I’ve been really struggling to finish writing anything over the past few months, but this idea has been consuming me ever since the copia rizzchat on twitter was discussing it. So, for your enjoyment- approximately 1500 words of Copia being a 🐱 eating fiend. If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.
COPIA I-I REALLY LIKE YOU, YOU’RE REALLY HANDSOME A-AND IF YOU WANT WE CAN GO ON A
D-DATE..
SO..WHAT DO YOU THINK?
UMMM? HELLO?
RAT BOY RECEIVING HIS FIRST COMPLIMENT AND LOVE CONFESSION IN HIS LIFE:
Anonymous asked:
Could you do one where Copia teases the fuck out of the reader with dirty talk whispered in her ear, light touches on sensitive areas, and leaving her helpless to do anything about it? He knows all the right things to get her dripping wet for him. He makes her beg for it. It can be rough too, but he is still very loving and attentive to her needs. His little cocky smirks drive her crazy. Bonus if he cums first and still makes her wait... with eventual climax for her.
Whew, I like this idea… I got kinda carried away oops. Doing Copia as Papa in this because as Papa he’s more confident in my eyes! Aaaaand whilst he is attentive to her needs, it’s not until he gets what he wants because he know that it drives her wild 😏
Obviously MDNI, 18+!
Papa Emeritus IV x afab!reader
Warnings: Dom/sub dynamic, teasing, orgasm denial, dirty talk (fr don’t blame me for how filthy this got), use of derogatory terms like ‘whore’ (said with love, ofc) some spanking, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing, use of toys, aftercare.
“Tesoro, why do you squirm so, eh?” Copia’s breath felt hot on your ear, tickling the back of your neck from behind you. That heat spread through your body, pooling between your bare thighs.
Papa sat straddling the backs of your thighs, already having you nude and laying on your front atop the silk sheets spread out across his bed. His weight pinned you down, leaning fully clothed still against your back and holding your hands in one of his above your head. You couldn’t move if you tried, only squirm below him.
“Papa, please…” you begged, already so turned on that you were leaving a tiny little dark patch in the sheets below your core. “Please touch me!”
“Oh, cara mia, I am touching you, no?” he tightened his grip on your hands for a flash to prove his point. “Or does my little puttana(whore) need me elsewhere, hm?”
You wriggled beneath him, trying to raise your hips to say wordlessly where you needed him most. His free hand came down hard on your exposed ass in front of his hips; a warning. The leather of his gloves only added to the sting.
“So desperate already, tesoro? I haven’t done anything yet,” he chuckled darkly, nipping at your ear.
He raised from his sitting position, still hovering by your ear, and slid his hand down between the two of you, dipping a finger between your legs. He teased with a gentle drag through your wetness, barely enough to satiate any kind of yearning you felt for him. It drove you wild… You squeezed them together tightly, trapping him so you could rut against the friction, even just for the tiniest amount.
“Is that all you want, hm? You want your papa’s fingers between your thighs?” he asked, toying with your entrance. You whined in response, words failing you.
“Bad girl, only caring about your own pleasure, eh? What about your poor Papa?” he asked, removing his fingers and spanking the swell of your ass again. You yelped at the sudden sting.
Suddenly his hands were gripping the soft flesh of your hips, flipping you around to lay on your back in one sudden motion.
You lay quiet and unmoving, watching as he slipped his jacket off, tossing it to a distant corner, then rolling his sleeves up past his elbows, gloves staying on. He unlaced the front of his tattered pants, reaching in to pull his thick cock out, standing to attention above you.
“You want to make your Papa feel good, eh?” he asked, stroking his length lazily. You nodded eagerly, attempting to reach for him but he batted your hands away. “Not your hands, tesoro. I want your mouth,” he growled darkly, shuffling up your body until he straddled your chest. “In your own time, cara mia,” he smirked down at you.
You didn’t wait, craning your neck to take the head of his cock into your mouth. You hummed at the salty taste of his precum hitting your tongue, savouring the low rumble you heard emanate from him above you.
“That’s it, eh? Brava piccola puttana, (good little whore),” he growled, allowing you to swallow him down, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth at the awkward angle you lay. His head lolled back, eyes fluttering shut as his hips started to slowly roll, pushing his way further down your throat - only as much as you could handle, knowing all too well your limits and never pushing them.
As reward for your work, he reached behind him, tracing patterns on the softness of your tummy with his fingertips. His touch sent you wild, hips bucking towards his hand, just too desperate for more. He continued to tease, enjoying the desperate whines that vibrating against his cock.
“That’s my girl, eh? Taking your Papa’s cock so well, making him feel -ugh - so fucking good…” He was beginning to lose himself in the moment, you could tell. Copia always said the filthiest things when the pleasure was starting to overtake him. You loved his filthy mouth.
You let him thrust a little harder, knowing if it got too much all it would take was three taps to his thigh and he’d stop. But you didn’t want him to - the better you pleased your Papa, the faster he would touch you. And you needed him…
Your perseverance paid off, his hand sliding between your thighs to circle your clit. You couldn’t help the noise that spluttered out of your mouth around him, shooting vibrations against his length.
“Cazzo (fuck), tesoro… Your mouth feels so good, hm? So wet and warm for me, just like this pussy,” he narrated his exploration, dipping his finger down to your entrance to push a finger so easily past your entrance, curling up once, twice, before slipping back out to circle your clit again.
This was maddening… he was toying with you, denying you the pleasure you craved. He’d give you what you wanted, and take it away again just as fast. It wasn’t fair - but Copia knew you too well to know that it only served to arouse you more, and would eventually lead to a much better orgasm for you.
“I’m gonna cum down this pretty throat, tesoro,” he groaned, “you’ll take every drop I give you, eh?” You hummed an affirmative around his girth.
He slid his fingers inside you again, another curl upwards once, twice, three times, before slipping them back out and bringing them back to his lips, sucking your essence off as you watched from below him. You keened at the sight of your powerful Papa, sucking his fingers as he filled your throat.
“Always so sweet, I love the taste of you, amore mio,” he teased, slipping his band back between your legs.
His hips rolled above you, his cock messily pumping in and our of your mouth leaving trails of spit around your lips and chin. His groans turned guttural, a snarl ripping from gritted teeth.
“That’s it, take every inch… Brava piccola puttana(good little whore).”
With a final groan, he stilled, cock pulsing and jolting as spurt after spurt of cum erupted into your mouth. You swallowed around him, everything he gave like you knew he liked. The feeling pushed him into oversensitivity, hissing as he pulled his length from your mouth and shuffled back to allow you the room to breathe.
“You did good, Principessa (princess),” he praised, “time for your reward, eh?”
He reached to his side where he’d laid one of your many shared toys from his hidden box of delights - a g-spot stimulater with an attached clitoral vibrator. It was one of your favourites, giving you some of the most powerful orgasms you had ever experienced.
“Thank you, Papa.” You always knew what to say in moods like this, when Papa was feeling more dominant and confident within himself.
“Brava ragazza(Good girl),” he smiled, reaching behind him to push the toy into your entrance, and turning it onto the slowest of the settings.
Immediately you moaned, hips lifting from the bed to chase the feeling of the toy vibrating against your inner walls and clit at the same time. Copia was an expert now, knowing exactly how to use each of his toys on your to elicit the quickest and most powerful of reactions.
And so, as he draw the toy out of you and pushed back in, he tilted the angle to hit the spot that made you sing for him. Instead of pumping it in and out of you, he rolled it in place so your clit remained stimulated but the pulsing of his movement inside you added to the high.
“Good girls get to cum, cara mio, and you have been the best, no?” he praised. “Let’s see how fast you let go, hm? Don’t you hold back…”
He hit the button again, the vibrations strengthening and it was all you could do to writhe around under him, hips chasing his movements. It was almost embarrassing how fast your end approached you, but he had instructed you to cum when it happened, to not fight it. You would happily oblige.
When he changed the setting to the most powerful of the three, you damn near lost your mind, crying out a string of profanities and chats of both 'Papa’ and 'Copia’ as your orgasm washed over you. As you had so many times with this toy, your walls clenched and pussy squirted powerfully, your release explosive thanks to the build up and denial you’d faced all evening.
He chuckled as you came, proud of his work now that he’d finally allowed you to cum. He always loved when you squirted for him - he’d only wished his face had been the target in order to drink you in. Still, there was always next time…
With you spent and exhausted from such a powerful and sudden orgasm, Copia took the lead in cleaning up - removing the toy, wiping it down, scooping you up into his arms to wrap you in a clean blanket while he changed out of his outfit into a comfortable tracksuit. He lay back down with you once he’d removed his papal paints, curling you into his lap while he played with your hair with now bare hands, peppering kisses to your forehead.
“Ti amo, tesoro mio (I love you, my darling),” he whispered into your ear as you began to drift into a peaceful nap.
“Ti amo, my wonderful Papa,” you yawned, nuzzling into the clean linen smell of his shirt, eyes drifting shut in peace.
I hope it was kind of what you were after, or that you at least enjoyed it!!
Copia was used to fan mail - and by fan mail, he meant letters from his congregation
What he was not used to, was fragranced letters…
When he opened it, a waft of perfume hit his nostrils and tickled, triggering a sneeze.
As he began to read the extremely neat cursive, his heart rate climbed…
“I expect nothing but embarrassment to come from this, but I must confess, Papa…”
He skips ahead to where his crush had signed off with a little heart, and he springs out of his seat.
Surely not… he must be dreaming?
He’d been enamoured with you long before he became Papa, and he couldn’t quite believe you were confessing feelings for him?
By the time he finishes the five sides of A4 you had written to him, his heart is in his throat and his eyes wide and glossy.
No one had ever said such lovely things to or about him.
What does he do with this information? Should he write back? Should he run through the halls screaming about it? Should he hunt you down and fall to his knees before you to confess himself?
Before he knows what he’s doing, his feet are carrying him out of the halls and to the gardens where he knows you spend your mornings helping his fratello in his garden.
He finds Primo first, letter still in his hand. Primo is busy pruning some red roses, and when he sees Copia’s panicked face, he slows him down and asks what’s going on
“I must find her, fratello… Is she here?” “Try the greenhouse, fratellino…”
Copia goes to run, Primo stopping him in his tracks
“Here,” he hands him a rose to give to you with a wink, and he sets off again.
When he finds you in the greenhouse, alone, you startle at the commotion of him tripping over plant pots you hadn’t cleaned up yet.
Dusting himself off, he stands there, words failing him. You see your letter in his hand, and a sinking feeling overwhelms you.
“Y-you… I… I got you… this…” he pants, out of breath from running to find you and holds out the rose to you.
That sinking feeling is replaced by confusion. Hope was a cruel thing - you hoped it wasn’t false hope…
He catches his breath, and takes a step forward.
“Red is the romantic kind, sì?” he asks, always so unsure in romance. He’s twirling the fresh rose between his fingers.
You nod, smiling softly.
“Would… you like to join me for lunch today, Sorella?”
Copia who spends hours in the library researching topics he’s interested in, pushing his reading glasses up his nose every few minutes. Who listens to audiobooks as he falls asleep, who loves classic spooky tales and romantic stories to get lost in.
Copia who loves numbers and spends hours on budget calculations because they tickle his brain just right. Who works hard in his position as Secretary of the Treasury because they give him more than he can chew. Who still helps everyone when they can’t get the maths right because he’s such a patient teacher.
Copia who watches history documentaries all night when he can’t sleep. Who can give you the most random facts about historical events you’ve never even heard of before. Who spent hours reading about them and trying to understand what it meant for the people at the time.
Cinephile Copia who knows everything about classic horror and science-fiction movies, who has seen his favorites more times than he can count. Who gives you fun behind the scenes facts and mouths the dialogue when you watch them together. He explains it all so patiently to whoever wants to listen with so much genuine excitement in his voice because he’s just so happy someone else cares about his special interests.
thinking ab how the ghouls would react to seeing you hung over for the first time
mountain and swiss would both jump into mother hen mode. mountain would make you tea/coffee and get you a bunch of water and advil while swiss makes you a super greasy and good breakfast
dew and sunny are just as hungover as you and angry about being alive, they just whine with you and keep you buried in bed under all the blankets all day refusing to let you get up
aether and rain spent the entire night trying to tell you to slow down and know your limits, and are now both very smug and keep being like “yk what sounds so good rn? a giant rotten fish sautéed with cigarette butts.” they finally relent and feel a little bad when you start actually gagging and pull you into a hot shower to take care of you and wash your hair for you
phantom and aurora have both never been hung over, aurora seems to be immune and phantom is just heavily monitored when he drinks. so both of them are like “wtf is happening are you dying do you need to go to the infirmary” and then just sit there side eyeing you for like an hour bc they aren’t convinced you’re good.
cumulus and cirrus let you lay your head in their laps for as long as you want as they massage your head/neck/shoulders. they’ll just talk to each other quietly as you nap and let you relax for as long as you want, they’ll even keep the other ghouls quiet and the room dark for you to recover in peace
