Writing Rebogs - Tumblr Posts

spoiled little girlfriend : gojo satoru, geto suguru

gojo was lying on your shared bed, his long legs stretched out as he sifted through some paperwork. the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his sharp features, making his white hair seem even brighter against the dark sheets. he was deeply focused, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

you walked into the bedroom, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through a message or maybe a funny video that caught your attention. you didn't even notice how the soft tapping of your footsteps caught gojo's attention. he looked up from his papers, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“baby,” you called out casually, still focused on your phone. your voice was sweet, but there was a hint of playfulness in it, like you were about to ask him for something or share a joke.

as you spoke, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. geto, freshly showered, stepped out with a towel draped casually around his neck. his wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his neck and bare chest. he looked relaxed, his eyes warm and soft as he caught sight of you and gojo.

“yes, love?” gojo asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he watched you, his paperwork momentarily forgotten. he shifted slightly on the bed, making space for you to join him.

you bent down to the bed with your feet still touching the wooden floor. your elbows prop against the soft material while your eyes are still focusing on your phone, finger softly scroll through the screen.

“cartier just released a new necklace, look,” you said and show gojo your phone screen. gojo's eyes flick from your face to your phone, his gaze lingering on the expensive piece of jewelry displayed on the screen. his lips curl into a slight smirk as he notices your interest in the accessory, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“looks very pretty, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying a touch of teasing, “you want me to buy it for you?” he casually set his paperwork aside, his full attention now on you and the necklace you were showing him.

you smiled brightly, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you nodded eagerly. “yes, please,” you replied, your voice soft but full of anticipation.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the eager look in your eyes as you nodded. he knew you had a penchant for pretty trinkets, and he'd often indulged you whenever you had your eye on something.

“of course, darling. anything for you,” he said, his own smile broadening at your excitement. geto, who had been silently watching the exchange from the bathroom door, raised an eyebrow in amusement. he couldn't help but chime in from the side, a teasing tone in his voice. “you're so whipped,” he remarked with a smirk.

gojo glanced at geto, his grin turning into a playful smirk. “i'm working my ass off and have all this money for what if not to spoil my girlfriend?” he replied, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

he leaned back against the pillows, folding his arms behind his head, looking completely satisfied with himself. “besides,” he added, throwing a fond smile your way while you already engrossed by your phone, “seeing her smile like that is worth every penny.”

geto chuckled as he wiped his wet hair with the towel around his broad shoulders. he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze going from gojo to you before settling back on the white-haired man.

“looks like our little darling has you wrapped around her little finger,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of laughter. gojo smirked back at him but didn't deny it. instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he regarded you.

your focus had already shifted back to your phone as they talked, completely absorbed in the world of sparkling jewels and elegant designs. the soft glow from the screen illuminated your face, and they could see the twinkle in your eyes, like twin stars, as you scrolled through the jewelry catalog.

you were in your own world, mesmerized by the shiny things, barely registering the playful exchange between gojo and geto. a small, contented smile played on your lips as you admired each piece, your excitement palpable even in your silence.

both gojo and geto chuckled at the sight of your absorption in the jewelry catalog, finding your innocent fascination as endearing as it was amusing. gojo's smirk softened into a fond smile as he observed your reaction, watching as you became immersed in the luxurious items that filled the screen.

“look at her,” geto murmured to gojo, his voice betraying his own amusement, “always lost in the world of pretty things.”

their gazes softening as they observed your captivated expression. it was endearing how easily you got distracted by material possessions, yet they couldn't deny the genuine joy it seemed to bring to you.

geto pushed off from the door frame and walked over to the bed, his footsteps soft and silent. he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his towel still hanging around his neck. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

gojo spoke up, his voice smooth and laced with affection. “honey, you're gonna burn a hole through that screen the way you're staring at it.”

as geto sat down next to you, you barely noticed, still engrossed in the jewelry catalogue. gojo's words finally drew your attention back to the room, and you looked up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“i can't help it,” you said defensively. “they're so pretty,” you added, your eyes wandering back to your phone screen. geto chuckled softly and reached over, his hand gently taking the phone from yours. his touch was warm and light, yet firm enough to pull your focus away.

you softly protested, “hey...” your eyes followed as geto held your phone, a pout forming on your lips. “it was getting good,” you mumbled, a hint of frustration in your voice as you watched him take the phone away. your gaze lingered on the screen, clearly longing to go back to admiring the jewelry, but geto's gentle but firm hold kept you from diving back into your shiny distraction.

“i know, sweetheart, but you've been glued to that screen for so long,” geto said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. he set your phone down on the bedside table, making sure it was well-out of your reach.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the little display of rebellion in your pout and the stubbornness in your eyes. “don't worry,” he teased, “we'll make sure you get all the shiny pretty things you want.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but gojo's words took the wind out of your sails. the idea of getting all the jewelry you wanted was too tempting to resist. your pout slowly faded, replaced by a curious expression.

“all of them?” you asked, your voice soft and timid, your gaze shifted to them, a hint of skepticism in your eyes. geto smiled, a knowing smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “of course,” he reassures, “whatever your heart desires.”

you tried to hold back your smile, sucking it in for a brief moment, but the excitement was too much to contain. your eyes lit up as you finally let your smile break free, beaming brightly. “okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with happiness, the idea of getting everything you wanted making you giddy with excitement.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their own smiles mirroring your happiness. they loved how easy it was to make you happy. gojo chuckled, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “you're practically vibrating with excitement,” he teased, his hand reached out to ruffle your hair.

geto leaned in slightly, his tone serious but filled with fondness, “we'll give you everything you want, my sweetheart.”

your smile grew even wider in their words, warmth flooding your chest as you looked between them. “i’m going to wear the necklace for our anniversary,” you declared, your voice filled with excitement and affection. the thought of showing off something they got for you on such a special day made your heart flutter.

you glanced back at the phone on the bedside table, your mind already imagining how perfect it would look with your outfit. “it’s going to be perfect,” you added, your eyes shining as you thought about the upcoming celebration with them.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, smiles tugging at the corners of their lips as they took in your excitement. gojo leaned back against the pillows, his eyes warm and adoring as he watched you.

“you'll look absolutely beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “we can't wait to see you wear it.” geto added, his own smile growing wider, “it'll be the perfect accessory to match your gorgeous dress that we'll be buying you for the occasion.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest as gojo gently tugged on your arm, guiding you to climb onto the bed. with a soft smile, you nestled between them, the familiar comfort of being surrounded by their warmth putting you at ease. as you settled in, geto reached for your phone on the bedside table and handed it back to you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“let’s find you another jewels,” geto suggested, his voice low and filled with affection as he encouraged you to continue your search. with both of them beside you, their attention fully on you, the moment felt perfect. your excitement renewed, you eagerly returned to the jewelry catalog, ready to pick out the next piece with their help.

gojo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulled you closer against him. his warmth emanated from his body, and you could feel it seeping into yours, while geto leaned over your shoulder, his chin resting lightly on it as he looked at the screen with you.

as you scroll through the jewelry catalog, they both chimed in, suggesting pieces here and there, offering opinions, and throwing in playful comments. every time you paused on something you liked, they made sure to remind you that they would get it for you.

I wish Bill Cipher x Reader fanfics we’re more like Herb and Scarlet OverKill’s relationship, I’m tired of the beauty and the beast tropes, keep Bill evil >:(

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Breeding, Overstimulation, Creampie, Tiddies

Lilias's eyes watch your form dart across the room, diligently patching up cuts and scraps Silver and Sebek had garnered from their training. Goodness, would you make a good mother.

…

Lilia pats himself on the back for such a wonderful idea, scooping you into his arms the moment you’re done with the two.

…

“Lil…Lilia…!” Your hands grip the bedsheets below you, your nails digging deep into your skin with every thrust he delivers to your insides. “So… Much…! T-Too much..!” Squelch sounds resonate through the room, strands of your cum and his connecting your lower bodies in a string of pure lust. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s cum inside you, if you had to guess, maybe 5…?

Meanwhile you’re on your 8th orgasm of the night, you’re on the verge of your 9th with how well Lilas thumb grinds into your clit. Your walls flutter around his girth, Lilia quietly praising you for such a wondrous performance.

“Just give me one more… We need… Hah… To make sure…!” There’s more…?! You’re about to tell him to give you a break, but the moment he resumes his thrusts, your words leave your lips immediately, each blow to your g-spot making you bite your lip and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Low pants coming from you as you feel the old fae’s hips stutter, pushing as deep as he can into your insides, slowly filling your cervix with even more of his love for you, his seed no doubt taking root within you.

He brushes the strands of hair that stick to his forehead to the side, laughing as he falls on top of you, not daring to move his flaccid dick from your cunt, he wants it to take the first try. His cheeks rests on your chest, his fingers playing with your nipples in between his fingers.

“You will make a beautiful mother.”

Your fingers cup his cheek, a smile taking place on your lips. “I’m sure Silver will be happy with another sibling.” Your fondness is dissipated as quickly as it came, your eyes squinting at the man. “Really…? Oh…!” Your head is thrown back into the pillow when Lilia takes your nipple into his mouth, his fingers back to work on your clit, slow thrusts beginning to pick up pace.

Your husband, Is hard, again.

“How did you get…?! Ahh…!”

“You showed me just how amazing of a mother you’d be.”

Seems you’ll be stuck here for the rest of the night. Even longer if your legs decide to not work tomorrow…

if you can't date for love, date for money.

ruggie bucchi remembers receiving this advice well. back when the news of his acceptance into night raven college felt like a dream, when the congratulations and well wishes from his neighbors back home clung to him like the subtle glow of streetlights at night. those days felt... fragile. breakable. there was a subtle tension in the air as he pondered whether the haughty halls of the academy would change him into someone he didn't recognize. he knew hunger pangs and cool nights on the savannah, not whatever bullshit academia had in store.

some of the folks his age-- deeper into their twenties, a bridge he had just begun to cross, with more life experience and cynicism under their belts-- had made jokes about him getting hitched to someone with enough money to give him a good life. money. status. no worries about where your next meal is coming from or if treating a broken leg can leave you homeless. hey ruggie. make sure you pick real good, okay? maybe if your in-laws are rich enough, you can get us all out of here!

ruggie was never one to have romantic fantasies. his ideal partner had a fat wallet and a retirement fund, a formless blob devoid of anything other than the sense of security only money can provide. rich kids just didn't get it. the scars of poverty ran deep.

why, then, did he not follow that advice given to him all that time ago?

his feet carried him across the icy steps of ramshackle, dry knuckles shoved into a threadbare coat, letting the puff of warm air from his tired sigh keep his nose from freezing over. he let himself into ramshackle dorm with a customary knock. the warm crackle of the fireplace greeted him, chasing away the clod draft he'd brought in as he left the entryway.

"i got some extra thaumarks from leona today." he announced upon spotting you in the common room.

"and i got my paycheck from the mostro lounge!"

your smile was infectious. an involuntary shyeheehee left his lips as you scrambled up to your feet, throwing your arms around him in greeting as he teased you for your eagerness.

getting paid was the excuse you had for making dinner together biweekly. when the strain of bills felt less heavy and spirits were lifted, you'd venture out to sam's shop and pick up something to make together. it was a night of luxury, of indulgence, the two of you feeling spoiled to have a meal your classmates would more than likely scoff at.

you were not the rich suitor of ruggie's dreams. magicless and lost in a new world, you'd managed to scrape by doing odd jobs and living in the rickety shack known as ramshackle dorm, all without complaint. he saw himself in you. scrappy. clever. there was an optimism in you that enticed ruggie to stay, even if it meant scraping by for the foreseeable future. "date for money, not love" was a proverb lost to the wind the moment you held a spoon up to his lips and urged him to try whatever you'd been mixing in that pot across the kitchen.

... well, not all advice is good advice. ruggie would rather spend the rest of his life shoving thaumarks into mason jars with you than in some spoiled rich person's mansion, anyways.

a/n: ruggie bucchi, contender for Most Boyfriend twst character of all time

Honeybun

Just a short Ruggie x Reader for my friend Mah (@midnightmah07) I told you I would write a Ruggie x Reader lol ♡ Enjoy! ♡

You laugh as his arms circle your waist from behind, doing his best to take a bite out of the honeybun in your hand.

"Ruggie!" you shout, feeling him nuzzle your neck as he laughs along with you.

"C'mon, just one bite?" he pretends to beg, trying to sound innocent. You can tell he's trying to distract you though, reaching for the honeybun when your head is turned.

"There's a whole box of them on the counter!" you remind him, gesturing to the box in question. He shakes his head, pulling you in closer.

"But you're not holding them, are you?" You turn your head at his words, finally meeting his eyes. The grin on his face is teasing, his eyes full of affection.

"I want this one" he says, never looking away from your face. Was Ruggie... flirting with you?

While you were distracted he takes the honeybun out of your hand, laughing as he pulls away from you.

"Thanks, honeybun!" he teases, running off. You shake your head, knowing there was no point following him. As you take another honeybun out of the box, you smile, laughing to yourself. It tastes sweeter than before ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

Hi!! I’ve been loving your writing so far! And I agree, there’s not enough Ruggie love! mayhaps we can get a Ruggie x fem!reader is like Mitsuri Kanroji from demon slayer? Like she’s all happy and touchy and he’s just really flustered by everything she does (not sure if you’re comfortable talking about body types because Mitsrui is very curvy, so if you want to pls do!) the ending is up to you, just make it super fluffy

🩷

Hi 🩷-san!

I'm so glad you've been enjoying my writing so far!! Thank you! >w<

I'm so sorry this took so long! I'll be honest....I've only seen the 1st season of demon slayer. Shame on me! I need to continue watching it lol

Not sure if this is true to Mitsuri's character, but I tried my best. 🫶 It's one of the reasons this took so long 😆

TW: Guy being rude and pushy. Reader has a curvy body.

"Here! I got this for you. Make sure you stay hydrated!"

"I had some extra sandwiches that I packed for you. Here~"

"Oh. Your hair is a bit of a mess. Let me fix it for you."

Ruggie just sat on a bunch with his hands in his lap with a deep blush on his face. His ears were flat against his head as he felt you run your hand through his hair. Outside of the physical affection, it also didn't help that your rather busty chest was right in front of his face! He didn't know where to look!!

He wasn't sure why you started to dote and pamper him, but all Ruggie knew was he didn't know how to handle it. The hyena had to always fend for himself. To find his own food and to help provide for his family and friends back home. This sudden onslaught of attention left him feeling at a loss.

Not that it was a bad feeling or anything. Being treated with kindness by a beautiful and sexy woman was surprisingly....nice. More so than he would have thought, considering how females were back in the Sunset Savanna.

"There we go." You said after removing your hand from his hair. "You really need to learn to take better care of yourself, Ruggie."

Ruggie just nodded his head before glancing away from you with his face still red. "Y-yeah." Even the tone you used with him was so sweet and caring! His heart was having a hard time handling it! Clearing his throat, the hyena stood up as he gave you a small smile. "Got class coming up soon, so I'll catch you later."

"Okay. I have some time after classes today if you want to go out together? I heard they have a new flavor of donut." You said with a smile as you noticed his ear twitch at the mention of his favorite food.

"I'll meet you by the statues of the sevens after class." Ruggie said with a smile before he headed off to class.

As you watched him leave, you turned to head towards your own class. You have always admired Ruggie's tenacity, and despite what people thought of him, you liked him, and other people's opinions weren't going to change what you saw.

After the day came to an end, you stood by the statues of the great seven as you waited on Ruggie. A short while later, he came running up to you before the both of you headed off into town.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." You said with a laugh as you watched Ruggie happily munch away on a couple of donuts he was holding.

"Of course. You can't go wrong with a good donut." He replied with a grin. "Wait here. I'll go grab us something to drink." He said before heading off towards a small stall that was selling drinks.

As you waited for Ruggie to return, you were suddenly addressed by some random stranger.

"Here there, beautiful." The man said grin as his eyes moved up and down your body. "How about we go get something to eat? I'll show you a good time."

Instantly, an annoyed look crossed your face as you made no effort to hide it. "I'm with someone." You said, hoping they would get the point that you had no interest.

"Come on, baby. Don't be like that. We can have some fun together." The strange said as he moved closer to you. The look he was giving you made you feel sick. It was a look you've gotten before and one you hated. The look like you were just some kind of object or plaything. It wasn't like you were aware of your body or looks, but you also didn't see any reason to be ashamed either. It's annoying people like this guy who needed to learn boundaries.

Just as the stranger started to  reach out towards you, you took a step back but stopped when you noticed he seemed to be struggling.

""W-what...the....?" The man grunted as his body shook lightly before he turned around and started to walked towards a large fountain that was nearby. As he reached the edge, you watched as he man suddenly threw himself into the fountain as water splashed up.

With surprise writen all over your face you suddenly heard a voice as someone walked past you towards the man who suddenly gasped as he emerged from thr water in the fountain.

"The lady said she wasn't interested." Ruggie said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Hope the water here helped to cool you down a bit."

"You bastard! What did you do to me?!" The man yelled as he pulled himself out of the fountain.

"Not that it's any of your business, but you should consider yourself lucky that all I did was make you to a bath. If you want to see what I'm really capable of, then by all means, continue to make an ass out of yourself. I don't mind at all. Shyeheehee." He said with a grin as he waited for the man's next move.

Unsure of this hyena power and the whispers coming from the crowd that was form, the man just huffed before he turned around and left.

"Damn jerk." Ruggie whispered under his breath. While he was waiting in line for the drinks, he happened to glance over and noticed some guy getting a bit too close to you and how uncomfortable you looked. In that moment, Ruggie felt his skin crawl at the sight, and before he knew it, he had already activated his signature spell on the guy. No one messed with you like that!

As he turned around to check on you, Ruggie let out a small "oof" when a body came colliding into his. Stumbling back a bit, he glanced down to see you with your face hidden against his chest and your arms wrapped around him in a hug.

Feeling his face grow hot again, Ruggie just kept his arms up as he wasn't sure what to do. "A-are you okay?" He asked as he blushed heavily at the feeling of your body pushed up against his.

"Thank you..." You muttered against Ruggie's chest before she slowly glanced up at him. "I always feel safe with you."

Ruggie froze as he felt like he had been just shot through the heart as you looked up at him with your large eyes and the light blush that dusted your cheeks. Ahhhh! He really was becoming weak when it came to you.

Relaxing a bit, Ruggle slowly returns the hug before he places his hand against the back of your head. "You don't have to worry when you're with me." He said without thinking, and almost immediately, he wanted to slap himself. Since when did he become so corny!? You, on the other hand, just smiled as you pushed yourself up closer to Ruggie's face.

Once close enough, you placed a gentle kiss against his cheek before smiling. "As thank you for being my knight, I'll treat you out to some dinner."

Feeling like his heart was going to explode from his chest, Ruggie cleared his throat before he took your hand in his. "Let's just enjoy the rest of our date."

At the word date, you felt your eyes widen at the fact that he said it first and the fact that you had been debating on how to officially as him out. Feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, you wrapped yourself around Ruggie's arm before smiling. "Mm!" You really couldn't have asked for anyone better to be with.

Had a popsicle and decided that blue tongue is cool. Also I am a believer in long, monstrous eel tongue and I will take my stand on this hill.

Tw: suggestive

Sometimes, a hot day gets the better of you. Cradling a popsicle stick in between your fingers, you watch the clouds waft by listlessly. Taking a lick every now and then, savouring the cool, tangy flavours running through your tongue.

You purposefully escaped outside to enjoy your sweet treat, if only to avoid snack thieves. Hey, they want a popsicle?

They’ll have to shell out their own cash to get one.

Allowing yourself one smug, victorious chuckle, you open your mouth once more, ready to take a bite….

However,a heavy hand lands firmly on your shoulder, a lanky shadow looming over your body.

Someone’s warm breath wafts against your ear, the sensation burning hot. Hell, you swear you could feel razor sharp fangs just grazing over your earlobes ever so slightly.

“Are ya’ gonna eat that all by yourself, Shrimpy?”

Whipping around, you come face to face with a pair of mismatched eyes, and a lopsided grin. His earring was shaped like diamonds, twinkling in the sweltering summer’s sun. Floyd Leech, one of the infamous Leech twins.

Now, a would-be desert thief.

You plop the rest of the popsicle into your mouth, desperately trying to fend off your attacker. Floyd doesn’t take this challenge lightly, grappling with you all the while. His fingers pinch the stick, before tugging it out.

Only to reveal nothing but a wooden stick left. You grin at him mischievously, sticking out your now blue tongue at him.

“You snooze, you lose, sucker!”

You grin at him, snickering at the disappointment on Floyd’s face. Yet his lips still manage to curl up into a devious smirk, as his hand reaches for your chin. Grabbing it, digging his fingernails firmly into your flesh.

Before you could even say a single word, his lips are pressing against yours. His lips were soft, moving against your mouth with a relentless hunger. You could feel the ghost of his fangs graze the plush of your lips before he bit down, the metallic tang of blood filling your mouth. Gasping in shock, you part your lips. Floyd takes this time to strike,his tongue slipping into your mouth with all the slyness of a slippery little eel.

He kisses you like a man starving, his tongue twisting against yours, slipping into every crevice it could reach. Floyd kisses you like he’s trying to eat you whole, devouring every single thing he could reach.

And god, you would be willing to offer up your everything to him.

Once he finally pulls away, you’re clutching onto you, breaths coming out in haggard pants. Your lungs trying to fill up whatever air it just lost to Floyd’s whims. Floyd looks at you with a smug smirk dancing across his lips, practically beaming with satisfaction.

You shoot him an annoyed glare, only for him to coo at you rather condescendingly, kneading your cheek in between his fingers.

“Aw, don’t ya look at me like that. You were the one who didn’t wanna share.”

Just as he finishes the sentence, Floyd’s tongue slips out of his mouth. Longer then any human’s, it narrows at the very tip, like a dagger’s blade. Yet that wasn’t what shocked you.

The entirety of it dyed a light blue.

The same blue that was on yours.

Floyd winks at you coyly, before sneaking in another light kiss on your astonished lips.

“Thanks for the treat, shrimpy~”

i miss salauddin sm pls give me more

hmmm I miss him too. ok how about some tooth rotting fluff?

Salauddin wakes up in the middle of the night, an hour before Fajr prayer. He always wakes up at the same time at night. He doesnt look to the other side of the bed, but he sees your form lying there, sleeping.

You never wake up for Tahajudd like him.

Salauddin makes his ablution, performs the Tahajudd prayer, making dua for you before anything else. He prays that you're always happy, prays for forgiveness from Allah on your behalf, prays to meet you in heaven. And then he makes a short prayer for himself, forgiveness for his past and future sins. He then prays Fajr, the morning prayer.

Salauddin then sits on the prayer mat, and he feels you sit beside him. He takes your hand in his, and starts tasbeeh on your fingers, counting them on your hands so that you get the reward too. He closes his eyes and he feels you lay your head on his lap. Usually, he would smile, but not today. He's mad at you today, and you know that. But you wont ever apologise, and he wont ever make you. He just needs to let it pass.

With his eyes closed, he recites the Quran. He's a hafidh, and he knows you're one too. But he still recites better. However, he loses his concentration today due to his frustration with you, and he hears the amusement in your voice as you correct his pronounciation, correct his mistakes.

Still he does not react. He keeps his eyes closed, his voice monotonous, not showing any signs of fluster. You cant get away with it everytime, not so easily at least.

He's mad at you. And you will know it.

After finishing recitation, he gets up and begins getting ready for the day. He hears you calling his name gently-

"Yusuf. Yusuf."

Yusuf. Only you are allowed to call him by his real name. And you use it to your favour, you know how his heart flutters at hearing his name roll from your tongue.

"Yusuf."

No. Not today.

He stands in front of the vanity, fixing his clothes. He wears his chaddar- the white chaddar you adore. Usually, he would wrap it around your shoulders, but not today.

Salauddin picks up the bottle of kohl, its the same one he bought you. He hears you whine his name as he places the kohl in his eyes. Usually, he would line your eyes with kohl before his, but not today.

Not after what you did last night.

He sits down in the balcony, the servant leaving a some dates and hot tea. He feels you sit opposite to him, trying to make him look at you, but he instead kept his eyes focused on the pyramids.

"Yusuf?"

Salauddin would usually feed you dates from his hands, after he took the seed out. He knows how it annoys you when your hands get sticky from the juices. But not today. Today, he only took the seeds out and put it in your plate and poured tea in your cup. You never had to use your own plate and cup, not when Salauddin fed you from his plate and shared his cup with you, blowing on the hot drink.

Not today.

He walks out of the room without eating, to attend to his duties. He didnt feel like having breakfast today, but he hopes you're not starving yourself at his expense... wherever you are. You dont follow after him when he left, you're a little short tempered like that. If he ignores you a few times, you give up trying to get his attention until he comes to you himself. You're not like him, you dont have patience for your beloved like he does.

But not today. Maybe some time apart will make you think about what you did.

Salauddin is fine as noon comes and he offers Dhudhr prayer, still no sight of you. You're probably taking a nap. He does get a little concerned after praying Asr, no sign of you all afternoon. Did you sleep through lunch?

Finally disturbed, he gives in and goes to look for you. He goes to the bedroom first, no sign of you. Then he makes his way to the dining hall, the library, before finally going to the stables.

He spots your figure there, standing in front of your favourite horse Rumi.

As always, he comes to you.

"Y/n."

He watches you turn away from him, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff. You're mad at him.

Salauddin's lip twitches.

"Y/n." He walks closer, coming up behind you.

"No." You say sharply as he tries to turn you around, shrugging his hand off your shoulder.

"Y/n-"

"No. I'm mad at you." You state.

"I know. I'm sorry." He apologises, as always. You never apologise.

You turn around, frowning at him. "You ignored me all day."

"I'm sorry."

"You misbehaved with me."

"I'm sorry."

"You didnt feed me."

"I'm sorry."

"You were mad at me." Were? So you know he's let go of his anger?

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You didnt visit me all day."

"I'm sorry. I was going to now." He offered his hand. "Lets go?"

You smiled, finally letting go off the anger as you let him encase your hand.

Salauddin walked out of the stables, telling the servant to take care of the horses, especially Rumi.

A few minutes later, he reached the place he visited the most with you only.

The sun had set, the sky turning dark to indicate the time.

He looked at you. "Why dont you go in and wait for me? I just need to pray Maghrib."

You walked inside while he offered the evening prayer. And like every prayer, he prayed for you first, then his subjects and then himself.

He finished his prayer, and stood outside the entrance. He noticed a small flower growing outside. A pink flower. He plucked it gently.

With a deep inhale, he walked inside. His steps were gradual, despite it being darker than earlier. He knows you're not scared of the dark. Where you are, he hopes its not as dark.

He spots you sitting on the ground, waiting for him, looking sad. You perk up when you notice him.

"You came." You smiled. "You took so long."

"I'm sorry." He joined you on the ground, sitting next to you. "Here." He showed you the pink flower, watching your eyes lit up.

"Wow." You were in awe. "Its so pretty. Come on, place it."

With a smile, he nodded at your request. Salauddin took the flower and placed it on the grave.

The two of you sat in silence, and he felt you put your head on his shoulder.

"Only one flower? You should bring more." You complained.

He nodded. "Next time." He could never say no to you.

How could he explain to you that no matter how many flowers he dresses your grave with, you wont come back.

Salauddin stayed there for a bit longer, wiping his tears before returning home with you.

He offered the night prayer Isha, before lying in bed, where you were already waiting for him.

"Yusuf?" He opened his eyes. You were both lying on your sides, facing each other.

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry for not coming in your dreams last night." You pouted, surprising him as you apologised for the first time.

"I promise I'll visit tonight!"

Salauddin smiled. "Okay."

He could never be mad at you for long. He forgave you when you left this world, he can forgive everything else too.

Ngl, I cried writing this.

he wants another brat

sure, you loved dating toji fushiguro. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!

“c’mon baby.. i want another brat…”

toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!

“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”

you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for another kid right now.”

he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. You know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'd look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you again."

you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”

his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”

with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”

request for a fic where reader is absolutely spoiled by her boys? (can be absolutely any pairing you like poly!marauders x reader, wolfstar, poly!moonwater x reader, Bartylus x reader…..literally anything)

the boys love to spoil her with gifts, breakfast in bed, shopping trips, outings etc, (not necessarily expensive, just doting), even if one of the boys is less inclined they're along for the ride, and perhaps somewhat exasperated by all the antics

…can you tell my love language is gift giving and receiving?

feel free to add more plot because the prompt is quite broad? but do whatever you want my love!

I trust you with my life <3

*tip-toes in* hiii there *side steps through the door* hellooo.... *awkwardly places this fic in front of you from your request back in March* thanks so much for your request (and patienceeee) - no but in all reality, I knew from the second I got this request that it had to be these two - I hope I did it justice!! xx

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who they love to spoil [743 words]

CW: extravagant & expensive gift giving as a love language, reader tries to be mad at them about it (she fails, though)

“Not so fast!” You said instead of hello, fighting the snicker that threatened to undermine your severity as you watched Barty and Evan stop in their tracks like they’d been frozen on the spot. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The two boys shared a sideways glance before Evan slowly relaxed his stance. “Well-”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Treasure.” Barty interrupted swiftly, giving off an air of faux nonchalance as he placed the shopping bags he had in his hands on the side of the bed and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “What are we doing for dinner tonight? What are we doing about climate change? What are we doing with our lives? It’s too broad a question.” 

“Barty.” You scolded him. 

“Y/N.” He replied.

“Evan.” You tried instead.

“Yes, sugar?” He responded salaciously.

You closed your eyes and heaved a breath; they made it so difficult to be mad at them. “What did you two buy?”

Evan’s face spread into a cheshire cat smile. “Funny you should ask, darling.” And with a flourish, he and Barty unceremoniously dumped the bags out onto the bed leaving it covered in a menagerie of clothes, bags, perfumes, and what appeared to be boxes of jewellery. 

“But why?” You beseeched anxiously instead of saying thank you; feeling your face flush at the very loud and very expensive expression of appreciation now littering your bed. 

“Uhm, because we love you?” Barty answered as if that was somehow a trick question and he couldn’t believe it was actually that easy to answer.

“This is too much.” You responded.

“Says who?” Evan queried.

“Me.”

Barty snorted. “How’s it feel to be wrong, then?”

“Barty.”

“I don’t understand what the problem is!” He continued, raising his hands helplessly. “We have a lot of money, we have great taste, and we have you; ergo…” He said, finishing his statement by gesturing vaguely at the pile of gifts they’d purchased. 

“Great taste indeed.” Evan agreed as he held a dress up against you. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Ev, there is hardly any fabric on this dress.” You argued, causing his face to pinch in thought.

“Hm, you’re right. Okay, we can return that one if you don’t like it.” He said before shoving the dress back into one of the various bags. 

You let your eyes trace the rest of the garments littering your bed wondering if you might be able to convince them to return the rest of it too.

“No, we cannot return it all. Don’t be rude, babydoll.” Evan reprimanded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and chidingly patting you on the arse.

“Do you like this one, Tres? I picked it because I thought it’d bring out your eyes.” Barty asked then, holding up an outfit with no shortage of excitement in his eyes that finally forced a smile from you. 

“It’s very nice, Bee; thank you.” You relented, running your fingers along the fabric up to the price tag, only to have it yanked from your grasp before you could see how much it cost.

“Perfect.” He said quickly, pulling the tag from the garment and shoving it into his pocket. “You can wear this one tonight; we have reservations at the new restaurant downtown at 8:30!”

Silence returned to the room once they both left and you let out a slow breath, shaking your head in fondness as you looked at the many gifts they’d splurged on for you. 

There wasn’t even any reason, which always somehow made it feel that much more special; they didn’t go out shopping because it was your birthday or a holiday; they simply went shopping because they were thinking of you, saw things you might like, and bought it just because they could. 

You were a lucky girl, and you’d go so far as to call yourself spoiled, which you were sure was exactly what Evan and Barty wanted you to be even if you made it quite difficult to do so. 

“Oh, and if you do wear that outfit Barty picked out tonight,” Evan added, sticking his head in the doorway, “there’s a matching Hermés bag to go with it, too.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see your mouth open in shock or hear your horrified “Evan!” before he was shutting the door behind him and taking off down the hall.

Spoiled indeed.

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”

“Kissy!”

You look up from your book, a hand on your distended belly as you peer over the edge of the bed. Your attendants rush forward, attempting to stop the little baby bee from bothering you as you rest after being filled with eggs.

“Hmm? What was that, little one?”

An attendant lifts the little one up so you don’t have to crane your neck to look at him, knowing that you would never ignore one of your babies.

“Kissy, mama!”

You take the little one into your arms, laughing as he puts his fuzzy little hands on your cheeks. “You want a kiss, hmm? My little baby is so needy.”

You kiss his nose, and he buzzes with excitement, toddling away and out the door.

“Now then… let’s get you comfortable my queen, it’s late and-“

Your attendant is interrupted when the little one returns, followed by all your other children.

“Kissy!”

“Mama, mama!”

“Kissy, mama!”

Seems like you won’t get to rest any time soon, you have too many little noses to kiss.

———————

SFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96-blog @bubblez-blop @snugglyshoji @wanderlustingcastaway @amberexe2 @swasti8854 @an-ever-angry-bi @nenggie

I’m writing a fic about this but I need to get some of it out. Logan quite literally is so used to being alone all the time. At the beginning of your relationship, he would sometimes get jumpy because he forgot there was another person sweetly making him a cup of coffee in the kitchen. When he actually gets used to having someone around, he is literally attached to your hip. He’s actually so touchy and no one would ever think about that. He just can’t get the words out but just loves to give you some lovin’. Another thing about being alone is the insults. He’s so used to the anti-mutant rhetoric and also when people make him a villain. He brushes it off, but there’s always a part of him that sticks with those hateful words. And then when they say it while you’re walking down the street, logan tenses and tells them to fuck off. He fully expects you to run with him, but no. You’re standing your ground and getting into the random strangers face. You tell them that if they ever say anything bad about logan again, you’d give them hell. Like you’re literally out of breath, screaming and practically growling with anger. And the happiness just surges through him. For once in his life, someone has defended him. For one in his life, someone has truly cared for him in a way that sees him as a human being. You’re standing up for him and even though it might not seem that big of a deal, logan cannot stop smiling all the way home. He finally got what he wanted. He never had to deal with anything alone anymore. He had you.

request ! 😌

i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!

— Mama Love

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.

warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!

42!miles morales

this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.

at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.

she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.

but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.

that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.

you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.

many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son

“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”

other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.

one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.

you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.

one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.

never complained to either of you again.

his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp

miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.

now, neither of you takes it off.

then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.

you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.

tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.

you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.

she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.

and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.

would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.

“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”

miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.

“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”

yeah, he never yelled at you after that.

or like ever did anything that would hurt you.

miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.

you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.

1610!miles morales

now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.

but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.

it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.

miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.

one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.

tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.

she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.

tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.

one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.

his mom made sure to make things clear for him.

“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.

he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.

after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.

tía morales and you went out a lot.

like going shopping,

buying ice cream,

going to restaurants where miles tagged along.

miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.

he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.

he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.

“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.

yeah, never complained again.

but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.

you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).

she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.

in the end you and tía morales are besties.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

red lips - k. kenma

in which a famous streamer goes live with his girlfriend for a well known challenge— the buldak noodle challenge

pairing: kozume kenma x f!reader

tags/warnings: just cute fluff, cursing, established relationship, timeskip, written in 2nd point of view, reader’s spice tolerance isn’t that good

“Hey guys, kozuken here with—“

“Me! hi chat!” Kenma couldn’t help but smile as he watched you reveal yourself on stream, waving happily at the camera as everyone settled into the stream and started spamming the chat box with comments and greetings. He doesn’t know how you somehow convinced him into doing this challenge with you. He remembers watching people do that stupid cinnamon challenge years ago and judging them for putting straight powder in their mouth, now here he is. In front of millions about to eat the world known “spiciest noodles ever.”

“Alright so— today we have the uhh…buldak hot chicken flavour ramen” Kenma starts off as he holds the empty package on the screen, to save time, the noodles were already cooked and “evenly” separated into two bowls, courtesy of you. “And i guess the challenge is to finish the bowl without literally dying or having to get milk”

“it smells and looks pretty good though” you observe as you take a hold of the bowl and use your chopsticks to mix them around a bit, keeping out the part where your eyes literally started watering when the hot steam hit your face the first time you added the sauce into the pot. “Yeah, nothing more appetizing than literal red.. orange looking noodles that burns my nose” Kenma says sarcastically as you roll your eyes playfully with a smile “You’re only saying that because you held the pot right up to your nose and smelled it!” “Did i?” laughter fell between you too as you playfully jabbed his side and he tried swatting your hand away.

It’s not like you hated spice, you tried to build up your tolerance but that always ended up in runny noses and ice cream. Kenma on the other hand didn’t care for it much. In general, he never liked trying new things. He stuck to what he knew and avoided trying things he knew he wouldn’t like. Despite that, you somehow convinced him to try these “viral” noodles that were going around the internet. People were good at faking reactions for views or money so you (and admittedly, him) were curious as to if these noodles were as “bad” as they seemed. Plus, it’s not like he could ever say no to you.

You held up the bowl to the camera as you pulled the noodles up with your chopsticks, displaying the red fiery noodles to the screen. “Oh by the way i added the whole sauce packet— you know? for the whole experience?” you added on as you retracted the bowl from the camera and held it in your hands as you looked at your boyfriend. You can tell by his face that he wasn’t excited or happy at that at all— Kenma wasn’t very good at hiding his distasteful face. “Of course you did” he huffs out as he grabs his bowl too and held his chopsticks, but there was no malice in his voice whatsoever. You were right anyways, if you’re gonna do some food challenge you might as well go all or nothing.

“Cheers!” You smiled as you took a generous amount into your mouth, Kenma watching you as he took a more cautious bite instead. “Oh wow— it’s actually pretty good” you say as you nod and look at your boyfriend as you continued chewing, but as you continued chewing the flavour intensified more and the burning feeling finally started to rest on your tongue. Kenma was already sweating in his merch hoodie, feeling the spice going down his throat and out his nose as he thinned his lips out and tried not to show a huge display of a reaction. Both of you in silence as you looked at each other, waiting for the other one to break. There was never an agreement on what the “winner” would get but you’re sure it would just be bragging rights, that and the fact that his whole chat would witness it.

The spice was hitting you in the back of your throat, making your mouth secrete more saliva to try to get rid of the burning sensation. Your resolve was falling but so was his, so now it was just a battle of endurance. Your eyes flickered to the glass of milk on the table and back at your boyfriend, a taunting push to see if he would break but he kept his composure and flickered his eyes to the milk glass as well and smirked lightly. “How are you holding in there?” Kenma teases as he looked at you, trying to ignore the way the spice was coming up again as he talked. “Great— just great.. i’m fine.. yeah” you resort, trying to convince yourself otherwise but you were sweating like crazy and the room felt much hotter than it was 10 minutes ago. You silently cursed at yourself for taking such a confident bite at the beginning. Watching too many mukbangs gave you some sort of will and determination that it wouldn’t be as bad, but obviously that’s coming to bite you in the ass now.

Kenma spent years with you, learning your body language and different behaviours. He knows you were fighting to not break by the way you were gripping your knees and occasionally wiping your palms against your pants. He knows you’re sharing the same burning feeling in his mouth and it definitely wasn’t pleasant. Kenma also knew how absolutely stubborn you are, but this spice wasn’t the good type of spice— no, this spice was burning and it felt like his taste buds were shrivelling up in real time. If Kenma was with Kuroo or anyone else, he would suck it up and hang in there to play to long game until the other person gives up. His dignity was too precious to risk and his competitive nature would’ve kicked in. But this was you, and god he loved you so much.

He reached over to the table and took the glass of milk and swallowed it down, the moment you saw him basically surrender, you reached over to grab your own glass and swallowed down the cooling liquid as well. Feeling the instant relief to the burning that once surrounded your mouth. You were honestly surprised that Kenma was the one to back down, you were sure that he was gonna just bite his tongue and hang in there. But, you weren’t gonna complain anyways. Panting lightly as you lowered the glass and finally feeling your body cool down, you look over at your boyfriend who equally looked relieved. He reached over with a napkin and wiped your lips that were covered in the sauce from the noodles, you didn’t even notice the burning on your lips because you were too focused on everywhere else. “Feeling better?” “Mhm— and i feel even more better knowing i just beat you!” Kenma smirked at that as he flicked your forehead “You want ice cream? there’s some in the freezer—“ You didn’t even waste a second to get up and immediately leave the room, basically cutting him off as you rushed out.

Kenma watched you leave with a fond smile, when you were out of sight he moved the two bowls aside and cleared his table a bit as he looked at his chat that were flooding with messages. “What do you mean i let her win, chat?” he says, acting clueless as he leans back on his chair. His eyes skimmed through the messages that kept coming in “What can i say? my girlfriend is just that much better” he says sincerely. He didn’t need to admit out loud how absolutely smitten he was with you, everything showed in his actions. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out how in love with you he is. And he was absolutely okay with that.

m.list

— what the cat dragged in

characters: papa emeritus iii/you, cardinal copia, nameless ghouls, sister imperator

wc & genre/notes: 8.1k – strangers to friends/lovers, fluff, suggestive content (minor discussion of kinks and terzo being terzo during mummy dust. That part starts with “I’d say you’re deflecting,” and ends with the divider.) neighbors au, reader has a cat… I’ll b honest idk what else to say

a/n: this is My blog and I get to choose how cringe I want to be. Yes I said I’d not write for ghost and did it anyways after one (1) bad day. Yes this file is titled “hatehatehatemyself” on Google drive. The part after the burgundy divider is an optional ending. You can read the entire thing as platonic or slowly growing into something romantic. have fun x

Head turned left and right, looking around, no sign around.

The neighborhood is rather quiet today, the sun up and everyone out, at work or else. Rustling of grass with each breeze reaches your ears, and each time you whip your head toward the direction with hope.

In a breath, you cross the road and walk and walk and walk. It’s a long one, not unbearably so but still a little unnerving. You don’t recall many people going this way after all.

Now standing before the grand door, the little mailbox a few meters away awfully standing out, you raise your fist and knock.

And wait.

And waiting you do for almost a minute, if it weren’t for the noises you hear, a clutter of something, a shatter there and finally footsteps.

The door swings open– though it looks too heavy to be opened just like that and the man stands tall before you, forearm resting against the frame, leaning his entire weight to it, eyes barely open and you don’t need to see the barely filled bottle he holds to tell he is drunk.

The scent of alcohol reeks off him just enough.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell.

Squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light coming from the sun, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away.

You doubt he has noticed you.

Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this already? He looks trashed, to say the least.

Then he seems to notice you, though he makes so little movement to fix his posture, the belt tied around his waist barely doing its job to hold the robe together.

Decent on the eyes, you’d have thought for the guy, if it wasn’t for the weird face paint.

Getting too far and a little too early on the halloween spirit?

“Ah…” you clear your throat and try again. “So you see, my cat was lost and–”

“Oh perfect! That’s just lovely now.” he cuts you off, quite loud too. Head thrown back, he holds a sneer. “And what, little one ? Decided to come here and accuse us?” bottle dropped on the floor, rolls off to the side, hitting to an end by the door frame. 

With both hands free, he throws them up in mockery, mimicking what you can only think to be a kid’s voice: “‘ Oh no the big bad mean satanists stole my cat and used it for their sick rituals. ’” hands dropped to his sides immediately as he is done with his imitation, he glares down at you: “Well guess what? Buzz off! As if I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with right now. Go find a more creative way to get in sherlock.” 

So they were satanists after all…

Good to know you suppose, not that you care in all honesty. The whole church-like air of the building only gets more confusing for you though.

Before he can close the door to your face, you place your palm against it to stop him. “Hey!” 

The force behind the door comes to a pause, probably didn’t expect you to fight back.

“Listen, Mr. Halloween or whatever poor Jack Skellington look you were going for.” you begin speaking, ignoring the way his face morphs into pure confusion. “How about you listen to people before barking assumptions at them?”

A moment of breath, the resistance behind the door ends completely and he opens it full again, waiting for you to continue but doesn’t seem all too happy.

“My cat likes to go outdoors and one of my neighbors said to me once that he often visits this place. So can I please come in?”

Seeing it written clear that you won’t be leaving any time soon, the guy sighs and steps aside. “Don’t touch anything and don’t leave my sight.”

Footsteps echoing in the hallways, you ‘pspsps’ here and there in hopes of your cat turning around but to no avail.

It’s only when passing a door that the guy pauses and curses to himself, you can hear the hints of an accent.

Turning to face him, he takes in your raised brow as a question.

“Copia has rats– pet rats. Your cat better be a vegan because I will not deal with his whole…” he gestures with his hand at nothing, “mourning or Sister Imperator’s reprimanding if a single one of them is missing.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a well behaving, domesticated cat with manners, thank you very much.” you say and turn your head with a huff.

Copia? Imperator? You have no idea who these guys are but you’re sure you can handle a couple of …dorky satanists, if the rest of them are just like this man baby at least.

You can always leave town before night too, if it comes down to it.

Only few steps away and the man watches as you disappear, yelling after you about ‘what did he say’ and all that bullshit but you couldn’t care any less because there he is, your precious baby!

All pulled up into a cozy little furry ball by the corner under a window, in what appears to be someone’s bedroom.

Pretty messy too.

The man seems to catch sight of you and say something he thinks is amusing, or sleek, from the tone he uses, though you pay no attention to his words or how they suddenly run dry. (‘ well if your eye on me the whole time, you didn’t need to make up an excuse about a lost c –’)

Picking up your cat despite his protests, you turn and thank him with a nod. His words register in your mind with a small delay. 

“Maybe consider tidying up your room, what are you, twelve?” and with that, you exit his warzone of a room and walk back the path you took, with Mr. Whiskers purring in your arms the entire walk home.

The second time your cat goes missing while you’re home, you know better.

Instead of wasting hours searching around, you hike up all the way to that dreaded place and knock on the door with force and impatience.

It is a woman who answers instead.

A woman who does not seem to be the slightest bit impressed.

Staring at her bored face, you take notice of her clothes you can deem as formal for the place, the sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms, you snap out of it, trying to formulate the words regarding your cat and and all.

Whatever thought seems to pass her mind, you conclude that she doesnt care and watch as she leaves the door open, walking back inside. So you hurriedly follow.

“Sleek, black hair you said?” she asks, still walking ahead as you nod– shit, satanist or not, she can’t have an eye at the back of her head now; letting out a hum of affirmation you fasten your steps and try to walk by her side.

Steps come to a halt before a closed door, she knocks firmly, once.

Upon receiving no answer whatsoever, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

They must have quite the savings you think, to have a place with soundproof walls and doors. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and all, you wonder to yourself, couldn’t your cat have picked somewhere …normal to take his afternoon naps.

Paying the scene before her eyes no mind, the woman steps in– is that who the man referred to as Sister Imperator?, and you catch her words about grabbing the darn cat now and continuing his pity party later.

The sounds of sex stop and you can hear someone walking around all the while mumbling something.

Before you can thank the woman however, she turns and walks away.

Less than a minute later the same man from before peeks out his head through the door.

Wearing a different robe this time and doing a poor job of holding your cat, though Mr. Whiskers doesn’t seem to mind, the traitor, he watches as you take the cat from his arms.

As you turn to leave and call it a day, maybe open a bottle of wine and see where the night takes you, a ‘hey!’ catches up to you from behind.

Leaning against the door frame like he did the first time, he waits for you to face him.

“Just let me know next time your cat comes over. I doubt neither you nor Sister would like to become frequent acquaintances.” 

You eye him with a suspicious look. Sure the woman does seem like if she sees you 3 times a week or more for your cat, she might sacrifice you and Mr. Whiskers to Lucifer with her bare hands but hey, you cannot control who answers the door now.

As if sensing your train of thought, or, a part of it, he lets out a sigh, “My windows are pretty wide. Pretend they’re doors or something.”

“...right.” Sounds more and more reassuring with each word for sure, great , thank you Mr. Whiskers.

Then an after thought seems to follow as a whine can be heard from inside his room, “ Just – maybe let me know ahead before you come through the window, yeah ?”

“And I should do that, how?” you ask, wishing the whole encounter to be over “I don’t want you charging me if a stone happens to find its way in.”

From how he mumbles the words ‘charging’ and ‘stone’ confused, it seems to be taking him a while to register your words.

The implication of your words seem to dawn in as his face goes down “Last I checked, cellphones exist.” he states, not sounding too happy about the possible danger his precious windows may face. 

“And how should I know this isn’t some weird excuse to get my number?” you sound skeptical, on the edge, probably finger hovering over that dial button to the police if it wasn’t for the cat in your arms.

At your words though, he chuckles. “I do have a girl in my bed right now, you know?”

“And my question remains unchanged.” staring at him with a dead serious expression, you watch as his amused face falls, his eyes rolling and he shoves a hand down one of his pockets, taking out a pen.

Expectant eyes on you– wait, what is up with his eyes? , he pushes off the cap, shaking his left arm so the robe’s arm can slide off, revealing his skin, waiting. Waiting for you.

“You better not send me any weird crap or call-” you state then say out your phone number.

Well, worst comes to worst, you know a good lawyer.

Third time's the charm is how the saying goes. You have your doubts but perhaps there is truth to it as the man’s ridiculous window idea works.

It takes no time to figure out Mr. Whiskers spends his afternoons there because the rays of sunlight hit just right, and right next to where he sleeps is a comfortable armchair with black and white hair decorating its surface a little.

Few steps ahead of his windows, the view of a wonderful garden has attracted your attention but you know better than to ask, or enter without permission. The amount of times you’ve dropped by increases at record speed, yet the air between you both is still tight.

He lets out a warm laugh when he gets a good look at him once, but when you ask, you get no reply. Surely this cannot be the first tuxedo cat he has ever seen in his life.

One silence after another, he must've sensed how tense and awkward it feels too, as a little after he tries to make conversation and apologize.

So they are a satanic organization, that’s fine.

You’ve always wondered as a kid about the gatherings you’d see within a distance but never bothered to check for yourself.

A rock band to spread their word and message however, now that is odd. You’re starting to think their anti church might be the most normal thing to them.

Yet you remain your silence and let him speak, listen, and try to make as much sense of them as you can because god knows you won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

He says he is– was the frontman of the band, and their beloved antipope , but was dethroned , or so he claims, few days prior to your arrival.

You can understand frustration over something you have dedicated your time and effort into, and for you to be pulled off it without a logical explanation. That explains drinking until the brain shuts down despite that scent of alcohol still stings your senses.

Nodding to his words, you take his apology and leave with Mr. Whiskers that day. He asks if you’d like to see the garden the next time your legs are dangling off the windowsill.

You accept in a heartbeat.

With the weather warming up and all, your cat seems to enjoy the garden as much as you do.

Trees and flowers of all kinds tended to with care and love, you can tell. Each arranged with care, the entire place paints a beautiful picture before your eyes, and endless too.

Same as the window, this becomes a habit too. To stroll in the garden and sit on one of the stone benches, talking or staying like this in silence.

He seems fond of Mr Whiskers for reasons unknown to you, until he pulls out a photograph of someone in what you make out to be a tuxedo of sorts, on a stage no less.

The photograph is of small scale, you cannot make out much of the details, so he takes it upon himself to explain that it is indeed him in the photo and the looks of your cat caught him by surprise because of his looks.

Without waiting for a reaction, he offers to show you the outfit he wore back then, though he sounds a little melancholic about the whole thing still.

Sure , you agree, but keep it to yourself that the regency shirt and black pants look just fine on him.

It blurs at one point you begin visiting even without Mr. Whisker’s presence in his room.

Bursting out into laughter, he looks almost offended at your reaction. “I’m sorry-” your giggles break through as you wipe off a tear, “what did you say it was again?” 

“Emeritus.” he says flatly.

“Emeritus.” you repeat, this time doing a better job at containing the giggling.

“Yes, Emeritus,” he says again and adds, “The third.” 

If your laughter before was loud, this is something beyond, enough to make him go deaf in comparison.

“Okay no, I’m not calling you-”  you bring your hands up to finger quote, “Emeritus The Third.” you say in a serious tone. “And I’m certainly not calling you ‘papa’ or some bullshit title.” you cut in before he can get a word out.

“We’re going to need a nickname, what about ‘em’?”

“Em.” his tone asking ‘are you for real?’, his turn to repeat now.

“Okay no, that’s just as bad, give me some time to th-” hand covering his face, he just shakes his head with a sigh. 

“Just call me Terzo , caro mio.”

Seeing as to no reply from you comes, he removes his hand and looks up. “It means ‘ the third ’ in Italian.”

“Oh,” you manage to say, though you do sound a little different now, perhaps you thought from his reactions you hurt him and now feel sorry about that? 

“Yeah, I can do that, Terzo.” speaking with more confidence now, testing the name on your tongue, you talk more to yourself and nod your head than to him– he finds watching you act like this, how you operate and think as you talk endearing.

You find yourself liking spending time with Terzo more than you’ve realized.

Work is work, adulting is the same and sometimes relationships with friends feel dull or far away.

To say the least, he is interesting. Usually something to catch you off guard or wondering, it is guaranteed your time with him is never one to fall victim to boredom.

So he speaks of his life, of things he has done on the road and whatnot, even going as far to recreate when he tried to kick off a beach ball only to fall, basking in the waves of your laughter, even complaining to him by nighttime that your face hurts from laughing so much.

In return you feel you don’t have as exciting stories but he listens as if they’re the most wonderful things he has ever heard.

You deem them mundane and every time without a beat, he says only to you.

It comes down to, more like remembering, those scenes from when you were a kid.

He is awfully quiet that day, when you speak of seeing figures in black walking in tow, a kid or two that seemed to be your peers but how their estate in the eyes of some were off limits, and it was always at an odd time for you to be walking up there and talk with the kids.

A shame, the two of you could’ve met much earlier, yet he doesn’t voice it and you do not realize it.

Of all the things he has experienced recently, entering his room, to a bed unmade, finding you wrapped in the covers and sound asleep, would score high on Terzo’s list of things he wouldn’t expect– that is, if his brain could even muster up such a scene.

He doesn't need to, though, as it becomes real before his eyes and he makes way for the loveseat that night.

He doesn’t pry about it and all you say under your breath is that you felt lonely.

‘What about Wh-’ before he can ask, you open the covers partly to reveal that Mr. Whiskers is indeed with you, in his bed.

He just hopes the cat won’t switch his usual spot for his bed when he comes next time.

The nightly visits from you start to occur more, by the third time he knows it’ll become another constant, though not as frequent.

You do appear upset that he has to sleep on the couch, yet he waves his hand dismissively, that he doesn’t mind– he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or cross any unnamed boundaries. Which is a little outside the usual for him, he is known for being bold, for holding and kissing hands and doing much more when he can even smell from a kilometer away the slightest of interest the other party has in him.

The next time it repeats, he is startled by a sudden noise as he makes for the couch as always. Turning on his heel only to see you patting the spot next to you in his bed.

Sure, it is a spacious bed, more than enough space for the both of you, and Mr. Whiskers, yet he still feels tense about the whole situation.

What if he wraps an arm around you or something in his sleep and you wake up angry, that he jumped into conclusions, that this wasn’t what you wanted at all and that you’ll never visit again and file a restra–

“You think too much.” 

You draw him out of his pocket sized crisis with few words and a flock on his forehead. “Keep doing that and you’ll end up with wrinkles in no time.”

What else can he do but chuckle at that and sink into sleep, safe and sound?

Wine is a skillful loosener, as the two of you rediscover together.

On days you stick around for longer, he makes his offer– though you refuse it as much as you can.

Despite dropping by unannounced after a while, you haven't walked into any intimate moments. And against your initial claim, your phone does get bombarded, usually photos of Mr. Whiskers when Terzo catches a glimpse of him, or when he thinks he is being adorable.

The latter is worse, because Terzo always finds him adorable once he warms up to the cat. The way he acts through text makes you picture him lying on the floor, hands supporting his chin, legs behind him dangling in the air, watching the unknowing cat as he sleeps or does the most mundane cat thing anyone can think of.

Neither of you are aware just how fascinating mundane is to him.

You can sense his pout from meters away.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” you put down the stacked papers. “What is it?”

Crossing his arms, he turns away partially, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know what youre talking about.”

Getting closer to Terzo means many things, witnessing the absolute manchild that resides in him included.

Picking up your phone to turn the volume down, your eyes find his figure again– either he resembles Mr. Whiskers more than you gave them credit for or your time spent with him making you delusional. “Out with it already,” his form shrinks only further, “or no more visits from me or Mr. Whiskers.”

Now that , gets his attention.

Eyes focused somewhere near your face intentionally, he almost appears reluctant to say the words.

“How come you never listen to any of my songs?”

It takes you few seconds longer to register his words.

Before you can answer, he begins rambling, so rushed and in a whisper, all you can hear is few words in italian, which you’re sure are curses slipping his tongue and terms of endearment.

“I just… forgot?” you offer with a shrug.

Okay, maybe not the best response as this gets him to throw his arms into air, “ mio satana , you are unbelievable.” a finger pokes into your side, you haven't even realized he already crossed the distance between you both.

So he gets jealous when you listen to other musicians, huh , you save the information for future use.

As you begin laughing, he chuckles, muttering under his breath. “I guess, I’ll  have to bring a ritual to your feet.”

It goes unknown to you that Terzo semi-regularly orders cat food for Mr. Whiskers, not that the cat ever seemed to be hungry when he was there, but hey, cannot hurt to try. If the cat only decides to visit him, with you in cue, more often, now there is no harm in that.

Another thing unbeknownst to you, is that, despite the distance between their estate and your house, Terzo can spot your lights without much effort.

If he were to dramatize the entire thing between you both and more, he’d refer to it as a beacon of light. But he doesn’t need to, because there is nothing more to what it is between the two of you, even if unnamed, even when he cannot help wondering “ what if …”, wondering if he is misinterpreting things.

So when he doesn’t see the lights turn on by the night time one evening, he doesn’t care, maybe the power went out, maybe you just want to try something different for a change. He certainly doesn’t care in the morning when he sees a second figure come out of the door, or when you drop by later that evening, a throbbing headache and ‘ long day at work’ you just murmur as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You accept the wine when you're taking another stroll in the gardens.

With the weather beginning to cool down, you welcome its warmth to your very bones.

Booze loosens your tongue first, and soon your senses, your train of thought. Whether it’s a good thing or not that you’re not the only victim… you don't know.

“Was it worth it at least?” he muses as you’re seated on the same bench, glasses sat on the ground.

You twist your face, trying to recall, “Once I tuned his voice out, yeah I guess?” he snorts at your words, “Isn’t this the usual case?” 

“Nah,” you drag the word as you reach for your glass, “He could also suck in bed. So the entire night wasn’t a waste I suppose. Never going back to that place though, I’m picky for a reason.”

You say the words more to yourself as a mantra than anything, Terzo watching you with a giggle hanging on his lips. 

“Bad drinks as well?”

“It’d be charity to call them as such, ugh,” with a sigh, you drink down the remaining half of your wine, tipping the empty glass to his direction.

Taking your glass, he switches it with his and you take no time to bring it back to your lips.

“But this?” you raise the glass, “now that is a quality product.”

With another chuckle, he reaches for the bottle and fills the empty glass in his hand.

The topic of your recent and unfortunate endeavors morph into complaining about work, people in the streets, weird posts on the internet and whatnot.

“Okay, okay,” you try to speak inbetween laughter, “so what about weird preferences when it comes to sex?”

He just gives you a teasing smirk as you place your finger on his lips as a means to shush him “we already know weird shit and food combinations the other likes, consider this a slight change of topic.”

“I’d say you’re deflecting, but alright, I’ll buy.” he shrugs, throwing his head back to drink from the bottle– the glasses cast aside an hour or so ago.

“Any kink you can think of, I’m most likely into already, so just ask me yourself.”

You bring a finger to your chin, contemplating what to say for a moment, “Socks stay on or?..” you let your voice trail off, gazing at him from the side with a smile.

Bringing a hand over his heart and another against his forehead, he faces you fully and lets out a loud gasp. “Caro mio! You wound me. I might be the antipope but I am not a lunatic!”

He opens one eye to seize your reaction, and when your gazes meet, both of you burst into laughter.

“But the face paint stays on, no?” you gesture to your face once you stop clutching your stomach.

“Everyone has a preference, tesero.” he shrugs.

Considering his position and the closest people he can find to fuck, it does add up, you suppose.

“Now enough about me, what about you ?” He leans in to you, flashing his teeth. Not letting him get to him, you snatch the bottle from his hand. 

“What about me, indeed huh? Just your basic, vanilla bullshit.” you close your eyes as you gulp down the wine.

Your comment only ignites him further, with another chuckle, he scoots closer, “You? Vanilla? I’d beg to differ,” and again, with the poking to your sides, he pleads “Don’t keep your papa waiting now.” “Okay first of all–” 

You snap your head to him, only to be nose to nose, “ Not the ‘p’ word, we went over that ages ago, not calling you that.”

“Only because you’re being such a tease,” he sing-songs, his head thrown back.

 “You are such a child,” you mumble as you place the bottle between your legs, hands gripping its neck.

“Biting, I suppose.” You can hear him open an eye and look your way, “Nothing extreme as I said, but people aren’t exactly dying to be covered in red and purple, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he answers, “their loss.”

You can sense he wants to pry further but keeps himself, and hell , the wine is good, there is another bottle waiting by his foot, and compared to the amount of black mail-level footage of him you've got, this feels like nothing.

“Taking risks.” you say in a whisper, partially hoping he doesn’t hear.

“Now, this falls vague, bella.” he says. “Risks of conceiving, catching STDS–” he begins counting with a finger,

“ No ! I said risks , not being an idiot.” You cut in, a hand covering your face.

You know he is waiting with that smug smirk, “risks of getting caught, like, dunno , semi public spaces and the likes?” you ask more than speak, meeting his gaze as you finish speaking.

“So that’s where the biting comes,” he speaks in a knowing tone, “leaving telltale marks blooming everywhere?” he muses as his hand begins to move, finger grazing against your skin.

“Like this?” he asks, hand going up and drawing patterns on your thigh, slowly going up, his eyes gauging your expression. 

“...yeah” you say in a breath, letting his hand reach the inner side of your thigh. A finger flicks against the bottle, drawing out a trembling note, making your eyes flash though all your times here, you never saw anyone else in the gardens.

The bottle has long gone warm but his hand feels cold against your leg, you’re aware of his eyes locked on your face yet make no haste to draw yours away from the plants up ahead.

His hand begins to travel upwards, making way to fiddle with the hem, going under and his skin meeting yours.

Before he can do anything further however, you both jolt with the sudden noise coming from behind, between the windows.

“Cazzo!” he mutters and gets up, making way to enter his room through the windows.

While waiting for him, you go for the other bottle, pouring yourself some more wine, at least with a glass, you can keep count.

Pausing to listen around, you hear the commotion has died down.

Picking up the other glass and hoisting the empty bottle under your arm, you make way for the stained glass windows you’ve grown familiar with over the course of time.

Terzo doesn't seem to pay much mind to the interruption though, the conversation picks up from where it left, now talking in a more general sense.

“You give off vibes of someone who’d make a sex playlist,” you begin as he listens with a nod, “ and add your songs to it.”

“As I said gioia, everyone has their preferences.” he reaches to take the bottle from you, not expecting your arm to draw back, “yet I cannot help but be upset,” he sheds a nonexistent tear, “that you think my thrust game is so weak.”

Seeing as you freeze at his words, he takes a step to you, grabbing the bottle from your hand with a smile and places it down, not stepping back afterwards. “If you want a demonstration though, I am always happy to help.” 

As if your silence was anything to go by, now it is deafening, the warmth and flush of your skin; you’re unsure if the cause is alcohol or him .

“And I did promise a demonstration of my songs to you before, didn’t I?” he says as he takes another step your way.

“So you see, we got this fan favorite song, Mummy Dust,” he speaks while pretending to be interested in the ceiling, gesturing with a hand in the air, “but not because of the lyrics.” he remarks with a smug expression, redirecting his gaze to you as he takes another step, barely any space left separating the two of you.

You’re unsure what to say or do, when left alone in a room with a bunch of people wearing identical masks.

You think, Terzo must’ve pulled a rope here and there, or acted in secrecy considering his sudden drop of position in the band, to have gotten into this studio– and bringing you no less.

The people he referred to as Nameless Ghouls stare at you, and you back at them. You can imagine the confusion they must be going through.

Then the man of the hour reappears with a clap of hands, dressed up in an outfit resembling a suit, and his previous remark at Mr. Whiskers suddenly comes back to you, finally making sense.

A concert– or a ritual, as he put it, he promised and one he delivers.

A ghoul begins playing his guitar in sync with the drums, as two of them walk to stand at their both sides and with a sudden stomp of foot, they all play in, in a fashion you can describe as ‘ knocking the wind out of your lungs .’

Only when Terzo’s singing, and soon the instruments coming to a stop that you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time. And quickly find out you may as well die due to lack of oxygen by the time the day comes to an end if they only keep up this momentum.

One song after another, they captivate you gradually. Be it the way the ghouls play or the way Terzo moves as he sings, radiating with energy. Walking around and messing up with one another, bothering each other at times– it all creates the illusion of a found family.

Briefly moving his hand, the ghouls pick acoustic guitars once another song comes to an end.

After each song he tells its name and some information– or funny memories he finds important you know.

With a signal of his hand, the ghouls switch to acoustic guitars and Terzo begins humming: “a one, a two, three, and four.“ 

With a move of his hand, they all enter the song.

One hand in a fist, resting against his hip and the other in front of him, he sways his hips softly as he sings.

It doesn’t miss your attention how some of his moves arent as innocent or random as they seem– when he brings his other hand to join the stray one, hoisting them up in the air as if holding something, or how after he holds the microphone with one hand and violates the poor stand with his fingers. Hands thrown into the air and shaking in the air as a ta-da once in a while, he takes a step back to point at one of the ghouls’ playing.

The song comes to an end and you think you’ve done good so far– then he decides to announce that the song is called Jigolo Har Meggido and you burst into laughter, leaving the men in the room utterly confused.

It takes several minutes for you to gather yourself, wipe away the tears all the while ignoring Terzo hovering over you with concern, unsure whether to approach you or leave you be in your violent laughter.

“I’m sorry-” your words die in your throat as another wave of laughter takes over again, “it’s just-” hand clutching over your stomach, you do your best to look up, “you do re-”, meeting his face only makes you laugh again.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you a little. Taking the water bottle one of the ghouls have brought to you, in your frenzy you didn’t even realize him leaving, you take a few sips to calm your nerves.

“I know you’re flirty and all, but witnessing you calling yourself a manwhore caught me off guard.” 

Definitely not something worth laughing to that extent over, Terzo doesn’t say a word and instead flashes you a toothy grin.

“You’d be surprised to hear it was his brother who wrote this song.” you hear someone say, the same ghoul from before.

“Ah!” Terzo waves a hand dismissively in the air, “enough talk of that geezer. Now , what do you say to a grammy winning original?” 

The ghouls slowly begin as Terzo walks back, their eyes on him and his hands, watching every move and tilt, following his guidance. Compared to the other songs they’ve played so far, this one comes off much softer, gentler, making you wonder what will come next.

Raising both hands in the air as if in praise, the ghouls all stop and silence takes over, waiting, and with his signal, they enter the song, picking up stronger than where they left off.

The melody matches the lyrics somewhat, the impression of a thunder, it builds up and carries smoothly.

He begins singing what you assume to be the second verse, drawing closer to you at a steady pace. His voice becomes the only thing you hear as the instruments falter and die out, quietening one by one. The microphone now held in his left, his right hand reaches out to hold yours, bringing it up near his face as he keeps singing: “ Can't you see that you're lost without me?”

And with it, they all reenter the song with a bang, your hand still in his, Terzo kisses the back of it in between lyrics and steps back to his initial position.

Drumming his fingers in the air, swaying them at the direction of either of the ghouls, they all circle around the keyboard playing ghoul as the song shifts into an instrumental part.

Eyes never leaving theirs, especially not his, not when he makes sure to lock his with you, you watch the entire performance almost in a trance, mind going blank.

When the song ends, you can see his expectant looks on you, already beaming with whatever compliment he’s positive you’ll be giving him.

So you decide to pick the teasing route. 

“It was nice.” he stares at you, his face clearly showing he wasn’t waiting to hear that. “Nice?..”

Humming in affirmation, you nod your head. “Yeah, nice.” tilting your head to the side, you speak up, “ Say , this helps you get some?” 

The man stands there, blinking at you for what feels like eternity.

The ghouls in a similar stance, though you’re sure you’ve heard one of them snort, and another snicker.

The eternity ends with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face. “Yes, sorella , it helps me …get plenty actually.” he uses your phrase.

“Well,” he clicks his tongue as he places the microphone back to its place, “if it’s a …meretricious song you desire, how about I give you,” his pace of speaking slows down, as if holding his breath, waiting for imaginary drum rolls: “Mummy Dust!” He drags the words in a low grumble, shaking his hands in the air once again.

From how he starts swaying and moving his hips, you immediately recognize the song.

As Terzo begins singing, the sound of a door opening and clicking close reach your ears and when you twist halfway in your seat, you see a man with pencil stache dressed up in black, his hat partially resembling a bat, same painted eyes and upper lip like Terzo yet lacking the rest of the face paint.

The man stills in place when he sees you, only gets his feet to move again when you pat the vacant spot near you.

Whispering greetings back and forth, you immediately remember his name.

“Ah you’re the Cardinal!” Your voice comes out a tad more excited than expected. The man on the other hand seems confused as to how you know him already.

“How are your rats? Happy, I hope. I am so sorry, I never got the chance to apologize to you or to them because of Mr. Whiskers.” The words leave your lips in a breath, leaving the man dumbfounded, repeating your cat’s name in confusion and unaware, 

“ah, I-, my most sincere apologies, who?..”

“Mr. Whiskers, my cat, didn't Terzo t- oh.” Unfortunately the mention of a cat before you can stop makes his eyes go wide, and you try your best to assure him that your cat didnt even set foot into his room, somewhat calming the anxious man down.

The music on the other hand, as well as the singing, gets louder and a tad more aggressive. 

Probably unhappy with how your attention was led somewhere other than him. So needy and grumpy, spoiled like a cat.

“Uh, we can save our discussing for after the song?” Cardinal suggests, to which you nod. “I'd hate to impose on this- uh, special performance his excellency was displaying for you.” He says, coughing on his words at the way Terzo moves.

“Its alright Cardinal. I was given a demonstration of this song already, I am not missing out on anything.”

Again, you must’ve said something wrong, because instead of relaxing, the Cardinal’s face tenses up and goes bright red.

“ Oh !” You wince, “poor choice of words on my behalf. That's not what I meant.” You try to offer an explanation with a sheepish smile, but to no avail. 

At least Terzo looks quite pleased with the interaction, as clear from the smug expression taking over his face.

The previous incident– goes unaddressed between the two of you but the air between doesnt waver.

Still, it must have triggered some sort of change, you conclude, as Terzo’s texting habits only evolve into a different stage.

Sure, it went for quite a while that the initial purpose of exchanging numbers was abandoned yet he still possessed control, a sense of self restraint, when texting you.

Definitely the absolute opposite of whatever it is going on as of now.

Maybe you’ve spoiled him too much, your brain reaches another conclusion as the lips on your skin snap that thought in the middle, pulling you back into reality.

You still don’t visit him as regular as to say daily, or even biweekly– so you hold onto the benefit of doubt that he has absolutely no way of knowing youre busy trying to have a nice night, focused on pleasure and the feeling of euphoria–

Another vibrating sound against your nightstand cuts into the air, your sceeen lightning up right after.

You ignore it only so far until you find yourself scrolling and typing up a reply, the light coming from the screen reflecting against you and the man you’ve forgotten about already.

As you smile at his newest text, hearing that stupid whining of his voice and the pout, someone next to you clears his throat, snapping you back.

“Anything I should know about?” He only asks and in all honesty , you cannot blame the guy. You’d have reaches into equally ugly assumptions, were this to happen to you.

But it didnt, and it isn’t right now, so its only a little too late that you put yourself in his shoes.

“Nope.” You say, walking up to your bookshelf and placing the phone screen down, “just a friend.”

The guy hums, sounding skeptical but doesn't pry.

You give him the benefit of the doubt but few too many repeats and you know it's intentional.

You did spoil him too much it seems.

Another afternoon by his side, you're sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked under yourself, he is busy on the other side of the room, who knows what he is preparing this time.

“Wine?” he turns on his heel, holding a glass and the bottle’s neck tilted slightly already. 

“None for me, thank you.” 

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, a scheming expression takes over. “Ooh? Any plans for tonight?” He inquires. You don’t need to know that he is dreading the confirmation that'll leave your lips. 

“I guess,” you shrug, turning to look outside the window, “promised Steve we’d spend the night together.”

Heavy silence spreads from your words and takes over the room. 

The teasing remarks signature to his natural charm never comes and you turn your head to see if he even heard you in the first place… or left the room before you spoke… or somehow passed out in silence as you spoke.

Your worries ease upon seeing him standing there, still, not even a muscle moved from his last position, unreadable eyes staring at you.

Only when you tilt your head towards, asking ‘what’s wrong?’ and only then he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, coughs and tried to laugh it off with a ‘ have fun’ , pouring himself a glass.

Unbelievable.

Discreetly taking a sip from his wine to distract himself doesn't do much to ease him and the now unimpressed look you're giving him makes even the wine taste bitter on his tongue. 

“Wh-“ “you are unbelievable.”

Okay, you don't just seem pissed, disappointed?, something definitely negative; you sound like it too.

“For wishing my friend a fun night?” And with a guy he has never heard you mention before– the word friend stings to say. “I’m sure Steve is a good gu-“ “ Again,” you dont let him finish, “you are unbelievable, absolutely childish and overall a great idiot.”

Okay now you're just being mean. A scowl makes its way to his face before he can even notice, making you shake your head in disbelief like a mother scolding her kids with a smile.

“If youre done with the insults cara,” he says and raises his glass, appearing pissed and upset as he downs the glass.

“Terzo, you met Steve.” His head snaps up at your words. “Steve?“ you repeat in question, “Steve Whiskers?” ‘ ring any bells? ’ He can hear you say in following–

The faint smile of yours slowly evolve in a giggle as you watch the gears turn in his head and finally connect the two and two together.

“The cat?!” His voice comes out louder than he meant to, suddenly straightening up and wiping invisible dust off his clothes, he clears his throat. 

“Excuse me for my sudden input of volume.” You reply with a smile, “Send my best regards to Mr. Whiskers.”

You see the ghouls around few more times you're in the perimeter, as well as the scary woman from before.

Sitting in the gardens with Terzo again one warm afternoon and she passes in the distance, her eye catching sight of you no doubt.

Jumping in your stead, you rush to where she is. Terzo watches as you speak with more animatic gestures, Sister remaining stoic as always. You bring a hand up to scratch your head in unease, then holding out a box of sorts. As you are about to turn, he sees your body beam , most likely at something Sister has said as she walks away.

You pattle back to where he waits, trying to contain a big smile and pulling out few cookies from behind in surprise. Just as he does with anything else you offer, he devours the cookies, making sure to express his gratitude and worship before and after.

You settle back next to him, laughing at the way he acts as he ignores the crumbs on his thighs, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing.

Yet you never tell him what it was Sister Imperator has said to you that got you in high spirits; not then, not later.

When you wake up with the sunlight grazing your face from the wrong direction, your first instinct is to return to sleep.

Having falling asleep by Terzo's side a reasonable amount of times now, it feels just as comfortable as your room. Despite his chest not being as soft as your pillow, the comfort of his mattress easily beating yours makes up for the loss.

Just as a content smile makes its way to your lips and you, more than eager to return to sleep, the situation of now sinks in and you can feel the warmth drain from your entire body.

Sure, this is not the first time you've found yourself falling asleep here, even in his arms, limbs tangled up no less; but all those instances contain one huge difference from the predicament you find yourself in now and it is last night.

Maybe you should pretend to stay asleep until he is summoned for anything, but the chances of this are dangerously slim. The light coming from between the curtains doesn't burn into your eyes just yet so it must still be fairly early, maybe you can sneak out before he can return from the land of dreaming. But that'd would leave bigger problems for future you and frankly? future you has gotten sick of your 'dancing around with nothing acknowledged' bullshit.

You take a deep breath, and shut your eyes further– hey perhaps they'll glue themselves together from how tight your muscles are contracting and with your sudden admittance to the hospital and the emergencu of the entire situation, it'll all get forgo–

A sudden noise stops your entire thought process crashing. A trainwreck, yes that's what this is.

Sucking a sharp breathe in, you think 'now or never', suck it up once and face on with courage.

Creaking one eye open and meeting Terzo's eyes on yours, every single muscle in his face loosened and his expression what you can only describe as to be 'at peace', all your anxiety from bare seconds ago gets washed down the drain. 

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax, fully, and bask in whatever the future– and he, along with it, will offer you.

The papas (plus sister because she needs more love) - A new ghoul gets summoned but they seem more shy and afraid, how would they react?

Papas and Sister Imperator with a shy, freshly summoned ghoul

Primo (he/him)

He knows what to do, he's seen it once before, but a long time ago.

Sometimes Ghouls just are really shy at first, and scared. Of course they are, the Ministry is a whole different world to them.

You ran straight off and hid. It took Primo a few hours searching to find you hiding in a secluded spot in the garden.

Primo left you there to get used to things and went back to his garden shed. He brewed a very special tea, he wasn't too fond of the smell but that's because it wasn't meant to appeal to him.

He went back to the your hiding place and left a cup just in reach. He smiled as you reached a clawed hand out to take it.

The next day Primo left the cup of tea so it was just out of your reach. You slowly came out to take it and caught sight of Primo.

He smiled and gestured to say it was just him, you looked back at the tea and then to Primo before settling down on the soft summer grass.

"Let me show you around?" Primo says with a kind smile. "I promise you, it will all be okay. And if it ever gets too much you can always come back here. I won't tell a soul that this is your spot and I will bring you tea whenever you need it."

You smiled and swished your tail. With Primo's steadying influence you started to slowly come out of your shell and bond with the other Ghouls.

Secondo (he/him)

You blink open your eyes as you lie on the cold stone and see the most terrifying Papa. His stern gaze and piercing stare had you running for the nearest shadow.

Secondo lets out a huffing sound and orders everyone from the room.

He sits down next to you and to your suprise his expression has softened. "I know its a big change."

You just kind of nod, still very confused by the man.

"And there is a lot to get used to. But there are a lot of exciting things here too and more importantly nice people..." Secondo seems to stop himself saying the rest of the sentence, which would have probably been 'as annoying as they all are'.

You wait for him to carry on and then he says "I will introduce you to my most trusted Ghoul and you will not shy away. In return I can promise you that they will take care of you and look after you, you have nothing to fear. Also, no one will expect you to introduce yourself or talk to them until you are ready to do so."

You nod, still scared but Secondo's gaze is so steady you just trust him, he is Papa after all, the one who summoned you.

Thankfully you settle in well and once you are more relaxed Secondo lets you see his party animal side. Which surpirses you all over again. Who knew he could be like that, eh?

Terzo (he/they)

They really count on Omega in situations like these.

While Terzo has a sort of magnetism that pulls people to him, especially when he flirts like a kindergartener (informing someone about a hole in his shoe, for example), but he also recognizes that a big, strong ghoul might help a new, shy one open up.

And Omega is very inviting unless he's pissed off. Which he never is, if Terzo's in the room. If Terzo's around, Omega is happy. It's a simple equation, really.

And Omega is also very welcoming. You end up feeling safe with their presence pretty soon.

You also end up getting adopted. it's not up for discussion.

Enjoy your new dads, I guess.

Copia (he/him)

Copia has summoned plenty of ghouls by now. He's got experience with the shy ones, too.

Although his previous originally shy ghoul (Phantom) had relatives in the Ministry already, so that was a bit easier.

This time, he's on his own with it.

He just chills in the room, leaving snacks nearby as he just sits in the corner of his room, playing something on an ancient-looking gameboy.

He's just there, not invading your space. It's a bit like with a new puppy.

Eventually, you get closer, stealing his snacks and slowly trying to look at the screen of his console.

And after that, it all goes easy. Yolu eventually get more and more comfortable with him.

You get really involved in the game, too. Copia's not allowed to finish it, watching him play is your comfort source.

Not that he minds, he fucking sucks at that game.

Old Nihil (he/him)

He is just confused, really confused why as to why you are hiding all the time. Normally when freshly summoned, Ghouls have far too much energy and want to see everything.

"Seeeestor, why is the Ghoul broken?" He asks her. She tuts and explains you are not broken just shy.

So Nihil decides to try and help.

He sits near where he knows you hide in the shadows and tells you stories of his youth.

Sometimes these stories are long and rambling and you fall asleep.

Other times they are really interesting and excitng and you find yourself coming out of the shadows to listen.

Nihil grins at you and offers to introduce you to some people he thinks you'll like.

Young Nihil (he/him)

He doesn't really think anything of it, all the Ghouls are odd and different in their own way. Which he loves, all so unique.

He'll just sit with you and offer you a drink or something stronger.

At first you think he is just doing this to help you settle in, but then you realise he has started to rely on you as much as you on him.

It's nice to hang out with him, very laid back and you two can just be yourselves. There is never any pressure to talk or anything.

When you feel a little more confident Nihil offers to teach you the saxophone. He's learning too and thought it would be fun to learn together.

He produces some, err, interesting noises from the instrument at first but he quickly gets better. Partly due to your support, you are the only person he feels comfortable enough to make mistakes in front of.

He also invites you along to parties or his shows or anythin really, but never puts pressure on you to come along. If you do agree he gives you the biggest smile and puts an arm around you showing you all the cool things. He'll keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get overwhelmed.

Old Sister Imperator (she/her)

As intimidating as she can be, she's also a very caring, motherly woman.

She will inform you where you are, who she is and why you're there.

All while calling you "little one", as if you're a child.

And while there's always this slightly unnerving feeling of authority she has over you, you actually like her! She's nice!

She leaves you snacks, small plushies and fidget toys so you can have some nice things that will comfort you in this new situation you've gotten yourself into.

She leaves one of her ghoulettes with you for comfort. She doesn't mind waiting. Take your time.

Young Sister Imperator (she/her)

A lot more intimidating and a lot less motherly than she is later in life, Sister Imperator wasn't the most patient in her youth.

She summoned a ghoul because she needed one now, not later.

Still, she's not cruel, she's not gonna just... abandon you. She can summon another ghoul for the matter at hand and then just... find some use for you.

She checks up on you regularly, just sitting in the room for a bit. it's almost like a break for her, honestly.

Over time, as you both become more and more comfortable with each other, she starts viewing you like a little pet.

She likes playing with your hair and tail. She's always incredibly gentle with you, too.

Perhaps she's already found your function. A companion. A little pet.

Doesn't sound so bad, does it?

~

Papas I, II and Papa Nihil written by Nyx.

Papas III, IV and Sister Imperator written by Nosferatu.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley who's just, so fucking happy to hear you complain.

like the tap is dripping? yes ma'am he'll fix that straight away, because a tap that drips long enough to annoy you means he's got a home.

the grocery store has changed the layout? that means you've been there long enough to notice.

there's construction for an ugly building down the street? you're clearly planning to stay.

he left the toilet seat up? he'll kiss your face all over until you giggle, promising he won't do it again, he might, just to hear you complain about it.

he's just so giddy when you complain about mundane things, he's so happy you don't have to worry about blood and war and death, you get to live in peace. even if that peace is disrupted by a stupid toilet seat.

You're in bed with Simon, who's on leave after some long, exhausting mission. It's your day off, and you've finally gotten home after running errands. You barely get the groceries into the fridge before Simon's dragging you to the bedroom, insisting it's time for a nap.

Both of you are asleep in record time, snuggled up together.

It's sometime later, that you're somewhere between awake and asleep, aware that there's no longer sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. You're ready to drift off back to sleep, and then something hard hits you in the mouth.

You've just barely registered that Simon elbowed you in the face, when he's pulling you closer, his hands cupping your cheeks.

"I'm sorry. 'm sorry. 'm sorry," he rushes out.

"You hit me," you whine in response.

"I know, love. 'm so sorry."

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, your head tucked underneath his. It's not like you were really upset to begin with, but it's hard to even pretend to be, with the way he's holding you. And you happily let yourself drift back to sleep.

Husband Ghost who is obsessed with his wife. He refuses to tell her no, whatever his wife wants, she gets. Anything she even mentions wanting ends up in their shared home. She mentions a beautiful cookware set, she finds it in the cabinets later that week. She complains that her nails are grown out, later her nail tech calls and says that Ghost has paid for a years worth of nail appointments (with tip). Anything to make his wife smile

When Ghost is home his wife doesn't have to lift a finger. He loves the idea of a "traditional marriage" but he's actually a traditional man. He comes home and and does any repairs you need on the house. He's going to buy groceries, doing car maintenance, landscaping the lawn, doing the laundry. Anything his little wifey needs.

Any hobbies she has are always encouraged and paid for by Ghost. Constantly sending packages full of cooking supplies, yarn, stationary, and paints to the house while he's gone. He always wears the things she makes for him. They are bundled in blankets she knitted while eating brownies she baked. All while you are going through the scrapbook you had made while he was on deployment.

He refuses to argue with his wife. A firm believer in "happy wife, happy life". Anything his wifey doesn't like or want to do doesn't happen. She doesn't like his tie, he's changing. She doesn't feel like going out, he's helping her out of her dress and making them hot cocoa. Nothing she can do can upset him. He's so in love with her that anything she does is perfect to him.