#terzo x reader smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

her-satanic-wiles · 7 months

Text

October 5th

Collaring, Papa Emeritus III x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2k

Warnings: Collaring and leashes; established relationship; power play?; dom!Terzo; sub!Reader; piv; vaginal sex; protected sex; clothed man, semi-naked woman; vaginal fingering; masturbation; choking; positive degradation; spanking; cunnilingus; squirting; cumswap (sorry not sorry); nipple play; free use?; body worship;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Terzo was already sat on the bed waiting for you when you entered the room, your frame decorated with black lingerie and harnesses. Terzo, after a long day at the Ministry filled with meetings and stressful actions, was still fully clothed in his suit, albeit missing the jacket. His legs were open as they often were when beginning a scene like this - he liked this posture because it made him feel powerful. In his right hand was a thick, black, leather collar, with a circular ring screwed into the middle of it. He fully intended to put you in that tonight.

“Come here, tesoro.” He requested softly. His voice was deep and smooth as it usually was in the bedroom, and it had you melting. You obeyed him and bent slightly at the knees, allowing him from his seated position to clasp the thick collar around your neck. Following a chaste kiss to your red lips, he then clipped a silver, metal leash to the collar. “On your knees for me.”

You placed yourself in front of him as gracefully as you could, your eyes never breaking the contact with his. You knew better than to make any movements or decisions. Papa was in charge now. Papa would tell you what to do.

“Touch yourself.”

Your hand immediately went down to your clothed clit and began to rub over the black cotton that covered it, teasing yourself for Terzo’s enjoyment. You immediately began bucking your hips in time with your movements chasing as much pleasure as you could from the muted touch. Your noises were soft but genuine, the pleasure was great but not enough to have you screaming. Terzo’s hand grasped onto the other end of the collar tightly, though his eyes were transfixed by your hand, obsessed with the way that it was moving and giving you the pleasure that he asked for.

“Does your hand feel good, tesoro?” Terzo asked, very much affected by your little show.

“Yes, Papa. Fuck! Not as good as yours, though. I l-love the way your fingers feel on me… inside of me.”

“Hmm.”

Your other hand moved from your thigh up to your breast, grasping it and playing with it to put on the extra show for Papa. Your fingers found the erect nipple poking through the delicate lace of the bra and began pinching and playing with it, giving Terzo an extra moan of satisfaction. All the while the pupils of his mismatched eyes were blown out, and staring at you with nothing but lust and adoration. You were pleasing him, you could see by the very prominent bulge under his trousers.

“Papa!” Whimpering his title was a sure fire way of getting him riled up. He wanted to seem powerful today, he wanted to remind himself of his position. Seeing you on your knees at his mercy was a sure fire way of doing that.

As the pleasure became too much you stopped your ministrations on your breast and instead clutched onto the loose chain of the leash, and your hand moved faster and faster over your clit, still trapped under the fabric of your panties. Meanwhile, your hole was clenching around nothing, screaming out for your fingers to fill it. But Papa hadn’t told you to move your panties, or even put your fingers inside you. So your hips continued to buck against the air desperately searching for the friction you craved.

Terzo loosened the leash (though it wasn’t particularly tight to begin with) and wrapped it a little around his hand. That same hand came to caress your cheek, the cold metal of the leash contrasting with the warmth of his touch. His thumb found its way into your mouth, and he watched with carnal interest as you began to suck on it, gliding over its length like you did with his cock. He exhaled deeply and mindlessly spoke, “Just like that.” At this point, his voice was hoarse and gravelly, but that word was so quiet you almost missed it. But you didn’t - and your fingers began to work over your clit even faster as you sucked his thumb.

He pulled his thumb out of your mouth and you gave the tip one final lick before he took his hand away altogether. “Will you cum for Papa, tesoro? Will you show Papa how good you feel being watched by him as you pleasure yourself, hm?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Are you close?”

“Mm-hmm.”

You continued to work yourself into a frenzy, rubbing quickly over your clit and applying more pressure. You looked at Terzo whose eyes were glued to your vulva, obsessively watching you work yourself over. At no point did he touch himself. He just watched. And that was the thought that drove you over the edge, and made you cum for him, stilling as your orgasm washed over you and had moans spilling from your lips.

“Che brava ragazza per tuo Papa. On the bed, tesoro. Ass in the air.”

You crawled across the floor then climbed into position, getting yourself ready for him as he had asked. You arched your back and placed your head onto the bed, allowing the roundness of your ass to really pop, and this earned you an appreciative smack to one of your cheeks.

He hummed admiringly. “My beautiful bitch.”

Another smack. This time, the hit was followed by him groping your offended cheek and pushing them upwards, in turn spreading your labia apart and over the gusset of your panties. “So wet for Papa. What a gift for me, eh? I was blessed by the Dark One, no?” With his hands still pulling your body apart, he dove into your cunt, licking the wet fabric of your panties and playing with your sensitive clit. The gusset was already soaked with the wetness of your previous release, but now it was just drenched. Terzo wasn’t much of a fan of this, and quickly moved your panties to the side, giving him full access to your sodden folds.

His tongue came down on your folds again, but this time there was nothing to dampen the sensation, causing you to cry out in sensitivity. As soon as his tongue was on you, however, it disappeared but soon replaced by two fingers poking at your entrance, sliding in with no resistance and immediately getting to work. Because of your position, his thick fingers curved downwards in order to hit that spot inside you that had you screaming. “Una ragazza di facili costumi, sì? Letting Papa do whatever he wants to you. Are you this much of a slut for my brothers? Or am I the only one who gets the privilege?”

“J-just you, Papa. I spread my legs only for you. Oh fuck, Papa, just like that, please don’t stop!”

“Do my fingers feel that good, tesoro? Good enough to have you wailing like that? Merda! Listen to yourself.” He began to finger you harder in order to make his point, the squelch of your heat getting louder with his roughness. “Acqua empia direct from Sathanas himself.” He bent down to lick and suck at your clit again. “More delicious than any wine.” The way his fingers were moving inside of you and how hard he sucked on your clit, you could feel yourself tipping over the edge. Without moving much, he spoke again. “Cum, tesoro. Bless me.”

After his instruction, you came for a second time biting into the sheets on the bed; your cum squirting from your body and onto his face. You could hear him slurping everything up as though he were drinking from a water fountain, moaning at your taste. He left you briefly to lie in front of you, propping himself up on his elbow. He lifted your head to meet him and kissed you deeply, transferring the cum he collected into your mouth. There was so much of it, it spilled down both of your chins and wiped away what remained of the paint around his mouth. When he pulled away from you, sinfully pink and swollen lips peeked out from behind the dramatic makeup, and had you gasping for air.

“Now it is Papa’s turn, sì?”

He stood and rummaged through his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom. He handed it to you for you to open, and while you removed it from its packaging, he unbuckled and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock from its confines. “Get Papa ready, per favore.”

You placed the rolled condom in your mouth and moved towards his dick, using your lips to unroll it onto him all the way down to the base. He hissed at the feeling. “Puttana.”

He knelt behind you, still fully clothed and ready to go. His hands gripped your hips, gave you one, hard spank, and thrust all the way to the hilt, not waiting for your cunt to adjust to his size. “Take it all.”

He immediately got to work, his hips snapping against yours quickly and hitting that spot right at the back of your pussy making you scream out each time. “Fuck, Papa!” You called. “Use me for your pleasure!”

Terzo always felt so good inside you, he was so thick and long and stretched you out so well. Usually by the time he was done with you, you were an aching, shaky mess on the bed, unable to breathe or even think.

You arched your back for him again, and moved your hips to meet his thrusts, making your ass jiggle more than it usually would. A string of Italian expletives fell from his mouth, each one telling you how much of a whore you were for him and how Hellish your pussy felt.

“A filthy succubus sent from Sathanas to tempt me into sin.”

His hand moved to your side to pick up the leash that lay forgotten on the bed, and he tugged it hard enough to make you rise onto your hands. He tugged once more, a little tighter this time to restrict your airways and make it difficult for you to breathe. He would periodically loosen his grip to let you gasp for air before he tugged it again and choked you.

Your own hand came down to play with your clit one more time.

“Always so tight for me, tesoro.” He watched the cream from your pussy gather at the base of his cock. “Always so wet and pliant.” Release. “I wish you could know how divine you feel. How this cunt gives me new life.” Tug. “I could conquer the world with you hanging off my dick. Fucking shit! Così stretto.” Release. “Perhaps I’ve been worshiping the wrong god all along.” Tug. His thrusting became faster and more erratic. The one hand that remained on your hip held on even tighter than before, like he was too scared to let go or you might disappear and leave him unsatisfied. Release.

“Papa! You - fuck! - You’re gonna make me cum!”

Tug. “Tell me, tesoro! Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“No one could compare, Papa!” Release. “No one could ever make me cum as hard as you. I’m yours! I’m always yours. Fuck, Papa, I’m so close. Please!”

“Cum on my cock, tesoro. Give Papa your pleasure!”

Your cunt tightened around him to an almost suffocating level. It was so difficult for him to move inside you as you hit your third orgasm of the night, choking underneath the collar he put around your neck. More of your sweet nectar spilled out from your cunt and drenched his pants in it, soaking the sheets underneath you. This caused Terzo to thrust one final time inside you before emptying his load into the condom, the very same thing he cursed when he realised he wouldn’t get to see his seed drip out of you the way he wanted to.

When he was spent, he collapsed onto the bed next to you, breathing hard. His lips found yours again and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, tongues rubbing together with need. That was when he finally removed the collar from your neck and replaced it with his hand. The collar was thrown to the floor in disregard and made a loud clunking sound as it made contact with the wood. Terzo didn’t care, he just pulled you into him and held you, his lips still kissing at yours claiming the intimacy you both needed. He was yours, and you were his. And that was how it was to remain.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

355 notes · View notes

whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 11 months

Text

Strawberries (Terzo x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Credit to @conjuring-ghouls for the gif!

WARNINGS: Minors Do Not Interact, MDNI, 18+, Explicit Content, Sexual Content, Minors DNI, food play, pussy eating, overstimulation

Dearest Shoe, @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe thank you so much for requesting this, it was so much fun to write and definitely something outside of my comfort zone. Love you bb ❤️❤️

My Masterlist! ~ A03 Link!

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

You couldn't stop the smirk from passing over your lips as you caught the sight of him. "You know, Primo's going to be awfully upset if he finds out you were messing around in his greenhouse Papa." You watch his shoulder shake slightly as he chuckles. His gaze lands on you, the two of you sharing a small smile.

"Surely he won't mind me stealing a few strawberries. Especially if I'm gathering them to share with one of his beloved Siblings, eh Sorella?" You knew that devious glint in his eye all too well. Terzo Emeritus was not anything if not a flirt. He knew exactly what to say and how to act in order to leave you a flustered and blushing mess, not that you were complaining. He held one of the ripe berries between his fingers, studying it as he slowly made his way over to you. "The first strawberries of the season are always my favorite. Deliciously tart," his eyes leave the fruit and train themselves on you, taking in the image of your curves under your work clothes. "Yet still so sweet." He stood in front of you, his intense gaze gluing you to your spot. "It's probably one of the greatest tastes I've ever experienced… so far anyways." He smirks at you. You pressed your thighs together to try and stifle the growing arousal between your legs. Despite the fact you had been a target of Terzo's charm for years, he never failed to get you all worked up. He held out the strawberry to you, watching intently as your lips wrapped around the tip of it, gently brushing over his fingers as you took a small bite. Your eyes never left his, beautifully mismatched hazy green with the other being so white it almost glowed. Terzo Emeritus was definitely a sight to behold.

"It's delicious Papa." You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. He takes your chin between his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, his lips barely out of reach.

"Can I have a taste, Sorella?" He smirks, your cheeks immediately heating up at his question.

"Terzo!" You startled away from him as Primo's voice booms through the greenhouse. "I've told you before, not in my greenhouse, you'll crush the plants!" Terzo chuckles, taking a step back from you.

"Relax, fratello, I was just giving (Y/N) some fruit." The youngest Emeritus brother shoots you a wink and a flirtatious smirk. Your eyes trailed after him as he made his exit, taking the rest of the plump flesh of the strawberry between his teeth. The thought flashed through your mind of how good it would feel for him to bite into your thighs like that. You quickly shook the idea from your head as Primo approached you.

"Il mia bambina, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind harvesting some fruits and bringing them to Terzo's office? I would like to keep that menace out of my garden at all costs." He says with an exasperated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes Papa, I'll take care of it." You agree with a smile. He pats you on the shoulder as he walks past you.

"Thank you Sorella. If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with one Miss Mary Jane." He pardons himself with a chuckle. You made quick work of picking fruits, the thought of your earlier interaction with Terzo playing repeatedly in your mind, making you incredibly giddy. You grabbed some dark, sweet cherries, ripe peaches, tart plums, and of course more strawberries, carefully arranging them in your basket. You stopped by the kitchen, slipping some chocolate from Secondo's secret stash in with your other treats as you passed through.

"Papa?" You knock tenitavely on his door, pushing it open when you hear him give you permission to enter. He sat at his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he filled out some paperwork. "Primo wanted me to bring you some fruits." You held up the basket before setting it on his desk. He chuckles, examining the gift before him.

"And the chocolate?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Just a little something special for my Papa." You blush slightly, your eyes drifting down to your feet.

"Thank you cara mia, this is wonderful. How can I ever repay you?" His question slightly muttles with the rustling of the candy's foil. You glanced up at him to find his eyes already studying you. The tension in the air was thick. Gone was the usual playfully flirty demeanor that often dominated your and Terzo's conversations. You stood before him now when there wasn't a single chance you would get disturbed. He knew he had you all to himself and he was planning on taking full advantage of that.

"There's no need to repay me Papa." You respond softly. He snaps off a small piece of chocolate, holding it out to you. You carefully take it between your lips, he watches your reaction to the slightly bitter chocolate intently.

"Oh, but I want to, Sorella." He neatly folds up his glasses, tucking them away in his desk before he stands. His slow, heavy footsteps echoing in your ears as he walks around his desk. He sat on the edge of the dark wood, picking up a peach out of the basket, tossing it in the air and catching it in his palm a few times. "You went through all this hard work just to bring me something I wanted… surely there's something you want as well." You eyed the fruit in his hand, wanting to relive the sensation you had experienced earlier. Terzo follows your gaze, holding the peach out for you to bite. Forbidden fruit hanging just out of reach. You hesitantly lean forward, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. You felt some of the juice dripping down your lip. In one swift movement Terzo was standing, his tongue lapping up the droplet of juice before his lips crashed into yours. The peach tumbled from his hand and to the floor with a loud thud. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body flush against his own. He sucked your lip between his teeth, a delighted hum escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut. He lifted you from the floor, effortlessly setting you on the edge of his desk. Your kiss broke momentarily as you both hurried to get undressed. "I can't even begin to tell you how long I've wanted you cara mia." He admits breathlessly. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, giving it a firm tug that elicited a sinful groan from him, his fingers kneading into your hips.

"Then have me Papa… I'm all yours." His lips were back on yours in an instant, needy hands pulling at your shirt until it was removed from your body. Terzo kissed and nipped at the exposed skin of your chest. Terzo's eyes drifted to the fruit basket you had brought, a smirk crossing his features as he breathes out a chuckle.

"I think I know a pretty good use for your gift." You raised a curious eyebrow at him, watching to see what he would do next. He grabbed one of the various plums in the basket, leaning over your exposed chest and biting into it. The dark red juice dripped down his fingers and off his wrist before splattering across your skin. Your fingers slid into his raven locks as he dipped his head, licking the droplets up from the valley of your breasts. His eyes never leaving yours for a moment. You placed a finger under his chin, gently guiding him upwards until you found his lips, the tart juice of the plum mixing with Terzo's naturally sweet taste. He rests his forehead against yours after he pulls away. "The freshest fruit in the garden should be shared with the prettiest flower, sí?" You couldn't help but blush under his gaze, nodding in agreement. He offered you a bite of the plum before discarding it alongside the peach, his head dipping into the crook of your neck. His warm breath fanned over your skin as he trailed kisses down your exposed body. You mewled under his touch, back instinctively arching off the desk as he sucked dark marks onto your thighs. He paused, fingers playing at the band of your panties. "Will you allow me to taste you, Sorella?"

"Please, Papa." You whine, your legs already beginning to tremble despite him not even touching you yet. Terzo lets out a deep chuckle, removing the main clothing keeping him separated from your soaked core at an agonizingly slow pace. Your breath caught in your throat as he licked a long stripe over your clit, the gasp he elicited fizzling out before it even had a chance to leave your lungs. He wasted no time, his tongue dipping inside your entrance allowing him to lap up the juices of your arousal. You pressed a hand firmly to the back of his head, grinding your hips into his face. His nose brushed over your clit as his tongue continued to work inside of you, a series of sinful moans falling from your lips as the growing knot in your stomach.

"So sweet, Cara Mia." Terzo groans before latching his lips around your clit, tongue expertly teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. The arm you were using to support yourself gave out underneath you, causing you to collapse back against the desk. Terzo wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he effortlessly pulled an orgasm from you. Your legs trying to force themselves closed, Terzo resisted you with a chuckle, the vibrations sending a jolt through your already sensitive body. You cried out his name, trying to push his face away, a task that only resulted in streaks of grey across your palms from his paints. "Forgive me for being selfish dolce, but you are the best thing I've ever tasted." He smirks as you squirm in his grasp. "Even better than those strawberries."

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

Tag List: @moss-the-moth @mustluvecho @kissingghouls @angellayercake @copiousloverofcopia @rabidghoul

534 notes · View notes

voidcat · 2 years

Text

— what the cat dragged in

characters: papa emeritus iii/you, cardinal copia, nameless ghouls, sister imperator

wc & genre/notes: 8.1k – strangers to friends/lovers, fluff, suggestive content (minor discussion of kinks and terzo being terzo during mummy dust. That part starts with “I’d say you’re deflecting,” and ends with the divider.) neighbors au, reader has a cat… I’ll b honest idk what else to say

a/n: this is My blog and I get to choose how cringe I want to be. Yes I said I’d not write for ghost and did it anyways after one (1) bad day. Yes this file is titled “hatehatehatemyself” on Google drive. The part after the burgundy divider is an optional ending. You can read the entire thing as platonic or slowly growing into something romantic. have fun x

Head turned left and right, looking around, no sign around.

The neighborhood is rather quiet today, the sun up and everyone out, at work or else. Rustling of grass with each breeze reaches your ears, and each time you whip your head toward the direction with hope.

In a breath, you cross the road and walk and walk and walk. It’s a long one, not unbearably so but still a little unnerving. You don’t recall many people going this way after all.

Now standing before the grand door, the little mailbox a few meters away awfully standing out, you raise your fist and knock.

And wait.

And waiting you do for almost a minute, if it weren’t for the noises you hear, a clutter of something, a shatter there and finally footsteps.

The door swings open– though it looks too heavy to be opened just like that and the man stands tall before you, forearm resting against the frame, leaning his entire weight to it, eyes barely open and you don’t need to see the barely filled bottle he holds to tell he is drunk.

The scent of alcohol reeks off him just enough.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell.

Squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light coming from the sun, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away.

You doubt he has noticed you.

Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this already? He looks trashed, to say the least.

Then he seems to notice you, though he makes so little movement to fix his posture, the belt tied around his waist barely doing its job to hold the robe together.

Decent on the eyes, you’d have thought for the guy, if it wasn’t for the weird face paint.

Getting too far and a little too early on the halloween spirit?

“Ah…” you clear your throat and try again. “So you see, my cat was lost and–”

“Oh perfect! That’s just lovely now.” he cuts you off, quite loud too. Head thrown back, he holds a sneer. “And what, little one ? Decided to come here and accuse us?” bottle dropped on the floor, rolls off to the side, hitting to an end by the door frame.

With both hands free, he throws them up in mockery, mimicking what you can only think to be a kid’s voice: “‘ Oh no the big bad mean satanists stole my cat and used it for their sick rituals. ’” hands dropped to his sides immediately as he is done with his imitation, he glares down at you: “Well guess what? Buzz off! As if I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with right now. Go find a more creative way to get in sherlock.”

So they were satanists after all…

Good to know you suppose, not that you care in all honesty. The whole church-like air of the building only gets more confusing for you though.

Before he can close the door to your face, you place your palm against it to stop him. “Hey!”

The force behind the door comes to a pause, probably didn’t expect you to fight back.

“Listen, Mr. Halloween or whatever poor Jack Skellington look you were going for.” you begin speaking, ignoring the way his face morphs into pure confusion. “How about you listen to people before barking assumptions at them?”

A moment of breath, the resistance behind the door ends completely and he opens it full again, waiting for you to continue but doesn’t seem all too happy.

“My cat likes to go outdoors and one of my neighbors said to me once that he often visits this place. So can I please come in?”

Seeing it written clear that you won’t be leaving any time soon, the guy sighs and steps aside. “Don’t touch anything and don’t leave my sight.”

Footsteps echoing in the hallways, you ‘pspsps’ here and there in hopes of your cat turning around but to no avail.

It’s only when passing a door that the guy pauses and curses to himself, you can hear the hints of an accent.

Turning to face him, he takes in your raised brow as a question.

“Copia has rats– pet rats. Your cat better be a vegan because I will not deal with his whole…” he gestures with his hand at nothing, “mourning or Sister Imperator’s reprimanding if a single one of them is missing.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a well behaving, domesticated cat with manners, thank you very much.” you say and turn your head with a huff.

Copia? Imperator? You have no idea who these guys are but you’re sure you can handle a couple of …dorky satanists, if the rest of them are just like this man baby at least.

You can always leave town before night too, if it comes down to it.

Only few steps away and the man watches as you disappear, yelling after you about ‘what did he say’ and all that bullshit but you couldn’t care any less because there he is, your precious baby!

All pulled up into a cozy little furry ball by the corner under a window, in what appears to be someone’s bedroom.

Pretty messy too.

The man seems to catch sight of you and say something he thinks is amusing, or sleek, from the tone he uses, though you pay no attention to his words or how they suddenly run dry. (‘ well if your eye on me the whole time, you didn’t need to make up an excuse about a lost c –’)

Picking up your cat despite his protests, you turn and thank him with a nod. His words register in your mind with a small delay.

“Maybe consider tidying up your room, what are you, twelve?” and with that, you exit his warzone of a room and walk back the path you took, with Mr. Whiskers purring in your arms the entire walk home.

The second time your cat goes missing while you’re home, you know better.

Instead of wasting hours searching around, you hike up all the way to that dreaded place and knock on the door with force and impatience.

It is a woman who answers instead.

A woman who does not seem to be the slightest bit impressed.

Staring at her bored face, you take notice of her clothes you can deem as formal for the place, the sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms, you snap out of it, trying to formulate the words regarding your cat and and all.

Whatever thought seems to pass her mind, you conclude that she doesnt care and watch as she leaves the door open, walking back inside. So you hurriedly follow.

“Sleek, black hair you said?” she asks, still walking ahead as you nod– shit, satanist or not, she can’t have an eye at the back of her head now; letting out a hum of affirmation you fasten your steps and try to walk by her side.

Steps come to a halt before a closed door, she knocks firmly, once.

Upon receiving no answer whatsoever, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

They must have quite the savings you think, to have a place with soundproof walls and doors. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and all, you wonder to yourself, couldn’t your cat have picked somewhere …normal to take his afternoon naps.

Paying the scene before her eyes no mind, the woman steps in– is that who the man referred to as Sister Imperator?, and you catch her words about grabbing the darn cat now and continuing his pity party later.

The sounds of sex stop and you can hear someone walking around all the while mumbling something.

Before you can thank the woman however, she turns and walks away.

Less than a minute later the same man from before peeks out his head through the door.

Wearing a different robe this time and doing a poor job of holding your cat, though Mr. Whiskers doesn’t seem to mind, the traitor, he watches as you take the cat from his arms.

As you turn to leave and call it a day, maybe open a bottle of wine and see where the night takes you, a ‘hey!’ catches up to you from behind.

Leaning against the door frame like he did the first time, he waits for you to face him.

“Just let me know next time your cat comes over. I doubt neither you nor Sister would like to become frequent acquaintances.”

You eye him with a suspicious look. Sure the woman does seem like if she sees you 3 times a week or more for your cat, she might sacrifice you and Mr. Whiskers to Lucifer with her bare hands but hey, you cannot control who answers the door now.

As if sensing your train of thought, or, a part of it, he lets out a sigh, “My windows are pretty wide. Pretend they’re doors or something.”

“...right.” Sounds more and more reassuring with each word for sure, great , thank you Mr. Whiskers.

Then an after thought seems to follow as a whine can be heard from inside his room, “ Just – maybe let me know ahead before you come through the window, yeah ?”

“And I should do that, how?” you ask, wishing the whole encounter to be over “I don’t want you charging me if a stone happens to find its way in.”

From how he mumbles the words ‘charging’ and ‘stone’ confused, it seems to be taking him a while to register your words.

The implication of your words seem to dawn in as his face goes down “Last I checked, cellphones exist.” he states, not sounding too happy about the possible danger his precious windows may face.

“And how should I know this isn’t some weird excuse to get my number?” you sound skeptical, on the edge, probably finger hovering over that dial button to the police if it wasn’t for the cat in your arms.

At your words though, he chuckles. “I do have a girl in my bed right now, you know?”

“And my question remains unchanged.” staring at him with a dead serious expression, you watch as his amused face falls, his eyes rolling and he shoves a hand down one of his pockets, taking out a pen.

Expectant eyes on you– wait, what is up with his eyes? , he pushes off the cap, shaking his left arm so the robe’s arm can slide off, revealing his skin, waiting. Waiting for you.

“You better not send me any weird crap or call-” you state then say out your phone number.

Well, worst comes to worst, you know a good lawyer.

Third time's the charm is how the saying goes. You have your doubts but perhaps there is truth to it as the man’s ridiculous window idea works.

It takes no time to figure out Mr. Whiskers spends his afternoons there because the rays of sunlight hit just right, and right next to where he sleeps is a comfortable armchair with black and white hair decorating its surface a little.

Few steps ahead of his windows, the view of a wonderful garden has attracted your attention but you know better than to ask, or enter without permission. The amount of times you’ve dropped by increases at record speed, yet the air between you both is still tight.

He lets out a warm laugh when he gets a good look at him once, but when you ask, you get no reply. Surely this cannot be the first tuxedo cat he has ever seen in his life.

One silence after another, he must've sensed how tense and awkward it feels too, as a little after he tries to make conversation and apologize.

So they are a satanic organization, that’s fine.

You’ve always wondered as a kid about the gatherings you’d see within a distance but never bothered to check for yourself.

A rock band to spread their word and message however, now that is odd. You’re starting to think their anti church might be the most normal thing to them.

Yet you remain your silence and let him speak, listen, and try to make as much sense of them as you can because god knows you won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

He says he is– was the frontman of the band, and their beloved antipope , but was dethroned , or so he claims, few days prior to your arrival.

You can understand frustration over something you have dedicated your time and effort into, and for you to be pulled off it without a logical explanation. That explains drinking until the brain shuts down despite that scent of alcohol still stings your senses.

Nodding to his words, you take his apology and leave with Mr. Whiskers that day. He asks if you’d like to see the garden the next time your legs are dangling off the windowsill.

You accept in a heartbeat.

With the weather warming up and all, your cat seems to enjoy the garden as much as you do.

Trees and flowers of all kinds tended to with care and love, you can tell. Each arranged with care, the entire place paints a beautiful picture before your eyes, and endless too.

Same as the window, this becomes a habit too. To stroll in the garden and sit on one of the stone benches, talking or staying like this in silence.

He seems fond of Mr Whiskers for reasons unknown to you, until he pulls out a photograph of someone in what you make out to be a tuxedo of sorts, on a stage no less.

The photograph is of small scale, you cannot make out much of the details, so he takes it upon himself to explain that it is indeed him in the photo and the looks of your cat caught him by surprise because of his looks.

Without waiting for a reaction, he offers to show you the outfit he wore back then, though he sounds a little melancholic about the whole thing still.

Sure , you agree, but keep it to yourself that the regency shirt and black pants look just fine on him.

It blurs at one point you begin visiting even without Mr. Whisker’s presence in his room.

Bursting out into laughter, he looks almost offended at your reaction. “I’m sorry-” your giggles break through as you wipe off a tear, “what did you say it was again?”

“Emeritus.” he says flatly.

“Emeritus.” you repeat, this time doing a better job at containing the giggling.

“Yes, Emeritus,” he says again and adds, “The third.”

If your laughter before was loud, this is something beyond, enough to make him go deaf in comparison.

“Okay no, I’m not calling you-” you bring your hands up to finger quote, “Emeritus The Third.” you say in a serious tone. “And I’m certainly not calling you ‘papa’ or some bullshit title.” you cut in before he can get a word out.

“We’re going to need a nickname, what about ‘em’?”

“Em.” his tone asking ‘are you for real?’, his turn to repeat now.

“Okay no, that’s just as bad, give me some time to th-” hand covering his face, he just shakes his head with a sigh.

“Just call me Terzo , caro mio.”

Seeing as to no reply from you comes, he removes his hand and looks up. “It means ‘ the third ’ in Italian.”

“Oh,” you manage to say, though you do sound a little different now, perhaps you thought from his reactions you hurt him and now feel sorry about that?

“Yeah, I can do that, Terzo.” speaking with more confidence now, testing the name on your tongue, you talk more to yourself and nod your head than to him– he finds watching you act like this, how you operate and think as you talk endearing.

You find yourself liking spending time with Terzo more than you’ve realized.

Work is work, adulting is the same and sometimes relationships with friends feel dull or far away.

To say the least, he is interesting. Usually something to catch you off guard or wondering, it is guaranteed your time with him is never one to fall victim to boredom.

So he speaks of his life, of things he has done on the road and whatnot, even going as far to recreate when he tried to kick off a beach ball only to fall, basking in the waves of your laughter, even complaining to him by nighttime that your face hurts from laughing so much.

In return you feel you don’t have as exciting stories but he listens as if they’re the most wonderful things he has ever heard.

You deem them mundane and every time without a beat, he says only to you.

It comes down to, more like remembering, those scenes from when you were a kid.

He is awfully quiet that day, when you speak of seeing figures in black walking in tow, a kid or two that seemed to be your peers but how their estate in the eyes of some were off limits, and it was always at an odd time for you to be walking up there and talk with the kids.

A shame, the two of you could’ve met much earlier, yet he doesn’t voice it and you do not realize it.

Of all the things he has experienced recently, entering his room, to a bed unmade, finding you wrapped in the covers and sound asleep, would score high on Terzo’s list of things he wouldn’t expect– that is, if his brain could even muster up such a scene.

He doesn't need to, though, as it becomes real before his eyes and he makes way for the loveseat that night.

He doesn’t pry about it and all you say under your breath is that you felt lonely.

‘What about Wh-’ before he can ask, you open the covers partly to reveal that Mr. Whiskers is indeed with you, in his bed.

He just hopes the cat won’t switch his usual spot for his bed when he comes next time.

The nightly visits from you start to occur more, by the third time he knows it’ll become another constant, though not as frequent.

You do appear upset that he has to sleep on the couch, yet he waves his hand dismissively, that he doesn’t mind– he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or cross any unnamed boundaries. Which is a little outside the usual for him, he is known for being bold, for holding and kissing hands and doing much more when he can even smell from a kilometer away the slightest of interest the other party has in him.

The next time it repeats, he is startled by a sudden noise as he makes for the couch as always. Turning on his heel only to see you patting the spot next to you in his bed.

Sure, it is a spacious bed, more than enough space for the both of you, and Mr. Whiskers, yet he still feels tense about the whole situation.

What if he wraps an arm around you or something in his sleep and you wake up angry, that he jumped into conclusions, that this wasn’t what you wanted at all and that you’ll never visit again and file a restra–

“You think too much.”

You draw him out of his pocket sized crisis with few words and a flock on his forehead. “Keep doing that and you’ll end up with wrinkles in no time.”

What else can he do but chuckle at that and sink into sleep, safe and sound?

Wine is a skillful loosener, as the two of you rediscover together.

On days you stick around for longer, he makes his offer– though you refuse it as much as you can.

Despite dropping by unannounced after a while, you haven't walked into any intimate moments. And against your initial claim, your phone does get bombarded, usually photos of Mr. Whiskers when Terzo catches a glimpse of him, or when he thinks he is being adorable.

The latter is worse, because Terzo always finds him adorable once he warms up to the cat. The way he acts through text makes you picture him lying on the floor, hands supporting his chin, legs behind him dangling in the air, watching the unknowing cat as he sleeps or does the most mundane cat thing anyone can think of.

Neither of you are aware just how fascinating mundane is to him.

You can sense his pout from meters away.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” you put down the stacked papers. “What is it?”

Crossing his arms, he turns away partially, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know what youre talking about.”

Getting closer to Terzo means many things, witnessing the absolute manchild that resides in him included.

Picking up your phone to turn the volume down, your eyes find his figure again– either he resembles Mr. Whiskers more than you gave them credit for or your time spent with him making you delusional. “Out with it already,” his form shrinks only further, “or no more visits from me or Mr. Whiskers.”

Now that , gets his attention.

Eyes focused somewhere near your face intentionally, he almost appears reluctant to say the words.

“How come you never listen to any of my songs?”

It takes you few seconds longer to register his words.

Before you can answer, he begins rambling, so rushed and in a whisper, all you can hear is few words in italian, which you’re sure are curses slipping his tongue and terms of endearment.

“I just… forgot?” you offer with a shrug.

Okay, maybe not the best response as this gets him to throw his arms into air, “ mio satana , you are unbelievable.” a finger pokes into your side, you haven't even realized he already crossed the distance between you both.

So he gets jealous when you listen to other musicians, huh , you save the information for future use.

As you begin laughing, he chuckles, muttering under his breath. “I guess, I’ll have to bring a ritual to your feet.”

It goes unknown to you that Terzo semi-regularly orders cat food for Mr. Whiskers, not that the cat ever seemed to be hungry when he was there, but hey, cannot hurt to try. If the cat only decides to visit him, with you in cue, more often, now there is no harm in that.

Another thing unbeknownst to you, is that, despite the distance between their estate and your house, Terzo can spot your lights without much effort.

If he were to dramatize the entire thing between you both and more, he’d refer to it as a beacon of light. But he doesn’t need to, because there is nothing more to what it is between the two of you, even if unnamed, even when he cannot help wondering “ what if …”, wondering if he is misinterpreting things.

So when he doesn’t see the lights turn on by the night time one evening, he doesn’t care, maybe the power went out, maybe you just want to try something different for a change. He certainly doesn’t care in the morning when he sees a second figure come out of the door, or when you drop by later that evening, a throbbing headache and ‘ long day at work’ you just murmur as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You accept the wine when you're taking another stroll in the gardens.

With the weather beginning to cool down, you welcome its warmth to your very bones.

Booze loosens your tongue first, and soon your senses, your train of thought. Whether it’s a good thing or not that you’re not the only victim… you don't know.

“Was it worth it at least?” he muses as you’re seated on the same bench, glasses sat on the ground.

You twist your face, trying to recall, “Once I tuned his voice out, yeah I guess?” he snorts at your words, “Isn’t this the usual case?”

“Nah,” you drag the word as you reach for your glass, “He could also suck in bed. So the entire night wasn’t a waste I suppose. Never going back to that place though, I’m picky for a reason.”

You say the words more to yourself as a mantra than anything, Terzo watching you with a giggle hanging on his lips.

“Bad drinks as well?”

“It’d be charity to call them as such, ugh,” with a sigh, you drink down the remaining half of your wine, tipping the empty glass to his direction.

Taking your glass, he switches it with his and you take no time to bring it back to your lips.

“But this?” you raise the glass, “now that is a quality product.”

With another chuckle, he reaches for the bottle and fills the empty glass in his hand.

The topic of your recent and unfortunate endeavors morph into complaining about work, people in the streets, weird posts on the internet and whatnot.

“Okay, okay,�� you try to speak inbetween laughter, “so what about weird preferences when it comes to sex?”

He just gives you a teasing smirk as you place your finger on his lips as a means to shush him “we already know weird shit and food combinations the other likes, consider this a slight change of topic.”

“I’d say you’re deflecting, but alright, I’ll buy.” he shrugs, throwing his head back to drink from the bottle– the glasses cast aside an hour or so ago.

“Any kink you can think of, I’m most likely into already, so just ask me yourself.”

You bring a finger to your chin, contemplating what to say for a moment, “Socks stay on or?..” you let your voice trail off, gazing at him from the side with a smile.

Bringing a hand over his heart and another against his forehead, he faces you fully and lets out a loud gasp. “Caro mio! You wound me. I might be the antipope but I am not a lunatic!”

He opens one eye to seize your reaction, and when your gazes meet, both of you burst into laughter.

“But the face paint stays on, no?” you gesture to your face once you stop clutching your stomach.

“Everyone has a preference, tesero.” he shrugs.

Considering his position and the closest people he can find to fuck, it does add up, you suppose.

“Now enough about me, what about you ?” He leans in to you, flashing his teeth. Not letting him get to him, you snatch the bottle from his hand.

“What about me, indeed huh? Just your basic, vanilla bullshit.” you close your eyes as you gulp down the wine.

Your comment only ignites him further, with another chuckle, he scoots closer, “You? Vanilla? I’d beg to differ,” and again, with the poking to your sides, he pleads “Don’t keep your papa waiting now.” “Okay first of all–”

You snap your head to him, only to be nose to nose, “ Not the ‘p’ word, we went over that ages ago, not calling you that.”

“Only because you’re being such a tease,” he sing-songs, his head thrown back.

“You are such a child,” you mumble as you place the bottle between your legs, hands gripping its neck.

“Biting, I suppose.” You can hear him open an eye and look your way, “Nothing extreme as I said, but people aren’t exactly dying to be covered in red and purple, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he answers, “their loss.”

You can sense he wants to pry further but keeps himself, and hell , the wine is good, there is another bottle waiting by his foot, and compared to the amount of black mail-level footage of him you've got, this feels like nothing.

“Taking risks.” you say in a whisper, partially hoping he doesn’t hear.

“Now, this falls vague, bella.” he says. “Risks of conceiving, catching STDS–” he begins counting with a finger,

“ No ! I said risks , not being an idiot.” You cut in, a hand covering your face.

You know he is waiting with that smug smirk, “risks of getting caught, like, dunno , semi public spaces and the likes?” you ask more than speak, meeting his gaze as you finish speaking.

“So that’s where the biting comes,” he speaks in a knowing tone, “leaving telltale marks blooming everywhere?” he muses as his hand begins to move, finger grazing against your skin.

“Like this?” he asks, hand going up and drawing patterns on your thigh, slowly going up, his eyes gauging your expression.

“...yeah” you say in a breath, letting his hand reach the inner side of your thigh. A finger flicks against the bottle, drawing out a trembling note, making your eyes flash though all your times here, you never saw anyone else in the gardens.

The bottle has long gone warm but his hand feels cold against your leg, you’re aware of his eyes locked on your face yet make no haste to draw yours away from the plants up ahead.

His hand begins to travel upwards, making way to fiddle with the hem, going under and his skin meeting yours.

Before he can do anything further however, you both jolt with the sudden noise coming from behind, between the windows.

“Cazzo!” he mutters and gets up, making way to enter his room through the windows.

While waiting for him, you go for the other bottle, pouring yourself some more wine, at least with a glass, you can keep count.

Pausing to listen around, you hear the commotion has died down.

Picking up the other glass and hoisting the empty bottle under your arm, you make way for the stained glass windows you’ve grown familiar with over the course of time.

Terzo doesn't seem to pay much mind to the interruption though, the conversation picks up from where it left, now talking in a more general sense.

“You give off vibes of someone who’d make a sex playlist,” you begin as he listens with a nod, “ and add your songs to it.”

“As I said gioia, everyone has their preferences.” he reaches to take the bottle from you, not expecting your arm to draw back, “yet I cannot help but be upset,” he sheds a nonexistent tear, “that you think my thrust game is so weak.”

Seeing as you freeze at his words, he takes a step to you, grabbing the bottle from your hand with a smile and places it down, not stepping back afterwards. “If you want a demonstration though, I am always happy to help.”

As if your silence was anything to go by, now it is deafening, the warmth and flush of your skin; you’re unsure if the cause is alcohol or him .

“And I did promise a demonstration of my songs to you before, didn’t I?” he says as he takes another step your way.

“So you see, we got this fan favorite song, Mummy Dust,” he speaks while pretending to be interested in the ceiling, gesturing with a hand in the air, “but not because of the lyrics.” he remarks with a smug expression, redirecting his gaze to you as he takes another step, barely any space left separating the two of you.

You’re unsure what to say or do, when left alone in a room with a bunch of people wearing identical masks.

You think, Terzo must’ve pulled a rope here and there, or acted in secrecy considering his sudden drop of position in the band, to have gotten into this studio– and bringing you no less.

The people he referred to as Nameless Ghouls stare at you, and you back at them. You can imagine the confusion they must be going through.

Then the man of the hour reappears with a clap of hands, dressed up in an outfit resembling a suit, and his previous remark at Mr. Whiskers suddenly comes back to you, finally making sense.

A concert– or a ritual, as he put it, he promised and one he delivers.

A ghoul begins playing his guitar in sync with the drums, as two of them walk to stand at their both sides and with a sudden stomp of foot, they all play in, in a fashion you can describe as ‘ knocking the wind out of your lungs .’

Only when Terzo’s singing, and soon the instruments coming to a stop that you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time. And quickly find out you may as well die due to lack of oxygen by the time the day comes to an end if they only keep up this momentum.

One song after another, they captivate you gradually. Be it the way the ghouls play or the way Terzo moves as he sings, radiating with energy. Walking around and messing up with one another, bothering each other at times– it all creates the illusion of a found family.

Briefly moving his hand, the ghouls pick acoustic guitars once another song comes to an end.

After each song he tells its name and some information– or funny memories he finds important you know.

With a signal of his hand, the ghouls switch to acoustic guitars and Terzo begins humming: “a one, a two, three, and four.“

With a move of his hand, they all enter the song.

One hand in a fist, resting against his hip and the other in front of him, he sways his hips softly as he sings.

It doesn’t miss your attention how some of his moves arent as innocent or random as they seem– when he brings his other hand to join the stray one, hoisting them up in the air as if holding something, or how after he holds the microphone with one hand and violates the poor stand with his fingers. Hands thrown into the air and shaking in the air as a ta-da once in a while, he takes a step back to point at one of the ghouls’ playing.

The song comes to an end and you think you’ve done good so far– then he decides to announce that the song is called Jigolo Har Meggido and you burst into laughter, leaving the men in the room utterly confused.

It takes several minutes for you to gather yourself, wipe away the tears all the while ignoring Terzo hovering over you with concern, unsure whether to approach you or leave you be in your violent laughter.

“I’m sorry-” your words die in your throat as another wave of laughter takes over again, “it’s just-” hand clutching over your stomach, you do your best to look up, “you do re-”, meeting his face only makes you laugh again.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you a little. Taking the water bottle one of the ghouls have brought to you, in your frenzy you didn’t even realize him leaving, you take a few sips to calm your nerves.

“I know you’re flirty and all, but witnessing you calling yourself a manwhore caught me off guard.”

Definitely not something worth laughing to that extent over, Terzo doesn’t say a word and instead flashes you a toothy grin.

“You’d be surprised to hear it was his brother who wrote this song.” you hear someone say, the same ghoul from before.

“Ah!” Terzo waves a hand dismissively in the air, “enough talk of that geezer. Now , what do you say to a grammy winning original?”

The ghouls slowly begin as Terzo walks back, their eyes on him and his hands, watching every move and tilt, following his guidance. Compared to the other songs they’ve played so far, this one comes off much softer, gentler, making you wonder what will come next.

Raising both hands in the air as if in praise, the ghouls all stop and silence takes over, waiting, and with his signal, they enter the song, picking up stronger than where they left off.

The melody matches the lyrics somewhat, the impression of a thunder, it builds up and carries smoothly.

He begins singing what you assume to be the second verse, drawing closer to you at a steady pace. His voice becomes the only thing you hear as the instruments falter and die out, quietening one by one. The microphone now held in his left, his right hand reaches out to hold yours, bringing it up near his face as he keeps singing: “ Can't you see that you're lost without me?”

And with it, they all reenter the song with a bang, your hand still in his, Terzo kisses the back of it in between lyrics and steps back to his initial position.

Drumming his fingers in the air, swaying them at the direction of either of the ghouls, they all circle around the keyboard playing ghoul as the song shifts into an instrumental part.

Eyes never leaving theirs, especially not his, not when he makes sure to lock his with you, you watch the entire performance almost in a trance, mind going blank.

When the song ends, you can see his expectant looks on you, already beaming with whatever compliment he’s positive you’ll be giving him.

So you decide to pick the teasing route.

“It was nice.” he stares at you, his face clearly showing he wasn’t waiting to hear that. “Nice?..”

Humming in affirmation, you nod your head. “Yeah, nice.” tilting your head to the side, you speak up, “ Say , this helps you get some?”

The man stands there, blinking at you for what feels like eternity.

The ghouls in a similar stance, though you’re sure you’ve heard one of them snort, and another snicker.

The eternity ends with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face. “Yes, sorella , it helps me …get plenty actually.” he uses your phrase.

“Well,” he clicks his tongue as he places the microphone back to its place, “if it’s a …meretricious song you desire, how about I give you,” his pace of speaking slows down, as if holding his breath, waiting for imaginary drum rolls: “Mummy Dust!” He drags the words in a low grumble, shaking his hands in the air once again.

From how he starts swaying and moving his hips, you immediately recognize the song.

As Terzo begins singing, the sound of a door opening and clicking close reach your ears and when you twist halfway in your seat, you see a man with pencil stache dressed up in black, his hat partially resembling a bat, same painted eyes and upper lip like Terzo yet lacking the rest of the face paint.

The man stills in place when he sees you, only gets his feet to move again when you pat the vacant spot near you.

Whispering greetings back and forth, you immediately remember his name.

“Ah you’re the Cardinal!” Your voice comes out a tad more excited than expected. The man on the other hand seems confused as to how you know him already.

“How are your rats? Happy, I hope. I am so sorry, I never got the chance to apologize to you or to them because of Mr. Whiskers.” The words leave your lips in a breath, leaving the man dumbfounded, repeating your cat’s name in confusion and unaware,

“ah, I-, my most sincere apologies, who?..”

“Mr. Whiskers, my cat, didn't Terzo t- oh.” Unfortunately the mention of a cat before you can stop makes his eyes go wide, and you try your best to assure him that your cat didnt even set foot into his room, somewhat calming the anxious man down.

The music on the other hand, as well as the singing, gets louder and a tad more aggressive.

Probably unhappy with how your attention was led somewhere other than him. So needy and grumpy, spoiled like a cat.

“Uh, we can save our discussing for after the song?” Cardinal suggests, to which you nod. “I'd hate to impose on this- uh, special performance his excellency was displaying for you.” He says, coughing on his words at the way Terzo moves.

“Its alright Cardinal. I was given a demonstration of this song already, I am not missing out on anything.”

Again, you must’ve said something wrong, because instead of relaxing, the Cardinal’s face tenses up and goes bright red.

“ Oh !” You wince, “poor choice of words on my behalf. That's not what I meant.” You try to offer an explanation with a sheepish smile, but to no avail.

At least Terzo looks quite pleased with the interaction, as clear from the smug expression taking over his face.

The previous incident– goes unaddressed between the two of you but the air between doesnt waver.

Still, it must have triggered some sort of change, you conclude, as Terzo’s texting habits only evolve into a different stage.

Sure, it went for quite a while that the initial purpose of exchanging numbers was abandoned yet he still possessed control, a sense of self restraint, when texting you.

Definitely the absolute opposite of whatever it is going on as of now.

Maybe you’ve spoiled him too much, your brain reaches another conclusion as the lips on your skin snap that thought in the middle, pulling you back into reality.

You still don’t visit him as regular as to say daily, or even biweekly– so you hold onto the benefit of doubt that he has absolutely no way of knowing youre busy trying to have a nice night, focused on pleasure and the feeling of euphoria–

Another vibrating sound against your nightstand cuts into the air, your sceeen lightning up right after.

You ignore it only so far until you find yourself scrolling and typing up a reply, the light coming from the screen reflecting against you and the man you’ve forgotten about already.

As you smile at his newest text, hearing that stupid whining of his voice and the pout, someone next to you clears his throat, snapping you back.

“Anything I should know about?” He only asks and in all honesty , you cannot blame the guy. You’d have reaches into equally ugly assumptions, were this to happen to you.

But it didnt, and it isn’t right now, so its only a little too late that you put yourself in his shoes.

“Nope.” You say, walking up to your bookshelf and placing the phone screen down, “just a friend.”

The guy hums, sounding skeptical but doesn't pry.

You give him the benefit of the doubt but few too many repeats and you know it's intentional.

You did spoil him too much it seems.

Another afternoon by his side, you're sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked under yourself, he is busy on the other side of the room, who knows what he is preparing this time.

“Wine?” he turns on his heel, holding a glass and the bottle’s neck tilted slightly already.

“None for me, thank you.”

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, a scheming expression takes over. “Ooh? Any plans for tonight?” He inquires. You don’t need to know that he is dreading the confirmation that'll leave your lips.

“I guess,” you shrug, turning to look outside the window, “promised Steve we’d spend the night together.”

Heavy silence spreads from your words and takes over the room.

The teasing remarks signature to his natural charm never comes and you turn your head to see if he even heard you in the first place… or left the room before you spoke… or somehow passed out in silence as you spoke.

Your worries ease upon seeing him standing there, still, not even a muscle moved from his last position, unreadable eyes staring at you.

Only when you tilt your head towards, asking ‘what’s wrong?’ and only then he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, coughs and tried to laugh it off with a ‘ have fun’ , pouring himself a glass.

Unbelievable.

Discreetly taking a sip from his wine to distract himself doesn't do much to ease him and the now unimpressed look you're giving him makes even the wine taste bitter on his tongue.

“Wh-“ “you are unbelievable.”

Okay, you don't just seem pissed, disappointed?, something definitely negative; you sound like it too.

“For wishing my friend a fun night?” And with a guy he has never heard you mention before– the word friend stings to say. “I’m sure Steve is a good gu-“ “ Again,” you dont let him finish, “you are unbelievable, absolutely childish and overall a great idiot.”

Okay now you're just being mean. A scowl makes its way to his face before he can even notice, making you shake your head in disbelief like a mother scolding her kids with a smile.

“If youre done with the insults cara,” he says and raises his glass, appearing pissed and upset as he downs the glass.

“Terzo, you met Steve.” His head snaps up at your words. “Steve?“ you repeat in question, “Steve Whiskers?” ‘ ring any bells? ’ He can hear you say in following–

The faint smile of yours slowly evolve in a giggle as you watch the gears turn in his head and finally connect the two and two together.

“The cat?!” His voice comes out louder than he meant to, suddenly straightening up and wiping invisible dust off his clothes, he clears his throat.

“Excuse me for my sudden input of volume.” You reply with a smile, “Send my best regards to Mr. Whiskers.”

You see the ghouls around few more times you're in the perimeter, as well as the scary woman from before.

Sitting in the gardens with Terzo again one warm afternoon and she passes in the distance, her eye catching sight of you no doubt.

Jumping in your stead, you rush to where she is. Terzo watches as you speak with more animatic gestures, Sister remaining stoic as always. You bring a hand up to scratch your head in unease, then holding out a box of sorts. As you are about to turn, he sees your body beam , most likely at something Sister has said as she walks away.

You pattle back to where he waits, trying to contain a big smile and pulling out few cookies from behind in surprise. Just as he does with anything else you offer, he devours the cookies, making sure to express his gratitude and worship before and after.

You settle back next to him, laughing at the way he acts as he ignores the crumbs on his thighs, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing.

Yet you never tell him what it was Sister Imperator has said to you that got you in high spirits; not then, not later.

When you wake up with the sunlight grazing your face from the wrong direction, your first instinct is to return to sleep.

Having falling asleep by Terzo's side a reasonable amount of times now, it feels just as comfortable as your room. Despite his chest not being as soft as your pillow, the comfort of his mattress easily beating yours makes up for the loss.

Just as a content smile makes its way to your lips and you, more than eager to return to sleep, the situation of now sinks in and you can feel the warmth drain from your entire body.

Sure, this is not the first time you've found yourself falling asleep here, even in his arms, limbs tangled up no less; but all those instances contain one huge difference from the predicament you find yourself in now and it is last night.

Maybe you should pretend to stay asleep until he is summoned for anything, but the chances of this are dangerously slim. The light coming from between the curtains doesn't burn into your eyes just yet so it must still be fairly early, maybe you can sneak out before he can return from the land of dreaming. But that'd would leave bigger problems for future you and frankly? future you has gotten sick of your 'dancing around with nothing acknowledged' bullshit.

You take a deep breath, and shut your eyes further– hey perhaps they'll glue themselves together from how tight your muscles are contracting and with your sudden admittance to the hospital and the emergencu of the entire situation, it'll all get forgo–

A sudden noise stops your entire thought process crashing. A trainwreck, yes that's what this is.

Sucking a sharp breathe in, you think 'now or never', suck it up once and face on with courage.

Creaking one eye open and meeting Terzo's eyes on yours, every single muscle in his face loosened and his expression what you can only describe as to be 'at peace', all your anxiety from bare seconds ago gets washed down the drain.

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax, fully, and bask in whatever the future– and he, along with it, will offer you.

1K notes · View notes

serene-sun · 2 months

Text

“Paintless terzo is ugly”

I wanna push him down and make him moan and groan like the old man he is and ride his dick into the sunset like there is no tomorrow bc I wanna kiss his face and make him bleed as I claw his back and make him groan and pull his hair so hard it makes his dick twitch inside of me and make him cum so hard we both fucking die and he fills me with so much cum it falls out of my mouth.

#serene sun no context #the band ghost #serene sun spice time #ghost band #the band ghost x reader #terzo x reader smut

49 notes · View notes

eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 6 months

Text

“delicate touches”

❤︎ synopsis — some awful experiences have left you broken and undesired… that all changes when terzo offers a new way to feel that love

pairing: papa terzo x fem!reader

theme: smut ❣︎ , fluff ✿

a/n: an anon sent this idea in my inbox and i liked it so much i had to write it as a fic. enjoy my lovelies~

the original ask is here.

cw: nsfw content. p in v. vaginal sex. unprotected sex. dirty talk. pet names (italian names included cuz terzo). praise kink. slight bondage. fingering. creampie. terzo being a loving and caring man <3

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

“ah, you mean to tell me you don’t find it appealing at all?” terzo asked the woman sitting across from his table, she just nodded and gently sipped the cup of tea in her hands.

“nope, it’s just not for me.” y/n replied while setting the cup down on the table, enjoying the calm and quiet atmosphere of the ministry’s garden.

she had been well acquainted with the church for a while as a sister of sin, so she’s been around long enough to get to know everyone, including the current papa emeritus, terzo.

y/n had been invited out for a small hangout with terzo, just talking about nothing in particular, until terzo brought up the topic of sex.

she didn’t know how the topic came up, really they were just talking about random things. but it’s not like she was grossed out our anything, y/n was just happy to be spending her time with terzo.

“also i’m kind of… inexperienced too. i’m no virgin by any means, but i just never really experienced it all that much to really understand the appeal.” y/n added on, keeping her hands on her lap while terzo just nodded along.

“i see…” the satanic pope hummed, quietly assessing the sister’s words before speaking again. “i hope you don’t mind me asking, piccolina, but why is that the case? i expect a fine young woman like yourself to be wanted by many people.”

terzo’s words were not hurtful or judging, but rather expressing genuine curiosity with a slight hint of concern. the sincerity in his tone was enough to make y/n’s cheeks blush faintly, but nevertheless she stayed composed.

“bad experience with other people.” she said, her tone almost sounding saddened, but she kept herself in check. “i’ve only ever slept with two other men. however, one of them just seemed disinterested and the other one ended up harming me, only thinking about his pleasure instead of mine.”

terzo let out a soft, almost sad sigh at the sound of it. he didn’t like hearing that. to think a beautiful and gracious young woman like y/n, would be treated so carelessly like an object in bed. it didn’t sit well with terzo, and it made him upset, but he didn’t dare to show that to the sister.

“that’s terrible, cara. it’s unfortunate that you ended up sleeping with such sad excuses of human beings.” the emeritus said, his voice almost turning into a bitter hiss. that caught the attention of y/n.

terzo was always known for being a gentle and caring man, always watching out for his ghouls, siblings of sin and his brothers. however, he seemed awfully bothered by this fact for some reason. y/n didn’t quite pick up on it… but the sight of seeing terzo being so careful and mindful of her well-being.

it was nothing like how those previous men treated her in the sheets.

“please do not worry, papa terzo. it was a long time ago, it barely bothers me now.” the sister insisted, trying to reassure terzo it was okay.

she was lying through her teeth though. truth to be told, she was greatly bothered by it. the people around her have always talked about their sex life and sexual experiences like it was the most magical thing ever. how the closeness and intimacy of it all was a feeling like no other.

it almost felt surreal to her.

she just wished she could relate to them.

a deafening, almost discomforting silence hung between the two of them now, neither one saying a word. as y/n was about to speak, terzo beat her to the punch.

“i’m going to be blunt with you, cara.” terzo started out, before continuing on.

“i don’t want you thinking sex is as mundane and uneventful as it is in your mind. it can be wonderful… a truly magical experience that expands beyond pleasure.”

his hands slowly found their way to y/n’s hands, gently taking them and faintly tracing shapes and patterns into the palm of her hand. her eyes widened and she blushed, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

terzo’s hands were so gentle…

“terzo…” y/n trailed off, feeling both flattered and conflicted.

“i want to change that for you.” terzo admitted, his tone fully serious. “those men weren’t the ones for you. they won’t be able to give you pleasure like i can. please, tesoro… let me show you.”

y/n’s breath hitched at the mere suggestion of it. to think that a papa like terzo would be doing this for her?!it made her heart race… how could she accept something like this? she wanted to… but she was scared.

and yet, her heart was still beating a little faster.

terzo noticed that the girl was stunned, so he kept on speaking in a more soft tone.

“i promise i’ll be gentle. i’ll even throw in some exciting things here and there to make it memorable… you deserve it. because no one, especially you, should be treated so horribly in bed.”

satan dammit, his words were so suave and charming. that was just terzo’s natural charisma getting to y/n. not only was the offering tempting, but it was an opportunity to finally experience what she’s been missing out on.

even if it scared her a little bit, she was willing to take that leap.

with a shaky sigh… she nodded at terzo. “alright, i’ll do it with you.”

terzo wore a delighted and slightly shocked smile, satisfied with the answer. he gripped y/n’s hands a little more firmly before whispering into her ear.

“then let’s take this to my bedroom. shall we?”

❤︎ —

it all happened so fast.

from heavy and steamy kisses, to stripping down every piece of clothing ‘till nothing was left, y/n found herself in quite the predicament.

squirming against the red rope that bound her wrists together on terzo’s bed frame, while letting out breathy, but heavenly moans; y/n was in a state of bliss, feeling quite pleasured from his terzo’s fingers were slipping in and out of her wet entrance.

“mmmh… that’s it, dolcezza … you’re doing great..” terzo whispered sweetly into her ear, staying on her side as he thrusted his fingers inside of her tight hole, being precise with his movements, and hitting all of the sweet spots that had y/n’s legs shaking.

the red rope binding her wrists together was rather secure, but it wasn’t tight. it only added more to the lust brewing within y/n as terzo thrusted his fingers into her puckered hole, brushing against her sensitive nerves and making that slickness between her legs more wet.

“hnnngh… i-i didn’t know you could make someone— ahh~ feel so good with just your fingers…” the sister managed to choke up through her choked up moans. terzo only let out a seductive chuckle and curled his fingers inside of her, making y/n squeal when she felt the tips of his fingers brush against her g-spot

“ahh you have no idea, cara… ohh~ i can make you feel so much better than those dirtbags..” terzo whispered, but it was mostly to himself. he knew it was true; he could definitely make y/n feel better than her past two, unlucky experiences.

the third emeritus wanted to make it special for y/n. he wanted it to be meaningful instead of just mindless sex. that feeling of pure euphoric bliss and overwhelming pleasure is something that terzo felt y/n deserved; especially because she was so beautiful.

ah least to him, she was that beautiful.

terzo continued to thrust his fingers in and out as he fucked y/n’s puckered, slick hole. he was moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to hit all of those sensitive nerves, and he hit a particular spot that had y/n’s legs shaking.

“oh my,” terzo breathlessly muttered out, noticing how her legs were twitching. “i hit your sweet spot, didn’t i?”

y/n nodded to confirm his words, and her voice was raspy with need and desperation. “yes. keep moving them there, please.”

terzo hummed to indicate his agreement, and he started to thrust his fingers more harshly inside of her, hitting that sweet spot. the pope craned his head to bury itself against y/n’s neck as he planted kisses across her flesh, sucking on the skin and littering hickeys all over her skin.

y/n just whined and instinctively writhed against the rope holding her wrists together, feeling her soaking wet walls clamp around terzo’s fingers. she couldn’t help it, he was moving them in such a good way, and the sounds sounded so erotic; but it only turned y/n on even more.

she has never felt like this in her entire life… but maybe this experience will give her a new perspective on sex.

“fuck you’re so tight around my fingers, dolcezza.” terzo cursed breathlessly, being sure to hit all of those right areas inside of y/n while she panted and whined heavily. “so wet too… ahh~ you’re such a good girl.”

that seemed to make the slickness between her legs more intense from that pet name, and terzo took notice of it quickly, smirking seductively.

“you like it when i call you a good girl, eh?” he teased, and the sister tried to look away to hide her blushing face.

“d’awww.. don’t be shy… there’s nothing to be scared of, cara.” terzo purred softly into her ear, continuing to finger y/n while he whispered sweet nothings to her, leaving tender kisses across her cheek and jawline.

“my good… good girl… taking my fingers so well…” terzo praised, sliding his fingers in deeper.

“t-terzo…” y/n croaked out more loudly, her legs twitching more from how terzo moved his fingers in such an experienced way.

suddenly, the pope pulled out his fingers. y/n whined from the feeling, her walls clenching around nothing. terzo’s fingers and y/n’s wet pussy left a trail of her glistening juices connecting to each other, and terzo moaned at the sight.

“fuck that’s hot.” he rasped out with a lustful tone, and he moved to lick his fingers— getting a taste of y/n’s juices.

taking out his fingers with a pop sound, terzo looked down at the sister and smirked, before gently moving his hands to her inner thighs and pushing them apart slightly.

“spread those pretty little legs for me, i’m going to fill you up now.”

she didn’t even think twice and nodded to terzo’s words, opening her legs for terzo to have access, and exposing her gaping, slick hole to the pope, and he could feel himself getting even more hard from the sight.

“satan above, tesoro. you’re such a turn on.” terzo whispered underneath his breath, praising y/n’s figure like she was a forbidden angel sent from the heavens themselves.

terzo was quick to undo the fly on his pants, pulling his boxers down with them, letting his hardened cock spring free from its restraints. y/n’s gaze was locked onto terzo’s girth, and she didn’t think she wanted him inside of her more than ever now.

is this what feeling lust was like? what it truly was supposed to be? because if so, y/n wouldn’t mind experiencing it over and over again.

“please, terzo.” y/n practically begged, her voice as quiet as a mouse. “put it inside of me.”

terzo’s eyes widened with delight, and he quickly smirked. he shimmied his hips closer to y/n’s, grabbing one of her legs and putting it over his shoulder while one of his hands firmly gripped the soft flesh on her thigh.

“with pleasure.” he grunted out. aligning the head of his cock to tease her wet entrance, terzo pushed himself inside of y/n. the sensation of y/n’s vaginal walls clenching around the hardened shaft was enough to make both of them gasp loudly from the pleasure.

“a-ah! fuck!” y/n choked out. she wasn’t used to the penetrating feeling, considering her previous experiences. but terzo made it feel so fucking good. “you’re so big…”

“shit. you’re tight.” terzo gasped out between breaths, keeping himself still inside of the sister, letting her adjust to his size before he started moving.

y/n was squirming around slightly underneath terzo, accommodating herself to his size, despite the difficulty. the pipe brought his head down to y/n’s lips and started to make out with her passionately, distracting her from the feeling of his dick being buried deeply within her pussy.

After a bit of deep kissing and tongue dancing, the two of them parted lips, a trail of glimmering saliva connected between their mouths. the thread of spit cut off, and their hips were still pressed together tightly.

“i’m going to start moving now.” terzo breathed out, and y/n just nodded.

his hip thrusts started slow and sensual. terzo’s cock was stretching out y/n’s pussy hole so much, but it burned in the most pleasurable way possible. the last time this happened, the guy was going too fast for y/n to even feel good.

but terzo wasn’t just thinking of himself. he was also thinking of y/n, and of her pleasure.

it only made the heat pooling at the core of y/n’s stomach much more intense.

“l-lucifer fuck yes, terzo… don’t stop..” she silently begged, moving her hands to dig her painted nails into her boss’ back, and terzo whined from the feeling.

“no way in hell am i stopping.” terzo moaned out, slowly moving his hips a little faster. “not when you feel this good, my love.”

terzo kept on thrusting at a reasonable pace, keeping his movements precise, before he slowly started to speed up a little more. the pope was pounding into y/n’s tight little hole like it was the last cunt he’d ever get. she was so tight around him, it felt so fucking good.

and y/n seemed to be thinking the same thing. her moans slowly got louder as terzo thrusted more, to the point where her noises sounded borderline pornographic. but that didn’t faze terzo at all. in fact, it just made him move faster.

“t-terzo! terzo please!” she cried out in pure ecstasy, the overwhelming waves of lust, pleasure and arousal clouding y/n’s mind.

“f-fuck you’re clenching my cock so well… y-yes just like that, tesoro..” terzo grunted out, keeping one of y/n’s legs over his shoulder as he thrusted into her. “such a good fucking girl for me.. taking my dick so well.. i’m sure those other men can’t make you feel as good as i can, eh?”

terzo was right. those other men y/n slept with couldn’t even compare to how good the third emeritus was in bed. they never watched out for her like this, never made her feel such sensations that had both of their bodies trembling.

she would love to do this again with terzo.

the red ropes binding y/n’s wrists together rubbed against her skin as terzo slammed into her at a rougher pace, making her body shift against the mattress and the bed creak. his cock was rubbing against all of the right spots in her cunny, causing little spurts of her juices to spurt out as she neared her climax.

“n-nngh! t-terzo i’m so close! h-hahh!” y/n whined out, her legs tightening around terzo’s waist.

“g-good… i’m going to fill you with all of my cum it’ll still be dripping out of you after weeks.” terzo groaned out dirtily, his movements getting more frantic as he also was nearing a release.

his thumb moved to rub against y/n’s clit at a quick, yet punishing pace, making her hips jerk forward and her head be thrown back as she screamed terzo’s name.

cum spurted everywhere out of y/n. her cunt clenched tightly around terzo’s shaft while she came all over his dick. the sticky liquid shot out like a jet and she was still twitching during her release.

meanwhile, terzo followed suite. ropes of thick, hot cum came bursting out of him, filling up y/n’s hole as he painted her insides white. there was so much in his load that even some of his essence was trickling out of her hole.

soon after, both of them were left panting heavily on the bed, terzo’s arms barley holding his body up as he hovered over y/n’s breathless figure. slowly, he pulled out of y/n’s pussy, making her whine from the feeling of emptiness that engulfed her.

terzo then slumped down onto the bed next to y/n, and gently pulled her into his arms, caressing her hair softly while cuddling. despite her body still twitching from the aftershocks of sex, y/n still melted into terzo’s touch.

“…. thank you,” y/n whispered into terzo’s neck, and he looked down at her with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

“for what, amore?” he asked with a charming grin, but he had an idea of what she wanted to say.

the sister was so incredibly thankful for terzo’s offer, for making her feel so good. she’s never felt this good in a while… and y/n believed that she wouldn’t have gotten that experience with any other man.

how lucky she was.

“for giving me the fuck of a lifetime.” y/n answered with a more confident grin. terzo was taken aback by her boldness, but he quickly smirked and pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“of course.”

▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆▆

#ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #terzo smut #terzo x reader smut #papa emeritus smut #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa terzo x reader #ghost bc x reader #spicy content #smut fanfiction

64 notes · View notes

ghulehunknown · 6 months

Text

Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅

WARNING!! - NSFW

All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style

Primo

Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)

Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you

Soft and slow, very gentle

Long, painted strokes along your entire area

Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit

Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth

Secondo

Roughly fingers you while eating you out

Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you

Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too

Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him

Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)

Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)

Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him

Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs

Massages your ass and tits while eating you out

Terzo

Would die happy drowned in pussy

Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day

Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt

In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)

Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress

LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe

Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides

Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit

Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming

Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)

Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue

While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will

Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that

Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)

Copia

Kisses every inch of you

Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)

Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)

Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face

Wants to be used like your sex toy

Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off

Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response

He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times

Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it

Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”

Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)

859 notes · View notes

writingjourney · 4 months

Text

Better Than Your Hands | Terzo x f!Reader

You try not to wake your Papa when you come home but he's ever so perceptive as to what you're up to.

Content: 1.1k words, f!reader, smut (mild dom!terzo, caught masturbating, biting, teasing, p in v, light manhandling, unprotected, coming inside) 18+, MDNI

In a shocking twist of events I wrote my first Terzo smut, more as a practice than to share it but I was convinced by my friends. This is for @leezlelatch ♡

Masterlist – Ao3 link

The room is draped in deep shadows. A sliver of pale moonlight falls onto the sleeping man’s face, bare and soft without the edges of his paints, framed by his unkempt raven hair with silver streaks. He looks so peaceful like this, the reading glasses and his book safely resting on the nightstand. He sleeps in the same pose as always – on his back with one hand spread in the direction of your pillow. Only tonight his arms have nothing to curl around.

For a moment you wish you would have come home earlier to see him reading. To have him read to you in Italian like most nights with your head on his pillowy chest. You have settled into a slower life these days and yet it is rare to see him so utterly relaxed. You’ve been wanting him all day, needing him, craving him, but you cannot bring yourself to wake him up so selfishly.

Instead you tiptoe to the bathroom, tiptoe to your closet to find one of his shirts and then tiptoe over to your bed. You’re tired when you soundlessly slip beneath the blankets, exhausted after working so late tonight. You could fall asleep instantly, follow him into this peaceful state, if it weren’t for the persistent throbbing between your thighs.

You roll to your side, facing away from the sleeping man next to you. Your hand slides down your body, no time for gentle caresses as you shove it underneath the waistband of your panties. A soft sigh leaves your lips when you feel the wetness between your legs and you run your fingers through your folds, teasing your clit with every motion. As the friction finally provides some relief, your head falls back into the pillow. You start to rub slow but intense circles, heat slowly spreading in your body. It’s quick and messy but you think you can–

The mattress dips beneath you, a silent, unexpected quake that brings you to a stop as you try to make out any sounds that indicate whether he woke up or not. Before you can turn around a hand much broader than your own slides between your legs, cupping your own, and the strong forearm it’s attached to keeps you still.

“What do you think you are doing here, bella?” he purrs.

You shift uncomfortably, your cheeks heating up. “You were asleep when I got home.”

“Amore, you know you can always wake your Papa when you need him, eh?”

His second arm snakes underneath your body like a serpent, a firm hand spreading over your belly before he pulls you across the mattress and flush against him. One knee pushes between your legs until his thigh is pressed tightly against your wet cunt.

“Do you think I could ever be too tired to fuck you?” he asks.

Encased by his warm body with his voice deep and his breath hot against your ear the only sound you can produce is a moan. Terzo pulls at your panties, pushing them down to your knees until he can line himself up from behind. His cock is already hard, like the mere sight of you pleasing yourself was enough to have him ready for you.

“Oh amore, not even the most vicious storm could keep me from you.” He pushes inside with a grunt, the tip of his cock sliding along your inner walls just so. “N-not even the most biblical of catastrophes.” Another inch, a slow, shallow roll of his hips. “No flood, no thunder, n-no hurricane.” He pulls back, then fills you up with one sharp thrust. “Not even Death himself.”

You keen, uselessly grabbing at the sheets. Terzo’s hand shoots up to grab your chin, angling it towards his mouth.

“Do you understand?”

You nod as best as you can. His fingers dig into your jaw a little more tightly to keep it still. Words. “Yes, Papa.”

A soft kiss to your cheek. “Brava ragazza. Now I will show you what you almost missed.”

He rolls his hips again, letting go of your head to grab your thigh and use it for leverage. His pace picks up as he begins to fuck you, deep and precise thrusts that fill your whole body with pleasure. His own grunts echo in the quiet around you, intermingling with your desperate moans and whimpers.

“Did you think of me all day, bella?” he teases, slowing down as he rubs his nose along your shoulders. “Were you so desperate to have me that you couldn’t go to sleep without touching that sweet little pussy?”

You nod desperately, so fast your head bumps against his jaw.

“Words,” Terzo warns. “Tell your Papa how much you wanted him.”

“I wanted you all day,” you admit, squirming in his hold. “Thought about you in every meeting, even the one with Sister.”

You can feel him grinning against your shoulder blade before he gently bites the tender skin above. Still, he isn’t moving any faster, only gives you these slow, languid thrusts that drive you wild. Impatiently, you push back against him, fucking yourself against his cock, and his initial moan quickly turns into a distorted growl. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your hips before he loses his patience. With one swift roll he has you on your belly, teeth still stuck in your shoulder as he drives himself into you from behind again and again. Your cries are muffled by the pillow and the new angle brings you close to the edge within seconds. You can feel him so deep inside of you, his whole body weighing you down until all you can focus on is the heat in your lower belly.

Terzo pushes his hand back between your bodies, leaning heavily on his other arm, and he hardly grazes your clit before you spasm around him. He groans when he feels you tightening, the orgasm a heavy crash of pleasure and relief. Terzo’s rhythm falters when he follows you, rolling his hips a few more times until he curses under his breath and eventually stills. His hair falls into his face until you can feel it tickling the skin of your neck and shoulder, all while his cock empties inside of you.

With two more lazy thrusts he prolongs both of your pleasure, fucking his come deeper into you while your body goes limp underneath him. He inhales sharply, humming against your ear before he pulls you both back onto your sides. His lips leave a soft trail of kisses over the bite on your shoulder, then up your neck until he can reach your jaw.

“Better than your hands, amore, hm?” he teases as his arms wrap tightly around you again.

You lean into his embrace, content and happy. “So much better.”

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

#terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo smut #terzo fanfiction #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #papa emeritus iii smut #the band ghost fanfiction #reader insert #female reader

436 notes · View notes

honey-tongued-devil · 7 months

Text

Sinners' tango

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.

1K notes · View notes

angellayercake · 2 months

Text

You know you have it bad when you start fantasizing about the silliest softest things imaginable.

Travelling alone is an absolute nightmare on your skin, let alone wearing and sweating in the thick paints every night. Using only horrible hotel room water and cheap soap to wash it off and he is from a generation of men that do not know what moisturiser is.

One day you get tired of seeing him rub at his face with a soapy wash cloth so you take matters into your own hands. You confiscate his usual products and send him into his post ritual shower with a foamy cleanser with careful instructions to only use his hands.

He grumbles when he is finished the stubborn black paint still covering his face but you shush him as you wrap him in the fluffy complimentary robe and sit him in front of you at the mirror. He spares you one last glare before he closes his eyes at your request and lets you get to work.

You begin with a cleansing balm, melting away the remnants of his paint until there are no traces left even in the most stubborn areas. His thick eyebrows, the corners of his eyes and his jawline. He is starting to relax under your hands already, his shoulders relaxing and his brow smoothing at least as much as it can. There are some lines so deep that no amount of relaxation will smooth away but you love him all the more for them.

You wipe the product away with damp cotton pads until his face is clean and clear and as reluctant as he is to admit it this already feels much better than his usual routine as you generously called it. You explain what you are doing as you continue through the next steps. Gentle acidic exfoliation focusing just on the dryer patches that form at the corners of his lips and between his eyebrows.

He had scoffed when you had first explained the products you had chosen but as you apply each layer he begins to feel the deep hydration you are working into his skin. The usual stiff tightness he ignores as he collapses in his bed never even starts as you pat toner into his skin and he can't help the range of expressions he pulls in the mirror without feeling that familiar uncomfortable pull.

You encourage his eyes closed again so you can smooth some light cream over his eyelids, the delicate skin especially abused by his thick black paint and vigorous scrubbing to remove it. Then a thicker balm for his lips though you suspect this is one product he is more than familiar with. You were well acquainted with his soft lips and the fact that they were never ever chapped.

Finally you apply the moisturizer, working it everywhere you can reach, soothing the tension in his temples and jaw, sweeping across his cheekbones and forehead and working down his chin to his neck until every bit of product has been absorbed.

You settle your hands over his chest feeling his slow steady heartbeat and watch as his eyes flutter open, lost as he was in your gentle treatment of him. His face is glowing but not only from the lotions and potions but from his satisfaction. You have shared something with him that may seem small or insignificant but that shows you care for him in a way very few people have before.

He presses his hands to his face marveling at how soft it feels and accuses you of working some kind of magic and demands you explain to him exactly what you did to make him feel so good. You swat at his chest playfully. You had been explaining all along if he had bothered to listen but he takes your hands in his, kissing your palms and explaining how he couldn't have concentrated on anything but your talented fingers.

He gives you that look you can never resist and smiles when you go all the way back to the beginning, listening intently as you explain but only relinquishing one of your hands for your demonstration. You would go through it all a thousand times if I made him as happy as he looks in this moment.

#this is more embarrassing than any of the smut i have ever written #i just want to look after him 😭#terzo #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #my writing

191 notes · View notes

brighteyedbushybrowed · 8 months

Note

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

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

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

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

Absolute shower man

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

The opposite of Secondo in terms of pace

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

401 notes · View notes

her-satanic-wiles · 2 months

Text

“That’s it, tesoro! Just like that.”

Terzo was behind you, his cock buried so deep in your hole you could feel him in your stomach. His hands were on your hips, gripping them tightly as he pounded you so thoroughly, sharp and deep grunts were being pulled from your body involuntarily.

Membership tiers 'Priest' and above get special monthly drabbles, so please enjoy February's!

36 notes · View notes

canarycolemine · 6 months

Text

The Cardinale

Pairing: Cardinal Terzo x Female Reader

Summary: Cardinal Terzo is one arragont motherfucker.

AO3 Link

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only. hate sex. lots of it. cardinal is a little cheeky piece of shit. WC 4.4k.

Heavily inspired by @mardyart's depiction of Cardi T. Such a phenomenal artist!

Cocky, arrogant, headstrong.

The third Emeritus brother, destined to become Papa one day, nepotism to the highest degree. His suave, angular face and his overly confident charms - how he assumes every Sister will fall into his bed.

How I despise him. How I hope to never fall under his gaze, never be subjected to his attention.

Imagine my rage when Sister Superior informed me that I, her star pupil, will be responsible for tutoring the bastard in English.

He was “reassigned” to the country-side Abbey after displaying what I can only imagine was simply inappropriate behavior for an upper clergy member. The man believes that he can seduce and bed any living thing! Perhaps it’s not a matter of belief, but a goal, rather. At his current pace, he will have had most of the Sisters in his bed before the year is up!

Watching him saunter through the halls, smoking his little cigarettes - inside! I always made a concerted effort to cough as I walked past, head held high. He would simply perish, it seems, if he did not attempt to woo a woman a day. Kissing their hands, wearing his stupid white gloves, and winking that shining white eye.

I love my Sisters, but please, have some self-respect.

Quite frankly, I’ve always been appalled by his behavior. He has never led an entire black mass by himself, needing his brothers to finish the job. There was even one instance where I could have sworn he had a sister hidden under the pulpit from where he stood, evidently having communion. No, Cardinal Terzo only ever wanted to lead the rituals - the demon and ghoul summonings (he needs new things to fuck), the mystic elements (anything he can light on fire), and of course, orgies. (duh!).

It was early fall when Sister Superior invited me to her office. I was promised tea; secretly, I had hoped she would invite me to teach a seminar or two over the semester. My lecture series on the invocation of Lilith and Samuel could rival even the Dark One’s knowledge, himself!

But, no.

“The Cardinal is in desperate need of more restraint, and he could benefit from a more rigorous understanding of the English language. He prefers to speak in his mother tongue, and truthfully, it is not accommodating to international chapters.” Superior started, my ears perked at the mention of my personal enemy. I brought the steaming cup to my mouth. “I could think of none other to teach him all of these skills rather than you, Sister.”

I could hardly register the hind notes of the tea before it went straight through my nose, burning the whole way up! I coughed and sputtered the hot liquid at the shock of my assignment.

Still catching my breath, “My apologies, Sister, but… why me?”

“Give yourself credit, Sister. You are a star pupil!” A shine in her eyes, a smirk in her mouth let me know two things - she meant what she said and there was another reason, too.

My eyes narrowed, seeking the answers in her eyes.

“And you’re the only student that the Cardinal has not gotten to know… intimately.” Her lips pursed, looking towards the ground.

“Sister Superior…” I started, not above begging.

“Sister, I will make it worth your while. I will make sure you have your lecture series as a mandatory presentation for all first-year novicates.” A smile crossed my face, but dropped; still, the deal was unsatisfactory.

I sat up a little straighter, now making a dare. “And, no kitchen duty for the entirety of his lessons.” I hated the kitchens. Everything I’ve ever made was burnt to a crispr, so I’ve always been delegated to cleaning the dishes - the worst thing in the world.

She nodded, “That can be arranged.”

I smiled, relaxing a little, but how it only lasted so long. Resigned to my fate, I was excused to prepare for my lesson with the Cardinal this Tuesday.

A pause from my duties was provided in anticipation - he needed to be assessed for his English skills - grammar, vocabulary and pronunciation. From my understanding, he had a functional grasp on the language. But I did not really know.

Truth be told, I have never spoken even a word to the Cardinal - always avoiding him, always souring my face when his eyes gazed at me. I wanted to be wholly unappealing to the man. For the most part, he had taken the hint and left me alone. Although, I could have sworn he said something in Italian as I walked past, something like “how I want to be the stick up her…” I didn’t inquire further.

By Lucifer’s grace, I had successfully avoided him. Until the sunset on the second day of the week, when our paths collide.

I arrived at our designated location - one of the older classrooms, repurposed for private studying, long abandoned by the day. Thirty minutes early to the beginning of the lesson, how I tidied our space, laid the materials out and cleaned the chalkboard.

The hanging wall clock, the ever present heartbeat, kept steady. It was almost unnerving, as if keeping me in tempo with the eventual encounter with the asshole. The old bell tower clock rang out 6 times.

And the aforementioned asshole was not here. The door was unlocked, the sun firmly setting. My lips tightened to a pout. I will give him five minutes - no more.

Electing to sit in one of the old desks I rearranged, I pulled out a trusty book, as I had anticipated his tardiness.

Some twenty odd pages in, and I had lost track of time entirely - forgotten the reason I was in this dusty room. The bastard didn’t even show up, easily thirty minutes late! Quite frankly, it was embarrassing that I managed to stay this long. But now, I elected to start the process of cleaning my things.

In the morning, I planned to tell Sister Superior that I will simply not take the Cardinal as a student, he had no respect for my time. Future Papa or not, not enough breaths on this Earth could be spared for a man with little regard for others.

I managed to talk myself through this script as I cleaned up my belongings, nearly whispering her retorts back. But I would not be deterred! Lost in the monologue, I heard a hoard of boys giggling, getting closer to the door.

No, no. It could not be.

The door opened, the raven haired cardinal stumbled in - his pack of brothers falling behind him. Laughing at some lewd joke, no doubt. He turned to look at me, suddenly stiffening his posture. The smug smile falling from his face. He offered some excuse to the men behind him, closing the door to the two of us. He leaned against the old door frame, creaking under his weight. As if that would make him look cooler. The black cassock he preferred was immaculately ironed - surely not by his own hands. Maybe he was screwing the laundry girls.

I tried hard to keep my gaze away from him. My rage and my pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Scusa sorella, I, eh, lost the time.” He offered with a shrug of his shoulders. His voice was rich with his mother tongue.

“Well, Cardinal, I won’t keep you long, then. Our lesson is canceled.” I coldly retorted.

“Che cosa?”

“Canceled, cardinal.” I spat back, lifting my book and walking towards him. “You were late.”

“But I am here now, no?” That white eye twinkled - a charm that assuredly got him into many sisters’ beds.

“And I have been here, Cardinal. For thirty minutes past our scheduled time. Either your watch is broken or you have so little regard for others that time is no object to you?” I said, every syllable articulated, glaring at him.

His eyebrow quirked, a challenge, he supposed. A grin crossed his face, a chuckle that died in his throat.

“It really is you, eh sister?”

“What?” I shot back, whatever could he mean by that?

“You - you,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one to his lips, lighting it, and puffing the smoke away from us, “I thought my school would be with you. You are the sister that always walks with a stick up her ass.”

I made a pointed effort to cough at his smoke.

“Some of us have priorities besides fucking an entire congregation, Cardinal.”

“Am I really so evil, Sorella?” he feigned offense, the cigarette affecting his enunciation. Removing from his lips, another puff. “To celebrate our eh, how do you say, istinti?”

“Instincts.” I corrected.

“Ah, si, instincts. That is why we are here, no? Our Lord calls us to do just that.”

“You’ve got quite the head start on the sin of lust, Cardinal, I don’t think you could ever live long enough to dedicate your life to such… dedicated studies of the other sins.”

“It is my favorite.” His white gloves took the cigarette from his mouth, curling it between his fingers, before dropping it to the ground to extinguish the flame. His shoes shined brilliantly, even I could admit, but as I gazed at his shoes, I swore he winked at me through the reflection of his face.

“You really shouldn’t smoke, you know.”

“It is not good for me, this I know.” “I couldn’t care about what happens to you, the flame isn’t good for these old buildings. You’d burn down the whole abbey.”

“You say you don’t care about me sister.” He moved past me, further into the room, settling in one of the old teachers' desks. He kicked those expensive shoes onto the desk, relaxing back into the chair. “But I do not think that is so true.”

I faced him fully, still standing near the door. “I promise you, I do not.”

“Hm,” he chuckled, bringing his gloved hand to his mouth, running the fabric gently against his lower, unpainted lip. “No.” He said so sternly.

“What?”

“What?” he mocked me, a voice that was far too high pitched to be an imitation of me.

I let out an exasperated sigh, to which he laughed.

“Fuck you.” I went for my bag, still at the old desk.

“Do you want to know how I know this?” He said, staring at my rage.

“I doubt you ever shut up, so it doesn’t really matter what I want.”

“Sorella,” he sat up in the chair, his feet meeting the ground and his hands coming together on the desk. “We have not spoken any words to each other. But you hate me so much?”

I huffed. “You have no respect for anyone but yourself!” I could feel an all too familiar lump in my throat.

“How do you know this?” His patience now wearing thin, I could hear it.

“You walk around the abbey like you own the place. I get it, I know you’re the future Papa, but God damn it, you are so arrogant. You’ve never had to work for anything in your life! You think you can just fuck anyone and anything that walks through these doors. You’ve had everything handed to you by a silver spoon, and I hate it.”

My eyes watered, I couldn’t look at him. Whether from my rage or some secret hopes I had, I could feel the emotion.

“I’ve worked so fucking hard to get where I am, and I will never be anything close to you, just because you’re, fucking, you! And now, I have to waste my time teaching you English because you can’t stay focused for more than five seconds!”

My fist met the school table. His face leaned into his hands, thinking too carefully about the situation. His eyebrow quirked.

“... You are jealous of me, then?” He hid a smirk behind his hands.

I glared at him, how I wish my stare could kill.

“Fuck. You.”

“That does not sound like a no.” No effort in hiding his smirk now.

“Since when does ‘no’ matter to you?” I baited.

He feigned offense, yet again, bringing his hand to his chest. “Sorella, I am offended! I can promise you all of my sexual encounters have been enthusiastic by all parties. I would not dare to violate another!”

“What a well constructed sentence, Cardinal. It seems like you have no need for any help with the English language.”

“Ah, she has gotten me off of the topic…”

“All I had to do was talk about sex, so it wasn’t too hard, was it now?”

“No, no, no, we were talking about you, si! About how you are so jealous of me.” He ran that stupid fucking gloved hand through his hair, slicked with grease.

“Even now, you cannot say you are not jealous of me. Admit it.”

I paused. “So what?”

He clapped his hands, catching me apparently.

“She is! She is very jealous of my status and my future. But, I think she is jealous of not only me, no?” His tone shifted, in a direction I was not comfortable with.

“What?”

“She is also very jealous of all of the people that I get to fuck.” He punctuated the syllables far too clearly.

I huffed again, rolling my eyes. “There it is again. She does not say ‘no!’”

I hated how well he was reading me.

“Why do you even care? You fuck everything with a pulse, so why do you care?”

Fuck. I was not selling this very well. His gaze told me everything. The raised eyebrow, the smug pull of his painted lips.

He tilted his head, as if to study me further. I could feel myself recoil.

“You have done too much assuming, Sorella. About me, about yourself.”

He stood from the chair and stalked towards me. Instinctively, I crept back from him, nearing the wall for safety.

“You think I do not care about anyone but me, and that is not true. You think I abuse my future position, but that is not true either. And you think I fuck anything with a pulse.” He reached me, cornering me against the wall.

“And that,” he brought his finger to my chin, forcing my eyes to his, “is not true. I only fuck the pretty ones.”

Here is where I could be offended, he never fucked me. I thought that I was fairly pretty, so damn, that kinda hurt my feelings.

Sensing the monologue, “And you are a pretty one.” His painted lips gently touched mine.

God damn it. I hated how good that felt.

“So you see, sister, I knew you thought all of this.” His other hand reached for my waist, exploring the dip of my body. “I saw the way you scowled at me, pretending to hate me. It was all jealousy. But there is something about the way you hated me that pulled me so, so close. I needed to have you.”

“But how to get to you?” His hands reached for mine, holding them in place, behind my back.

“Who better to teach me restraint?” he purred.

“I act like an asshole for a while, speak in Italian with my friends. I get the attention of the Sister Superior, who will certainly demand I be subdued by studies.” His painted lips traveled a path along my jaw to my ear. “And who here have I not fucked?”

His teeth grazed my earlobe. “I could deceive the world for you.”

I bit my lip. His gaze returned to mine.

“Pretty good, no?”

“Pretending you’re stupid was a very believable act, apparently.” I mustered out, flustered as I was.

“Don’t deceive me now, Sorella.” His lips met mine again, pressing his forehead to mine. “There is one thing I need to hear you say.” His words left his mouth easily, but he was not unaffected. Just as flustered as I.

I huffed, pausing for only a moment.

“Si.”

His lips crashed to mine, with a fire that was barely restrained before. He released my hands from behind my back; his hands traveled to my hips, lifting me. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist.

We traveled through the room, locked in the heated kiss, when he sat me on the teacher’s desk.

“On the teacher’s desk?” I giggled, taking in the chosen location.

“It’s always been a fantasy.” He laughed back, then resumed his fury on my neck.

His large hands reached for my habit, pulling it off in a fell swoop. Evident of his experience, it hardly hurt. He pulled away from me, just gazing at me for a moment.

“Pretty one.” As if he didn’t know he said it.

Fuck.

I lead the charge back to his mouth, my hands now locking into his raven locks. The diligent work of unbuttoning that goddamn stupid black cassock. I gave it my best shot. My hands kept slipping on the buttons, struggling to unhook them. He chuckled from our kiss, removing my hands from him.

“Having trouble, darling? It’s always difficult.” His gloved hands made the show unbuttoning each cotton button - traveling down in body in quite the show.

Once to the bottom, he stepped out of the garment and removed his crisp white undershirt. I was out of my body, unaware of how I looked as I looked at him. Each new sight of his skin lit a fire in me. He was as slender as I thought he would be, well defined, certainly. A healthy patch of hair on his chest - he was certainly Italian.

A glance to his eyes knew how I enjoyed his spectacle.

Cocky, arrogant, and headstrong was the Cardinale.

“Your turn.”

He came back to my neck, teasing the delicate flesh. The first moan slipped from my lips as he sucked the skin purple.

“Good girl.” He purred. He lifted my habit from my legs, over my head, leaving me in my undergarments. Pausing his efforts to take in my form. A glance in his eyes - like my body was a feast for his soul. Another look at my undergarments, “Matching?” in reference to the black bra and panties I was sporting.

Guilty.

He leaned closer to me, resting an arm on the table. Teasingly, looking into me.

“Women match when they are planning to be fucked.” My eyes turned from his, embarrassing me again. His other hand came to my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “Was there someone else, Sorella?”

I opened my mouth, but the words failed me.

“No.” He answered for me, feigning sympathy. “There wasn’t, was there?”

My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t admit it.

“Say it, then.”

Bastard.

“Say it, pretty one, I do not have all night.” His voice nearly sang.

The fire his was stroking in me burned, “I need you to fuck me.” I whined, my eyes nearly starting to water.

His hand, holding my gaze, went to my shoulder, forcing me to lay on the old, creaking desk. Quickly, he made work removing my bra. Adoringly, he stared at the exposed skin.

Wordlessly, he painted my breasts with his lips. As his lips latched around my nipple, I whimpered, already so sensitive. His other hand toyed with the opposite breast, kneading the flesh. As his teeth grazed the delicate flesh, he nearly pinched the opposite.

Another gasp escaped.

“She likes it when it hurts?”

Obviously. I fucking hated him so much.

He mirrored his actions on the opposite breasts before trailing his kisses further down my torso. Nipping at the skin, kissing it, dragging his tongue.

He left a particularly gentle kiss below my navel, as he gazed back at me. Wordlessly asking.

I nodded.

He hooked his hands to the elastic of the lacy panties, dragging them off of my legs in a well-practiced motion.

“Spread your legs.” I obliged, as he pulled the teacher’s chair to sit in between my legs.

His gaze never left my core, which he could see how he affected me. He lifted my legs onto his shoulders, granting a better view. Biting the fingers of his gloves, removing them. Gently working the muscle of my inner thighs, unconsciously creeping higher.

Reaching my core, his uncovered hands spread me open further to him. He gazed reverently.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He stroked my slit delicately, I shivered and whined at the feeling. “Such a pretty girl.”

He brought his face close, kissing my mound and licking the slit all the way up. He left gentle kisses onto my already sensitive clit, dying for attention. He latched his lips around the bud, suckling softly.

As his tongue flicked my clit, I bucked my hips into his mouth, firming my grip in his hair.

He unlatched to drag his tongue, flattened, up and down my core. His tongue prodded at my entrance, lapping at my slick. His fingers moved towards my center, replacing his mouth, pressing into me.

One finger - pumping slowly into me - adjusting the feeling. Adding another one, stretching slightly. His eyes studied my face for discomfort. Once I adjusted, his divine mouth returned to my clit, alternating between kissing and suckling. His fingers curled into me, searching. When they found the spongy tissue inside, the moans fell easily. Begging him. He teased the spot, expertly. Pressing into it with each pump, as he sucked on my clit.

“Cardinal-” I started. “I’m getting - close” I managed to get out.

I could feel a smile on his lips as he continued, speeding his actions.

The band in my stomach was burning, stretching, white hot. At the precipice, as my cries started to build.

When suddenly he stopped. Sitting back, removing his mouth and fingers from me.

I shuddered at the loss of sensation, being so close. I sat up slightly to look at him.

The fucker was wiping my slick from his chin, licking his fingers clean.

Apparently, my face told him how close I was, how it was moments away.

“I wanted to feel it on my cock, darling.” His eyebrow raised. “Plus, it feels better when you ruin it a little bit.”

A fight was breaking in my head, an internal debate I was having with him.

His belt jingled, his pants being slid down and discarded. Left in pristine white boxers, which he lowered. His cock sprang free, dripping with his precum.

“I could have came just from tasting you, you know?” as he began languidly stroking himself, using himself to lubricate the movements. “All of your little sounds, they sounded so sweet. And you were oh so close, weren’t you?”

His teasing was back, his hand sped up, only to build himself up more. I whined.

“Just think. Even an hour ago, you were cursing my name, wanting me dead. Look at you now - begging for my cock.”

He pressed his cock into my core, rubbing the reddened head onto my clit. A guttural noise fell from me. An animalistic cry.

“She was so jealous of me, too. And now all she wants to be is fucked by me. Maybe she’ll die if she doesn’t get it, what do you think?”

“Please, Terzo.” “Oh, using my name now? What happened to ‘asshole?’” His voice cracked, unaffected by his own need.

“Please fuck me.” I cried out, a tear falling from my eye.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” Tumbling out.

On command, he aligned himself and pressed into my dripping heat. Feeling every inch of my warmth, he shuddered and groaned.

“So, so good” he whispered.

He filled me exquisitely, pressing in carefully, allowing me to adjust. My nails marked his back, savoring every inch.

His hips finally met mine, I swore I could feel him in my stomach. He let out a breath, unsteadied from restraint.

“Don’t have that restraint now, Cardinal.” I teased. “Move.”

A low groan from him, as his hips rolled, moving back. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I don't.”

“Try your worst.”

He slammed forward again, now setting a punishing pace. Feeling the drag of his cock on my walls, I whined. His hands tilted my hips further up, angling to my sweet spot. I gasped at the pressure. It was returning - the precipice. He couldn’t rob me a second time.

“Perhaps, sorella, it is you who needs a lesson, eh?” He nearly coughed through, maintaining his pace. “I could teach you something.”

His hand moved towards we were joined, circling my clit. It was becoming too much - the sweet pressure of him inside and now his devious fingers.

His fingers moved quickly on my clit, building the fire again. My moans telling him it all. As if in perfect rhythm, his pistoning hips and circling fingers.

“Let’s countdown, darling. In Italian.”

His other hand came to my chin, forcing my gaze. He nodded, as if to reassert his power. “It goes…dieci, nove…”

The fire was reaching a breaking point, I knew what he was doing now. His fingers still moved with a steady speed.

“Otto, sette, sei…”

“...Terzo…” I whined.

“Cinque, quattro, tre…”

“I’m gonna…”

“Due, uno.”

The waves of pleasure crashed down on me, my legs shaking. My vision blurry, white hot. His hips stuttered, as I felt him swell inside, riding out my pleasure. Milking him for all he had. The course of our cries rang in the old room. His fingers didn’t stop until I whined with oversensitivity, his spend leaking from me.

He stayed inside, pressing his full weight onto me.

We held each other in an embrace, coming down from divinity. Our breaths in sync, slowing down.

My breath nearly returned to me as I came to, laughing with what air I had.

“What’s so funny?” His smirk shined with a warmth I had not seen before.

“A countdown to my orgasm. Cheeky.”

He laughed. “It worked, eh?”

“Don’t be too full of yourself.”

“I cannot, you are full of me.”

“Ew! Don’t say it like that, dumbass.”

“There is the girl that hates me. I missed her.” He gazed at me, smiling more softly now, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear. Holding my face in his hand, so gently. He placed the last soft his to my lips.

“And I’ll never stop hating you, Cardinal.”

“So be it, but it has worked out well for me so far, huh?”

Bastard.

#my writing #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #sister of sin #ghost band fanfic #Cardinal Terzo #terzo x reader #ghost band smut #papa emeritus smut #this is unholy #my apologies

246 notes · View notes

bupia · 6 months

Text

Serendipity: Chapter 1 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a Halloween night, you, along with Terzo and his family, head to the Ministry for an annual ball to celebrate this beloved day. On this occasion, you have the chance to meet Terzo's brothers, whom you've heard about for so long: Primo, Secondo, and most notably, the current Papa Emeritus, Copia.

Words: 7.811

A/N: Happy Halloween! After 30 days of The Ministry Kinktober, I thought it'd be fun to start a new series with Copia, this time casting him in the role of Papa Emeritus IV. I hope you all find it enjoyable.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

Day 1: The Halloween ball.

Not too long ago, you had taken on the role of a nanny for Terzo's family, a job that might have seemed traditional but had turned into something quite extraordinary. It was a simple job, as you saw it, but it held a unique charm. You didn't need what people would call a "proper job." You had found an opportunity and embraced it with open arms.

Your life with Terzo, Angèle, and little Andras had begun when you first met them. The revelation that a Papa could marry and have children had initially surprised you, but as the months passed, you grew to understand why.

Terzo, was the former Papa Emeritus III, he had retired from his role but retained his title, akin to a seasoned veteran who continued to bear the honor of his past. He belonged to a unique religious group, far from the conventional churches that prayed to God and Saints. It was a Satanic Ministry.

Terzo had been apprehensive that you would run away upon learning the truth, but why would you? You saw no harm in their beliefs, and they were a joyful, healthy, and loving family. It was just one more facet of their lives, like an extra spice that enhanced the flavor of your experience, which may not have made much sense to outsiders, but to you, it was just an intriguing facet of their lives. You wouldn't judge them for it.

Over time, you had naturally learned more about their religion, not because they imposed it on you, but because you had an open mind and a willingness to listen. They always made sure you were comfortable with the information they shared, never pushing you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. However, what had truly piqued your interest was when you heard about the existence of Ghouls, and your excitement had reached peak levels when you finally met Dewdrop, one of the oldest Ghouls of the Ministry.

As you became closer to the family, Angèle shared pictures of their life in the Ministry, including images of Terzo's brothers. Primo, the eldest, had a commanding presence during his time as a Papa, but Angèle assured you he was a kind soul. Secondo, just three months older than Terzo, always wore an intimidating frown and had an impeccable sense of style.

And then, there was Copia, the current Papa Emeritus of the ministry and the new leader of Ghost. From the pictures Angèle showed you, Copia seemed to have it all. His handsome features and warm smile made your heart race, and the sight of him holding little Andras in a nursery photo nearly brought you to tears; it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, circling back to the present, tonight was Halloween night, and you, Terzo, Angèle, and Andras were en route to the Ministry, all dressed in your costumes. The creative family had chosen to embody the Addams Family, while you, wanting to fit in somehow, had opted for a nun costume. In hindsight, it might not have been the best choice for a gathering at a satanic Ministry, but it was too late to change now.

As you got closer to the ministry, a wave of apprehension washed over you. You had grown accustomed to Terzo's family and their satanic customs, but tonight was different, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect, especially in the company of his brothers. In your heart, you knew your role was that of a nanny and nothing more. Yet, a part of you yearned to connect with the people you would meet tonight, especially since Terzo would be spending a week within the Ministry starting by today. He had explained that this was an opportunity to address some important matters with the clergy and to provide guidance to his brother, Copia, in his new role, alongside Primo and Secondo.

Also, you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about meeting Copia in person. You hoped he lived up to the handsome figure he cut in the pictures Angèle had shared with you.

"We are almost there, Papa," Dewdrop's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, refocusing your attention on the road ahead. You glanced at the rearview mirror, where you could see Andras peacefully asleep in Angèle's arms. Terzo sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her leg. It was unusual for Terzo not to be the one behind the wheel, but tonight, given the formal nature of the ministry's event, Dewdrop had been assigned to chauffeur you all in one of the ministry's official cars.

A smile tugged at your lips as you admired the loving scene before you. Then, you turned your gaze to the Ghoul seated right beside you. "You didn't want to put on a costume for today, Dewdrop?" you asked playfully.

Dewdrop chuckled and replied, "I don't think I need one."

You couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Well, that's true. You are already in the Halloween spirit every day. I thought you would have convinced him to dress up as Lurch," you said as you turned your face to Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ho tentato," he said with a grin, "but he refused. Apparently, driving a car for us today is already pushing the boundaries of his Ghoul image."

Dewdrop nodded with a smirk. "I have to maintain my Ghoul dignity, Papa."

As the car made a slight turn, you laid eyes on an old building that resembled a church. It bore a striking resemblance to the other churches you had seen before, but there was something uniquely captivating about it. The building was grand, situated on a sprawling piece of land adorned with a beautiful garden. It left you in awe, and your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the sight.

The car continued its way until it came to a stop in front of the large building. A group of Ghouls, more than you were accustomed to, had gathered by the entrance and swiftly approached the car. This was the first time you had seen so many of them at once; you were typically only in the company of Dewdrop.

"We are here," Dewdrop announced.

"Grazie, Dewdrop, for bringing us here today."

The Ghouls opened the car doors for Terzo and Angèle, who wasted no time in stepping out. However, you remained seated inside, gazing forward. Dewdrop reached out and gently touched your arm.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Dewdrop reassured you with a warm smile. "There's no need to be nervous. Everything will be fine. Come with me, and you'll be fine."

He opened his door, then walked to your side, opening your door as well. You took Andra's bag and stepped out, and he closed the door behind you. Dewdrop offered you his arm, and you took it gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Glancing over at Terzo and Angèle, who were already waiting by the front door, you and Dewdrop made your way to join them. Two of the Ghouls opened the grand entrance, allowing Terzo to enter first, followed by Angèle, who held Andras in her arms. You followed closely behind them, hand in arm with Dewdrop, taking in the vastness of the ministry. It exceeded your expectations in size and grandeur. The Halloween decorations added a whimsical touch to the solemn atmosphere, and the faint strains of music drifted to your ears from a distance. A sense of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you stepped further into the ministry, eager to immerse yourself in the evening's festivities.

"Dear," Angèle's voice reached your ear as you walked alongside Dewdrop.

"Yes, miss?" you responded, instinctively using a formal title.

"I already told you, you can call me by my name," Angèle chided gently. "Can you hold him for me?"

"I'm sorry, mi- Angèle," you corrected yourself and reached out to take Andras into your arms, handling him with care.

Terzo flashed you a warm smile, and they continued to make their way toward the music. You returned to Dewdrop's side, walking alongside him as the music grew louder, guiding you to a room with its doors wide open. A Ghoul approached and led the way, with Terzo and Angèle following closely behind.

"Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, and his beloved wife, Angèle, have arrived," the Ghoul announced at the door.

Terzo and Angèle entered the room, and you and Dewdrop followed suit. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of incredible. The room was filled with people, dancing, conversing, and enjoying themselves to the fullest. The colorful lights on the ceiling illuminated the space in a mesmerizing display. Halloween decorations adorned the room, and the lively disco music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was positively infectious.

Dewdrop turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "So, what do you think of all this?"

You couldn't contain your excitement as you looked around, taking in the grandeur of the event. "It's stunning! The ball is so grand, and there are so many people... I don't have words to describe it."

Dewdrop reached out and gently placed a hand on your lower back, leaning in closer to your ear. "I need to leave you now. I have to be around the ministry with the other Ghouls. Promise me you'll have fun, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at Dewdrop as he departed the room to attend to his duties. Your attention turned to Terzo and Angèle, who had moved farther away from you. Adjusting Andras in your arms as he began to wake up, you smiled down at the little one.

"Hello there, little one," you cooed, gently brushing your fingers across Andras's soft cheek. He responded with a radiant smile, accompanied by a symphony of baby sounds.

You made your way over to Terzo and his wife, who were standing near one of the tables adorned with a small paper sign that read "Papas." As you approached, someone came up behind you, and Terzo turned to face the newcomer.

"Fratello!" Terzo exclaimed, opening his arms and walking toward the person. "Where is your costume?"

Turning to see who it was, you found Secondo, one of Terzo's brothers, dressed in a very elegant dark green suit that emphasized all the curves and lines of his body, impeccably tailored to perfection. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. As he approached Terzo, they embraced warmly, and you couldn't help but notice how well Secondo carried himself in his stylish attire.

"I can't believe you didn't wear the costume I told you to," Terzo playfully chided as they pulled away.

"Terzo, I was not going to be Uncle Fester just because you asked me to," Secondo replied with a sigh.

"Why not, fratello? It would have been fun!" Terzo countered, clearly amused.

"Sì, for you, only," Secondo replied with a resigned tone. He then looked around and laid his eyes on you. "Oh, here he is! And who is this, signora?"

"She is our nanny," Angèle chimed in, going to your side and placing her hand on your back.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Papa," you said, extending your hand toward him, and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

"Il piacere è tutto mi," he replied with a charming smile, still holding your hand.

"Terzo!" another voice called from behind you, and you turned to see who it was.

"Primo!" Terzo exclaimed with a chuckle. "Fratello, hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso!"

Indeed, Primo was dressed as Uncle Fester, and you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He approached your group and hugged Terzo, just as Secondo had done earlier.

"See, fratello?" Terzo said, glancing at Secondo. "Primo has the Halloween spirit!"

"So you basically asked for the two of us to dress as Uncle Fester because you knew one of us would come as it?" Secondo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"One of you was bound to do it," Terzo replied teasingly.

"Cretino," Secondo muttered in a sharp tone, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Secondo," Primo said with a disapproving look, then turned his gaze to you. "And who is this bella signora?"

"This is Andra's nanny, fratello," Terzo clarified.

Primo approached you with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, bella," he said gently. "And it seems our piccolo demone is awake."

You smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you too, Papa. And yes, Andras is quite awake and lively right now."

Primo extended his arms, and you handed Andras over to him. "Ciao piccolo," he greeted with a smile. "Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone."

"Zio preferito? You wish, fratello," Secondo chimed in as he approached Primo. He extended his hand toward Andras, who eagerly clasped one of his fingers with his tiny hand, letting out a sweet giggle. "See? He knows who his zio prefereito is. He's even smiling at me."

"Smiling at you?" Primo countered with playful banter. "The bambino is laughing at you."

The brothers exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirit lightening the mood as Andras enjoyed their attention. You briefly averted your eyes to take in the lively atmosphere of the Halloween ball. The joyous spirit in the room was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel like you belonged there.

"Where is Copia?" Angèle inquired.

As you heard his name, your attention snapped back to the conversation. Angèle now had Andras in her arms, and Terzo was pulling out a chair for her to sit next to him. Secondo and Primo were already seated, and you quickly made your way to sit beside Angèle, hanging Andra's bag on the chair.

"He's somewhere around, we haven't seen him since we got here," Secondo replied.

You listened attentively, feeling a bit disappointed. Would you not have the chance to meet Copia tonight? Was he not going to attend the Halloween ball? You consoled yourself with the thought that you would likely encounter him during your stay at the ministry.

Suddenly, someone approached you from the side, and you let out a loud scream of horror, causing Andras to start crying. The person was covered with a white sheet, and your eyes widened in terror as you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

The person quickly removed the sheet, revealing Copia beneath it. "Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!"

Angèle got up from her seat with Andras still crying in her arms. You got up and rushed over to Angèle, who was trying to soothe the upset little one in her arms. You rushed to Andras' bag, located on your chair, and quickly retrieved his favorite plushie. Returning to Angèle, you presented it to Andras, attempting to comfort him, but it appeared to have little effect on his persistent crying.

Copia expressed his apologies, feeling genuinely remorseful for causing the commotion. "What have I done?" he said, addressing his brothers and Angèle.

"It's totally okay, it wasn't your fault," you reassured him, taking Andras into your arms.

"Terzo, please, give me his pacifier. It's in your blazer's pocket," Angèle requested.

Terzo promptly got up and retrieved the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Angèle. She gently placed the pacifier in Andras' mouth, successfully calming him down. She then took him back into her arms, also reaching for Andra's bag, hanging on your chair.

"I'm going to step outside with him for a bit," Angèle announced. "I'll be right back."

As Angèle left the room with Andras, you took a deep breath, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden scare. A hand on your back sent shivers down your spine, and you turned to see Copia standing beside you. You turned your face to find Copia standing there, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. He was even more striking in person, and you couldn't help but admire his presence. His voice was as charming as his appearance, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his concern evident in his voice.

In silence, you nodded, unable to find your voice as you continued to gaze at his captivating features. A smile graced his lips, and his hand gently squeezed your arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Bene, molto bene," he said, withdrawing his hand from your arm.

Copia offered a gentle smile, causing your cheeks to flush. He approached the table and pulled out your chair, signaling for you to sit down. You walked over to your chair and gracefully took your seat. Copia joined you, sitting right beside you, while Secondo audibly sighed and shook his head in response to the earlier playful banter.

"Secondo, non cominciare neanche," Primo warned him.

"Non stavo per dire niente," Secondo replied with a faint smirk.

Copia offered his sincere apologies. "Mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to scare the signora, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten my own nipote."

"It's okay; it was my fault. I wasn't expecting it," you reassured him in a gentle tone.

Terzo chimed in with a bit of humor, "Please don't kill our nanny. She's the only one who's stayed with us. You have no idea how hard it is to find a nanny when you tell them about being a retired satanic Papa."

Copia turned his body toward you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Again, mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to... you know... kill you."

You chuckled nervously. "I hope... not?"

"No, I didn't mean to say it that way," he stammered. "I- I mean, I meant that I didn't want to scare you with my costume to the point where you'd... well, you know."

"Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello," Secondo chimed in.

Your hand went to Copia's on your shoulder, and you held it delicately as you looked at him. "Papa, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you don't want to, you know, kill me, even though you're a very scary ghost, right?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly. "Sì, sì, I'm a scary ghost! Be careful, bella... sorella!" he said, straightening his body and trying to sound scary.

You made a frightened face and playfully let go of his hand. "Please, Papa, have mercy on me. I'm just a..." you furrowed your brows. "What did you call me again?"

"Sorella," he repeated, clarifying, "It's how we call the sisters, nuns, just like you tonight, in Italian."

You nodded and resumed your scary expression. "Please, Papa, I'm just a sorella today. I'm innocent!" you said, your tone with a hint like if you were truly scared by him.

Copia chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to have mercy today and not go after you to haunt you, but only this time."

"Oh, don't worry, Papa. You can come after me if you want," you said, leaning back in your chair.

Copia gasped, blushing deeply, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm sorry, Papa. I meant that I'm not that scared, and I won't mind to be haunted, you see? I'm very... I have a lot of courage!"

Copia nodded, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, he retrieved the sheet from the table and draped it over himself once more, hiding his face behind it. A silence sank between you two, and you felt like all of the brothers were looking straight at you. You couldn't feel more embarrassed than you did now.

"So, where is your costume, fratello?" Terzo asked, breaking the silence, his eyes playfully scanning Copia.

Copia, draped in a simple white sheet, spread his arms wide. "Eh, this is my costume," he declared.

Terzo couldn't help but chuckle. "No, this is just a sheet from the laundry room, probably. Come on, you two have no Halloween spirit," Terzo teased. "Only Primo followed my suggestion."

Secondo, looking dapper in his suit, shook his head in mock disapproval. "Terzo, if I dressed as you asked me, you'd have two Uncle Festers for your son."

Terzo laughed. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Curious, you turned to Copia, who stood beside you. "And what did Terzo ask you to dress as?"

Copia grinned mischievously. "Cousin Itt."

Secondo couldn't contain his laughter. "Cousin Itt!? Oh, fratello, I take back everything I said about your costume choices."

Copia leaned closer to you and whispered, "Still, Secondo didn't wear the costume Terzo picked out for him, coglione."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes locking onto his as you both shared a playful moment. The proximity and the fact that you could only see his eyes under the sheet added an unexpected intimacy to the situation. Your cheeks were flushed, and you wished you had a sheet to hide behind as well, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his. However, your attention shifted as Angèle as you notices her returning to the table, though without Andras.

"Hello, what have I missed?" she inquired as she took her seat right next to Terzo, pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

"I due che stanno flirtando," Secondo chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

"Lasciali stare, Secondo," Primo interjected.

"Non stavamo flirtando!" Copia quickly defended himself.

"Sì, stavate flirtando con lei," Terzo said with a smirk on the corner of his lips. "Where's Andras, cara mia?" he asked.

"I put him to sleep; he's being watched by Dewdrop now," Angèle explained.

"Oh, miss, do you want me to go there?" you offered, preparing to get up.

"You don't have to, dear, only if you want," Angèle replied.

"I insist; it's my job," you said, rising from your seat.

"In that case, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, miss."

"Angèle," she corrected.

"Angèle," you repeated.

With that, you politely excused yourself from the table. Copia got up after you, gracefully removing the sheet from himself and placing it on the chair. He then turned his body to face you. His hair was a little messy, and you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the view, for some reason it was charming.

"Wait, may I go with you?" Copia asked. "I want to see my nepote, and I'm afraid you don't know where you are going to stay during the week."

You were taken aback by his gesture. "Oh, that's very... gentle of you," you said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his offer. "Thank you, Papa."

Copia extended his arm toward you, and you hesitated for a moment before deciding to take it. The two of you walked away from the table, making your way toward the door leading to the chambers. Side by side, you and Copia entered the corridor, leaving the lively Halloween party behind.

You took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne as you did. It was a refreshing and almost mythical fragrance that captivated your senses. You smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the experience. You didn't want to forget this scent; you wanted to keep it in your memory, as it made you feel even closer to him.

Turning your face to him, you noticed that his hair was still slightly messy. Hesitantly, you extended your hand, expecting him to react, but he remained still. Gently, you reached out and smoothed his hair, your touch light and delicate.

"Thank you for coming with me, Papa," you said, glancing up at him with a warm smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring.

"I do," you insisted, gently squeezing his arm. "After all, this is one of your first parties as a Papa here at the ministry, right?" you inquired, a soft smile on your lips as you withdrew your hand from his hair.

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, sì, sì."

"So you are the principal attraction of tonight, Papa!" you teased playfully, your tone filled with light-heartedness.

Copia chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Eh... I must confess this is all new for me."

"Really? Is it different from when you were a Cardinal?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his experience.

"Not too much when it comes to responsibilities," he explained, his gaze focused ahead as he considered your question. "They've just escalated a little more, but I still do many of the things I used to do before."

"But how do you feel about being a Papa now?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixed on Copia.

"Eh... Honestly?" Copia began, hesitating for a moment. "I'm happy with it, but can you keep a secret?"

A sense of intrigue filled you, and you nodded with a reassuring smile. "All the secrets you feel like telling me."

He blushed deeply before opening up further. "I'm very scared."

"Scared? How? Why?" Your curiosity deepened.

"I'm too afraid that they will not like me as much as they liked Terzo, Secondo and Primo" Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing.

"Copia, you can't compare yourself with your brothers," you said gently, trying to ease his worries. "And if I were you, I wouldn't worry at all. They will love you."

"Do you think so?" Copia asked, his uncertainty still lingering.

"Oh, I don't think they will, I know they will," you replied with a reassuring smile, emphasizing your confidence in him.

Copia halted his steps, his inquisitive gaze locked onto yours. "Eh, how can you be so sure?" he asked.

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for everyone, but from what I've gathered about you through my interactions and what Terzo has shared, you come across as a gentle, kind-hearted, and dedicated man. Terzo spoke highly of your love for this place and your unwavering commitment to reaching this position. If this is something you've wanted for a long time, Papa, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Embrace it, and you'll excel in your role at the ministry."

Copia found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by your kind and comforting presence. Your eyes locked into each other, creating an intimate silence in the corridor. The distant music from the ball could still be heard. Copia raised his arm slightly, as if contemplating a gesture, but then he lowered it and offered a soft, appreciative smile.

The intensity of your gaze made his cheeks flush with a deep shade of red. If he were still in his costume, he was sure he'd feel exposed, as the heat in his cheeks was almost unbearable. He was thankful that at least his face was still adorned with paint. Especially because your warm eyes were still locked onto his.

"Grazie," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't deserve your kind heart."

You returned his smile and offered a reassuring nod. "You'll do great, Papa. Just believe in yourself."

Your eyes remained locked again in a wordless connection for a brief yet meaningful moment before Copia resumed walking, with you following closely. You two kept walking with your arms entwined, the comfortable silence enveloping you both. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the rhythmic echoes of your footsteps and the distant melody of the music from the ball. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closeness and ease, and you tightened your grip on his arm, silently cherishing the moment.

"So, can I ask to know more about you?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you responded timidly. "What do you want to know, Papa?"

"How long have you been working for my brother?" he inquired.

You glanced at him. "I've been with him for some months now, almost a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "And are you enjoying it?" he asked.

With a smile, you responded, "I am! Your brother is a very nice man, his wife is really sweet, and little Andras is amazing."

"If you don't mind to answer..." Copia's curiosity didn't wane as he inquired further, "How do you feel about our little lifestyle?"

"The Satanism?" you asked, seeking clarification, and he nodded in confirmation. "I don't mind it at all. I see no harm; it all looks very cheerful and great."

Copia's expression revealed a hint of surprise. "You don't feel scared being here surrounded by our unholy place?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. The only thing that scared me here today was you."

He sighed, showing genuine remorse. "Eh, about that... I really didn't want to scare you, not at all."

"I know, Papa. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you were just in your costume."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding. "Sì, it was just a costume, after all. But I'm glad you're not afraid of our unique surroundings, or of me."

You smiled warmly. "Honestly, I find it all quite fascinating."

Copia chuckled. "Fascinating? That's not a word I hear often in this context."

"Well, it's different, and different can be interesting," you explained.

"Just like your attire tonight," he said. "You chose a very unique costume for tonight," Copia observed, his eyes sweeping up and down your nun costume.

You glanced down at your outfit and replied, "Did I?"

"Sì, our siblings here also wear habits in their daily lives, but it's just a little bit different from yours. But don't worry, you are looking very beautiful as a sorella."

"Thank you, Papa," you laughed shyly.

Copia's compliment made you blush, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by his words. As the two of you continued down the corridor, you found yourself becoming more comfortable in his presence, enjoying his charming demeanor.

"May I ask one more question?" Copia inquired.

"You can ask all the questions you want, Papa," you replied.

Copia's cheeks took on a subtle flush as he chuckled with a hint of shyness, and he nodded. "Well, I just wanted to know your name. Would you tell me your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit bashful. As you shared your name with him, Copia's lips curved into a broad smile. He nodded and repeated your name in a soft, charming tone. Hearing him say your name felt like the highlight of your night. It had a different, special quality when spoken in his accent, and it made you feel even closer to him.

As you continued to walk down the corridors of the ministry, Copia's steps began to slow, hinting that you were nearing your destination. Finally, you and Copia reached the door to your temporary residence. Copia took the lead, positioning himself in front of you. With a gentle knock on the door, you both waited for a few moments. The door eventually swung open, revealing Dewdrop.

"Good evening, Papa," Dewdrop said. "How can I help you?"

"I came here with Andras' nanny and she will stay here with him until his parents come back," he said.

Dewdrop raised an eyebrow and looked past Copia at you. "Andra's nanny, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh and replied, "Don't mock me, Dewdrop."

Dewdrop chuckled and said, "I'm not mocking!"

"You're free to return to your duties now," Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course, Papa," Dewdrop said.

Dewdrop stepped aside, granting you and Copia access to the place. Copia made his first step, entering the chambers. However, as you moved to enter, Dewdrop unexpectedly held your hand, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. Copia turned his attention to Dewdrop and you.

"How was at the ball?" Dewdrop inquired.

"It was..." you hesitated for a moment. "fun."

"Fun?" Dewdrop leaned in closer, a teasing tone in his voice. "Why don't I believe that your 'fun' is real?"

"Because you like to mock me," you replied, playfully pouting.

Dewdrop chuckled and let go of your hand. "I'm not mocking you right now. I was just wondering if you had fun. But maybe we should talk..." he turned his gaze to Copia before continuing, "...tomorrow."

Copia observed your interaction with Dewdrop closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. You took a step into the chambers, with Copia staring at you. As you exchanged a small smile, you turned your attention back to Dewdrop, who remained outside the door. Copia positioned himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Dewdrop once more.

"Grazie, Dewdrop. We'll take it from here," he said.

Dewdrop gave a polite nod and closed the door behind you. You and Copia were now alone in there. You took a moment to look around, and your eyes widened in amazement. The room was much larger and more lavish than you had anticipated. Intricately designed works of art adorned the walls, and the color scheme was meticulously coordinated, creating an elegant and inviting ambiance that took you by surprise. You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail that had gone into decorating the room.

"Did you like it?" Copia inquired, gesturing for you to follow him further into the room.

"It's bigger than I expected," you admitted, glancing around in awe.

"It's going to be mine," he explained.

"Yours?" you questioned.

"Sì, this place was supposed to be mine for now, as it's the Papal apartment. However, I don't need this much space at the moment, so I thought it was better to give it to Terzo and his family, while I stay in my old chambers."

"Are you sure, Papa? I mean..."

"I'm completely sure, don't worry. Besides, my room has everything I need – a bed, a TV, my video game, and even my lava lamp," he said with a playful grin, noticing your intrigued expression.

"Did you say a lava lamp?" you asked, clearly fascinated. "I haven't seen one for so long!"

Copia's grin widened as he saw your excitement. "Sì. I find the shifting colors and blobs of lava oddly soothing."

"They are very... hypnotizing for sure," you said.

He laughed softly. "Let me show you to your room," Copia smiled warmly. "Follow me, cuoricina."

You nodded appreciatively as he led the way to your designated room. He extended his hand to open the door for you, and you acknowledged his gesture with another nod before stepping inside. As you entered the room, your eyes widened in astonishment. The room was decorated in warm, neutral colors, with a comfortable-looking bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Copia gestured towards the room. "This will be your room during your stay," he explained. "Please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

Eager to explore, you wandered around the room, but your curiosity drew you to the window. It was large and clear, and you pressed your hands against the cool glass, looking down at the vast garden below. Even in the darkness, the small lights scattered throughout the garden made it appear enchanting. As you gazed, a slight shiver ran down your spine, and your body tensed a bit as you felt Copia's warm hand on your lower back, his touch gentle and comforting.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his fingers gently rubbing your lower back.

As you turned your face towards him, your eyes met his. Copia's face was softly illuminated by the ambient light from outside the window, accentuating his handsome features. The moment felt like it stretched on for eternity, and you wished you could freeze time to continue gazing at him, to savor his touch a little longer. However, you couldn't just stand there in silence, no matter how much you wanted to.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "I loved it."

"I think this room has the best view of them all," he whispered, his eyes fixed on you.

"I think you're right, Papa," you whispered back.

Copia withdrew his hand from your back and concealed both of his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to the garden, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. But you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. For someone associated with a satanic church, he appeared ethereal and bathed in an inexplicable grace, as if touched by a blessing rather than something sinful.

"So you are friend with Dewdrop?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, well, I suppose we're friends of sorts," you replied. "He sometimes visits Terzo's house with ministry-related items.

"Eh! That's right," he nodded. "That makes sense."

You giggled, turning your body to face him. "He told me that he's one of the older ghouls here, and that's quite fascinating, to be honest."

"Fascinating?" he inquired.

"Yes, it's intriguing," you explained. "First, because he's been here for such a long time, and second, because he's also a Ghoul. I have no real understanding of what Ghouls are, but I have my theories."

Copia moved closer to you. "So, you find ghouls fascinating?"

"Yes, I do," you said with genuine curiosity. "I've always wondered where they come from."

Copia hesitated and then said, "I'm afraid I can't reveal that. It's a secret of the ministry."

You pouted and pleaded, "Really, Papa? You won't tell me?"

Copia couldn't resist your charm. He grinned playfully. "Well, alright. You see, when a Ghoul and a Ghoulette love each other..."

You burst into laughter, cutting him off. "Stop it! That's not how it happens!"

Copia chuckled at your reaction. "You're right, that's not how it happens, but I couldn't resist."

You playfully rolled your eyes, followed by a smile. "You're really not going to tell me, right?"

Copia shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could, trust me, but I can't."

"It's okay, Papa," you whispered, drawing nearer to him.

"Shall we head back to the party?" he suggested, his hand reaching for your hand.

"Uh... I can't, Papa. I need to stay here with Andras," you responded.

"Right! I completely forgot," he sighed. "I'm a lousy uncle."

"No, Papa, you're not," you reassured him. "I know you're an amazing uncle."

Copia's gaze remained locked with yours, and a brief silence hung in the air. He moved to say something, but just as he began to speak, the sound of Andras crying echoed from the room next door. Without hesitation, you swiftly exited the room and hurried into the adjacent one. There, you opened the door and approached the small crib. With gentle hands, you lifted Andras into your arms, comforting him as he cried.

With Andras in your arms, you gradually managed to calm him down, and his cries gradually transformed into soft, whimpering sounds. Copia watched the scene unfold from the doorway, his smile reflecting his appreciation for your comforting skills. It was a heartwarming moment as you continued to soothe the little one, both of you providing him with the care and attention he needed.

"Is he all right?" Copia asked as he walked over to you.

You turned to him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, he just needed a little attention. Babies can be quite sensitive, but they usually calm down with some care and comfort."

Copia nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Andras as he gently caressed the his head. "You're really good with him."

"I guess so," you replied, still holding Andras. "Are you awake to see your zio Copia?"

"Zio? Do you speak Italian?"

"Oh, not at all," you chuckled, gently rocking Andras. "But Terzo always talks about you three as his zio, so I just got used to it."

Copia chuckled at your response. "That's quite observant of you. Impressive."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a hint of pride.

Copia then extended his arms toward Andras. "So, before I go back to the party, can I hold my nepote a little bit?"

"Of course," you replied, gently passing Andras into Copia's waiting arms.

Copia's face lit up with a warm smile as he cradled Andras in his arms. The baby looked small and fragile in comparison to the tall and imposing figure of Copia, but there was a gentle tenderness in the way he held him. Copia's eyes were fixated on Andras, who gazed up at him with curious eyes. It was a heartwarming sight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you watched the two of them together.

"You look well with him in your arms," you remarked, your gaze fixed on the bonding pair.

"Do I?" Copia giggled softly. "I always heard I had a way with kids."

"I think you do too," you said with sincerity, a smile gracing your lips.

As you took a step closer to Copia and Andras, you gently reached for the baby's hand, feeling his tiny fingers wrap around one of yours. Copia's eyes met yours, and there was an unspoken connection between you two. You both shared a smile, and in that moment, you realized that Copia's presence was even more captivating in person than in any photograph. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his smile were something that couldn't be fully captured in pictures. You found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth and kindness in Copia's eyes.

However, the tender moment between you and Copia was suddenly interrupted by Andras's cries, breaking the connection you shared. Copia gently rocked the baby in his arms, trying to soothe him, while you reached out to touch Andras's tiny cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. Andras's cries filled the room, making it clear that he needed attention and care. Copia looked at you with a slightly apologetic smile as he continued his attempts to calm the baby.

"It seems like Andras prefers your company," Copia remarked, his voice filled with warmth as he tried to ease the baby's distress.

With that, Copia carefully handed Andras back to you, allowing you to resume your soothing efforts. You gently cradled Andras, who had started to show signs of drowsiness. You carefully walked over to the crib, and with a tender touch, you placed him back in it. Andras seemed to settle down once again, his eyelids growing heavier as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Copia watched the scene with a soft smile. "Grazie for taking care of m- him," he said, his tone a little nervous.

You turned to him with a warm smile. "It's my pleasure, Papa. And also, my job."

Copia nodded, leaning closer to the crib to admire his sleeping nephew. His fingers gently brushed over Andras's tiny hand, and a warm smile played on his lips. "I should head back to the party. But can I walk you to your chambers?"

"Papa, I'm already here, my room is right next door," you chuckled, stepping closer to him.

"Eh! Sì, sì, my silly mistake, sì?" He chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Papa!" you teased, playfully patting his arm. "Maybe my outfit is causing the confusion."

You reached for the veil of your nun costume, fingers deftly untangling the knot that held it in place. As you removed the costume piece, Copia's gaze briefly fell upon you, but he quickly averted his eyes, fixating on some unseen point in the room.

"Better now?" you asked.

Copia turned his gaze back to you, his eyes tracing your figure from head to toe. He took a deep breath and nodded. There was a hint of a word that he seemed to hold back. You giggled and decided to distract yourself by tucking Andras into his crib. After turning off a nearby lamp, you walked back towards Copia, stopping in front of him.

"Maybe I can walk you to the front door?" you offered, reaching for his shirt and adjusting it neatly around his neck.

Copia looked at your hand and then nodded thoughtfully. You both left Andras's room, quietly closing the door behind you. Walking together down the corridor, your footsteps produced a faint echo on the polished floors. Approaching the front door, you hesitated for a moment. You stopped in front of it and your hand hovered over the doorknob. You glanced at Copia, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared at you.

"Thank you again for accompanying me, Papa," you expressed, your voice sincere and appreciative.

Copia blinked as if snapping out of a reverie, his attention returning to you. "Oh, mi dispiace," he responded, his voice gentle. "I was momentarily lost in thought. You were saying?"

"I was thanking you," you reiterated, a faint smile on your lips. "For coming with me and for letting us stay in your Papal apartment."

Copia offered you a warm smile in return. "You're most welcome. It was a pleasure to be of assistance. I hope you and Andras have a pleasant night."

With that, Copia stepped through the open door into the corridor, and you leaned against the doorframe, your eyes fixed on his retreating figure. Copia turned his body back to you and paused for a moment, contemplating something. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for yours, holding it.

"I hope you find your room comfortable. If there's anything you need or any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the Ghouls. We're here to make your time at the ministry enjoyable If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask," he said with a reassuring tone. "And remember, you can always reach me."

Copia brought your hand closer to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. You nodded, blushing deeply at his words, and bit your lower lip, trying to contain your emotions. Taking a deep breath, you offered him a warm smile. As he released your hand, his lips lightly brushed against your skin, and you felt his grip tighten. Your breath caught in your throat, but you fought to maintain your composure.

“Of course, Papa. Have a great time at the party, and don’t scare anyone else with your costume," you playfully remarked.

Copia chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Arrivederci, bella sorella.”

“Arrivederci, Papa,” you replied as he turned to leave, heading back to the Halloween party.

Copia came to a sudden halt, turning his head to look back at you over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned and strolled down the corridor. As he gradually disappeared from your sight, you closed the door gently. Leaning against the door, you took a deep breath, your eyes closed, and you bit your lower lip slightly. There was no doubt about it – Copia was even more captivating in person than in the photos.

Grammar

Ho tentato: I tried

Fratello: Brother

Sì: Yes

Signora: Lady

Il piacere è tutto mio: The pleasure is all mine

Hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso: You have the spirit of Halloween! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!

Cretino: Idiot

Bella signora: Beautiful lady

Piccolo demone: Little demon

Ciao piccolo: Hello, little one

Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone: Your favorite uncle missed you, my little demon

Zio preferito: Favorite uncle

Bambino: Child

Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!: Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Non cominciare neanche: Don't even start

Non stavo per dire niente: I wasn't going to say anything

Mi dispiace profondamente: I'm deeply sorry

Nepote: Nephew

Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello: Maybe it would be best if you stop trying to justify yourself, brother

Coglione: Idiot

I due che stanno flirtando: The two of them flirting

Lasciali stare: Leave them alone

Non stavamo flirtando!: We weren't flirting!

Sì, stavate flirtando con lei: Yes, you were flirting with her

Cara mia: My dear

Grazie: Thank you

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Taglist: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @enchantedbunny @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @da-rulahh @th4t-em0-k1d @citrusbunnies @copias-sewer-rat @reeeebeeee @ghostfangirlsweden @copiaspet6222 @lilylovesdew @quaildoodle @fluffysourpatch @terzossoapbar @x1nd1g0x @fantasticdeercollection

211 notes · View notes

serene-sun · 1 year

Text

𝖇𝖊𝖑 𝖛𝖎𝖘𝖔

Sexual theme warning

Terzo flirting with you, loving you, and in a happy relationship with you. He never fails to put the papal paint on, although you wish you could see his beauty, Terzo simply won’t wipe away the white and black. But now, when things go further than a smooch and a few ass grabs, your destined to see it now! That’s what you thought, but the man touching it up before sex and wanting to again after it! What were you supposed to do?!

“I’m not going to argue, so I’m saying this straight forward. Why won’t you let me see your face without paint?” You ask, arms crossed and pasture stiff against the leather chair across his mahogany desk.

Terzo looks at you, surprised and curious.

“Well apparently I’m ugly, at-least according to every girl who has seen me.” Papa says, not sad or upset, just honest and genuine.

“You? Ugly? Have you looked in the mirror?” You scoff in disbelief.

“Makeup does allot you know.” Papa stands from his desk, stretching his back with a groan.

“But if someone truly loved you, they wouldn’t care what you look like. Beauty isn’t defined by popularity, neither is your love decided by fake fan girls!” You get on to the man, pouring two glasses of wine.

Sliding a still chalice, he says, “oh don’t worry I’m not insecure.” Papa replies, “tutti sanno che sono umile!” Slipping under his smirk.

“Well I want to see it! This handsome face that hides.” You whisper into his left ear, falling out from his lips as a gentle huff.

“Well then amore…the only way to reveal my handsome complexion is by messing it up.” Papa smirks, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. “Hell knows I would give armies for you.”

#serene sun nocontext #serene sun writes #the band ghost #serene sun spice time #ghost band #the band ghost x reader #papa x reader #papa emeritus iii #terzo emeritus #terzo x reader #Terzo x reader smut #the band ghost smut

28 notes · View notes

ghulehunknown · 6 months

Text

Papa Headcanons! 💋🫂

Day 13 of KINKTOBER is here! 🎃

**RATED PG-13, borderline NSFW**

My headcanons of making out and cuddling with the Papas

Primo

Talks very sweetly; lots of cute but old-fashioned pet names

Lets you rest your head on his chest

Doesn’t use tongue unless you initiate

Big spoon, holds you gently

Serene for the most part, but abruptly interrupted by his coughing fits ):

Always falls asleep before you, usually mid-kiss or mid-cuddle

Secondo

Holds your head very firmly in his hands while kissing you

Slips in tongue

Plants kisses on your neck

Takes control but wants to be on the bottom while cuddling so you’re laying on his chest otherwise he’s big spoon

Holds you protectively, rubs your back soothingly and runs his hands through your hair

Gives massages

Terzo

Sticks his tongue down your throat and goes straight to your pants but complies when you ask just for kisses and cuddles

Presses his body against yours

You can always feel his erection through his pants, purposefully on his part

Kisses like he hasn’t seen you in years

His phone keeps going off

He doesn’t care if he’s big or little spoon

Leaves hickeys and bite marks

Cardinal Copia

Nervous and sweaty

His mustache tickles your face

You can always feel his erection through his pants, accidentally on his part

Usually one of his rats will crawl on you if you stay still too long while cuddling

Wraps all his limbs around you while snuggling as if he’s afraid you’ll fall off the bed or escape

Likes to be little spoon

Popia

Starts with a sweet little peck on your cheek

Usually ends with his hands around your waist and feeling you up, but it’s a slow build up to that

Holds your chin in his hand and kisses your nose

Tells you what his every next move is so you know what to expect

Tells you about his day/asks you about yours

Adjusts his position if he senses you are uncomfy or smushed

Nihil (for shits and giggles)

Sneezes and sharts himself

You run away because it smells

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

665 notes · View notes

portaltothevoid · 6 months

Text

Between Breaths (An XXX Perspective) - Terzo x Reader

Summary: You're the Head Witch at the Ministry. Arguably at times you hold more power than the current Papa, Papa Emeritus III. You've always hated him and you assumed the feeling was mutual. But what happens when he calls you out on it?

song: between breaths (an xx perspective) by blaqk audio

A/N: had an idea that was encouraged by @copias-juicebox, @fishwithtitz, and @da-rulah. you can thank them or blame them for this. idk i guess i have terzo brainrot. enjoy the absolute filth that is this one shot. (pictures for the mood board all found on pinterest)

word count: 6.5k

warnings: MDNI. enemies to lovers, angst, female reader, hate sex, semi-public sex, library sex, oral m-receiving & f-receiving, face fucking, deepthroating, dom!terzo, brat!reader, edging, fingering, squirting, p in v, face slapping, unprotected sex, cream pie, using a belt as a makeshift whip, choking, lots of bickering banter before the smut, not really proofread, self-translated italian

Being the Head Witch of the Satanic Church definitely had its perks. For example, you could go in and out of the restricted section of the library as you pleased without having to provide any explanation as to why you needed a certain book, your living quarters rivaled that of the highest clergy members, and you were the one calling the shots with anything related to magic, be it a conjuring or a protection spell, a cord cutting. Sometimes your power within the Ministry rivaled that of Papa, the Anti-Pope, much to his chagrin, of course.

Brothers and Sisters of Sin alike flocked to you, not only for your expertise, but because you were drop dead gorgeous, charismatic, feisty, and because you had power. With your office being directly across from Papa’s, you would often catch him glaring at you from his desk as the door to your office might have been a revolving one with how many people were in and out of it. And especially during major holidays, did the Children of the Ministry come knocking at your door. It sometimes seemed like they had forgotten about their darling Papa Emeritus III. They only had eyes for you. That drove him crazy and thus, your rivalry was born.

Despite seeming to have it all, it grew tiring to be constantly surrounded by so many people. Having company at night was great and all, but the connections were vapid. You had no choice but to keep any and all suitors at arm’s length; it was safer that way, both for you and for them. Your work was demanding and that would always come first. There was an aching loneliness that gnawed at you, but you refused to acknowledge it. Relationships, true connection, only got in the way. You weren’t the youngest Head Witch the church had ever seen, barely even in your thirties, because you spent time curating intimate and genuine relationships in the hopes of one day starting a family. You had ambitions, goals, and nothing would get in the way of that.

This led to quite the paradox: you were surrounded by people, loved and excelled at your job, and even craved solitude, but the loneliness that clawed at your heart could be suffocating.

Tonight was one of those paradoxical nights where you wanted nothing more than to be alone, but you wished there was someone you could be alone with – no expectations, no ulterior motives, just the mere act of coexisting with someone who had chosen you and you had chosen them. Often, you would find yourself in the library on nights like this. People would be too engrossed in their own studies to pay you any mind. Or you would just stay in the restricted section, knowing very few people had access to it.

It was quiet enough that you found yourself just outside the off-limits occult books. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, perhaps you’d know when you found it.

Too lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the last person you wanted to see walking towards you until it was too late to make a swift getaway. “Buona sera, cara mia (my dear),” greeted the illustrious Papa as he leaned his back against the bookshelf, an arrogant smirk on his face.

You set your book on the shelf in front of you as your head tilted back with an exasperated sigh escaping you. “What do you want, Terzo? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

He put a gloved hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “I am offended.”

“Clearly not enough to leave me alone.”

“Ah, you see, that I cannot do, because I’m looking for something, a book actually, and I just so happened to see you, and perhaps you could find it in your cold, black heart to help me.”

It was your turn to gasp dramatically as you slowly turned to face him. “You can read?!”

Terzo rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Will you help me or not?” he asked curtly.

“Sure! The children’s section is downstairs, to the left, all the way to the back. You can’t miss it.”

“I didn’t rise to Papa with the reading level of a toddler,” he retorted with an edge to his voice.

“You’re right, my mistake. It must have been the nepotism.”

He let out a frustrated puff as he pushed himself away from the bookshelf and started to walk away. Your quiet chuckle was loud enough so that he turned on his heel and walked right back up to you. “I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”

“Because you’re a pompous figurehead with a constant need for attention who’s had nearly everything handed to him and the fact your dick sees more traffic than the 405 on a Friday night during rush hour.” You spoke with an air of nonchalance like you were just spouting off a common factoid as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. The bookshelves now against your back.

His eyes turned to slits. “Who am I to turn down those that hand themselves to me willingly? And don’t act like your body count isn’t as high as mine. If anything, I’d bet it’s higher judging from how many people I see – and hear – coming and going from your office,” he spat.

“Well, at least the lives of the people I fuck actually improve afterwards when the spells come to fruition. They aren’t just fucking me for clout and just to say they did only to find out you’ve already moved on to your next conquest.” Your upper lip started to curl upwards into a sneer, but you did your best to control it. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you.

“Oh, spare me the righteous act, dolcezza.”

“It’s not a ‘righteous act’ to make my intentions clear to my partners. Maybe you should try that out sometime. Sure would save me a lot of work.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, glaring at you as he took a step towards you.

“It means that your escapades upset enough people that they come to me to seek retribution. Against you. You have no idea how much thankless damage control I have to do for your pathetic ass.”

Clearly, that jab had the opposite effect you intended. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes as he took another half step closer to you. “Are you implying you… protect me?” he asked slyly.

“Don’t fucking flatter yourself. I’m implying that I’m doing what I have to to keep Sister Imperator off my back.”

“But that is still protecting me from hexes and curses cast by the ones who let their feelings cloud the reality of the situation. And for the record, cara…” With another step forward he placed his hand on the shelf next to your shoulder, leaning in, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I make my intentions very clear.” You refused to acknowledge the way that made your stomach flip and your heart rate picked up speed.

You tried to take a step away from him, but were only met with shelves digging into your back. The crease in your forehead deepened as you clenched your jaw. It wasn’t until you saw his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips did your arms uncross from your chest as you pushed him to the side. “You’re an insufferable rompicoglioni (pain in the ass), you know that?” After turning your back on him, you only managed to get a few steps away before his next question stopped you in your tracks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it…”

You tilted your head to the ceiling, your eyes shut, as you let out a deep breath. “Thought about what?” you asked through your still gritted teeth. He stayed silent. You shook your head and turned around to face him again. “Thought. About. What?” you practically growled your repeated question.

He stood there, leaning against the bookshelves, with his bottom lip seductively in between his teeth as he raised his eyebrows at you. “Do I really need to answer that question?” he chuckled.

“I can’t fucking stand you,” you said as you turned to leave his stupid, smirking face behind you. Again, you didn’t get very far when you felt a gloved hand grab your wrist, his grip just tight enough to halt you and turn you to face him.

“Have you ever thought why that is, streghetta mia (my little witch)?” he cooed, bringing his other hand to gently caress your cheek.

“I am not your little—” you began defiantly until he interrupted you. His words suddenly became harsher, much more serious.

“Rispondimi (answer me),” he demanded, his grip tightening on your wrist. His hand on your cheek went from a feather light touch, to forcefully grabbing the side of your neck, aiding in the way he pulled you to him so that almost no space remained between you.

“I already told you why,” you said through your teeth. Your whole body tensed being this close to him. If it was a losing battle, you desperately tried to fight the lost cause of keeping your composure. His deliciously delicate Italian cologne didn’t affect you. The heat from his body didn’t affect you. How roughly he handled you definitely didn’t affect you.

“No. I don’t think you did, because I don’t think you can admit the truth.” The intensity of his stare burned into you (but it absolutely did not affect you). He pulled you into the crook of his neck. Biting the inside of your cheek was the only way you could ground yourself, focus on the task at hand — not letting him win. He was so close to you that you could feel his lips moving against your ear as he murmured, “Everything you hate about me… is what you hate about yourself, amore.”

You lost sight of him; all you could see was red. Twisting your wrist, you broke free from his grasp. Your hands flew up to his chest as you shoved him back. He stumbled slightly, bracing himself on the bookshelves. The amused half-smile on his face told you everything you needed to know: he was loving every second of this. “Seems I’ve struck a nerve, hm?”

“You fucking asshole! I am nothing like you.” The venom clinged to your words.

“You’re not? You don’t enjoy the company of others under the guise of tending to the flock when all you crave is real connection? You don’t flaunt your ‘power’ to make up for every inadequacy you feel about yourself?” He sauntered up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as if the slightest movement would shatter you.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” you mumbled through barely parted lips.

“How long are you going to keep telling yourself that, hm?” he purred, hooking his finger under your chin, which you pushed away. You tried to back away from him, but yet again, you were stopped by the bookshelf.

“If you’re so self aware, then why do you still act like a piece of shit?”

He leaned forward, putting a hand on either side of you, caging you in. “Because, streghetta, the only connection worth pursuing thinks I’m a pompous pain in the ass fucking asshole piece of shit figurehead with the reading ability of a four year old. Did I remember everything?” he smirked.

His mismatched eyes burned into yours. His white iris seemed to be almost glowing in the dim library light. The heat that was starting to burn in your center made you stay put. Your only movement came from your head quickly turning to the side as you heaved an insolent breath. Breaking eye contact was the only thing you could think of doing right now, but even that was short lived. He emphatically grabbed your face, silently ordering you to look at him, your cheeks smushing together between his thumb and index fingers. “I asked you a question. Stop being a brat and rispondimi,” he hissed.

“Kinda hard with my jaw in your hand,” you managed to mutter.

“I understood you just fine.” He pressed harder into your face. The longer you were silent, the more pressure he added.

“F-fine! Yes! That’s what I think of you, stronzo,” you spat.

“Brava ragazza. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” he praised softly. The back of his fingers returned to graze your cheek.

You couldn’t help but press your lips into a thin line as you mulled over when he said “...the only connection worth pursuing…”

“Thinking about what I said?” His hand slid down your neck to your collarbone.

“No,” you replied immediately. Your eyes quickly flitted up to the ceiling at how easily you gave yourself away, which earned you a light, airy laugh. “Wait. Yeah. If this is the ‘only connection worth pursuing’ then what’s taken you so long? Did you have to test out all the others to make sure it was the right choice?”

“You’re too busy scowling at me to notice me noticing you.”

“No, not quite. Try again.”

“This is one of the very few times I’ve been able to catch you alone.”

“Oh, please. Your office is directly across from mine. And I have seen you on multiple occasions staring at me when your door is open,” you scoffed.

“And every time, before I can even think about getting up from my chair, you slam the door shut,” he countered, twirling a lock of your hair between his fingers.

Swatting his hand away, you said, “Still not the real answer.”

“Then what is?” He let his hand fall to your shoulder and slowly began to cascade down your arm.

“You don’t think you’re good enough for someone like me.” With a challenging tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows, you watched as astounded annoyance clouded his eyes. “Yeah, two can play this game.” You straightened out the collar to his shirt and trailed your fingers down to adjust the top buttons with your eyes focused on your small task. They only looked back into his eyes when you mockingly added, “Caro.”

Finally, you struck a nerve. He took both your wrists and pinned them down beside you. “Before tonight’s over, I’ll show you I’m more than good enough for you.”

You tossed your head back as you laughed, craning your neck to watch his reaction. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’ve seen the way your conquests look when they leave your office. It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re a good fuck. It does, however, take a certain kind of person to notice how you never seem completely satisfied… like something’s missing…”

Pressing his body flush against yours, he leaned down and whispered, “Like I said earlier, amore, it’s the craving for real connection, which of course, you of all people would notice something like that.” You could feel the warmth of his breath dancing over a sensitive spot on your neck. “Because… you’re just… like… me…” he added breathlessly as he dragged his lips along your neck before he pulled himself away to stare into your eyes.

The desire pooling between your legs was inescapable. Your eyes darted from his to his lips before returning to the mismatched eyes that watched your every subtle movement. That was all the invitation he needed before he released your wrists to take your face in his hands as your lips crashed together. Just because you lost the battle didn’t mean you couldn’t win the war.

Your hand flew to the nape of his neck where you threaded your fingers in his hair. He moaned into your mouth when you started pulling. Your other hand balled the fabric of his shirt at his hip into your fist.

He broke the kiss only to leave a sloppy trail of kisses down our neck where he began to suck and nip at it. You let your head fall back and your grip in his hair tighten. He maneuvered himself so he was pressing his thigh between your legs and without a second thought, as a breathless moan escaped your lips, you began to rut against him. “I still… fucking hate you…” you panted.

Before he could make his clever retort, your heads turned towards the sound of the door opening. You could hear the light sound click-clacking of heels on the floor below. Terzo couldn’t even get his suggestion out before you pushed him off you, taking his hands in yours and leading him deeper into the library. He eyed you curiously, an impish grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

When the sounds of the other patrons faded, you slammed back against a random stack and pulled him against you, assuming your previous formation. “Are you sure you want to do this here?” he asked in between open mouthed kisses on your neck.

“I wouldn’t have dragged you over here if I wasn’t.”

His gaze lingered over you as if to double check you were telling the truth. He nodded once. “Bene. Safe word?”

“Rigatoni.” He tilted his head at you, a quizzical look on his face. “What? Do you prefer ziti?”

“No, just an… interesting choice.”

“Non verbal is two taps and a pinch, but first,” you said as you held his wrist one hand and started taking off one of his gloves in the other, “the Mickey Mouse gloves are coming off.” His eyes narrowed into slits as he let you remove his gloves, placing them in his back pocket. You gave his ass a hard slap when you were done, leaning back on the stack behind you, with an exaggerated and triumphant smile on your face.

Taking your face in his now bare hand, he held it like he did just moments ago. He put his other hand beside your head, pressing his body into your and leaning forward, “I’m not going to hold back, streghetta.” He lowered his voice, making it sound husky and gravelly. He let go of you, roughly pushing your head to the side as he did so.

“Good. Don’t want you to,” you paused before you giggled, doing your best Mickey Mouse impersonation.

That earned you a smack across the face. It wouldn’t leave a mark, but you felt the sting go straight down to your core. You looked up at him with a daring smirk.

You could see the anger ice over his eyes. His features darkened. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You yanked him toward you, your fists grabbing his shirt as leverage as you purred in his ear, “Do your worst, papino.”

His hand wrapped around your bicep so tightly, you knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. He dragged you through the aisles of books to the study area. He let go of you only for a moment to turn you away from him as he pushed you down onto the table in front of you. Biting your lip, you pressed your thighs together, needing some semblance of relief.

Mismatched eyes watching you like a hawk, of course he noticed. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. You heard the faint clinking of a belt buckle and the slide of leather. Using his knee, he nudged your legs away from each other. “Brats like you don’t get anything until they’ve been properly punished.” You chewed on your lip as he folded his belt, allowing for him to have more control.

The brisk air hit the back of your legs as he lifted your maxi skirt up, exposing yourself to him. He put the belt in his mouth, freeing his hands, so he could yank your panties off you. Your ankle lifted off the ground, causing you to throw one of your hands to the edge of the table to save your balance. The belt went into his left hand, he placed it beside you as he leaned over you, pressing his still clothed erection into your bare ass. “Mmm, you say you hate me so much and yet here you are, already so fucking wet for me.” Not giving you any chance to make a smart ass comment, he shoved your underwear into your mouth.

Pushing off of you, he caressed your ass like he was mapping out where the belt would strike you. He went from the left corner down to the right, being mindful enough not to even graze your cunt, giving no reprieve whatsoever. Then he repeated the motion going from the right corner down to the left.

Thwack!

Without warning, the belt made contact with your skin. Tears instantly sprang in your eyes, having been taken by surprise. The force of the blow made you cry out, but the sound was muffled; it just sounded like a poor excuse of a whimper.

“Still think you can handle this, streghetta mia?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed as you nodded – your tone still defiant.

Thwack!

You were actually thankful for the makeshift gag in your mouth, which gave you something to bite down on as you took the pain.

“If I had known–” thwack! “ –That this is what it took–” thwack! “ –to get you to shut your goddamn smart ass mouth up–” thwack! “ –I would have done this so much sooner.” Thwack!

He leaned over you again, this time pressing a kiss to your shoulder before asking if you were okay. Blinking tears away, you nodded. You were more than okay. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive.

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’m completely convinced…” he mused as he stood up. Just as you went to loosen the white knuckle grip you had on the table’s edge, you felt his thumb trail down from your taint, through your folds, and onto your clit, which he circled twice. You moaned loudly. “Mmm,” you could hear him sucking your arousal off his finger, “yes, you are doing quite alright.”

You practically squealed when suddenly one of his fingers slid right inside you. He wasted no time finding the spot that could make you scream. You whined when he removed himself from you, but it was only to flip you over onto your back. Without thinking, your leg hooked around his waist, anchoring him to you. He looked down at you, smirking, before he plunged his middle and ring fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled back with your head that rested on the table. Your back arched.

And then he began the assault of pressure; his fingers curled up, furiously tapping on your sweet spot. You swear you had never been this wet for anyone before. The noises coming from your cunt only made you clench harder around his fingers. His movements were so hard and so fast, you were almost being lifted off of the table. You were so close, so close. Despite the makeshift gag, you were screaming. Just as the coil in your core was about to snap, he was gone. Your eyes snapped open, wide with rage. Instantly you sat up. If looks could kill, he would have been dead at your feet.

“Stand up. Get on your knees.” For the first time tonight, you followed his instruction, but that was where your obedience ended.

“Figlio di puttana del cazzo (you fucking son of a bitch!)!” you snarled, looking up at him, after throwing the gag to the side.

Shaking his head, he gathered your hair into a ponytail, tugging your head back. You earned your second slap of the night. He undid and took off his pants, tossing them haphazardly to the side. You watched as his leaking cock sprung out. At the sight of it, your mouth immediately began to water. “If you can stop being a fucking brat and actually put your mouth to good use, then maybe you’ll get a reward,” he seethed. He shoved two of his fingers into the corners of your mouth. “Open.”

There was no getting used to him. In what felt like mere milliseconds, his length was down your throat. The only thing you could think of, for just a fraction of relief, was to open your jaw as wide as you possibly could, but even that wasn’t enough. He held your hair like he was holding on for dear life, deep growls rumbled from his chest. With every thrust you could feel whatever leftover animosity he had towards you pouring into you.

A near constant stream of tears cascaded down your face. You could barely see his smirk as you gagged around him. Abruptly, he stopped, pulling himself away from your mouth. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. “Get up,” he commanded as he pulled you up by your hair. He only let go when you were standing. “Back on the table. On your back.” You relished the break, taking your time to do as you were told. He stayed looking down at you, a lust-crazed look on his face. Expectantly, you looked back up at him, waiting for whatever he had planned next. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he slid you to him so your head was hanging off the table. “Apri (open),” he breathed.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you braced yourself for the second onslaught that never came. He slowly slid himself into your mouth, down your throat. You let the spit you saved from before getting on the table bubble up around him. This angle was a bit easier for you to take him. He used your ribs as leverage to thrust in and out of your mouth. A moan floated from his lips as his eyes closed, letting himself get lost in his own pleasure. You placed your hands on the back of his thighs. His lips curled over his teeth as he moaned again when you dug your nails into him. “Satanas, sei bella (you’re beautiful),” he murmured. Dragging his hands up, he wrapped them around your neck as he kept thrusting down into your mouth.

“Cazzo,” he groaned as he could feel himself in your throat. By this point, you said to hell with your gag reflex. It was easy to ignore while he incessantly fucked your face. He was slightly less aggressive with your neck bent over the edge of the table, his pace slower. As if savoring every inch of the feel of you, he pushed himself into you until your lips curled around his base. You couldn’t help, but moan. “Lucifer, fucking hell,” he growled. He repeated this a few more times before he backed away from you again, his breathing growing labored. You never took your eyes away from his as you spun around and got off the table.

Kneeling in front of him again, you looked up at him with your tear-stained face and doe eyes sparkling. You started stroking his length before you took him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. Then you licked down his shaft until you took his balls in your mouth, gently sucking on them. He groaned as his head fell back. After you licked back up his length, teasingly slow, and took him back in your mouth did you begin bobbing your head up and down. When you moaned again, his hands tangled in your hair again. This time it wasn’t to cause you pain, but to find purchase and ground himself. “Fuck,” he hissed. He was close. You could see it. You could feel it. So you took his hips in your hands, digging your nails into his flesh. Looking up at him, you subtly nodded to him. His fingers curled and pulled at your hair. He sloppily thrusted into your face again and soon you felt his hot seed spilling down the back of your throat as he cried out.

He slumped forward somewhat as his high waned. You stood up, making sure to catch his dichromatic gaze as you did. You wiped the corner of your mouth and swallowed every drop he had given you. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you feverishly. As you gripped his wrists, he pulled you to him, pushing you back toward the stacks of books behind you until they met your back. You eyed him hungrily as your hands reached for his shirt, your nimble fingers sliding down as you unbuttoned it. Not even bothering to shove it all the way off him, you let your hands explore his chest. The only thing you heard was each other's heaving panting. He was on your lips again the second you made eye contact with each other, his tongue diving down your throat, doing an exploration of its own.

You moaned as you hooked your leg up on his hip, pulling him even closer to you. Resting his forehead on yours, he held your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Time for a reward, sì? La mia brava ragazza (my good girl),” he cooed softly as he sank down on his knees.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he lifted up your skirt to dive under it. “Oh fuck,” you breathed as he dragged his nails up your thighs. Throwing your leg over his shoulder, he dove right in, his tongue lapping up your wetness seeping from your slit. You moaned again as his nose nudged your clit and his tongue dipped inside you. Your right hand grabbed at his hair under your skirt while your left was sliding up and around on the shelves behind you as you tried to find the best angle to help keep yourself propped up.

Taking his tongue out of you, he dragged it up to your bundle of nerves that were desperate for attention and started to suck on it as his tongue swirled around it. “Shit, s-shit!” you cried out. “Right… th-there. F-fuck. Fuck, Terzo. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

His ministrations stopped, but only to shove two of fingers inside you. You mewled loudly; it didn’t matter if anyone was nearby or not. They could enjoy the free show at this point. Just as he had before, he was hitting your g-spot as if this was the thousandth time. You were seeing stars, but what you wanted to see… was him. “W-wait, wait, stop!” you panted. You were so close, you couldn’t finish just yet. You tapped him twice and he stopped before you could pinch him. He rushed out from your skirt, a confused look on his face that glistened from your arousal.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said as you discarded your skirt. “I want to watch. I want to watch you make me cum,” you said lustfully as you perched your leg back onto his shoulder. Your hand threaded into his hair, holding on tightly as he resumed where he had left off. This time, his pace returned to that of the first time he had you like this. You bucked into his face, adding even more friction. “Holy fuck, yes. Terzo, please, don’t stop. P-please. Fuck! There! Yes! I’m cumming! I’m–”

Removing his fingers from you, he aggressively rubbed your clit. You opened your eyes just in time to see him get showered with your juices as they streamed out of you. And that man lapped it up like it was his first drink of water after a hike in the desert. You sunk back into the stack behind you as he looked up at you through wet lashes. He looked like he got caught in the beginning of a downpour – and it was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Maybe you should fuck the people you hate more often if this was the result, because… this was still hatred you felt burning inside you. It had to be…

Afraid your shaky legs would give out on you if you tried to move, you stayed frozen in place. At some point your hand attached to Terzo was helping keep you upright on the shelving behind you. He stood up in front of you, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. When you were secure in his hold, his finger hooked under your chin, directing your hazy eyes to him. “Can you give me one more, amore?” he softly asked you. Eagerly, you nodded. He tilted his head, giving you a warning look. “Is la streghetta at a loss for words?”

“Yes,” you said, still nodding. “One more.”

“Va bene (okay), hard or easy?”

Your eyes darkened as more lust flared up in them again. “Don’t take it easy on me.” His lips curved up into a half smile that turned into a menacing smirk.

A sharp gasp fell from your lips as he spun you around so you were facing the books in front of you. One hand reached in front of you, circling the sensitive bud between your legs. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, while his other hand encapsulated your throat. “Do you still hate me?” he questioned through his teeth as his hips bucked up into you, using your ass to provide himself with the friction he needed.

“Yes,” you moaned wantonly.

You felt his breathy laugh on your ear as his grip tightened around your neck. The blood supply being cut off shot pangs of heat right down to your center just as he removed his hand from there. The whine you were about to make died in your throat as you felt him dragging his cock through your still sopping folds. With a squeeze to your throat, and a bite to your shoulder, he pushed himself inside you. You wanted to be so irritated at how perfectly he filled you up, how your walls stretched to accommodate him, but you couldn’t, at least not right now. Not when it felt so good. Most of all, there was no hiding it from him. Not when the pornographic sounds were spilling out of you. The war was lost way before it even began.

At first, his thrusts were slow. It was like he was committing how you felt around him to memory. You mewled when he hit that perfect sweet spot. And then came the attack.

With steady rhythm, he mercilessly pounded into you. Sounds of skin slapping skin, your unrelenting moans, the heaviness of both your breathing, filled the room. There was nothing else going on in the world, not in that moment. In that moment, there was just you. And there was just him. Coupled with the feeling of ecstasy. All you could do was claw at the shelves in front of you.

You felt the coil tightening again. With your head still back on his shoulder, you could feel your legs growing weak. His arm enclosed around you. His forearm pressing against your lower abdomen introduced a new sensation of pleasure that turned your vision white. Or maybe that just from the way his hand was still constricting around your throat. Probably both, but whatever the cause was, you didn’t care.

“A-aga– I– I’m–” was all you managed to say as you felt even more of your juices gush from between your legs. He bit down onto your shoulder again as he moaned wantonly with it. You could feel he was about to pull out of you, probably to release his spend on your face, but you managed to wrap your arm around his back, letting him know to stay in place.

With his erratic thrusts your arm fell. The overstimulation made it so the only words you could get out were “Inside. Cum inside.” As if on command, you could feel him emptying himself into you, filling you with his seed. After his hips stopped, you both stayed as you were. The hand on your throat slid down and across your waist as he held you there. He supported you as you put your weight back on him and your hands covered his.

Time stood still as you both caught your breath. Once your breathing returned to semi-normal, did he finally pull out of you. You sighed at the feeling of emptiness.

Hesitantly, you stepped forward. You felt shaky (in the best possible way), but you weren’t going to fall over. “Hold on, amore.” You heard him whisper as you folded your arms on the shelf in front of you and rested your head on them. You hummed in response, staying where you were. You closed your eyes, basking in the blissful peace that was settling over you.

Behind you, you could hear the rustling of his clothes and his footsteps as he walked back over to you. In your near boneless state, you didn’t even register the absolute mess that was dripping from you until you felt soft fabric between your legs. You looked down to see Terzo cleaning you up with one of his gloves.

“See? These Mickey Mouse gloves are good for something,” he teased.

You let out a genuine laugh. “Grazie,” you said tenderly.

“That’s as good as we can get for now,” he said once he finished, punctuating his sentence with a couple light pats on your ass.

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and shook your head as you turned to go put your skirt back on. He followed suit. As you were smoothing out your outfit, he was doing the last few buttons on his shirt. You surveyed the scene around you. “I kinda feel bad for the Ghoul that has to clean this up,” you giggled.

Terzo just smirked at you as he put his arm around your shoulders, guiding you both out of the library at a very leisurely pace. Wrapping your arm around his waist you said, “For the record, I still hate you.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Has anyone ever told you that you are very stubborn, principessa (princess)?”

“Nope, never,” you said with an exaggerated smile.

His light laughter was cut short when you both noticed someone grumbling with their head down as they headed towards you. "Buonasera, fratello. Little late for a library visit, no?”

Secondo looked up at the sound of his brother’s voice. You could see his eyes scanning over the two of you, taking in the disheveled sight. The annoyed look permanently etched on his face deepened. “I could say the same to the both of you.”

“I was minding my own business before this stronzo bothered me,” you said.

“Bothered is a funny way to put it, principessa,” Terzo grinned.

“Why are you here this late, Secondo?” you quickly asked in hopes of preventing Terzo from saying an offhand comment. The way one of Secondo’s eyebrows raised in suspicion wasn’t lost on you.

“An uncrossing spell. One of the Ghouls fucked up. Again,” he glowered. “And it’s falling to me to fix, since someone was unreachable.”

You tugged at Terzo to start walking again, too tired to deal with Secondo’s disgruntledness. “Of course, they did. Well, just, um, don’t go too far past the restricted section.” You and Terzo exchanged a look before picking up your pace. “Buonasera!” you added without looking behind you.

Secondo saw both yours and Terzo’s shoulders shaking with laughter. He just shocked his head as he continued getting the book he needed. “About fucking time…” he grumbled.

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #terzo #papa terzo #terzo emeritus #papa emeritus iii #terzo x reader #terzo x female reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo angst #terzo smut

174 notes · View notes