It Took Me Maybe A Week Or Two But I Wanted To Design Ghoul/Ghoulettes From This Current Era! Hope You

Hi can you pleaaaaassse do HCs about Copias corruption kink I’ll literally die

Have a little short nonny.

Who does Papa turn to for confession with all his predecessors dead?

Copia has to try hard to convince himself once in a while. He’s a good man. He’s an honest man, well, sure, there's a little white lie once in a while, but he’s never hurt anybody with it. He’s never stolen, and he’s worked hard to get where he is now. (Even though he’s almost certain his name was drawn from a hat.) He keeps everything tidy. He’s frank. He’s polite. He’s a good man.

But his eyes are on you.

You’re new to the sisterhood and still wet behind the ears, with your habit on proper and not a hair out of place. You’re bright, you’re shiny, you’re fresh. You have a soft voice, a shy smile, and despite being a Sister of Sin, you have innocent eyes. He always sees you working, helping someone with their tasks or chores, volunteering to do more. You’re wonderful with the children, compassionate with the ghouls, and come up with fun games for both of them. You’re full of energy, your kind, you have such a sweet smile and give it to everyone, including him, you light up like a festive float anytime you cross someone in the halls. You're just so…pure.

And he wants to see you absolutely destroyed. He wants to see your mascara running with tears down your flushed cheeks. He wants to see your lipstick smeared and your lips puffy and kiss swollen. He was to see your neck decorated with a choker of bruises. He wants to see your tits suckled with bite marks. He wants to see your pussy, puffy and gummed with his leaking cum. He wants to take this pure ray of sunshine and turn it into the dirtiest fucking poster whore he can. He wants to wreck you in every way possible. Stain you in such a way nobody else will want you.

He’s a good man. He swears.

But any time he gets alone in his office, he imagines you and his cock throbs. He imagines you in his office dressed in all manner of skimpy things. Sometimes, it's your habit. Sometimes, it's a cute little plaid skirt. But more often, it's something white. Whatever it is he's flipping up your dress to slide off your cute panties (polka-dot, soft little clouds, even kittens) and stuffing his face between your thighs until your legs are quivering and you can barely stand. He imagines fingering your tight cunt and curling his digits until you sob his name just right and licks his lips at the thought of getting you to squelch.

He wonders if you’ve ever sucked cock before. He wraps a hand around his dick as it jumps at the thought that he’d be your first. Your eyes wide in alarm as he reveals to you his thick fat member and guides your hands down to wrap around it and get a feel for just how large he is. He’s the thickest you’ve ever had.

He imagines you swallowing nervously and looking up at him with a hint of fear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” He promises. Oh don’t worry, he will. He’ll be gentle up until he manages to get half of it down your throat and then shoves in the other half without remorse. He’ll apologize. ‘An accident.’ He swears. But after that first gag and those first tracks of tears down your cheeks you’ll get the idea. You’ll try your hardest to get all of him down your throat, your pretty pink lips stretched around his cock and shiny with precum, spit, and your cherry chapstick.

He’d shower you with compliments and praise. You’d love it. He’ll help you discover your kink for it.

“Doing so good, taking me so well.” Your face would flush, and your thighs would rub together. You gag, you try your hardest to take him but your jaw hurts and he pulls you off gently by your chin and slaps your cheek with his wet, spit slick cock.

“Look at what you're doing to me. All that is for you. You're making me feel so good. Look how hard and wet I am for you." And you're wet and frustrated before he guides you to the bed and has you lay down. He pulls your legs apart and lines himself up.

Belial, you would be so tight, or perhaps it’s just been too long for you. Either way, you grip him like a vice and whimper when he stuffs you with his cock, he can feel your walls sucking him in and flexing around him as he pushes further and further into you and-

Copia grunts as the band in his lower stomach snaps and cum jets from his cock. He tightens his hand over his dick and squeezes before slowly gliding his fist over his shaft and milks himself of his release.

He sighs, slouching on his bed pillows, and lets his orgasm rumble through him. Then he reaches the nightstand and takes a few tissues, and cleans himself up.

This is always where the fantasy ends. He simply can’t help himself.

Satanas, what he would give for the real thing.

He's in the midst of cleaning up for the night when he hears a knock from his door and goes to answer only to finding you there with a flush on your face, that same flush he had been fantasizing about mere minutes ago. You're wearing a simple but thin tee-shirt with cartoon characters and a pair of shorts.

"Hello Papa...do you have a minute to talk?" And you're shifting your thighs just so, and he can't help but glance at your cleavage so obviously pronounced in your shirt. There, he sees a ruby red fabric with white circles, just barrly oeaking out from the low collar of your shirt.

Polka-dots.

And well...

...He does try very hard to be a good man.

Built to Fall

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Platonic relationships, techincally male reader but the gender doesn’t really matter, implied/referenced self-harm, no self harm actually occurs, referenced verbal abuse, mentions of alcoholism/substance abuse, family issues, emotional hurt/comfort, found family, crying, angst, fluff, soft secondo, cuddling, literal sleeping together, father/child relationships, bad italian translations, pet names, physical affection, no beta we die like nihil, etc. 

A/N: oops. i have issues. i keep forgetting to put this on tumblr. enjoy i guess lol 

WC: 3349

Keep reading

The Hunter’s Blood Moon

Prologue

I gripped the very edge of the stage, unable to wipe the beaming grin off my slightly-sweaty face, my chest heaving as the audience and I belted out the lyrics to ‘Cirice.’ Hearing sensitivity be damned, I would have gladly gone deaf if it meant I got the closest spot to the stage—the closest spot to him—as possible. I looked left to right, still no security guards to be seen, and yet nobody took the opportunity to climb onto the stage and join the performance, especially when he, Papa Emeritus III, was the lead vocalist. My heels bounced up and down with each boom of Pebble’s drums, the heavy shredding of Omega and Alpha on their respective guitars—it was still difficult to tell which Ghoul was which without their instruments—but my eyes stayed completely focused on the main lead himself.

I had no idea what the hell happened, but when Papa Emeritus II disappeared from Ghost and Papa III took over, it was like a switch just flipped on inside me. Seeing Secondo in his full Papa regalia? Awesome, and kind of funny considering his resemblance to a certain canine-named American singer; he’s nicknamed Mr. Worldwide for a reason. But seeing Terzo? With his raven-black hair, his classy black coat, and his white button-down? My heart had never fluttered so fast before, I had never squealed so loudly or flapped my hands so hard whenever photos and videos of him cropped up online or on the news, and even though I had wanted to see Ghost live since ninth grade, as soon as I graduated with my two-year film degree and got my first job at a local bookstore, my motivation cranked up to an eleven as soon as I found out that they—he—would play live in my town.

Terzo had just become my newest celebrity crush.

I didn’t give a single shit about any of the concert recordings I’d seen on YouTube anymore, nothing could have compared to hearing him in person. Whenever he held his microphone and sang, from ‘Year Zero’ to ‘Mummy Dust’—especially ‘Mummy Dust’; fuck, I’ll never get his raw sexual energy during that song out of my head—the sheer amount of confidence radiating from him had me falling head-over-heels, my heart beating so fast I thought I might pass out, my cheeks heating up so much to the point where I probably looked like a tomato or a seedless strawberry. And judging by the comments I’d seen other fans post on the Internet, I wasn’t the only one having a reaction like that.

Some very eager fans shoved past me and squealed right in my ear when Terzo swept past his boyfriend Omega, and the reason why clicked in my head as soon as the music drastically stopped, his voice lowered to a near-whisper, and his gorgeous mismatched eyes scanned the entire front row of the crowd. My eyes widened, and I couldn’t stop the short scream that tore from my throat, my right hand among others reaching past the edge of the stage as the audience either screamed for Papa or belted out the important lines for that part of the song.

A lucky fan was about to get Cirice’d.

My heart practically stopped as soon as Terzo’s gaze landed on the rabid fans around me, his lips curling into a devious smirk, making my cheeks burn and sending the women surrounding me into an absolute frenzy. The anxious lump immediately grew in my chest, my knees trembled, and my shyness kicked in as I slowly drew my hand away from the stage. There were already so many hands reaching for him, I didn’t think he would notice one missing. Terzo glanced at each frothing member of his congregation, strolling up and down; I’m pretty sure some ‘Wet Floor’ signs would be put around the place once the area got cleared out, I’d have to keep my eyes on the ground just to be sure I don’t slip and fall and potentially break my neck.

He started to approach a fan to my left…

And stopped.

Right in front of me.

I felt my pulse begin racing throughout my entire body, the flush on my cheeks reaching down to the back of my neck as the audience members next to me kept their hands towards Terzo. He looked down, directly at my withdrawn hand as I held it against my chest.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

He looked back up at me…

…got down on his left knee…

…held out his hand…

…and his smile easily put an angel’s to shame.

Holy fuck.

I’m getting Cirice’d.

I’m getting Cirice’d.

I’M GETTING CIRICE’D!!!

Before I knew it, my fingertips met the soft fabric of Terzo’s gloved palm, and his fingers curled around mine, his thumb brushing the back of my hand as he tugged me closer to him. While my brain short-circuited and the ball of shyness threatened to explode in my chest, my other hand tried and failed to cover up and cool down the blush on my left cheek. My head was on the verge of overheating, but an airiness settled itself along with the heat as I looked up at Terzo. He knelt right in front of me, my hand in his as the Ghouls started playing again, his voice so clear and pretty as he sang the main chorus of the song. The corners of my mouth curled into a timid smile, and I could only look away for a few seconds before my eyes found his again, the anxiety wearing down and changing into a bubbly, giddy sort of shyness with a ton of suppressed excitement just short of bursting. My very first Ghost ritual, and I got to hold hands with Papa Emeritus III.

I couldn’t wait to gush about it to Elijah and Allison.

He pulled me closer, my stomach beginning to press against the edge of the stage, and I was more than certain that he, the Ghouls, and the audience could see the imaginary pink and red cartoon hearts floating around my head and popping like bubbles. Anticipation fluttered in my chest, and just when I thought things couldn’t get any better than they were right now, Terzo set his microphone down next to him, his voice still perfectly clear as day, and I felt a legitimate shiver—an actual honest-to-God shiver—run down my spine as he gently tilted my chin up with his other hand, like something straight out of a romance novel. His thumb brushed against my bottom lip, and I swear the ground almost disappeared beneath my feet, my breathing grew slightly heavier, and the noisy crowd behind me faded away into simple background noise.

Blood thrummed in my ears. Adrenaline rushed through me. My toes curled inside my shoes, the muscles in my shoulders ached the longer I tensed them, but I stayed rooted to my spot.

“…s… im…!”

What…?

“Ki… im…!”

The hell were they saying?

“Kiss him!!”

Oh.

OH.

Okay, I definitely did not hear that right. There was absolutely no way in hell that the entire audience started chanting “Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!” nonstop, their screams loud enough to make the entire arena tremble. I clutched the fabric of my pants, my knuckles no doubt turning white, the muscles in my fingers twitching with how hard I was straining them. Most of my brain yelled at me not to do it, not to risk getting banned from another Ghost concert for life; so I just stood there, willing my body not to pass out from how close Terzo was, how the fabric of his gloved palms fueled the steaming blush on my cheeks and sent shivers down my back, how his fingers brushed against the…

…the hollow of my…

…my throat…

His eyes…

…his mysterious white eye that gleamed under the harsh stage lights…

…the way his furrowed brows enhanced his gaze to create the most beautiful pair of ‘fuck me’ eyes I’d ever seen…

…the only ones I’d ever…

And then it happened.

It finally happened.

A pair of warm paint-covered lips pressed against mine, stray locks of raven hair traced feather-light touches against my temples. My fingers clutched the left collar of Terzo’s coat as my knees threatened to buckle under my weight. The butterflies immediately erupted from my stomach and spread throughout the rest of my body. I couldn’t tell my own thundering heartbeat from the deafening roar of the crowd while the last few minutes of ‘Cirice’ had now become simple background noise. His fingers gently threaded through my hair, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as he tightened his grip on my hand. The steaming rosy blush on my cheeks spread down to my neck, my eyes fluttered to a close, and my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.

It finally happened.

I just had my first kiss.

-

My breaths were deep and slow as my eyes fluttered open, the Christmasy smell of fresh pine flowing through my nose as the gentle hum of the A/C met my ears. The thinnest rays of sunlight were just beginning to stream through my window, casting slanted orange-yellow patterns and shapes on the walls; a strand of hair stuck to my left eye, but at least I didn’t get a flash-bang straight to the face. I turned onto my back and sluggishly raised my left hand up, brushing my fingers against my dry and chapped lips. After making a quick mental note to apply lip balm later—Mom would definitely get on my ass about it—I clenched the blanket and threw my head back against the pillow, glaring at the ceiling like it owed me money and was too lazy to pay me back even a dollar. My cheeks puffed out as I added a childish pout to my little staring contest with the drywall or whatever it was above my head. I didn’t have a doubt that grabbing my pillow and punching it would have woken up my parents and my brother in the next room over, so I just sat there and pulled the blanket over my face, a warm flush coloring my cheeks as I willed the bed to swallow me whole and let me wallow in my own disappointment.

I huffed, crossing my arms. I should have known it was too good to be true. Kissing Terzo immediately after getting Cirice’d? I mean, come on. No way. I would give all the money in my bank account for that—consensually, of course, I’m not a total creep—but the chances of a kiss on the lips during that part of the song are practically zero. He probably has a girlfriend, or boyfriend, or gender-non-confirming date friend or something; if I were his partner—God, I wish—I’d be pretty pissed if he made out with every fan he Cirice’d. Besides, security would have definitely stopped that from happening.

A girl can dream, though.

You, Your Mother, the Cardinal, and the Christmas Lights

Cardinal Copia x reader

In which you’re dealing with your toxic mother and although Cardinal Copia isn’t riding right behind you on a pale white horse, he’s still always there for you <3

This is the song that plays when the happy part of the story starts!

•♥︎♥︎♥︎•

You sighed deeply as you strolled around the large Christmas lights display in the park. It was only a few days before Christmas; and lots of people milled about, chatting, laughing, taking pictures, and admiring all the twinkling lights. The whole park was covered in lights and decorations, every tree lit up in pretty colours. It was cold, cold enough to see your breath every time you exhaled; and fluffy snowflakes were falling lightly, adding to the magic of everything.

But it wasn’t magical for you, in fact it was far from it. Because you were with your mother, and she just wouldn’t stop berating you. This was what she did, she constantly took all of her frustrations out on you. And although you knew this, although you told yourself over and over again that it wasn’t your fault, it still hurt like hell. It wore you down, boring a hole into you where your heart should be. It made your head spin, your jaw clench, feeling like nothing more than a sad puddle on the ground.

You looked around at all the people in the park, big smiles on their faces as they enjoyed spending time with one another. Why weren’t you allowed the same privilege of just being happy?

You tried to zone out and focus your thoughts on Copia- he was your boyfriend of sorts. You had really fallen for each other since you started volunteering at his church, but you hadn’t officially declared yourselves as dating yet. Copia was the Cardinal at that huge Satanic ministry on the hill that loomed over your town. He was 50, which was way older than you. A whole lifetime older than you. You didn’t expect your mother to be very happy about you dating someone who was easily old enough to be your dad, let alone some Satanic clergyman, so you both decided to keep it unofficial for now. All this time, your mother never knew you were riding your bike up to the ministry to visit your dear Cardinal. It was only a matter of time before you joined his church, and then you could be together all the time.

You desperately wished he was here now to save you, to whisk you away and work his magic on your tense nerves and broken heart. You had invited him to be your date to look at the lights, but he had apologetically declined because he needed to finish a big stack of Latin translations and paperwork. And besides, Christmas wasn’t really his thing.

“See all these people here? They’re all with their family and friends and you’re not. You’re all alone in the world because nobody likes you! You’re worthless! And now I’m stuck with you because you have no one else.” Your mother droned on and on and on. You let out a tired groan, wishing you had at least brought earmuffs to take the edge of her grating voice. Your eyes were empty, void of all emotion as you silently took the abuse. If you talked back, it would only make things worse.

Tears threatened to spill onto your cold cheeks, feeling lonelier than ever. The winter iciness was also starting to get to you, as you didn’t even have a hot drink to fight off the chill.

Wait- is that? No, no, it couldn’t be. Your mind is probably just playing tricks on you.

But then a few people moved and you spotted him in the crowd. Were you daydreaming too hard, were you imagining things? You blinked a few times, wiping the tears from your eyes to see more clearly. Sure enough, he was really there. Your sweet Cardinal, looking absolutely dashing in his tight black suit and a warmer dress coat on top, with a long scarf bundled around his neck that somehow added an irresistible pitifulness to his look. Fuck, he was so adorable. The man was completely and utterly out of his element, but that only caused your heart to swell for him more. He looked all around for you, gloved hands clasped meekly in from of himself, awkwardly apologizing as he nearly bumped into a few people. You grinned even wider when you noticed he was holding his cane, the one with the serpent head handle.

“It’s never a moment’s peace with you! Because who else do you have besides me? No one!” Your mother scowled.

“That’s not true.” You finally spoke up, a big smile finding its way onto your face as you stared at the love of your life.

“What do you mean? Who else wants to be around you??” She scoffed bitterly.

“My boyfriend.” You replied, butterflies fluttering in your stomach just from finally saying it out loud.

“What do you mean?! You don’t have a-“

Without another word, you ran up to Copia, weaving through groups of people. “Cardinal!” You shouted, getting his attention.

He grinned brightly upon seeing you rushing up to him, pleasantly surprised when you practically tackled him into a tight hug and pulled him in for a kiss right there in front of all those people.

The Cardinal kissed you back with absolute fervour, his lips warm against your cold ones, although you felt warmer already from just being in his arms.

Some groups of people watched and gawked, wondering why such a pretty young thing like you would be in a passionate lip lock with such an older man. But you couldn’t care less, you wanted everyone to witness the feelings you had for your Cardinal. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

Copia brushed some snow off your hair as you did the same for him, pulling away slightly to take each other in. Your noses, cheeks, and lips were flushed from the chilly weather, and you both silently admired the way each other looked like this. Your eyes glittered with crystalline tears, joyful ones now that your love was here.

“Cardinal how did you… how did you know where I was? This park is huge.” You asked, cupping his cold face in your hands.

“I just walked around looking for the most beautiful girl here. And now I’ve got her, si?” He replied, a charming smile on his devastatingly handsome face as he pinched your cheek playfully. He then brought you in for another kiss, the whole world falling away as your lips met, causing your heart to thrum loudly in your chest.

“Come, Dolcezza, you are cold. Mi fratelli are here as well, and we have a nice hot chocolate for you, si?” The man smiled, putting a hand on the small of your back and leading you away. You took one last glance at your confused mother, before nuzzling into the Cardinal’s side and strolling away with him.

Soon, you began giggling as you heard the sound of Terzo’s voice.

“Don’t you know how to take a selfie, old man?! It’s what all the giovanetti are doing nowadays!” Terzo’s voice rung out among the crowd.

“Pff, ‘old man’… You’re only two months younger than me, coglione! Plus, I’m the one holding all the goddamn cioccolati caldi!” Secondo barked back at his brother.

You spotted them just in time to catch Primo rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

“Ciao, tutti!” You called out, and immediately you were surrounded by the Papas as they pushed Copia aside to hug you.

“Oh! Ciao, Tesoro mio!” Terzo flashed you with that charming smile, pulling you into his arms and smothering you with multiple kisses on your cheeks under the guise of ‘trying to warm you up.’ You giggled at him fawning all over you, looking cute while he wore a warm winter coat, fuzzy earmuffs, a scarf, and his regular white gloves. “Poveretta, tu sei così fredda!” He exclaimed, taking his scarf off and looping it around your neck far too many times until you had to pull it away from covering your mouth.

Secondo was wearing his parka, the one he sometimes wore while playing Uno, and he shoved his brother aside, handing the hot chocolates he was holding to Terzo. His typical scowl softened when he looked at you, and he pulled you into a warm hug and pressed a kiss your forehead.

And finally Primo, who was looking sharp in a tailored wool coat, black turtleneck, and plaid scarf. He hugged you gently and kissed your temple, making you smile endearingly at all the love these men so freely gave you. They were all in their paints, and everyone around you was staring in complete confusion, but it only amused you as you pulled them all closer to you.

“Here, amore, bevi questo!” Terzo cheerfully handed you a hot chocolate and one for Copia.

“Thank you… All of you. You always make me feel so special.” You sighed, finally feeling warm and happy as you sipped the hot drink. They even got you extra marshmallows, just how you liked it.

“We love spending time with you, Dolcezza.”Copia smiled, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Si, cara, it is always our pleasure to be with you.” Primo nodded.

“A pleasure indeed.” Your Cardinal whispered into your ear, kissing your neck and causing your cheeks to flush even more.

The five of you walked around the park, taking pictures together and making good memories that you would never forget, screaming in laughter as Terzo chased you through one of the light tunnels.

When you had all finished your hot chocolates, you tugged on Copia’s sleeve, catching his attention.

“Si, Topolina?”

“How about we go back to the ministry and warm up, hm?” You whispered into his ear.

He stopped walking then, letting his brothers go on a little ways without you.

“Oh, amore… There is nothing I would want more. I… I love you.” He sighed into you, pressing his pointy nose into your cheek, his moustache tickling the corner of your lips.

“I love you too.. Oh, Copia, I love you. I love you, I love you!” Your heart fluttered as you whispered those words over and over again, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing your sweet Cardinal over and over again, his beautifully odd eyes closing as a soft moan escaped him.

“Are you two coming?” Secondo called back, and the two of you looked over with grins on your faces.

“Not yet, but we will be soon..” Copia murmured to you with a wink, causing you to gasp at him with wide eyes before you giggled, strolling hand in gloved hand to join the three Papas and head back to the ministry.

And you couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief. Who knew you’d be spending Christmas at the Church of Satan? But with the Papas, with your darling Cardinal, you truly felt that it was where you belonged.

end <3

Happy holidays everyone! 🖤

Tagging: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @mister-girl @faeeeeh

Wallflower Pt. II

Read Part I here

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smut/PWP, overstimulation, dom/sub, begging, possessive behavior, choking kink, dirty talk, praise kink, a hint of degradation kink, character study, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex/creampie, crying during sex, semi-public sex/office sex, pet names, dom!secondo, orgasm control, corruption kink, no beta.

A/N: a part two to this fic that I typed up bc I wanted to finish it :) enjoy

WC: N/A

You whimpered at that, knowing he was telling the truth. He wasn’t going to stop until he made you scream for him—until you shamelessly begged him to fuck you stupid.

He grinned, chuckling again, “you know that I mean it, don’t you? My shy little dove is going to cum until they’re begging me to stop.”

“Y-Yes Papa,” you answered, face flushed a deep red from a combination of shyness and arousal. You could feel your cunt dripping into Secondo’s palm, your desperation clear as day.

“Do you want my cock, little one? Do you want your papa to fill you up with his cock until you’re crying from pleasure, hm?” he asked, his voice gravely, growing deeper as his own arousal grew. His dick was painfully hard in the confines of his slacks, the zipper straining from the tent there.

You nodded, unable to speak as his fingers kept moving, hitting that spot inside you over and over, your eyes squeezing shut as you fought another orgasm. Small moans and sharp breaths left you instead, your hips arching towards him involuntarily as you tried hard not to cum again. Secondo wasn’t having it, his look growing stern as he fucked his fingers into you harder, “cum again, caro. Don’t fight your papa. Be good and cum for me. Now.”

You bit back a scream as you came, your limbs growing weak from the force of it. Secondo kept you up right, unfazed by your lack of control. “So good for me, my little dove,” he crooned in praise, withdrawing his fingers from inside you. He brought them up to your lips, the leather of his gloves coated in your cum, sliding in with ease as your lips parted on instinct, allowing them inside. You sucked your cum off, making Secondo groan in response, the sensation going straight to his dick.

Secondo growled, quickly getting your pants down so he could sit you on his desk, pushing you backward so you were laid out on the wooden surface. You could hear the metallic rattling of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper being undone until finally, finally his cock was free.

“Ask me to fuck you, caro mio. Look me in the eyes and beg for my cock,” he demanded, pulling your legs up to rest over his broad shoulders, the muscles straining under his black dress shirt. Secondo was huge, standing at 6 foot and well-built; he could snap you in half like a toothpick, which only seemed to make you hornier. You liked that he could manhandle you anyway he wanted, although you were much too shy to voice such fantasies.

You whined in complaint, unable to keep steady eye contact with him, his dick sliding along your slit as he waited for you to ask for what you wanted. Secondo didn’t say anything, simply raising a brow as he waited for your reply. You shook your head, choking on the words, “c-can’t, Papa. I’m too shy, I don’t think I can—“

“You can,” he interjected, leaning over you, his face mere inches from yours, “and you will, little wallflower, or you will get nothing at all.”

That made you growl in frustration, your muscles twitching, your cunt clenching around nothing. You needed him and you needed him now.

“Do not play this game with me, bambino. You will not win. Do as your told and you’ll get what you want,” he urged, rocking his hips faster, his cock dragging along your clit just enough to drive you insane, to make you needier.

You looked at him, mouth slack, words slurred, “please Papa, just fuck me. Please fuck me, please.”

Secondo grinned, kissing your throat, his hand wrapping around his neglected cock so he could line himself up. In one swift thrust he was inside you, his balls pressed against your ass. You let out a high pitched wail of pleasure, grabbing at him as he bottomed out. “As you wish,” Secondo whispered teasingly, knowing the bite of pain you felt when he forced his way inside you was punishment enough for your continued avoidance of vocalizing your wants.

“Please,” you slurred again, pleading for something—anything—that would make you cum again. You needed to cum around his cock, to make your mind go blank, to feel that euphoric high as you let go rush through your veins, ensnaring you in satisfaction.

You were shy; everyone knew that. Most didn’t know—or at least they didn’t know for certain—that you craved this. You craved the teasing, the game of cat and mouse that you would ultimately lose, the constant pushing until you inevitable succumbed to pure, unabashed lust. You wanted this.

You wanted Secondo to break you down, to corrupt you in some way. You wanted to be forced from this constant state of overthinking and into a state of calm. You wanted to take what was given, to give up control.

Secondo was the perfect man to do such a thing. You knew that.

He did too.

Secondo’s hips snapped into yours over and over, the head of his cock slamming deep inside you, moans of ecstasy acting like music to his ears as he continued hammering into you. “So fucking tight, piccolo. You take my cock so well, caro, so well. You were made for this, little dove. You were made to take my cock,” he rambled, head dropping back as he fucked into you, hard and fast.

You came from his words, your cunt clamping down on his cock as you spasmed, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you did. Secondo groaned, hips stuttering slightly as he struggled to hold back his own orgasm. He didn’t want to cum this early, not until you were a mess on his desk, crying from pleasure.

You writhed on the desktop, trying to get away from him, trying to escape the overstimulation that was now beginning to overtake you. “Not so fast,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips hard, “I’m not done wrecking my little fuck toy yet. We aren’t done until I say we are done, caro mio, and I haven’t said we are done.”

You whined, high pitched and pathetic, tears of overstimulation pricking at your eyes as he fucked into you, hard and fast and unforgiving. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles at the right speed, with just enough pressure to rip scream after scream out of you.

“That’s good, piccolo. Scream for your papa, little dove. Let everyone in this Abbey know who owns you,” Secondo laughed darkly, mismatched eyes glowing with sadistic glee at your tears and screams of tortured ecstasy.

“P-Please,” you cried, voice breaking, “please, I—fuck, hurts, oh fuck—please Papa! I c-can’t take it.”

Secondo nuzzled his nose into yours, smiling against your lips. “Yes you can. You can take it for me. Your papa wants two more, little dove. I want you to cum on my cock again.”

You shook your head, eyes stained red with your tears, your lips swollen and hair mussed up. You looked like you had lost a fight with a freight train, broken and writhing on the desk from pain and glorious pleasure.

Secondo nodded, nipping at your bottom lip, his voice a low rumble from deep in his chest, “two more, little wallflower. Just two more. I will be so pleased with you if you cum two more times for me. You are doing so well, amore, making me so proud. Cum again for papa.”

The fingers at your clit resumed their ministrations, choked sobs catching in your throat from the pain of overstimulation. Secondo licked at the stray tears slipping down your cheeks, groaning from the heady combination of salt and skin.

Secondo adjusted your position, his hands slipping up your back, pulling you up into him and deepening his thrusts. Your sex fluttered around him, another orgasm building from his merciless strokes. You were crying and moaning and whimpering, each snap of his pelvis emphasized by the exhale of breath and soft ‘ah ah ah’s’.

“Fuck you feel so good,” Secondo praised, his hips rolling into you at a slower pace, the head of his cock dragging over just the right spot inside you to make you keen and shake. He grinned in realization, rolling his hips again, pleased when you nearly screamed, your nails digging into him as you rocked back up to meet him, trying to push yourself over the edge of climax.

Once, twice, thrice more and you were cumming, falling over the edge with a scream of his name. Secondo slowed his movements, stalling inside you, his balls pressed against you as he let you come down a little bit. “Just one more, piccolo. One more. You sound so pretty when you scream my name, cumming all over my cock like the needy little thing you are. So good for your papa, Il mio piccolo girasole (my little sunflower),” he cooed quietly, kissing your forehead as you cried from pleasure laced pain.

Secondo began thrusting again, slow but hard, his cock hammering deep inside you. It was agonizing, your cunt aching from the pain as he used you, his muscles tensing as he neared his climax.

“Are you going to cum with your papa, little dove?” he asked teasingly, his voice wavering with another deep thrust and another clench of your sex around his cock.

You didn’t reply, your mind long gone as he gave you climax after climax. You whimpered and cried, trembling with each coaxing touch, nearly your edge again with torturous vigor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Secondo chuckled, amusement written all over his face. His paint was beginning to run, the black streaking with the white, blending certain sections.

You bucked up against him, trying to dislodge his body in order to escape, his cock dragging in and out lazily, only for a hard stroke to follow, driving you crazy. You were a mess, covered in sweat and spit and your own arousal, lips swollen and eyes ringed red with tears. Secondo wished he could bottle the moment and relive it whenever the mood struck him, but he figured fucking you stupid another time would suffice.

“C-Can’t, papa,” you sobbed out, begging in only a few words for him to stop.

“We both know you can,” he snapped, gripping your throat with a gloved hand, yanking your face up to his roughly, “I’ve explained it time and time again. You can. You will. Be a good little fucktoy and cum all over my cock, bambino. Cum on my cock like the messy little slut you are for your papa.”

He slammed into you over and over, until you finally came with a scream, body spasming and going limp, your eyes fluttering shut. Secondo groaned, his balls drawing up as he spilled inside you, filling you with his cum. He mourned the feeling of your wet heat around his dick when he pulled out, his half hard cock soaking wet with your slick, his cum dribbling out of your used hole.

“Not so shy now, my little dove. You will never have to be shy around your papa. I promise.”

Finished my Phantom Copia sketches! Please enjoy angels of music! ♥️✨

Family gathering y’all

Wallflower

Read part II here

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smut/PWP, dom/sub, Drabble, gender neutral reader, dom!secondo, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, implied semi-public sex, character study, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, corruption kink, teasing, not beta read, possessive behavior, kissing, orgasm control, bdsm elements, etc.

A/N: Trying to get better at AFAB smut so here’s a round of practice with bone daddy secondo

WC: 834

Secondo had always been—always would be—a fan of brats. He loved watching them break, watching them fold, watching as they denied themselves pleasure with prideful looks on their faces, only for the look to come crashing down when he finally broke them down. He loved that aspect in a partner, sexual or otherwise.

Yes, he was definitely a fan of brats.

Then you came along.

You were most certainly not a brat. You were too shy to be a brat, at least at first, a slight blush creeping up over your features at any degree of debauchery. You were a wallflower, skirting around people you deemed intimidating, eyes on your feet as you tried not to get flustered in the presence of people that could work you up easily.

Secondo was a fan of that, too. Brats were fun because of how deeply corrupted they were; you were fun because of how fundamentally corruptible you were. Secondo was just as drawn to it, much like a moth is drawn to flame.

Yeah, he really liked your innocence.

And now here you were, pressed up against his desk, a finger teasing your entrance, your face flushed bright red as he watched you, a grin on his face. Your eyes were darting all over, careful to avoid his own eyes as you squirmed, whimpering in hopes of getting one of his fingers inside you.

You were damn near drunk on the scent of leather and his cologne, the feather-light touches along your slit driving you closer to the brink of insanity. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, whines of need flowing freely as he continued teasing you with skilled touches.

Secondo leaned down, pressing a kiss to your head, his mouth dropping closer to your ear as he whispered, “all you have to do is look me in the eyes and ask nicely, and your papa will give you what you want. I know how badly you want to be good for me, little dove. I know you can do it, piccolo; be good and ask.”

You shivered, face flushing harder from his proximity and his words. You opened your mouth to try and speak, small squeaks and whines escaping instead. Your fingers were digging harder into the desk, your knuckles going white as you tried to force the words out.

“I—I want.. I need… I—“ you stuttered, feeling thoroughly flustered as he waited patiently.

“Look at me, caro. You’re doing so good. Now just look at me and ask,” he cooed, stroking back over your slit teasingly.

You swallowed, looking up at him as you took in a shaky breath, your pupils blown with lust. “I want y-your fingers inside me,” you whispered, holding eye contact for a few seconds longer before breaking away.

Secondo smiled, wide and wicked, his middle finger slipping inside you with ease from how wet you were. “Very good,” he purred in praise, nipping at your neck, “but you’re always so well behaved, aren’t you? Such an obedient little thing you are.”

You didn’t say anything, teeth clamped down on your lower lip as you fought to contain your moans, his finger curling inside you.

Secondo nipped along your neck and jawline, his breath hot on your skin, “so obedient and so, so shy. My cock gets hard just thinking about all the ways I could make you squirm. I’m going to ruin you, little dove.”

“Please,” you begged, unsure of what you were really begging for, your thoughts hazy and far away as another finger slipped inside with the first.

“Always so polite,” he praised with a slight snicker, definitely teasing you as he curled his fingers just right, pressing against that sweet spot inside you. You moaned, shaking in his hold, your arousal dripping down his fingers.

“Does that feel good?”

You nodded, eyes rolling back as he continued stroking over that one spot. “F-Fuck, Papa please,” you whined out, bucking into him when his palm made contact with your clit, grinding down into it to work you up even more.

“You want to cum on my fingers, bambino?” he all but sung in question, your hands moving to grasp him as you got closer and closer to cumming.

“Y-Yes,” you answered, tone full of desperation, “please make me cum, Papa, please.”

Secondo leaned down to kiss you, biting down on your bottom lip as he did, the nip of pain sending electric sparks throughout your body. “Cum for your Papa, little dove. Cum for me,” he whispered hotly, two more strokes of his fingers sending you hurtling over the edge. He fucked his fingers inside you harder, determined to continue and draw another climax out of you.

You tried to squirm out of his hold, gripping his wrist as the sensation became too much. Secondo chuckled, the sound dying out into a growl, “you aren’t going to be so shy by the time I’m finished with you, my little wallflower. That’s a promise.”

He just showed up out of nowhere. I have no idea how he got in my house, but he was in my kitchen and he ate my entire pack of sliced bread.

- V

Have you tried offering Plushia support in coming out of the closet? - Jez from @emeritus-fuckers

Oh, he came out to me months ago, and as a fellow queer person, I couldn’t be prouder for him! But the problem is that he’s squatting in my bedroom closet and won’t leave, and whenever I’m about to sleep, he peeps out and stares at me for a couple of minutes before popping back inside.

- V

New blood

Available in my shop!