#papa primo x reader
Text
October 25th
Pregnancy, Papa Emeritus I x Reader
Masterlist
Words: 2.7k.
Warnings: Pregnancy; pregnancy sex; (consensual) groping; cunnilingus (I absolutely did not steal this scene from a previous Primo fic I wrote and change it up slightly, I don’t know what you’re insinuating but it is unappreciated and how very dare you); praise kink (y’all should know me by now); body worship; mild breeding kink; multiple orgasms;
Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog
🔞 MDNI 🔞
If Primo had his way, he would have you bed-ridden and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the Ministry. He wasn’t ever a possessive man, nor was he territorial, yet all that changed when you fell pregnant with his child. He hated members of the Clergy even so much as breathing in your direction, let alone looking at you or, Satan forbid, trying to hold a conversation with you. When other people made a reach for your pregnancy bump, he found himself slapping their hands away with his cane. That you were grateful for.
Apparently all personal space went out the window when you became pregnant, your baby bump was free real estate for strangers to touch without permission apparently. But you were always the bad guy when you told them to back off. You loved that Primo listened when you complained about it, and you were incredibly grateful that he was willing to take on the persona of the gumpy old man if it meant you could get some space.
However, behind closed doors, Primo was almost as bad as the rest of the world when it came to your personal space. He fussed, he worried, but he also groped. He simply could not keep his hands off you. Some of it was innocent, especially when he would come up behind you and gently lift your bump, giving you some respite from the heavy burden you had been carrying for so long. But most of the time his hands were just downright naughty with the places he gripped onto.
Your breasts were a particular favourite of his hands. Your pregnancy had made you grow everywhere, tits and ass included, and he was certainly a huge fan of this. The way you were now multiple cup sizes bigger, heavy with milk for your unborn baby - all maternal and ready to sustain the life you were creating. Not to mention the way you jiggled when you moved, the way your ass wobbled as you wandered around your chambers. He couldn’t help himself most of the time, he just had to have his hands on you.
The particular maternity dress you wore today was really pretty, and comfortable for you especially in the coolness of the Italian autumn. But it was particularly triggering for you partner given it showcased your breasts in the most perfect of ways, and fell over your hips giving you a tempting shape that he simply could not resist. All you were doing was standing there pouring yourself a glass of water. But that was a crime in Primo’s eyes that couldn’t go unpunished.
You felt his wandering hands over your hips, gloved digits stroking the clothed flesh and meandering upwards to cup your heavy breasts. His lips, hidden beneath his thin paint, caressed the back of your neck, tickling your sweet and sensitive spot. You giggled at the sensation, but couldn’t deny the instant arousal that flooded your cunt the second you felt his hands on your body. His arousal evident by the hardness pressed against your lower back, and transferring into you.
“What’s got into you?” You asked, turning your head to look at your partner over your shoulder.
“You look positively delectable, fiorellina.” He complimented, his voice muffled by your skin.
“You do realise we have meetings and many other things to do today, right?”
“Frankly, my dear,” he swivelled your hips and turned you around so he could see your face, “Non mi importa. Not when I want to ravish the mother of my child as she deserves, no?”
His lips met yours and grew more passionate the longer he was attached to you; his hands became more and more impatient with the clothes that were separating your body from his. Your own hands moved to grip his robes, pulling them upwards to have access to his hard cock. Primo hated wearing undergarments with his robes - they were long enough to cover everything so why would he bother with them? Though, with your pregnant belly, it was particularly difficult for you to play with him in the way you usually would - or even wanted to. “Papa.” You complained through kisses. “I can’t touch you.”
“To the bedroom, fiorellina. Let me touch you instead, sì?”
You nodded and wandered off to the bedroom, removing your panties when you got there and sitting on the bed to help you kick them off completely. When he walked into the bedroom, he helped you out of your dress, gently pulling the fabric off of you and kissing the exposed flesh. He always wanted to make sure you knew how he loved and appreciated you, even if he was rougher with you than he ought to be. Undressing you and giving you tender kisses was his way of doing that. Your bra was the next to go, and Primo groaned at the sight of your nipples, enlarged and erect, just begging to be played with and sucked on. He gave you one final kiss before sitting you back onto the bed.
“Lay back.” Primo ordered you, removing his mitre and placing it on the dresser where it usually sat. You did as he asked, lying back and watching him disrobe - naked in an instant. That thought always made you laugh.
He situated himself between your legs, staring at your glistening folds and taking in the glorious sight of them, wet and ready for him. Your swollen clit, red and aching, screaming at him to wrap his lips around them and provide you with the most pleasure. You were always ready for him at a moment’s notice before the pregnancy, but the hormones had made you ravenous and insatiable. Not that Primo was complaining, of course. You made him feel young again with the amount of times you wanted to mount him and take what you needed from him. He was always more than happy to oblige, enjoying his pregnant wife bouncing on his cock first thing in the morning.
He first placed kisses to your calves - gentle, soft pecks that were barely there, but sporadically timed so you didn’t know when they’d land. His fingertips delicately caressed any exposed flesh he could reach, adding another layer of sensation to the already soft touches. Though, you knew your thighs would be painted black and white from his paints transferring.
“Always so good for your Papa.” He whispered, his deep voice gravelly with decades of use. “Always so obedient and helpful.” His lips now had moved up to your pubic mound. You could feel his breath flow between your folds before he’d placed a kiss just above them, making you shiver in anticipation for that final touch.
Papa, at times, felt like a walking stereotype given his unmatched patience and languid movements. He liked to blame his age, but you knew he enjoyed torturing you slowly, like he was sustained from your frustrations alone. And so, when you had grown impatient and considered sitting up to tell him to let you please him instead, his tongue finally made contact. But this time it had no softness to it - this time he was brutal in his movements.
The initial lick was broad and rough, causing you to scream out unexpectedly. But this was soon followed by his lips suctioning themselves around your clit and sucking as hard as he could, giving you overwhelming pleasure that bordered on pain. With his mouth still closed around your clit, the tip of his tongue continued to work it in multiple directions, almost erratic with his ministrations. He continued like this for what seemed like eternity; his head even moving in all directions when he sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as lively as possible. Usually, such intense pleasure would have your hands flying to his bald head, but your rather large pregnancy belly stopped you from reaching him, and so you had to make do with the sheets below you, gripping onto them as tightly as you could for purchase and to keep yourself from floating away. All the while he remained face-first in your core, unrelenting and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak.
He pulled away briefly so that he could spit on his fingers, placing them inside you and tapping upwards as his mouth worked on your clitoris. He fully intended to be inside you today, and needed to stretch you out to accommodate his size. Though, of course, you appreciated the deep burn that came with his cock filling you up, he couldn’t bear to hurt you, especially while you were hyper-senstive with the hormones your body was pumping through you to create and sustain life. Your walls were extra slippery today, and your g-spot so tender that a single touch had your hips bucking upwards quickly at the shock, despite feeling him stretch you. You called out, much louder than intended at the feel of his fingers perfectly abusing that spot inside you, dragging the utmost pleasure from your body and playing you like a fiddle he’d been playing for years.
“P-Papa!” You breathed, your body feeling like it was on fire. Your hands shifted from the sheets to pinch and play with your nipples. “I’m so close, please - fuck! - Please don’t stop!”
Primo only grunted in response, adding a little extra vibration when he did. He refused to stop what he was doing because he knew you’d lose that feeling. Instead, he upped his movements and heightened the intensity, causing you to finally tip over the edge and climax all over his face. Your back arched and your mouth fell open, with a string of expletives tumbling out of it. And Primo only stopped when you sat up and pushed him away.
He certainly was a sight to see emerging from your wetness; his paint around his mouth had completely dissolved, showing you his swollen pink lips, soiled with your cunt. There was a lazy smile on his face, and a cackle in his throat at the sight of your exhausted face, your eyes half-closed in sleepiness and your mouth wide open as you tried to breathe in as much oxygen as your lungs would hold.
“Are you ready for me, fiorellina?” He asked you, kneeling on the bed and placing your thighs over his.
“Yes, Papa. Please fuck me.”
He groaned at the way your voice moaned the last three words, bottom lip catching between his teeth and eyes roaming lower and lower until he was staring at your cunt again. His cock was placed at your entrance, ready to push his way inside you; and fuck, when he finally did? It felt like magic.
Your sensitive walls welcomed him with proverbial open arms as he slowly sank deeper and deeper into the warm recesses of your cunt. The head of his cock gently kissed your cervix as though it were welcoming him home after being apart for so long. Every inch he fed into you felt delicious as it stretched you out to fit him like a glove; a torturous yet spectacular feeling until his hips were flush to yours and his mouth released a breath of relief followed by a sharp hiss. The noise you made as you felt him breach you went straight to his cock, making it twitch as it was going in, causing you to moan even louder. Had someone been playing with your clit, you were sure you would have cum instantly.
“Papa!” Your voice was a desperate whine, a plead for him to be closer to you, or even start moving inside you. You needed him to do something.
“I know, baby girl. I know. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You shudderred. “Please move!”
The first thrust was so intense you thought you were about to pass out, but all it was was a gentle movement. Your hands immediately moved back to the bed, clutching onto the sheets so tightly, you were ripping them from their tucked state. The second thrust felt just as good, and the third had your eyes rolling back. Soon enough, Primo had picked up the pace, rhythmic yet gentle movements that had your lungs gasping for air and your brain turn to mush. You, an educated and powerful woman, now lay a puddle of hormones and pleasure on your shared bed by the cock of a man significantly older than you.
The more he thrust, the more unbearable the feeling became. Your screams as an outlet to the sheer pleasure were not working anymore, and you’d now resorted to wrapping your teeth around the silk pillowcase that kept your head comfortable below you. Your back arched off the bed as much as it comfortably could, losing your mind even more now that his hips had picked up the pace. You were blissfully unaware of the way you looked, or how much you were making him suffer.
You were divine; a Goddess sent as a reward by Lucifer for all his hard work. Your body, carrying life that he’d helped create jiggling beneath him with the gentle force of his hips. Your thighs wobbling at the movements, your breasts, heavy, round and full, nice and plump and begging to be played with and sucked into his mouth. You always looked absolutely delicious, but right now you looked so tempting he almost wished you weren’t pregnant so he could fuck another baby into you this very moment. He released a deep, gutteral groan from your walls tightening around him after he’d told you that.
“Gonna keep pumping you full of kids, keep you knocked up as much as I can.” He continued. “You want that, fiorellina? You want me to keep fucking babies into you? Keep showing these fucks around the Ministry who you belong to?”
“Yes, Papa!” You screamed when you were finally able to release the pillow from your mouth.
His thumb came down to your clitoris and began rubbing circles in the tender bundle of nerves there, causing another scream to come out of you. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” He asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
You were almost sobbing. “No, Papa. I can’t.”
“Yes you can, fiorellina. Give me one more. Papa’s almost finished. One more.” He felt you tighten around him one more time as both his hand and his words tipped you over the edge. Your ears rang, your vision went white, your body tensed as he worked you through your second and final orgasm of the night. It felt as though you were exploding from the inside out, the feeling so powerful and incredible you could hardly breathe. All the while, despite the ringing, you could hear Primo in the distance somewhere talking you through it. “È tutto qui. That’s it, fiorellina. Breathe for me. Such a good girl for Papa. Cazzo! I’m gonna -”
Primo could barely finish his sentence before he stilled inside you, one final thrust that had him burying himself as deep as he could and emptying himself completely. Your sensitivity had you twitching each time he did, tightening involuntarily around him at each movement causing his orgasm to occur stronger than it usually did.
He pulled out and collapsed next to you, the room filled with nothing but your exhausted grunts and gasps for air at such an intense session. Eventually, when you were both strong enough, you made eye contact and laughed at each other despite nothing being funny. You wanted to move towards him and cuddle into him, but your body wasn’t responding the way you wanted it to today, so you settled for reaching for his hand.
Once you’d both calmed down, you began a conversation, filling the silence with more intimacy and sweetness as you still lay there recovering.
“Oh,” he said, remembering something important, “I will be home late tonight, fiorellina. My fratellini want an Uno night so I promised them I’d be there.”
“Good, it’s about time you got to spend some time with them. I know Papa Terzo has been down recently since they deposed him.”
“Sì. Thank you for understanding, amore mio.” He turned onto his side and cupped your opposite cheek, kissing the one closest to him. “Ti amo.”
“I love you, too.” You told him. “Now go tend to your garden. I need a nap. You’ve broken me.”
“Mi dispiace, fiorellina. Sleep well.”
Previous Day ⛧ Next Day
#mel writes#kinktober#kinktober 2023#ghost kinktober#ghostober#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band#ghost the band#ghostober 2023#papa emeritus#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus 1#papa primo#primo#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus 1 x reader#papa primo x reader#primo x reader#papa emeritus x reader smut#papa emeritus i x reader smut#papa emeritus 1 x reader smut#papa primo x reader smut#primo x reader smut#primo smut#papa primo smut#papa emeritus i smut#papa emeritus 1 smut
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psst. hey. nosferatu.
yandere hc's. secondo or primo.
thank you, pookie <3
Yandere Papa Emeritus I headcanons
CW: non-con touching (not really sexual).
While his body may be past its prime, his mind is as sharp as ever.
And he uses both of those things to his advantage.
You most likely start as just a fellow gardener, maybe a caretaker of his butterfly conservatory.
And for whatever reason, he grows fond of you.
His current assistant gets laid off as soon as he manages to find a reason, even if they make the tiniest mistake possible.
For reasons unknown, you are moved to their position.
He's good at being a loving, caring man that the whole Ministry sees him as, even if deep down he's still bitter and can be cruel if situation needs him to be.
Not to say he's not caring. He is. But his caring nature and his cruelty co-exist.
Which side you see depends on you entirely.
If you're good and fall for his kind-hearted nature, then you have nothing to worry about.
He doesn't even really need your love all that much. All he needs is to be the most important person in your life.
As long he gets your undivided attention, you're gonna be kept safe and happy.
If he doesn't, however... That's when the issues start.
He'll be very direct with his cruelty.
His ghouls will be constantly watching you.
They'll manhandle you away from anyone you talk to without Primo's permission. That person is found mauled the next morning.
You will be forced to be in his presence. And while he wouldn't go too far, he will touch and hold you without permission. He claims he's doing it out of love, but the moment his cruel side comes out, it's not so much about love as about getting what he wants.
And if he has to force you into becoming his spouse and/or Prime Mover, so be it.
There's a spark of a chance that everything will go back to being nice, though! You just have to behave and let the Stockholm Syndrome do it's work.
Once you're all sweet and in love with him again, his caring and loving side will eventually come out again.
~
Written by Nosferatu.
Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @dio-niisio @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary
#ghost band#ghost bc#ghost#ask#z-xmyers#ghost band x reader#ghost bc x reader#ghost x reader#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus 1#primo emeritus#papa primo#primo#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus 1 x reader#papa primo x reader#primo emeritus x reader#primo x reader#yandere#yandere x reader
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❦Say it with flowers
Young Papa Emeritus Primo/ GN Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Young Primo falls in love with you at first sight, without wasting time, he begins to make love to you by sending you flowers and showing you their meaning, before daring to confess who he is because he is very shy, but a couple of imps accelerate his courtship. Mentions of Terzo and Secondo being mischievous children and Primo being their tutor.
Tags: Family Fluff, Making love means courting, like old times, unspecified year, crush, secret admirer. Prophecy in a flower at the end?
Living in the ministry was getting easier every day. Your tumultuous life was getting better and better when you approached the clergy and finally found your chosen family.
The world was healing, and so were you. The war left you alone in this forsaken land, but life was being kind to you again. Everyone had hope for the future once more, you even started to consider seeing a sibling of sin to let him woo you, even if he was too stoic and dry to express his affection, maybe with time, you thought, he might open up little by little, with patience and care.
But as the months went by, you felt discouraged by his manners, distant, ambiguous leanings, you often questioned why bother? Your passionate and romantic heart left you wanting more, and nobody seemed to live up to your standards.
Sometimes even you expected for him to ask you something improper, knowing very well that a gentleman would never risk your reputation, but at least it'll show you that he feels passion for you, even a concealed and sedated one. Nevertheless, he kept giving you nothing, and your interest was withering, practically dead.
One very pleasant sunset, you were strolling by the ministry gardens, admiring the well cared flowers in the hot house, exotic specimens surrounding you, as well as common flowers, sunflowers as tall as you, and they were looking in your direction.
You didn't noticed that somebody was looking at you hiding among these flowers, struck by your beauty, how perfectly divine you look with flowers around you, just where you belong, he thought, the shy young man tried not to make noise so as not to scare you and to be able to continue admiring you calmly, his hands held a flower pot that, being enraptured by you, he forgot to leave somewhere and ended up falling out of his hands. You got scared, but you didn't run, you just jumped in your place.
"Hello? Is someone there?" You saw a silhouette moving around, but not quite who it was behind the tall sunflowers and ivy.
"Mi dispiace for startling you, I'll clean this" the voice said while sweeping the dirt, you wanted to see who it was, but it seemed he was hiding on purpose.
His voice was confident, but his manners were shy, since he didn't appear in front of you to introduce himself, after sweeping he just disappeared.
The encounter was brief, you retain his words in your mind, his pleasant voice that denotes kindness resonates in your ears for days. You ask everyone you know, who takes care of the greenhouse, your friends can't tell you who he is, they only describe a tall young man with strong features and blond hair combed back, he came not long ago from one of the ministries in Italy, everyone judged him shy because sometimes he is seen talking more to plants than to people, however; he is as determined in his actions than anyone his age.
On one evening, you're about to go to the dining room, ready to head out of your room, you hear giggling on the other side of your door, maybe these children that live in the ministry are doing pranks around, you decide to catch them in the act opening the door and there they were, two very small children laughing together no older than ten years old, they looked like twins, both with dark hair and their left eye was an unsettling white color, they had a bouquet of acacias and sunflowers, they smiled at you and hand it over.
"Thank you very much, child, how pretty. Somebody sent these or…?" You asked them, as you smell the delicious bouquet.
"Non dirglielo, ce l'ha ordinato nostro fratello" one child said to the other.
"Lo so, stronzo" one child said, pushing his little friend or brother, you weren’t sure.
"Non chiamarmi così, stronzino" yells the other and then both start pushing each other and wrestling at your door frame.
You didn't understand the children, they stopped wrestling to look at you, putting the bouquet in water and leaving it near the window that faces the garden, so everyone can see, the dark-haired children elbowed each other and whispered something.
"Roses are red…" one started reciting very loudly.
"Sometimes they have dow… dew!" continued the other child, both have beautiful voices, maybe they were in the choir, you suppose.
"Our brother is in love…"
"And we always knew"
They took turns to say the little rhyme with a very thick accent, very obviously learned to say it only in the moment, since they didn't seem to understand you, and right after, they left running and laughing down the corridor before you could ask again what they meant. They looked so adorable doing the errand, your bewilderment went to the background.
You shared the cute story with your friends, now somebody has eyes for you and it's most intriguing the mystery of your secret admirer. Even if it's a stranger who is doing that, it was a stranger who's making an effort to romance you.
The next week you heard eager knockings on your door, it was the kids again with another bouquet for you, it was a combination of red tulips and yellow iris, but this time a tiny book came with it, a book about floriography with the meaning of the flowers in the Victorian times, this person really wants you to know what they mean, not only the beauty of the gifts, but the message in them. The kids ran away from you again, without letting you say another word, so you ran behind them, this time you needed to know who it was, when they realized that you were behind them, they started to run faster towards the green house.
They screamed like you were a monster trying to catch them, and the bushes in the gardens were like a maze, the children separated and you went for the shorter one, grabbing him from the collar of the white cassock, careful not to hurt him. You took it as a good sign that he was still laughing.
“Alright, you’re going to tell me who is sending these, I’ll keep the secret ok?” the black-haired child stared at you silently grinning, you intuited that it’s because he didn’t understand you. The other child appeared, peculiar as they were, they also seemed good natured and they were just the messengers, for that you decided to let them go and went to your room for the night.
Every week, for the last couple months, they left a bouquet with the most perfect flowers, sometimes they left huge bouquets of roses, other times they had already given you before, but according to the little book they gave you, they were all declarations of love, admiration for your character and beauty, on some occasions the children said a few words to you, almost always they made a mistake in a word, it seemed that they were still learning English and that made it more adorable, it was obvious that someone sent them, the children would not have as much consistency seeing how restless they are.
One delivery was very special, the day after you had to sing in front of the congregation in praise of Satan, hours later, when you returned to your room after dinner, your room was full of carnations and roses, along with a note, talking about how elevated your admirer felt to have had the privilege of hearing you sing at mass, drinking the poems that fall from your breath, how he could not stop seeing your lips when you spoke and your luminous eyes when lighting the candles.
That made you feel so loved, so cared for, your eyes filled with tears that someone could really see you like this, but they were also tears of longing peaking from your eyes, longing for that person to speak to you tête à tête. Being able to feel in your own flesh that admiration that he expresses so much with flowers, even so you smile looking at the moon through your window, wishing you could conjure the name of who makes love to you.
The following week, before going to mass, you saw the little ones who have sent you the flowers, running around, they begin to surround a sister, one behind and one in front, the brown-haired one shows her something between his hands, distracting her while the other little one with black hair lifts her skirt from behind, then run away laughing, she yells terrible things at them, when you get closer you hear someone tell her that they are just children, justifying them, but not on your watch. You go to look for them in a corner inside the church to reprimand them and find out who is responsible for them.
You find them with a man who is scolding them strictly, crouching in front of them, and yet he spoke affectionately, you approach him to tell him about the matter and also tell those little ones how wrong that was, the pair weren’t laughing anymore.
“... stavamo giocando” said the one with brown hair, the other boy was silent and looking at you.
“In english, Secondo, you must practice” the man reminded them “You must respect the sorelle and everyone in here, you will get a lot more out of people the good way, especially if one of you ends up being the leader of the…”
“Fratello!” yells the black hair boy.
“Terzo, I’m speaking” he straightens his hair “Those are not proper games, and father doing it does not mean you should too…”
“Fratello!” yell the children louder.
The young man follows the glances of the little ones, turning his head and looks at you, a pale young man becomes even paler when he stands up suddenly, you smile at him and cross your arms, the children whisper things in each other's ears, twin things, you think.
“These two are going to be the terror of the ministry one day, eh?” you tell them, neither dares to say anything “Sister Lily is very upset, young men, you should apologize. Lifting a lady’s skirt is unacceptable. I shall tell about this to your tutor, or whoever…”
“That’s me” the man swallows hard looking at you terrified “These are my little brothers. I’m afraid they already are the terror of the ministry” he smiles coyly at you, brushing his blonde hair with his fingers, you find him rather handsome with his red vest, cream colored shirt with rolled up sleeves and burgundy pants.
“I’ll keep my eye on you two, they’ve been doing mischief on me too, you know” the man immediately tenses up, clenches his fists and turns to see the little ones.
“Secondo! Terzo! What have you done?” He doesn't yell at them, but his voice is as resonant as theirs when you heard them recite.
“Non abbiamo fatto niente” pleads the boy with black hair, he grabs his brother by the arm with a little fear.
“Only what you order, promise, Primo” the taller boy speaks and covers his mouth immediately and widens his eyes.
“Bravo, now you remember your english?” He massages his eyebrows in frustration, the poor man who now, thanks to the innocence of his little brothers, you can now identify as Primo, can't find a way to hide his face. You can't be bothered with any of them, the little comedy they invented between them had been extremely charming, your smile doesn't fade, quite the opposite.
“You’re the one who’s been sending me the flowers?” even when it’s heavily implied that he is, you must hear him say it or deny it.
“Well, it depends…” he manages to say, his flustered face was most endearing.
You were so absorbed in each other that you did not notice when the children left laughing at their older brother's ribs, now you can clearly notice the feature that he shares with his little brothers in his left eye which hardly dares to look at you.
“On…?” You urged him to continue with what he was going to say, the poor man had been stunned, he seemed shyer than his face implied, and his little brothers did not seem to be of that withdrawn nature at all.
“On... what do you say?”
“About what?”
“You really wish for me to say it?”
“I don’t wish to torture you, Primo” knowing his name you roll your tongue calling him, he looks excited and fails to conceit his emotions, you think of following a little more of this game of his “Meet me in the green house in ten minutes, I’ll give my answer”
You leave the church, giving a mischievous look, first, you go directly to your room to look for the book that he had sent you, you know that you must search by color to get to what you are looking for, you read while you walk almost running towards the garden.
Every second that passed, Primo counted as if it were a year, every step echoed in his head just like his heart as he approaches the greenhouse, his little brothers apologized multiple times in several languages, hugging him and kissing him to forgive them for their indiscretion, but he couldn't be mad at them at all, he loves them too much; they follow him quite far without losing sight of him, they are not very sure why, only their instinct tells them that they should be close.
When you come out of the greenhouse, with one hand hidden behind your back, you have already chosen your flower. The understanding that you feel with impresses you, as if you have known him all your life, perhaps because you know that he understands your romantic nature. He walks to you, half hope, half fear.
“Look for a flower, we will make something like a duel, we will get our ideas at the same time and so we will know what we will do from here on” You may have sounded a bit abrupt in your words, making him fear that you're not interested, but it's all part of the game.
You were surprised how quickly Primo was to find his flower, as if he already had it ready, you see the children from afar playing in the gardens, the one with black hair stops to wave at you, you assume it was Secondo, you’re still not sure about their names, the other little one, which you assume is Terzo, pushes him away and takes his place to blow you a kiss. You laugh at how quirky those kids are and how lucky they are to have a man with as good temper as his brother, they certainly require a lot of patience.
“They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t change them for anything” Primo says from behind you, your flower well concealed in your hands and his hands also hidden behind his back. You face him admiring his features, his poise and elegant manners and his language in his letters only make you more certain of your choice.
“Ready?” you count moving the mouth up to three, without making a sound, you both show your flowers at the same time and laugh.
You laugh together because not only did you both took a red flower, which is already a good sign, but it is exactly the same flower, a red cardinal. It must be a sign, it must be destiny, he took that flower both for its meaning and because that was the pot that he dropped when he was enthralled by you the first time he saw you.
#the band ghost fanfic#papa emeritus primo#young primo#papa emeritus i#terzo emeritus#secondo emeritus#papa primo x reader#ghost band#ghost bc#the band ghost#instant crush#say it with flowers
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Writing Sessions #8 (Papa Emeritus I x g/n reader)
Summary: You need some special lessons before being allowed to participate in the sex rituals. Primo helps.
Tags/Warnings: +18, sexual tension, orgasm control, orgasm delay, bondage, sex toys, dom/sub dynamics, edging, power imbalance, fingering, blindfolds, long haired blond Peepaw, age difference, general unholiness. Around 2.5 K of smut.
A/N: I'm Satan's strongest soldier and this is my hardest battle: to make you Primo fuckers. Also it's almost midnight I didn't proof-read this too much. I want to sleep.
You wanted this.
Now, sitting alone in the ceremony chambers, it’s not time to go back on your word. “I’m ready, Sister!” you begged, hands clutched together over your chest. “I want to participate in the next ritual!”
Sister wasn’t completely convinced, but your incessant blabbering ultimately exasperated her. “Fine,” she choked out, in a huff.“But you’ll have special lessons before participating in the real thing. You require extra preparation.”
Which took you to this place, waiting for your professor to arrive. Who will it be? Oh, you’re so thrilled to discover it. Papa Terzo is a busy man, but who would be better than him to impart this lesson? Or maybe Secondo, now that he’s retired? Or, perhaps, that cute Cardinal who recently entered the Ministry...
Your mind wanders around, thighs pressing together as your imagination runs wild. All the options are good, even if someone like Imperator or a higher ranked Sibling cross the door instead of Papa. You want to be included in the sex rituals to honor Satan, you want to constitute a part of those long lasting orgies with both Siblings and Ghouls.
Sex magick rituals are alluring, so powerful. It’s not for every person in the Ministry, but you’re convinced to be ready. Your eyes focus on the multiple crops and whips that are placed on the shelves in the wall, on the harnesses and leather straps, and then the toys. This room surely has everything anyone could wish for, from lubricant and condoms to the wildest dildos you have ever seen.
Wait, that one looks like Secondo.
Why is it golden, though?
“Enjoying the view, Sibling?”
Oh, shit. You were so distracted by that cursed object you didn’t even realize someone has entered the room. And fuck, it’s Primo.
“Papa!” You gasp, hand rushing up to rest over your heart. “I mean, Primo. I’m…”
“Stand up,” he cuts in, fingers gesturing in your direction. “This is not the right way to address your superiors.”
The blood freezes in your veins. You don’t know much about the former Papa, except for the fact he used to be quite authoritarian and mean. Most Siblings were pleasantly relieved when he surrendered the position to Secondo, for this last one was more reliant. But Primo…
Primo is severe and scary. You stand up suddenly, hands clasped near your body. His mismatched eyes scan all over you, stopping on your face for long seconds before falling back down to your torso. There’s something in those pupils, dark and bitter. The weight of his disappointment is massive on your shoulders.
“Your Unholiness,” you respond, in a whisper. He merely clicks his tongue, before letting out a tired exhale.
“Where are your habits? Is this a way to present yourself for a ritual?”
For Satan’s sake… you’re ruined. Of all the people who could have been chosen to serve as your professor, it had to be him. It is possible even Imperator would have been better than this.
Well, it’s too late to go back now.
Primo doesn't allow you to reply. He judges the way you struggle and stumble over your words, waving a hand to stop you right in your tracks. “It’s too late to change anything now. It doesn’t matter. Take it all off and get on the bed.”
This time, you don’t try responding. The clothes fall to the floor, piece by piece, allowing the icy air to hit your skin. Goosebumps begin to form on your exposed body, sending shivers down your spine. When your eyes accidentally set upon Primo’s face, you realize he’s staring right at you, scorching gaze studying every inch of you.
To be bare in front of someone it’s not new. There’s no such a thing as shame in this Ministry, no sense in denying the desire of pleasure and sexual satisfaction. But, to be bare in front of someone like him, that’s a completely different thing.
You swallow, but your mouth is dry. Primo’s pupils focus on the flick of your muscles under the skin, on the way your throat tenses. He dwells in the middle of the room, fancy robes sparkling under the warm lights. The gloves on his hands creak when he closes his fist, one finger lifting to point at the bed.
Right, there you go. Even as you move away, you sense the burn of his stare. As upset and serious as Primo might look, there’s no sense in denying the hunger in his eyes, the glint hidden in his black, blown pupils. To feel desired, wanted by someone, is enough to launch a wave of electricity right down your guts.
Another wave travels right between your legs when his fingers brush over your waist, cold leather harsh on the feverish skin. “Make yourself comfortable,” he commands, in a whisper. This time, the voice is gentler, but nevertheless carries authority. “I have to get something first.”
The silk sheets are cold too. Your bare back rests on them, gaze inevitably falling on Primo. This man is old, considerably older than you, probably older than most people in the Ministry.
It's crazy, but some say he made a deal with Satan, to look younger and live longer. Staring at him, you begin to think it might be truth. Under the mild, amber lights, Primo’s long hair glistens like gold. It's tied up in a loose bun, and only a few strands frame his face. His paint is faded and messy, making his bone structure look sharper, harsher.
There’s no doubt. This man is attractive, devilish so. Naturally, he’s one of Satan’s chosen ones. As strange as it is, Primo is making your insides feel warm and hot blood to rush in your veins.
“Sex rituals are all about energy. It’s not as simple as one might think,” Primo begins, walking towards the bed. There are leather straps and a pair of handcuffs hanging from his fingers, among other toys you can’t really see. “The more energy it accumulates, the more successful the ritual is. Some things can’t be speeded, you need to build them up, step by step.”
His voice becomes nothing but a distant murmur when he begins fastening the leather straps around your limbs, spreading your legs apart. His touch remains impersonal, almost professional, deft fingers working with natural ease. When he places the handcuffs on your wrists, fastening them around the bed frame, you can’t help but to snatch a deep, long breath.
“An orgasm is not the goal of these rituals. It’s just a reward for well-behaved servants. You’ll have to offer a lot of yourself in order to deserve one, understood?”
There’s more he’s not saying, you can note it in his eyes. Primo’s palm flattens on your abdomen, grounding you. His gaze scorches your soul, making your insides yearn and tremble. Even if he remains silent, he’s seeking permission to continue, searching for any discomfort or doubts you might have.
It’s useless. You’re certain of this. Biting down on your lip, you nod once before replying. “I’m ready. I want this.”
A deep, slow chuckle escapes his lips. His palm presses harder, enough to cause you to feel the strength his muscles still have. “I want this…”
“I want this, your Unholiness.”
“Good.”
A blindfold is fixed over your eyes, completely obscuring your vision. The last thing you witness is that sultry, heavy gaze framed by the jaded paint and the golden wavy hair. After that, all you perceive is his feeble touch, the way the tip of his fingers traces patters on the feverish skin of your chest, ghosting over your stomach and descending down your abdomen.
Another gasp exits your lips, through clenched teeth. A low rumble of acknowledgement is all you hear, before his fingers stroke your inner thighs, making you flinch. Not being able to see makes this whole experience cruder, stronger than it should be.
You’re already dripping, having prepared yourself generously before this session. And fuck, the buzzing sound of a vibrator coming to life absolutely doesn’t make things easier.
For a long moment, the buzzing is the only indication of something going on around you. Primo’s footsteps are light, barely echoing on the floor. Next, a sudden contact forces you to jump again, leather successfully restraining any further movement. His gloves are cold between your legs, fingers collecting a bit of the lube that slips out of your entrance. He wipes them on your inner thighs, a click of this tongue signaling his disapproval.
“It looks like someone needs to be taught how to be patient,” he muses, and his voice comes from all around you. The only warning of him being near is the tickle of his hair over your hardened nipples. Fuck, you can feel his hot breath reaching your skin too when he continues. “Being selfish is good, on a certain level. But here, Sibling, we make some sacrifices for our Father. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you choke out, past a tense jaw. The teasing end of a crop on your thigh reminds you of your place. At this place, he is the boss. Hell, someone like him has always been your boss, but you never stopped to think about it. “Your Unholiness.”
“Good. Do you remember the gospel from the texts?” A nod is all you give. Luckily, it’s enough for him. “Recite them in your mind. Don’t forget this is an infernal ceremony, after all.”
Primo doesn’t speak anymore. You sense his fingers ghosting on the places you desire him the most, small vibrator briefly grazing over your legs and inner thighs before being secured right between your legs. The sensation travels all over your body, welcomed at first. It brings you over a nice edge, giving you some precious raw pleasure that makes your muscle tense, and toes curl.
Abdomen rising and falling with each labored breath, you squirm as much as you can on the silk sheets. Primo’s palm pins you down again, silently ordering you to stop. Obeying is hard when the intensity becomes stronger, urging your back to arch and ripping a deepmoan from your throat.
It becomes almost agonizingly good then. You’re unsure of how many minutes have passed at his mercy, but the orgasm is near and strong. Your voice fills the air, resonating against the ancient stone walls. Maybe you moan too loud, or squirm too much, but the vibrator comes to a sudden halt before you can reach your precious release.
A faint rumble dies in your chest. You bite on your lip, coppery taste of blood invading your tongue. Then, before you can complain, the buzzing begins again.
It becomes a cycle. No matter how silent or still you try to remain, Primo simply knows when you are about to come. He taunts and denies you as much as he desires, holding the control tight between his fingers. Just like that, he has you on his palm, begging for mercy you’re not completely sure he possesses.
No, this man knows no mercy. It’s been hours, maybe. You don’t know anymore. Your muscles hurt and throat aches, making it hard to breathe. It’s too hot inside the room, and there’s not enough oxygen in the air, nothing that can fill the emptiness in your lungs or inside you.
Praying to the Lord is all you can do. Over and over again, you recite the words in your head, trying to gain solace in that. It is possible Sister was right, maybe you weren’t ready for the raw intensity of these types of rituals. But now… now it’s too late. Now you are trapped here with him, overstimulated, tired and burning for release.
“Sibling,” Primo calls, palm cupping your cheek. There are sweat and pleasure tears falling down your face, before getting lost in your neck. “I’m right here with you. We’re in this together, aren’t we? I won’t let you down. You’re doing so good. You can take this just a little bit longer, si?”
It’s hard to say no when his thumb keeps caressing your face, a tender touch, almost lovingly so. Your head nods before you can think thoroughly and Primo lets out a short approving chuckle. His hand brushes your cheek again before falling on your neck, fingers lightly curling and palm pressing down before he disappears in the room.
The sound of a chair being pulled closer to the bed tells you this “just a bit” might have been a lie. The voices in your mind whisper this might have been a mistake, an overestimation of your own stamina. You were overly confident, too greedy. Now, you pay the consequences of your own actions.
The buzzing of the vibrator has become a dull, background noise. You’re dripping wet, soaked in sweat and tears, completely and absolutely ruined under his ministrations. Trying to beg doesn’t work, just like all your moaning and whimpering seem to have no effect on him.
No, he’s evil.
He merely laughs at your despair.
“What can I say, Sibling?” Primo asks, remote control dangling from his fingers as he approaches the bed. “Suffering for the Lord is not an easy thing.”
This time, the vibrator is set at the highest setting as his fingers enter you, curling and moving in a slow but strong pace. You see white static when you come, legs shaking, back arching, all the air leaving your lungs in a loud moan.
Coming down from the long-awaited high leaves you weak, almost passed out and twitching on the bed. The leather of Primo’s gloves is warm when he removes the blindfold from your face, other hand working on the handcuffs first and then on the leather straps.
Like a puppet with no strings, you let him do as he pleases. Satisfied and lulled into a well deserved sleep, the last thing you see is him placing a blanket over your body. Then, sore and exhausted, you close your eyes.
ps: This is not a joke anymore. Peepaw can fuck. None of us is seeing heaven now.
Writing gender neutral readers means I can't be as explicit or descriptive as I want to, but I hope it's still good.
#papa emeritus i#papa primo#ghost band fanfic#papa primo x reader#papa emeritus i x reader#this is not a joke anymore#send help#i need therapy#old men <3#writing sessions#my writing
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Yellow Acacias
Vampire!Papa Emeritus I (Primo) x Reader
AO3 Link
tw : religious themes
You’ve been raised as a weapon for the church. No parents to save you from the assigned destiny that had been carved in your skin. The perfect weapon. The mission was extremely simple, infiltrate the Abbey and slay Primo formally known as Papa Emeritus I.
You had finished packing clothes for the mission, grabbing on a nearby stool to open the single window in your room. It was tiny but it seemed much bigger when you were a child. Your room consisted of a small bed that you’ve outgrown, a wardrobe without doors, and a dimly lit yellow lightbulb was your sun, the yellow lightbulb would highlight the chipping paint from the walls.
You felt the sun’s eyes burning your exposed neck, the handle of your suitcase was seemingly getting slippery within the palm of your tight grip. Standing on the last stair of the entrance to the church, the hands of the fellow church member that raised you gripped your shoulders tightly, their eyes carved into your eye sockets.
“ Do not fail this mission,” they stated. “ I didn’t raise you to be a failure.”
You nodded, turning your back on them hearing the hiss escape the bus from the nearby bus stop.
The bus’s color palette was still visible, the vibrant colors and peeling commercial ads that were placed on the sides. Sitting on the bus’s plastic seat, watching their intense eyes fade away as they entered the church.
Standing at the entrance of the gothic abbey.
The gothic abbey was tall and beautifully designed with the cathedral glass greeting you with soft hues of greens, reds, and a mixture of oranges and yellows.
The abbey walls were a pearl white to hide its ulterior motive and a Sister of sin guided you to your new room. It was definitely an upgrade of your old room.
The paint wasn’t peeling off, a bed that you could actually fit in, nothing broken or stained. A bay window sill that pointed itself across to the greenhouse. Sitting on the window sill to look at the entrance of the room. Hands on your lap, not knowing what to do. Perhaps you could try and escape to go back to the church and experience the humiliation of failing a mission. Or try to organize your clothes into wooden drawers?
The remaining hours you spend putting your clothes away in the wooden drawers, setting the open suitcase on the bed, revealing the items to slay vampires since they were just bloodsucking corpses, nothing more. You closed the suitcase and were able to carefully push it underneath the bed and sat on the bed. Enjoying the soft bed that held you with such care against your tense back. The voices of the elders swam throughout your brain to not form any connections and to do this job swiftly and thoroughly.
You heard a knock at your door, getting up from the bed and opening the door to see a Sibling of sin holding a tray of food and handing it to you before leaving. It tasted good, delicate on your tastebuds.
It had been a couple of weeks since you were sent to the abbey, not wanting to seem insistent on working alongside Papa Emeritus. Taking the duties that the other siblings of sin didn’t want. A black cassock with matching buttons was your new daily wear. Regularly attending the unholy sermons and trying not to fall asleep during them was slowly becoming a routine.
You sat on your bed to open the occasional letter from the church berating the time spent away as they had assigned another mission for you when you would return and gently pushing you towards the goal of slaying Primo.
It was a miracle sent from the heavens themselves. One of the siblings of sin that worked for Primo had unexpectedly fallen sick which wasn’t your doing, just a miracle and a perfect situation. You carefully tucked away the stake made from hawthorn wood along with the slim iron dagger in your cassock. But there was one thing, you didn’t know how to reach the greenhouse. Thankfully, a sister of sin knew the way and helped you towards the greenhouse. It was a long way there, either it was your rigid movements that made you feel like a marionette, the strings that were tightly on you were from the Church.
The smell from the fresh blooming flowers was in the air.
It was warm. Incredibly warm. It was something from a movie, the freshly watered flowers surrounded him. Different colored flowers that suited him, he was strikingly beautiful—deadly. He belonged to the undead. You’d been ordered by him to water plants and flowers at a specific angle and amount. He was careful with his guidance, his gloved hands would adjust your hands for watering plants, cutting off unnecessary things for the plants, and repotting plants that have grown. He carried himself with elegance and order.
He kindled something inside of you, something that was supposed to be kept away. It was subtle. Stealing glances from each other, enjoying him talking about the symbolism of the plants that grew in the garden, and the occasional midnight walks after the sermons. You unfortunately formed an unwanted connection to him.
A stack of unopened letters lay on top of the dresser. You haven’t—didn’t want to open the letters since it would be repeating the same lines of the slaying of Primo and what is taking you so long?
“Caro mio/Cara mia, is something wrong?” Primo turned to you. “You haven’t said anything.”
You tried to build courage to finally say the truth about your sudden arrival. It was only you and him in his chapel. His soft glove seemingly wiped away the stress and worry.
“What bothers you?” He asked again, softly.
The chapel was dimly lit by the yellow flickering candles.
You needed to do this. You didn’t want to be labeled as a failure.
The blade of your dagger torn a thin layer of his chasuble. His mitré discarded onto the marble pulpit. You were on top of him, dagger in hand. Your hands began to shake incredibly, trying to plunge the blade deeper and to slay him. His eyes were pained but you haven’t fully staked his chest. Was it his face that seemingly got blurrier? Or did you have something in your eyes that blurred your vision? Your heart ached, tears slid down your struggling face. His gloved hand carefully wiped away the tears from one side of your face.
“Caro/Cara, can you do it?” he asked. “Do you want to kill me?”
“I—Yes…” you said, thinking about the return back to the Church. “I want to kill you, Primo.”
The abbey greeted you with open arms, you were trying to kill the man who opened your shattered heart with a new found emotion called love.
“Then do it, caro mio/cara mia.”
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Cold Cuddles with the Papas(Headcanons)
No warnings apply, just some tooth rotting fluff from our favorite old men!
Primo
As the eldest brother, it is safe to assume his circulation isn’t as great as it once was. Thus, blankets and warm fuzzy socks are always in abundance with Primo
When you approach him complaining about the cold, Primo is pulling out a pair of double layer socks before you have even finished getting the words out
If he still has work that needs his attendance, Primo will usher you both to the loveseat in his office. An end table will be pulled up to use as a desk, blanket wrapped around you both so you can nestle against him for warmth
But when there is no work to be done, Primo will brew a nice hot pot of tea for you both to share
Together you retire to his chambers where the heat is always turned up to the perfect comfortable temperature
Always takes up the chance to put you in one of his older sweaters because Primo loves the sight of your sleepy face while bundled up in his clothing
If even all of that does little to fight off the could, Primo will sit and cuddle with you beneath a layer of thick blankets until you are warm enough
Your favorite is the occasions where this turns your evening into soft warm cuddles the rest of the day and sharing some delicious soup made with vegetables from Primo’s garden
Secondo
Seems very much like a tough love kind of guy. First response when you come to him complaining about the cold is “well damn, I can’t control the weather”
But a quick flash of the puppy dogs is all it takes to change Secondo’s tune
If you are outside together and you begin to shiver, Secondo will groan, but always will offer up his coat. Pretends he walks with his arm around you to further keep you warm, but you know it because he also feels the cold
When inside and you mention being cold, Secondo simply offers to turn up the heater.
He often takes things for face value, so either prepare to work for it if you want cuddles from him or simply be blunt about it. No matter the method, you end up getting what you want.
Sometimes, when you can’t manage to pull him away from his work, you will rest on his lap with a blanket pulled snug around your shoulders as he continues going through paperwork
Other times Secondo will take the time to sit down and relax with you lounging under a throw blanket together in his office
Offers to make you something hot to drink, whether it be coffee, tea, or even hot chocolate.
Don’t tell his brothers, but he loves when you pick hot chocolate because he uses it as an excuse to also indulge in the delicious chocolatey drink
Terzo
Most likely to be over dramatic about the situation, and also most likely to be equally as affected by the temperature
Do not expect Terzo to offer his coat! “But the outfit was planned around the coat! Taking it off will ruin the look!” He will however walk with an arm around you, pulled tight against his side so that you can share his body heat
Getting Terzo to accomplish any work when it is cold is a difficult task, but you don’t want him getting in MORE trouble with Sister Imperator
So cold mornings you find yourself accompanying Terzo throughout his day, hot drinks always in hand, warm coats and blankets at the ready constantly
You will stand behind his chair, arms around him with blanket hanging over so that you can wrap him up in your loving warmth as you coax him to get through at least half the stack of papers on his desk
But when Terzo does not have work, expect an extravagant yet cozy night ahead of you
Expertly gets the fireplace going, all the lights off so only the firelit illuminates the room. Absolutely has a huge furry rug in front of the fireplace, which is where you spend the evening cuddling with dozens of pillows and extra blankets
Special occasions you can also expect to share some mulled wine as you bask in the warmth of the fire together, tangled up in each other’s limbs
Copia
Always one to worry, Copia will instantly be fretting over you if you mention being cold around him
Before you can even say anything else, Copia is pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to check for a fever followed by rapid fire questions asking if you are feeling ill
Takes a couple of minutes to settle him down enough to explain that you aren’t sick, you are just a bit chilly and in need of some Copia cuddles
Worry is quickly replaced with affection, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest. “Oh! Why didn’t you just say so!”
Often one to work too hard, Copia however will set aside his work in these kind of occasions
The couch in his office always has a rather thick throw blanket on it, strategically left by you entirely for the purpose for when you have days like this
Copia will get you both nice steaming cups of hot chocolate, mini marshmallows included!
Both of you curl up together on the couch, blanket thrown over your laps as you carefully sip on your drinks and talk about whatever comes to mind
On some occasions you fall asleep against him, and Copia absolutely refuses to wake you from such a pleasant slumber. So, he instead he simply does his best to complete whatever work he can from the couch until you eventually wake up on your own
#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus ii#primo#secondo#terzo#copia#cardinal copia#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#papa emeritus x reader#primo x reader#secondo x reader#terzo x reader#copia x reader#cardinal copia x reader#popia x reader#popia#headcanons#my writing#papa emeritus fanfiction#ghost fanfiction#the band ghost#ghost the band#terzo is a diva and I stand by this statement
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Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅
WARNING!! - NSFW
All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style
Primo
Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)
Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you
Soft and slow, very gentle
Long, painted strokes along your entire area
Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit
Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth
Secondo
Roughly fingers you while eating you out
Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you
Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too
Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him
Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)
Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)
Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him
Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs
Massages your ass and tits while eating you out
Terzo
Would die happy drowned in pussy
Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day
Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt
In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)
Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress
LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe
Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides
Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit
Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming
Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)
Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue
While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will
Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that
Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)
Copia
Kisses every inch of you
Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)
Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)
Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face
Wants to be used like your sex toy
Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off
Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response
He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times
Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it
Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”
Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)
#the band ghost#papa emeritus x reader#ghost band fanfic#ghost band smut#copia is my husband#ghost band headcanons#ghost band fanfiction#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#papa emeritus iv x female reader#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus ii x female reader#terzo fanfiction#terzo x reader#terzhoe#primo x reader#papa primo#secondo fanfiction#papa terzo x reader#copia x female reader#cardinal copia smut
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Papas Accidentally Being Too Rough in Bed (Headcanons)
I have no clue where this spawned from but please enjoy scaring the Papas when they’re accidentally too rough with you and then doing everything they can to make up for it.
mostly sfw, tw for being rough on accident, possessiveness, hurt/comfort.
Primo
It’s wild because you didn’t think Primo could get that rough in bed, given his age. But there are bruises that he apologizes for after, ones he kisses with each apology. He brings out a special cream and gently applies it to the abused skin.
He makes you stay in bed while he pampers you, grabbing yummy snacks and making a cup of your favorite tea. He even hand feeds you, babying you until you tell him that really, you’re okay. You are showered in apologies and words of love and reassurance before being wrapped up into his arms and snuggled to death.
Secondo
Secondo thinks you’re whining to be bratty but when his belt comes away with blood, he’s never dropped anything so fast. He’s quick to untie you, cursing and apologizing profusely. He assesses the damage with worry, grabbing a warm damp towel to clean your backside.
He gently shushes you when you whimper from the sting, kissing your temple and telling you that you’re doing so, so good for him. After sanitizing and bandaging the wound, he’ll clean the two of you up and pull you into his arms in a tight embrace— though he’s careful of your injury.
Apologizes for hurting you, promising that he hadn’t meant to and that it was his fault for misjudging how much strength he was using. You tell him you forgive him and he almost cries— you let him spoil you for the rest of the night and weeks to follow.
Terzo
It’s more of an accident than anything, for how clumsy Terzo is. He’s so eager in bed to please you and make you feel good that when he’s going down on you, he accidentally slams you against the bed frame a little too forcefully. You can’t help the involuntary sound of pain that escapes you and things happen so quickly because next thing you know, you’re in Terzo’s shaking arms as he begs for forgiveness, frantically checking if you’re badly hurt.
After he checks your backside to see that there’s a little bruising he apologizes even more and places the most gentlest of kisses against your skin. You are bundled up in blankets and love afterwards and since then, Terzo’s been very careful when it comes to sexy times.
Copia
With Copia it’s also unexpected but for different reasons. Though he’s certainly enthusiastic in bed, he’s always been gentle and very attentive to pleasing you. While he can get rough every so often, it’s still tame compared to most. He’s a very considerate lover, always checking in, always making sure he’s not gripping you too hard, not holding you too tight.
You didn’t expect him to have such a jealous streak however— despite wanting to tease him. It was Swiss’s idea to flirt with each other to rile him up, which definitely does the trick. And oh boy is it a night to remember. He’s intense and possessive, growling as he fucks you hard, his words melting together as he tells you that you’re his, that he’s going to show you that no one can fuck you better than him, will love you better.
You’re left with bruises on your hips and dark hickies littering your skin. You would laugh at Copia’s expression if it wasn’t so horrified. You reassure him that you enjoyed it, that it was what you wanted. Still, he apologizes and cares for you after— running a bath for you and tenderly helping you wash your hair, gently running fingers over the bruises he’s made. He still looks so guilty but it’s okay because you kiss it all better until he’s out of breath.
#the band ghost#copia#terzo#secondo#ghost band#primo#ghost bc#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#cardinal copia x reader#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#secondo x reader#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iv x female reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#headcanons
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soft, sleepy sex with the papas
summary: Four short-ish scenarios, one for each Papa, in which you get to do some crossword-solving with Primo, come home after a night-out with Secondo, wake up with Terzo or watch a movie with Copia.
content: 4.8k words in total (each is 1k-1.4k words), f!readers, sort of established relationships, dom/sub undertones if you squint, obviously these contain smut, more detailed warnings in each part, 18+ MDNI
Masterlist – Ao3 link
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Primo
content: p in v because peepaw can still get it
Half-asleep on Primo’s bare chest, you draw lazy patterns into the fuzzy hair on his left pec, your palm resting just above his steady heartbeat. He keeps one arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding a weathered little book that is open on a half-done crossword puzzle, while his other hand slowly fills in the empty squares. It’s Italian, so you gave up trying to help him a while ago, dozing to the sound of graphite scratching on paper.
But you know you won’t sleep yet. There is a gentle but very persistent simmer in the pit of your stomach. You’ve wanted your Papa all day but when he got home earlier, tired and irritable after an argument with Sister, you hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now, after a light dinner and some restful time with you curled up against him, he seems a lot calmer.
Inhaling his slightly herbal scent, you decide to at least try – he’s going to let you know if he’s not up for it. A kiss to his wrinkly neck and your fingers start trailing from his chest down to his belly. Slow circles with your index and middle finger, caressing the saggy skin with as much affection as you can pour into such a delicate touch.
You feel him stir, so you move your hand further down, stroking his abdomen. A soft hum deep inside his chest. His hand sinks, the pencil slipping from his fingers. It’s your cue to keep going, so you toy with the hem of his pajama pants. When you let your hand slip beneath the elastic, you’re excited to find him half-hard, curved against the left side of his pelvis.
He’d been struggling with intimacy as of late – his age, all the hard work and general worries catching up with him, a sort of vicious cycle that led to some changes in your shared bedroom. He takes care of you in other ways, very generously, but tonight, for once, he seems truly relaxed, and you feel him slowly harden against your palm.
“Do you feel good?” you whisper. “Should I keep going?”
“Mhm.”
You stamp wet kisses down his neck, sucking on the spot that always makes him shudder. You continue to slowly stroke him, a leisurely pace, until he’s fully hard and leaking onto your fingers.
“I thought you are tired,” he murmurs.
You smile. “I am, but I just miss you so much.”
“I’m right here, la mia rosa. Every night.”
More kisses. You softly suck on the spot below his jaw, and his hips buck up into your touch. “You know what I mean, Papa.”
Primo draws a sharp breath, the arm he had wrapped around you slowly uncurling as he throws the book across the bed. His hand moves to your ass, a tight squeeze and he urges you to move closer. You crawl on top of him, hot, liquid excitement flowing through your veins at the prospect of finally having him inside of you again.
With one hand, you prop yourself up on his chest while you move your sleeping shorts out of the way with the other. You settle on his cock, rubbing your wet folds over his length and slicking it with your arousal. You grind on him a few times and you both gasp at the feeling. His hands fly to your hips, sharp fingernails digging deeper into your flesh when you finally place him at your entrance. He slips inside, the stretch immensely rewarding after going without it for so long, and despite the sleepiness still clinging to you, you try your best to move on him. Limited energy has you resting your upper body on his, chest against chest, only separated by your shirt. You lean in for a kiss as you slowly roll your hips. The pace you’re setting with your mouth as well as your body is slow, almost sluggish, but even so you can feel the ripples of pleasure all over your body.
“Amore?” Primo whispers against your lips and you hum into his mouth. “I missed you, too.”
And then he’s suddenly thrusting up into you. You moan against his tongue and he does it again, chuckling as you keen and cling to the headboard. A shudder tears through your whole body and your mouth slips from his, your face slotting against his neck instead when he gives another thrust.
Primo wraps his arms around you in a hug. “You’re tired, let me do the rest.”
You want to protest, remind him of his back issues and the pain he’d felt in his hip joint all week, but he’s already rolling you over. He knows you wouldn’t have been able to cum from your slow movements alone and he also knows you wouldn’t have minded, but he always tells you that making you cum is the highest form of worship for him. And Primo loves to worship.
As soon as he’s on top of you he shifts into position, propped up on his elbows on either side of you pushing back into your dripping entrance very slowly. You hold him steady, arms wrapped around his shoulder to try and keep him for overexerting himself. His rhythm isn’t much faster than yours, but his movements are more deliberate – precise thrusts hitting you exactly where you need him. Already you clench around him, moaning as more pleasure pools into your lower belly.
Primo is breathing heavily and the frequency of his pants tells you he’s close.
“Touch yourself for your Papa, amore,” he whispers.
You move your hands between your bodies and start to rub your clit. It doesn’t take much until you completely let go. You come almost simultaneously, moaning into each others skin as your bodies tremble with pleasure. You can feel his hot seed dripping out of you when he shifts, a sharp hiss as you eventually untangle your limbs.
Primo slowly, carefully, rolls off of you, sinking back into his pillow with a low, pained hmpf. You lean over and open your mouth to ask if he’s okay but he’s already waving his hand to stop you, a delighted sigh leaving his lips as his body relaxes. You snuggle back into him, kissing the hot, sweaty skin on his cheek. This has exhausted him but the blissful expression on his usually so grim face tells you he won’t regret it no matter how much his joints are going to hurt tomorrow.
“I love you, la mia rosa,” he mumbles into your hair. “Thank you for reminding your Papa that you still desire him so.”
“Hm, I love you, too,” you mumble, already drifting off.
The last thing you hear is his chuckle and the click of the switch as he turns off the light.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Secondo
content: biting, praise, v fingering, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones if you squint
The smell of smoke, sweat and liquor still lingers in your nose, now accompanied by the sweet and woody scent of Secondo’s sandalwood shower gel. The club had been packed, despite it’s exclusivity, and after a night of dancing and being pushed around by other bodies, you’re ready to fall asleep with his heavy arms draped around you. After all of the noise and the heavy, blasting music, you welcome the soft quiet of his bedroom, the dull buzzing of his toothbrush and your own even breathing the only sounds in your ears.
When Secondo exits the bathroom, the open door casts a narrow ray of fluorescent light onto your half-sleeping form. He quickly flips the switch and closes the door as quietly as he can. In the near-dark, he observes the silhouette of your body, all the curves and lines and edges he’s grown to love so much. You haven’t been sleeping in this bed for very long – it’s only been a few weeks since he decided he won’t let you leave again. Now, as he sheds his bathrobe and crawls under the silky sheets to join you, he thinks that it was probably the best decision of his life.
You can feel his naked body settling against your back, the warmth of his soft skin drawing a sigh from your lips. His strong arm wraps around you, pushing under your armpit to press flat against your front, pulling you even closer. As his hand moves to gently cup your breast, you can feel a tired exhale against your neck.
“As much as I love going out with you,” he murmurs. “This is my favorite.”
His lips softly press to the velvet skin below your ear. A few slow but needy kisses leave a wet trail all over your neck, his hand squeezing your breast in tandem with each one.
“You looked so beautiful tonight, amore.” Another kiss, this time to the back of your neck, and a shiver rolls down your spine. “Everyone in the club envied me.”
You chuckle softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him more space. “I’m pretty sure they were staring at you, my love.”
“Ah, che sciocchezza!” His lips attach to your skin, sucking gently at first, then with more force. You indulge him, the stinging sensation barely registering with your exhaustion as he bites into your flesh. He keeps busy there until you whimper at the burning sensation.
But Secondo knows he is right and it’s the reason why you have this big purple bruise blossoming on your neck right now. He is nothing but attentive, observant, and it gives him great confidence to watch other people admire you, then flinch away when they notice that you’re with him. He loves to subtly show you off – until someone actually tries to chat you up like today. It’s always the same, a sudden surge of need to show everyone that you’re his and he’s all over you, the public setting quickly forgotten. Secondo almost fucked you right there on the dance floor, not unprecedented, but after someone repeatedly rammed their elbow into his side he decided that it was too busy tonight.
But it’s okay because by now the high wore off, leaving him only mildly horny and mostly sleepy just like you. He thinks he wants to be gentle now, slowly fuck you both to sleep.
His lips come off your neck with a wet pop. He pushes his other arm underneath you, fingers searching the heat between your legs, but when he lets his hand slide down your middle, he’s met with the fabric of your panties.
“Ah.” He tsks softly into your ear, pulling them down slightly. “Since when do we wear clothes to bed, eh?”
You groan tiredly but don’t object, lifting your leg to help him remove the piece of fabric. Soft fingers slide between your legs now, pressing against your mound. He’s tentative, sensual, wet lips running over your neck and up to your ear.
“Will you let me have you, amore?” he whispers. “You know your Papa wanted you all night.”
You wake up your voice with a soft hum. “Yes, Papa.”
“You’re so good for me, always so good.”
More kisses, this time to the shell of your ear, your earlobe, your cheek. You smell his minty toothpaste and turn your head for a proper kiss. His free hand moves to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing into your neck to adjust the angle. The kiss is languid just like his fingers working on your clit now. A soft whine escapes you and his tongue sweeps inside to meet yours in a gentle greeting. Your mind gets hazy with his taste, the soft ripples of pleasure in your core, his now hard cock pressing into your back. You want him, need him, and so you wriggle, pushing your ass into his groin. He accommodates you by sliding two fingers into your wet entrance, increasing the pressure.
“Secondo, please,” you whimper.
“Ah.” He stops altogether, pulling back to look at you with intense mismatched eyes. “Being tired is no excuse for misbehaving.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. Please.”
“Mhm.” His movements resume. “Brava ragazza. So tired and still you beg for your Papa’s cock.”
Your head falls back into the pillows as Secondo shifts, removing his hands to adjust your hips, slotting them together. His cock slips between your legs then and you moan softly when you feel it slide right against your folds. He slowly pushes in, using his free hand on your belly to keep you pressed tightly to his chest, the other one lifting your leg up just enough so he can move inside of you. The stretch is beautifully slow, his mouth back on your ear now, and you reach over to scratch the back of his neck.
He hums at your loving caress, a low rumble that gives you butterflies, and then he pulls back, pushing back in deeper. You close your eyes and revel in the gentle rhythm he sets. For a while, all you hear are your soft gasps, his low moans right by your ear and the sound of his skin meeting yours. Your orgasm builds slowly but you can both feel it approaching, Secondo spreading out his fingers on your abdomen until he can reach your clit again. He speeds up just slightly, squelching noises filling your ears whenever his cock slides in to hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. His own breaths are ragged now but he’s holding back until he gets you there first, always.
“Come for your Papa,” he whispers against your ear with surprising softness. “Be good for me and come on Papa’s cock.”
You do, clenching around him as his words send you over the edge with a voiceless cry. He joins you, growling, hips stuttering into yours a few more times as he draws out both of your highs. Your exhausted body goes limp, only shuddering again when he eventually pulls out.
A soft exhale as he wraps you up in his arms, his sweaty chest warm against your back. You vaguely feel his thumb caressing your arm, the gentle pattern lulling you to sleep. Neither of you is going to move again before the sun rises and the birdsong inevitably wakes you.
“Sleep well, amore,” Secondo whispers, kissing the purple bruise on your neck one more time.
You sigh deeply, weaving your fingers through his, and slowly drift off.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Terzo
content: cunnilingus, v fingering, mentions of mental health issues
A tickle at your neck. You stir and scrunch up your face, shifting onto your side to get away. It’s adorable, Terzo thinks, so he does it again, a featherlight kiss just below your ear. You twitch slightly once more, the duvet slipping from your shoulder and revealing your bare upper body to him. Half-hovering above you, it’s easy to press yet another kiss to your neck and watch your irritated pout, eyebrows pulled tightly together. Your hand flexes then, and he’s almost sure you’re going to swat him away like a fly but your fingers uncurl after a second, smoothing out on the mattress.
Waking up with you in his bed makes him unnecessarily giddy, weightless in a way he hasn’t felt in years. And after looking at your peaceful form for a moment longer he decides that he needs your attention more than you need your sleep. So the next kiss is harder. He finds an almost faded hickey right below your jaw, licking over the skin he traps between his lips and sucking with more fervour.
You give a soft groan that vibrates against his mouth. “Terzo, ’m still sleeping.”
He breaks away with a loud smacking sound, then boops your shoulder with his nose. “No, you’re not.”
“But I’m still tired,” you whine, burying your face deeper into the pillow.
“Aww,” he cooes. “Too tired for your Papa?”
You hum sleepily, your brain not yet fully awake. Terzo won’t let you off the hook. He wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you into his warm body. Looking down with your blurry gaze, you notice a tendon in his arm twitching as he slots his pelvis against yours. You can feel him rock hard against your ass now, poking into the supple flesh of your butt cheek. So this is why he woke you up early on a Sunday morning and not to get you croissants and coffee.
“I am shocked,” he says. “Offended. Mortally wounded.”
“Mhm, Terzo…”
“You know, you’ve been wriggling against me in your sleep,” he interrupts your complaint. “I bet I’d find you already wet for me, dolce. Tell me, did you dream about your Papa?”
Shifting your legs, you realise that he’s right. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d really been dreaming about him just before he woke you. For the past month, he’s been occupying your every thought, every fading dream, every waking moment. What you thought would be a one time thing turned into a two and three and many more times thing, late night McDonald’s runs, hour-long phone conversations when he can’t sleep after his anxiety attacks, countless lunch dates just to have one extra daily hour in each other’s company… and now actually sleeping together, staying the night. This is uncharted territory but as your mind slowly regains its grasp on reality, you’re more than ready to explore what it means.
“I must have,” you admit. “I often do.”
“Oh, really?” His lips trail from your shoulder back to your neck, his voice a low whisper against your ear. “Well, I dream about you too, my little dormiglione, every night.”
You feel your circulation coming to live, heat rushing into your cheeks and between your legs. “Really?”
“Mhm. Do you want to know what my favorite dream is?”
You fight the urge to rub your crusty eyes. “Yes.”
His grasp on you loosens and he turns you onto your back, gently cradling your face. You don’t feel self-conscious about your sleepy, unkempt state for more than a second because there is nothing but pure affection in his mismatched gaze.
“I will show you, amore,” he promises. “A little demonstration is just what we need to wake you up, sì?”
His words register only after he’s kissing down your neck. With an insistent mouth, he latches onto your breast, sighing when he feels the soft flesh against his face. You bury your fingers in his raven hair, gently scratching his scalp, and he moans lowly against your skin. The vibration has you arching into his touch and his eyes snap up at you. They never leave yours as he scoots further down the bed, leaving a wet trail of kisses all over your belly.
Terzo settles between your legs, spreading them just enough to nuzzle one of your inner thighs. Unshaved, his cheeks feel scratchy against your skin and he rubs them against you a few more times with an almost boyish smile. He’s beautiful, even more so in his unkempt state, stubbly jaw, messy hair, eyes still a little puffy. For once he is not tense, not on guard, and you can’t help but reach out and brush a stray piece of hair out of his face. You look at each other in shared vulnerability and for a moment, he leans into your touch, a tender, loving expression softening his features. But then his eyes glint with mischief as he grins and stuffs his face right into your pussy.
You keen, arching your back. His nose is pressed against your clit, tongue pushing into your entrance, and your hips buck involuntarily. You can’t help but moan – loudly, desperately – and he pulls away with a chuckle.
“Ahhh, there you are. Good morning, sunshine. Not so tired anymore now, eh?” All you can do is whimper at the loss of his touch and his lips curl into a satisfied grin. “Per favore, will you let your Papa have his breakfast now? You know I have a sweet tooth.”
You nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip in anticipation. His face is glistening with your arousal and his eyes narrow just slightly.
“Words, dolce.”
“Yes,” you croak, throat still scratchy. “Please, Papa.”
He chuckles again, moving his hands up your thighs to open them wider before he brings one to your abdomen, the other slowly spreading your folds for him. “So wet, dolce. Your dreams must be even more exciting than mine.”
Words have long since escaped you. Just watching him so readily offer you pleasure is enough to make you light-headed. He licks a broad stripe up from your entrance to your clit where he stays, sucking gingerly at first before he hungrily starts to devour you.
Your eyes flutter close again but not from sleepiness this time.
“Eyes on me,” he demands immediately. “We don’t want you falling back asleep, yes?”
There is no danger of that, your body is burning, muscles clenching with the little energy you have, but you still follow his order. His eyes are on yours as he breaks away, creating space to push one and then two fingers into your waiting hole. You tighten around him with a moan, your whole lower body pulsating with need. A wicked grin and he rubs his fingers against your inner wall, looking for the spot that makes your toes curls. By now, he’s practiced, so in tune with your body that the firm, constant pressure brings you close very fast. When he sees your shudder, his mouth is back on your clit, sucking, licking, humming until you clench around his digits, hips bucking into his face as you ride out your climax.
You only notice how tightly you’ve been gripping the sheets when Terzo crawls back up to you, gently taking your hand in his. He kisses each of your aching knuckles before he uses your hand as an extension to his, cleaning up his messy face and sucking your fingers into his mouth with such tender care that it makes you smile, your heart almost bursting with love for him.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.
“Terzo, I haven’t brushed my–”
His mouth collides with yours, tongue dipping into your mouth hungrily. You taste yourself on him but there is barely any time to take it in, your brain still hazy and clouded from your high. When he breaks away, he gives you a pointed look. “Do I look like I care?”
You softly shake your head and wrap your arms around his back, keeping him close. Fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck, your breathing slowly evens.
“I love waking up with you,” you mumble with a smile. “Not just because of this. If you let me, I want you to be the first thing I see every day for the rest of my life.”
“If I let you?” His eyes soften and he gives an almost pained smile, struggling to accept the truth behind your words. But then he huffs out an exhale, pushing his hip back against you. “Amore, do you honestly think I will ever allow you to leave this bed again?”
With his painfully hard and leaking cock pressed against your thigh, the answer to his question is quite clear. You mentally say goodbye to breakfast. There are far more inviting things to sustain you than food.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
Copia
content: soft!dom copia just bc I can, praise kink, thigh riding, v fingering, gloves
A murmur right by your ear. “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” A short pause. “Chianti.”
You’re about to fall asleep on Copia’s tiny bed, dim candlelight and his warmth surrounding you. The Silence of the Lambs is running in the background on a grainy VHS tape, Copia mumbling most of the dialogue to himself, practically lulling you to sleep. You’re half on top of him, legs intertwined, a mess of tangled red limbs in matching sweatpants. He knows you aren’t paying any attention to the movie with the way your nose evenly exhales against his windpipe, but after the long day you had that’s no surprise.
His arms automatically close around you, squeezing your tired body closer to his. The shift pushes his knee further between your legs and you feel a slight pressure against your clit. Copia continues to mumble but your focus shifts to the burning sensation in your core. His thigh is firm against your pussy and you tentatively move your hips a little. It’s innocent enough at first, a wriggle to get more comfortable. Copia presses a kiss to your hair, a searching hand finding your waist for a comforting squeeze.
It only serves to make you more restless. You roll your hips, desperate for more friction. He catches on by the third time you do it, the hand on your side sliding down, fingers spreading over your hip as he pulls you in closer. You continue to grind on his thigh, slow but steady, soft moans tumbling from your lips. After a few seconds he starts to massage you through the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling you forward so you slide over his leg even harder. You keen and grab at his t-shirt right above his chest, scrunching up the fabric. The pressure feels too good, shivers running down your spine and into your core.
“So needy,” Copia whispers on his next exhale, tickling the skin just below your ear. “Your Papa loves it when you use him to get off, tesoro. When you make a mess all over his thigh.”
You whimper again, louder, higher, too exhausted to move as fast as you’d need to find some actual relief. His hand slides under the elastic of your pants, warm black leather against soft, delicate skin, and he gives an encouraging squeeze.
“Do you want me to help you, topolina?” he asks, voice low and deep.
“Mhm.”
“You have to ask, my baby,” he reminds you. “I want to hear it.”
“Please, Papa, help me.”
“Tell me what you need from me.”
“I n-need your fingers, Papa. Please.”
Soft lips brush your temple. “Hm, so good for me. But you sound tired, amore, are you sure you can take it?”
Your voice comes out in a strangled whine. “Yes, Papa. Please.”
He stops your movements, and you wail in disappointment as he pulls his leg away from you, a dark red patch staining the red cotton. But his hands quickly find your hip again, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Don’t worry, amore,” he says, pushing the hem down to your knees. “Your Papa is going to take care of you.”
His fingertips dance up your thigh and move straight between your legs, probing at your entrance. Rubbing along your folds, he spreads out your arousal all over the black leather. Copia hums when he feels how ready you are for him, pushing two fingers inside of you with ease. You moan at the stretch, clenching around his digits as he curls them inside of you.
“Hm, you like that, amore?”
You hum, pressing your hot forehead against his neck. He slowly starts to move, an almost languid pace but his thrusts are deliberate, hitting you right every time. Rippling waves of pleasure run all over your body and leave a trail of goosebumps. You’re getting close, shifting, wriggling. The wet noises of his hand moving against you drown out the sounds of the movie. With your last remaining effort, you move your hips, joining his rhythm.
Copia hums in approval. “Hmm, yes, use my hand, make yourself come, topolina.”
You cry out as you clench tightly around his fingers, the sound muffled by his sweaty skin against your lips. He can feel you shuddering against him, and you slowly turn into a panting, whimpering mess in his arms. With a few last curls of his fingers, he carries you through your orgasm, smiling at every little tremor he can coax out of you.
“Hmmm, so good for your Papa.” More wet kisses to your face. “You did so well, amore.”
You come to, smiling softly at his praise as the room around you becomes clearer. You notice the lights of the tv flickering off the walls. Buffalo Bill probably just murdered someone, but Copia must have turned down the sound because all you can hear is his slightly increased heartbeat when you settle on his chest. He pulls up your sweatpants and continues to hold you against him, kissing your hair so softly you can barely even feel it. Your body starts to feel heavier, drowsiness taking over now that you’re sated. You close your eyes and let the lingering feeling of bliss carry you into a peaceful slumber.
⛧ ✦ ⛧
if anyone skipped over primo I am going to find you and haunt you forever.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Any sort of interaction or feedback is as always much appreciated ♡
Masterlist – My Ao3
#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus i x reader#primo#papa emeritus i fanfiction#primo x reader#primo fanfiction#secondo fanfiction#secondo#secondo x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus ii fanfiction#terzo#terzo x reader#terzo fanfiction#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus iii fanfiction#copia#copia x reader#copia fanfiction#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iv x reader#papa emeritus iv fanfiction#primo smut#secondo smut#terzo smut#copia smut
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Sinners' tango
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It wasn't just meant to be a small collection of Papa x Sister of Sin!Reader, but also to have a little interpretation key. So, as usual, I invite you to comment/like to show your support!
I really like the idea that the Ministry of Ghosts is a matriarchal pyramid, where even though Papa seems like the most important figure, Sister Imperator is the one who holds the reins of everything. Furthermore, I like that this isn't seen as a threat to anyone's masculinity within the clergy.
This series had a bit of this in mind. The woman isn't shown to allow more or less everyone to insert/identify themselves, yet her presence is so strong that even without ever seeing her face, you should be able to perceive her as the dominant figure in the composition. Sometimes she simply doesn't bother to look at those who are looking at the images, as if leaving the dirty work to someone else, other times she plays with her men, who allow themselves to be moved docilely.
There's also a certain sensuality, the idea of intimacy between the sister and the pope, and the various popes looking into the camera is like an awareness of their position. It's a submissive, almost devoted but still proud. Except for Copia, but not because he's not devoted to her, but because he, more than anyone, couldn't take his eyes off her.
#cardinal copia#terzhoe#secondo#primo#terzo#ghost bc#the band ghost#nihil emeritus#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iv#papa copia#copia is my husband#papa emeritus x reader#sister of sin#kinktober#kinktober 2023#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost band smut#popia copia#copia x reader#primo emeritus#primo x reader#secondo emeritus#secondo x reader#i miss secondo#secondo my beloved#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus i x female reader
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October 9th
Glory Hole, Papa Emeritus I x GN!Reader
Masterlist
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Glory holes; sex work; gn!Reader (but reader has a vulva); major inspiration from those slavic glory hole porn videos (iykyk); free use; fingering; overstimulation; cunnilingus; pussy worship (because of course there is); body worship (because this is Primo we’re talking about, man will lavish you in praise unprovoked); squirting; multiple orgasms; unprotected sex; piv sex; spanking; I may have accidentally made this reader plus size so if you are, great, if not, also great… ;
Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals
🔞 MDNI 🔞
There were times in one’s life where partaking in sins of the flesh wasn’t quite as romantic as one always wanted. The church, of course, always promoted the use of sexual rituals when it came to invoking the Dark One, as well as carnal lust being one of the most important fundamentals of their beliefs. However, sometimes sex was a bare necessity. Banging one out was akin to taking your car to the mechanic to get the oil changed, or cleaning your house and resetting it every season.
Primo, being the old man he was now, didn’t often find himself partaking in rituals anymore. Didn’t feel like he wanted to play cat and mouse with a pretty young sister - or old sister, he wasn’t picky. The idea of wooing a goddess every time exhausted his old brain, thus when nature did call on him, as rare as it was, he would go down to the basement levels where strings of Siblings also needed some attention and couldn’t be bothered with chasing down someone they deemed attractive. Where faces could remain hidden and the thrill of anonymity heightened the pleasurable experiences.
The Ministry’s glory hole.
Now, it seems ridiculous and kind of culty that a religious sect would own a plethora of custom built glory holes, I completely understand. But it just seemed fitting to have one when so many people live in a small space, and a large portion of these people are insanely horny introverts.
So, Primo walked into the corridor that lead to private rooms, chose the orifice he wanted to use and entered the room. After knocking, of course, he wasn’t a monster. The Sibling who was waiting for him had been propped up on a cardboard structure, the perfect height for the average penis-wielder. They were positioned on their stomach, allowing whoever came in two holes to easily play with.
Primo grabbed the camping chair that had been folded neatly in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the hole. His head was at the perfect height to play with the Sibling with his hands and mouth, which is something he intended to do first. Primo, like all of the Papas after him, was a very attentive lover - gracious, even with people he was to spend only twenty minutes with. He had no idea how long they’d been there, but he could see by their bare and swollen folds (and even a droplet of cum on the floor) that they had been used before him. Therefore, he wet two of his own fingers and delicately placing them inside them, tentatively, so as not to hurt their already sensitive pussy. They hissed at the feeling, the overstimulation catching up to them, but the moan that followed afterwards told Primo that they were still ready and happy to go. The light above their hole was green, so he knew the other person was consenting to this.
Green light - good to go.
Yellow light - stop what you’re doing and switch it up.
Red light - stop completely.
Everyone within the booths had buttons to press to express their consent as well as alarms just in case someone overstayed their welcome. Big and burly Ministry officers would come charging in and forcibly remove the other person if needs be. Safety was always the most important thing.
When Primo pulled his fingers out, the only thing coating them was the Sibling’s juices, meaning whoever had used them before had cleaned up after themselves. Primo grunted in appreciation. He didn’t mind eating cum out of a pussy, provided it was his own. With the confirmation he needed, Primo nuzzled into the Sibling’s folds, and allowed his tongue to flick over the sensitive bud softly, tentatively making sure this was okay before proceeding to get more intense. The light remained green.
So, Primo placed his hands on the Sibling’s deliciously plump ass and spread them apart, giving him complete and unobstructed access to his favourite place of worship. His tongue darted erratically over the Sibling’s clit, alternating between licking and sucking. He knew this was a hit with the Sibling, given that their hips were rocking back and forth, working Primo’s nose deeper into their wetness. They tried not to give away their identity with their voice, but their moans and little gasps of “yes!” and “more!” wasn’t helping them. Thankfully, Primo didn’t recognise their voice, but his cock was certainly standing to attention and appreciative of the noises it was hearing.
Pulling away temporarily, Primo inserted two of the same fingers into the Sibling’s slick hole and curved downward, roughly fingering them as he sucked on their clit. He had been around long enough to know exactly what to do and how to please whatever partner he was with, and the Sibling’s gasps of affirmation was enough for him to know that they were seriously enjoying him. It wasn’t long before his fingers felt the familiar tightness, and his face became drenched in the Sibling’s cum, their squirt trickling out of them and flooding the shelf they were lay on. Papa only stopped when he saw the light turn yellow.
He stood and removed the chair, placing it back to where he got it from, before undressing himself. He was a traditional man, preferring to be completely nude under his robes, and so he stood as naked as the Sibling, cock standing freely and begging to sink into the sopping cunt in front of him. In reassurance, and perhaps a gentle warning, Primo placed one of his hands on the Sibling’s ass and stroked it gently. He ran his cock through their folds once, twice, three times before easing himself in gently. The Sibling’s gasp was music to his ears, and it took everything in him not to thrust forward and take his own pleasure. But he held on to the very last bit of sanity he had for the sake of this poor Sibling’s overworked hole. Even with his cock working its way inside the Sibling, he was still giving them reassuring touches and being as gentle as possible. But their pussy was warm, and wet, and fluttering with every movement. He hadn’t felt this good in years.
Papa didn’t care who knew he was in there, he just wanted to make sure the Sibling was comfortable. “Flash your light green when you’re ready for me to move.” He requested.
After a few seconds the light flashed, and Primo began his assault.
The thrusts were tentative and shallow at first, but soon enough he let his wants take over him. His pace quickened and his hands gripped tightly onto the Sibling’s hips to ground and allow himself to hit the right spots more precisely. He would alternate between quick, short thrusts to long, powerful hits where he’d slam himself back in and reach the very back of their hole. He needed this. He didn’t realise just how horny he’d been until he sank deep into the Sibling. He’d almost forgotten how good a tight, wet cunt felt wrapped around his achingly hard cock. Sathanas - if He was good, He would allow Primo more reminders of his youth so he could come back down and play with as many Siblings as he could get his hands on. But he almost wanted to keep this Sibling forever. He wanted to find out who they were. He wanted to bring them up to his chambers and watch their voluptuous ass bounce on his cock as he lay on the bed like a King.
He watched with intent as their ass jiggled at the recoil, every time his hips rammed against it and bounced with the force. He bit his lip and let out a groan, resisting the urge to spank. He didn’t want to do anything the Sibling was uncomfortable with. “C-can I spank you? Fl-flash if yes.”
Another flash, this one even faster than before. Primo chuckled. His hand came down with a slap over and over again, the intensity getting bigger and bigger until their right cheek was red and raw with the impact. Every time he hit them, they squeaked like a little mouse. Between each hit was a reassuring rub, followed by an even more intense one. Sometimes, he would couple the slap with the timing of his cock hitting their cervix. This would earn him an unintentional scream.
When Primo had tired of the spanking, he moved his hand under their bodies and began working his middle finger at the Sibling’s clit. They had already cum once by Primo’s mouth, and it felt great when their cunt constricted his fingers, but he was desperate to feel it around his cock. With the amount they were worked up, he didn’t believe it would be long before they came. And sure enough, the familiar tightness began to appear and Primo felt their walls closing in again. His own throat released a growl as the Sibling’s orgasm ripped one of his own and his balls emptied inside them. They stayed connected for a moment, Primo being too tired to move but also not wanting it to end. But eventually, he pulled out, hissing at the loss of warmth.
His eyes were transfixed on the Sibling’s pussy, watching his cum ooze out of them like melted ice cream down a cone. His finger ran through the mess and gathered it before licking it off. He couldn’t help himself. Once more he unfolded the chair from the corner and set to work abusing their cunt in the sweetest of ways.
The Sibling, who was now almost entirely fuck-drunk and brain dead from orgasms, was babbling incoherently to themselves on the other side of the wall. Their hips were bucking at the feeling of Primo’s tongue eating his own cum out of their cunt and they could hardly contain themselves. Their hand moved backwards, reaching for Primo’s bald head and pushing him further into their cunt as though they were desperate for another orgasm. “Papa!” They cried. “L-like that! Right th-ere. Oh fuck! Please don’t stop! Don’t stop!” And it didn’t take much more than a nudge to the clit to have them tipping over again and cumming for the third time from Primo’s body alone. They were completely breathless by the time Primo pulled away, and in their somewhat delusional state, they clumsily climbed out of the hole and exposed their entirely naked body and face to their Papa.
“Hey, hey!” Primo said, concern in his voice as he watched the exhausted Sibling sway. He gently moved them to the seat and had them sit on it. “Are you okay, little one?”
They nodded. “I wanted to see you.”
Primo chuckled fondly. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He wrapped his own robes around the Sibling, who was now shaking, and stood behind them giving them an awkward back hug, trying to bring warmth back to their adrenaline-filled body. “What’s your name?”
“I’m ___.” They answered. “C-can I see you again, Papa? Please?”
It had been a long time since a person had attached themselves to him because of his bedroom prowess. “Only for coffee, little ___. Your head is not clear enough for other decisions.”
They nodded. Primo found themselves looking at them in adoration - they were so unbelievably cute. If nothing else, Papa may have just made himself a new friend.
Previous Day ⛧ Next Day
#mel writes#kinktober 2023#ghost kinktober#the band ghost#ghost#ghost bc#ghost band#ghost the band#papa emeritus i#primo#smut#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus#papa emeritus x reader smut#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus i x reader smut#papa primo#papa primo x reader#papa primo x reader smut#primo x reader#primo x reader smut#ghost fan fiction#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfiction#the band ghost fanfiction
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Its valentines day so choose your
weapons of sin
you filthy animals
#vday#papa emeritus primo#papa emeritus fanfiction#papa terzo#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus lll#cardinal popia#copia fanart#copia#papa copia#cardinal copia#primo#papa primo#papa secondo#the band ghost#ghost fandom#ghost#papa emeritus secondo#secondo#secondo x reader#terzo fanart#terzo emeritus#terzo#the ghost band#the ghost band meme#the nameless ghouls#the nameless ghoul#ghost ghouls#ghouls
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Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader
Spawned from pure self-indulgence. I've been through more hospital visits these last four weeks than I have my entire life. I want someone to bundle me up and make my hand better. I hate hospitals and operations *sobs*. Enjoy nonetheless!
Content: 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)
This man will do everything in his power to make sure you’re looked after and relaxed.
Tea for days! He will try different flavours until he finds the one you like.
Dives headfirst into deep research as to which herbs help your injury heal, as well as calm your nerves. He knows his plants well, but he wants to know more. You deserve the best of the best.
Insists on going with you for infirmary visits even when you tell him you’re fine (you’re not really, but you just don't want him to worry.)
He will anyway.
Chronic worrier, especially given his age.
He takes his health VERY seriously, yours too! The Ministry has the best medical care around.
If you need a wound cleaned, stitches taken out, or other medicines, it's the place to get it.
Primo will be with you as much as he’s able to, even if that means he’s sitting for a long time while you’re being treated.
When you’re free and discharged—bandaged, bruised and probably feeling sore, he’ll take you back to his room for some TLC.
Will have a bath or shower with you, (in his jungle of a washroom), depending on what you prefer and smother you with all your favourite scents.
He’s a deeply caring individual and shows it openly.
Will speak gently to you, whisper sweetly and ensure you’re not overstimulated more than you have been.
“Shh, I know. I know amore. It’ll be over soon, just breathe for me.”
He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits.
You can squeeze his hand if you want.
If you need space for a bit after everything, he’ll gladly give it.
If not, prepare to receive a lot of kisses, especially on your forehead (a lot of them, like… SO many.)
He will help you bathe if you’re unable to, running a foaming washcloth over your skin carefully.
Let him wash your hair! It’s one of the things he adores doing for you!
Once you’re washed, warm and feeling more relaxed it’s time for more tea in bed with a snack if you want one!
He insists. Even if you don't feel like eating, try to drink something for him <3
“It will help you feel good and relax, Il mio fiore.” (My flower)
Fluids are important (wink-wonk).
Reminds you to take your meds like clockwork (always with tea and water)
You’re his petalo (petal) and he loves you dearly.
Will wrap you up in the mountain of blankets and faux furs he has on his lush bed. He’s old, he feels the cold more than others. At least he has you to keep him warm.
Secondo hates when you’re hurt/hurting in any capacity.
Even if it's something minor, he’ll worry about it to the point where he loses sleep over it.
He’s a big, brooding mother hen.
The Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier doesn’t stop at Primo.
This man wants you to be okay and it kills him when you’re not.
Will also go with you to the infirmary and stay with you.
The staff always find him a little intimidating, but they know he’s just worried sick. He’s kind to everyone, but honestly, he won't speak much unless spoken to.
“Are you alright, mio tesoro?” Is what he mainly asks, his voice so low it's close to a rumble.
Tries his best to make you feel relaxed.
Will make really, god-awful dad jokes that are so bad you do laugh.
He will quietly hold your hand the entire time, rubbing his bare fingers over our knuckles.
You rarely see him remove his gloves in public, but he HAS to be touching you. He insists.
He’s had enough knocks and breaks in his life to know how fragile the human body can be, but also how incredible it is at self-repair.
That doesn’t mean he views you as a fragile thing that needs to be wrapped in wool, but he loves you so deeply he would if you let him.
He admires your strength and resolve as you put up with being poked and prodded (by needles or with doctors.)
Once you’re released from care, good luck getting him to be anywhere less than within touching distance.
You’re getting a kiss. Lots of them. Mostly chaste and gentle.
You can tell it's because he worries about hurting you.
He relaxes a bit more when you kiss him HARD and bite at his bottom lip.
Will also help you bathe and shower. Again, touching distance. Just let him be near you for his own sanity.
Though he wouldn’t be upset if you need some space. He’s very understanding if you’re overstimulated.
Will linger outside the door in case you need anything.
Let him dry you off and dress you in comfortable clothes. He can see you that way.
He can see you’re still with him and that you’re safe.
He’ll touch you slowly, running his large hands over your skin.
Will spoon you once you’re in bed or let you curl into him.
He’ll bury his nose in your hair, breathe you in and say a wordless prayer to Lucifer that you recover quickly.
“Ti amo.” You hear him whisper as he presses a kiss to your forehead and strokes your hair.
Only falls asleep once he’s sure you have, holding you close the entire night.
Terzo. Oh, Terzo.
Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier? Check. Turn it up to eleven.
Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries.
He’s a fair mix of his brothers, both gentle and occasionally stoic given the shape you’re in.
If it's something minor, he’ll try to play it off with a bit of humour like he tends to do. He’ll make bad jokes (oh ho, you thought Secondo’s were bad just wait for this.)
If it’s something you need an operation for, this man will be silently out of his mind. *insert any internally screaming gif here*
He takes pride in his appearance, but you’ll start to notice cracks—dishevelled hair, a button not done up or a smudge of his paint.
It would worry you more if he didn’t have Omega or one of his brothers to make sure he’s drinking and eating regularly.
Tries to hide his stress. Fails. Rinse and repeat.
He doesn’t want you to worry about him, you’re the one in pain, about to be put under and Lucifer… What's he going to do if something happens?
He loves you. Adores you. You’re his life.
He knows how much you hate being stuck in hospitals and it pains him to see you stressed. The last thing he wants to do is add to that, so he’ll play it cool.
When you go in he’s pacing the halls.
Rest assured, the healthcare of the Ministry has you in safe hands.
It puts Terzo at ease, but don't expect him to leave your side when everything is over. He will sit at your bedside, kiss your knuckles and stroke your hair.
Let him touch you. Just let him.
He’s been through so much heartache in his life.
Will kiss each of your fingers and whisper sweet words to you.
“You’ll be okay, vita mia. Cuore mio. I’m here. I’m with you.” (My life. My heart.)
Maybe he’ll hum some songs too.
You’re his everything.
Once you’re ready and well enough to leave, you’re getting pampered to hell and back. This man worships the ground you walk on.
Whatever you want it's not too much. A bath? A shower? Just to get into bed and fall asleep? Terzo’s right there with you.
Dinner in his massive, plush bed with your favourite movie.
When you’re ready to sleep he’ll plaster himself to you. He would crawl inside your skin if he could.
Fitful sleeper. Wakes up a few times just to make sure you’re ok.
Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away.
Stroke his hair. He’s a sucker for that!
*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*
He’s learned bad habits from the Papas it seems.
Worrier. Yes, it's chronic. Seriously, are we sure this isn’t like the flu?
Paces a lot.
Good luck getting him to sit still.
If he's not pacing, he’s as close to you as physics will allow.
Lots of touching. Will rest his head by your hip if he’s tired from all that pacing.
Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.
He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles.
All that stress tires him out.
“Mi dispiace, amore. Non sto aiutando,” he’ll whisper brokenly. (I'm sorry, amore. I'm not helping.)
You two probably end up curled up on the bed of the infirmary together if you have been waiting a while. A nap won't hurt.
You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.
The angle is a bit awkward.
The sleep helps but he’s still going to be stressed when he wakes up.
Will get you anything you need. A drink or food, perhaps one of the really nice yogurts they do at the visitor's cantine.
Will ask the nurses and doctors SO many questions. He likes to be informed. Gets stressed if anything is unclear.
Maybe he should be in this infirmary bed and not you.
Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged.
You’re both taking a long, hot bath or shower.
He wants to wash you down so he can see you and make sure you’re ok. Lots of tender kisses to your skin.
Ends up with you in his arms under the hot water just swaying together.
You’re wearing his clothes. No, not just because he likes how they look on you but because they’re baggy and won't irritate your skin *cough*. Sure Copia.
He’ll order your favourite food and you can watch a movie in his room together.
Will mother hen you, constantly ask if you need anything, and make sure your water glass is full.
He probably will cry. It’s just been so much.
You can cry together if you want. You both understand.
Also like clockwork when it comes to medication (if you’re taking any.)
Curls up in bed with you. You both sleep like the dead after such a long, stressful day.
Breakfast in bed when you wake up.
*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*
Copia might not be of the Emeritus blood, but unholy shit does the curse of being a chronic worrier catch like wildfire.
He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong.
Will put on a brave face. But underneath he’s still the cardinal he was years back.
He’ll worry and fret and pace. There's no changing some things.
While he’s outwardly less anxious, this poor man has so much weighing on his shoulders after he took over to front the band.
Inwardly it's chaos.
His hair is never quite as smoothed back as it normally is and his paint is a touch worn.
There are some things you can't change about a man. Not really.
Prepare to be coddled, again. The mother hen has never left the coop.
He’s going to pamper you when he gets you back to his room. Of course, you’re staying with him, he’s not letting you go.
So. Many. Kisses.
This man loves kissing you. He adores you so.
A bath in his spacious tub is just what the doctor ordered. You lay against him and relax in the dim with only the light of candles.
Finally lets himself cry.
You shush him, kiss him and remind him that you love him and that you’re ok.
He loves you so much he can't even express it. The thought of losing you kills him.
He tries to push your hands away when you take a cloth to his paint. You’re the one who's been hurt and poked at all day, he’s supposed to be caring for you!
Eventually relents because you both know you need this.
More kisses and mutual washing. You love seeing how his skin pinkens across his cheek, arms and back. It brings out the pretty freckles all over his body.
When you both get into bed, tangled up again, Copia will whisper how much he loves you until he’s too tired to talk anymore.
You both sleep like the dead.
masterlist ⛧ Ao3
#ghost#the band ghost#papa emeritus i#primo#papa emeritus i x reader#primo x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus ii#secondo#secondo x reader#papa emeritus iii#terzo#papa emeritus iii x reader#terzo x reader#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#gender neutral reader
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Napping with the Papas(Headcanons)
Mildly suggestive for Terzo, but otherwise is SFW
Primo
As the eldest of the Emeritus brothers, he is no stranger to the need for a midday nap
In fact, his schedule usually has “nap time” penciled in most days in the afternoon
So when you come to him shyly asking if you could nap together he is quick to reassure you there is nothing to be shy about, he would love nothing more than to have a nice relaxing nap with you
Enveloping you in one of the large sleeves of his chasuble, Primo escorts you to somewhere more quiet and secluded, somewhere comfortable
Sometimes it is in his chambers, a proper nap where you lie together beneath the blankets, limbs tangled and intertwined
Other times it is in his office, curled up on the loveseat there, you resting back against his chest as he hold you in arms, chasuble acting as a blanket over the both of you
There have even been a few occasions in his gardens, both you relaxing on the bench feeding the birds, only to both unexpectedly doze off under the warmth of the sun
Each time is always filled with soft and loving kisses, sweet embraces that more than speak of the love you two share together
Sometimes, Primo will be the one to approach you, two cups of tea in hand with hopes for sharing a quiet nap together, whether it be due to his own need or his sense that you are working yourself to hard and refuse to admit your own need
Secondo
Good luck every getting him to admit it, but Secondo is excited whenever you come asking for him to join you for a nap
A relaxing break in the afternoon would be exactly what he needed, but refused to ever allow himself because that would admit to finally feeling his age
No matter what he is working on, Secondo will pause his work and softly lead you to his bedroom
But a nap with Secondo is never some quick rushed activity, he always gives you the full experience
Starts by having both of you undress and change into more suitable attire before climbing into the bed, and from there he gives you the most thorough massage
Once you are putty in his hands, he moves you both the rest comfortably under the sheets with you pulled to rest your head on his chest
You both fall asleep with you listening to the steady beat of his heart
Never sets an alarm, but somehow Secondo times it almost perfectly, waking you both from your nap after 30 minutes exactly, or an hour depending on how long of a day it’s been
Helps you redress and you walk together back to his office, parting with a soft parting kiss and plans to spend the night similarly after dinner
Terzo
Understandably, Terzo seems to misread the situation when he gets a text from you saying “Come lay in bed with me.”
Doesn’t matter if his working, playing UNO with his brothers, or talking with Omega, he is immediately dashing for your bedroom
The moment he is inside, Terzo is covering you in hungry kisses as he climbs onto the bed
You have to practically shove him off you just for enough pause to explain that isn’t what you had in mind, that you actually were just tired and were missing his company
Seems to deflate a bit, but just for a brief moment!
Because then he is immediately smothering you with kisses again, though this time softer and more loving instead of lust filled
Of course he will nap with you! Anything for his amore!
Shuffles under the covers with you and pulls you tight against his chest, holding you so you practically are lying on top of him
While most times, he won’t be tired enough to fall asleep himself, Terzo is content to lie there and simply run his fingers through your hair
Softly will sing some of his songs until your breathing slows as you succumb to slumber
Copia
Of course! You don’t have to ask Copia twice!
Sometimes it takes a bit more coaxing to get him to leave his work, but the moment you give a squeeze to his tense shoulders he always concedes
More often than not, the nap is entirely for Copia’s benefit
You can see how hard he works himself and know that he often isn’t getting enough sleep
It is you that pulls him back to his chambers, stripping him down from his many layer until just in his pants, shirt, and socks
He will drop into the bed, barely able to pull himself up to the pillows as he watches you pull back the blankets to lay beside him
Will be the one resting his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his soft graying hair as you slowly drift to sleep
You always wake up first, Copia curled up to your side and holding you possessively against him
Unless you know he has important matters that need attending, you will let him sleep as long as he wants as you hold him in your arms and admire him
The sweet soft look on Copia’s face as his eyes flutter open, looking up at you with the most innocent look of admiration makes it all so worth it
#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#primo x reader#secondo x reader#terzo x reader#copia x reader#cardinal copia x reader#headcanons#ghost headcanons#ghost fanfiction
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Papa Headcanons! 💋🫂
Day 13 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃
**RATED PG-13, borderline NSFW**
My headcanons of making out and cuddling with the Papas
Primo
Talks very sweetly; lots of cute but old-fashioned pet names
Lets you rest your head on his chest
Doesn’t use tongue unless you initiate
Big spoon, holds you gently
Serene for the most part, but abruptly interrupted by his coughing fits ):
Always falls asleep before you, usually mid-kiss or mid-cuddle
Secondo
Holds your head very firmly in his hands while kissing you
Slips in tongue
Plants kisses on your neck
Takes control but wants to be on the bottom while cuddling so you’re laying on his chest otherwise he’s big spoon
Holds you protectively, rubs your back soothingly and runs his hands through your hair
Gives massages
Terzo
Sticks his tongue down your throat and goes straight to your pants but complies when you ask just for kisses and cuddles
Presses his body against yours
You can always feel his erection through his pants, purposefully on his part
Kisses like he hasn’t seen you in years
His phone keeps going off
He doesn’t care if he’s big or little spoon
Leaves hickeys and bite marks
Cardinal Copia
Nervous and sweaty
His mustache tickles your face
You can always feel his erection through his pants, accidentally on his part
Usually one of his rats will crawl on you if you stay still too long while cuddling
Wraps all his limbs around you while snuggling as if he’s afraid you’ll fall off the bed or escape
Likes to be little spoon
Popia
Starts with a sweet little peck on your cheek
Usually ends with his hands around your waist and feeling you up, but it’s a slow build up to that
Holds your chin in his hand and kisses your nose
Tells you what his every next move is so you know what to expect
Tells you about his day/asks you about yours
Adjusts his position if he senses you are uncomfy or smushed
Nihil (for shits and giggles)
Sneezes and sharts himself
You run away because it smells
#the band ghost#ghost bc#ghost band smut#papa emeritus x reader#ghost band fanfic#copia is my husband#papa emeritus iv#terzo#copia emeritus#kinktober 2023#papa emeritus smut#papa emertius#terzo x reader#primo x reader#secondo smut#terzo fanfiction#secondo x reader#cardinal copia x reader#copia x reader
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Hello! Humbly requesting a HC of reader sending the Papa’s nudes.
Thank you for the request! I hope you don't mind that these aren't very detailed or as smutty as probably expected
tw: tiny bit spicy, riling the papas up
Primo
Peepaw’s still got it going on.
Will call you immediately and huskily ask you if you’re alone. When you tell him you are, he’ll instruct you step by step to touch yourself.
Turns into phone sex and you learn just how hot it is to hear him dominant and desperate at the same time.
When you’re both spent, he’ll come find you afterwards so he can give you proper aftercare and a very appreciative thank you for the nudes.
In the moment he can be pretty intense but afterwards he’s a teddy bear.
Secondo
Screenshots it and puts it as his Home Screen.
Will send you very detailed dirty talk about what he wants and will do to you the next time you’re both alone.
More affected by the nude then he lets on— will end up getting off to it and then sending you a photo of his own, telling you that you’d better take responsibility.
Terzo
Sends nudes back and fuck are they good. He knows the perfect poses and angles to really show himself off.
You’re the one who ends up flustered instead.
You end up finding him and jumping his bones and the two of you make love while you giggle and laugh because sex is supposed to be fun.
Afterwards he’ll give you tips and tricks on how to take better nudes because he’s a homie.
Copia
Almost has a heart attack and then almost drops his phone and then because he almost drops his phone, almost has a second heart attack.
Is not used to getting nudes and holy fucking shit you’re so hot fuck fuck— he needs like a solid ten minutes to get his brain functioning again.
You’re a little worried when the message reads as ‘✅ read’ but you don’t get a response. You’re about to apologize for sending the picture when he finally messaged you back and it’s just him asking where you are right now.
Hunts you down like a predator after he’s collected himself— he’s practically insatiable. You get a very thorough introduction to how he handles being sent nudes and you don’t regret it one bit.
#the band ghost#copia#terzo#secondo#ghost band#ghost bc#primo#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus 4#papa emeritus i x reader#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus ii x reader#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#cardinal copia#cardinal copia x reader#headcanons#asks
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