa, please,” you pant. Your hand finds the back of his head to press him harder to you, but it’s still not enough. “Please, I need more. I’m so close, please…”

“Look at me, dove,” Secondo commands, and you obey. His cheeks are flushed and you can just barely see the shine of your wetness on the tip of his nose. “Look at me as I help you cum.”

He snakes one hand back towards your entrance and lightly presses there, then slowly works his middle finger under the fabric to dip into you. It’s frustratingly shallow, just to the first knuckle, but he knows you’re most sensitive there. His tongue flicks faster on your clit, still covered by the satin yet completely drenched, and you cum. “Papa!”

Your entrance clenches rhythmically around the tip of his finger. He growls and shoves the crotch of your panties to the side, latching his lips around your clit and sucking just as he pushes his finger deep into you. He finds the spot only he knows exists and you see stars as your first orgasm gives way to another, more powerful climax. You tumble down the side of a mountain of pleasure on his tongue and scream.

Secondo works you through the intense pleasure until the aftershocks roll pleasantly up and down your limbs, and your hips twitch up from oversensitivity. He pulls away and licks his lips. “Perfezione,” he says softly, crawling back up your body until he can kiss you properly. “Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua.”

You can taste yourself on his tongue. His hands softly stroke up and down your thighs, easing the trembling there. You sling your arms around his shoulders and pull him down so that his chest rests against yours. “Do you like your gift?” you ask when you’ve finally caught your breath again.

“Sempre,” Secondo hums. “Every time I touch you is a gift, amore.”

You lean up to kiss him again, because you don’t want to sully the heat and passion between you by crying at his sudden tenderness. “Let me make you feel good, too,” you whisper against his mouth.

When your hands begin to wander downwards, Secondo rises onto his knees and grasps your wrists firmly. The position mirrors the one you’d found yourself in two days prior, after the cookie incident, and your core clenches around nothing. “All I want is to be inside you,” Secondo growls. The tenderness is replaced by a fiery passion behind his eyes, and his grip on your wrists leaves no room for debate on who is in charge now. You’ve ensnared him with your gift, now he gets to unwrap it.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Papa.”

Secondo hastily pulls his sleep pants off and his cock bounces up against his lower stomach. You wish so desperately that you could touch him, trace the trail of dark hair from his chest all the way down to the base of him, but he still has your hands beside your head. “Stay just like this for me, sì?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question and you nod. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your ruined underwear and tugs. “Up.”

You lift your hips and he slides the soaked fabric down your legs and tosses it aside. Your hands, now unrestrained, itch to touch him. “Can I touch you?” you ask, your voice breathy and desperate. You’re hoping he allows it, because if he really didn’t want you to move, there are cuffs in his bedside table that he could have easily used to hold your arms above your head.

“Not yet, amore. You are doing so well for me.”

You whine, but stay still. Secondo parts your thighs again and slots himself between them. The tip of his cock brushes against your swollen clit and you gasp, rutting your hips upward to seek more. But he doesn’t enter you, not yet. You know what he’s waiting for.

“Please, Papa,” you say, canting your hips upward once more to accentuate your words. “I want to feel you, please.”

“Bene,” Secondo hums. “Così buono per me.”

Secondo positions the head of his cock at your entrance, and pushes in slowly. Your back bows off the mattress and you sigh. “Oh, thank you, thank you…”

Inch by thick, delicious inch, Secondo enters you until your hips press together and you can feel the tip of him nudging at your cervix. When he’s fully inside you, he pauses, giving you time to breathe and adjust to his size. You hold his gaze as he strokes your thighs, soothing you, urging you to relax around him. “You may touch me,” he says.

You bring your hands to the skin below his navel to trace along the strip of hair. Usually you like to kiss your way down, leaving little love bites along his happy trail, but both of you had been so desperate for this closeness that you couldn’t prolong the process. His muscles jump and twitch under your light touches. Slowly, you slide your palms up to rest on the sides of his neck and draw him down to kiss you. The shift in angle makes his cock move inside you and he brushes against the spot his middle finger had found just minutes ago, making you clench around him. He groans into your mouth at the sensation.

“Are we going ice skating again tomorrow?” You ask.

Secondo huffs a laugh. “No, amore. I plan to make your legs wobble without having to worry about a sore ass.”

You laugh with him and kiss him once more, then roll your hips against his. “Good.”

He grips you by the hips and begins to thrust shallowly in and out of you. The drag of his cock is divine inside you, and yes, your legs will very much be wobbling tomorrow because you intend to spend all day like this and it is barely breakfast. Your head falls down against the mattress and exposes your neck, yet devoid of marks, to Secondo. And who is he to pass up an opportunity like that?

His lips descend on your pulse point just as he increases his pace. This angle again makes his cock brush against the tender spot on your inner walls and it rips a moan from your throat.

“Sì, amore, let me hear you. Let me hear how I make you feel.”

“Ah, it’s so—so good, Papa, you feel so good inside me—”

Secondo increases his speed again. His teeth gently dig into the skin of your neck and you clench around him, making him growl into your ear. “My little devil,” he rasps. “Who do you belong to? Tell me again.”

“You, Papa! I’m yours!”

“Yes—ah, yes, you are mine. Only mine. Only I can take you like this, capisci? O-only I can make you feel this pleasure.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you register that Secondo is being particularly vocal this time. His eyes never stray from yours, but his hands are everywhere—your hips, your thighs, your stomach, your chest. His fingers briefly dip into your mouth and you willingly accept them, lathing your tongue over them and tasting the remnants of your juices on his skin. His hips snap against your own, over and over and over, increasing in pace until you bounce back and forth on his cock in time with his thrusts.

With the fingers now covered in your saliva, Secondo brings his fingers directly to your oversensitive clit. Your hands clench onto any part of him you can reach, your fingernails scratching his skin and leaving red trails raised in their wake. You aren’t sure if you’re screaming or completely silent with the overwhelming pleasure. But your eyes feel magnetized to his own, like if you were to look away, the spell would break and the pleasure that’s building between you would dissipate entirely.

“P-Papa,” You gasp, breathless. “I–I’m—”

“Sì, amore mio. Cum around my cock. Cum for me.”

His desperate, almost animalistic command, paired with his fingers abusing your clit and his cock splitting you open so perfectly, send you hurtling over the edge of your climax and your vision goes white. Your entire being, your entire consciousness is centered between your legs and wherever he touches. The rest of you falls away into bliss as Secondo thrusts into you through your orgasm.

You’re still riding the tidal waves of pleasure when Secondo finds his own release, spilling inside you and slowing his thrusts until eventually he stills against you. As your awareness fades back in and your orgasm ebbs away, you realize that your legs are trembling, but so are his. Your chests heave together as you catch your breath. You relish in the warm weight of him on top of you and inside of you, tracing your fingertips up and down his spine.

When he manages to steady himself enough to hold his weight on his arms, Secondo pushes himself up just enough so he can plant soft, tender kisses against your lips. “Amore mio,” he mumbles reverently, “Sei la luce della mia vita.”

“I love you,” you respond just as softly. Though you don’t (yet) understand what he said, you can feel the weight of his words in your heart. He isn’t the type to deliver flowery speeches or long-winded declarations of love, but you know he feels it for you, as you do for him. The two of you don’t need words. It shines through the string lights on the tree in the living room. It wafts through the air on the scent of freshly baked sugar cookies. It follows you in the sound of skates sliding in tandem atop the frozen lake, and in the pleasured cries echoing in the walls of the bedroom.

Your stomach growls, and you feel the rumble of Secondo’s laugh deep in your chest.

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

Translations:

Amore - love

Sto solo scherzando - I'm only joking

Esattamente - exactly

Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta? - How am I supposed to bake these cookies with you tempting me?

cena maledetta - cursed dinner

Sei una tentazione...Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti? - You are a temptation...why must you be so tempting when I cannot have you?

Anch’io ti amo - I love you too

Giusto - Right

Tesoro - treasure, sweetheart

Già così disperato per me - Always so desperate for me

Perfezione - Perfection

Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua - So perfect for me. So loud when you cum on my tongue

Sempre - always

Così buono per me - So good for me

Capisci - Understood

Sei la luce della mia vita - You are the light of my life

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Taglist (from my Camellia fic, I hope that's okay!): @bonelessghoul @gbatesx @the-did-i-ask @leah-halliwell92 @archive-obsess @rosacrose @sodoswitchimage @portaltothevoid @lightbluuestars @thesoundresoundsecho @stephnthangss @enchantedbunny @jackson5611-blog @copiasprincipessa @kadedoesthings @justheretoreadleavemealone @tiedyedghoulette @honimello @deetz-ghuleh @da-rulah @nijiru

#xxxmasattheministry #merryghostmas #merryghostmas2023 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #secondo #secondo emeritus #papa secondo #secondo smut #secondo x reader #papa emeritus smut #papa secondo x reader #secondo x afab!reader #ghost band smut

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writingjourney · 11 months

Text

starved | secondo x reader

summary: after a week away on clergy business, secondo wants to make up for lost time – and so do you.

content: 1.6k words, afab!reader, pronouns should be gender-neutral, this is all smut (18+, MDNI, face sitting, hair pulling, mild breeding kink, it’s softer than those tags make it sound lol, smut with feelings), established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Secondo’s strong nose presses right up against your clit. You’re struggling to hold still with his tongue inside of you, with the vibrations each of his moans sends through your whole body. He seems to have given up breathing for the time being. His grip on your hips is so tight that you can already feel the first bruises that will undoubtedly blossom on your skin over night. After a week of being away on clergy business, his continued disagreements with Sister and two delayed flights on the way home, Secondo came home, raging-hard and impatient, and you’d let him fuck his frustrations out on you right in the hallway. After a shower, exchanging all the gentle touches and words of affection you’ve been missing for the past week, you proposed to order in some dinner. Secondo didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he dragged you off to the bedroom, wet footprints running along the wooden floor.

“You know I’m so hungry after my flight, amore,” he’d said on the way over, “but nothing tastes as good as you and that is what your Papa truly craves.”

This is how you ended up sitting on his face, grasping the headboard so tightly that your knuckles turn white. Any doubt or hesitation flies out the window when he firmly pushes his tongue inside of you again and again. You can’t help but grind on his face. The bridge of his nose drags over your clit with every roll of your hips and that’s when he starts to really get going. Once Secondo has you exactly where he wants you, he’s relentless, not letting up until you’re screaming his name into the safe cocoon that is his four poster bed with the heavy drapes. Even after you come down from your high, he doesn’t let you go.

“Please,” you whine, your thighs trembling on either side of his flustered face. “Papa.”

Secondo’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of annoyance at the interruption, and you know he wants to keep this going for as long as you’re able to sit upright. But you want more of him after your long deprivation, you want to feel him until it hurts.

“What is it, amore?” he finally asks, voice muffled between your thighs.

“I want you inside of me,” you try again. “Please. I missed you so much, I want more.”

With a flicker of reluctance, his grip eases up, fingers uncurling as he drags his hands down your legs. You manage to slip away from his messy face, settling on the mattress beside him. As you run your fingernails down his torso, they leave red marks on his pale skin, stopping right where his hard cock is already leaking onto his abdomen.

“Hm, va bene. I allow it,” he says, sitting up slightly and giving your ass a gentle slap. “Show your Papa how much you missed him, my little dove. Come on, I am yours, use me how you wish.”

You hesitate for a second. It’s unusual for him to give up control so easily but the growing smirk on his face tells you that that’s not what this is. He entertains you, gives you what you want before he takes what he wants.

“What? I thought you were so desperate, amore,” he teases, his hand still on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh with his long fingers.

Excitement shoots through your veins now. You move to straddle him, facing away from him just how he likes with your hands gripping his thighs for more support. Immediately, you feel his hands all over your back, tracing every curve he can find, even wrapping around to fondle with your breasts for a moment. You roll your hips a few times, feeling his cock slide between your slick folds, back and forth, back and forth, gasping whenever his length presses into your clit. When you finally sink down on him, you moan, feeling him stretch you open far wider than his tongue ever could.

“Just like that, amore,” he coos. “So good for me.”

His words are like balm on your soul after going so long without his gentle praise. Once you’re used to his size, you start to move in a rhythm that feels sustainable. Secondo’s hands never stop exploring your back, even as you speed up, and you can hear his breathing getting faster as well. His fingers grasp your hair, wrapping what he can around his hand and yanking your head back until your body arches. His other hand explores the curve he just created, running up and down your spine like a sculptor feeling the flow of the marble.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “How I missed this view.”

Your reply is a low groan, the angle making it harder to move. Secondo sits up and pulls you back into his lap, his free hand tight on your hip while the other one searches for the spot where your bodies join. He drags his mouth over your neck, never settling at one spot as his hot breath wanders over your skin. With every roll of your hips, you can feel the tip of his cock dragging along your sensitive walls, and his fingers flick over your clit in sync with your movements. It’s almost enough to make you come again but even with your eyes squeezed shut, you can’t help but wish you would see his face.

You freeze all your movements and he immediately stops as well, ever so perceptive.

“Are you alright, my dove?” he asks, his voice hoarse and out of breath.

You get off of him and turn around, immediately helping him back inside of you once you’ve settled in his lap. He groans at the renewed contact and you wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself against his front until you can feel your breasts squeezed between your bodies.

“I wanted to see you,” you whisper against his lips. “My handsome Papa. I missed you so.”

Secondo smiles, the loving smile he only ever gives you, and then he leans back against the headboard, taking you with him. The smile gets strained as you push yourself onto his cock. You can tell he’s close and before you can even begin to move, he digs his heels into the mattress, steadying you by your hips, and thrusts up into you. You cry out, holding onto him, fingertips digging into firm, muscly shoulders. He doesn’t slow, carrying you closer towards your release with every snap of his narrow hips.

“Papa,” you whimper, slowly losing your grasp on reality.

“I know. I have you, my dove,” he says, panting between words. “Your Papa takes care of you. Always.”

He swallows your next moan, pushing his tongue against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You fall over the edge with a sob, clenching around him almost painfully tight. Groaning into your mouth, Secondo gives two more harsh thrusts and then stills. You softly run your hand over his cheek when you feel him spilling inside of you, holding his gaze even as his eyelids flutter. You roll your hips in an attempt to carry him through and it earns you a low hum that vibrates against your palm. Smiling contently, you press a soft kiss to his lips, cradling his face for a moment before you sink against him in a tight, sweaty hug.

Secondo gently runs his fingers over your back as you both calm down. With his slowing breaths in your ear, your lips search for the soft skin below his jaw, kissing, sucking, nibbling, and he chuckles. “You are hungry, yes?”

“For you, my Papa. I am starved.”

Another deep rumble in his chest. “Did I not sate you yet, my love?”

You grimace, even though he can’t see it. “How could I ever be sated when they constantly take you away from me?”

Secondo hums. “Next time I refuse. All these useless trips, they just want me gone when they make decisions I do not like.”

“Or take me with you and we can just go somewhere nice.” You sigh, placing a trail of kisses from his neck over his jaw and to his cheek. “I love you, Secondo.”

“And I love you, my dove.”

He holds you for a moment longer, exploratory hands refamiliarising themselves with your body. You move to get off of him when you start to feel uncomfortable but his arms around you tighten until you’re trapped. You can feel his cock moving inside of you, sliding in deeper again through the stickiness of your joined bodies.

“Ah ah, amore,” Secondo chides softly. “You don’t want to waste the seed I just gave you?”

“Mhm, I’m sorry, Papa.”

“It’s okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “We’re honoring Satan tonight, my dove. You and I. We have to make up for a whole week, no?”

You hum and Secondo gives a lazy thrust in reply that has you moaning into the crook of his neck. He’s growing hard inside of you again and you can feel your arousal stirring as well. In one swift motion, he rolls you around so you’re underneath him, losing orientation when his mouth descends on yours in a heated kiss. When he breaks away, he starts to grind into you, his brow furrowed in concentration as his intense eyes focus on yours.

“He will be very pleased with you, taking me so well,” he whispers against your lips, his hand snaking up to wrap around your neck. “Are you ready for more, amore?”

You grasp his wrist, feeling his pulse against your fingertips. “Always, Papa.”

Thank you for reading! This was just a quick random thing I wanted to get off my mind. I hope you enjoyed nevertheless ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

#secondo #secondo x reader #secondo smut #secondo fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii smut #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus ii x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #MDNI

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 30th

Body Worship, Papa Emeritus II x Catholic!Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.1k.

Warnings: Body Worship (okay, turned out less body worship and more just worship in general but fuck it, I wanted to write it this way lmao); fingering; vaginal fingering; cunnilingus; marking; piv; vaginal sex; unprotected sex; praise kink; y’all this is soft soft, and I love it; religious symbolism; corruption kink; hair pulling; multiple orgasms;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

Author's Note: This is a continuation of October 3rd, so if you haven’t read that, please go and do so before you read this! Thanks!

Recommended listening: Chase Atlantic with their self-titled 2017 album.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Under the cloak of night, he crept through the ancient cobblestone streets of Rome, heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of impending doom. The Vatican’s towering walls loomed before him, a fortress of faith and secrets. Driven by a love forbidden by both church and society, he had come to breach the sanctum’s impenetrable defenses.

His leather-soled shoes barely made a sound as he approached the towering stone wall that guarded the Vatican’s secrets. In the moon’s pale glow, he could make out the shadows of security guards patrolling the perimeter. He crouched low, his heart racing with each passing second, and carefully assessed their movements.

Timing was everything. With the precision of a cat, he found his moment when two guards turned their backs, engaged in hushed conversation. In one swift, heart-pounding motion, he scaled the wall, fingers gripping the rough stone edges, and muscles straining with urgency. His breath held, he cleared the top, dropping silently to the other side, where the hallowed ground of Vatican City stretched out before him. It was almost as if he could feel the soles of his feet burning as it touched the hallowed ground, and forced him to move forward quickly.

Silent as a whisper, he navigated the maze of corridors of the Vatican’s residential quarters. The opulence and history that surrounded him seemed at odds with the clandestine nature of his mission. Portraits of pontiffs from centuries past stared down at him from gilded frames, their judgmental eyes seemingly aware of his transgressions.

He moved with caution, avoiding the gaze of any servants or clergy members who might cross his path, clutching onto his Grucifix pendant in his thick hand in an attempt to shield his true identity. His knowledge of the Vatican’s layout was limited, but the urgency of his desire propelled him forward.

Finally, he found himself outside a front door, familiar to him only by the number he’d been given. He knew this was where you resided, his forbidden lover, a cardinal of the church with all the responsibilities but none of the titles or accolades. With trembling hands, he reached for the doorknob, his heart pounding louder than the sacred hymns echoing through the Vatican’s hallowed halls.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the richly adorned tapestries that lined the walls. He had finally found your apartments, and with a mixture of apprehension and longing, he pushed the door open, revealing the inner sanctum of the Pope’s daughter.

Inside, you sat at a writing desk, the dim light revealing the weariness etched into your features. Your modest dress hung off your frame just as pristine as you liked it. You looked up from your work, your eyes widening in shock and disbelief as they met his.

Time seemed to stand still as your gazes locked. Words failed you both, as the weight of your forbidden rendezvous hung heavy in the air. You stood from your seat slowly eyes fixed on the now cocky Secondo whose arms were outstretched as though he wanted you to run to him and welcome him into your home. Run to him you did, but no words of welcome were exchanged.

Your palms reached his shoulders and with a force, you pushed him, anger now taking hold of your body. “What are you doing here!?” You hissed, clearly livid by his intrusion. This was not how he wanted things to go. “My father will be here any minute! What do you think he’d do if he found a Cardinal of the Satanic Church in his daughter’s room?”

Secondo grinned, his black upper lip stretching into a lacivious smile. “Hopefully he’d understand my intensions and close the door behind him.”

Your hand connected with his cheek, a red mark forming instantly. Just as you were about to lay into him, you heard a familiar voice sounding from the entryway. “___?” Your father had arrived.

Secondo’s eyes widened, now understanding the gravity of the situation. Though the Catholic church was supposed to be a pinnacle of moral upstanding, it wasn’t uncommon for Popes to take drastic measures to protect their Papacy, even if it meant defying their God’s wishes. Thou shalt not murder - unless of course they pose a threat to your power and need to be eradicated. Secondo knew that given he was a footsoldier of the Devil, a Satanic rat sent to plague the people with “immorality”, your father would have no problem crucifying him on the steps of St. Peter’s Basilica.

“Hide!” You shout-whispered, your panic even greater than Secondo’s.

Secondo wasted no more time, diving into your bedroom and throwing himself under your bed, thankful that you didn’t use it as storage. He did so at just the right time, because while he couldn’t see your father from his position, he could hear him and he was right where Secondo had stood just thirty seconds prior.

“What are you doing in here?” Your father asked, his tone certainly suspicious. “Why didn’t you come when I called?”

“Sorry, father, I was doing some work. Correspondances.”

Your father hummed in acknowledgement. “There’s a meeting tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. We’re gathering officials to discuss how we’re going to remove the vermin.”

Secondo didn’t need to visit the Vatican often to know that the vermin your father was referring to was the Satanic Church. He rolled his eyes and contorted his face to childishly mimic and mock your father - though he knew no one could see him, it was a knee-jerk reaction and he thought it was funny.

You hesitated before you spoke. “Yes, father.”

“Something you want to say?”

There were, in fact, several things you wanted to say to your father and none of them were kind. After spending as much time as you did with Secondo, you had grown to understand that they weren’t the monsters you used to fear and that the way your father and other members of your church talked about them was terrifying. You wanted to yell at your father for not treating you as you deserved, as well. How you were always promoted within the church, but could never retain the title as “women didn’t hold powerful positions”. But he had no problem using you to benefit his politics and Papacy. But all your thoughts would fall on deaf ears, and so you settled on a, “No, father.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

As the Pope finally left the room, you sank back against the door you had closed behind him, your emotions in turmoil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. That was the moment Secondo had been waiting for. He emerged from his hiding spot, his presence a comfort and a promise in the midst of your forbidden… whatever this was. The silence between you was palpable, broken only by the flickering candles and the distant echoes of Vatican life outside your apartment. He watched as you composed yourself, trying to calm yourself of the anger your father had left you with only to feel it flare up when you saw the Satanic Cardinal standing in your bedroom doorway.

“Why did you come here?” You quietly shouted at him, anger ever present in your voice. “You know what would happen to you if someone saw you - what would happen to me, too!”

You stood there, lecturing him about his behaviour, hands flailing about the room in your frustration and a small amount of hatred dancing in your eyes. As you unleashed your fury, your words cutting through the air like a storm, he couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the raw beauty of your anger. Your eyes blazed with intensity, your voice resonated with passion, and your fierce determination only made you more captivating. In that moment, your rage seemed to enhance your allure, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to you. Never had he seen a woman before so beautiful than you in that moment.

He thought back to when he first met you, how your anger and hatred towards him had fuelled his lust, and how it forced him to act against his better judgement to take your virginity on a desk that didn’t belong to him in the bowls of the Ministry.

Caught between the tumultuous emotions swirling around them, he took a step closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your presence. Your anger had laid bare the depth of your relationship, and he knew that your illicit connection was a flame that refused to be extinguished. As you continued to vent your frustrations, he reached out, gently taking your face into his hands and pressing his lips against yours, silencing you, a fervent promise that he would stand with you against all odds, consequences be damned.

You pushed against him at first, not because you didn’t want to kiss him, but because he had the nerve to silence you when you were talking. But the more you melted into his arms, the less resistance you put up, and allowed yourself to be caught by him as you began to fall from grace. Though your descent from righteousness started when you gave yourself to him, it was that kiss that solidified your feelings, and made you realise that however much you loved your God, you were sure you loved Secondo more.

Passions grew when he pressed you against your door, trapping you between him and the wood. His hands moved from your face, down your arms, and tickled at the bare skin until he finally settled at your hips. Your hands gripped at his cassock, holding on tightly and pulling him as close as he could possibly be to you, but even then that wasn’t close enough. His kisses ignited a fire in you that shouldn’t have been lit in the first place, and had you submitting and bending to his wishes willingly. When his fingers tightened on your hips and began lifting your dress, you let him. When his tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, you let it. When his hand found the gusset of your panties, you spread your legs to allow him easy access. When he dipped below the waistband, and stroked a tentative finger over your clit, you moaned into his mouth to encourage him to do it again.

In this moment, he wasn’t a servant of Satan. He was yours. Your ardent and eager slave, a genie sent to grant all of your wishes even if you didn’t know that he had them. His lips travelled South from yours, roaming over vast expanses of your body in search of a single destination. He moved to your jaw, your neck, your clothed dress, your stomach, hips, thighs. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his glove-covered fingers pulling your panties down with him as he knelt before you. You watched him hesitate for a moment, before wide eyes stared up at you as if to plead with you to grant him permission. His eyes were mismatched and popped against his Cardinal paints, a gentle yet emblazoned fire in his eyes as he waited for you. You couldn’t say no; you simply didn’t want to. You needed him probably more than he needed you. You nodded.

He gently lifted your leg in his hands and kissed it from ankle to knee. The higher up his lips went, the more passionately he kissed, and once more he played using his tongue. But now, in addition to kissing, he started sucking, leaving a trail of numerous dark brown hickeys on your thigh. No one would be able to see them here, but every time you caught a glimpse of your naked body, you would be reminded of them. Of him. Of what he did to you and the shame that was supposed to come with it. Shame that you refused to feel because that would imply you regretted letting him have his way with you. But even when you were worshipping your Lord, when you were in the confessional booth, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your actions.

He immediately dove in and started licking and sucking at your clit. He forgot to take it easy and instead allowed himself to just take from you what he wanted because he was so desperate and needy for your taste. He was encouraged to continue his movements by the faint and low whimpers that escaped from your partially opened mouth.

“Yes! Just like that!” Due to the strong suction he applied, you whispered, ending your sentence with a particularly breathy moan.

One of your hands flew to his head, gripping onto his hat and throwing it to the side allowing you to rest your hand there, pushing his face into your heat. Your hips bucked in pleasure, riding his tongue and taking what you needed from him. “Secondo!” The hand that wasn’t resting on his head flew up to your mouth, covering your exceptionally desperate moans as you came on his tongue, silencing yourself as much as you could so the Clergy wouldn’t hear your pleasure from the other side of the door.

When your orgasm had completely subsided, Secondo released you from his suctioned hold, his chin glistening with your juices and a small grin on his face. That grin altered your brain chemistry and instilled a confidence in you that you didn’t know you had. You pulled him by his cassock back to his feet and crashed your lips against his, kissing him much harder than before. You could taste yourself in his mouth, your own essence moving onto your tastebuds and heightening your arousal. Your hand gripped onto his and pulled off the first glove, still with your lips attached to his, and once it was off his hand, you threw it somewhere in the room. The second glove met the same fate.

You pushed him away from you and pulled at your zipper, undoing the dress and letting it pool around your feet. Your bra was the next to go, falling to the floor and exposing your breasts to him. You stood completely bare in front of him, looking at his face as his eyes ran over your body, drinking in every part of you he could see and committing it to memory. You then took his hand and walked him to the bedroom.

Before today, all your secret meetings had taken place after or during official meetings between your churches, sneaking off while representatives met to discuss peace or something redundant that both sides would ignore. Your meetings had been limited, but over the course of that week had been frequent. Yet for each of your encounters together, Secondo had taken charge. Despite how much he degraded you, how disrespectful his words were, you had grown to trust him entirely. He would never push you passed your limits, or do something to deliberately hurt you that you hadn’t already asked for or expressed your wish to try. Though he always used his experience to heighten yours, you were very much the pace-setter.

This was never more evident by his willingness for you to push him down onto the bed once his cassock and underwear was on your bedroom floor. How he happily lay on his back and watched you crawl up his body, tongue laving over his hairy stomach and chest and driving you further upwards. In your hubris, as your mouths connected in a passionate kiss, you took his length into your hands and lined him up with your sopping entrance, preparing both of you for the stretch you were about to experience. You felt Secondo’s hands move to your hips, supporting you as you sunk down onto him, taking him inside you in one fell swoop. This motion had you both breaking the kiss, mouths falling open in a perfect ‘o’ and your eyebrows raising while his furrowed, darkening his eyes.

You sat up, taking him even further down, and when you bounced for the first time, you ripped a growl from his throat. His back arched, his fingers tightened their grip on your hips. “Fuck!” He gasped when you did it again.

Your inexperience made it difficult for you to find a rhythm, your hands falling to his stomach to support you but failing to give you both the pleasure you needed. Secondo changed your motions for you, instead of helping you bounce, he used his hands to move you back and forth. “No, grind on me, little lamb.” He told you. You found a rhythm pretty quickly. “Just like that. Good girl.”

This position had your clit rubbing against his pubic mound and his cock moving inside you perfectly. The slight upwards curvature of him meant that each time you moved back, he hit that sweet spot inside you and caused you to cry out.

The more you moved, the more confident you became in your ability and allowed you to relax and just feel him - feeling the way he felt inside you, hitting your walls with each movement, his hands gripping onto you tight enough to leave more marks for you to admire later. While your eyes were closed in pleasure, his were wide open, drinking in every inch of your body and admiring you from below. He got to see you in your full glory, breasts bouncing with each thrust, thighs jiggling, mouth agape in ecstasy. The placement of your bed in the room in contrast with the overhead light created an ethereal glow, almost giving you a perfect halo around your head.

An angel.

You were an angel - you were his angel. The once good, Catholic girl who he loathed to look at, who made his life Hell in all the wrong ways. The righteous child who preached to those who didn’t want it, who was so sure in her decisions being the right one, now warmly accepting her mortal enemy into her body without much of a second thought. Now giving into temptation and pleasuring herself, against the will of her Lord, with the very man her book warned her about. The daughter of God using the son of Lucifer to commit sin after sin within the walls of the most hallowed building. It was almost as if he could feel your soul tainting with each thrust of your hips, your purity disintegrating along with his willpower each time a moan fell from your lips.

“Please,” you whimpered, “talk to me. Like you normally would.”

Degrade you? Now? He couldn’t possibly. He couldn’t find it within himself to tear you apart when you looked as you did: red-faced, sweating, panting and gasping for air as you felt him all the way up in your stomach. “I can’t.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Why?” He didn’t answer at first, hoping you’d drop this crusade. But you were determined to get what you wanted and so, you stopped moving. “Why?”

“Little lamb, move.”

“Why?”

He lifted your hips a little more and tried to thrust into you, but you fought against him. “For fuck sake!” He sat up, his nose mere centimetres from yours, his eyes burning with anger and lust, pupils blown so far out the colour had disappeared entirely. His hand moved to the back of your head and pulled at the roots of your hair, lips brushing against your neck as he spoke, “Because you are divine. Move, please.” When he lay back down you picked the pace back up exactly how you did before you stopped, working towards your orgasm. His eyes remained on you the whole time. “You want me to tell you how sinful you are, hm? How much of a bad girl you are for defying your Lord?”

“Yes!”

“I won’t. I won’t use the same words that they do. Fucking shit! I can’t use those words when Lilith herself blessed you with ethereal beauty. When she placed her most beautiful creation on this Earth to walk amongst the mortals; art amongst the rats. I will not degrade one who was made to conquer men.”

You were breathless, both from the exertion and his words. “I c-conquered you?”

“Body, mind, soul,” he gripped hold of your hand and pulled it to his rest on chest, “and heart.” Your eyes met his in surprise, and your body shook as though electricity was running through it. “Conquered and enslaved. I will forever be yours, and worship you like the goddess you are.”

His large hand that had completely covered yours moved up your arm and began to rub both of his around your body, gripping onto pieces and stroking gently.

“Secondo!”

By the way your walls were fluttering around him, he knew you were almost at your peak. “Cum for me, little lamb. Bless me with your holy water.”

This orgasm was much more intense than your first, your body shaking and your eyes glazing over. Your back arched as it washed over you, your fingers digging into his arms and leaving half-moon prints in his skin. “Fuck!” You screamed softly, like your body had just been plunged into cold water.

“That’s it. That’s right. Give it to me.”

“Secondo! Oh my God!”

He pushed you off his cock and put you on the bed beside him, turning you to lie flat on your stomach. Your hips were lifted just enough for a pillow to sit below you, then you felt him mount you from behind, draping his entire body over you. His lips found their way to your ear as his cock lined up with your hole once more. “Your God doesn’t deserve you.” He told you as he entered you again, pressing you against the mattress. His hand found yours and interlocked his fingers with yours as he began to thrust into you, moving at a similar pace to when he usually fucked you. Hard, fast, dirty. But this time there was something new, something tender in the way he touched you, the way his other hand rested atop your hip.

“I will forever get on my knees for you,” he told you between grunts, “and worship between these hallowed walls.” He kissed your shoulder blades. “I will thank you for all that you give me. I am yours.”

“I’m yours, Secondo.” You turned your head to capture his lips and give him a deep kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his cock continued to slide in and out of your tight, wet heat.

He surrounded you, every inch of his body running against yours and trapping you between him and the mattress in a way you’d never felt before - making you feel safe. His words told you that you were loved, despite the violent speed they ran through your head as he occupied every inch of your mind. His scent, woody and musky, filled your nose. His grunts and growls swallowed by your mouth in your unbroken, needy kiss. He loved you. He’d risen to catch you as you’d fallen for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered. God and Satan be damned. They’d ruled your lives too much, you both deserved this.

“Cum for me.” You whispered into his lips. “Give it to me, give me everything.”

“Where can I cum?”

“Inside me. I wanna feel you inside me.”

“Fucking hell!”

His hips snapped faster and more erratically until eventually he pushed himself as far as he could inside you, painting your walls with his cum. His eyes were tightly shut and a growl escaped him. He could feel his heart in his throat. His fingers tightened around yours when he came, gripping onto you and never wanting to let go.

As he came down from his high, he peppered your skin with kisses, black Cardinal paints very much wiped away at this point and his body exhausted from the exertion. He stayed inside you, softening with each passing second but not wanting to leave the warmth of your body just yet. You didn’t want him to, either. But it had to happen eventually. He rolled off you, but kept his hand on your hip as he did and rolled you with him, wrapping you up in his capable arms and holding you close.

The later into the night it got, he knew he’d have to leave the Vatican and wait to see you for who knew how long, and that thought hurt him more than he could possibly. He did everything he could to commit you to memory; how you looked, felt, smelled. He needed something to see him through until the next time you managed to see him. And so, he held you close, doing his best to fight off sleep.

That was until your voice broke the silence. “How would the Ministry feel if I left with you tonight?”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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brighteyedbushybrowed · 8 months

Note

👀 I see your requests are open again,,, I've been dying to ask for some ~spicy~ headcanons of the Papas showering/bathing with their S/O ? Thank you!

I also hope you are feeling better, stay strong tummy ache survivor ❤️

Spicy, you say? Heheheh *starts rubbing hands gleefully* spicy is what we shall have Also, ty!!! I'm feeling much better now than I was so I think it's safe to say my flare up has passed at this point. Whether I've jinxed that by saying this or not is get to be seen. As always, because of this containing spicy content I ask that minors DNI and please respect that boundary. I'm not responsible for what you consume, but YOU are responsible for respecting boundaries and not interacting with adults in adult spaces

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

Primo I think is more of a bath guy than a shower guy if you both wanna get intimate in the bathroom

For him, seeing you hovering above him as you straddle him in the tub is the closest to a divine image that he'll ever see in this lifetime

Doesn't go water-sloshingly hard when he thrusts up into you, but it'll be hard enough to send you crashing into his chest if you're not prepared for it

He likes to take it slow with drawn out kisses and little bites of your lip

When you're both done and sated, he will also take his time washing your hair and body

He'll massage every inch of you and he won't stop until you're practically melting into the water

Whenever you both do decide to shower instead of have a bath, he's the first to get down on his knees and ravish you

Doesn't give a shit if it hurts his back or his knees. He always says that pleasure and pain are bedfellows and seeing you fall apart for him makes any pain in his back or knees worth it

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

Absolute shower man

His favourite thing to do with you in the shower is to wash your hair and once the conditioner is in, he leaves it in while he gets down on his knees and has you bend over and spread yourself so he can get a taste

And he won't be stopping until he makes you climax at least twice

Not fussy about whether he rims you or performs oral on your sex, he's an oral fiend and the echoes of the noises he pulls from you are just as beautiful as the harmonious chorus of the unholy choir during Mass

When he's satisfied and he's finished washing your hair, he'll be desperate to slip inside you from behind

He likes it hard and fast, pushing your torso up against the shower wall with a hand around your throat

And when you think he's finally finished and you're getting out of the shower?

He makes you get on your knees and clean his length with your mouth. Only then will you be done

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

The opposite of Secondo in terms of pace

Just as in the bedroom, in the shower Terzo is slow, sensual, gentle, leaves you begging for more

He uses his strength to lift you up and wrap your legs around his hips, thrusting into you against the shower wall as the hot spray of water rains down on you both

Lots of neck kisses and hickeys scattered along your collar and shoulders

Will say the filthiest things into your ear, both to tease you and drive you closer towards your end

You end up having to wash yourselves for a second time because of the mess he makes of the two of you

Expect not to leave the bathroom until your skin is all prune-y

And if you want to get Terzo to make lots of noise, go down on him with one of his legs thrown over your shoulder and call him your "good girl". He'll be cumming in seconds

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

You're going to have to take the lead with him

Always the worrier, Copia is worried that he'll drop you if he tries to lift you in the shower

So naturally he's a little more comfortable with bath sex than shower sex

If you take the more dominant role with him, tell him what you want and what to do, he's like an obedient little pet

Tell him as such and he'll be even more eager to please

Spends a lot of time with his head between your legs. Much like Secondo, he's incredibly thorough with oral

Stroke his hair, pull it to direct him where you want him most, drag your nails down your back, it all gets him moaning and aching for you

It's a good thing he has stamina, because the needy, salacious sounds he lets out are far too pretty for just one round

402 notes · View notes

bupia · 7 months

Note

15, 18, 27 Secondo 😨

ANGRY SEX

"Show me how you do it when you touch yourself." "I can't wait to take your innocence." "You're doing so well."

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

— This is the part 2 from GLOVE KINK.

(AFAB!reader: ROUGH SEX!!!! oral sex, m-afab; A LOT OF dirty talk; unprotected sex, p in v; a bit of ass slapping; cum swallow; Secondo calls you as a slut)

Day 11 | Day 13

Available on AO3

"Did you hear me, tesoro?" Secondo asked. "On the table, now."

"I... I did, Papa, but I..."

Secondo silenced you with a finger on your lips, and you could taste yourself on his glove. "Are you saying no?"

"No..."

Secondo grunted disapprovingly, lowering his head and looking at you with a stern gaze. "È no o sì, tesoro?"

"Yes..."

"So, lie down on the table," he said, holding you by your hips and pulling you closer to him. "And let me continue with my sermon, sì?"

You nodded and complied, sitting on the edge of the table and watching him. Secondo took a step closer with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I thought I told you to lie down, tesoro," his hand went to your chest, gently laying you on the table. "Don't disobey your Papa."

"I'm sorry, Papa."

Secondo grunted as he looked at you. "What's the issue? You're becoming shy again, I thought we'd moved past that."

It wasn't shyness that was bothering you now. The nervousness was about what lay ahead, a situation you hadn't anticipated. You never thought that Secondo, your Papa, the Papa Emeritus II, would want to have you like this.

"What's on your mind, tesoro? Tell me," he whispered, lowering his body to stay face to face with you. "Not a long ago you were moaning like a good slut that you are, so what's the problem now?"

"I'm just a little bit nervous, Papa. I'm sorry," you replied honestly. "I'm feeling this way because I never imagined this could actually happen."

"What do you mean?" Secondo asked, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Are you saying that you don't want it to happen?"

"No, no! Of course not! I want it to happen!" you exclaimed.

"Then why are you so nervous, tesoro?"

"Because... because..." you stammered, trying to find the words to explain yourself. "Because I've never done anything like this before."

"But you've been fucked before, sì?" he arched a brow.

"Yes, but... this is different, Papa," you said, sighing.

"Different how?"

"You're our Papa, and I don't want to disappoint you," you whispered. "I'm afraid you are not going to be happy if I don't satisfy you."

"You are right, I won't be happy if I'm not satisfied," he said with a grin. "But I'm sure your tight pussy will take me very well, and as I said before, I can't wait to take your innocence. So be a good slut, and spread your legs for your Papa."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you blushed, but you did as he asked, spreading your legs wide open. Secondo smiled as he straightened his body and knelt before you. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your clit, running his tongue along it. His hands reached out and grabbed your thighs, squeezing them tightly. He began licking your clit more aggressively, flicking his tongue against it. You gasped as he continued licking you, moving from side to side.

"Bellissima," he whispered as he gaze upon your core. "Your cunt is so hot, tesoro. You still so wet, sì?"

He then opened your flesh with his fingers, exposing your entrance. He ran his tongue over your clit, making you moan loudly. You felt his mouth close around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. He licked your clit again, and then sucked it into his mouth. You cried out in pleasure, your head thrashing from side to side as he worked over your sensitive clit.

"Yes... Yes, Papa. Just like that, yes..."

"You are wet enough to make me harder. I want to fuck you so bad, tesoro," he leaned back, looking at you with a devilish look in his eye. "So tell me, tesoro, what do you want?"

"I want to feel your cock inside of me, Papa. I want to feel you cum deep inside of me," you replied biting your lips.

"You will get what you want. I promise you that," he kissed you once more and then leaned over, positioning himself at your entrance. "I have to warn you, tesoro, I'm going to be very rough with you. I'm going to use every inch of my cock until you scream for mercy. Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, Papa," you nodded.

Secondo pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. He was big, much bigger than you thought. You felt stretched to your limit, but you wanted him inside you.

"Fuck! Oh- Papa... So big..." you moaned reaching for his shoulders, holding them tight.

"Oh... sì, tesoro, you are so tight... I love it," he growled. "But I'm still a little disappointed in how hesitant you were to take your Papa's cock, so I'm going to fuck you like a slut, tesoro. I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop or for more."

He gave you a wink and began thrusting into you hard and fast. At each thrust, he pushed your body onto the table. The sounds of the skin lapping filled the room, along with your moans. Secondo looked down at you with a smile on his face. Secondo growled with pleasure, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He continued pound you, he was hitting all the right spots, driving you crazy with pleasure. You were moaning loudly, begging for more.

Secondo slowly down for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath. "I'm going to fuck your tight cunt like the slut you are," Secondo whispered, locking his gaze with yours. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that I may break something inside you, do you want that, amore?"

With that, he began thrusting into you again, pounding you hard. You screamed out in ecstasy, your body rocking back and forth. He was slamming his length into you with all his might. The table shook violently from the force of his thrusts. Secondo was relentless, never slowing down. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you. Secondo leaned forwards and bit your nipple.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" you cried out, closing your eyes. "Yes, Papa, fuck me, fuck me harder, yes!"

Secondo grunted as he kept thrusting into you. "Ah! Yes! Perfetto, tesoro, moan for your Papa to fuck you, you're doing so well," he groaned. "You're so tight! So wet! I love fucking you, you're making me so hard."

You arched your back, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding for dear life. Hi hips slamming against you, driving you wild. You opened your eyes and looked at him, biting your lower lip. Secondo was sweating profusely, and his paint was getting all smudge in every inch of his face contorted with pleasure. He looked at you with such intensity, you could see the fire burning behind his eyes.

"Papa... If you... Ah! You are going... You are going to make me cum... Please, Papa... Ah-!"

"Will you, tesoro? Will you give to your Papa your orgasm again?" he grinned devilishly.

You felt like you were about to explode, his member was twitching inside you, sending waved of pleasure through your body. His breathing became labored. He pulled out of you suddenly, causing you to gasp. Secondo climbed up your body, kissing you passionately. His hands roamed all over your body, touching you everywhere. He bit your neck, gently, causing you to moan loud.

You purred, and your hands rested on his head. "Mmm... Papa..."

"Beg," he whispered.

"What?"

"Beg for me to fuck you," he said, biting your neck again.

"Please, Papa..." you whispered, turning your face to his, locking your eyes with his. "Fuck me."

"More," he whispered back, biting your lower lip, pulling it to him.

"Please, Papa, fuck me," you whispered, brushing your lips against his. "Fuck me, make me yours, I want your cock inside."

He hummed in pleasure, licking your lips. "Again."

You reached for his hardness, stroking it lazily. "Please, Papa. Fuck me with your big cock, make me cum, make me scream, make me dumb for your cock."

"Merda... you're such a good slut," he growled husky.

He got back between your legs, grabbing them, lifting them up so that they rested on his shoulders. He slid back into you, this time faster and harder than before. Your body rocking back and forth on the table once again. Secondo's gloved hands gripped your thighs tightly, afraid that you would fall off the table, you could feel his nails through the fabric digging into your skin. He pounded you mercilessly.

"A-Aah! Papa, fuck me! I'm yours, I'm all yours, fuck me," you moaned louder.

He leaned in, biting your neck softly, adding one more mark on it. He left his head close to yours, grunting louder and louder, sweat dripping off of him. He pulled out and turned you to lay on your belly, he slammed his member inside you again, slapping your ass hard, leaving a red handprint on your skin. You cried out in pain, but it only made him thrust harder. He kept slapping your ass as he drove his length into you.

"Oh- Oh-Oh, Papa... Oh-!!" you felt like you didn't have any control anymore of your thoughts, you were in ecstasy with the feeling of him inside you. "Ah- Ah! Pap-Ah! Please, more, more!"

"More, tesoro? More? You want more from my cock? Good slut, begging for your Papa's cock," he said, his tone low and husky.

Secondo leaned over you, kissing your shoulders and back. His hand moved down your body, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him. He picked up speed, digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving marks all over your body. He pulled out, and you cried out in disappointment. Secondo chuckled and thrust back into you.

"Please, Papa... I need to cum... Please... make me cum, please, please," you whimpered.

Secondo kept thrusting you hard and fast, never letting up. His member was already covered in your juices, and you could feel the heat radiating off of it. He felt so good inside you, you wanted him to stay there forever, but you knew that wasn't possible. With each thrust you felt your orgasm building up inside you, you started to moan louder as he pounded deeper into you one last time, causing you to scream out in pleasure , throwing your head back as your orgasm washed over you.

"Pap-AaAah!" your voice quivered with pleasure as you came. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I'm cumming, Papa, I'm cumming!"

Secondo held you tightly as you came, never stopping his moves. His thrusts became slower, and you felt him tense up. His thrusts became shorter and quicker. He pulled out of you, and you sighed contentedly, gasping for air.

"Now make your Papa cum," he said as he grabbed his member in his hand, stroking it fast. "Show me how you do it when you touch yourself."

You turned to face him, laying on your back on the table, breathing heavily. You spread your legs wide open, seeing the desire in his eyes. You stuck two fingers into your mouth and sucked them, causing him to moan. You went with your fingers to between your legs, rubbing them against your clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs.

"Sì, amore, just like that, sì, touch yourself for me," he was breathing heavy, as he watched you.

You moved your hand up and down on your wetness, then slowly inserted one finger into you. You added another finger, then another, moving it in and out, leaving them wet and slippery. His eyes were glued to your fingers as they moved in and out of your entrance.

"Cazzo! That's it tesoro, I'm close, keep going," he pushed your legs apart, so he could see better. "Don't stop, fuck your tight pussy for me, tesoro, sì, sì!"

You were pumping your fingers in and out of you, biting your lower lip. You saw his member throbbing in his hands and went deeper inside you, screaming. Secondo kept stroking his hardness, going faster and faster, and then he shot loads of his seed on your stomach, screaming with desire.

"Merda! Cazzo! Tesoro, Oh- Sì!" he groaned, closing his eyes, tightly.

He let go of his member and braced his hands on the edge of the table, his breath coming heavily. You smiled as you watched him, your hand going to your stomach cleaning his seed with your fingers. You brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them. You sat on the table, positioning him between your legs. You reached for his face, drawing it near and planting a gentle kiss on his lips, making him taste himself on your mouth. He responded by enfolding his arms around you, pulling you closer to him.

"Thank you for my sermon, Papa," you whispered with your lips against his, seeing his eyes get filled with lust once again and a mischievous grin growing on his lips.

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deetz-ghuleh · 6 months

Text

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. :) ✦

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a-fools-circus · 6 months

Text

Salacious Want

Papa II/f!Reader

Desc: after confessing to Secondo how you've spent your time alone, he makes sure you know that the only person allowed to touch you is him Word Count: 6.3k Tags/Warnings: bondage, bdsm, impact play, degredation, edging/orgasm delay/denial, rough sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, choking, dom/sub, ownership, creampie, aftercare, bc aftercare is important and i want to showcase that i think Secondo fits the duality of being both a rough dom and a tender loving dom, please note that there is one moment when the reader claims to be overwhelmed, but every moment of sex beforehand and afterwards is consensual with both participants willing

this was originally intended to be a fic for Kinktober. obviously that didn't end up working out, BUT i still wanted to write this bc i liked the idea, and i've yet to give Secondo some love so here it is ! this ended up being very fun to write and way longer than intended so i think it's a win. Secondo stans i'm starting to understand you. enjoy babes <3

also available to read on ao3 here

Minors DNI/NSFW below the cut

It was only a few hours ago when you were sat in the shadowed corner of the confession booth. The only thing separating your figure from Secondo’s was the wooden lattice in the center.

Secondo had been preoccupied with his responsibilities all day. It wasn’t his fault—the workload came with his status as Papa. You didn’t blame him for it, and he was adamant to remind you that he would rather spend his time with you. But you were left on your own. You had to sate your desires—by yourself—in private whenever you had the time. It was boring after the second or third time. Your own touch wasn’t nearly the same as his.

You knew the risks that came with teasing him (most of which would come from him), but the opportunity presented itself perfectly when you realized that he would be hosting confession. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to do something to coerce him, to convince him to focus on you instead. Taunting him with the knowledge that he missed out on your pleasure seemed like the perfect way to rile him up.

Armed with your knowledge, you taunted him from your shadowed corner of the booth, detailing every aspect of your indulgence. Every sound you made, every fantasy that crossed your mind, every part of yourself that you touched—it all came forward in your own kind of confession.

Secondo was good at appearing disinterested. Annoyingly good. You could get on your knees and beg for an hour straight, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He knew he could make you do whatever he wanted when you were desperate to be touched, and he used it to his advantage often.

But his silence from the other side of the confessional was more than feigned disinterest. You could practically feel the disapproval radiating through the lattice, somehow knowing he was staring with that stern gaze he only gave you. He was most intimidating when he was silent, but it was even more nerve-wracking not to be able to see his reaction.

You made it worse by reminding him of his responsibilities; he had to continue carrying out the rest of confession for the following Siblings. You made your way out, leaving him to stew in his frustration as he was forced to ignore the aching arousal between his legs. That was the nail in the coffin.

Once time granted him respite from his duties, he wasted no time finding you.

Now you were sat on your knees on his bed, bent over with your face in his silken sheets. You were completely bare except for the collar around your neck and the restraints that bound your arms behind your back. You were placed near the edge of the bed, instructed to “keep your ass in the air and stay still.”

You couldn’t see Secondo, but you could sense his steely gaze scanning every inch of your body as he stood behind you. There was no doubt he could see how wet you were; after what felt like hours of sitting here bound, you were getting desperate.

The click of his shoes on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room. Every echo of the sound makes you throb, your holes clenching around nothing. You’re sure that sight is obvious to him, too. But he says nothing as he looks over your restrained body. The anticipation in the air is thick, heavy on your mind as you wait for him to do or say something—anything.

After what felt like an hour of staring, he finally reached a hand out to brush over your thigh. The cool texture of his leather glove surprises you. Secondo’s touch is featherlight, barely grazing your body as it slowly trails inward. His pace is maddening, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

The trail of his hand stops when his fingers hover daringly close to the spot he knows you need him most. The space beside you on the mattress sinks as his knee comes to rest there. Secondo leans over you, still barely touching your skin.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Your senses heighten as the sound of his voice finally caresses your eardrums. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

He’d discarded his regalia at this point, now wearing only the black turtleneck and dress pants he sported underneath. Just the sight of him made you want to pounce on him and make up for lost time. But you contained your impulses, humoring his demands as the threat of his dominance made you ache.

You swallow hard. The face paint he hadn’t bothered to clean off only made him look more intimidating. “You,” you whisper back to him. “You, Papa.”

“Mm. Bene…” His husky-toned affirmation almost makes you whine. “Then why did you touch it without permission?”

Secondo’s words catch you off guard at first. You start to speak, a tiny squeak leaving your mouth, but the words fail to form. You look away in embarrassment. Your eyes catch on the obvious bulge that strains against the front of his pants.

Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging firmly until your shoulders rise off of the mattress. Secondo leans in further, his breath warm against your ear. The scent of patchouli and tobacco floods your nostrils. “You will answer when I ask you a question, yes?” He growls, the sound of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You swallow hard, eyes fluttering shut at the pain on your scalp. “Yes, Papa—”

“Look at me.” You do exactly as he says, your body thrumming with desire as your eyes flicker up to meet his. “Why did you touch yourself without Papa’s permission?”

“Because, I…I was desperate, Papa.” Your heart pounds in your chest at your confession. Judging by the way he scoffs, you assume your response isn’t satisfactory.

“Desperate?” Secondo echoes. You nod in agreement. “What, desperate to make yourself cum just so you can tell me what a disobedient, needy whore you are?” The leather of his gloves squeaks as Secondo tightens his grip.

The degrading term sends a surge of arousal through you. The sensation is only heightened by his grip on your hair. “No, no, Papa…I…I just wanted to be touched. I really, really needed it.”

“Oh, is that it, piccolina? You just needed to be touched?” You nod fervently, humming a small “mm-hmm” in reply despite the blatant mockery in his tone. “Perhaps I should remind you how you taunted me, then. The way you told me how hot and wet you were when you fucked yourself? How you came so quickly by your own hand?”

Secondo punctuates his annoyance with another firm tug on your hair. You whine, hissing slightly at the soreness in your neck. “I…I didn’t mean it, Papa,” you manage to choke out. “I just…wanted you to know how much I missed you…How much I need you.”

“It sounds to me that the only thing you ‘need’ is a lesson in restraint, sì?”

A whine rumbles in your throat at his suggestion. You want to fight back, to argue and prove your point, but that would only garner more punishment. You nod in response before realizing your muteness is unsatisfactory. “Yes, Papa.”

Secondo releases your hair and you fall forward, your face planting into the sheets. He rises off of the bed to return to his place behind you. His hands run teasingly over your body with gentle brushes that give you goosebumps. A shiver runs down your spine as his hands move further down.

You barely feel two of his fingers glide through your slit, your wet arousal gathering on his digits. You don’t know when he removed his glove, but you relish in the warmth of his bare hand instead of the cool leather. Your hips roll towards his touch in an attempt to gain any of the friction he seems to deny you. Your wrists twist in their restraints. His fingers spread you open to reveal your entrance.

“Look how wet you are,” he taunts. The leash attached to your collar rustles before being pulled taut. Your head jerks back, your shoulders lifting off of the bed as your back arches. You can feel Secondo’s cock—hard and straining against his pants—as he presses against you. “Open.” You hear him growl.

The demand sends a wave of heat through you. You comply, but you’re barely able to part your lips before his hand moves away from your cunt and his fingers force their way down your throat. You fight off the urge to choke in order to remain obediently willing.

“You wished to show me how much you needed me, sì?” You nod, humming around his fingers. “Show me, then. Take my hand like you would take my cock.”

You eagerly heed Secondo’s words. Your mouth sucks and licks his fingers with enthusiasm, savoring the taste of your own arousal as it coats your tongue. You ignore the way your body aches from the awkward position he’s contorted you in. Saliva seeps from your lips and dribbles down your chin, escaping you as you swirl your tongue around his digits the same way you do with his cock.

“Greedy little mouth…” Secondo growls as he watches you intently. His hand stays firmly enveloped in your mouth as he presses his body against yours. You groan around his fingers when you feel his cock press against your ass. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself, pretending my cock is down your throat. You look so desperate.”

You shift on the bed, trying to clench your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction at the sound of his degrading tone. Secondo notices immediately. His hand slides out of your mouth, not caring that strands of saliva spill from your wet lips, and delivers a harsh smack to the swell of your ass. The sound echoes in the room. The sudden sting makes you cry out, your eyes widening in surprise.

A firm tug on the leash makes you choke momentarily. “Keep your legs spread,” Secondo growls, his hand reaching down to tug at your thigh and force your legs apart while the other pulls the leash taut. “If you can’t be good, you aren’t getting touched.”

Your hands tug at their restraints, fists clenching with frustration. “I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll be good, I promise. Please touch me, please.” Your words come out in a flurry, rushed and desperate, as you pant for breath.

Secondo’s hand releases the leash, allowing you to fall forward again. His hand immediately snakes around your waist to land on the space between your thighs. Saliva-wettened fingers land on your clit and swirl in agonizingly slow circles. Your breath catches in your throat, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. Your hips jerk into his hand as a silent encouragement.

Another sudden spank takes your breath away. His hand stops its movements and you whine. “Stay still. You’ll only take what I give you, sì?”

You nod, sighing dejectedly. “Yes, Papa.”

It takes all of your strength to keep your hips in place and resist the urge to grind into his hand when he continues to swirl his fingers. Your thighs tense and your mouth falls open with whimpers and moans.

Secondo barely increases his pace at the sound of your pleasure. Your hands ball into fists in their restraints, a low groan ripping from your throat. You curse, desperately using every ounce of control to keep your hips still.

“Mia piccola puttana…she can be good when she wants to be, hmm?” He tilts his head, watching your pleasure-contorted features. His hand speeds up slightly and you gasp.

“Yes…Papa…Fuck…”

“She likes it, doesn’t she?”

“Yes…Yes, Papa, I like it…” Warmth pools in your abdomen, winding tighter with each swirl of his fingers. Your thighs begin to shake as you lose the battle of staying still. Your hips thrust desperately forward, eager to hit the orgasm that lingers so close to fruition. “Please, Papa. It feels so good…fuck..!”

Secondo pulls his hand away mere seconds before the warmth spills over. You cry out, a high-pitched whine ripping from your throat as your orgasm slowly dissipates. Your hips buck forward as if trying to chase his touch.

“Why did you—?”

“You don’t deserve to cum yet.” His voice is stern, leaving no room for argument no matter how badly you want to. “Poverina…you did not think I would give you what you want that easily, did you?” Your lips part to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. “Such a greedy whore…you made yourself cum and you think you deserve it by my hand?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You whine, grinding your ass against him in a silent plea. The roll of your hips is slow as you feel the outline of his rigid length through his pants.

Another harsh slap comes down on the swell of your ass. You gasp, the sting coursing through you and halting your movements. “Now you think you deserve my cock?” Secondo’s grip digs into the skin of your hips as he accuses you, his grasp so tight you can almost feel the bruises begin to form.

“No, no, Papa. I don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He taunts. His hand massages the red handprint blooming on your ass, soothing the lingering sting. “Are you going to start being good for Papa?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Bene…” He gropes your ass, the tight grip making the welts forming on your skin sting. “Now be a good girl and ask for it. Nicely.”

“Please, Papa…I want you to touch me. Please touch me.”

Secondo scoffs at your plea. “Now I know you can beg better than that.”

A whine builds in your throat, but you swallow hard to contain it. “Please, please, please, Papa. Please touch me. I need it so fucking bad.” You pant. “I need you. I need your touch. Please.”

Without warning, two fingers push past your entrance and stretch you open. You gasp at the sensation, cursing as Secondo pumps his fingers at an unrelenting pace that gives you no time to adjust or savor the feeling. Your nails dig into your palms as you whine at each thrust of his hand.

“Fuck! Yes, yes…” You cry out, your cunt throbbing around his fingers. “Thank you, Papa. Fuck me…”

Secondo’s other hand holds you in place, gripping your hip so tight you think it’ll leave bruises. His fingers curl, searching for that sweet spot that’ll leave you crying out. As soon as he hits it, you curse in a loud gasp, your back arching to push your hips into his touch. He massages the spot with each pump of his hand, sending waves of pleasure through you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck, Papa! Yes, yes, yes. Right there. Right there.” Your moans fill the room, your cries reverberating off the ornate walls. Each plea is louder than the last. Your arms tug at their restraints, your hands flexing, desperate to hold on to something, anything.

Secondo groans, his voice husky. “Desperate whore, all worked up by my hand. You love it, don’t you?” You nod and mutter a small “mm-hmm”, too overwhelmed with his pace to form a proper response. “Fottuta troia,” he growls, taking a fistful of your hair and tugging until your shoulders lift off the bed. He leans over you, his fingers still pumping with their unwaveringly strong pace. “You answer your Papa, sì?”

You wince, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure that courses through you. “Yes, Papa. I…fuck—I’m sorry, Papa,” you manage to squeak out between moans.

“Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good my hand feels.”

“It feels…so fucking good, Papa,” you whine. Your words aren’t enough, evident by the way he tugs on your hair again for encouragement. His lack of response has you on edge. “You fuck me so good. I-I love the way your hand feels in my pussy.”

The tight grip on your hair is unrelenting. The awkward position you’re held in makes your back sore, but the pleasure granted to you overrides any discomfort. Warmth builds in your abdomen yet again, swirling and coiling with the need for release. Your thighs tense, your walls tightening around his fingers as your pants grow quick and loud.

“Oh, fuck…I’m…P-please…” Your voice quivers as you beg. “Please, Papa, can I cum this time?”

Secondo nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Oh, dolcezza,” his words seem sweet, but you recognize the mocking in his tone. “Asking like that, you almost have me convinced.” His fingers pull out of you, a wet, squelching noise accompanying their retreat. “Almost.”

The whine that escapes you is even louder, even more desperate than before. “No, Papa…why did you…” You stammer and whine, unable to form a complete sentence. You almost feel like you could cry as the coil of warmth slowly dissipates. He releases your hair, a grunt escaping you as you fall forward onto the mattress and he moves away. “Please touch me again, I can’t…I need to cum.” Your hips roll in the air, desperate for some form of contact.

“You need it?” You hear him echo, almost as if he’s mocking your plea.

You nod your head and hum a small “mm-hmm” with a whine. “Yes, Papa, I need it. I need to cum so fucking bad.” You shiver when you feel his fingertips reconnect with your heat for just a moment, barely grazing over your folds. “Please, just keep fucking me. I was so close, I—”

Secondo cuts you off with a harsh spank, the sound echoing in the room. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, dragging you backward until your ass is flush against his body. And his achingly hard cock that strains behind his pants.

“Greedy whore thinks she deserves to cum already…” He mutters as his hands trace the swell of your ass.

“No…no, Papa, I didn’t mean that…” You pant, your breath heavy. “I just…fuck, I want it so bad. Please…”

He goes silent as his hands continue to trace gently over your skin. The silence heightens both your nerves and your desperation. Finally, his gruff voice breaks the silence. “Tell me again, cara: who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Papa.”

“Bene.” He presses his body more firmly against you. A quiet whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of his cock so close yet trapped beneath layers. “This pussy is mine. Mine to use and fuck whenever I feel like it.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Say it.”

“My…my pussy is yours, Papa. Yours to use, yours to fuck.” You swear you feel his cock throb behind his pants.

His torso presses against your restrained wrists as Secondo leans over you. If you weren’t so afraid of being punished and denied any longer, you’d grab ahold of his shirt and tug him closer. His hands move to your hips, where his nails dig into your skin. “You cum when I tell you to. When I decide you deserve it.” His voice is a sultry whisper, like a smooth velvet that wraps around your senses. It makes you want to forget about your own desires.

You nod, sighing at his words. “Yes, Papa.”

“If you pull another stunt like that—taunting me with your impatience—I’ll tie you up and make sure you don’t cum for hours. Do you understand?”

The thought makes you shiver in a mixture of arousal and fear. You swallow hard, nodding your head again. “Y-yes Papa…”

“Are you going to be good for Papa?” His hips roll against you, and while the friction isn’t stimulating for you, it makes you gasp nonetheless.

“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, Papa. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“No more touching yourself without Papa’s permission, sì?”

“Yes, Papa.”

His hands squeeze your hips, but the gesture is more playful than painful. “Molto bene.”

Secondo ruts against you, dragging the bulge in his pants along the curve of your ass. He groans before moving to grind against your slick heat. The wetness of your arousal seeps through and stains the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

One of his hands slides up the arch of your back, avoiding your restrained wrists and caressing your spine. “You want Papa’s cock, sì?”

“Yes. Yes…please, Papa,” you whine breathlessly.

His other hand trails down your hip and over the swell of your ass before groping you firmly. His grasp is rough, making the welts that have formed from his spanks sting. “Beg for it, puttana.”

You sigh in frustration at his words. “Please, Papa. Please put your cock in me.” You fight with every ounce of restraint to keep your hips still. You want nothing more than to rub and bounce your ass against him, to hear him groan and curse at the friction. But you know doing so would earn you another punishment. “I want it—I need it—so fucking bad. Please, please.”

Secondo leans away from your body. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yearning harder for him. “She needs it, she says…” You hear him mock you as the faint sound of a zipper catches your attention.

You groan at the familiar feeling of his cock as the rigid and warm flesh lands on your ass. Secondo wraps one hand around the base, his other hand gripping your hip as he guides his cock to the space between your legs. He barely brushes against you, only allowing enough contact to cover himself in your slick arousal. The light friction makes you whine.

It’s not until you feel the head of his cock rub against your swollen, neglected clit that you stop whining and start panting. It’s even harder to stay still, especially when his pace is so languidly slow.

Your toes curl with strain. “Papa, please…I can’t…I can’t wait anymore…”

Another harsh spank comes down on your ass, making you hiss. “You can, and you will.” He growls. “Be good.” He continues the light and gentle grinding, his hands moving to rest on your ass and spread you open for his viewing pleasure. “Sathanas,” he curses, the sound making you throb and clench around nothing, which he certainly notices. “Così bagnato per me...you are a desperate little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Papa.” Your nails dig into your palms as your body tenses in anticipation. “Please give it to me.”

He slides his cock along your folds, moving back and forth in long, sensual strokes. He pulls back to guide the head of his cock to sit at your entrance and grazes it teasingly, never pushing forward with enough force to enter you. You know he’s savoring the way you whimper and squirm. You groan, the sound turning into a whine.

“Please, Papa…” Your voice is breathless at this point, so desperate you could cry. “Please, please, I can’t wait anym—Ah!”

You’re cut off by his sudden, forceful thrust forward as he buries himself inside you with one movement. The stretch of your walls stings, making you hiss and curse. Your wrists tug at their restraints and your thighs go tense as he immediately starts a rough and unrelenting pace, giving you no time to acclimate to his intrusion.

Each thrust is met with one of your loud and desperate moans. Secondo runs his hands over the curve of your hips, his thumbs rubbing gently over your skin in a manner that completely opposes his rough movements. He groans, the sound sending heat to your core, and you feel him lean over your body.

The leash suddenly goes taut. Your head is lifted off of the mattress, strangling your moans as they leave your mouth. “This is what you wanted, sì?” He growls into your ear, punctuating his question with a set of firm thrusts. “To be fucked hard and rough like the whore you are?”

“Yes! Fuck…fuck, yes…” You cry out, voice strained against the collar around your throat. “Thank you, Papa, thank you…Lucifer below, it feels…so good…”

He leans back and pulls the leash with him. His free hand holds your hip tight, his grip strong enough to make you ache. He groans, cursing something in Italian under his breath, before spanking you again. Your walls flutter around him at the pain. “Dillo di nuovo. Tell Papa how good his cock feels.” His voice is low and rough, practically a growl, as he pounds into you.

“Your cock feels so fucking good, Papa…” Your eyes flutter shut as your head becomes light. Your moans and whines are guttural, choked out by your collar. “I love it…I love the way you fuck me…Don’t stop, Papa.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on it, puttana.” Secondo punctuates the word with a particularly rough thrust, making you cry out with a strangled moan. “You’re going to cum for me—when I tell you to.”

The room fills with sounds of your pleasure; moans and cries leaving your lips and the repeated, quick slapping of skin against skin. His own groans hit your ears and excite you further. He pounds into you with a relentless rhythm, quick and hard thrusts that make your body tremble under him.

“Papa…I’m gonna—fuck…” You feel your thighs shake, unsteady as the warmth in your abdomen tightens.

“Not yet.” He snaps back. He tugs on the leash again, making your head lighter as air escapes your lungs. “Solo un’altro po…”

It’s almost impossible to hold on any longer. The heat that swirls in your abdomen coils tighter and tighter with each thrust, the impending release crescendoing with no sign of stopping. All you can choke out is a quiet, strained “please” in between his powerful thrusts.

Secondo groans at your tight and wet heat, the sound turning into a slight chuckle that reverberates in your ear as he leans in. “Poverina…you need it, don’t you?” His voice is light and sweet despite the mockery in his tone. You nod before muttering a small “yes, Papa” in return. “Cum for me, tesoro. Cum on Papa’s cock.” He growls in your ear, his pace never wavering.

It takes only a few more of his rough thrusts to send you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is one you didn’t know you could make: a loud and guttural moan built up from constant denial that spills involuntarily from your lips. Your entire body tenses and trembles underneath him as waves of pleasure make you throb and clench around him. His pace never changes, working you through the high until your muscles go lax.

His thrusts slow down until they become slow rolls of his hips against your weak body. He releases the leash, letting your head fall against the mattress with a soft thud. His hands trail over your breasts as he leans to place a small, gentle kiss on your back between your shoulder blades.

“I’ve never heard you make those pretty sounds before.” He mutters against your skin. His hands knead your chest as he continues to roll his hips against you languidly.

A weak smile forms on your face. “I…I told you I was desperate,” you pant between heavy breaths. You groan with each of his thrusts, the leisurely pace doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for—ah—letting me cum…”

His hands trail down your body, his touch tracing your curves before returning to your hips as he leans back. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, dolcezza.”

You barely process his words before he pounds into you again. He wastes no time finding another intense and rough rhythm. Your body tenses as the overstimulation makes you whine, your hands balling into fists as they tug at their restraints. You cry out, your body shaking under the power of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Papa! Shit, shit, shit…”

Secondo’s deep groans fill the air, complimented by the wet sounds of sex. “Merda. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.” One of his hands lands on the small of your back, purposefully avoiding your bound wrists.

Every thrust sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, surges of overstimulating ecstasy that course through every inch of your body. It’s an overwhelming sensation, making every muscle tense and every moan and whimper more desperate than the last. Your noises only spur him on, each pathetic sound met with a powerful thrust that makes you whine louder.

“Papa…fuck, I can’t…it’s too much…” Your knuckles turn white as you ball your hands into fists. The overstimulation hurts, but the pain only adds to the pleasure he gives you. You trust him enough to know he’d drop everything if you were genuinely hurt. But right now, he knew you had no interest in stopping.

The leash suddenly goes taut, your head lifting off of the mattress again at his sudden tug. He spanks you again, your cry strangled by his sharp tug on the leash. “Fucking take it,” you hear him growl. Another spank makes you whine. “You’ll take my cock until I’m done with you, puttana.”

You groan at his words, your back arching into his thrusts. “Y-yes, P-Papa…”

His thrusts turn sharp and quick as he ruts against you. It’s primal and needy—almost animalistic—the way he moves. Each slap of his hips against your ass makes you hiss, the welts left from his hand stinging at every movement. Your body remains tense, every drag of his cock along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Così fottutamente buono...questa figa è perfetta, tesoro…” You can barely hear his low, husky voice over the sound of skin meeting skin. Secondo tugs again on the leash, making you groan as your head jerks back. He leans down until his breath hits your ear. “You’re going to cum again for me, dolcezza.” His tone is clear—his words are a command, not a suggestion. “I want to feel this pussy milk my cock.”

The vulgarity in his words makes you whine. “Yeah…yes, Papa—fuck, I wanna milk your cock dry.”

“Sì, that’s what you want, giusto? You want Papa to cum in you and fill you up?” He growls in your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, Papa, I want your cum…Please, pump me full.” You strain to speak against the tight collar, but your plea is loud and desperate.

You can hear his breathing growing heavier. You can tell he’s getting close. He shoves his cock as deep as he can as his thrusts turn into forceful rolls of his hips as he grinds against you. The friction makes the marks on your ass sting.

Secondo’s free hand snakes around the curve of your hips, wasting no time finding your swollen and aching clit. His fingers swirl in time with each movement of his hips. The rhythmic pace between his deep penetration and the delicious friction of his hand makes you writhe under him.

You curse, your hips jerking wildly into his hand and against his hips, too overstimulated to find a rhythm. “Papa…Papa..!” You cry out and whine as your eyes screw shut.

He knows exactly how to make you tremble, all of the movements that send you closer to the edge and make you melt under his touch. The repeated clenching of your cunt makes him groan and curse.

“Fuck, Papa! I’m gonna…Sathanas, I’m gonna cum again, shit…” You feel your thighs shake and tremble, every muscle in your body tensed as the heat in your abdomen returns, mounting to a high.

Secondo pants, tugging on the leash again. “Dai, dai…cum for me, cum for Papa.”

The dual pleasure leaves you unable to resist, the sensations overwhelming your body. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the last. Your body shakes and your moans turn into whines as the pleasure leaves you overwhelmed. You don’t even notice the few tears that escape as you writhe and tremble. He works you through the high, his hand swirling perfectly against your sensitive core to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He only removes his hand once your whines turn to hisses.

The continuous, rough movements enacted on your overwhelmed body borders on pain. But you know he’s close, evident by his heavy breathing and groans as he pounds into you with the last of his strength. His grip is tight on your hip as the other hand holds your leash taut to keep your body in place.

With one final powerful thrust, Secondo stills as he spills himself into you. You feel every kick and pulse of his cock as he fills you. He groans, growling something in Italian, but you’re too far gone to comprehend it. He releases his grip on the leash, allowing your head to fall to the mattress.

Your body goes lax as he pulls out of you. Both of you grunt at the sensation. A wet squelch fills the air as you whine at the emptiness, too accustomed to his presence despite how overwhelming it feels. Your hips fall flat on the bed as you pant for breath and groan at the soreness in your back.

A wave of relief courses through you as your wrists are released from their restraints. The ache in your shoulders is painfully evident now that you can move freely. You roll onto your side, blinking heavily as you look up to see Secondo’s face.

His paint is smeared in various places, streaked by beads of sweat. His chest heaves with his own heavy breaths. You get the urge to scold him for exerting himself at his age.

He leans over you, reaching down to unfasten the collar around your neck. You instinctively tilt your head to make the process easier. You sigh when the garment is removed, allowing your skin to breathe and give your neck a break. Your eyes are heavy as you watch him place the collar and restraints on the nightstand with care.

Secondo leans down again, running a hand through your hair. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Un momento, bella,” he mutters against your skin before leaning away.

You watch as he walks in the direction of the adjoining bathroom before he disappears past the doorway. A small smile graces your face. It was easy to get intimidated by him, by his steely gaze and guarded demeanor, but he showed you a tenderness that no one else could match.

It was never as evident as it is in these moments. When he walks back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hand, your heart swells. He always takes the time to treat you so gently after sex, especially when it’s rough.

He cleans you carefully, running the washcloth over your flushed skin. He moves you with a sense of care and worship, like you’ll shatter beneath his touch if he isn’t careful. The warmth of the wet fabric is soothing, making you sigh with each stroke. He occasionally leans down to place kisses along your skin.

Once you’re clean, he lays the cloth on the nightstand. You know he’ll retrieve it later, probably after you’ve drifted off to sleep. He guides you to lay against the pillows, helping you move in your sore state. You groan at the aching pain in your body—the sting of your ass, the soreness in your shoulders, the aching of your back. He runs a hand over your thigh, fingers barely grazing your skin as his touch trails over the swell of your ass.

“You’re still red,” Secondo remarks. You feel the slight tingle of discomfort, your skin warm from the welts that have formed. “You must still be sore.”

You can hear the concern in voice, almost as if he regrets what he did. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

You smile at him, at his worry. “Yes, I’m sure.” You extend an arm towards him, beckoning him closer with your hand. “Now come here. I want you to lay with me.”

“Oh, is that right?” He teases. Despite his sarcastic tone, he’s already kicking off his shoes. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. It is. You need your rest too, old man.”

You hear him scoff before he climbs onto the bed and situates himself beside you. “‘Old man’, huh?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your back is flush against his chest. He’s careful to keep distance between your hips so as not to irritate your welted skin. “Stai attento, mia cara. You wouldn’t want another punishment so soon, would you,”

You giggle at his words, laying your hand atop his arm and pulling him closer. You groan as you settle against the bed, attempting to allow your aching body to relax. You feel his arm move away from your waist. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb massaging firm circles into your sore muscles. The gesture makes you smile, your head turning back to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that, Papa.”

“Oh, of course I do,” he responds, his hand working towards your shoulder blades. His lips brush over your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Mia piccola bellezza was so good for her Papa. She deserves to be taken care of.” His lips land on your neck, trailing kisses down to your shoulder. “You’re always so good for Papa,” he mutters between kisses.

He leans in to kiss you, and you turn to meet his movement. The gesture sends sparks through you. You smile against his lips, pressing into his kiss and relishing in the warmth that blooms in your chest.

You don’t know when you fell asleep after that. You laid there, allowing him to tend and care for you however he felt necessary. Not every touch was meant to massage or tend to your sore muscles, but you didn’t care. Just having his hands on your body was enough.

This was how he showed his love to you, and you found nothing but comfort and security in his arms.

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