#terzo headcanons
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Terzo x GN! Reader
A very kind person pointed out that I had a gendered term in here and I apologize if it took anyone out of the story. It has been fixed!
~6,200 words, contains diner shenanigans, dancing, and sad to happy Terzo.
You spend your evenings writing at the old diner in town, looking for your next great story idea. And then Terzo Emeritus walks through the door.
The neon diner sign of rocket red and electric blue illuminates the small parking lot and the few cars strung about haphazardly in their spots. Next to the dumpster in the back, a young couple attempts to get a few heated touches in before the back door swings open, sending them running while the whistling cook pours a bucket of grease into the grassy patch nearby. The few patrons inside sit on different ends of a diner that hasn’t changed a wink since it was erected, although the same couldn’t be said for the diehards who have been coming since their kids were kids or since they were kids. The lone waitress on duty pours another cup of coffee for an overworked cop, while a businessman in a booth runs a hand through his well-oiled hair, his eyes vacant while he comes up with another excuse for his wife as to why the paycheck is short again this week.
You make eye contact with a young boy sitting at a table with his sister and parents. He smiles at you, and your lips curve in a genuine one yourself. There’s a diversity here. That’s the reason you keep coming back, although the cheeseburgers certainly make their own argument. You make a silly face at the boy and wink, his smile broadening as he giggles before turning back to the chicken nuggets his mother is trying very hard to get him to eat. You take a breath and rub your fingers against your palms before turning back to your laptop, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you regard the blank document.
Writing is so damn difficult, and honestly, you wonder how James Patterson gets away with publishing a hundred books a year. At this point, we all know it isn’t him writing. No, the real writers are out here, plugging away in old diners and trying not to go insane. At this point, you don’t even know where the plot is going, and you regret not making an outline. But you need ideas for outlines and you’re fresh out of them.
“I should just go back to writing fanfiction,” you mumble, resting your chin on your hand while sighing in frustration.
The dainty ring of the old bell above the door draws your attention to the front, and you watch with interest as the newest addition to this motley crew enters. You’ve never seen him before. In the weeks that you’ve made this place your writing home, you’ve gotten to know most of its patrons. They’re typical small town people with problems, just like you have problems, but they’re the type of people who always have a good morning on the tip of their tongue and call you honey. But this guy. Boy, did he break the mold.
He’s older, maybe above 50, close to 60. The wrinkles around his eyes and forehead are cut deep, and it draws your writer’s curiosity to wonder if they’re from laughter or pain. His face is set in a neutral expression as his eyes scan the diner, and you feel yourself inching forward in your seat, squinting a little.
Am I seeing right? you think, watching as the man moves toward the counter. His left eye looks strange, milky from where you’re sitting, and you immediately conclude that he must be blind in one eye.
You quickly look away and down at your table, your eyes a little wide. Judging much? you scold yourself. Jesus, get a grip. You’re not that damn bored.
Despite your internal reproach, your eyes flicker back up to watch the man as he takes off his jacket and lays it over one arm, politely waiting for the waitress to turn around as she refills the coffee pot. He’s wearing a dark purple button-up, sleeves rolled up to expose dainty wrists and forearms covered in dark hair. He’s that dark and debonair type, his hair that kind of black that’s almost unnatural, probably dyed. His bangs fall into his face, a long-fingered hand coming up to brush it away from his eyes. Your eyebrows raise as the errant lock of hair settles in a perfect wave with its brethren, unmoving. So the handsome older stranger has perfect hair, entirely unsurprising and very much appreciated.
You quickly glance down at your laptop when his eyes sweep across the room, likely looking for a place to sit, and you’re faced with your blinking cursor once more. Ignore the most interesting person you’ve seen walk in here in weeks, and write your damn story.
“Hello, how are you doing?” His accented voice floats across the diner.
Fuck it.
You watch him greet the waitress with a smile, his arm not holding the jacket coming up to rest on the counter as he casually leans, crossing one foot over the other. Penny, the poor woman caught in the clutches of that peculiar stare, flounders like a fish for several seconds before asking what she could get him. You try to peg his accent as he asks for black coffee with a squeeze of lemon, but all you can think about is how lovely the words sound coming out of those full lips. At this point, you begin to wonder if you’re in heat.
“You sure you don’t want cream, honey?” Penny asks him, pouring his coffee in one of those chipped porcelain mugs.
“No, thank you. I am lactose intolerant,” the man chuckles lightly and presses a hand to his stomach. “It will come back like a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Penny frowns.
“Eh, to haunt me. Stomach troubles. This is what I get for trying English phrases, no?”
“Oh. Right,” Penny laughs a little uncomfortably and slides his coffee across the counter. “That’ll be a dollar fifty.”
The man slides a twenty across the counter and smiles pleasantly at her with a quiet, lilted, “Keep the change, per favore.”
He turns and makes his way to a table about two away from yours, and reaches into the pocket of his jacket. He pulls out a small notebook, moleskin, and leaves the jacket draped over the empty chair beside him before taking a seat. Your eyes peer over the top of your laptop, watching as he warms his hands on his cup for a moment, just staring into the mug with an unreadable expression. There is something sad about him, something you can’t quite put your finger on. Honestly, you shouldn’t be trying. It’s rude. You’re rude. And the poor man probably just wants to enjoy a cup of joe before going home for the night.
As he lifts the mug to his lips, his eyes catch yours. His left eye isn’t milky, the iris is entirely white, pupil like a pinprick. God, you just wanna fling your laptop across the room. You are so goddamn nosy, and look what happened. Embarrassed, and thoroughly blushing, you look away for a moment before compelled, you return his odd gaze. He smiles at you and tips his mug in greeting before taking that first sip which prompts a satisfied sigh to escape that perfect mouth and you want to die.
You start to type on your keyboard, nonsensical stuff to make it look like you’re working and not obsessing, but all you can manage to write is, “I am as thirsty for this old man as he is for his cup of coffee.” Oh my god, delete that now. What is wrong with you?
I’m never leaving my apartment again, you think. I’m not doing it. He’s been in here for 10 minutes and I am acting like a looney toon.
Taking a deep cleansing breath, you take a big bite of your nearly cold cheeseburger like a feral animal before cracking your knuckles, determined to get back to your story. You begin to write a descriptive opening for the scene, and as the story progresses, seemingly slipping from your brain to your fingers to the document on the screen, you decide that it’s going to be a romance. Perhaps entirely inspired by the man a few tables away from you, but hey! That’s the reason you come here. It’s paying off.
Your eyes unwittingly fall on the man once more, and he’s hunched over the little notebook, a pencil in his hand as he writes. His lips move, silently reading along with each stroke of his pencil, and he more than once has to brush that bang away from his forehead, causing a smile to light your face. Not so perfect hair after all. Ah well, who are you kidding? Even the messy bang is its own perfection.
His fingers rise to his face and he pauses for a moment as if he’s remembering something before shaking his head a little with a barely perceptible smile and scratching his nose. He heaves a sigh and looks about the diner again, his eyes falling on the sign that claims the diner sells Pepsi fresh. You watch his eyebrows turn in, deepening the wrinkles which pucker above the bridge of his nose, giving him an angry look which coupled with his white eye could make anyone shiver in intimidation.
The family sitting nearby finish their meal and stand up, the kids talking exuberantly as they put their jackets on. The little boy runs ahead of his parents and nearly trips, the man on instinct half-standing, his chair scraping across the linoleum as he makes a small lunge toward the boy in order to prevent his falling. The kid rights himself without help, and looks at the stranger with a nervous, wide-eyed stare.
“It is alright, little one. I fall very often,” the man says with a soft smile, making a show of nearly tripping and falling back into his seat with an “oof!” The little boy starts to giggle, and you feel your own cheeks heat as you watch them interact. It’s so incredibly sweet, and the way the man’s eyes shine as he nods the family out the door makes you wonder if he has his own children at home. Likely grown. But the lack of a ring on his finger says otherwise, although…that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
Your stranger turns back to his notebook and picks up his pencil, taking another sip of his coffee with his free hand. When he presses the lead to the page, it snaps. He stares down at the broken piece for several seconds before his hand curls into a fist, and it looks as if he may throw the pencil across the room in the very same way you considered throwing your laptop. His expression changes, no longer soft and sweet as it was with the boy, or politely curious. It crumbles as if he was just given bad news, his mouth cutting a severe line. That bang falls into his face, and he doesn’t bother to push it away, letting it hang limp in front of his eyes that are hollow, vacant.
And then he looks up. And it’s gone. He looks only minorly inconvenienced, his gaze once more falling on you. He leans across the table slightly, an arm reaching across the expanse as he attempts to catch your eyes which are hyper focused on your laptop. You are the master of being inconspicuous, for sure.
“Excuse me? May I bother you for a moment?” Such a basic question, and yet his accent caresses each word with a musical quality.
“Hi, yes?” You inquire, finally meeting his gaze. If there ever was a moment to ‘audibly swallow’ as so many fanfictions describe, it would be now.
“Well, I must have a very strong grip because my pencil broke before I could get a single line on paper,” he says, holding up his broken pencil. “And as my brother would say, I do not have a brain, and forgot to bring another.”
He pauses for a moment to admire your amused smile at his words which bolsters his own. He gives a little shrug, “He also says to get out of my room and write, but I cannot do so without a pencil, sì? I end up bothering a lovely young person like yourself who have better things to do than entertain such an old chatterbox.”
“Is there a question in there?” You tease, arching a brow. You tilt your laptop screen down to better see him, and you don’t miss the way his eyes scan your face.
He puts his hands up and you take note of a signet ring on his right hand, but from this angle, you are unable to see the symbol adorning it. “What did I say, huh? I talk too much. My question is, do you have a pencil? Or a pen, if it is not too much trouble.”
“Are you a writer?” You ask, picking up your bag to rummage through for the pen you know is hiding at the bottom.
“Perhaps it is one of many things I do.”
“Perhaps?” You find the pen, and pull it out, scooting back from your chair.
“No, no, please don’t get up,” he says, slipping from his chair to approach you. You feel a rush in your chest as he comes to stand beside you, your head tilting up to meet his eyes, immediately entranced by the lovely shade of green in his right one.
“One would have to write to be a writer, no?” He continues, lightly taking the pen from your hand. His ring has the sigil of Lucifer carved into the face.
“Which is what you were doing, until your pencil broke,” you point out.
“It is more of a hobby than a profession.”
“A writer is a writer no matter if you do it day, night, or in between time spent staring into the void,” you say, your eyes returning to your half-closed laptop.
“Ah, I am familiar with the void,” the man chuckles softly.
“Hell?” You question, your gaze once more falling to his ring.
His handsome features turn confused for a moment, following your gaze before stretching out his fingers and making a small noise of acknowledgement. “Ah, my ring! Sì, sì,” he laughs again, turning his hand this way and that to admire the gold. “Do you believe Hell is a void?” He asks you then.
“I don’t believe Hell is particularly anything,” you return, watching as he pulls out the chair next to you, pausing for a moment to give you a questioning look before you nod, and he settles himself in.
“What if I told you Hell is a beautiful place?” The man asks.
“Are you preaching?”
“Preaching is one of the things that I do,” he shrugs.
“Usually one introduces themself before trying to convert another to their religion…or cult?” You smirk.
His eyebrows fly up into his hairline and his full bottom lip drops open. There’s a beat of a second before those fingers are once more running through his dark hair as he leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I am being not very nice,” he shakes his head. “You can call me…Terzo. And no, I am not trying to convert you. And no, it is not a cult.” He slaps his lips, waving his hand around like a conductor. “Okay, maybe it is a cult, but it is a good one!” He pauses. “Sometimes.” He pauses again. “It is trying to be.”
“Interesting,” you say slowly.
“I am bothering you,” Terzo mumbles, placing his hands on his thighs as he moves to stand. “Mi dispiace. Sorry. Sorry.”
“Hey!” You reach out a hand to touch his arm. As your fingers wrap around his wrist, the both of you freeze - you in your seat floundering like a fish and Terzo half-standing, the oddest expression on his face. You quickly let go with a small apology before saying, “I meant interesting as in actually interesting. I’m interested.” The last part comes out almost like a quiet plea.
Terzo nods slowly and sits back down, his knees cracking as he does. He gives you a weak smile as he reaches a hand down to rub at one absently. “Do not get old.”
“Are you Italian?” You question.
“What gave it away?” He teases, arching a bushy brow.
“Accent and interwoven Italian words aside, it was your name. Terzo means third, right?”
“Do you know Italiano, uh…okay, now you are the rude one not giving me your name, huh?” He smiles.
You laugh and hold up your hands, “You got me.” You provide your name, and Terzo lights up, tilting your pen still clutched in his hand toward his chin. “What’s that sneaky expression for?” You add.
“Names have power, don’t you know? You have given me a gift.” He wiggles his foot, tapping the pen against his chin.
“Are you going to take my name back with you to your non-cult cult?” You reach out to close your laptop the rest of the way, wholly invested in this conversation.
“Only if the owner comes with it.” He leans forward, a glint in his white eye.
“Ha! Knew it. You are trying to convert me.”
The both of you break into easy laughter, and you notice that Terzo’s smile has finally reached his eyes, so unlike the half-smile built into a blank face he provided Penny earlier, or the melancholy which overshadowed his playfulness with the little boy. His smile is crooked, wide, and his eyes wrinkle deeply at the corners. It’s sweet, and so very beautiful.
“You did not answer my question,” Terzo continues, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Do you know Italian?”
“Ah, no,” you laugh shyly. “I just know primo, secondo, and terzo mean first, second, and third. Among other random vocabulary.”
“Well, you just named three men of the Emeritus family.”
“Emeritus? Is that your last nam-…wait,” you arch a brow. “I named them?”
“Eh sì, my eldest brother Primo, then Secondo, and myself. My fratellino is Copia, he was spared the numerics,” Terzo shrugs amusedly.
You start to speak and then stop, looking down at the table, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you fight a smile.
“I realize it sounds ridiculous. Our father, as Copia likes to say, is a dickhead,” Terzo supplies.
“Okay, it’s funny,” you concede, grinning. “But it’s not…it’s not bad. Terzo is a very lovely name. I like it. After all, three is considered the perfect number. Full of magic.”
“I have been known to carry a few tricks up my sleeve,” Terzo says with a charming smile. “Do you believe in magic? In the alteration of space and time? Conjuration, for example.”
“I believe that there are things in this world that we don’t fully understand.”
“Ah! And Hell is so hard to believe?”
“I don’t know. I guess if I had to believe in something, it would be what you said. That Hell is beautiful. I’d want it to be accepting of flaws. And mistakes. Lucifer was the original rebel, right? I don’t want to believe in a place of pain,” you say, unable to believe that you’re discussing the afterlife with this man, virtually a stranger. Really, you can’t believe you’re talking to him at all. Your night at the diner is certainly not the quiet, uneventful one you expected it to be.
Perhaps a new story began the moment Terzo Emeritus walked through that door.
“That is a Christian concept. And excuse me, fucking wrong. I know this, I am Papa,” Terzo delivers this line as if he’s done it a hundred times and believes it to be one hundred percent true.
“Papa?” The word comes out of your mouth as if he just announced himself as “big daddy” to the entire diner.
Terzo’s expression drops in an instant. The confidence he exuded moments before melts away, his fingers twitching and tapping against the table with a nervous air. He tries to smile, but it wobbles, becoming a strange half-frown. “Forget I said that,” he says. “Per favore, eh…please.”
“What are you trying to write?” You ask, gesturing toward his little notebook which still sits at his table, closed. Terzo gives you a small smile of thanks before getting up and collecting his things, returning to your table to sit and open his notebook to the page he was working at.
He wags a finger at you. “Big mistake inviting me to sit, now I won’t fuck off. Dispiace. I say fuck a lot. And shit.”
“Every writer needs a colorful vocabulary.”
“Ah, sì. And you are so intent on hiding yours, huh?” He makes a playful grab at your laptop. You almost shout in alarm, pulling it back, before looking apologetically around the diner. Penny squints at the both of you suspiciously. Terzo snickers beside you, his hand to his mouth.
“It’s not done,” you hiss quietly.
“You expect me to show you mine then, tch tch tch!,” Terzo shakes his head. “Have you ever heard of a little tit for tat, darling?” Terzo’s smile widens and he ducks his head to try and peer under your half-closed screen which you swiftly close with a click. He tilts his head, gazing at you from beneath long lashes. “Is it erotic?”
You give him a withering look, your cheeks flushing a pink that makes his eyebrows raise with a gentle smile that replaces his teasing smirk. He appears fascinated, his eyes scanning your features for several seconds. You have no words for the sudden change in his demeanor, and you look at him with equal quiet reverence. Something unknown passing between the two of you.
“I should not tease you,” he says then, his voice a few octaves lower. “I never show my writing to anyone, well…that is going to change soon.”
“Why’s that?” You ask, your gaze falling to his notebook where his messy cursive loops across the page, rendering you unable to read it from your position at the table.
“If you must know, curious thing, I am writing a song. I am a musician. A singer,” he says, bending his hand at the wrist which he flings to the side with a grandiose flair.
“Really?” The incredulity in your voice makes him frown at you, a bushy eyebrow arching.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“No! No, it’s not that. I just would think as a songwriter, you would sing or…like someone would have heard your work at some point. Why keep it a secret?”
“You are full of questions, volpino,” he says with a little smirk, tilting his head to regard you with amused eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you answer immediately, shying away from his gaze. “I guess I’m prying pretty hard. Tit for tat, right?”
“I never said your curiosity was unwelcome. Believe it or not, but I like to talk about myself,” he winks, and it makes you laugh. Terzo closes his eyes and hums a little.
“I’m writing romance. Which, I know. Not exactly original.”
“Che cosa?” His eyes open and he shakes his head. “Not original, pah! Some of the greatest works in the literary canon are romances, yeah?”
“I can hardly write like Jane Austen,” you scoff.
“Sì, but perhaps you are more like a Brontë. Ah no,” he snaps his fingers. “Mary Shelley.”
“Frankenstein isn’t a romance,” you say, laughing softly as he holds up both of his fingers, leaning forward in his chair.
“Then you are not reading it correctly,” he says, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment which momentarily distracts you. “Who do you believe is the true monster? Victor or the Creature?”
“Victor,” you answer immediately.
Terzo smiles and nods, gesturing at you with his hand. “Then it is a romance. Albeit, a tragic one.”
“The Creature wanted to be loved,” you say quietly, looking into Terzo’s eyes, and unintentionally focusing on the white one. “They saw him at face-value, not the soul who celebrated nature, who yearned for purpose, and was cast out by the man who was supposed to be his father.”
“Exactly,” Terzo whispers, nodding slightly. That heavy melancholy was back, settling over the lines of his face like a shadow which he hid behind a mask of easy smiles and witty banter. His Creature.
“Are you okay?” You finally ask, unable to hold yourself back when this mysterious and beautiful man looks so incredibly sad. If you were being honest with yourself, there is something about his melancholy that feels familiar to you, like a beast you are too afraid to poke.
Terzo merely smiles, and leans his head back to laugh a little, rubbing his hands together before picking up his notebook. “Sì! I am always okay. Always good. You asked me about my song, correct?” He enunciates the word, landing hard on the ‘T’. “It is called Zenith. I am not usually the songwriter of my eh…little group. This is a first. And I expect it will not go over well.”
“Go over well with whom?”
“Now you are asking the right questions, volpino. There are…individuals, hmm…authority figures in my organization. Let me rephrase that - there are individuals in my organization who think they have authority. They have to approve the song.”
“And you think they won’t?” You ask, suddenly feeling like you are hearing things that perhaps you shouldn’t be privy to. Secrets unraveling, another chapter of this mystery opening the more the man talks.
“Perhaps they do not like me very much,” Terzo says wryly, a dry smile on his lovely features.
“I don’t see how anyone could dislike you,” you say, that pink touching your cheeks again. Your words make Terzo chuckle quietly, and he rests his elbow on the table as he brings a thumb to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the tip of it as he looks at you with nearly hooded eyes.
“Do you like me?” He asks softly.
The old jukebox in the corner, its light flickering faintly, comes to life with a squeaking click as one of the worn tracks slides into place. It takes a moment for the speaker to push out the song, crackling before settling into a low static hum behind the vocals of none other than Frank Sinatra.
“I love this song,” Terzo says, looking pleasantly surprised as he stands and strides closer to the jukebox, placing his hands on the glass to peer closer at the inner workings of the old thing. You breathe a small sigh of relief, or is it disappointment, as you dodge his question.
“That thing turns on by itself all the time. Something inside must be busted,” you say, standing up to move beside him.
“Ah, not broken. Simply yearning to sing, sì?” He says, glancing over at you with an amused smile. “You know this song?”
“Frank Sinatra?”
“Molto bene, mio volpino.” Terzo takes a step back from the jukebox, a hand pressing against his chest as he tilts his head up and closes his eyes. “Over and over I keep going over the world we knew,” his voice floats effortlessly, soft and persuasive, in the space between you. “Days when you used to love me.”
You watch him sing with parted lips, your brow furrowing as you’re filled with awe, but also an ache deep in your chest. A yearning for the strange man you fear will disappear from your memory forever when you leave this diner. He opens his eyes and pins you with a stare, his smile very soft, but quirks in a way which whispers mischief. Terzo holds his hands out to you, fingers curled slightly as he tilts his head to the side. “Dance with me?” He says, his tone gently demanding. “With Papa now, sì?”
“That’s the second time you said that,” you note with a small grin, reaching out to place your hands in his. His fingers are chilled as he pulls you in, a hand naturally falling to your waist. Your breath catches, and he smiles.
“Ah, slip of the tongue,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning the blush on your features.
“Something you do often?” Your voice is a little breathless as he turns the both of you, and you look down at your feet, chewing on your bottom lip as you beg whatever deity out there to not step on his.
Terzo lets go of your hand for a moment to gently tap your chin. “Eyes up, tesoro. And as for your question…,” a wide smile crosses his face, a tiny chip in his front tooth. “I use my tongue very often.” His pink tongue wets his bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth for a moment before slowly and sensually letting go.
Your eyes widen and you giggle nervously, “You are…something.”
“Something good?” His eyes flicker with amusement before his mouth pops open in a little ‘O’ shape. “Ah, yes! You never answered my question.” He pulls back to spin you around, laughing again when you do an awkward little turn on your heel. He draws you even closer then, his hand flexing against the small of your back. “Do you like me?”
“We just met.” Your voice is small, and your eyes focus intently on the dark chest hair peeking out from his purple button-up.
“Sometimes meeting is all it takes,” he murmurs.
Your eyes find his again, and you don’t think you’re dancing anymore, but you’re still swaying - your heart, your mind. Swept up in the softness of his eyes as they look back at you with…hope. Glaring desperately from green and white depths. The vestiges of a younger, happier man. And there’s a part of you that wants to cry.
“I like you very much, Terzo Emeritus.”
His response isn’t what you expect. His head raises slightly and he peers at you with curiosity, his brow furrowing as he searches your eyes for some kind of answer to a question you aren’t privy to. You get the sense that he doesn’t believe you, that he’s waiting for the punchline to some cosmic joke. “Well!” He says finally, his face dropping back into that easy smile. He waves a hand. “I am an old man. Do you see? I moisturize but,” he clicks his tongue. “The lines, they grow. I appreciate you entertaining me, eh?”
Your brow furrows and your mouth presses into a thin line as you gaze past him with the intent to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “You think I can’t like you because…you have wrinkles?” The word comes out slightly high pitched and confused. “Make it make sense, Mr. Emeritus.”
Terzo’s bushy eyebrows fly into his hairline and he looks vaguely disturbed. “I am not called that often…it is weird.”
“Oh, right. You’re Papa,” you wiggle your brows, and the man groans. His fingers dig into the small of your back and he pulls you closer, dipping his chin to regard you with a heated stare that sends a shiver down your spine.
“You should be careful with that, amore,” he murmurs, his voice low like the crackling of firewood, flames licking over the endearment. “I could have you saying ‘Papa’ in a more…breathless manner, hmm?”
His words alone are enough to knock the wind out of you, and he knows it, a twinkle in the man’s eyes that tells you this isn’t his first passion play. The song is long over, the jukebox having gone back to its eerie nostalgic silence, yet he turns you again, his shoes sliding along the faded linoleum floor like butter. You are, perhaps, less graceful.
“I thought you were too old?” You ask him, narrowing your eyes. Terzo looks briefly affronted, and the nearly outraged expression on his face makes you burst into giggles. He wags his finger in front of your face before placing both of his hands around your back, lacing his fingers together and drawing you forward until your hips are flush. That shuts you up very quickly.
“I know what you are doing,” he purrs. “But I can play, too.” He smiles and sighs, looking up at the cracking ceiling before returning your gaze. “And yet I see your point. But it is true, volpino. I am much, much older than you.”
“I think whether or not I’m bothered by that is my decision, don’t you?” You ask.
Terzo concedes, tilting his head a little. “In my faith, it is encouraged to follow your desires.”
“Oh, right. Your non-cult cult. How could I forget,” you tap your finger to your temple and Terzo chuckles. You smile back, wrapping your arms around his neck. A million possibilities, a million ways the night could have gone, and you got the one with Terzo. Your smile softens, your eyes taking on a tender reverence, and you can see pink dance at the edges of his cheeks. His wrinkles smooth as his face falls into almost boyish wonder while the two of you sway to nothing. No, that’s not right. You’re swaying to a music all your own.
“You have a really nice face,” you murmur, your voice coming out in a soft hush.
“You aren’t lying.” It’s said as a statement. Confusion lining his words, his eyes widen just a fraction. This isn’t the first time in the night where you wanted to just…ask him if he’s okay? Hug him. Your words appear to confound him, and a hand lets go of your waist to touch his cheek, his fingers following one of the deeper lines. “You know, in my line of work, I usually wear a full face of makeup.”
“Is this where you tell me you go by…Paprika Smear or something?” You tease, eyebrows raised.
Terzo laughs so hard, everyone in the diner, who isn’t already watching you like you’re the first interesting thing to happen in decades, are gaping now. Penny hasn’t turned the page in her National Enquirer in the last ten minutes. “No, no, no. Ah, my naughty volpino. What I am trying to say,” he clears his throat. “I do not show my face often. What you said…grazie mille. I am often not kind to myself.”
“I have no reason to lie. We just met, Terzo. This is my perception of you. My honesty. I feel like you’re looking for a different answer or…looking for deception.”
“I am looking for something real,” he says, with vulnerability in his eyes. “It has been a very long time since I have had something real.” Terzo releases your waist and removes your arms from around his neck, but he holds your hands in his. His thumbs rub circles into your skin, admiring the contrast of your hands together, and he brings them closer, cradling them near his chest.
“I can be real,” you say, turning your hands to lace your fingers through his despite his tight grip. Terzo takes a deep breath, his lower lip quivering slightly as he thinks.
“And if I told you to know me is to know Satan? If there are dangers in my life, amorino? Things your beautiful, sweet mind could perhaps not comprehend?” His voice has turned nearly desperate in his speech, pained. And yet despite his warnings, you don’t feel afraid, or concerned. There are no red flags waving over Terzo’s head. You just see someone very alone.
The shrill ring of a cell phone slices through the tension like a heated blade, and the two of you freeze for a moment before Terzo sighs, heavily, his shoulders falling like rocks have been placed on his shoulders. He gently pulls away from you, his hands lowering yours back to your sides before he’s digging into his pocket. “Sì?” He snaps into the phone, listening to the voice on the other end. “Perhaps I am not ready to come back…because I am Papa and I say so…of course I understand!” Terzo runs a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up in a few places. “You tell that stronzo he can wait…ah-but…dai!...alright, alright. I will see you soon.”
Terzo puts his phone back in his pocket, and looks at you with an apologetic smile. “It seems our dance comes to an end, eh?” You stand facing each other, and panic seizes your heart in a fist. If Terzo walks out that door, you may never see him again. It almost strikes you as odd, the way he managed to wrestle his way into your very being in your short evening here at the diner. There was no feasible way you could sit back down and go back to writing, surrounded by the same monotony while this man is somewhere in the world.
“You know,” you begin, taking a step toward him. “I’ve been really into theistic Satanism lately. Gosh, if only there was a place, or someone, that could guide me.”
Terzo stares at you with an unreadable expression, and then he takes a step forward, and places his lips against your forehead. He chuckles softly, “My evil plans worked, volpino. I am converting you.” He pulls back to wink. “You like me.”
“I already told you that-”
“Sì, sì, I am only teasing,” his smile broadens and he smooths back a strand of hair from your forehead. “This is a big thing for Papa, no? Something real.”
“You’re going to have to tell me why you keep calling yourself that,” you giggle, shaking your head. Terzo’s fingers cradle your jaw and tilt your head to meet his gaze.
“Come and find out.”
Another look is shared between the diner writer and the mysterious stranger. But this one? It’s a look of yearning. Yearning for a future that changes the both of you. That a man can learn to love himself again. That the walls of this diner will let you go. Terzo grabs his jacket and his little notebook, and you slip your hand into his pocket to grab his phone.
“Already, amore?” He says, his grin wide, and you laugh and swat him with a hand. You type your number into his phone and slip it back, but Terzo grabs your wrist. He brings your hand to his lips and gently kisses the soft skin. “I will see you soon,” he promises.
“Arrivederci, Terzo,” you sigh dreamily.
“Eh, we will work on your Italian,” the man rolls his eyes playfully.
Terzo walks toward the door of the diner, and you sit in your seat. Is it possible to change in a single evening? You don’t feel like the same person who watched this man walk in with the perfect hair and pretty accent. And you get the feeling that he isn’t the same person now either. Terzo stands in the doorway, looking back at you, and he smiles. A smile that lights up his whole face, and is really, truly…happy.
When he’s gone, you open your laptop and stare at the pages you had written earlier. With a wry smile, you shut your laptop off and gather your things. Walking to the front, you toss a few bucks on the counter.
“Gettin’ cozy with that eye-talian man, huh, honey?” Penny asks, chewing her bubble gum as she looks you up and down with the eyes of a seasoned gossip. “Be back tomorrow?”
Your phone buzzes and you glance down, grinning before taking a breath and looking back at Penny, the diner, and its forever patrons.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus iii fanfiction#terzo fanfiction#terzo emeritus#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#reader fanfiction#terzo headcanons#the band ghost headcanons
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the "you're as beautiful as the day i lost you" but it's omega to terzo actually-
#im crying#wtf#they#ghost#ghost band#shitghosting#ghost hcs#headcanons#ghost headcanons#omega ghoul#ghost ghouls#terzo emeritus#terzo#papa emeritus iii#terzo headcanons#omega headcanons#terzomega#terzo x omega#ghost ship#mlm#my tag#cmhcny#hallucinating at this point#delulu even#sobbing
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Terzo becoming a dad of twin girls!! Pweaaase? 🥰
dad! terzo w/ twin daughters
(implications of female reader)
this was so fun to write! thank you, anon! 🥺i hope you enjoy and it didn’t disappoint! <3
he absolutely cries when he finds out you two are having twins.
he’s so nervous. worried he won’t be a good father. these babies haven’t even been born yet and they’ve become his whole world.
you have to eat more during a twin pregnancy. this man FEEDS YOU.
i feel like he can cook. he’s always making you the best (italian) food, making sure you’re eating enough.
he does so much research he ends up knowing things YOU didn’t know.
he’s always nose deep into some parenting book or staying up in the late hours of the night reading articles.
soon he has mastered the art of carrying two babies at once.
he is such a funny dad. so funny. will do ANYTHING to make his girls laugh.
they love playing dress up!
except he’s the one being dressed up.💀
he makes an absolute show of it. he loves hearing his daughters laugh and he’ll do anything to make it happen.
“you know, you kind of rock a tutu.” you say, walking in during one of their makeovers.
to save time getting ready in the mornings, he learns how to do their hair, and before you know it, he’s a BEAST at it and can braid hair in a matter of seconds.
god forbid they get a hold of his face paint.
he leaves them alone for ONE moment. ONE minute. he comes back. they are both covered in black and white paint.
“ay, nononononono, not before school!!”
the girls want to be ghoulettes for halloween. every year.
“girls, what about something else? we can get you any costume you want. anything in the world.”
“ghoulettes.” they’d say in unison.
he spoils them rotten, buys them endless toys, matching stuffed animals, dolls… but in the process, falls in love with a specific brand:
i don’t even know how i came up with this, but i feel like terzo would love monster high dolls.
he’s in the store… mindlessly walking through the toy aisle. vet barbie, pilot barbie, pool party barbie, doctor barbie...
when all of a sudden, he lays eyes on something new. something exciting.
a “monster high” doll.
now that’s cool.
probably keeps two in his office, each of his girls’ favorite characters.
i lowkey feel like he enjoys some of the shows they watch. i can see him rocking with my little pony.
he loves playing with the girls. he loves their imagination.
gets VERY invested in the barbie storylines they come up with. does high pitched voices when he’s acting out the girl dolls and it makes the twins laugh until they’re rolling on the ground.
he also keeps all the drawings they make him, every single one. they’re also on display in his office.
he knows what it feels like to feel unequal to his siblings so he is very careful to make sure they both get the same amount of love and attention. ❤️
if they fight as they get older, he doesn’t get involved. he knows girls are scary when they’re mad. he lets you handle that. 💀
very invested in the school gossip when they get to that age. when he picks them up from school he’s always eager to know what happened.
protective. VERY anti-boy.
“wait, you said… DATING?” he says when the girls mention a new couple one day.
“yeah dad, we’re in 7th grade now.”
“yeah, dad.”
“NO BOYS! not now, not ever. they are stupid and ugly and think about nothing but themselves.” (he knows this because he was one💀)
(you know the scene from the movie “coco” where the grandma says “no music” over and over again? yeah, replace “music” with “boys”. same energy.)
teaches them about girl power from an early age.
of course, their mother leads the conversation, but he’s so dedicated to help these girls understand their worth. that they can be anything they want.
he already considered himself a feminist before having his daughters, but after having them, he is THE #1 feminist.
when they start talking about crushes, you have to explain to terzo that it’s normal and bound to happen one day.
he just loves his girls so much, he doesn’t want them to grow up🥲
but, uh…
god forbid any boy breaks one of their hearts.
oh, he is not above pulling the satan card on a 13 year old boy.
but you know, one quick google search of “emeritus” will do the trick. any boy will be sure to understand why messing with either of terzo’s girls is a death wish.🥰
___________________________________
i hope you enjoyed and this brought some light to your day!!! honestly i’m a little obsessed😭 hope you’re doing well!! remember you’re loved!!!❤️❤️❤️
#ghost band#the band ghost#papa emeritus#papa emeritus iii#terzo#ghost#papa emeritus x reader#papa terzo#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#dad!terzo#terzo headcanons#ghost headcanons
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yo regarding the headcanons, could you maybe perhaps do headcanons for the Papas where reader is just very energetic, expressive and smiley :D I talk a lot, and also with my hands so I thought this could be a cute idea! no pressure tho <3
I think this is absolutely the cutest idea ever!
Thank you for your request, I hope you like it.
Primo
Primo, possesses a striking and commanding presence. Dressed in his regal attire, with a flowing dark robe, ornate mitre, and skull-painted face, would give the idea that he is very authoritative and hard to get-along;
However, Primo is actually gentle and lovely. This figure was just hidden beneath his imposing exterior;
He is known for his profound empathy and kindness by some few people inside of the Ministry, especially you;
Primo's true essence is that of a compassionate and loving soul. His ability to balance his imposing stage presence with genuine kindness makes him a beloved figure;
He always payed attention to your behavior when you were walking around with the other siblings, your energy was certainly contagious even when you weren't talking directly to him;
In private moments, Primo would ask you to keep talking, filling the room with your energy. It would make him feel young, you would bring him the energy he thought he had lost;
His voice, usually deep and powerful on stage, transforms into a soothing and comforting tone whenever he talks to you;
And don't think you would be the only one talking in the room, Primo would always have something to add or tell you, especially if he knew that whatever he had to say to you, would make you happy. He knows exactly what to say to see your eyes shining with excitement.
Secondo
Secondo is known for his stern and authoritative demeanor. He has a regal and solemn presence;
He enjoys the silence. Not that he doesn't talk, but he prefers to not be bothered at all;
He works in silence, he eats in silence, he walks in silence and even his replies are silently;
The most part of his day, only some few words would be heard and most part of them would be just a grunt or short Italian sentences;
When you started your new life in the Ministry, poor Secondo, he had a hard time;
You would see him walking on the corridors and follow him asking things about the Ministry and other things you'd want to know;
He'd likely observe your energetic behavior with a raised eyebrow, not entirely sure how to handle your exuberance;
But, at every question, he would respond with a calm, measured tone and occasionally interject to steer the conversation toward another topic;
And then, one day, he found himself listening attentively to your lively conversation;
As you two continued to interact, he gradually warms up to your enthusiasm;
Initially, he would try to maintain a composed demeanor, but a subtle, appreciative smile would eventually break through;
Occasionally gesture with his own hands, trying to match your energy;
He'd nod along to your animated conversation, occasionally chuckling at your infectious enthusiasm, and that was the first time you heard his laugh;
And for the first time in years, Secondo would stop being a fan of the silence.
Terzo
Terzo, known for his suave and charming demeanor, would appreciate your energetic behavior;
He is a true charmer, exuding a magnetic allure that draws people into his orbit;
He is a Papa with a striking contrast between his onstage flamboyance and his offstage complexity;
His elaborate outfits, makeup, and passionate vocals all contribute to his captivating stage persona. His deep, expressive eyes, have a way of making anyone feel special when he gazes at them;
However, he was already described in the past as a deeply introspective and often lonely figure;
When confronted with someone who is energetic, talkative, always smiling, Terzo would respond with curiosity and caution;
Deep down, he may also feel a sense of longing for the genuine connection and warmth that you exudes;
Your expressive nature may remind him of the joy and vibrancy he often yearns for in his life;
He'd appreciate your energy and might even encourage you to share more stories and anecdotes;
He finds your enthusiasm absolutely endearing and contagious. He'd be delighted by your expressiveness and smile in response;
But also, this would be the opportunity to engage in witty and flirtatious banter;
Terzo would relish in your chatter, listening intently to every word, and responding with compliments and charming remarks;
With a debonair smile, he'd occasionally join in on your hand gestures, using grand gestures and theatrical expressions to complement your energy;
For Terzo, your expressiveness is charming and he would share witty remarks to keep the conversation light and enjoyable;
Your interaction would be a captivating blend of wit, energy, and underlying emotional depth.
Copia
Copia stands out not only for his ecclesiastical vestments but also for his playful and approachable demeanor;
He might respond with a subtle smile or a knowing glance, occasionally interjecting with cryptic comments;
However, Copia has a mischievous streak, often sharing puns, dad jokes, and silly one-liners with a twinkle in his eye.
When he encounters someone who is just like him, Copia couldn't be happier;
His voice carries an infectious enthusiasm just like yours;
Copia, would likely adapt to the situation and mirror your energy;
He'd wear a warm smile and would reciprocate with animated gestures and an endless stream of playful chatter, sometimes even incorporating puns and jokes into the conversation;
Copia finds you boundless energy and expressiveness utterly endearing;
He would feel an instant connection with you, finding your energy contagious and your expressive nature utterly charming;
He might even encourage you to share more stories and anecdotes to keep the conversation lively;
Copia would likely share his own stories encouraging laughter and light-heartedness between your interaction;
Your interaction would be filled with laughter, warmth, and a shared love for all things dorky and fun.
#ghost band#ghost bc#the band ghost#ghost the band#papa emeritus iv#copia#papa emeritus iii#terzo#papa emeritus ii#secondo#papa emeritus i#primo#ghost band headcanons#copia headcanons#terzo headcanons#secondo headcanons#primo headcanons#papa emeritus headcanon#papa emeritus#papa copia#papa terzo#papa secondo#papa primo
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Primo loves freshly brewed herbal teas using his very own tea blends – his stomach can't handle coffee anymore. Secondo prefers black coffee or a double espresso, will judge the taste upon the very first sip and it better not be cheap filter coffee. Terzo drinks milky coffees in the morning, appreciates a good latte art, but after lunch it's only espresso, will carry a bejewelled reusable cup of iced coffee around all summer, sipping from a straw. Copia likes his coffee with evaporated or even condensed milk but only if the other Papas aren't around to bear witness to his atrocities. If they are, he'll opt for whatever they have but adds unhealthy amounts of sugar when they aren't looking.
#this is the world i live in#i am not open for criticism at this point#shitghosting#papa headcanons#copia headcanons#secondo headcanons#terzo headcanons#primo headcanons#ghost headcanons#papa emeritus iv#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus ii#papa emeritus i
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(more) Ghost Head Cannons
Rain loves thunderstorms. He is often found laying in the storms.
Copia gets really sad whenever he hears a song from meliora, He greatly misses Terzo, and the thought of him makes him cry.
Sister makes Copias dating life miserable. she always walks in his room unannounced with juice boxes and little snacks.
the "hang in there" cat poster in Copias room is the last thing Terzo ever gave him and he wishes Terzo was still around.
Mountain often hits his head on things in the ministry.
Swiss and Aurora battle eachother at the dinner table because they both want to be the "best multi-ghoul"
Sister once gave Swiss a multi tool, that was engraved with "multi-ghoul" for christmas.
Aurora stole that multi tool from swiss
#ghost hc#ghost band#papa copia#the band ghost#ghost papa emeritus#ghost the band#papa iv#copia#copia plushie#cardinal copia#ghost bc#terzo#terzo emeritus#terzo headcanons#papa iii#sister imperator#papa emeritus#papa emeritus iii#copia headcanons#Papa iv headcanons#water ghoul#sodo ghoul#aether ghoul#aurora ghoulette#dew ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#fire ghoul#mountain ghoul#nameless ghouls#swiss ghoul
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Random Terzo headcanons I thought of
Has made out with one of his ghouls *cough* Omega *cough*
One time during Easter, the Emeritus brothers +Copia decided to wear bunny suits (like the onesies) and Terzo showed up wearing a playboy bunny suit.
Has one of, if not the most powerful rizz.
Has the most EXTRA facial and hair routine.
He wears an extravagant nightgown to sleep.
Every Halloween he wears a sexy costume.
Has an eye for fashion
He likes jazz
On his free day, he likes to go to the spa.
Has a kazoo collection (obviously)
#the band ghost#ghost band#Papa iii#terzo emeritus#Terzo#Terzo headcanons#ghost bc#ghost headcanons#nameless ghouls#Papa Emeritus#papa emeritus iii
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✦ Revived Terzo / Papa Emeritus III head canons
Cold and stiff, is how he feels
Would try to make any subtle noise to help him escape the glass coffin
Is relieved when someone helps him out of the glass coffin
Extremely devastated when his brothers don’t wake up
Will try to speak but unfortunately cannot since his mouth would be wired shut
Can only drink liquids for a while even though his throat burns but will slowly eat normal foods
Will not wear his papal robes for the remaining time that he spends in the abbey
Will immediately try to go to his S/O and immediately feels safe with their familiar warmth
If he figures out his s/o also died too, he’d be heartbroken and utterly alone
Doesn’t have a green thumb but tries to save / tend to Primo’s garden during his recovery
Has a visible scar around his neck and has a white streak somewhere in his hair
It will take him a while for him to get back to his normal self
Will sometimes wonder why was he the one that was revived and not his brothers
#ghost band headcanons#terzo headcanons#revived Terzo head canons#ghost band x reader#papa emeritus 3 head canon#papa Terzo imagine#papa emeritus iii head canon
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Terzo Emeritus is Lucille Bluth and you can't change my mind.
Copia: "I have an afternoon free!"
Terzo: "Did nothing cancel?"
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-Primo and Secondo looking at a boat with the word "Seaward" painted on the side.
Secondo: "We need to get rid of the Seaward.
Terzo from behind them: "I'll leave when I'm good and ready."
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-Terzo to his brothers: "Anyway, it's a party and I want the whole family there."
Copia: "We're having a party?"
Terzo: "No"
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Secondo: "I still can't believe Copia's going on tour."
Terzo: You know, he's doing it just to spite me.
Secondo: Then why are you throwing him a party?
Terzo: Just to spite him.
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Confirmed: Terzo is a girl dad
#the band ghost#papa terzo#papa emeritus lll#dad terzo#terzo as a dad#terzo emeritus#terzo headcanons#girl dad terzo
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do you think the Papas listen to Lana Del Rey ??? (it’s a serious question and i’ve been thinking about it for the last 3 days, send help)
DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOURE ASKING???
AS SOMEONE WHO IS OBSESSED WITH THE SPARKLE JUMP ROPE QUEEN, OFC ID SAY THE ANSWER IS YES ♥︎
You just know I’d be hanging out with the Papas and put some Lana on! I picture they’d actually really like her music (and me dancing to it in my panties would probably help too lmao) but here’s how I picture their preferences!
Primo likes Norman Fucking Rockwell and Chemtrails Over the Country Club
Secondo likes anything off Ultraviolence and also some stuff from her Lizzy Grant days like 1949
Terzo likes Honeymoon and Lust for Life
Copia really likes Born to Die and a lot of her unreleased music like BBM Baby, Caught You Boy, Girl that Got Away, Every Man Gets His Wish, Prom Song (Gone Wrong), Television Heaven, Diet Mountain Dew (Demo Version) etc!
And ofc I think they’d all love it if I sung Be My Daddy to them 😈
#my headcanons#tyarichtofen#my lovely ghestie#ask box#ghost headcanons#copia headcanons#terzo headcanons#terzo#copia#primo#secondo
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I recently got a puppy and I had a thought- could you write headcannons/ fic about Terzo’s daughter wanting a puppy and he can’t say no to her even though he’s a cat person/ has cats.
okay several things first. yay, new puppy!! also of course!! this prompt instantly made me think of a meme i’ll put at the end of the fic hehe.
dad! terzo getting a puppy headcanons 🐾
^ okay it’s crazy that the picture i found of terzo with a dog just happens to be with a dachshund, i found it after i wrote this teehee.
“la mia stellina… i will get you anything in the whole world… just, please, not a dog.” terzo PLEADS his daughter, fighting to not succumb to her puppy dog eyes (fitting in this situation)
-“pleeeaaaase, papa!” she begs.
-“absolutely not.”
-“why not?”
-“there is no way in heaven we are getting a dog. we already have a cat.
-“binx needs a friend!” she says.
-“then it will be another cat. no puppies. no.”
-before he knows it, there is a baby dachshund now residing in his home.
-he sighs. ”you chose a… weiner dog?”
-“she’s a dachshund, papa! and she’s so cute!”
-it’s a weiner dog. yes it is. i literally do not accept any other hc. if terzo had a dog it would be a weiner dog. it’s short and silly just like terzo.
-“her name is farfalle.”
-“why farfalle? looks more like a sausage to me.”
-“because it sound pretty, papa! don’t be mean!”
-farfalle instantly takes a liking to terzo, she’s loving to everyone, but terzo more than anyone else.
-he’s not particularly fond of it. she tugs at his robes and jumps onto his lap and licks at his face paint.
-one day, as he’s relaxing in his dad chair™, he hears farfalle pitter-pattering across the hardwood floor. he’s preparing himself to scold her for chewing on his perfectly polished shoes, instead the footsteps come to a halt. suspicious.
-he looks down and sees her patiently sitting beside his feet, tilting her head and looking up at him with big eyes.
-he sighs. “fine.”
-he pats his leg and she jumps into his chair, curling up in his lap.
-he had to admit, it was kind of… cute.
-yeah, they become best friends after that.
-he and his daughter practically fight for her attention.
-farfalle follows him around ALL THE TIME while she’s at school and he lets her.
-sister imperator scolds terzo for letting her roam the church but he declares that he is papa, and he makes the rules.
-spends so much money on her. buys her a tempur-pedic dog bed and a gucci collar.
-primo tells terzo if the dog ever messes up even a single flower in his perfect garden she is going to become a nice sausage roll.
-but terzo insists that his little farfalle MUST see the garden. so he buys a stroller and goes on walks with his daughter while he wheels her through the garden. yeah. the clergy makes fun of him, but he doesn’t care.
-sings her the weiner dog song, if you know you know.
long story short:
i hope you enjoyed!!! tysm for your request! sorry i haven’t posted a fic in a while my mind is a wreck and college is weird!😵💫😵💫😵💫 more stuff is coming i promise!
/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡ thank you for reading!
-alice
#the band ghost#ghost band#ghost#terzo#papa emeritus iii#papa emeritus#papa terzo#papa emeritus x reader#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#dad! terzo#terzo headcanons#ghost headcanons
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Eternal - Terzo x Fem!Reader
Summary: The things in your life were not going as you wanted to. You found yourself overwhelmed by a sense of hopelessness, immersed in a state of despair and uncertainty, you decided to give prayer a chance, entirely unaware of what life had prepared for you.
Words: 3.723
Warnings: SMUT (fingering; unprotected sex; dirty talk) | Italian swearing | Swearing | This is a fluff that escalates to smut!
You left your house with a resolve in your heart, determined to find solace within the embrace of a sacred space. Your eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for the first church, chapel, or any place that resonated with a sense of holiness. Spotting a church in the distance, you hastened towards its entrance, double-checking that no one else was around. Privacy was essential for the vulnerability of your prayers.
You approached the open front door of the church, and carefully ventured inside, ensuring the coast was clear. With a sense of liberation, you decided to do whatever you needed to do. Instead of venturing too close to the altar, you opted for one of the back benches, where you knelt down and brought your hands together in a heartfelt prayer. The quiet sanctuary enveloped you, allowing you to find solace and seek guidance in this sacred moment.
As you closed your eyes and whispered your heartfelt plea, a soft voice interrupted the silence from behind you. Startled, you turned around to find a man standing there, his eyes filled with warmth.
"Praying to God, bambina?" his words, lingered in the air.
A wave of emotions washed over you, leaving you feeling a mixture of surprise, relief, and a hint of vulnerability. The unexpected presence of someone in the church caught you off guard, as you had taken precautions to ensure the space was empty before entering.
You took a moment to collect yourself, "In my own way, I suppose. I just needed some guidance, some light." Your voice steadying as you replied.
He reached out, extending one of his gloved hands towards you. You eagerly grabbed hold of it, rising up from your kneeling position. The touch of his hand was gentle and reassuring, offering a sense of comfort and support in that moment.
"Sometimes, bambina, the answers we seek are closer than we think," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of wisdom. "Perhaps, in finding each other, we've found a source of light." He brought your hand close to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of it. "The mass is almost ready to begin, don't you want to stay?"
"I appreciate the offer," you began, leaving his hand, "but I'm not the religious type. I believe that answers can be found in various ways, even outside the walls of this church."
He nodded understandingly, you gave him a gentle smile and made your way to the front door of the church. However, before you could make your way towards the exit, he reached out and gently grasped your arm, his touch urging you to stay.
"Could you at least wait outside for me?" he asked earnestly. "There's something I'd like to share with you, something that might offer a different perspective. It won't take long."
Although you never saw this man before, he had a charm that were really persuasive. You wanted to tell him "no" but at the same time, you wanted to stay and wait for him. And that was what you did, with a soft smile, you nodded in agreement.
Little did you know, that in making the decision to wait for him outside the church, you would make a change in your life. After all, life, it seemed, had a way of proving us wrong when we least expected it. When the church doors swung open, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, his eyes searching for you. And there it was—the most radiant smile you had ever seen.
You still remember the talk you two had on that day. Thee memory of your conversation with him flooded back, leaving a lasting imprint on your heart. His undivided attention, the way he listened intently to every word you spoke, made you feel seen and understood in a way you had never experienced before. When he came with the revelation that he was the leader of the mass, a sense of shock washed over you. He didn't fit the stereotypical image of a church leader, and the realization that he held such a position in a Satanic context left you momentarily trembling. Despite the initial surprise, you couldn't deny the magnetism he exuded, the way he made you feel seen and valued, and from that day forward, you found yourself attending the Sunday masses regularly.
Falling in love with him came effortlessly, as natural as the rhythm of your own breath. The depth of your connection grew with each passing week, fueled by shared experiences and profound conversations. There was an undeniable chemistry between you two, but as your heart grew more entangled in the web of love, a lingering question remained: Did him feel the same way?
Then, on a day that felt like any other, something shifted. As the final chords of the mass reverberated, the congregation began to disperse, leaving you and him standing face to face, he stepped forward, and his lips met yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. And at that moment, doubts and fears dissipated.
Honestly, Love was a word and a feeling that had forever eluded your complete understanding. Countless songs, quotes, books, movies, and TV shows tried to capture its essence, but it remained elusive, slipping through your fingers like an ethereal mist. However, the concept of an unbreakable bond between two individuals, as described by Madame de Stäel in her book, Corinne, or Italy: "Love is the emblem of eternity; it confounds all notion of time; effaces all memory of a beginning, all fear of an end." Though it seemed fantastical, you couldn't help but be drawn to the idea, wondering if such an all-encompassing love truly existed.
It wasn't that you didn't believe in love. Of course, you did. But the idea of a love that transcended time, that existed beyond the limitations of mortal existence, was something you doubted. The kind of love that could make time slip away, erase the memory of how it all began, and alleviate the fear of its eventual conclusion seemed like a mere fantasy.
As you spent more and more time with him, your comprehension of love expanded and deepened, it transcended the limits of mere existence, creating a bond that defied the conventional boundaries of time and space. You began to comprehend the true nature of love and its ability to surpass the constraints of time and mortality. The realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of foolishness for ever doubting the existence of such an extraordinary love, the kind that only the most passionate souls could fathom.
The sheer depth of your disbelief, once an unyielding conviction, now appeared like a relic of a bygone era. It felt as if a veil had been lifted, exposing a whole new realm of emotions and connections that were previously unimaginable. The intensity of your bond with him shattered all preconceived notions, leaving no space for doubt or skepticism to linger.
Love swept you both off your feet, and in no time, you found yourselves deeply in love, inseparable from one another. It didn't take long for you to make the leap and move in together, creating a cozy and shared space where your love could flourish.
Now, as you nestled together on the bed, the comforting warmth of Terzo's presence enveloped you like a cozy blanket on a chilly morning. His arm held you close, radiating a comforting heat that made you feel safe and loved to the core. Turning your body to face him, you rested your forehead gently against his collarbone, closing your eyes, taking a deep breath, inhaling deeply, savoring the comforting scent that enveloped you—a unique blend of warmth, comfort, and love. You enveloped him, wrapping your arms around him with a firm and loving hold, letting out a sigh.
A gentle chuckle slipped from Terzo's lips, coaxing your eyes open. "Are you already awake, cara?" he murmured, his eyes fluttering open lazily.
A tender smile graced your lips as you noticed the slight huskiness in his voice. "Yes, but it's too early. You can go back to sleep."
He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "And miss these precious moments with you before I have to leave? No, grazie, amore mio."
"Are you sure? I don't want to disrupt your rest," you started, but he interrupted you, gently planting a sweet kiss on your lips, leaving you momentarily breathless.
You couldn't help but giggle as Terzo playfully showered you with kisses, his lips trailing a path of affection across your face. "I don't usually enjoy waking up early, but for you, I'm more than willing to make an exception, cara." His hand, delicately, caressed your back pulling you closer to him, pressing your bodies closer. "And I wouldn't miss these precious early hours with you for anything in the world," he whispered, biting his lower lip.
He held your chin, tilting your head in his direction. Terzo's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fervor that consumed you both. His lips danced upon yours, exploring every curve and contour with an intoxicating hunger, leaving nips on your lips. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Your mouths moved in perfect harmony, a synchronized dance of desire and longing. Lips parted, allowing tongues to intertwine in a passionate embrace. His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin with feather-light touches.
He pulled back, taking a moment to admire the vision before him. Your eyes were closed, a slight smile playing at the corners of your mouth. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your breathing shallow.
"Sembri così bellissima in questo momento." He whispered against your lips, kissing them softly. He cupped your face in his hand, "ti amo, cara." His word sent shivers down your spine, causing goose bumps to appear in your body.
"I love... you too," you replied breathlessly.
His hand found its way from your back to your breast, kneading it through the thin material of your nightie. A gasp escaped your lips as he brushed his thumb over your nipple, hearing his mischievous giggle. His hand slid to your waist, reaching for your thighs, pulling your leg to rest on his waist, pressing you tightly against him. Your body arched into him as he pulled you closer, pressing his hardness against your core.
His lips collided again on yours, sliding his tongue between your lips, tasting the sweetness of your mouth. You moaned softly into his mouth as he sucked your tongue inside, licking it slowly, teasingly. His hand slid up under your nightie, pulling it higher, exposing your breasts to to the cool air. He lowered his head, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, flicking his tongue across it. Your hips began to grind against him, grinding yourself against him.
His hand slid down your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your panties, caressing your wetness. "You're so wet for me..." Terzo's fingers explored your delicate folds, "I want you so bad..." he whispered in a voice filled with longing.
A soft whimper escaped your lips as he skillfully teased you, his fingers delicately tracing circles around your sensitive clit. The sensations overwhelmed you, causing your hips to instinctively grind against his hand, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he offered. With a gentle glide, his fingers slipped inside you, effortlessly navigating your tight and wet depths.
His fingers moved in and out of you, pumping in and out of you, faster and faster. Your hips keep rocking against his hand, while you gasped as they plugged deeper into you, filling you completely. He thrust his fingers inside and out of you, matching the rhythm of your hips. As he felt your body begin to convulse, tightening around his fingers, he continues to pump them inside of you. Your moans grew louder, and your body tightened even more around his fingers.
"Please," you begged, "please take me... I need you inside me..."
He leaned forward kissing you passionately, moving in and out of you, keeping you on the edge. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the climax, your body shaking uncontrollably. He slowed his pace, wanting to make it last longer. Your body shook hard as he pulled out his fingers from inside of you, bringing then to his mouth, sucking them clean.
He let out a grunt, "you feel so good." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, biting down on his lips,"tastes so good." He opened his eyes again with a look of pure ecstasy.
He rolled over onto his back, pulling you with him. "I want you to ride me, mia cara. I want to see you fucking yourself on my cock." He said, looking at you with an almost evil smile.
You returned his smile, positioning yourself in anticipation. Your hands instinctively found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants, deftly pulling them down to his knees. As the fabric slid away, his throbbing member was unveiled. The sight made your heart skip a beat, of course you were already used to the view, but his thickness always looked like it would split you in two. You moved your hand up and down the shaft, feeling the heat emanating from it. You ran your tongue across your bottom lip, as you sat up, rubbing your wetness on his length, teasing him, moaning softly.
He grabbed your hips tightly, "are you going to tease me now?" he asked, his voice sounding like gravel.
"No," you replied. "I'm going to fuck you." You positioned yourself above his hardness, placing the tip of his member against your entrance, gently pushing against it, trying to get it into you.
He groaned loudly, "slowly," he instructed.
You felt it slide in just slightly, making you moan loudly. You push harder, leaving your walls stretching around him, as you felt him enter you. You tried to push yourself onto him, but he held you in the place.
"Don't move." He commanded. You nodded looking into his eyes.
He started thrusting himself into you, making sure that every inch of his length was inside of you. You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of being filled completely, tightening around him. He began to pick up speed, your legs shaking under you. He reached and grab both of your breasts, squeezing them softly.
"Terz-Oh!" You screamed out. "So good! Fuck!"
"You like my cock?" he asked, his voice low.
A wordless affirmation escaped your lips as you nodded, your mouth slightly agape in a silent moan.
His movements intensified, slamming into you with an increased force. "Then, tell me how much you love my cock, cara," he urged.
His thrusts continued with a fervent rhythm, hitting that perfect spot inside you that ignited waves of pleasure. In a swift motion, he sat up on the bed, his grip on your hair becoming firmer as he pulled your head back, exposing the delicate curve of your neck. A surge of primal desire consumed him as he sank his teeth into your exposed flesh.
In the heat of the moment, pleasure coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy. "I love your cock. It feels so good!"
He released his grip on your hair, his hand gently settling on your back, providing a sense of support and stability. "Brava ragazza! Cazzo! You're still so tight," he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire.
Sensing the need for restraint, he slowed his pace, his hand tenderly cupping your face. "You're not allowed to come just yet," he whispered, a teasing edge in his voice. "You must wait until I give you permission."
You nodded in agreement, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you both caught your breath. You started to move your hips, up and down on his length, feeling it slide in and out of you. He was still holding you on your back, you could feel with each move him getting harder inside of you. He didn't say anything, he kept looking into your eyes, watching you.
He pulled you off for a second, with a devilish smile on his lips. "Forgot how to talk, mia cara? You know I work with words."
You shake your head breathless. "Y- Yes!" you stammer, "your cock feels amazing inside of me."
"Does it, amore?" he pushed you down onto it again.
Your arched your back at the feeling of him moving inside of you, you could feel yourself getting wetter, you felt him start to push himself deeper inside of you, making you gasp. You could feel him going deeper and deeper inside of you.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" you moaned, biting your lip. "I'm so close, please don't stop!" You begged, grinding your hips in the same rhythm of his thrusts inside of you.
The more he thrust, the tighter your walls got around him. You were getting close to cumming. You could feel your juices flowing from within you to his member. It was almost too much, you were going to come any second now.
With a gentle motion, he withdrew from you, shifting his position to lie you down on the bed, your back resting against the soft sheets. Your legs automatically squeezed together, trembling, making you arch your back. The anticipation built as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading them apart with care and intention, creating a space for him to reenter you.
"Tell me what you want." He said running his hands on your inner thighs, causing you to shiver by his touch.
"I want to cum, Terzo. Please, make me cum, let me cum."
You rolled your eyes as he guided his shaft back into you, his grip on your waist tightened, establishing a firm connection. The rhythm of his thrusts quickened, filling you with an intensifying wave of pleasure. With each movement, he gazed down at you, a smile of satisfaction and desire playing on his lips.
Your legs wrapped around his body, pulling him closer. "You like that?" A deep growl escaped his lips as he maintained the pace, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of desire and admiration. "You look absolutely beautiful when I fuck you, cara," he murmured in a voice laced with passion.
You nod frantically, unable to speak. He starts to move faster, harder. His face contorts, his eyes closed. He leaned in closer, his lips finding one of your sensitive nipples, playfully biting down, causing a delightful mixture of pleasure and a gasp to escape your lips. Your hands instinctively grasped the pillow behind your head, holding on as his teeth found their way to your other nipple, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The sensation made you squirm, a delightful blend of pleasure and desire enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.
"Sì, cara, sì. Scream for me!" he whispered close to your ear. "Per l'amor di Satana, you feel so good."
His lips found yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue entered your mouth, dancing with yours. Your hands found their way to his chest, caressing his skin. He moaned, breaking away from your kiss. He kissed down your neck, moaning close to your ear.
"Cara, I'm going to cum soon," he whispered on your ear. "Cum for me, cum on my cock." One of his hands left your waist going to your clit, rubbing if fast.
You nod, your eyes glazed over with lust. You can feel his body tensing up, he's getting close. Your legs shaking with his touch, stimulating your clit on the same rhythm he pounds inside of you. You bite your lip, your breathing becoming shallow. You can feel your orgasm building up inside of you, biting your lips, you let your walls contracting hard around his shaft.
"Oh yes, please, please," you whispered, trying to hold back your climax.
"I love when you beg for me, mia cara." He whispered, sucking your earlobe, his hand still rubbing your clit. "Cum for me, cum for me now!" He commands, his voice growing louder.
You cry out, your body convulsing as he continued to rub your clit, making sure you lose control. You feel your orgasm rush over you, your muscles twitching around his length. He grunts, straightening up. His movements becoming erratic, letting your name escape his lips, he pulls out of you, his shaft covered in your juice. He starts to stroke his hardness fast, moaning loudly.
"I'm going to cum, amore, cazzo!" His voice, hoarse with desire, reverberated through the room as he reached his climax, releasing himself onto your belly. The echoes of his passionate moans filled the air.
Terzo fell onto you, his body pressing against yours. As his weight settled upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling within the locks. You held him close, weaving through his hair, the touch acted as a soothing caress, a tender gesture of affection that reflected the depth of your connection. As you caught your breath, the weight of Terzo's body against yours offered a comforting presence. The rise and fall of his chest matched your own.
As you gazed into each other's eyes, a knowing smile formed on your lips. He reached for the nearby sheets, pulling them over both of your bodies. Terzo's body gently rolled to the side, his arm encircling your waist, drawing you closer to him.
You nestled into the curve of his body, finding solace in his embrace. "I guess we can go back to sleep a little bit more before you have to go." You whispered.
His touch grew tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his voice laced with affection. "Sì, I guess you're right," he murmured. "Ti amo..." he whispered, closing his eyes.
With a smile on your lips, you nuzzled your face against his chest. "I love you too..." You closed your eyes, surrendering to the serenity of the moment. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against your head, lulled you into a state of peacefulness. With this moment of tenderness and love, you both surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep.
Grammar
⸻
Bambina - Girl
Cara - Dear
No, grazie, amore mio - No, thank you, my love
Sembri così bellissima in questo momento - You look so beautiful right now
Ti amo - I love you
Brava ragazza - Good girl
Cazzo - Fuck
Sì, cara, sì - Yes, dear, yes
Per l'amor di Santana - For the love of Satan
#ghost fanfiction#ghost fic#the band ghost fanfic#the band ghost fic#ghost band#ghost bc#papa emeritus x reader#terzo smut#terzo x y/n#terzo emeritus#terzo x reader#terzo#terzo headcanons#terzo fanfiction#papa emeritus iii#papa iii#papa emeritus#ghost the band#papa emeritus iii fanfiction#papa terzo#ghost terzo#papa emeritus 3#papa emeritus smut#smut bellow the cut#smut#papa 3#papa emeritus iii x female reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus the third#fluff
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Terzo x GN!Reader: Part 2 of the Driving Imagines
Okay, like the title says, its part 2 of my driving imagines.
- Gender Neutral, but I use '-o' for Caro and Tesoro
ENJOY!!
---
Driving with Terzo was always something you had looked forward to, despite his insistence to take the scenic route (Every. Single. Time. He'll claim 'the scenery reminds me of you, tesoro' ) he made sure the drive was never boring, and today was no different.
Normally, you'd have dates on Ministry ground, it was easier for you both and with Terzo being Papa, managing to get away from the Ministry was nearly impossible. However, after his recent ~~and forced~~ resignation, schedules were freed up and he could finally take you on a date outside and away from prying eyes.
Terzo had the roof down, allowing the wind to tussle his hair and one hand resting on your thigh, occasionally rubbing his thumb back and forward. You were sat watching him, a small smile on your face.
"Why are you staring at me, caro? See something you like?"
"Hmm, the sky is beautiful today." He huffed at your response. You smiled wider. "But... My dear, you are the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes upon" You watched as he rolled his eyes, smiling a little. He reached over to the stereo and turned on the radio.
It was pretty much silent from then on, the occasional murmuring from Terzo singing along to the radio and the wind whistling past as he drove were the only things you could hear. It was peaceful and you knew he felt the same way.
It was at that point that a love song came on the radio, you could feel Terzo's eyes on you.
"This one is for you, my Dear." You smiled and he began singing. It was like going to a ritual and seeing him sing live, every single note was hit perfectly and you found yourself smiling at the man sat next to you again.
#ghost the band#thebandghost#ghost headcanons#the band ghost#terzo headcanons#terzo emeritus#terzo x reader#terzo emeritus x reader
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walks to microphone ahem ahem
So.
Terzo.
I love him.
there should be applause
Yes, yes, thank you.
So, here are some headcanons.
Terzo was most compared to the young Nihil while he was growing up. People always said how much he looks like him in appearance, and in general, how wonderful it is that the son went to his father.
Terzo, as a child, liked that he was compared with his father, he was proud of it.
But growing up, and seeing how Nihil did not like Copia, Terzo began to ask questions.
So, he found out that Nikhil cheated on Sister Imrerator.
The picture began to pour in and Terzo, who dreamed that he would find the love of his life, began to doubt himself and people.
What if they do the same to him?
Or, even worse, HE will do this to someone he loves?
Therefore, in order not to torture himself or others, he never lingered on one partner, for which he earned such a reputation.
When he finally met the love of his life, he was initially in a daze. Terzo has never experienced so many emotions for anyone. It was something new. Deep.
He brushed off these feelings with all his might, because...he was afraid. He was afraid that his feelings would not be answered, that he would not be taken seriously.
But in response to his attempt to give that endless warmth that he had locked deep in himself, he was answered with even more warmth.
Slowly, uncertainly. he opened up, showing himself from a new side. On the part of a romantic who is ready to give everything he has, if only he was loved for who he is.
#i love him#terzo#terzo my beloved#terzo headcanons#ghost headcanons#the ghost band#the band ghost headcanons#i am in so much feelings
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Papa Emeritus III/Terzo NSFW Headcanons
18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI
⸸semi terzo x reader⸸
CWs: mention of kinks, could potentially be seen as "hard" kinks such as cnc, bratting, hard domination, etc.
ummm idk if i need to warn for anything else but you've been warned this content may be offensive and/or triggering so please please please don't read if you think this will hurt you in any way!
he wasn't one to settle down quickly early in his life
even as he got older, being attached to someone was just a turn off
he doesn't believe in falling in love or "love at first sight"
definitely the type of person to sleep around... i mean look at the bullet points above akdhs
he's sooo vanilla /s
THAT'S A LIE HE'S LIKE THE KINKIEST MOTHERFUCKER AROUND-
he's a hard dom
and a sadist
he'll make you cry (consentually, of course) and LOVE every second of it
you're a brat? ooooh he'll love you
he's definitely a brat tamer, though he does have equal love for the obedient subs
he loves that he can "break you" as a brat tamer, make you listen and degrade and condescend you every moment he realizes your brattiness is melting away
sometimes, though, he just wants to let off steam
and what's better than letting off steam with an obedient pet who abides his every word
he can move you wherever he wants, position you how he likes, pound you over and over, and cum on every square inch of your skin
and if you're good (like he knows you will be) you'll get to cum too
he'd make you finish over and over just because of the way you squirm and the way you sing at his touch. it brings him so much satisfaction and pleasure.
he does have a soft side, so he can soft dom though it isn't often
if you've been together a while, for years, have grown comfortable with each other and he trusts you completely, he'd become more softly dominant with you (unless if you ask otherwise)
if you have his love, he wants to cherish you, caress you, make you cum as much as you want
the hard smacks would turn to gentle pets along your skin
he's decent at aftercare with his partners
the intimacy of it does make him nervous though he makes sure not to show it.
he prefers to be alone afterwards, but if you expressed to him that you wanted company and to be held, he'd do it of course.
because he does care for your well-being at the end of it all.
if you've been established together for a while, he'd prefer to be by your side, holding you, whispering sweet pet names and reassurances. and whatever you needed, he'd give you at the drop of a hat
**************************************************
⸸ tags ⸸ @kaiinoro
#the band ghost#papa emeritus lll#papa terzo#terzo x reader#the band ghost x reader#papa emeritus x reader#terzo headcanons#the band ghost headcanons#i escaped my cage
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