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Fallen from grace

Papa Emeritus IV/Copia X Fallen Angel!Reader

Warnings: a bit of angst, nudity, maybe an inaccurate take on fallen angels since idk much, blood, a bit of wings gore

Gender neutral reader(they/them pronouns)

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Copia was looking through the papers on his desk, face almost clean of all his makeup, except for some small bits he was too tired to wipe off. It was pretty late and he still hadn't gotten through all the paperwork he needed to finish, all of them in a pile on the side of his desk.

It was 11:30 PM as he started to doze off at his desk, head leaning against his palm. Unfortunately, he was woken up by what looked and felt like a small earthquake, his furnitures shaking for a second or two before it all stopped. The sudden shaking made the man almost jump off his chair, feeling a faint vibration in the ground, as if something entered in contact harshly with it. He didn't think much of it since it's probably something that fell.

He'd discover that he was almost right as he got up to get make sure everything was okay in his office, mumbles under his breathe.

"-damn it-" he cursed in Italian as he picked up some of his things that fell, bending down.

When he got back up(with a tiny bit of difficulty), his mismatched eyes widened and he tilted his head in curiousity as his gaze fell onto a scene behind the window.

As the only window he has in his office gives him view of the forest that surrounds the abbey, he could see something faintly moving near the abbey's ground, looking strangely like someone, something big dragging behind them. He couldn't see much as it's quite dark and but far, but he knew that he didn't want someone random coming here, plus, they looked like they may be in trouble or hurt as they don't move very fast, in the contrary, and they seem to halt sometimes. As they get closer and closer to the gate, Copia decides that he'll try to get to them before a ghoul can, not wanting a stupid act to get an innocent killed in error.

He knows it's not a good idea, but he can't help the gut feeling he has as he watches the figure slightly get closer with the minutes.

He got the dressed and made sure to carry something with him, even though hes got a feeling the person might not be dangerous.

He, as silently as possible, went out of his room, walking the corridors as silently as he can as go not wake up anyone. He rubbed his eyes tired as he passed some of the night owls sibling and ghouls, giving them small greetings when he passes them.

As soon as he got outside, he made a beeline for the place he saw the person last, the cold wind making him shiver. He ignore it, though, since his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He stopped in his track and exclaimed lowly when he saw the person was down in the grass, seemingly trying to bring themselves back up.

They had..... W-wings?? What the....

"Oh, Satanas...."

He stared at their bloodied back when he saw that they seem broken, white feathers bloodied, falling off and a bit ashy at the tips, almost as if burnt. He could hear a low, pained whine when the person turned their head towards him, probably feeling his starring. Even though it was dark, he could see clearly how they looked, and it all made sense as he saw their features... Their angelic features

He looked them over, not knowing what to say or do as he stayed still in shock, mouth agape. Their naked body was barely hidden behind their broken wings as they stared at him, eyes wide in confusion and filled with tears, probably from pain.

They were now sitting with their legs bent sideway before them, frowning at the satanic pope.

It was silent for a while as they stared at eachother, until the angel tried to get up, making Copia start to freak out as he saw how they seemed to be struggling, trying to get away and stumbling back down when they tried to get up.

"No no no no-" he said in a low and soft voice as he shook his head, holding his hands up to show he isn't a threat.

" Mi dispiace... Are you okay? May I help you?"

He kept his voice soft as he looked at them with worried eyes, gulping when they cleared their throat and eventually nodded, seemingly cautious.

He started by taking off his coat, putting it on them to try and give them a bit of modesty, which they only tilted their head at. He then made them lean on him, gently but firmly pulling them up. He wouldn't be able to carry them because of the oblivious broken appendages at their back, so he'd hoped that they would be able to walk with his help.

"So.... What's your name?"

~

Forget all the slow dancing, baby we can take it to the bathroom.

Transmasc!reader x Transmasc!

Terms used for reader and Copia are

Cunt, clit, dick, etc.

A/N: Oopsies anyway..This is my first time writing smut. Please for the love of god don’t bully me 😭

Warnings: Warnings: Finger-Fucking, afab!receiving oral (both ways implied.) Implied Thigh-crushing kink, kink, bondage (slightly), poorly translated Italian, implied choking, and use of sex toys due to the transgender boys not having bottom surgery.

In no time at all, you were pressed up against the sink in the bathroom. Papa Emeritus IV had you gripping the edges of the marble sink, his leather glove thrown onto the side counter. His hand was shoved down your jeans, rubbing furious circles into your swollen clit. You stared at your reflection, wondering how you got here. He tugged at your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Principe. So desperate for the touch of your papa.”

He only smiles behind you, before slipping his fingers fully into your slick-coated cunt. He pulls them out just as fast, running his tongue along his digits in an attempt to tease.

You only could groan, your thoughts becoming fuzzy as he continued to tease you through your tight jeans. One hand had a firm grasp around your neck, the other one rubbing against your core through your clothing. He flipped you around, so you were facing him.

“Good boy, Dolce. Do I have permission to eh- continue?”

He stumbles, his awkward demeanor still very present in his voice. You nod quickly, the tight feeling in your core tightening quickly.

“Fuck, Papa..”

You gasp as his fingers uncross the laces on your dress pants, only for him to realize you weren’t wearing boxers.

“God dammit, you truly are a filthy slut, huh? I like people who are bold, I’ll give you that-“

He snickers, picking you up and carrying you until you rest on his bed. He gets on his knees, pulling a grey shoe-box from under his bed. He pulls out a thick knot of red rope, glancing at you for your reaction.

You nod, anxious yet curious on what exactly he was going to do. He pulled your jeans off in one move, before glancing down once more at your face.

“Oh my gods, Copia please-“

You beg, as he ties your hands to his headboard. He backs away, now on his stomach in between your legs.

“I cannot wait to see how you taste, Rosebud.”

He smirks at the nickname, before diving between your legs and pressing a flat tongue against your dripping cunt.

is all you can muster, your thighs instinctively squeezing around his head. His eyes opened, green and white meeting your own gaze. His eyebrows knitted together as he moaned into your clit, his eyes rolling back and his hips jutting against the bed. You feel Copia’s hands snake around your thighs, gripping them as he continued drinking you down, licking and sucking at your swollen clit. It wasn’t too long before he pushed one of his hands through your thighs and into your hole, diligently working you to your limit. That knot in your stomach only got tighter, as you writhed against the restraints. As you squeezed tighter around his head and pulled his hair as he tongue-fucked you, his moans only grew rapid and his hips rolling against the bedsheets in an attempt to pleasure his neglected clit.

“Fuck, Copia.. I need to cum-“

You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes. He pulled your thighs away from his face, before kneeling between your legs.

“While I can’t fuck into you how I would like, I can give you a taste of what we can do.”

He sighed, unbuttoning his top and tossing it to the side, his torso becoming a quick attention-grabber. You stared at his T-scars, the 666 on his breast, the hair that trailed down to his untouched yet sopping cunt, everything. He groans, stripping himself of his jeans and boxers as he kneeled between your legs again.

“Tesoro, can I ask a favor of you?”

He tilts his head, running his hands up your hips.

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

He smiles, before undoing the restraints holding your hands from touching him.

“Can you return the favor, Caro Mio?”

You wasted no time, pushing his thighs apart and leaning your head down to taste his excitement for you.

You dive down between his thighs, sucking at his clit like a starving man. He grabs at your hair, forcing your tongue in his dripping wet cunt. “Yes Tesoro, oh fuck-”

You drill two fingers inside him, frantically pumping in and out of him. You run furious circles around his dick with your tongue, pulling more obscene noises from your beloved boyfriend.

“Good fucking boy, Baby. Taking my fingers so well.” You groan, his hips rolling to meet your face. He whines, his hips stuttering a moment. You land a harsh slap to his thigh, looking at the marks he put on you earlier and the ones you put on him. “Fuck, I’m gonna- I need to cum.” He crys out, and you feel a sudden tightness around your fingers. You get amusement out of this, as you grip his hips and lick against his dick. You get an idea, running slick circles into his slit as you look up at him. “If I let you cum now, you’re going to cum for me one more time after.”

He seems to take the offer, crying out as he’s yanked over the edge. You help him ride out that orgasm, before shoving your fingers down his throat so he could taste his own bittersweetness. “Fucking like that, whore? I’ll give you more, don’t worry.” You reach in the bedside drawer, pulling out two items. A purple vibrator, and a small towel. You place a light kiss against his earlobe, before whispering: “I’m going to make you cum so hard your wetness runs down your thighs.” He moans at that, before shoving his hands in your hair. You click on the purple toy, it vibrates in your hand. You look down at him, a slickness already covering his cunt. “So wet for me already, huh? I’m surprised you didn’t cum just from the sight of it.” You shove the toy into him, angling it to hit his sensitive areas over and over. He whimpers loudly, biting his lip. You land your mouth back on his overly sensitive dick, swirling around it with your tongue before giving it a nice suck. He moans, screaming your name loudly. “Shit- Shit..” You smile up at him, moving your hand a bit faster. “So fucking desperate, absolutley filthy.”

He groans, his hips stuttering. You remove your mouth from his clit, before going to bite along his jaw. You tease at his cunt with both the toy and your fingers, biting deeper onto his neck.

“You wanna finish so bad, don’t you? If you cum, I want to hear you loud and clear, got it?” He nods, panting and whimpering. You shove the toy against his deepest sensitive spot, before landing a harsh two-fingered slap to his dick, causing his orgasm to peak higher and ride out a bit longer. You watch his facial expressions closely, all while rubbing his thighs with your free hand. He lands his hands on his face, watching as he regains his mind.

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” He chuckles, covering his pink-painted face. He attempts to pull you down before you collapse to his side. You pull him close, petting his hair while you cuddle him. He sighs contently, before he loses consciousness in your arms.

"I Love you, Mio Cuore."

imagine the reader is in charge of the floral arrangements for a ritual of some sorts and is working on a big piece and slices their palm open from a missed thorn on a rose (this happened at work today and im dead 😭). What would Copia do when he finds them frantic trying to figure out what to do.

𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘢 𝘹 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 hc

pairings: copia x reader

warnings: blood, a cut, descriptions of a cut so maybe some gore

authors note: i don’t really know much about floral work but i thought id try!! i’m so sorry for this being so late, i forgot i had it in my inbox! anyways, enjoy!!

ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS AT THE BOTTOM!!

• so as soon as he walks into the room, he’s amazed by your work, he thinks it looks beautiful

• “sorella, this is…bellissima.. sembra mozzafiato”

• he’s looking around so excitedly, then he notices you.

• his eyes widen and his jaw hangs open slightly as he looks over the scene.

• blood is streaming down your forearm, coming from your palm. your other hand is shaking and hanging in the air beside your palm- as if not knowing whether to clutch your wound or to keep your distance. your eyes are very wide and your legs shake slightly, but it’s nothing in comparison to how your body is shaking and your chest is heaving.

• “copia, please..a thorn- what do i do?? it hurts and there’s so much blood, i don’t know what to do, why can’t it just stop??” you say, taking huge breaths in between your words

• copia pauses a moment then grabs a napkin from one of the table displays and rushes over to you.

• “it’s ok, amore, i’m here. be calm, take deep breaths.”

• he presses the napkin tightly against your palm and you wince in pain but you’re drawn closer to him, with his arms around you and him whispering “shhh”

• “Starai bene, bellissima. Stai calmo.” he whispers, his mouth pressed against your head.

• “eh- here, move your arm above your heart, it’ll um- slow the bleeding. it’ll be ok, cara mia.”

• you still are breathing heavily, though the bleeding is calming now, but now you feel bad. some blood has gotten through the napkin and now i’m copia’s skin. he doesn’t care, but you on the other hand feel awful.

• “i’m so sorry copia- i’m sorry. i was making an arrangement for the coming ritual and i guess i missed a thorn, so when i was putting the finishing touches on- it cut my palm. i’m so sorry, ill probably have to redo it!”

• copia pulled away from you, holding your shoulders and looking you in the eyes. for a moment, he didn’t say anything, but he had a sympathetic look in his eyes.

• “Ecco, ecco, tesoro. It still looks mozzafiato, er, beautiful. You did so good, I’m proud of you, sorella. May I see the cut, amore?”

• you peel back the napkin and show him. you can see the wince that flashes across his face as he takes in the damage. but he quickly puts on a soft smile and wraps an arm around your waist.

• “Shall we go get that cleaned up, sorella? I’d be happy to accompany you. I won’t leave your side, carissima.”

• you nod your head as he tenderly takes your wounded arm, keeping it raised above your heart, and keeping a hand on your waist so you stay calm. you two slowly begin to walk.

• “Bene, buon lavoro. Look at you, doing- erm- doing so well, as they say, eh?”

•Once you’ve gotten all cleaned up, you made it back to his room. He places you on his bed and gingerly caresses the skin around the bandage while sitting across from you.

• “Do you feel better, sorella?” he asks, and you can tell he’s truly worried.

• “Yes Papa. Copia. My dearest.” you reply, settling on the pet name since you couldn’t decide between Papa and Copia.

• “Bene.”

• He kisses your tear-stained face and pulls you in close, being careful not to hurt your hand. He kisses your cheeks, then your forehead, and lays you back to rest on his pillow. With a single gloved finger he traces the lines of your face, the outline of your nose, your eyes, your lips. Letting his finger glide gracefully and gently over the skin, like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

• The rest of the night was (as you may have expected) filled with loving and pampering.

• Before you knew it, both your hand, and your spirits felt way better.

• And hey, at the ritual you’d been doing the floral arrangement for, they turned out being a hit.

• Luckily no one noticed some of the red on one of the roses wasn’t just from it’s natural color-

authors note: hello!! sorry again that it took so long to make this, i hope you enjoy!! as always, requests are open!!

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Italian Translations:

Sorella - Sister

Bellissima - Beautiful

Sembra mozzafiato - It looks breathtaking

Amore - Love

Starai bene, bellissima. Stai calmo. - You’ll be ok, beautiful. Stay calm.

Cara mia - my darling

Ecco, ecco, tesoro. - There, there, darling.

Mozzafiato - breathtaking

Carissima - dearest

Bene, buon lavoro. - Good, good job.

Tied and begging

Copia x GN Reader

i'm too lazy to make a fic out of it, but we do love a begging papa so there it is :)

Warnings : sub Copia, ropes, edging ?, hand job

480 words

He's panting already and slick with his own sweat. There is red marks at the expanse of his tighs and his shins caused by the tightness of the ropes and his squirms. It must be uncomfortable for him to lay in such a position but he can't seem to bring himself to care anymore, not that he ever did anyway. If you could see his wrists tied behind his back, you'd see the red dots forming at the surface of his pale skin.

You admire him from where you're kneeling between his legs. His chest is red and so are the top of his ears and his whole face. Some rebellious strands of his beautiful hair are falling on his face but it only alleviate your will to play with him. He's just so pretty like that. So pliable. And just to please you.

He helplessly and almost against his will now rut his hips in the air once he loses your touch. 'Amore, please, please. Please. Let me cum, please.' He begs with shiny eyes.

'Ah !' He cries out in surprise when you start kitten licking at the slit of his cock. 'Amore ! I- I-,' His little voice sounds almost alarmed. 'I'm gonna cum ! Stop, please stop.' He shakes his head and closes tightly his eyes.

You retrieve off of him and look at the mess lying beneath you. He's all frustrated grunts and pathetic sobs. Some whines you never thought he was capable of doing before now when he wiggles his hips in the air. Little crescents are forming in his palms from where his nails are digging too deep.

After a few seconds of calm he tries to regain his breath but to no avail. As soon as he tries to inhale fresh air again you remind him of his burden. You grab his leaking cock and start to slowly pump him again. This knocks all the little air he had out of his lungs and Copia throw his head back in a pillow. His legs lock completely outstretched to meet your touch instantly.

'You're doing so good Copia, so good for me.' You keep a slow pace and give twists of your wrist when you reach the head of his cock. You lean down to kiss the 666 tattoo on his chest and he let out a long groan at the welcomed touch of your lips against his heated skin. You trail your kisses higher, passing by his neck and jaw until you reach his ear. Copia's breath comes in puffs and his chest rise quickly against yours.

'Cum for me, Papa.' You whisper.

Copia bites his lip to quiet his strangled moans. His eyes rolls back in his head from the raw pleasure of finally cumming. His stomach jumps with every contraction he has to offer in your hand, painting his stomach and yours with his own seed.