For The Halloween-esque Prompts!

Since I can’t sleep I’ll just share this adorable Secondo video I ran across on HourlySecondo on X:

I want to have him reach out to hold my hand comfortingly. Why can’t I have that? Is no fair. He is so sweet, he even forgets his English a little, here. Non si preoccupi, Papa, lei ed io ci capiremmo molto bene, le assicuro 🤍

Can I also ask for Primo and „whispering in-between kisses“? You know what types of kisses 👀

I know the exact kind of kisses you want. It's time to worship that old man.

What You See I Primo x gn!reader

~ Primo needs you to tell him what you see when you look at him ~

(1800 words, fluff, angst, body worship, some spice, nsfw, 18+ only, not beta read)

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“Amore, what do you see when you look at me?”

You set your brush down onto your vanity and turned sideways in the chair to look at Primo.

“I see someone that was supposed to be dressed ten minutes ago.”

Usually Primo enjoyed your teasing and he often teased you back.  It was an easy banter between two people that had known each other for many years.  Looking at Primo right now though it was clear he was not in a teasing mood.  He sat down heavily on the side of your bed, a long sigh exhaling out of him.

“That is not what I mean.”  There was a tone to his voice you didn’t normally hear and it made you get up to head his way.  You held your bathrobe together and quietly padded over to stand before him.  Primo was staring down at his hands in his lap, wringing them together nervously, so you dropped to your knees and slipped your hands into his to stop the movement.  “Tell me the truth.”

You pulled his hands towards you and placed kisses into each of his palms before looking up at him.  He met your gaze now, his eyes searching yours for an answer.  

“I see the man I’ve admired for many years and loved for many more.”  Primo snorted and pulled his hands away with enough force you fell back on your butt.  “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“That is not what I asked.”  He stood up and then reached down to you, gently grasping your elbows and pulling you to your feet.  You let out another ‘hey’ when he tugged you over to the windows that overlooked his garden.  Primo squeezed your hands and then let go of one to grasp your chin.  “Now, look at me and tell me what you see.”

You pulled away from his hands and then placed yours on his shoulders.  With a firm shove you got him to fall into the chair behind him and climbed after him.  You straddled him, your knees on either side of his legs.  He wouldn’t meet your eyes so you used his own move on him and took a hold of his chin.

“I see someone that is tired from all of his years of working hard for this church.”  His mismatched gaze met yours then and your heart clenched at the look in his eyes.  You leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before moving down to kiss the soft, puffy skin under each eye.  “You never get enough sleep because you’re up too late worrying about your brothers.”

The only answer you got was a soft nod and you smiled at him before kissing the tip of his nose.  Your lips trailed from there to where the skin next to his mouth where he had wrinkles from smiling and then further down to where it had begun to sag.

“My Papa is getting older and his face shows it.  His body shows it.”  You kissed along his chin and then made your way down his neck, whispering into the wrinkled skin there when you stopped again.  “Can I keep going, Papa?  Can I show you what else I see?”

You felt him nod above you so you slipped your hands into his robe and pushed it off his shoulders.  He was bare underneath and you took a moment to admire the body you had been intimately familiar with for many years now.  When you started kissing him again you made your way from his neck across to his shoulder.

“Your skin has seen too much sun, Papa.  Look at all these freckles.”  To illustrate the amount he had you made sure to kiss each one you saw.  You made a mental note to be more forceful with sunscreen next time he went out in his garden.  Down his arm you went, finally holding his hand up between you so you could both look at the rough skin on the back.  A few of his knuckles were misshapen, arthritis having begun to set into his joints many years ago.  “I can tell that these hands have done so much.”

“Like what?”

Primo’s voice was quiet and shaking slightly.  You were afraid to look into his eyes because if you saw tears there you would end up crying too.  He needed you to be strong right now and you refused to let him down.

“Your hands have held onto so many others here, guiding them onto their path within the church…leading them in prayer…pulling them from the lake during their unholy baptism.”  A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.  “I’ve seen this hand slap Secondo on the back of the head when he misbehaved as a child.”

“Or as a grown man.”

It was good to hear Primo laugh and you chanced a look at his face.  His eyes shone with unshed tears and he sniffed when he saw the same in your eyes.  He brought his free hand over and caught one when it started to trail down your cheek.  

“I remember you holding Terzo’s hand when his mother passed away, how you carried him around the garden so he could pick flowers to take to her grave each week.”  You grabbed his other hand when he tried to wipe your tears away again.  “And I remember when you stormed up to Nihil and took Copia from his arms.”

“That old fool wasn’t cut out to be a father.”

“No he wasn’t, but you were.”  You placed his hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward to place a kiss on his chest over his heart.  His chest hair was more white than blonde now, much like the hair on his head before he had begun to shave it, but it was still soft to the touch.  For a moment you rested your ear against him, listening to his strong heartbeat.  “You’ve been there for all of your brothers and helped them to become the men they are today.”  

He took a deep breath under your ear and you could tell he was trying very hard to control his emotions.  You weren’t done though, because deep down you knew what his biggest worry was when he started this conversation.  Very slowly you turned your head so that your lips were against his skin and you kissed a trail to his nipple.  You flicked your tongue against it before pulling it between your lips and nipping at it softly with your teeth.

“Amore…”

“Hush Papa, I’m not done.”  You moved to his other nipple and gave it the same amount of attention before going lower to where his skin had started to pull down with age.  The wrinkles here were larger, the skin soft and warm against your lips.  Primo jumped when your tongue left a wet trail across his chest.  “When I look at you Primo, when I touch you, I see a man that has aged beautifully.”

Your mouth moved to the center of his chest and you slid off his lap to rest on your knees before him.  The robe was easy to pull off his lap and now he was completely bare before you.  His cock was still soft, but that didn’t surprise you.  It didn’t bother you either.  You placed your hands on his knees and then slid them up his thighs, resting where they met his waist.  Primo abruptly dropped his hands to cover yours and gave them a squeeze.

“Not tonight, I don’t think, amore.  Too much going on in this old head.”

You smiled and moved closer to him, shouldering his legs further apart.  

“It doesn’t make a difference to me either way.  Do you know why?”  Primo shook his head, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp as you leaned forward and started to mouth along his soft cock.  “Because I still see the man I love no matter what is happening here.”

Even soft his cock was long and you took it as deep as you could, the tip reaching well into your mouth.  You tongued the underside, pulling back so you could press it against his slit.  His thighs had begun to shake under your hands and you heard him groan above you.  As you bobbed up and down a few times you let out a little moan when you felt him finally twitch in your mouth.  With a smile you pulled off, a string of saliva lingering from your lips to the tip as you moved away.  Primo pulled a hand out from under yours and rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip, smearing your saliva around.

“Shall I keep going Papa?”  He gave you a quick nod, taking a deep breath as you mouthed along the side of his cock.  It twitched again, slowly filling out as you gave it attention.  You licked the drop of precum that started to leak at the tip and then looked up to see him watching you.  “Will you tell me now?  Will you tell me what you see when you look at me?”

He brought his hands up to cup your face, smiling softly as he pulled you close enough to slip his cock into your mouth once more.

“I see someone that is more beautiful than any flower in my garden.”  Primo grunted as he began to thrust in and out of your mouth, his cock nearly fully hard.  “Someone that has never left my side, that ah!  Cazzo.  Someone that…someone that I love more than anything.”

His moans started to mix with your whimpers as he moved faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust now.  There was so much more you wanted to say.  So much more that he needed to hear but you didn’t want to stop him.  You wanted him to fill your mouth with his cum, you wanted to swallow everything he gave you.  

Primo’s fingers began to dig harder in your hair as his cock started to kick in your mouth.  It wasn’t long before he nearly doubled-over as he came.  Your mouth filled with his release and you did your best to swallow it all, lapping at his cock to clean off what you could.  When he pulled out you kept your lips wrapped around him until you pulled off with a soft pop.  He was looking at you like you were the only other person in his world and you found your eyes filling with tears again when he spoke softly to you.

“In you, amore, I see someone that I will worship until my final days.  If you’ll let me.”

“Forever, Papa.”

He chuckled, wiping the mixture of saliva and his release off your chin before leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“Forever.” 

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my masterlist

my ao3

As a child, I was always searching for the meaning of it all, the big Why; and my father always said that there is no one big purpose but I had the most ripe orange today and kissed my cat goodnight, I think that's enough purpose for a day.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

if Secondo was a type of parrot, which would he be 🗿

I had to research some parrots for this. There’s nanday parakeets which aesthetically make me think of Secondo being mostly green with a black hood marking over their head but most parrot species, assuming they’ve been raised well, are pretty social and affectionate animals. Some say that Pionus parrots are much more independent than others and will typically be more reserved except with chosen close people, so maybe that?

But since we’re talking about Secondo and birds… I’d like to introduce y’all to the King Vulture, scientific name Sarcoramphus papa, inspired by the Latin Papa for bishop as their plumage resembles that of one’s dress. It is bald with a small patch of colorful feathers and the species is minimally sexually dimorphic which means there are minimal differences between the appearance of males and females ( <—genderqueer Secondo believer)

In Mayan mythology these birds were believed to be messengers of the gods or to be a god themselves and often were depicted as gods with a human body and bird head. Historically, it’s blood and feathers were often used in medicines and remedies.

Hey friendo 💜 drunk (mutually / accidental) kisses with Papa II if you feel like it???

Indeed my friend, I do feel like it 💙

A Single Kiss

Secondo x GN Reader (gender neutral reader, fluff, nsfw but there's just some tipsy kissing, 1k words)

~ You need a very specific type of kiss from your Papa ~

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“Your eyes are meaty.”

The look on Secondo’s face was priceless, just pure bewilderment at what had come out of your mouth.  He grunted when you nearly toppled over again, letting out a string of Italian that you had no hope of understanding while sober let alone in your current state.  You did recognize the word for shoe and you obediently held each foot up so he could remove the tall heels you had chosen for the night.  When he chucked them down the hall you pouted, turning to go back and get them, but a quick tug on your hand had you spinning back towards him and pressed against his chest.

“We’ll get them later.”  You poked your bottom lip out more and plucked at one of the buttons on his waistcoat.  “You’ll break an ankle teetering around in those in your current state.”

“Someone will take them.”

Secondo snorted and shook his head.  He had forgone the facepaint tonight, opting for just a black upper lip like in his cardinal days.  Without the full paint it was easier to see his expressions, easier to see how he felt about you.  Things were a little fuzzy around the edges of your vision, but you were pretty sure he was wearing that fond look he got whenever you two were alone together.    

“Piccolina, who would take your shoes?”

“Terzo.”

Lucifer, you loved seeing him laugh.  He turned and wandered back down the hall to grab your shoes.  You let out a little sigh of appreciation watching him bend over to pick them up.  His perfectly tailored pants stretching across his ass and thighs.  

You loved seeing that too.

With your shoes in hand he returned to your side, slipping an arm back around your waist to keep you steady.  The walk back to his room went quietly.  He only had to rearrange your wandering hands a few times, quietly tutting at you when you whined.  How could he expect you to keep your hands to yourself when he looked like he did?  When he smelled like he did?  The urge to kiss him was always there, but right now it felt like if you didn’t you’d die.

“I think Terzo is too busy at his party to care about your shoes.”

“Secondo, come here.”

“I already am here, piccolina.”

You huffed and planted your feet as hard as you could trying to stop him, turning around to place your hands on his chest.  A single eyebrow rose up as he tried to figure out what you were doing.  Well, it should be obvious.  

“Silly Papa, I want to kiss you.”

“Oh really?  What’s the occasion?”

Ugh, why was his face so far away?  You gripped the lapels of his jacket in your hands and pulled yourself up on your tiptoes.  

“Your handsome face is the oc-occas…um,”  You squinted at his face, trying to remember the damn word when a wave of dizziness hit you.  Groaning, you leaned harder against him, your forehead falling to rest on his tie.  His chest vibrated as he chuckled and you hummed when he rubbed his free hand up and down your back.  The dizziness passed quickly so you leaned your head back to look at him again.  “I like your eyes.”

“Because they’re meaty?”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”  When he tried to gently nudge you forward you growled, planting your feet again.  “Papa no, we can’t move until you kiss me.”

“Ah, is that the price?  A single kiss?”

“Yup.”  Your lips popped on the ‘p’ and you grinned smugly at him.  “A good one, too.”

He moved the hand on your back to your cheek, lightly brushing his thumb across your cheek bone.  

“Aren’t all my kisses good, piccolina?”

“Yes, but I want a really good one.  Like…firm.  A firm kiss, Papa.”  

Secondo nodded solemnly, the look on his face making your heart do funny things in your chest.    

“A really good, firm kiss.  I think I can do this.”

“Sloppy, too.” 

“So demanding tonight.  Is there anything else?”

You scrunched your nose up as you thought about what else the kiss should have.  Your thoughts were so fuzzy it was hard to think about all the things that went into a kiss from your Papa.  

“Oh!  Tongue too.  Please.”

“Alright, I think I can manage that.  But after you’re going straight to bed, ok?”

“Yes, Papa.”

The sound of your shoes dropping back onto the floor echoed down the hall, but before you could protest their treatment Secondo was leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.  You had to cling to his jacket harder to stay upright, the force and passion behind his kiss tough to handle after all the colorful drinks you had at his brother’s party.  Secondo’s lips tasted like the bright pink concoction you’d foisted on him before he’d insisted you both leave.

You opened your mouth under his when his now free hand moved to your ass and his fingers dug into your flesh.  Secondo began to nip and suck at your lips before slipping his tongue inside your mouth.  Both of you groaned as the kiss deepened, your tongues flicking and rubbing against each other’s.  Secondo’s mouth dominated yours, his movements practiced but still full of passion.  When the kiss finally slowed and he began to pull away you whined, trying and failing to follow his mouth as he leaned back.  He shushed you, making you pout up at him.  

“Now, now.  I think I did everything you asked, si?”  You reluctantly nodded, but continued to pout.  He rubbed a thumb along your swollen bottom lip and clicked his tongue.  “It’s time for bed now, that was the deal.”

“Can there be more kisses?”

Secondo smiled gently and nodded, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.  

“I will always have kisses for you, piccolina.”

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my masterlist

my ao3

Thinking about Secondo having a corruption kink but its not necessarily all sex related. Like I know that's what it's primarily about, but hear me out.

He introduces you to all the facets of pleasure, not just sex— though he thoroughly enjoys indulging in that one with you every chance he gets.

But letting you take a drag of his cigarette, or showing you how to shotgun, drinking in the smoke from your sweet lips. Watching you get high and floaty, content as you drift in his arms.

Driving you on his motorcycle at insane speeds, loving the way your arms fit around his waist, how you feel pressed flush against his backside. Watching the neon lights of the city flash by in a blink.

Loves getting you tipsy drunk, watching you giggle and get frisky. Your first time skinny dipping with the moonlight framing your almost nude body against the reflection of the lake.

[secondo voice] am i right fellas? ...fellas?

Look who's next ! 👀✨

I have to. Secondo is my fav papa to draw even if I don't draw him that much and it's been a long time since I last drew him?? Well I sketch him quite a lot but never share jaidoqbd and I need to test my new love for textured brush on him.

The Fluffy Papa Series: Part 1

Alyssum

A Primo Story

No plot, no drama, no sad. Just fluff. Can be slightly suggestive. Fem reader.

Tiny rocks scrape and crunch beneath your boots as you walk the pebbled path toward the Ministry greenhouse. Wisteria hangs from the lattice framed above the door, interlaced with ivy which blankets the facade and reaches with eager fingers across the roof. Potted plants litter the ground of various shapes and sizes, the stone patio wet from a recent watering. 

“Did you have a nice drink?” You question the plants, smiling softly as you continue through the greenhouse door which hangs slightly ajar as if expecting your arrival. The smell of soil and freshly cut flowers greets you upon your entrance, and you take a moment to breathe in the space. Primo’s space. 

Primo prefers to do his gardening outside, the greenhouse used mostly as a workshop and a place for his little experiments. You step around a few stray gardening tools, following your nose to the beautiful bouquet expertly potted on a little table fit with a lace cloth. You lean forward to take in the honey-like fragrance, your smile growing. Each day, a new flower. A new meaning. Primo always says each flower tells a story. And these stories are for you. 

“Alyssum,” Primo’s warmly accented voice sends a butterfly fluttering about your stomach, and you turn to watch as he takes off his soil-stained gloves, laying them casually to the side. “Worth beyond beauty. And you, my petal, are worth far more than any flower I have ever grown.” His lips twitch with a smile. “Sì, you are beautiful as well. Perhaps tomorrow will be purple heather.”

You turn and delicately pick one of the blooms from the bouquet, approaching Primo with a blushing smile. He chuckles softly, his well-used hands reaching out to settle upon your hips the moment you are close enough. You hold out the flower, “And for my Papa? Whose green thumb, clever mind, and sweet nature are invaluable. And very much loved.”

Primo hums, his hands sliding higher, fingers squeezing and massaging your sides. He lets go of one to take the bloom and bring it to his hooked nose, inhaling deeply with a gentle sigh. A slow smirk crosses his thin lips, and he bops you on the head with the flower. “Sweet, my petal? You know more than anyone how passionate my true nature can be.” Primo’s words end on a soft growl and he pulls you closer, his head dipping into the crook of your neck. You squirm and giggle against him as he bites playfully at your soft skin, soothing it with his tongue. Your hands come to settle on his shoulders and you relax in his grip, sighing gently. Your eyes flutter shut as Primo drags a wet line to the shell of your ear. “Ti amo.” 

A tiny squeak of happiness erupts from your throat, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Primo grins, dropping another kiss to your neck. “Hmm, my petal?” He murmurs softly. “Does that make you happy?” 

“Very happy, Primo,” you say, your voice dreamy. You place a hand on his wrinkled cheek, feeling how soft the sagging skin is under your fingertips. “Oh! And…anc…anche…io?”

“Anche io, sì,” Primo encourages, smoothing a few flyaway hairs back from your forehead. “Very good! Learning more every day, amore. I am very proud.”

“It’s just a few words,” you say a little sheepishly, glancing to the side. 

Primo catches your chin with a thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze back to his. “A few words that make my heart sing. It’s how you are willing to learn that makes me proud, not how quickly or how well.” He tickles your side and you can’t help but laugh, the sound of your happiness warming even an old man’s cheeks. “Do not worry, tesoro. You will be able to eavesdrop on my brothers’ conversations soon enough.” Primo’s eyes twinkle as you gasp, and he swallows your rebuttal with a kiss. He tastes of rosehips.

“Did I interrupt tea time?” You ask softly when you part, your lips brushing against his as you speak, neither of you willing to part fully. 

“Interrupt? Non essere sciocca! Do not be silly. You improve it,” Primo takes your hands, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “Rosehips for the arthritis, il mio amore for the soul.” He brings your hands to his lips and you beam, turning your hands in his to rub gently at his aching joints. Primo smiles sweetly at you for the gesture, his grip tightening as he pulls you toward his little parlor set up in a corner of the greenhouse. 

You delicately step over pots, and watch out for his propagating babies, ducking under drying herbs, and avoiding bubbling beakers on bunsen burners. Primo walks amongst it all, well-practiced and unworried, depositing you with a kiss into your favorite high backed chair: pink, and patched, and plush. You sit contentedly as he sets about preparing fresh tea things, humming some old Italian love song as he takes out a tin of loose tea. “Il mio amore’s favorite,” he mumbles to himself with a small nod, shaking the tin as if to accentuate his point. 

“Four sugars, please!” You say, leaning back in your chair with a broad smile. Primo glances at you with a raised brow, placing the kettle on the hot plate. “Or maybe five, I’ll have to taste it first,” you continue.

“How about we make it two,” Primo chuckles, approaching your chair. He makes a gesture with both of his hands to rise, and you stand. Primo takes your seat and then slowly pulls you down onto his lap, adjusting you here and there so you’re both comfortable. “Don’t give me that pout.” His finger taps your bottom lip. “I won’t have you diluting the flavor.” 

You sigh, and in favor of replying, you nuzzle your nose into his cheek. You drape an arm loosely over his shoulders while your other hand becomes occupied greebling his ear. You press little kisses on his face, and Primo practically coos. His hands can’t decide where they want to touch, his fingers traveling up your spine, over your thighs, across your stomach. They eventually settle on cradling your face. Primo looks at you with unfettered adoration, his eyelids hooded and mouth drawn into a lovesick smile. 

“I do not know what I did,” he whispers. “To deserve you. But I will pray to Lucifer every day to keep you.”

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his gnarled hands on your cheeks. Your fingertips explore the wrinkled and rough skin of his face, the wiry white hairs which are barely hanging on atop his head, the divots across his forehead, and the sagging skin of his neck. Alyssum. Worth beyond beauty. Primo earned every line of his face from hard work, dedication, and a life as well-lived as any of us could wish for. And a love like his? Completely worth it.

oh silly little old people (i couldn't find a good reference and had to improvise a lot)

his tits are out