Hello! My name is Yami! This blog is full of random things like fandoms and other shit, with a focus on Ghost, Supernatural, Good Omens. Enjoy my craziness! Psst...Hey! Check out some of my other blogs! A Writing Blog!
Fandom: Ghost (The Band)
Pairing: Terzo x Reader (GN)
(Some terms of endearment are not strictly neutral, but there are no references to the reader's gender identity)
Age Rating: 18+ | references to sex and fellatio, no actual smut
Summary: Reader has a jaw/toothache, Terzo likes to think he has a theory on why.
Word Count: 1002
Notes: Thank you so very much to @angellayercake for always hyping me up and checking things for me!
The clock chimes midnight on the mantle, sitting between a statuette of Baphomet and a photo of Terzo with his brothers, on a holiday in Florence. You glance around Papa's bedroom as you often did in the quiet, noticing something new each time. It was a fun activity you had for yourself, like collecting pick-ups in a video game. Except, this wasn’t a game, it was real life, your life - Papa’s bedroom was not just his bedroom anymore, it was yours to share.
Much to your secret pride.
If you were being honest, it was a feat not to run through the Ministry's halls in jubilation, announcing to all that would listen that Terzo had asked you to make your presence in his abode more permanent.
The happy flutters in your stomach were most definitely a contrast to the jarring ache in your jaw, nerves throbbing with a constancy that set your teeth on edge. Though you had cause for celebration and contentment of late, the everyday stresses of keeping a Satanic movement in, well, motion had taken its toll.
Papa was due to go on tour, and whilst some might expect a tale of woe and a tearful farewell, no such scene would be occurring for you. No, you were the tour manager, or rather the ‘Papa and Ghoul Wrangler’ as some liked to tease.
This meant a lot of planning, spreadsheeting, and final checking. Long nights with your small team of siblings making sure everything happened when and where it was meant to happen.
As such, it had left you massaging at your face as you perched on the bed, funnily enough listening to Terzo's toothbrush. The rhythmic bristle and hum of the device is oddly comforting as your eyes settle on the bathroom light, its warm glow pooling beneath the door and onto the wooden floor in the bedroom.
Of course it wasn't the noises nor the proverbial beacon of light that settled you.
Obviously it was the fact that you were there with Terzo, the sounds of his contentment in getting ready for bed. He was whistling to the tune of Kiss From A Rose, which was an unlikely choice that made you smile.
You would take the aches under these circumstances, rather than being alone with them in your old digs, back in the sometimes claustrophobic sibling domiciles of the abbey.
“Is that my fault?” Terzo's voice breaks you from your thoughts, you make a noise of confusion before realising he was referencing your jaw.
His mismatched eyes are alight with mischief, you roll your eyes teasingly.
“Alright, tiger. Though we both know it's entirely possible for you to have caused this…sorry to say it was the handiwork of grinding my teeth as I went through yet more contracts earlier.”
Terzo tsks softly, coming to sit beside you, that mischievous expressions takes on natural hues of concern. He’s got his pyjama pants on, wonderfully hairy chest bare for you to use as a pillow in due course. He was fresh as a daisy from his shower.
Gentle, warm, hands rest on your cheeks, nimble thumbs work in circles along the contour of your jaw, easing some of that tension away.
It has you moaning in content.
If you weren't both so tired, the next words out of Terzo's mouth would have you mounting him right there, riding him until he needed another shower.
“It's a shame, amore. The only time your jaw should know any work is when you've had my coc-”
You hand clasps over his mouth as he tries to finish his sentence, laughter rumbling through him.
He kisses your palm as you keep your hand over his mouth, huffs of amusement puffing through his nose.
You whine, “My love, you and I both know you can't finish what you start tonight, the only thing we're accomplishing is rest, so let's leave that sentence for another night, per favore?” You beg sweetly, needing him to not tease for fear of being too horned up to fall asleep.
He nods, you slowly release your fingers from his lips.
“Sorry, amore, you know you drive me to distraction.” He sighs, so forlorn. You would almost feel sorry for him if the discussion were not about sex.
Terzo stands, taking you by the hands to lead you to the top of the bed to climb in.
“Besides…” he continues, “Who knows when I'll finish that sentence, hm? Could be exactly 8 hours from now once we've recharged.” He raises his eyebrows, smiling like a salesman who knows he's offered you an irresistible deal.
It earns him a swat to his delightfully firm behind, to which he yelps rather dramatically.
Before long you're both beneath covers, your head planted on Terzo's chest as scheduled, hairs tickling your cheek, an arm wrapped around him with one of his draped over you. Your fingers brush up and down his side, moving back and forth as you find the softness of his belly - it’s gentle, affectionate, surprisingly un-erotic. In kind Terzo plants light kisses to your hair, all between shared sleepy giggles from the both of you.
There's a slight giddiness at the thought of being recharged to have sex in the morning. It was something both of you would class as important enough to be on the official itinerary if necessary.
“Goodnight, Terzo.” You mumble, jaw ache all but forgotten as your extremities relax, his warmth blending with your own.
“Buonanotte, tesoro.” He hums, making sure you were right where you belonged as he squeezed you gently in his arms.
There's a beat of silence before Terzo's voice murmurs in the darkness, “Tesoro?”
“Mhm, yes, love?” You answer, only half awake.
“Are you thinking about my dick in your mouth?”
You make a disgruntled noise, lightly pinching gently at his side, “Go to sleep, Terzo.”
He sighs wistfully, nuzzling further into your neck, his leg slipping between yours. “Si, bellezza, see you in the morning then.”
The implication of the music video is: if you have a problem, try masturbating first. If that doesn't work, 1000 Hail Marys. After that your only option is Satan.
I haven’t drawn anything ghost related in years, but the new single has given me such an ear worm that I was compelled to make a whole comic page about it.
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