#train helped me scribble the last one lol

[vrieseasees]

My accumulated Josephs

[da-rulah]

Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: At the request of Papa Emeritus III, you return to your duties around the Ministry, but when he reminds you of your absence from confessional in the past month, he asks you to return to where it all started...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12k (lol wtf sorry guys this one ran away from me...)

Warnings: Pillow Humping, cunnilingus, panty-sniffing kink (once again, the glove returns...), honestly Copia just gets more pathetic in this part, vaginal fingering, premature ejaculation, cum eating, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk (a lot of it...), lots of feelings, idiots to lovers

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Guys... thank you all SO MUCH. The love for this fic has been bigger than I ever thought, and genuinely my heart is so full whenever I get a comment, a reblog, a message about it. I hope this is worth the wait, I know it's literally double the length of the other chapters but I really wanted you to enjoy and immerse yourself - there needed to be a decent enough pay-off after all the pining and angst 😂 Special thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for the beta reading and encouragement, and to @adinferix for their help with the Italian translation!

Copia had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t think of you today. Last night had been the last time. No, really.... He swore it. The moment he decided? When he’d woken up, face down in his pillows – after a night of self-indulgence that included another long-since dirtied and discarded pillow... - and realised that there was something stuck to his face.  

Your glove.     It had taken at least 25 minutes for the red imprint of that floral pattern to fade away from the pale skin across his cheek, and he’d been mortified - especially when brushing his teeth, having to stare at himself in the mirror with that pattern taunting him. He may as well have written “PERVERT” in sharpie across his cheek instead, for all the shame it brought him. 

That pattern was the reason for the Cardinal’s tardiness to his seminar that day, the man scurrying down the halls and checking his reflection in any and every passing surface possible to be sure that there was no longer an intrusive red flower burned into his pale skin.  

When he reached his classroom, everyone had taken to their seats already, some chattering away with each other as they waited, others impatiently tapping their feet or pencils with each passing second. Copia slunk into the classroom, muttering apologies with his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the death glares of the siblings who took their studies just a touch too seriously.  

Without further ado, the Cardinal began to make some notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked against the board, some of the siblings in the room whining incredulously at the sound and the chatter ceasing as if he’d done it deliberately to shush them.  

“Okie dokie, we will look today to focus on Latin pronunciation, and-” the Cardinal froze as he turned back to the class, eyes settling on a figure in the back corner.  

He must have been dreaming...   

There you sat, in your most conservative habit possible – purposefully changing after your meeting with Terzo that morning, your guilt for derailing the Cardinal in the confessional booth forcing you out of your impressive ensemble meant to manipulate Papa. 

Coming to Copia’s seminar was not a choice; you just desperately didn’t want Papa to bring Sister Imperator into this or get yourself in any more trouble. Terzo had spared you a punishment and you weren’t to take this for granted. So, you’d made sure you arrived with a group of other siblings, pushing through into the seminar room and plonking yourself in the very back corner in the hope he wouldn’t see you. 

But of course, he saw you. As if his body was magnetically drawn towards you, you were the first he laid his eyes on.  

You avoided his gaze, scribbling something down on the paper in front of you to look busy. You hadn’t missed his cut off sentence as his eyes settled on you, nor the lingering silence as you scribbled.  

‘Say something, Cardinal... Please say something. I can’t bear this...’ you thought, the seconds ticking by.  

“Mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I lost my train of thought for a moment. Pronunciation, sì, that’s where we were. Okay...” he shook his head, returning his attention to the class. He couldn’t focus on you now, couldn’t jeopardise himself that way. One wrong move, and you may disappear for another four weeks, or worse, and Satanas, he’d never forgive himself. That was not the kind of hell he wished to endure.  

Throughout the seminar, he would steal quick glances in your direction, as if making sure you were indeed still there, that you were real. Trying to find you before now had been like trying to catch smoke... downright impossible. His guilt gnawed at him like an insect burrowing into his skin, shame creeping over him each time he saw you staring down at your page.  

You didn’t want to be here, that much was clear to him. He’d made you uncomfortable, avoiding him... It stung him more than it should. 

“I... I think we’re done for today, classe (class) . Good job, molto bene (very good),” he fussed over the book on his desk as the class rose from their seats, gathering their things and heading for the door. In a moment of what he would describe as idiocy, he called out, “Uh, Sorella ______? Could I just...”  

But you were gone.   

Copia felt like a moron, embarrassed and pining over you as he watched you leave so quickly, quite obviously running from him. All he wanted to do was to apologise, to make you feel like you didn’t have to hide from him anymore. But you were that repulsed by him that you fled at the first chance you could.  

He huffed, dropping into his chair at his desk as the room emptied. He thought it over for a moment – you didn’t want to be in his class, and yet you came anyway. Why?  

Terzo... He had noticed your absence, questioned the Cardinal over it... Perhaps he’d told you to return to your duties, punished you...   

And that was all his fault. He’d upset you so much you’d avoided your duties, hidden yourself away. You were so repulsed by him that you couldn’t even look at him anymore. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…  

The Sorella who used to smile at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.   

The Sorella who never missed a seminar he was hosting.   

The Sorella who only ever confessed on a Thursday, during his duty.   

The Sorella who kept stealing glances at him as his brothers performed Black Mass.  

Not anymore.  

How silly of him to think there was ever any chance you might not hate him. How silly of him to think you might actually be attracted to him, that you could be at all interested in the blithering idiot Cardinale who still reads Beano comics and relaxes with a Juicebox and video games at the end of the working week.  

Copia was always brushed to the side, never good enough for a woman as wonderful as you, as beautiful as you.  

How daft he felt, and how sick he felt knowing how he had defiled your trust – and continued to do so every. fucking. night. Behind your back, in the shame of his private quarters. 

Perverted old Cardinale Copia...  

Those moans, oh how he could write a symphony with those moans. They sounded so visceral and somehow so melodic rolling from your tongue as his rolled against your heat. And Sathanas, the taste... he devoured that sweetness like it was his last meal on Death Row. Your hands clutching his hair scraped their nails against his scalp and he growled into your mound with a deep vibration that drew more sweet, sweet moans from your lips.   

With two gloved fingers, he breached your walls and with expert precision, he found the spot only you had found yourself – no previous lovers ever able to satiate you like he could. You were his.   

His his his.  

Even through the leather, he could feel your warmth on his fingers, hear the hungry slurps of your pussy drawing him back in over and over with every pump of his fingers inside you.   

“Cardinal... Cardinal....” you chanted like a mantra, eyes screwed shut and breath laboured as he drew you closer and closer to an end, more of your juices seeping out and dripping onto his eagerly lapping tongue, until...  

Until...  

Sweat beaded on Copia’s forehead as his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he lay in bed, his skin hot to the touch in the dark around him. His head snapped to the side, seeing the glowing red of his digital alarm clock reading 3:09am.  

He rubbed at his paintless eyes, groaning into the dark at the sticky feeling all over his body, the sweat now cooling in the night air and chilling him.  

Just a fucking dream.   

He could still taste you, still feel you, still hear you... How could he stop this? How would he ever be able to move on from this fucking chokehold you had on him? Does time heal all wounds?     Copia sure hoped so.  

In the dark, he felt the familiar need in his groin – a stiffness he wouldn’t be able to shake so easily. He didn’t want to, not again. Already he felt like a total degenerate, jacking off to the smell of your used glove a nightly occurrence. But now he was dreaming of you?  

With reluctance, he shifted the sheets and let his naked form hit the cold air around him, thick cock standing to attention. He threw an arm over his eyes, his other reaching down until he could lazily stroke the shaft of his shame a few times.  

Here we go again, he thought to himself in disgust.  

But disgust wasn’t enough to quell the rising lust he felt, and his hand began to pump his length with vigour as he recounted the details of the dream that woke him.  

He whimpered into the night, the heavy arm across his eyes shielding himself from his own depravity only getting heavier. His hips started to roll against the mattress, meeting his fist over and over. He couldn’t take this, he wanted so badly to bury himself, to grind down, to feel pressure...   

He sat upright, reaching behind him for one of the silk pillows he lay on before. He got up onto his knees, folding the pillow in two to create a crease and pushed it into his mattress, lining his hips up with it.   

And like the dirty old cardinal he was, he pushed his cock into the crease, groaning into a tight fist as he did.  

He leaned his weight over onto the hand pinning the pillow down and began to roll his hips into the softness, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as images of you flashed in his mind. That dream, it had felt so... so real? As if he could taste you still, smell you still... 

And he could, of course, once his hand had snaked under the remaining pillows to retrieve that damned glove he was far too lazy to hide properly these days. He humped the pillow he buried his cock into like a horny teenager, holding that glove against his nose and mouth as he got faster and faster, inhaling.  

“Ohhh, cazzo... (fuck),” he groaned, picturing you beneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of you. How good you’d feel beneath him, how slick, and wet, and warm you’d be for him. The noises from the confessional booth still haunted him, ricocheting off the inside of his skull as he buried himself over and over.   

“Sorella... Hmmm,” he hummed, “______, merda (shit).” His hips stuttered, the silk dampened with precum giving just enough friction... He wished it was you so badly, your pussy enveloping him. He craved it, like he couldn’t bear to go on without having you, even if it were just once.  

He bit his lip as he growled, hunching over the pillow like an animal and spilling his cum into the crease. His hips slowed, lazily rocking back and forth as he milked the rest of his spend until he could take it not more, letting go of the silk and falling face first into the rest of his bedding, uncaring of the mess beneath him. 

Integrating yourself back into the Ministry life hadn’t been nearly as hard as you had thought, managing to avoid the Cardinal everywhere other than that damn seminar. You’d heard him call out to you as you were leaving, but it only made your feet carry you faster past your Siblings and out into the hall to escape. You knew it was cowardly, but you weren’t ready to have to explain yourself to him, to see the disappointment in his face or to chastise you for what you’d coerced him into doing.  

You knew today you could evade him, his schedule keeping him busy all day and out of your current hiding place; the library.  

You adored this library... The corridors were like a maze, easy enough to get lost in your pursuit of knowledge. In dark nooks, high back leather chairs to read in sat in dim lamplight. Artistic renditions of Satanic teachings littered the ceilings as they might in a Catholic church – except, it was Lucifer who danced through each scene instead of Jesus. Dark wooded desks for studying or translating lined up in the middle of the lobby, two grand staircases winding up the walls opposite each other to the second floor. In between the staircases, was the most beautiful part of all... 

On the floor sat a reversed Pentagram, carved into stone with pictures of Lucifer and his most feared animals painted into the ramp where the staircases met – goats, cats, owls, bats... the misunderstood creatures tied to him. Carved into the outer edge of the pentagram sat purple stained Atropa belladonna flowers and vines, and atop the raised pentagram sat a marble statue of a white snake winding around a black pedestal. In the mouth of the snake, stuck between the fangs, was the ripest red apple – a symbol of Lucifer’s temptation, his greatest triumph in the Garden of Eden.  

That statue always seemed to steal your breath away, as it did anyone who gazed upon it. The care and attention to detail, the way it always shined in the faux candlelight – real was too dangerous around the ancient texts and antique furniture throughout the library – it was just so spectacular.  

It was a beautiful place to spend your day, but it served a purpose today. You chose one of the leather high back chairs just off from the lobby to relax and catch up on some reading you’d neglected in your time spent hiding.   

As you neared the end of the book you were studying – an old Catholic tome you struggled to translate from the dusty pages – you decided to find the book that you knew countered the Catholic teachings, so you could cross reference and perhaps understand the old book better.  

You stood, taking the Catholic tome with you into the rows of tall bookshelves in search of the Satanic counterpart. It had to be up on the fourth shelf, just out of reach. Sighing dramatically in your own laziness, you reached for the running ladder at the end of the shelves, dragging it along its tracks to the spot you had been standing. You rested the book in your arms on a lower shelf, and starting to climb the rungs of the ladder.  

In your haste, the long skirt of your chosen conservative habit – the ones you had taken to wearing every day now that you were to be out and about around the Cardinal again – became trapped under your foot and naturally, you slipped from a few feet off the ground, losing your grip and balance.  

Two unassumingly strong arms stopped you before you could hit the marble flooring, wrapping around your waist and tugging you to a body behind you to stop you meeting a rather bruising conclusion.     “Careful, Sorella...” the chest you were pressed against vibrated with a deep chuckle. “Pretty girls should not be covered in accidental bruises, eh?”  

You stumbled to your feet, straightening out your habit and turning to see Terzo smirking at you, his ghostly eye somehow even more bewitching in the dim lamplight.     “Grazie (thank you), Papa... I slipped on...” 

“Sì, your habit,” his eyes raked over your form, confusion furrowing on his brow as he remembered the other morning in his office – you'd been wearing something much more to his liking. “I must say, I preferred the shorter one, mia cara . With the red stitching...” he winked.  

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you averted your eyes from his.  

“Did you only wear that for me, tesoro? ” he winked, taking a step towards you, “Thought it would get you out of trouble, eh?” His teasing flustered you, and you couldn’t string a full sentence together as your heart pounded in your ears, breathing irregular to compensate for the rush of oxygen to your brain. He laughed as you stuttered a denial. 

“Speaking of trouble, have you been attending your duties, sorella? Did you go to Copia’s seminar?” he stepped back again out of your personal space, allowing you to breathe normally once again. 

“Sì, Papa.” 

“And was he... happy to see you?” he asked, arching a brow. His tone confused you, like he expected a specific reaction. But Terzo was fishing... he suspected the Cardinal had a crush and was doing anything he could to put you in Copia’s way. He was making you dance around him, like the carrot on a string to tempt the donkey.... 

“Uh... I don’t know,” you thought back to the way his face fell when his eyes caught yours, the way his breath caught in his throat and the look of fear as his skin had paled to a grey colour. “Perhaps he was surprised.” 

Terzo’s face screwed up in confused annoyance. He’d expected better from the Cardinal, for him to be more welcoming when he so clearly had missed you around the Ministry. He’d asked Terzo to keep an eye out for you, to tell him immediately if he saw you, after all.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re back to your schedule, mia cara. But you know,” Terzo had a plan... He enjoyed meddling in the Cardinal’s affairs, and well, anyone’s ... “I must insist you attend confessional before today is out.” 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You fought to keep your face neutral, quelling every natural urge to look absolutely petrified of the thought. Because of course he would want you to attend confessional today.  

On a fucking Thursday.  

“It’s been a while, no? If you were gone for four weeks, you must be overdue?” he quizzed.  

“W-well, yes...”   

“We can’t have you falling behind, mia cara. I’m sure you have something to confess to the Dark Lord,” he turned on his expensive Cuban heels, “I must go, I have some uh... business to attend concerning a rather beautiful Librarian,” he began sauntering off into the bookshelves, “By tonight, per favore, sorella !” he called out behind him. 

Just as before, your shoes echoed on the Ministry floors as you walked to the Chapel. Except tonight, they felt louder and louder, ringing in your ears with each step. Your legs carried you on autopilot, unable to disobey a Papa’s direct instruction.  

Why did he choose tonight of all nights? It felt like returning to the scene of a crime... You didn’t know what you were going to say, what you could possibly confess to the Cardinal this evening that you’d done in the last few weeks when quite obviously you hadn’t done anything at all... 

The Chapel was steeped in dim candlelight, completely void of any signs of life. You stood in the doorway for a moment, staring like a deer caught in headlights at the booth at the other end of the room. A shiver ran over your spine, a nasty reminder that you were supposed to move, to go and sit in that infernal wooden box next to the source of your embarrassment, your fear... your lust.  

Because of course, despite your efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, your brain liked to remind you at night that he most certainly did. Except now, the grunts and groans of his pleasure were accurate, burned into your memory and used against you as a weapon as you slept.  

With a push, you entered the Chapel, somehow speed-walking to sit inside the booth beside the Cardinal who jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut a little too hard. You wasted no time.  

“Bless me, Cardinal, I have sinned,” you deadpanned.  

Beside you, the Cardinal sat bolt upright, eyes staring into his peripheral vision, afraid to make a move and look directly at the shadow beside him. If he made any sudden movements, perhaps you’d disappear in a puff of smoke... 

He cleared his throat quietly.     “Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?” He stuck to his duty, as you stuck to yours. He wasn’t about to risk trying to have any other kind of conversation with you right now. Perhaps he could try after...  

But what the fuck would he even say to you? He wanted so desperately to apologise, but he couldn’t completely clear his conscience without admitting to everything that’s happened since the last time you sat beside each other in this damned booth. And there was no way he could do that, not without the promise that the ground would open up beneath his feet and plunge him into the deepest pit of hell the second he finished confessing. 

Beside him, you waited a moment, trying to think of something to confess to, but your mind was screaming the same thing at you.     Lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. LUST.  

“Sloth, Cardinal,” you huffed, “I’ve neglected my duties.” Coward, you scolded yourself. Not that it was a lie, of course. But... you couldn’t just own up to the worst of your sins. 

Copia’s shoulders relaxed next to him, a sigh leaving his lips. Part of him was terrified you might say lust again – he wasn’t sure he could take that torture. 

“Do you wish to elaborate, sorella? Is there a reason for your sloth?” he asked, as if he was trying to hurt himself further. He knew it was him – he was the reason. You were avoiding him, disgusted by him.  

“I did something terrible, and... I’ve been hiding,” you admitted. The cardinal was confused... What could you, his sweet sorella, have possibly done that was so terrible? Lucifer, you didn’t mean him? Were you that horrified by him?   

“Sorella, there’s no need to hide, you... uh...” he couldn’t think straight, his heartbeat rising in his chest as he panicked. He didn’t know what to say... Almost as if he were to absolve you of your sins but that wasn’t what confessional was for? But he wanted so badly to comfort you, to tell you it was okay, that he was so sorry... So very sorry for putting you in that position all those weeks ago.  

And on the other side of the lattice, there you sat, feeling sorry for ever entering the booth that night, for pushing him into such a situation with a member of his congregation, for defiling his position as Cardinal.  

Both two different sides of exactly the same coin. 

“I... I can’t do this, Cardinal. I’m sorry...” you rushed, pushing your way out of the booth and running through the Chapel. Copia sat for a moment, frozen in shock and disappointment when his body reacted before his mind could.   

He got up, and chased you. Out through the Chapel, down the hall where the clacking of your shoes was still echoing off the marble. But he kept running, desperately trying to find you without tripping on his cassock. He had to find you. He couldn’t let you stay like this, so angry and disgusted at him. He needed to apologise, even if that meant admitting to all the rest...    

“Sorella, wait!” he called, the halls empty for the time of evening it was. He was grateful, chasing a mere shadow through the halls like a predator on the hunt for his prey. Except that’s the last thing he wanted you to feel; hunted.  

You found it too difficult to run in your habit, far too long for you. You cursed as you stumbled, somehow managing to stay on your feet in the pursuit of your dorm but the Cardinal was faster than he looked, and before you knew what had happened you felt a grip on your arm dragging you into a nearby door, letting go as soon as you’d been almost flung into the room.   

The door slammed, and the Cardinal stood against it, breathless and looking distraught.  

“Cardinal, don’t make me s-” you wanted to apologise, to beg to spare you the shame of saying aloud what you’d been thinking since that first confessional... but he interrupted you.   “Sorella, mi dispiace if I frightened you, but I owe you an ap-” 

“Cardinal please, I can’t-”    “Mia cara, just listen...” he begged, but neither of you could get a word in edgeways.  

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you yelled your sorrows at him.     “What? What are you-” his confusion painted his features, hardened lines forming in his face.  

“Y-you’ve always been so good to me, and I don’t want to make you feel awkward or put you through that ever again. I should never have made you do that, I’m so ashamed of myself,” you rabbited on, wailing at him with four weeks of pent-up embarrassment spewing out your mouth. But the Cardinal stared at you as the cogs in his brain turned, realising what you were actually apologising for.  

“Are you sorry for your dream, mia cara?” he asked you softly, taking a step to stand of his own accord instead of leaning his back against the closed door.  

“Yes!” you yelled, “That and... well... what happened. It was too far, I put you in such an uncomfortable position and that’s not fair of me at all. Cardinal please forgive me, I’m trying not to have these thoughts-”     “You’re still having them?” his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting as he processed your rantings. 

“Well, um... I... yes, but I’m working on it, I’m trying to busy myself with other things and I thought that maybe if I hid for a while that I could stop it, not that I could look you in the eyes again anyway after what I did, and...” 

Copia had heard enough. He strode towards you through the rows of desks and chairs surrounding him, pressing the palm of his glove to your mouth to quiet you and in turn, pushing you to lean back against the solid oak desk behind you.     “Sorella, please...” 

That moment, singularly, was the beginning of your downfall. When you felt the leather of his glove press against your lips, his body pressing against yours as you stumbled back, and you whined against his hand...  

Copia’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that at all. His movements were not meant to be at all provocative in nature; he had simply panicked, needing you to hush so he could speak, to apologise and not knowing how else to do so. But now... Well, he could see the crimson colour of your cheeks under his glove, matched with the look of shock on your own face. That noise; it was completely involuntary. But it came from a place of lust...    Of submission. 

A beat of silence passed between you, the air appearing to be sucked out of the room completely, suffocating you both where you stood. Your screamed at yourself inside your head, cursing how pathetically easily you had succumbed to the slightest touch and showed your hand before any kind of game had truly even begun.  

“You must learn when to quiet this pretty mouth of yours and listen...” The cardinal tested his limits, watching your response. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell deeply and slowly beneath him, and how your eyes softened a little as they scanned his face and found no real anger there, only the hint of a smirk. “Now, give me a nod or a shake of your head, eh? I want to ask you a few things. Nod if you understand.”  

You nodded, his hand still pressed firmly to your mouth.  

“Are you still having these dreams, Sorella?” You shut your eyes now, embarrassed, and slowly nodded your head.     “And are you still... enjoying these dreams?” he spoke slowly, deliberately. You nodded again, hesitant. 

“And have you acted on these dreams since, tesoro?” You took a few deep breaths before answering again; a slow, ashamed, but deliberate nod.  

Copia sucked a lungful of oxygen in through his teeth, watching your eyes on him as he did. His head swam in a dizzying array of images; thoughts of the dream you had told him about in such detail, thoughts of you alone at night thinking of him, touching yourself for him. As he exhaled, he looked away from you, breaking the eye contact you held in fear and finally looking around the room.  

The seminar room...  

… from your dream.  

A wicked smirk spread across the Cardinal’s face, and as you followed his gaze around the room, you realised why. You dare not move, holding your breath as he turned back to you, his beautifully monochrome eyes hooded and boring down into yours. 

“It’s here, no?” he asked. You didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. “This is where your fantasia (fantasy) takes place, eh? Answer me, tesoro. ..”  

You nodded against his hand again, shame flooding your cheeks with warmth. The stirring in your abdomen was growing the longer he stood pressing you into the desk behind you. It was maddening.  

“I press you against this desk in that dream, hm?” he knocked on the wood you leaned on with his free hand, in turn pressing just a little tighter against you. You could feel his body heat through his cassock, and it served to focus your own heat between your legs... “Will you remind me, mia cara , what exactly did I do here?” 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth to let you answer him with words – except, you could find none. You stuttered and fumbled as you stared into his eyes, his face so close to yours you could smell his cologne stronger than you ever had. It was utterly intoxicating, a sweet yet smoky aroma. 

“Come, now, dolcezza ... Don’t hold out on me now, hm?” The back of his fingers met your cheek, lightly grazing the blush soothingly. “What. Did. I. do?”  

There was no escaping this, not that you wanted to. You were so close, your dream practically coming true before you. You may not be able to forgive yourself for pushing your Cardinal over the lines of professionalism all those weeks ago, but here he was, quite obviously flirting with you, enticing you.  

Tempting you.  

And you would never forgive yourself for fumbling this, for running and hiding once again. And that guilt would be worse, embedded with more shame and embarrassment than ever before. 

“You... were kissing me...” you whispered. The Cardinal smiled – not the dirty little smirk from before, more of a satisfactory smile, sweeter.  

“Tesoro, I’ll only ask you once – and whatever the answer, I will respect it,” he began, some nerves starting to bubble up in his chest. He feared rejection more than anything, having been rejected his entire life. Could he take it if you rejected him too? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try...  “Would you like me to kiss you?” 

Your chest bloomed with warmth, eyes flickering down to his half-painted lips and back to his eyes, somehow looking more puppy-dog like as the seconds ticked by. You realised then, he was scared of you saying no. Scared...   

But you could never deny your Cardinal.  

Words had failed you, that much was clear. And so, you opted for almost involuntary action, slowly leaning forwards against him until your lips barely grazed his. Copia could have sworn he felt his lips tingle where they’d brushed with yours; such a fleeting touch, unsure of yourself but it was all the answer he needed.  

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that took your breath away... His lips melded into yours with such a longing, both of you easily losing yourself in the moment. Just as in your dream, you sank into him, your hands gripping onto his cassock as he deepened the kiss. His arms had snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush against him as he hummed into your mouth. 

Just as you imagined every night, one of his hands came to remove your veil, letting your hair fall freely while he worked his way past your lips with his tongue, gently mixing with your own as you fell further into him. You whined at the sensation, feeling his hands regroup and tighten on your waist as you did.  

He pulled away from you breathless, the black paint of his top lip smudged slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for any sign you wanted to back out, but finding nothing.  

“You look so beautiful without your veil, dolcezza...” he whispered before he could stop himself. Mentally, he scolded himself for being such a lovesick idiota, but the way you looked into his eyes and smiled was everything he had hoped for. He twirled a strand of your hair in his fingers, watching it as he curled it around the leather. “I had no idea you had all this under there, eh?” he chuckled, “ bellissima (beautiful).”  

He dropped the strand and instead came to hold your chin between this thumb and finger.  

“Now tell me, what happens next in that dream of yours again?” Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to punch straight through your ribs to get to him. This was happening. This wasn’t you pushing him into anything, you weren’t undermining his authority. He wanted this. He wanted you.   

“Your hands... they slide up my habit...” you muttered, shy.  

“Like this?” he narrated, crouching momentarily to hook his hand under your habit, trailing slowly up your leg until the skirt hung lopsided around your upper thigh. You nodded at him, watching as his eyes never left yours. “And do I touch you here, mia cara? ” His palm cupped your mound over your panties, and he could feel the searing heat emanating from your core through the leather of his glove.  

The noise you made was involuntary – a soft gasp that made his already half-hard length twitch with interest beneath the heavy wool of his clothes. He didn’t wait for you to answer him, his question more of a rhetorical tease. Instead, he slid his hand against you, pressing against your entrance while his palm sat heavy against your clitoris.  

“Cardinal...” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to a perfectly round ‘O’.  

He continued to tease for a moment, enjoying the soft mewls and sharp breaths you took each time he would alternate the pressure between his palm and his fingers. But he only had so much control, after weeks of pining, of dreaming of you, fucking his damn pillows to the memory and the scent of you. 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them hit the floor around your feet. Without wasting a second or daring to look away from the blissful expression on your face, he dipped his fingers between your folds, dragging them painfully slowly through the mess you had made for him. The choked moan you let out at the sensation of that damned glove sliding through rang out against the stone walls of the seminar room.  

Copia collected some of your mess on his glove, lifting his hand into the dim candlelight of the room to see the way it shined. It reminded him of the moment he’d found your sodden glove in the booth, how it left the darker wet marks where he’d held it. Except this time, he was blessed enough to have it right from the source.  

“ Splendido... (splendid)” he mumbled, before you opened your eyes to watch him bring his shimmering glove to his lips, tasting what he’d taken. The way he groaned at the sweetness had you clenching around nothing, fisting the cassock you still had such a tight grip on. “I can’t deny myself, dolcezza ... Not anymore.” 

Before you had time to linger on his words – not anymore... - he dropped to his knees in front of you, as if ready to worship. He adjusted the skirt of your habit for you to hold around your hips, still covering your modesty for now. Both his hands slid up your thighs, parting them as he slotted in-between, finally coming to uncover you for him. 

The way you glistened for him made his concealed erection throb, and as much as he wanted to dive in and devour you whole, he didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long to be sloppy here. Instead, he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, enjoying the way they trembled in anticipation. Slowly, he made his way up, his breath tickling and warming the trail of wet he’d left with his tongue.  

Finally, his lips pressed against your mound. As painful as it was to have him tease, to gently kiss you where you so desperately needed more, you were grateful for any contact at all after the weeks of anguish believing he held no feelings other than disappointment and disgust for you.  

When the Cardinal at your feet finally allowed his tongue to slip between your folds, you couldn’t help the hand that flew to knock his biretta off his head, grasping at the peppered grey hair that grew beneath it. He groaned against you; at your taste, at your heat, at your grip. It was all so wonderfully intoxicating.  

As he let himself bury his tongue in you, he lifted one of your thighs over his shoulder for better access for him, and stability for you. He wrapped his arm around that thigh, gripping on for dear life as if you’d disappear on him again. But you were going nowhere anytime soon... 

As he mouthed at your clit, he couldn’t help the grunts and groans that rumbled like thunder against you, vibrating through you. You threw your head back in pleasure, uncaring of how loud your moans and whimpers were.  

When Copia started to slide his middle finger through your folds below his tongue, you almost collapsed back onto the desk. He pressed against your entrance, slowly allowing his leather-clad finger to slide inside you. He never stopped his tongue, never came up for breath.  

When he had his ring finger join the other, you began to see stars. He filled you so well, scissoring inside you and curling up towards that glorious spot inside you that no other had ever found.  

“C-Cardinal... ahh,” you whimpered. It fuelled him further, hearing his title fall from your lips above him. It was all too much for him; your taste, your grip. And now that? Oh, how sinful it sounded, how beautiful, like the prettiest songbird singing its morning melody.  

He was ashamed to admit that what you were doing to him had such a tight grasp on his sanity, he was losing himself in his mind and his body was following suit. While he had no friction, no pressure, nothing to help the painful need in his crotch, he was so close...  

In his reverie, he lifted your other thigh over his shoulder, burying his face further into you as he continued using his fingers to bring you closer and closer to the edge. You had to grip the desk under you to steady yourself, allowing his animalistic urges to take total control of your body. This was nothing like your dream.  

This was so much better.  

His tongue lavished against your clit unforgivingly, lips circling and suckling from time to time as he drank you in.  

“F-fuck, Cardinal... I can’t,” you begged for nothing above him, so close to the edge, dangling by a splintering branch over a deep canyon that was ready to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help the way you bucked your hips anymore, or the way you ground your pussy down into his face, his nose becoming a tool for pleasure as much as his tongue, lips and chin.  

That splintering branch snapped clean off when he growled into you, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, back slamming down into the hard wood of the desk behind you. If you felt any pain at all, it didn’t show – you were too busy writhing and squeezing your thighs around poor Copia’s head.  

What you didn’t know, was that the growl that had pushed you into your earth-shattering orgasm had been a growl not only of lust, but of anger. At himself.  

Beneath you, Copia was squeezing your thigh with the hand that wasn’t buried inside you, desperately trying to stop himself... But his poor, untouched cock had violently flinched beneath his cassock before spilling a hot load of his seed. Copia had cum just from eating you out.  

If he didn’t feel like a pathetic pervert before tonight, he certainly did now. Who cums from just going down on a woman?  

Oh, but you were not just any woman, were you? Not to him. You were the woman he pined over, stressed over, cried over, came over every fucking night for four wretched weeks. What it was about you, he wasn’t sure, but the Cardinal had never been so besotted with a woman in his life. Dare he say it, it had started long before that night in the confessional booth... He had been drawn to you since the day you took your vows.  

And no, he just couldn’t help himself.  

You lay on the desk, catching your breath and waiting for your head to stop spinning as your limbs went lifeless around him, one slipping from his shoulder. He detached himself from your core and stood up, readjusting himself in his pants for a more comfortable position now that the wet patch in his underwear was beginning to seep through to bloom into a deep red stain on his cassock. But there was no getting comfortable with his softening cock confined and covered in his own spend.  

He stepped towards you, between your legs and reached for your hand with the glove that wasn’t still glistening with your arousal. He lifted it to his completely smudged lips, peppering the back of it with chaste kisses as you came to.  

“Mia cara... are you... okay?” he mumbled between kisses. You hummed an affirmative response back, your mind still foggy in post-orgasm haze.  

Copia continued peppering kisses to the back of your hand, to each fingertip, your wrist, a little way up your arm and back down as he waited patiently for you to come back around to him. Eventually, you sat up, pushing your habit down to cover your modesty once again. He held your hand in his, gazing up into your eyes with a soft expression you couldn’t quite read. 

When you really looked at him, you couldn’t help but giggle. His paint was smudged around his mouth, a grey hue painting him from his nose to his chin, and his hair was so dishevelled he looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge.  

“What’s so funny, cara ?” he smiled with you, the kind of smile you can’t keep off your face when someone you adore is laughing near you.  

“You look a mess,” you laughed, smoothing out the parts of his hair that were sticking up.  

“Ah, sì, you have quite a grip,” he chuckled, looking away for a moment, suddenly bashful. “I trust that was not so bad, eh?” he bit his lip as he waited for your response, a little smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Better than my dream, Cardinal,” you shyly admitted. “But um... my dream doesn’t end there...” 

Copia’s smile dropped, realising what you were hinting at. You weren’t done yet... You wanted more from him. But in order to perform, he would have to reveal what you so far had missed.  

Before he could protest, your hand was cupping his bulge under his cassock, but as you pressed your palm there, your eyes grew wide, and your gaze dropped to look at what you’d felt.  

Wet.   

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...”  

Someone had stoked the dissipating fire inside you once again, and a flame began to burn. You weren’t sure if it was knowing that Copia had cum in his pants at the taste of you, or if it was his dumbstruck look as he tried to rectify the situation with words but knowing he had been so enamoured with you that he’d reached his end even whilst neglected... that was hotter than you could have ever imagined.  

“What was it, Cardinal?” you interrupted him. He silenced quickly, cocking his head in confusion. “Was it how I sounded?” You pressed your palm to the soft bulge beneath you, not at all bothered by the wet fabric. 

“Was it how I tasted?” you asked, your confidence growing as his eyes widened in shock.  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” The heel of your palm dug into him, rotating in a small circle over his cock.  

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” You heard him moan softly as you stared into his eyes. His cock was beginning to twitch in interest again.  

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”   

That did it. Without a word, the man before you wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you to him to crash your lips together. You’d awoken something inside him, a beast that he’d been keeping tame until now. Between desperate clashes of lips and tongues, Copia began to tease you back. 

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?” he panted against your lips like a dog in heat, “it was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you,” he paused for another heated kiss, “ finally tasting what I’ve been desiring for so long,” and another, “but that I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”   

You whimpered at his words, knowing every single one was no lie. But hearing Copia call you his had you arching your back to press against him, your hips desperately seeking him out and your lips messily found his again.  

 Terzo yawned as he walked down the halls of the ministry, the days of solid paperwork and papal duties - not the mention his library rendezvous earlier that day... - catching up to him as he slogged back to his quarters. The halls were dark, silent. He didn’t rush – he didn’t have the energy to. His mind wandered as he dawdled, taking in the stained glass around him with every step he took.   

He rounded a corner, and thought he could hear shuffling coming from inside one of the seminar rooms. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the thought of having to put on his big scary Papa voice and tell whoever was out of bounds this late to go back to their dorms. Why did they make him work so hard, eh?   

As he drew closer to the door of a room he presumed was the one inhabited, he heard voices. He reached for the doorknob, until the voices registered, and he realised... These were voices he recognised...  

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...” Was that Cardinal Copia he heard stammering away in there like a moron? Well, as a higher up member of the clergy, he was okay to be out of bounds at this hour. Terzo shrugged to himself and started to turn away from the door – whatever the Cardinal was up to in there was his business. And frankly, Terzo was too tired to even realise he had been speaking to someone...    

“What was it, Cardinal?” Terzo stopped, his brows pulling together in thought. That had sounded like you, Sister _____?  What would she be doing alone with the Cardinal at this hour?   

Terzo was now intrigued, and hung around for a moment. 

“Was it how I sounded?” What on earth was she talking about?   

“Was it how I tasted?” Terzo’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. Had he heard that right?  

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” This was not the same Sorella _____ he knew, surely not? Such filth spilling from her mouth... He almost felt a swell of pride in his chest. 

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” Terzo all but jumped with giddiness at the door, keeping himself as quiet as possible to not alert those inside. He heard the Cardinal moan the most pathetic little sound, and slapped his gloved hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Oh, fratellino, you are down BAD...    

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”  

Terzo’s hand dropped when his jaw hit the floor, completely taken aback by your brazen use of such a sinful phrase. He’d clearly stumbled upon something already in motion... Suddenly, he heard a quick shuffle, followed by a suppressed moan from you and a hungry growl from the Cardinal. Terzo jumped away from the door as if it had burst into flames.  

Now, Terzo was certainly a pervert. But he was not about to eavesdrop on his brother fraternising with a sister of sin. He recoiled at the thought, shivering as he backed away to the far wall of the opposite corridor. He stood frozen for a moment, his body not reacting anywhere near fast enough.   

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?.... It was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you... but I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”  

That did it. Terzo turned and bolted down the corridor to get away from the lip-smacking sounds and the whines you let slip.  

As he rounded the corner and managed to get away from the noises that frankly would now haunt him in his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel a little... proud.    

That had been his doing. He’d pushed them together, forced them into each other’s presence knowing how absolutely pitiful and sciocco (foolish) the pair of you were being. Terzo certainly wasn’t blind – he'd seen the Cardinal’s affections, saw how your absence had affected him so. Now he was beginning to think your disappearance may even have had to do with him, in some way. Avoiding him, perhaps?  

Not that it mattered. For now, he was proud that his fratellino was making a move – however mentally scarring that move had been to overhear. 

And he told you that you were his, too. The meaning of that may have been lost in the moment, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Terzo. Copia meant that with every fibre of his being.  

He smiled to himself as he continued to walk to his chambers. For all the teasing and all the jokes Terzo made at Copia’s expense as they were growing up, he had to admit, he turned out alright in the end. His goofy little half-brother who kept his secret Beanos and drank his little juice boxes. He chuckled to himself – he certainly was proud of him. And finally, someone else saw him for more than a bumbling idiot. Someone finally didn’t underestimate him the way the rest of the ministry did.  

“Ben fatto (good job) , Terzo,” he smirked to himself. His little plan had worked; albeit, far sooner than expected, and just a little too well. 

He would be working hard this evening to forget what he’d just overheard...

Copia’s grip on your thighs around his hips tightened as he deepened your kiss, the leather of his gloves tightening and squeaking over his taught hands. You were sure he would leave bruises with how hard he held you, pulling you flush against him until your core pressed against his hardening length. You didn’t care though; any mark he left on you was like a badge of honour.  

“Dolcezza, what do you want from me, eh?” he pleaded, breathless as he trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and to your neck, never once disconnecting his lips along the way.   

“All of you, Cardinal...” you practically sang, “ please...”   

He hummed against your neck, lost entirely to his visceral need to devour you whole. You threaded your hands in his hair again, holding him tight to you as you let your head fall back, enjoying the kisses, the nips and bites, the suckling against your skin that bloomed in beautiful red and purple patches. 

Copia stood upright for a moment, biting at the leather on his right hand to free himself of his glove and spitting it to one side before he lay his palm on your cheek. He drank you in with his eyes, hooded and blown out with lust. You nuzzled into him instinctively searching out his touch, your lips finding his thumb to pepper kisses to the tip. It felt oddly intimate, more so than having his face buried between your thighs.  

No one ever saw the Cardinal – or any clergy member, for that matter – without their gloves. Their bare touch was saved for those they devoted it to, and here he was, baring himself to you . 

You pressed a final kiss to his thumb, before allowing your tongue to lave over the pad of it, your lips following to engulf his thumb in the warmth of your mouth. Copia hummed in front of you, his other hand squeezing your thigh tightly as he watched. 

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti, tesoro? (What did I do to deserve you, sweetheart?)” he groaned, pushing his thumb to smear your spit over your lips, adoring the way they glistened for him in the low light. “I want to give you all of me,” he slid his hand to your neck, a wet trail left along your skin by the saliva still on his thumb, and gripped tight enough to send a wave of excitement through you. “Every last inch...” 

You whined for him again, as your body seemed to do of its own accord, and let him capture your lips in another kiss. You could no longer stand it – you needed him, like the moon needs the sun to glow brightly in the night.   

Hastily, you reached for the buttons of his cassock, making quick work of them until he could shrug out of the heavy red wool and let it fall to the floor. He helped you then, to remove his jacket underneath while you focussed on freeing his length.  

“A little messy, mi dispiace ,” he smirked, not sorry at all for the mess he’d made when he now knew how much that had turned you on. On another occasion, you would have liked to sink to your knees, clean him up and ready him for what came next but there was no time for that. Messy or not, you simply needed him.  

You didn’t even attempt to remove his pants, instead pushing them just a little further down his hips to allow you to reach into his underwear and take him in your hand. He hissed through his teeth like you’d scalded him, but instead rocking his hips to chase your touch. He had been correct, there was certainly a mess in there – one that coated your hand as you pulled his erection free and pumped along his length once, twice...  

“ Cazzo... (Fuck...)” he groaned.  

As your hand moved, you let your eyes wonder over his body, half exposed to you now. The physique you had dreamed of wasn’t far off, except he had a little more muscle definition than your imagination had given him credit for, particularly in the two lines that framed his abdomen, leading down to where your hand worked him over. But what caught your eye most of all, was the strange tattoo that sat over his heart, hidden by a thin layer of grey-speckled chest hair.  

Three 6’s, in a spiral, marked into his chest for eternity. Your free hand traced the black lines, fingertips grazing over it making him shiver at your touch. You didn’t ask about it, there was no need. He had kept it covered, hidden from knowledge of anyone else until right now – you were the only person he ever wanted to be this vulnerable to. Someday though, you might ask him about that...  

Copia moved to remove his other glove, letting it drop to the floor beside him with the rest of his garments. His red pants still clung to his thighs, and he struggled to draw his eyes away from where your hand stroked his cum-covered cock lazily.  

With one long, drawn out stroke back up his length, you lifted your hand – smeared in his mess – and pressed two of your fingers to your tongue, sucking the mess from them as you held his eye contact. His expression darkened, baring his teeth to you like an animal as he smirked, watching you lick and suck every last bit of his essence from your hand. A fire raged within you, like lava spewing through your veins at the quiet yet guttural groan he unleashed. 

In a flash, he was dragging you to the edge of the desk where you sat, both hands burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. His hips slowly rocked against you, cock dragging through the plentiful juices you’d left for him. You hummed at the feeling of some contact, particularly the feeling of the veins and ridges of his hardness. You needed him inside you, filling you. You couldn’t drag this out anymore; it was like torture. Worse than torture.  

“Please, Cardinal...” you begged. And how could he deny you when you’d asked so nicely?  

“Kiss me, bella,” he huffed, his focus snatched away by the hypnotising sight of his cock sliding through your folds as he teased. It was as if he could only be diverted by your lips, that he couldn’t drag his attention away voluntarily.  

You grabbed him by the jaw with one hand, crushing your lips to his desperately. He growled again, the weeping head of his cock catching on your entrance and slowly, finally, he began to push inside...  

Your jaw went slack, kiss long forgotten as your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a staggered moan into his mouth.  

“ Sono qui, tesoro... (I’m here, sweetheart...)” he assured, holding your hips flush to him with a hand on the small of your back. He struggled to keep himself still, buried to the hilt and desperate to move, but you needed a moment. The feeling was overwhelming, stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, dangling dangerously there as you got used to him.  

It was a true testament to his self-control and his character that he waited for you – as soon as his length had been buried in your tight, wet warmth he thought he was a goner. He figured that this was it – this was the glorious afterlife he’d been promised, that he prayed to Lucifer for day in, day out. 

Having you pressed against him grounded him as much as he needed. He watched the expression on your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort, of regret. He found none, because there was none to give. His lips hovered above yours, enjoying the warmth of your breath as you moaned for him.  

You were wearing too many clothes still for his liking; he wanted to be unbearably close to you, to feel the warmth of your skin on his, see you in all your glory. Still buried deep inside you, he used one of his hands to unbutton your habit, slowly revealing more flesh to him, kissing down your exposed chest until he could reach no further down.  

He was so gentle with you, so patient. He fought the urges to thrust into you, to take what he so desperately wanted from you. He simply wanted this to be perfect, and the thought had your eyes glazing with an adoration that went beyond a silly little wet dream. 

As your own way of signalling you were okay, you wanted more, you shimmied out of your now open habit, letting it pool around you where you sat, and pulled the straps of your bra down, unclipping it at the back.  

He watched your slow movements, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingertips. “ Più bella di quanto avrei mai potuto immaginare (more beautiful than I ever could have imagined),” he whispered, pressing his lips to your sternum, feeling your heart beating against him. If only he had known he felt this way, that it was more than just lust – if he had admitted that to himself... 

“ Copia ...” you whined, the first time you’d called him by his name all evening... His heart swelled, smiling against the swell of your breast between kisses. “ Per favore, h-ho bisogno d-di te... (Please, I need you...)” you stuttered in broken Italian, piecing together bits you had picked up in your time in the Ministry, but he knew – oh , he knew what you were saying.  

“ Qualsiasi cosa per te, amore mio (anything for you, my love),” he replied, sweetly pressing his lips to yours as he cradled your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk into him, only for him to begin moving his hips, slowly pulling back from where he had been buried deep within your warmth for a few minutes now at least... 

You mewled into his kiss, letting your tongues dance together so beautifully. It wasn’t until he had slid almost completely away from you that he pushed his way back in, gliding almost effortlessly in the slick you’d created for him. He built his movements over a few slow thrusts, gradually setting a pace that would never bring you to any kind of climax, but enough that the two of you were swirling in pleasure, able to enjoy your first moments anchored together.   

Copia’s lips never left yours, not to allow moans the freedom to escape or to allow his lungs the freedom to breathe. You were totally, utterly enamoured with each other.  

With every roll of his hips, you edged closer and closer to a point of begging for more, begging for a means to an end. He was struggling to keep himself composed, too scared to frighten you off if he unleashed what had built inside him for the last four weeks.  

“Copia, m-more... please...” you begged, finally separating the two of you to hazily look in his beautifully distinct eyes, show him the desperation in your own.  

“Amore, if I let go, I’m not sure I can control myself...” he warned, still forcing himself to stay at the pace he’d set.  

“Then lose yourself, Cardinal... Take me,” you offered yourself to him, trusting completely that he would never do anything you didn’t desperately want yourself.  

With no further encouragement needed, and a whisper of “ Cazzo, Sathanas perdonami ... (fuck, Sathanas forgive me...) ” he picked up his pace, effortlessly sliding into you over and over until the tops of his thighs were smacking into the underside of yours. The sounds ricocheted off the stone walls around you, a sinful mix of whines, pants, grunts and skin slapping on skin swirling in the air around you.  

The hands laying loose around his shoulders slid into his hair, pulling tight to press his forehead to yours. The desk beneath you groaned and creaked under the force, scraping along the floors with each hit. Your Cardinal’s cock filled you so deliciously, his hips angled to hit the back of your cervix and the top of your pussy where that tantalising sweet spot lay.  

“I wanted you for so long, amore mio...” he confessed, “so completely, like un patetico bastardo (a pathetic bastard).” He grit his teeth together, grunting like an animal as he fucked into you. He fought the urge to push you back down against the desk and lift your thighs up, spreading you open as much as possible for him, wanting to savour the closeness, the way he could feel your breath beading in condensation on his neck.  

“S-six months...” It was your turn to confess. “I’d b-been dreaming of... you... for six months...” you cried out as he slammed into you harder, fuelled by your admission.  

“ Bella , you’ll be the end of me, eh?” he chuckled between pants of breathlessness. “ Adesso sono tutto tuo (now I’m all yours...)”   

The coil in your abdomen wound impossibly tighter, threatening to fracture at any moment with the way he rolled his hips up into you, filling you deliciously with each pistoning motion. You felt the ripples from each violent thrust over and over against your clit where his body met yours, and the way his nails dug into your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises with deep crescent shapes imprinted in your skin.  

“C-can’t... hold...” you could barely string a sentence together in your current state, “ fuck...”   

“Cum for me, amore. Cum for your Cardinal, eh?” he roared. And well, you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to.  

Fire spread from your core through every nerve ending, spanning your entire body and you squealed and writhed against him. He never faltered, not missing a single beat as you shook and spilled around his cock. The way your walls fluttered around him, squeezed him impossibly tighter made every thrust a struggle, but he fought it – he couldn’t let you down now.  

He tensed his body, staving off another orgasm as long as he possibly could. He wanted you to revel in yours, wanted to watch you come undone on his cock like he’d dreamed of so many times. A litany of profanities and mumblings of his name spilled in incoherent babble as your limbs turned to jelly, barely clinging onto him to stay upright. If you were to fall back or forward, you were to choose forward, slumping against his sweaty chest, your head sitting where his neck met his shoulder.  

In your tired and overstimulated state, all you could do for him was mouth at the skin there, leaving sloppy kisses while your pussy continued to pulse around him until eventually, he gripped your chin tightly to lift your head and crash his lips to yours. He growled into your mouth, hips stuttering and slowing – he had cum inside you, needing to taste you again as he did so.  

With his final few thrusts, his spend leaked from around his cock, mixing with your own climax. He punctuated each thrust with a hum of satisfaction, until he couldn’t take the movement anymore, his cock too sensitive to continue. Still, he didn’t remove himself. Not yet...  

Somehow you both slumped together, keeping each other upright with your body weight alone. Your chests rose and fell together, trying to regulate your breathing to have an opportunity to speak at all. But honestly? The pair of you were happy in your blissful silence together for a moment. 

After a few minutes, it was you who spoke first. 

“I thought you would hate me...” you sighed against his shoulder. Copia’s brows furrowed together, and he stood himself up removing his softening length from you, holding you by your shoulders to get a good look at you.  

“Why would you ever think that, amore mio?” he asked, genuinely confused.  

“I thought I had overstepped, that night in the confessional. I thought you were ashamed, disgusted...” you drooped your head in sadness at the memory of him excusing you so abruptly that evening.  

“No... not with you, never you , tesoro,” he assured. “At myself, sì? I assumed you would despise how I took advant-” 

“Cardinal no, you didn’t... Sathanas, we’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” you chuckled, shaking your head at your antics.    “Idioti innamorati (idiots in love),” he laughed, until he realised what he’d actually just said – and then the colour drained from his face, his eyes blowing out wide in horror.  

You smiled softly, taking his hands from your shoulders and pulling him to take a step closer to you.     “Idioti innamorati,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose, still greyed from the smudging of his paints. Copia smiled sheepishly, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this before, much less ever had someone reciprocate his feelings. He felt strangely at peace, more so than he ever had.  

“Tesoro, promise me something, eh?” he asked. You nodded, willing him to continue. “Never hide from me again, okay? I damn near lost my mind.”  

You laughed at your idiocy. “I promise, Cardinal.” You leaned forward to press your lips against his, sweetly capturing the moment in a blissful kiss.  

When you pulled apart, he wordlessly helped to gather the garments that had been carelessly removed and dressed you again. You exchanged jokes about the messes you both were, how vile it felt to put your clothes back on with the feeling of your spend seeping from you and his still damp in his underwear... How truly ridiculous you both were.  

“Come, bella. I have a rather large shower cubicle I think we can both put to good use,” he flirted, pulling you to him by your waist now you were both fully dressed. You agreed, taking him by the hand and wondering through the corridors together back to the clergy suites.  

“Besides, I have something of yours I feel I must give back...” Copia laughed at himself, somehow no longer afraid to admit what he had been up to in your absence when he knew now just how depraved your own mind could be.  

Your mind ticked over at what on earth he could possibly mean, until it dawned on you... You had lost your fucking glove.  

“ You pervert!” you accused, smacking his chest playfully as you walked. “Maybe I don’t want it back, Lucifer knows what you’ve done with that thing...” The two of you giggled and flirted your way back, uncaring and unaware of any prying ears that may hear voices late into the night.  

And there were indeed prying ears, albeit accidentally, that perked up at the sound of voices outside his chambers... 

Terzo sat on his couch with a glass of vintage red in his hand, attempting to read a book to take his mind off the sinful noises he’d heard from his fratello earlier that evening. When he recognised the noises, he groaned to himself.  

‘Must they parade around to remind me of that?’ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes and standing to look through the peephole of his door. He saw the two of you waltzing through the dimly lit corridor, hand in hand like teenagers. The dopey look on his brother’s face was, to him, a wonderful sight; so hopelessly enamoured with you as you giggled and laughed together into the night.   

He had always hoped Copia would find someone like you – perhaps that’s why you were the one sister he never tried to bed, the one he felt was off limits to him. Maybe he had always known... but he was glad to see his fratellino acting like himself in your presence. Goofy, dopey Copia. Perhaps now, he could stop looking for approval from those he looked up to and looked down on him, and focus his efforts on simply being himself. After all, he had now found someone who liked him for who he was, not who he hoped to be .  

“Idioti innamorati,” he muttered to himself, chuckling at his win.  

Sì, his fratellino could be himself now – however pathetic he may be...   FIN

A/N: I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing this. This may be my first Ghost fic, but it will NOT be my last - so if you'd like to stick around for more, I'd be incredibly grateful. Send me some head canon requests or some drabble prompts - I'm MORE THAN HAPPY to do those for you. Endless love, Bee 🖤 TAG LIST: @melvilless @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @edensbuttercups @daughter0fcain @xnothingpersonalx @assassinprocrastinator @funfetti-furby @kadedoesthings @sunbleached-ghoul @gravehags @gbatesx @solluna00 @mae-mei-m @bolliancat @ghulehsin @socksandcr0cs @girlwithissuesworld @fallen-angelito @maccery @wjyndigo @thew0man @a-fools-circus @luxavier @saintedcooper @whatawonderfulexistence--blog @calamity-queen @eternaltiare @moongoore @wagooo @dolceterzo @emeritusing @letstalkstories @sacred-coffin @rainstorms-library @ryos-cruddy-side-blog @fruitmanstyles @relentlessmoon @cardinal-copingmechanism @werich @strawberriiblossoms @evepeve @portaltothevoid @casualghostfan @copias-juicebox @sl1psth3magg0t @enchantedbunny @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

[roxxiies]

First time ever requesting something haha

I've been in the MLBB fandom for years now but I never knew that there was a fanfic fandom for it??? I've been missing out for so long!

I'm attracted to so many MLBB men but I find myself being so into Yin personality wise, so I'm here to kindly ask for more fics about him.

I'm thinking suggestive but not necessarily smut. Just a dose of reader making him extremely flustered and worked up because she just read something interesting and she wanted to test it out and poor Yin goes along with it until he's hard and aching but he's too shy to ask for help from the oblivious reader who's treating the whole thing as a science experiment lol. At the end, she finally notices his pout and finds him adorable before giving him a hand job or something to help him out?

If you're not into that kind of thing, I would love a cute story from Yin's pov about how he gradually falls for reader and how she heals his trauma through the affection she shows him?

Thanks!!!

𝐘𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: NSF(W), MASTURBATION. MNDI

a.n.: back and alive

To Yin's surprise, you took his debt joke a little too seriously, as he was now forced to come to your house immediately. The sun was yet to set when he made himself walk up to your house, his movement a bit sluggish from the intense training he just did as he lifted himself inside your window.

His eyes, although seemingly tired, couldn't mistake the mat on the floor as you carefully laid them.

“Hi, what are you—”

“Yin! I'm so glad you came!” You beamed as you noticed him and gently ushered him to lay on the mat. You then continued, your voice betraying your excitement, “I’m trying something out! I'll be proposing yoga exercises to my patients whenever they experience strains in their body. And since you owe me a favour and quite a regular, you'll help me!”

Yin wouldn't deny his frequent visits, he claims that he's helping you practice your healing skills. He would then often try to cause trouble or injure himself during trainings just to have your attention solely back to his.

But this was different, you were the one asking his presence now... and that made his heart flutter in his chest despite how tired he was with his earlier training. Of course, he agreed on the spot.

He carefully sat on the mat and his exhausted mind tries to comprehend your suggestion. He sheepishly chuckles at your last sentence, “But... I barely know yoga.”

“Don't worry, it’s similar to your training but more… relaxing, I guess?” You sort of assured him and lifted a paper with the listed exercises you had readied earlier. “And maybe you'll finally stop having daily trips to my house just because you have strains.”

For the last few hours, it was thanks to Yin's training that most of the exercises were finished and now suggested for your yoga plan. Then there was the ‘upward dog’ where he let out a chuckle at the name.

You scolded him immediately and he quickly frowns as you ordered him to lie on his stomach, his face showed scepticism as you moved to crouch just a few feet away from his head.

“Then, place both of your hands, laid flat on the surface, parallel to your chest below it. Then, lift your head—like, with your shoulders,” You gently guided his chin to raise until you were satisfied with his position as he let out a grunt at the effort. You smiled and moved to his side while crouching and placed a slight pressure on his back. “Does that feel good? Did you feel something on your back?”

Yin’s hands faltered briefly as he felt your gentle touch on his back, his tone barely relaxed, “Back feels nice…”

You stood up and scribbled on your notes with a hum, “Alright, next position: the plank pose. I'm sure you're familiar with this one.”

He nods as he gently shifted his position. His movements were much more shaky beneath your gaze compared to when he does it alone. He lifted his body just a few inches from the floor, and you quickly noticed the slight arch.

You slipped your hand below him and carefully made his stomach area lift up to have his back straight, his breath hitching as he shakily followed your guidance and quietly whimpered.

"Hmm, are you sure you do this daily?” 

“Yeah…” he murmurs in a shaky tone.

You only hummed and just proceeded to do more exercises. However, whenever you guide him to a pose from a pose, he reluctantly denies your help because he knows you'll notice it right away. Because one after the other, his body feels hot and hotter.

“Yin. Yin, are you listening? I said, lift your hips higher—like, push your hips outward.” 

“I… c-can’t.” He grunts. Of course, he can't do it, it'll obviously leave a mark.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you had to press his back more outward for his lower back to stretch. But once he felt your touch again, his eyes widened, and he let out a surprised gasp. He was afraid you'd see it from up close— The thought itself made the strength in his arms waver and made him fall down on the mat.

You gasped as worry took over your expression. You immediately sat beside his scrunched form and gently massaged his hips where most took the damage. He let out a quiet whimper at the touch as he tried to weakly push your shoulders, afraid that you'd see his hard on.

“Yin, I'm trying to help—”

“P-please—I can't take it anymore…”

You frowned. “I mean, we'll take a break. But why so sudden— Oh.”

Yin swallowed as he trailed where your gaze was, and he immediately tried to cover himself, his tone shaky in embarrassment. “S’rry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just that you're so close and—” and I need you badly.

It took a lot in you to not back away and disappoint your favourite patient. Even if Yin was a headache to deal with everyday, you can't deny you've taken a liking of him recently. And maybe it's the reason you've specifically called him and not your other friends. But it's like, your day wouldn't be complete without his beaming face looking at your way.

You swallowed and let out a soft sigh, “I see… do you want me to...”

You trailed off and Yin's eyes shot up at you, his expression weary as he shakes his head, “It’s fine... I won't force you to do anything.”

But once he heard your soft giggle and your reassuring words, he let out a sigh and finally let his urges take him over completely. He captured your lips in a passionate manner as you shifted to straddle his legs. Your own lips match his fervour as you briefly gasp to take a breath and back again.

He groans once on your lips as he feels your hands roam around his hips. He fumbled to open his pants and brought down his boxers. He sighs in relief as he finally lets it free.

Your hand gently wraps over his, and he groans from the touch. You admired his length and gave it a few jerks.

He moved his hands to your hips as he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face on your neck, he breathed a low sigh, “You could just give me this— I'll be, Ill be fine.”

You gave it a few more pumps as he felt his body getting warmer. You gently lifted your palm to tease his tip, and he whimpers as you feel him hug you tighter. You smeared the precum you collected from his tip across his cock as you felt its pulses under your touch, he let outs a gasp again.

Your chest was flush against his now, and you whispered, your voice sultry but soft, “Your cute sounds make you irresistible, baby. Try to slack that pretty mouth more f’me, ah?”

Yin's flustered face looks up at you briefly and his lips finds your lips once again, his breath shaky as he intertwines your tongue with his. He groans as he feels you hastening your movement, he hides his face again.

You giggled at the sight of the current state of Yin and couldn't help but remember his usual playful and carefree attitude you fell in love with. You preferred him this way, you thought.

You sped up as your other hand caressed his toned abdomen, your fingers roam around his abs and you gasped as you felt him suddenly jerk his hips to meet your hand. He muttered a quiet sorry as you licked your lips and you stilled his hips and your movement. He groans in frustration, but you only chuckled and couldn't help but tease your pretty boy, “You're close, aren't you?”

He frantically nods as his face is still nuzzled on your neck, and he shakily whimpers, “Y-yes, baby—please, keep moving.”

You huffed, continued to pump his cock again, and hastened your movements. He gasps as he feels that knot inside of him about to snap, and his abdomen tightens as he holds you tighter. His breathing quickened, and with a last jerk of his hips, he shoots pretty white strings, and he groans loudly. It coated up your hand and some on his chest. He tried to calm his breathing but whimpered as he heard your giggle again.

“You sound so angelic when you come, Yin. Makes me want to do it again.” Your soft tone made him huff in embarrassment as you gently pulled him away from your chest to see his flustered expression.

He frowned, his face still heated and he swallowed, “Don’t.. don't just casually say that.” He grunts as he feels you put himself back in his pants and wipe his waste off of him and on your hand with a napkin.

“How can I? It makes me want to keep you all to myself.” You grinned, your tone teasing as you tossed the napkins away in your trashcan. But you won't deny, keeping him to yourself is indeed such a dream.

His heart flutters but still embarrassed by the whole situation. You looked at his expression, and you hummed as if thinking, then you smiled cheekily and said, “How about it, Yin? Will you be my boyfriend?”

back to all my work . . .

[tickly-trashcan]

What Goes Around... {Zane, Cole, Kai, and Jay}

A/N: okay my bad i totally ignored that poll bc i wanted to post this so bad LOL i literally wrote this in almost an entire sitting HELP ME i went absolutely bonkers after @/jettorii posted some art (go check them out right now!!) and i just. yeah. anyways!! i think this is so so funny and i think these guys are goofy as hell and i just. yeah. i am gonna stop talking now bc i literally spent so much brainpower writing this i cant think anymore LOL

Summary: Zane keeps walking in on his fellow ninja getting tickled. But you know what they say: what goes around, comes around!

Word Count: 2.3k (under the cut!)

“Nononohohoho!!! Jay, get ohohohoff!” Cole wheezed, kicking his legs weakly as he tried to shake Jay off of him. Jay only laughed, scribbling his fingers all over Cole’s sides as Cole hollered, pounding his fists into the ground.

Zane walked into the room after hearing the commotion, holding back a laugh as he witnessed Cole desperately trying to wiggle away from Jay. Cole was laying on his belly while Jay straddled his back, tickling him mercilessly. Cole wailed, looking up and seeing Zane.

“Zahahahane!! Hehehelp me, plehehehease!!”

Zane raised an eyebrow, noticing where Jay was tickling Cole. “Jay, why aren’t you tickling his ribs? Isn’t he more ticklish there?”

“You are so right!! Thanks, Zane!”

“Why!? Zahahahane, dohohon’t leheHEAVE!! JAhahay!!” Cole screeched when Jay found his ribs, digging in lightly as Cole tried to clamp his arms down, squirming around frantically.

“Ha! Now you’ll think twice before you try and mess with my stuff!”

“Thehehen don’t leave your – HAha! Don’t leheheave your juhunk all over the plahahace!”

“Junk!? What are you calling junk? You asked for it…!”

Zane walked away quickly before it escalated further, chuckling to himself as he heard Cole shriek again from down the hall, begging for Jay to stop. He didn’t particularly know exactly what had been happening, but Cole had probably done something he shouldn’t have.

Zane went to work on dinner, but he could still hear Cole laughing down the hallway. When he finally called for dinner he heard footsteps running down the hall. Jay peeked his head in and commented on how delicious it smelled.

“Where’s Cole?” Zane asked, dishing up some food for Jay as Kai walked in as well.

Jay chuckled. “He’s recovering.”

Kai looked at Jay with a worried face. “What do you mean… ‘recovering’?”

Jay shrugged and then explained to Kai how Cole had knocked over one of the things he’d been working on with some parts that his parents had sent him. Kai only rolled his eyes before taking a plate from Zane.

Cole eventually walked in, his face a resting scowl as he glared at Jay. He walked up to Zane, who dished him up some food as well. He narrowed his eyes at Zane as he took the plate. He quickly sat down next to Kai, staring down Jay. Jay stared back, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you glaring at me for?”

“What do you think!?”

Kai sighed. “Can we have a peaceful dinner, please? Nya’s already been bugging me to the point of a headache.”

Jay snorted. The dinner was quiet aside from the typical chatter, and Nya and Sensei Wu eventually came in as well, sitting down at the table to eat with the ninja. 

The next day, Zane was sitting in the bedroom meditating. They were docked for a little while as Jay and Nya did some repairs, so Zane was taking advantage of the quiet.

That quiet only lasted for so long, however. There was a sudden screech from the deck, making Zane jump up in alarm. He ran outside, but his worries washed away as he noticed Kai and Cole on the ground wrestling. The two of them were probably training. Zane sighed and was about to turn back in when the screeching turned to laughter.

“Dohohohon’t you dahahare! Cohohole, I swehehehear–!”

“You started it! I totally won that last round, but you’re too stubborn to admit it!”

“I’m nohohot stubborn!! You’re stubbohohorn!!”

Cole snorted, going back to squeezing Kai’s hips as he threw his head back and hollered.

Zane chuckled as he walked over to Kai and Cole, crossing his arms as he watched Kai flailing around like as if he were fighting for his life. Cole had him pinned with his leg, squeezing his hips as Kai rolled around as much as he could.

“Zahahahane! Sahahave me!!”

“Pfft, like he would. He totally stabbed me in the back yesterday!”

Zane furrowed his brows at Cole. Cole only shrugged. “What? You did!”

“It was because Jay wasn’t tickling you right. I mean, you’re not tickling Kai right, either. He’s much more ticklish on his feet.”

Cole’s eyes widened and he looked down at Kai, smirking evilly. Kai shook his head wildly, giggling nervously. “Cole– Cole, let’s talk about this!!”

“Thank you very much for the intel, Zane!”

“Zane, plehehease, you neeheed to heheHEHELP!! Cole, not thehehehehere!!!”

While Kai was trying to get Zane to help, Cole quickly put Kai’s ankles in a leglock. He scribbled his fingers all over the soles, making Kai throw his head back and practically yell. He tried to kick his legs around, wiggling and squirming as he cackled.

“Zahahahane!! Trahahaitor!!”

Zane rolled his eyes. “You’ll live.”

Zane quickly scuttled away as Cole scratched at Kai’s feet. Kai was bright red when Zane turned around for one last glance, and his laughter was echoing across the deck of the Bounty.

Zane returned to his meditation and managed to clear his head a little bit before Jay walked in. He was grumbling and he had grease all over his face as Zane chuckled. “You have a little something on your face, Jay.”

“Yeah, Zane, I know. I was fixing this little… Ugh, I don’t even remember what it’s called. My brain is fried.”

Zane hummed. “Take a rest. Want to meditate?”

Jay groaned. “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll just avoid Nya for a little while. She’s better at the Bounty repairs than I am.”

Zane chuckled and Jay wiped his face of grease. Kai and Cole eventually walked in as well. Cole had a rather smug look on his face while Kai looked like he was still catching his breath, shooting glares at Cole and Zane.

“My feet are still tingling…” Kai grumbled, making Cole laugh.

“Does that mean you have… Tingle Toes?”

Zane, Kai, and Cole all turned to look at Jay with rather unamused faces. “Do… Do you guys get it? Like twinkle toes but with tingles. Tingle Toes! Hahaha… I’ll stop.”

The four of them eventually went off to do their own thing again, with Kai and Jay going to check on Nya while Cole and Zane started dinner.

“Cole, can I trust you to not burn this?” Zane asked, setting his apron down for a moment. Cole rolled his eyes.

“Of course, you can!! I’m not Kai!”

Zane hesitantly left the kitchen, going onto the deck in order to check on Kai, Jay, and Nya. “Dinner’s almost ready, you guys. Probably another five minutes–”

“Kai, plehehehease!! I was juhuhust kidding!!”

Nya walked by Zane on her way in, sighing dramatically. “Zane, can you de-escalate them? I’ll go make sure that Cole doesn’t burn dinner.”

Zane mouthed a quick “thank you” and went over to where Kai and Jay were. Kai had his arm wrapped around Jay’s waist while he dug under his arm, making Jay squeal and snort as he tried to wiggle out of Kai’s arm.

“Zahahahane! I didn’t dohoho ahahahanything wrong!! Dohohon’t listen to Kahahai!”

“He’s a total liar, Zane! He was flirting with Nya right in front of my face! Do you even understand how traumatizing that is, Jay?”

“I’m an ohohohonly child!!” Jay retorted. Kai scoffed.

“Zane, where should I tickle him?”

Jay shook his head, squirming. “Dohohon’t tell him!!”

Zane chuckled. “You don’t know it’s his stomach?”

“Zahahahane!!!” Jay squealed, shrieking when Kai immediately began to claw at his tummy. Jay’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground, Kai following as he used both hands to scribble across his tummy.

“Thank you, Zane! We’ll be in for dinner in… What did you say, five minutes?”

“I’m gohohohonna die!! Zahahahane, plehehehease!!”

Zane turned around. “Gotta make sure dinner doesn’t burn.”

Zane could hear Jay pleading for him to come back while Kai tickled him to bits. Even as Zane closed the door to the kitchen, Jay could still be heard. 

Nya and Cole were standing by the food, Nya stirring the pot while Cole watched. “Thank you for de-escalating, Zane.”

Cole chuckled. “He probably just made it worse.”

Nya rolled her eyes. “Jay had it coming.”

Cole and Zane nodded in agreement.

Jay and Kai eventually walked into the kitchen, Kai looking triumphant as ever while Jay was bright pink and teary, waving weakly to Nya. He sat down quickly before Kai noticed him waving, leaning against the table for support.

The group chatted during dinner, Jay joining in as soon as he had fully recovered from the tickle attack he had suffered earlier. Nya and Zane cleaned up while the rest of the group went to the bedroom, getting ready to finally go to bed.

“Urgh, I ate too much,” Jay complained, rubbing his tummy while he laid on his bed. Kai snickered, poking him there as Jay jumped. “I will literally kick you off the Bounty, Kai. No more tickles!”

Cole laughed, nudging Kai. “Lemme guess: Zane told you one of Jay’s spots?”

“Yeah, it’s only fun when you’re not on the receiving end,” Kai said, shooting a quick glare at Cole, who held his hands up in defense. Jay whined.

“He totally betrayed me! I wasn’t even doing anything wrong!”

Kai raised an eyebrow at Jay. “Are you serious?”

Before Jay could dig his own grave again, Cole interrupted. “Well, do you guys know who hasn’t been on the receiving end yet?”

Kai’s eyes widened as he realized what Cole was suggesting, a big grin growing on his face. Jay furrowed his brows until he caught on, sitting up with a grin. Just as the three of them unanimously decided on what to do, the door opened. They all turned to see Zane walking in, yawning as he closed it behind him. He stopped.

“...Why are you all staring at me?”

“We’re not staring at you,” Jay said, still staring at Zane. 

Zane nodded his head slowly, walking over to his bed. “Okay… Uhm… Goodnight?”

“Wait, Zane, I want a goodnight hug,” Cole said quickly, making Kai choke on a laugh. Jay fell back on his bed giggling as Zane chuckled.

Cole quickly gave Zane a big hug, lifting him off the ground as Zane groaned. He pat Cole’s back when he set him down, shifting after a few moments. “You can let me go now.”

“Nope, not yet,” Cole smirked. He quickly scooped Zane up by hooking his arms under Zane’s, lifting him off the ground as Zane gasped.

“Wait, Cole, put me down!” Zane kicked his legs a bit as Kai and Jay started to walk up to him, raising their hands. His eyes widened as he shook his head. “No wait, you guys!”

“Where should we tickle him, Cole?”

Cole hummed, Zane already giggling nervously as Jay hovered his hands over his torso. “Why don’t we try the spots he said for us? What were they, Zane?”

Zane clamped his mouth shut, his face twisted into a nervous smile as Kai laughed. “He’s suddenly very quiet! We could start with his belly. That’s where I got Jay.”

“Hey!”

Kai ignored Jay’s offended tone and poked Zane’s tummy a few times, making him squirm in Cole’s arms as he giggled a few times. Jay followed, scribbling at his lower tummy as Zane squeaked, trying to wiggle away from Jay. Kai tickled the sides of his stomach and Zane gasped, breaking out into a fit of giggles as the two of them tickled him.

“Nohohoho! This isn’t fahahair!”

“It totally is! You were exposing us left and right earlier!!” Jay pointed out, giving Zane’s hips a quick squeeze. Zane jolted, kicking his legs out a bit as Kai and Jay avoided it. He whined, trying to pull his arms free as he pushed lightly at Kai and Jay’s faces.

“Where else, Cole?”

“Try his ribs!”

Jay stayed tickling Zane’s stomach while Kai began to dig into his ribs, making Zane shriek uncharacteristically before laughing, twisting from side to side to try and avoid Kai’s tickly fingers. It didn’t help that Cole was holding his arms up, completely exposing his ribs as Kai tickled him. Jay scribbling his fingers all over his stomach didn’t help either as Zane laughed.

“Stahahahap! I’m sohohohorry!! Plehehehease, no mohore!”

“You could always tell us your spot, Zane! Maybe then this would go quicker!” Cole snickered, but Zane shook his head.

“Nohohoho!”

“I’m gonna try his feet,” Jay said, reaching for Zane’s ankle. He pulled his leg away, kicking it out of Jay’s reach for a few moments before Jay finally managed to catch it. He laughed triumphantly and began to scribble his fingers all over his foot, making Zane yelp. He kicked his foot around, his other leg flailing uselessly as Jay chuckled.

Kai crept up towards Zane’s upper ribs, making him shriek and shake his head, squirming. “Nohoho! Kai, dohohon’t!!”

“Don’t what?” Kai smirked, slowly bringing his hands up higher. Zane whined, trying to tug his arms down as he laughed profusely. “I don’t think Zane even needs to tell us! His spot is right… here!”

Kai quickly dug his fingers under Zane’s arms, making him shriek and cackle, squirming around frantically as the rest of the group laughed with him. Zane tried to squirm away, laughing and wiggling as Kai scribbled under his arms.

“Nohohohot thehehehere!! Kahahai, please!! No mohohohore!!”

“Should we cut him some slack?” Cole finally asked. Kai and Jay exchanged a glance and ceased their tickling. Cole set Zane down on his bed as he continued to giggle, gently swatting Cole’s hands away as he curled up.

“I cahahan still feeheel it,” He whined. 

“We’re even now, right?”

Zane nodded quickly, making the group laugh as they all finally tucked into bed. They all said goodnight, but Zane’s residual giggles could still be heard for a little while, putting smiles on everyone’s faces.

[tartrazeen]

Things I appreciate in the FNaF movie as I go, but under the cut so I don't spoil things for people:

(update: watched the whole thing, excellent movie for fans, pretty fun movie for those who are new to the franchise, will be best experienced back-to-back once all the movies are out, may finally be the thing that causes MatPat's head to pop)

1. The cold open's Chekhov's Loose Screw

2. The very charming 16-bit snatch-and-grabs that Golden Bonny super casually pulled off

3. The Dream Theory book

4. The absolute mockery of the canonicity of any theory and how it "depends on what you believe" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Loved that

5. Mike's PTSD-fuelled fountain tackle

6. The very slight room for hope I have that Matthew Lillard is somehow Phone Guy but as an employment centre guy

7. The fact that they are not gonna say Mike's last name lmaooooooo

8. The obvious Evil Inspiration mood switch from Matthew Lillard as soon as he gets to Mike's last name

9. The fact that they're only barely pretending that Abby isn't actually seeing real ghosts

10. The slight possibility that Garrett is gonna be the Puppet rather than Golden Freddy

11. The suspicious hint that pictures are the most canon thing out of all the evidence we have in the series so far 👀

12. The fact that none of the letters in the sign are burnt out

13. The fact that oh my god YES Matthew Lillard is covering Phone Guy's role, but is obviously also gonna be Purple Guy, CONFIRMING ONE OF MATPAT'S ORIGINAL THEORIES RETROACTIVELY LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

14. How little Training Lady blinks

15. The training tape that ABSOLUTELY has freeze frame lore bits in it

16. baby bb :3

17. The static in the speaker gearing up to be the IT'S ME hallucination

18. Omg the five kids in the dream - is this actually proving me right about the brother being the Puppet?!

19. is that fucking matpat

20. IS THAT FUCKING MATPAT

21. DO YOU KNOW HOW SCARED I GODDAMN WAS THAT HE WASN'T GONNA BE REFERENCED IN THIS MOVIE LIKE SOME WEIRD SNUB BECAUSE NO ONE WAS TALKING ABOUT IT AND THIS GUY HAD A GODDAMN ROLE IN IT THE WHOLE TIME

22. DO YOU KNOW HOW HAPPY I AM YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

23. THIS MOVIE GETS A FREE PASS ON LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE THAT CAN HAPPEN NOW 💖😍💖😍💖😍💖😍💖😍💖😍💖

24. Also that interrupted the thing I like being that my dumb ass only now realized that "I wish somebody would buy me a ring" wasn't a reference I missed, just her saying she had a crush on Mike lmao

25. The black crying tears :3

26. 🤔 The interesting but satisfying choice to write IT'S ME in the mirror instead

27. The real possibility that they're going to make Vanessa a legit twist villain this time to make up for Security Breach

28. Bonny's eyes opening first 👀

29. Casual use of the word 'golden' to mean good lmao

30. Fuckin' Chica's stare at the other guy, narrowing her eyes like that LMAOOOOOOOOO

31. The kids havin' a little giggle on the phone

32. LMAOOOOOOO THE LOADING OF THE CUPCAKE INTO THE VENT

33. Foxy sticking to that Sixth Night in FNaF 1 from Help Wanted insta-trigger

34. The Bite of Whatever-Year-This-Is 😍

35. Vanessa's very creepy over-familarity

36. The description of Mike's family dinners matching the dinner scene in the Security Breach basement

37. Chekhov's Electric Guitar Riff

38. Abby putting a hit on Mike with the robots by scribbling his face out lol

39. The pharmacist 🤣💖

40. The actual legit deal the kids are trying to make, which is WAY more story than this series has ever had

41. This movie have the backbone to show actual on-screen violence - like, legit and genuine and soooo overdue violene, FINALLY

42. The screw paying off 👏🏽

43. The set up for Abby to actually become Baby 👀

44. The hope she'll call him the Purple Guy

45. Ahhahahahahhaha the disappointment that she didn't looooool oh well, I guess they're making that part of Security Breach canon somehow? Vanessa being his daughter? Okay

46. The genuine hope that Matthew Lillard is actually just Phone Guy, which would be amazing, because I really hope Springtrap doesn't reveal who's inside until the third movie

Edit: goddammit nvm

47. Sweet performance though, this is legit the voice Afton should've always had, not that weird British thing

48. How pissed Golden Freddy's ghost looks LOLOLOLOLOLLOLOL just closing that door

49. 👀 surprisingly bad-ass end credits song

50. 🤔 the odd realization that I'm not sure that was five nights

51. >:3 bb

In conclusion:

- shockingly good!

- I can't believe there was an actual story!

- Springtrap really said "hi i'm here too but i left the car running so chop chop on this scene plz"

- The "Come Find Me" spelled at the end of credits was good 👀

- Soooooooooo incredibly excited to have MatPat slam through this and have his head exploding juggling movie-verse, book-verse, and game-verse. I think we can actually break him, you guys!! :D

[freebooter4ever]

So im still exhausted. I keep making dumb mistakes and doing stupid shit like leaving charging cords at work or at home. My coordination is gone, im tripping and knocking into things. My eyes feel sore??? All i want to do anymore is lie down and try to sleep. :/

I think i was running on pure adrenaline last week...and now that 'panic' mode is done my body is paying me back for all the stress. :( i barely slept the entire time i was traveling, i regularly drove for like 10+ hrs on next to no sleep which...yeah. I know. Dangerous. The constant tension of whether or not snow was going to make my next route passable, and worry over keeping other people's schedules. And then to get to my grandparents house and to find out they're not moving till may and the 'end of march' deadline was an arbitrary schedule that didnt actually matter. Im not mad, i cant be mad at them they're moving which is stress enough, im just...mourning my exhaustion and inability to function lol. Had they let me wait even one more month the snow and the insane storms would have been gone.

Anyway, just thinking about that feeling of 'safety' or 'comfort' and how precious a thing it is for me (and my sleep) . After my anxiety started growing worse it takes a LOT for me to feel 'safe' with someone or somewhere. My italian grandparent's house would be one, nick's sister's house would be another. And then my friends house in the mountains of oregon, who are just the kindest, most generous people. The two nights i spent there were literally the only times i slept last week.

Back in the fall of 2018, six months after grandpa died and still unemployed, i helped grandma travel by train to ohio, flew back to seattle, stayed with sanjeev for a week ish, and then started south to los angeles because i literally couldnt think of anywhere else to go. And these friends in oregon - they were off traveling at the time - let me stay in their house for over a week. I was so scared about the future, i was still grieving and feeling like a total ghost, still processing my dad's very friendly comment (when i asked him why he hadn't offered to let me stay in his house after i flew back from ohio) about how if i couldn't afford to house myself i deserved to be homeless.

(honestly that wasn't even the part that bothered me - i knew that about my dad from the time when i was a kid and he would point out homeless people to me and jokingly say 'that will be you as an artist!'. Instead of instilling fear in me though this backfired and all my charity work in high school dealt with homeless shelters lol. But no, the part that bothered me was how he tacked another comment onto the end - that life 'couldn't go back to how it was'. THAT was when i broke down crying in front of him because i think stupid me still genuinely believed that if i moved back to seattle my dad would go back to being my best friend and it'd be us against the world again.)(i saw him for five minutes in sac last week - he refused to even have lunch with us)

Instead in 2018 i was anchorless, emotionally disconnected from reality, and instead of comdemning me like everybody else in my family, my friends were like 'dont worry about it, the house is empty, please use it.' And i did! I was nervous at first. But then i started exploring the area - went to a bunch of state parks out in the middle of nowhere hidden in the high desert. Ended up LOVING one of them and collected those tacky tourist maps and just scribbled all my observations and tips on the best roads to drive/things to do/see onto the margins. And i collected all the brochures and compiled a kind of guide, and left it on the counter just in case my friends hadn't found that particular area to explore yet. And sure enough, they hadn't! To this day they still talk about how happy they were to have all these suggestions and things to see, and how that particular area is now one of their favorite places to visit. So what im saying is that's the only place i got any rest last week. Also those pancakes. I need to make those pancakes.

Anyway i'm just so fucking tired, man. This is the second 'vacation' where i've come back more exhausted than when i left, i think i need to do something differently. (also fuck you dad, five years in LA and not homeless once)

[fujoshawty]

i dont have any digital or very good drawings rn a lot of them are gesture practice stuff and figure studies from the photos vyv's guy takes when youre on hunts but ermmm lol. sorry 2 lazy scribbles only the rest will be Text and then i will probably post my copium self indulgent fic on ao3 or smth

her name is jolyne fidelia bc i cannot go without making it painfully obvious that this is supposed to be a self insert so me if i was awesome 💔

she calls insomnia her home, but is a tenebraen refugee who was brought to the citadel as a child. she had always had a penchant for lightning elemancy and a knack for warping, making her an easy candidate for the kingsglaive.

prior to the coup, she was reassigned by regis himself away from the citadel to tail noctis once he departed. she was more like a spy for insomnia to begin with, so it was the perfect mission. after insomnia fell, she relied on espionage missions provided to her by monica to survive outside of insomnia. soon enough, she began taking bounties, making a new life for herself while helping noctis and the others with tips, information, and their biggest bounties. her work infiltrating many of the bases of the empire helped cor and monica understand the threats the others would face, making her the one to clear the way for her king and his path to ascension.

she is known as the bonecrusher, the blade of lucis. it is an unofficial title and position, but she had become the best of friends with gladio during their years of training in the citadel in their youth and was given those names to match him. when she is not out on independent commissions (thats why you never see her in the main game guys trust me), she is with the guys, aiding them in clearing out daemon infestations and, as previously mentioned, bigger bounties.

for a spy, her methods are ruthless and destructive. she used to be a dragoon, and is very handy with a javelin and her glaives, but prefers to use a warhammer above all else. her strength is rooted in the stubborn belief that she is worth something, and her need to be self-sufficient. she suppresses her own feelings and desires constantly, only becoming more vulnerable after she saw what had happened to ignis after he used the ring of the lucii.

ever since her days of training in the citadel, she had feelings for ignis, which she tried desperately to ignore. they both are extraordinarily avoidant lol. gladio is aware of the years of their weird dance around their desires and each other and slowly pushes them together, which climaxes when ignis goes blind. when eos is shrouded in endless night, jolyne is the one to help ignis grow accustomed to his disability, training with him (especially as he is a dragoon, as she once was) and aiding him on hunts while bringing back light to lucis. they spend much of their free time together while the others drift apart, and have plans to officiate their relationship once noctis returns and the crystal is restored.

she is summoned to angelgard by bahamut and survives his judgement as she had been serving the crown prince and one true king with undying loyalty. she was able to see the light return to lucis once and for all on angelgard, praying to shiva that her friends and her love had survived on the mainland.

the years following noctis' sacrifice, ignis and her work together as a strategist and informant to help rebuild lucis and reform its politics. in their free time, due to the encouragement ignis received from noctis, gladio, and prompto during their last night together, they open up a restaurant named café caelum. they both are big fans of coffee, after all. they eventually have a son named argider noctis scientia.

jolyne, now without her ability to warp, uses her years of political knowledge and leverage to guarantee a future for lucis and her son. when the dust settles, she spends time reconnecting with gladio while working alongside ignis at their café, relishing the peace she had never known.

her name means "god is gracious" & "loyalty & faithfulness," the two tenants that allow her to survive. bahamut spared her life, she follows the teachings of shiva, and never once faltered in her duty to the one true king.

anyway i feel more normal having typed this up lol

actually. ffxv replay & thoughts thread

yes im taking pics of my laptop screen if i use the screensnip button the game windows itself and cant be restored soooo lalala. anyway. what the fuck i didnt know the shitty street artist from altissia had caricatures of other characters LOOOL

[acaiasahi]

✶ be with me ; bang yedam.

synopsis. yedam's lyrics have to mean something, and that something just so happens to be you.

info. fluff. bang yedam x gn! reader. 1,010 words.

warnings. grammatical errors, structural errors, proof read-ish lol, lowercase and smaller text intended!

[ now playing . . . ] be with me by treasure.

the soft breeze flows through your hair, the tree you're frequently sitting under blocking the sun's heat from meeting your skin.

sighing you put your book down and turn your attention to the clear blue sky above you. "everything all right?" you hear yedam ask.

turning your head, you meet his curious gaze. nothing but calmness washing over his features as he continues to wait for your answer. trying to figure what to say, ultimately decided to nod your head.

yedam purses his lips, nodding along slowly before he looks away. "could you by chance help me with this?" he asks you, gesturing to the notebook perched up on his thigh. you quickly scoot closer to him on the picnic blanket before asking to grab the notebook. he lets out a soft hum.

"i've been having a hard time with these lyrics, i'm not sure how to write out the feeling, if that makes sense?" he mutters. you read the lyrics on the paper.

i can't help it,

it seems like the last train already left.

that's very, very nice,

i have no choice but to protect you.

"these are good lyics, damie" you quickly look up at him, he waves you off with a quick 'thanks' before yedam's eyes return back to the scribble-filled notebook.

"what do you want it to be about?" you ask him, eyes still looking at the clouds floating.

"about protecting someone, y'know, someone you love?" he says nonchalantly. finally looking at him, silence consumes you two before breaking out into laughter.

you watch as he throws his head back, hand covering his mouth before clapping. you gently push his arm, "you're so corny!"

through your happy exterior, you couldn't help but wonder who the lyrics were about.

"not to boost your huge ego, but you're really talented." you tell him with a breathy laugh. he nods meekly, a bloom-like hue making it's way onto his cheeks.

picking up the notebook and pencil, "mind if i write something?" you ask. "sure, y/n." he responds back, eyeing you closely.

on a windy night, under the black sky,

i'm worried where you're going.

a full moon rises, on the way home,

the wolves will grab you and go.

be with me.

handing the book back to him, he looks over the words intently. "these are amazing, y/n!" he looks up at you, astonishment written all over his face.

and as he sits there, he thinks the same as you. who were the lyrics for?

now, you're the one blushing and waving his praises off as if he were lying. he lets out a drawn on "eh!" before pushing your arm like you did before.

collapsing onto the blanket, you continue your journey of watching and naming different clouds as they pass you by. unbeknownst to you, yedam watches you intently.

he loves the way your eyes dart from side to side, hands on your stomach, and watching the blue sky above. he loves the way you mutter to yourself and get lost in your thoughts.

"that one kinda looks like a chicken, n-no! maybe a turkey?" you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes to help yourself make out the picture behind your eye-lids.

you feel the space next to be filled as yedam lays close next to you, shoulder to shoulder. "which cloud are you talking about?" he asks, you point up to the one towards the middle.

"that one! do you see it?" you ask, "it looks more like a chicken to me" he says, laugh booming loudly.

turning his head to look at your side profile, he realizes just how breathtaking you are. don't get him wrong, he always thought you, his best friend, were pretty but when he started seeing you as beautiful, it was safe to say that he was an absolute goner.

you sigh dreamily at the fluffy cotton shaped clouds, closing and draping your arm on your eyes upon feeling the soft breeze once more.

yedam wasn't sure what took over him but as he continued to watch you breathe softly, your chest rising up and down, he felt himself have the sudden urge to be even closer to you.

scooting unbelievably closer, he hesitantly intertwines his hand with yours. it was almost like puzzle had gotten unlocked, the way yours fit perfectly in his.

it was like it was meant to be.

removing your forearm from your eyes, you slowly open them while simultaneously lifting your linked hands.

you look at the sight in front of you with a blank face causing yedam to feel like he'd messed up. he quickly made the decision to pull away but before he could, you lift his hand to your mouth, giving it a quick peck before putting it back down.

still looking at you, his face flushes a love-washed tint. your eyes never leave the sky but the blush on your face tells yedam that you're just as big of a mess as he is.

you turn your head to look at him, "you have to be the prettiest boy i've ever met in my entire life," you blurt out to him.

dropping his hand, you cover your mouth. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that, bu-but i'm not lying." you stutter out, watching as the blush only grows wider upon the apples of his cheeks.

"the song's about you, i want to protect you. i love you." he says, watching you closely at the words he's so desperately been wanting to tell you.

hand still on your mouth, your jaw drops at his words. the sudden urge to just hug him being too much to bare. sitting up, yedam follows you in fear for your next words.

you catch him off guard by tackling him in a bear hug. "i love you too, since forever!" you whine out, hugging him tighter as if were going to slip away. he kisses your forehead, nuzzling his head into your hair.

★ treasure taglist. @yogurteume ... @tayhunwoo ... @h4chi ... @enhacolor ... @wonluvrbot ... @byeongsung ... @rutowonz ... @setakdongies ... @ncizen ... @saeromiz ... @kyufilms ... @sunoo-bby ... @dancinginthetaillight ... @sseastar-main ... @seung-scrittore ... @changmin-wrlds

[ 🎧 ] jaydi's notes. sorry for kinda just falling off the face of the earth, i just got super paranoid. i hated that whole ordeal, it made me anxious and i didn't want to continue to feel uneasy on an app that makes me happy. especially when i feel anxiety every day. it sucked, but i'm attempting to chill out and start writing again. thank you for being patient, and i appreciate you all checking in on me. <3

© ACAIASAHI 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

[luvnami]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou​ @amjustagirl​ (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist. 

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet. 

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip.  He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week. 

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?” 

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders. 

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?” 

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward. 

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?” 

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know. 

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow. 

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds. 

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second. 

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to- 

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry. 

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp. 

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants. 

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though. 

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat. 

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat. 

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up. 

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!” 

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch. 

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled. 

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag? 

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold. 

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest. 

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality. 

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.  

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry? 

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked. 

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?” 

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled. 

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it. 

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided. 

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know! 

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable. 

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy. 

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over. 

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff. 

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his. 

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them. 

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully. 

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!” 

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time. 

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together. 

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say. 

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again. 

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies. 

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron. 

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree. 

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved. 

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed. 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes. 

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?” 

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger. 

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order. 

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway. 

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself. 

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!” 

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!” 

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years. 

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight. 

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it. 

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.

[chemicalpink]

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really,  who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

[anyoneseenadam]

sub!azriel but the reader and him aren't together yet and she keep teasing him without knowing until he finally has enough and goes and begs her

Pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

Warnings: smut, sub!az, slight degradation, lotta fluff tho

A/n: so i kinda did the ending of this drunk while watching pulp fiction so if it’s confusing that’s why and I apologise lol

——————————————————————————

He had first met you while training the priestesses. You were a friend of Emerie’s. A fae woman that almost brought him to his knees with a single look.

You had nervously spoken to Cassian about joining in the training and had progressed past his group and into Cassian’s within two weeks.

That was probably for the best.

Besides your original nerves, you had thrown yourself into training - eyes always on him as he spoke and went through moves, moved which you copied with the precision of a ballerina.

He had withered under your kind gaze, soft eyes making him want to fall into you and let you fight away all his fears. And whenever you had spoken to him it was with undivided attention, always listening carefully and providing whatever he needed - whether it was someone to complain to or someone to laugh with.

The night he fell in love with you however was different. He had gone into the library searching for Nesta and found her with Emerie, Gwyn and you, all relaxing in soft clothing.

He had almost fallen over when he saw you in an oversized hoodie with tight shorts and baby pink toenails, your face clean of makeup and still somehow the prettiest he had ever seen.

You had smiled brightly when you saw him, patting the empty space beside you and - unable to deny you - he had come to sit beside you, shivering when you lay your head on his shoulder with your book abandoned in you lap.

As he sat, Gwyn carried on explaining a new concept she had been exploring with her tutor when you spoke up, “But you’re basing that hypothesis presuming the butterfly effect doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head down then, as you sat up, frowning at the loss of contact while Nesta barely hid her smug grin behind her hand as she watched the interaction.

“The butterfly effect?” Gwyn asked, grabbing a notebook as you smiled.

“We’ll you’re talking about fate, saying that everything is predetermined. But the butterfly effect proposes that anything, even something as small as a butterfly flapping it’s wings, can change the whole course of the future and can split reality into different pathways. This creates alternate realities, one were the butterfly flaps it’s wings and one were it doesn’t, and even such a small change is still a change.”

He didn’t really understand your concept but Gwyn was furiously scribbling things down and scoring things out as you continued.

“So yes, there is a large chance that maybe once there was a predetermined set of events, but as things change and as people are born and stray from these paths, there is no feasible way to ensure everything goes exactly as determined.” You spoke with your hands, something he had never noticed before. You explained the concept slowly and clearly to Gwyn as you discussed the topic in depth, your face lighting up as you spoke about the unknown.

He fell in love then, when he watched you speak so enthusiastically about a topic he had no idea about. But even with a lack of knowledge he wanted to hear all about it - wanted to become so well versed in it that one day you might look at him the way he looked at you.

The problem there was that in his love drunk state, subtleties went out the window. You’d had suspicions before but now, with him blatantly staring at you, you were sure.

You had spoken to Nesta about him before and discovered he didn’t have the greatest track record of admitting his feelings so you decided to step it up a notch, ready to bust out all the tools that would make him confess.

You decided to start simple; removing your top during training and continuing in your sports bra, leaving lingering touches on his shoulders or hands, turning on what Emerie lovingly deemed your ‘sex eyes’ when you spoke to him. And it seemed to be working, he started avoiding your gaze and would pause speaking whoever you touched him, subconsciously leaning into your hand or gently laying his head atop your when you placed yours on his shoulder.

It wasn’t for a couple weeks however that you made a startling discovery. You had decided to make some cupcakes and Azriel had run into you in the kitchen - accepting your offer to help. He had been doing an amazing job delicately filling the cases with batter and you smiled when he finished without spilling a drop.

“Ugh perfect! You did amazing Az!” You had exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before opening the over with one hand and balancing the tray in the other.

He had made a sound under his breath and when you turned back you found him bright red and looking down with a shy smile on his face. Then it clicked why your beautiful, strong spy always seemed so nervous around you. He was a sub.

You were ecstatic the rest of the day, having hit the jackpot with Azriel and with a plan forming in your head. He wasn’t likely to admit his feelings to you but you had an idea that would make sure he had them before you did anything else.

The next day you saw him at training, smiling warmly at him as you usually did and hopping over to speak to him before you got started.

“Hey Az, did u get a cupcake last night?” You asked, smiling brightly when he blushed bright red having run off soon after receiving your praise with a half assed excuse about finding Cassian.

“Yeah they were amazing,” he said, finally meeting your eyes as you looked up at him expectantly.

“Ah couldn’t have done it without your help,” you praised and he blushed looking down again. You heard Cassian call your name impatiently and turned to stick your finger up at him, “Gotta go but we should hang out again tonight.”

He nodded with a smile, equal parts delighted and terrified at the idea of spending so much time with you.

“That’s a plan! See you tonight pretty boy,” you said, walking away while he stared dumfounded at your back. That - that was new.

He fumbled his way through training the priestesses, maybe pushing them slightly too hard because it meant he had plenty to do that didn’t involve thinking about you or about what seeing you tonight entailed.

Or that you thought he was pretty.

You on the other hand, couldn’t get through training quickly enough. You were finishing moves and sequences before Cassian even said them so used to his rhythm that he ended up just letting you leave when you were finished before everyone else - not without rolling his eyes dramatically however.

As you walked out Azriel couldn’t help his eyes from following you as you sauntered away with flushed, glowing skin and your hair swaying with every step as you shook it out. You shot a final look over your shoulder as you left to go shower, waving at him when you caught him staring with mischievous eyes.

You left quickly to go shower and get somewhat ready, ensuring you smelt good and pulling on your favourite underwear. You then decided to fuck with him and pulled on an oversized t-shirt that you kept from an ex-boyfriend on account of how soft it was and your smallest, softest shorts. You had finished getting ready and were making yourself an ice coffee when Azriel walked in with flushed cheeks, wiping sweat from his forehead with his shirt.

You whistled when you saw him and his eyes met yours, widening comically when he saw your bare legs - shorts barely visible beneath your large shirt.

“You alright hot stuff?” You asked as he moved to grab some bread from next to you. He inhaled sharply when you spoke and you barely contained your giggle,

“Want an ice coffee babes?”

“Um sure I don’t I-“ he stumbled over his words as his brain slowed trying to form a single thought other than your soft legs and even softer lips.

“I’ll make you one,” you said with a laugh, “so what do you want to do today?”

“I really don’t mind,” he muttered, watching as you mixed the drink for him and pressed it into his hand with a smile.

“What about a spa day, when was the last time you got to relax?”

“Cauldron I don’t think I’ve ever done that,” he joked and you smiled.

“Let’s do that then, I’ll get you so relaxed your bones will liquify,” you grabbed his hand as you pulled him out of the kitchen and started leading him to your room.

“Do- do I want that?” He asked and you squeezed his hand,

“You’ll understand soon,” you laughed.

You started with face masks and manicures, conversation flowing easily between the two of you despite Azriel’s nerves and the electricity that shot through him every time you touched him.

You were sitting reading together a while later when you shoved your book down and turned, your eyes focusing on him. He felt your heated gaze and tilted his head to meet your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked,

“You’re pretty,” you said suddenly, reaching a hand to trace his jaw gently. He went comically red and you smiled.

“What? I- you think I’m,” he stuttered and you giggled, nodding.

“Yeah you’re so pretty,” he could feel himself grow hard, blushing impossibly hard at your words.

“Say it again,” he forced out and you smiled - reaching a hand to rest on his thigh, stroking it gently as you spoke again.

“You’re so pretty, and I’m sure you’d be so good for me would you?” Your voice got lower as you spoke, Azriel whimpering as you slid your hand up his thigh. “Do you want that? Wanna be my good boy?”

Azriel’s eyes widened and his hips bucked up slightly as he nodded, movements small and insecure.

“Words sweet boy, I need you to say you want this,”

“I want this!” He practically shouted and you laughed sweetly,

“I’m so glad baby, I’ve wanted you for so long,” you confessed - stroking his face gently as you moved to straddle him.

“You- you have?” He was confused and feeling a million feelings at once but so happy with the position he found himself in.

“Mhm and if I’m correct I think you have to,” he nodded quickly underneath you, his hands flying up to grab your hips as you started slowly rolling your hips over him.

“I have,” his voice was already so desperate and you had barely touched him, smiling as you leaned down to press kisses gently into his jaw.

“Mm good boy,” you whispered, “would you like me to touch you now?”

He shook his head and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at him with concern filled eyes.

“Wanna touch you instead,” he whimpered out and you cooed stroking his hair.

“Awe baby, go ahead,” you giggled, climbing off his lap as he crawled off your bed and kneeled on the floor - eyes wide as you spread your legs in front of him. He gently removed your shorts and panties, inhaling sharply and your pretty pussy was revealed to him. He looked up at you with his doe eyes, whispering as he silently begged you for permission - but you just smiled and laughed at him with a gentle hand stroking through his hair.

“Please miss I’ll be so good for you, please just wan’make you feel good,” he begged and you relented.

“Okay baby boy,” he swung forward so quickly and buried himself into your pussy, spitting on it before devouring you. His long fingers spread your folds open and he probed your tight hole with his tongue, thumb coming up to rub circles on your clit as he moaned against your heat.

He ate you out like it was his sole purpose in life, putting all he had into the task - almost delirious as he finally got what he had wanted for so long. The days he had spent daydreaming about your soft legs that were now wrapped around his head, the nights he had spent thinking of your pillow lips and how sweet you would sound as you told him what you wanted him to do.

“Oh baby you’re doing so well for me, so good baby. My good boy,” he moaned loudly against your pussy, hips rutting into air.

“M’ yours, all yours,” he cried, pushing two long fingers into your tight pussy and twisting them as he looked up, meeting your eyes as you tangled a hand in his hair.

“Make me come then baby, prove you’re my good boy,” he nodded against you - desperate to make you happy as he worked with renewed vigour. “Azriel baby you’re so good at this.” Your moans were like music to his ears as he scissored his fingers inside you, sucking on your clit hard enough to make you see stars. You swore - hand tightening in his hair - as he pressed into your sweet spot and sucked particularly hard on your clit at the same time, coming hard with an arched back as Azriel stared up at you. Awed at how he had tamed the goddess above him.

You ended up having to pull him off of your pussy as he whined, wet lips pouting as they tried to get back to you.

“No baby no more,” your voice was stern and he whined as you pulled him up to his feet, standing with him and spinning the two of you around.

He was considerably taller than you but even the height difference didn’t negate the power you had over him and when you shoved him down onto the bed and straddled him - kissing him harshly with your fingers squeezing his cheeks together.

“You’re so good baby, so good,” you whispered into his mouth.

“Did I do well?” His voice was so soft that you cooed and kissed him again.

“So, so well that you deserve a reward,” he looked up at you with those hazel eyes you loved so much, “do you want that, want to fuck me?”

“Yes miss, yes please wan’ fuck you so bad. S’all I think about,” you could never resist Azriel and now he was begging, you couldn’t deny him anything.

You reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, choking on a breath at his size. “Fuck baby, you’ve been holding out on me,” your hand moved on its own accord, pumping him slowly - needing two hands to hold him.

He was moaning lowly as you pumped him, precum leaking out the tip and making it easier for you to slip onto him, sinking down until you were fully seated and you could see a faint bulge through your belly.

“God you’re so big baby, filling me up so well.” You moaned as Azriel tried to form a single coherent thought other than how tight and wet you were.

“Do I feel good baby? Do you like having me wrapped around you?” You asked and he simply moaned in reply. You continued bouncing as you waited for a response but when he didn’t reply you slapped his cheek lightly.

“Words Azriel I asked you a question.” Your words were harsh but you spoke with a sickly sweet tone.

“You feel so good, didn’t know you could feel this good. So tight,” he moaned loudly when you clenched down on him, his words making a new gush of wetness coat his cock.

You smiled, drawing a hand over his hair as you bounced in his lap, the strength in your legs only letting you lift yourself halfway up his cock before you’re sinking back down.

“Fuck Az, baby you’re so big,” you whined into his mouth as you kissed him and he responded with a low grunt - his mind and body completely under your control, despite your intentions.

“I’m gonna come miss, please please let me come,” he begged after a few minutes of your hips rolling slowly over his and you laughed, holding him in your arms.

“Awe such a needy baby,” you cooed, “gonna come so early baby, needy slut.”

He whimpered underneath you, hips rutting into you as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise - desperately trying to stop himself from cumming as you were yet to give him explicit permission.

But that was a losing battle as he lost himself in the warmth of your cunt. He was throbbing within you, pulsating as you clenched around him, the sounds your pussy made as he pushed into your body. He was addicted to the small whimpers leaving your mouth and as he watched you move he knew he would never be able to let you go. He had fallen so hard over the short time he had known you and now he watched you take over his body when you had already taken his soul.

“Please can I come miss, please,” his begs were so soft that you nodded, kissing him again.

“Let go for me baby, show me you’re mine,” you commanded and he shook underneath you, coming with a string of curses.

“‘M yours miss, all yours please,” his eyes were teary and voice broken, but he looked so happy as he stared up at you - mouth hanging open in a silent sob.

He reached a hand between you rubbing your clit gently as you came all over his cock with a loud moan and shudder. He guided you through your orgasm, refusing to take his eyes off of you, completely entranced with you.

When you had both come down from your powerful orgasms, you climbed off him and stood to retrieve a wash cloth and to relieve yourself in the bathroom. When you returned Azriel was staring up at you with tired and nervous eyes.

You cleaned him up gently, pressing gentle kisses into his face and lips as you did so.

“You okay baby?” You asked when you were finished, pulling him into your arms as you lay back down - his head on your chest.

“I’m so good right now,” he whispered, propping his chin on your chest and looking up at you, “was that- was I alright?”

His voice was so small and you furrowed your brows, “baby you were so good, perfect.” You promised, stroking his hair and leaning to kiss his head gently.

“Are you sure cause I-“

“Baby,” you cut him off, “you’re all I want, I’ve wanted this for so long and you were so good. Was it good for you?”

He nodded furiously and you laughed as he came up to kiss you, “then we’re all good baby.”

“I think I love you,” he whispered into your mouth and you smiled.

“I think I love you too.”

[peachyysugaa]

sloth and sheep

― yang jungwon x gn!reader

your best friend is acting weird, what seems to be the cause?

genre: fluff, school au, best friends to lovers

warnings: some teasing but it's jungwon what do you expect

wc: 1.3k

a/n: done with my last final! as a gift for being so patient, i wrote this while i was studying and to give myself motivation LOL i'll return with blood castle soon!! ^^

♞──────────────────────────♞

the scribbling of pencils hurriedly rushing to finish their last markings is all you can hear as your teacher counts down. everyone is quickly trying to jot down their final words for the essay.

"3... 2... 1... and stop!" your teacher shouts. some students groan at their inability to finish whereas some let out a sigh of relief. "pencils down, pass your papers to the front please. after that, you're free to go! have a nice summer, everyone!"

you pass your paper to your classmate kim sunoo in front of you. a smile graces his face as he takes it and continues passing the stack. you're packing up your supplies with a steady heartbeat before you hear footsteps approaching. you don't need to look up to know who it is.

"hurry up, y/n!" best friend!yang jungwon whines. you simply roll your eyes at him. the zipper of your pouch is followed by the shuffling of your satchel and the tapping of his feet.

"yah, yang jungwon, don't rush me," you scold.

"i wouldn't have to rush you if you weren't so slow," he continues whining, drawing out the vowels in "so" and "slow."

sighing, you get up and throw your bag over your shoulder.

"finally! i thought i was going to have to leave you!" the brown-haired teenager teases.

"you would never, wonie," you say as you stick your tongue out at him.

"watch me!" jungwon shouts before bolting towards the door and taking off. "last one to get there has to pay for the winner!"

"h-hey!! no fair, you got a head start!" you tell after him, scrambling your feet.

going at his own pace, sunoo shakes his head at the pair of best friends. "ugh, they're so in love it's almost cute."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

you're not able to keep up with jungwon, who could literally run a marathon from his rigorous taekwondo training, so when you reach the shop, you're almost breathless and lucky that the shop is close by the school. the chime of the doorbell welcomes you as you push the door open, the staff greeting you with warm welcomes.

jungwon is already ordering his chocolate ice cream and another one while you hurriedly find your wallet. surprisingly though, he nonchalantly hands a cone over to you with your favorite ice cream flavor and pays for it himself.

"but i thought you said...?" you stiffly mumble out.

"your ice cream is melting, slowpoke," he simply states. your eyes widen as you quickly go to lick the sugary liquid before it can drip onto your hand. he's calmly watching you in amusement while enjoying his own dessert. "let's walk back, yeah?"

you're curious as to where his energy went, he's usually more playful with you, but you follow him out the store nonetheless. "sure, just tell me why you're acting so weird, wonie."

as the two of you start walking back on the road home, it's oddly silent. usually your way home (a/n: haha txt song) is filled with laughter and inside jokes, so the silence is extremely uncomfortable and feels much longer than the 3 minutes it actually is.

"alright, yang jungwon, you've been way too quiet. what are you planning, you sneaky bunny?" you give in, making a stop in your tracks. the streets are quiet as the sun begins to set and the once-in-a-while car whooshes past. he turns around with his wide doe eyes staring back at you rather earnestly.

"wh-why are you looking at me like that?" you unconsciously stammer out. jungwon suddenly takes a few steps closer, making you walk backwards into a wall. his hand come forward and encases you between the wall and his body. you can't help but take in the scent of detergent that surrounds you when he traps you, his brown hair that reminds you of a chocoball, and his eyes staring back at you. "w-what—"

you're cut off by a pair of fingers flicking your forehead before you're holding it in response to the pain. "ow! what was that for?!"

"you're keeping us from getting home! i want to watch movies, but you're being slow, y/n," he states before releasing you and walking briskly towards your shared street. "hurry up, or you're not sleeping over tonight."

"h-hey! you can't do that! it's our tradition to do ice cream and movies on the last day of finals!" you scold, rushing after him. when you catch up, you latch onto his back, jungwon's reflexes immediately kicking in and catching you and your legs as your limbs wrap around him. "if you're going to call me slow, i'll just hang on you like a sloth!"

the teenage boy laughs joyfully. "you already were one! sloth y/n, sloth y/n," he chants.

"i'll approve of this sloth y/n agenda only because you're carrying me like you're my moving branch."

"sure, sure. that's my new contact name for you, by the way."

"huh? what was it before?" you ask. you tilt your head forward to rest on his shoulder. the scent of coconut from his conditioner fills your nose as you do so.

"just dummy," he replies coolly. "what's yours for me?"

"first of all, i'm not a dummy," you pout. "second, remember that time you dressed up as a sheep for student council?"

"nooo!" he groans out as if he knows what's coming.

"yess! it's sheep garden to match your contact picture," you tease.

"then i'll dress you like a sloth to match your nickname."

"i thought you had most of our shared brain cells, wonie. sloths are too hairy to dress up as."

"not my problem, get hairy then." you slap his back as his reply. "yah! i'll file best friend abuse against you!"

"go ahead, no one else will deal with your whiny heinie."

"i'm dropping you because you said that."

you gasp. "you wouldn't."

a smirk appears on his face before he says, "try me." and he does it, making you yelp as he lets you fall to your butt on the grassy lawn of his house. "who's a whiny heinie now? pay the uber fees, sloth."

"yea, i'll pay alright," you mumble.

he doesn't catch it and looks at you curiously. "sorry, what d—whoa!!"

as he's talking, you pull his arm and cause him to come down to the ground with you, except the plan didn't end much like how you intended. you definitely didn't intend to be in a compromising position with jungwon hovering over you and trapping you like he had done earlier.

once again, your eyes are locked with his seas of dark brown, searching for some kind of sign, some kind of reason to act on the skyrocketing pulse of your heartbeat. you're too caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear him say, "you know what? screw it."

when his lips press against yours, you only have a few moments to realize and return the press before he's pulling away.

"wonie..." you breathe out. breathless is all that can describe you as your brain wraps around the fact that not only did you have your first kiss, but your first kiss was with yang jungwon, your best friend and crush. the two of you start to sit up, not really saying anything else with your legs intertwined.

it's him who breaks the silence. "i like you, y/n."

and it's you who reached forward to pull him into a hug. he's frozen as your arms take place around his neck and your lips go towards his ear to whisper, "i like you too, jungwonie."

his cheerful giggles that you've come to love and adore erupt out as he wraps his arms around you. knowing the two of you liked each other didn't change the way you acted together, but it made the time you two spent together even more special, now that you can hold hands and rub circles or cuddle while watching movies: doing the same traditions felt brand new.

[sageinacage]

Hellooo I saw you were taking requests again!! :D Would you be alright doing a bit of a hurt/comfort ish playful fic like Tommy asking techno to help train him. Techno notices that tommy starts to completely overwork himself and comforts him about like not feeling good enough to be techno's brother and techno playfully tickling him to force him to take a break? I'm sorry if this was a long prompt, it's 4am lol... Thank you so much!! :D

summary: tommy wants to be as strong as his brother techno, but doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to a/n: sorry i haven’t been active this weekend :[ im on the last 3 weeks of school and they’re piling so much stuff WAAAH warnings: swearing, self consciousness, self doubt (this is a hurt/comfort fic!) w/c: 1.6k

DSMP

~

“Techno, how did you get to be so… strong?”

“Hard work, Tommy. A lotta’ hard work.”

Tommy huffed, crossing his arms. That was definitely not the answer he wanted, because the boy wanted to be a force to be reckoned with now. “Well… what kind of hard work?” He egged on, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Well, experience is a big one- I’ve done a lot of fighting and gained a lot of perspective from that… uhhhh… I study books with ancient techniques? I uhhh, let me put some thought into this, kid,”

Techno continued to think, putting a hand to his chin in thought. None of these Tommy liked, as they both took much time, perseverance, and he was just too young to have had as much experience as his brother. “Oh, I’ve trained a lot-”

“Aha! Training! How do I train?” Tommy cheered, almost leaping with how excited he got. The boy assumed he would be able to be unstoppable after one training session, but his older brother didn’t know how to convey that it wasn’t possible- but also didn’t want to crush his spirits at the same time.

“Tommy,” Techno started, then let out a long sigh, “..it’s not that easy. I’d be willing to help but-”

“Let’s go now then, big man!” The blonde exclaimed triumphantly, marching towards the entrance to their house’s backyard. Techno watched him stomp out the room towards the back exit, shaking his head and following the boy.

When he arrived outside, Tommy was already in a set of armor with his sword out, grinning madly at Techno. With an amused huff, the piglin picked up his sword and stood a good distance from in front of him.

“Alright, the first thing is stance. Make sure you’re standing so you’ll be able to block on any side of you.” Techno placed his sword down, heading to Tommy. He gently moved his arms and shoulders to be in a preferred position. The boy stood there, completely stiff like a statue.

“Y’know you gotta loosen up, you need to be able to block and dodge attacks and can’t do that when you’re stone.”

“I gotta be like stone, so I can’t be knocked down!”

Techno shook his head, pushing his hand into Tommy’s side, making him fall on the grass. “That wasn’t fair!” Tommy whined, getting up and brushing the dirt off of his light armor. “All is fair in fights, kid. You never know what your opponent will do.” The piglin explained, pushing up his glasses.

Tommy muttered something under his breath, getting into the fighting stance his brother showed him. “I’m ready!” He announced, Tech sighing. “Tommy, you need to know the basics before going into battle.” He frowned, crossing his arms. “There are no basics in war!” Tommy rebuttals, using the phrase Techno used earlier against him.

“Actually there is-”

“I didn’t ask!” Tommy ran at Techno, falling onto the dirt as the man stepped to the side. “You don’t just run at someone and expect to get a hit on them, smartass.” He playfully flicked his brother’s head, who grumbled and got up, trying to get more hits on Techno.

The piglin continued to step out of the way, eventually sighing and easily disarming him from his blunt training sword.

“Tommy-”

“I can’t do it! How can I even be your brother?! I can barely even hold the sword, it's so heavy! I’m done with this, I’ll never be as strong as you!” Tommy fumed, throwing his armor off and stomping inside the house to go up to his room. Techno put his training sword away, sighing softly. ‘The kid has potential, he just gets ahead of himself.’ Techno thought, then heading inside to go upstairs to check up on his little brother.

“Can I come in?” He knocked on the door, hearing a small ‘no’ from inside. Techno huffed. “Please? I want to talk to you, Toms.” He asked again, then hearing nothing. “Fine.” Tommy gave him permission to come in, which Techno gladly took.

“Hey,” His brother sat at the foot of his bed, looking at him. “You’re just so cool. You’re Technoblade, everyone knows you as strong and scary. And… and I’m just Tommy. The little brother, the obnoxious one.” He ranted, sniffling softly as he curled his knees in and hiding his face.

“I wouldn’t say that, Tommy. I’ve heard people talk about how brave you are, which I’m gonna have to agree with. Also, you’re not obnoxious, I wouldn’t want to hang out with you if you were.” Techno showed him a small smile, opening his arms. Tommy leaped into them, wrapping his arms around his brother and holding his cape with an iron grip.

“Really? People think that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that, kid.”

“I am pretty brave and cool, I gotta say,” Tommy chuckled softly at himself, his giggles slowly growing as Techno sighed at him. “Oh, I’ll give you something to laugh about!” He exclaimed playfully, his dull claws shifting around his waist.

“TEHehehechno!” Tommy made the poor mistake of shifting onto his back, so now he was just sprawled across his brother’s lap, stuck in his tickly grasp. “Tommy!” Techno playfully mocked, snickering at Tommy’s small growl in defiance.

“You’re really brave to try to rebuttal my attack, ain'tcha?” He spoke lowly, slipping one of his hands under Tommy’s loose shirt to lightly scratch at the sensitive skin around his belly. “Yohou suhUHUCK!” He complained, kicking his legs out in front of him. “What did you just say to me? You really are fearless.”

The boy was about to smile triumphantly until a blunt claw gently scritched over the bundle of nerves over his hip bone. “SHIHIHIT- Nohot thahahat!” Tommy complained. “Sohomewhehere else!”

“Y’know Tommy, when I tickle Ranboo right here he’d dip out right away. You must be tough if you can withstand this!” Techno praised, a fond smile washing over his face. Tommy continued to shake his head, the ticklish sensations making him tingle all over.

“Hmmm, let’s see if I could make you break. Highly doubt it for how well you’re taking it though, kid.” He chortled before laying Tommy down and skittering both his fingers up his sides. “IT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!” He arched his back, a wheeze escaping him. The claws continued to explore up his sides, dragging back down before stopping at his upper ribs to scribble over the ticklish skin there.

“WHIHIHIYYY?!” Tommy whined, slamming his arms down. “Because!” Techno smirked, drilling his fingers as they were trapped and he couldn’t wiggle them anymore. “THAHAHAT’S WOHOHORSE!” He screeched, the piglin just laughing. “Then free me, smarty!” His fingers continued to drill and prod as much as they could, shifting up to reach his underarms.

“NOHOHO! IT’LL BEHE EVEN WOHOHORSE!” Tommy grumbled, kicking his legs. “Good observation, Tommy! Never let your enemy get an advantage!” His brother praised again, smiling down at him. The grumpiness in the boy’s tone turned more gleeful, the pinkette grunting in success.

“But what if the enemy planned a surprise attack?!” Techno exclaimed, leaning his head down to blow a raspberry over the upper part of his tummy, repeating the action but on his navel next time. “I WIHILL SUHUHURVIVE!” Tommy retorted, trying to push at his head. “I’d like to see you try.” He challenged, lifting his shirt a small bit before leaning down to place nibbles along his lower belly and around his hips.

“FUHUHUCK! TEHEHECHNOHO!” He threw his head back, still holding onto Techno’s hair but not really pushing him away. Techno was genuinely surprised- usually, his nibbles can kill anyone and make them plead for mercy. “Wow Tommy, you can withstand my nibbles? You must really be a champ, huh kid?” He complimented, smiling at Tommy’s giddy squeal.

Techno knew how much Tommy needed this, he needed to hear how actually brave and tough he was, because the truth was the kid was strong, just needed to hear it to believe it. “You were able to survive that, but can you survive this?” He devilishly smiled, moving his claws over to scritch at his lower tummy as he nibbled up his sides.

“YOHOHOU’RE HOHORRIBLE!” Tommy shrieked, kicking his legs and arching his back, but still wasn’t begging for mercy like Techno thought he would. “Able to survive again? This is like the hardest time I’ve had tiring someone out, Toms.” Techno admitted, Tommy giggling and happily chortling in response. He was genuinely proud of himself, feeling stronger than ever.

“Alright. I give up.” Techno chuckled, pulling his brother in for a hug while he calmed down. “I wohohon!” Tommy announced excitedly, hugging him back. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” The piglin sighed contently, pulling away.

“You know Tommy, being strong is more than just physical strength. You gotta have the right mindset, and you’ve definitely got it. I’ve never met someone as strong-willed, enthusiastic, and brave as you.” Techno explained, rubbing his stomach and side area, trying to help with the after-tickles.

“Reheally?”

“Yeah, really.” Techno chuckled, getting up. “How about I teach you a lesson in some historic techniques in fighting, I think you’ll find it interesting.”

“Books are so boring- ugh, fine.” Tommy crossed his arms, standing up and stretching, before following his brother out of the room. “What were you boys doing?! I thought Tommy was being attacked for a hot minute.” Phil laughed from the kitchen, seeing them walk by. “I beat Techno in a tickle fight, that’s what happened!” Tommy laughed, nudging his brother.

“Yep. He beat me. Strong kid, I tell ‘ya.”

[yoichichi]

To Call You Mine

college!tsuki x reader series

Ch. 1 - study buddies

warning(s): swearing, early early mornings 😵‍💫, second hand embarrassment LOL

a/n: ahhhhh!! Here’s chapter one of my first series!! I have the masterlist and details linked above but for some quick info: this is a college!au multi chapter fic about tsuki and the reader :) if you’d like to be added to the taglist let me know!! And as always I really appreciate your thoughts and comments n all that :) my inbox is always open!!! Enjoy <3 psps - don’t forget to check out the playlist linked above hhehehe

You’re not sure what woke you first; your alarm, the pain shooting up your back from the stiff cot your university has the audacity to refer to as a “bed”, or your own sour attitude from having to be up so early.

Five am. Five am. It takes a certain kind of sick and twisted individual to suggest meeting up to study at five in the morning. Although, you have to admit, it does take a different kind of person to actually agree to those terms.

Why, why, why, why, why.

Is the mantra you chant to yourself while you mindlessly dress and pack your bag, not even bothering to snatch a power bar from your nightstand for breakfast. Water will have to do.

You make an effort to click the door shut behind you quietly, not wanting to wake up your more than sweet dorm mate who’d surely be focusing on being just as careful as you were right now.

“Oh my gosh, don’t you have that study date in the morning sweetie? You should be sleeping right now.” Bonnie, said dorm mate, leans over the back of your desk chair to peer down at the page of your calculus ll textbook you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes. Concern is evident in her voice and her body language as she brings up a hand to gingerly rub your shoulder, hoping her small sideways smile will give you a sense of comfort. Or maybe even convince you to give it, and yourself, a rest.

“I know, I know. I just want to be prepared is all. I’m already dropping past a C at the speed of light and I’m sure my professor thinks I’m an idiot, hence him actually setting me up with a tutor, and I don’t need this guy to think I’m one too.” Your head falls in your hands at the end of your sentence, a dramatic groan feeling needed to really emphasize your point, too.

“Okay, just head to bed soon.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head before crawling into her own bed, using a storage container to prop herself onto it properly. She almost made you homesick with the way she doted on you like she was your mother.

You looked over and tapped the screen of your phone to see it read 9:14, not too late. You could reasonably cram in one more lesson.

You scoffed at yourself with the door fully shut and locked. You should’ve listened to Bonnie when you had the chance, it was just past midnight when you finally tore yourself away from last weeks review and decided to get ready for bed. Barely even four hours later and you’re up and getting ready to look at it all again.

You could at least appreciate how quiet the dorm hall was this ea-

“Mornin’, you!”

You internally banged your head against the wall at the bright voice that came towards you with such heavy and loud footsteps, how can someone’s footsteps manage to be so loud on carpet?

You substituted a hello with a gentle smile and wave as your R.A., who definitely didn’t remember your name - which is fine cause you didn’t remember theirs either, rushed past you.

Sighing deeply, you left the warm confines of the dorm building and stepped into the cold and brisk morning, starting your trek to the library.

He couldn’t have even chose a coffee place or something?

You had some, thoughts, about this guy. You didn’t know much about him, only two things.

One, his name: Tsukishima Kei.

Two, he was a good enough student to be assigned to you as a tutor.

You swallowed your slight embarrassment at the thought of your professor reaching out to someone on your behalf and instead chose to focus more on how weird this guy has to be.

Waking up before the sun rises on a Sunday was not something you looked forward to, you don’t think anybody would truly; especially to meet someone for the first time; yet this guy thinks it’s a great idea. So much so he didn’t even think to ask first, just tell you when and where to meet.

Thursday 4:14 pm

- ‘It’s Tsukishima. See you at 5 in the library this sunday.’

- ‘Oh hi!! Oh ok, am or pm?? lol’

Thursday 7:43 pm

- ‘am.’

- ‘Ok cool, see ya then!’

And that was it. Neither of you have texted since, which was three days ago on a Thursday afternoon. It kind of bothered you really, I mean, what kind of self righteous ass-

You took a deep breath and chose to think happy thoughts instead. You’d much rather be in a somewhat pleasant mood when you meet this guy than have some grudge against a stranger. And he probably talks different than he texts, right? You’re sure he didn’t mean to sound like a complete jerk.

You shook your head as if you were shaking away your thoughts as you started to walk along the path to the library. It was a fairly nice walk, about five minutes, and being alone was kind of peaceful on the way there this early.

Your feet shuffled only slightly on the cold concrete surprisingly enough considering the way your fatigue was starting to creep into your joints - but surely the cold wasn’t helping.

It was that kind of morning cold that stung your nostrils when you breathed in and tickled your cheeks and ears. It made your hands clench and unclench in your coat pockets, debating whether or not it’d be worth it to pull the cold metal of your jacket zipper just a centimeter higher in hopes of keeping your neck warmer. The morning fog leaving droplets on the synthetic material of your coat, making it squeak awfully when you moved your arms. And there was the dew on the grass that’d cling onto the tops of your shoe when you had to walk through it.

But the way the old fashioned light posts lit your walk and illuminated the fog kind of made your slight discomfort worth it. And by the time you reached the tall brick library, you could almost say you were in a pleasant mood, almost. And then you remembered why you were here.

You took one final deep breath as you reached the heavy doors of the university library. It was a grand sight really.

The building had its own separate spot on campus, towering at about four stories high, which although didn’t sound ginormous, it definitely felt that way when you had to climb those stairs to the top floor for a book you really didn’t even want. The brick with the foliage creeping up the sides to cover some of the lower windows even gave it an almost magic feeling when you took it in from the outside, it’s too bad that sense of wonder couldn’t be mirrored on the inside.

It was too quiet, especially this early, it smelt almost stale, and everything seemed to have a layer of dust no matter how new a book was. And the bathrooms? Old. Most stalls didn’t even have usable locks at this point. It’s arguably all apart of the charm of such an old building, but it’s not as charming when you have to reach out to keep the stall door closed with your fingertips just to use the restroom. And the water from the sink that never seems to get warm enough when you wash your hands doesn’t help either. Yet the water fountains are always too warm curiously enough.

You made little to no noise besides the occasional rustling of your jacket and squeaking of your shoes as they padded across the dingy off-colored carpet towards the back of the first floor.

There were various sizes of tables spread out throughout the space, few actually matching in color or style. The chairs varied less - but you could still find the oddball desk chair, or the chair with the wooden frame just a tad to wide to feel like a normal seat but just as evenly too small to be a bench.

Your heavy eyes surveyed the dimly lit space in hopes of finding any sign of human life when you finally noticed a backpack haphazardly tossed onto a table, still zipped open. Pens were splayed across the table with a single notebook, scribbles scrawled across the pages too far from you to be read. Not seeing anyone occupying the seat pulled away from the tables edge, you took out your phone to take a peek at the time.

4:58 am

Wow, I’m early?

Shoving your phone back into your pocket you began to make your way towards the (un)occupied table, debating whether a seat closer or farther would be more polite.

If I sit too close that’ll definitely be-

“Hey.”

You felt your shoulders hunch up to your ears and a small gasp leave your mouth at the way the voice behind you so suddenly interrupted your train of thought.

You turned around to come face to face with the voice.

“Are you (y/n)?”

Damn. He’s kinda tall.

Kind of was certainly an understatement. God he was definitely above 6 feet, 6’2” maybe? No, maybe even a little taller.

A single earbud was still in his ear as the other hung down and rested against his chest. He took the time to take the other out and wrap the cord gently around his middle and index finger before shoving it into his coat pocket, presumably the same one with his phone, in an effort to prevent them from getting tangled most likely. He took a deep breath and eyed you up and down before chuckling softly to himself.

“Okay.”

The tall man, who you’re now beginning to realize is Tsukishima, gives you a quizzical stare with a quirked eyebrow as he looks you up and down one last time, definitely judging you and your silence at this point, before turning around and making his way to a table.

Well it’s a good thing he stopped you before you sat at some other strangers table. You don’t think your heart could’ve taken that today.

You watched his back as he made his way towards a table farther into the back, closer to a window peering out onto the foggy and barely illuminated field.

Oh shit

“Oh, sorry!” You clear your throat and begin again, your own sudden volume startling yourself for a moment, as you double your pace to catch up and walk beside him towards a table,

“Um, yeah. Sorry, it’s a little early, brain hasn’t woke all the way up.”

Silence.

At the lack of a response, you decide to awkwardly laugh rather than wallow at the fact he didn’t even give a pity chuckle at your bad attempt at a polite joke to ease the seemingly tense vibe between the two of you.

Okay, well he definitely seems to talk the way he texts.

Clearing your throat again, you tried once more.

“I’m (y/n) by the way, it’s nice to m-“

“I know your name.” He stopped at the table and turned to glance down at you over his shoulder, the tiniest of smirks resting on his face with raised eyebrows, before pulling out a seat to sit in.

Yeah, maybe being quiet for a bit would do you some good. You’ll try again later.

Still trying to shake the embarrassment, no humiliation at this point, you busied yourself with taking out all the proper materials and waiting while he did the same. Sitting patiently opposite of Tsukishima, you decided to finally get a good look at him. Take in what you see and make some judgements.

He shook off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair, showing you his wide shoulders underneath the simple grey t-shirt he wore. You didn’t fail to notice how the sleeves were cuffed, either.

Hm. Nice look.

Points for Tsukishima.

His hands and ears were slightly pink from the weather outside, contrastingly sweet against the paleness of his skin.

Kinda cute, in like a Keebler elf kind of way.

More points, you guess, for Tsukishima.

He sighed as he opened up the calculus ll textbook, adjusting his glasses with long and slender fingers before flipping through the pages. You decided it’d be best to do the same.

It was quiet for a moment too long when you thought it might be a good idea to try and speak again, but apparently he must’ve had the same idea.

“So, why d-“

“Thanks for-“

Cutting each other off, you pursed your lips as he gave you some emotionless stare, one of you waiting for the other to start back up again.

Andddd, another awkward beat of silence.

Jesus, this was gonna be the longest hour of your life.

—————————

AHHHHH HERES CHAPTER ONE - I promise the next one will be full of tsuki and tsuki content ok, I just had to get the ball rolling and really wanted to post smth!! I hope you guys like and please please leave your thoughts or anything in my ask box or anywhere!! I’d love to talk :D MWAH I also have little footnotes in my tags too :) (more like commentary but yeah)

taglist for series: @plutowrites @c0rncheez @ruetaro @daniagabriela48 @toyas-wife @devilkou @anime-and-kpop-trash (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know! And if ur crossed off tagging didn’t work!)

[intheticklecloset]

The Cure for Insecure (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

Please don’t pass out, lol. I originally wrote these two prompts separately, intending for them to stand on their own. But the subject matter was so similar and the lee in question was the same, so I decided to combine them. I think it worked out really well. Enjoy!

~

Hinata was able to chalk up the first couple of sniffles to someone having an itchy nose in their sleep or something ordinary like that. But by the time the fourth and fifth ones rolled around, he sensed something was off. He rolled over to where Yamaguchi was lying beside him, surprised to see that Nishinoya – who was on the other side of his fellow first-year – was in the process of propping himself up. Even in the darkness Hinata could tell he was concerned, so he sat up, too.

Noya glanced at him, frowned, and shook his head slightly. Hinata frowned back and scooted forward, trying to get a better look at their friend’s face, but it was difficult when it was dark in here and he was faced away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered, trying not to wake their other teammates. “Yamaguchi?”

The sniffles stopped, but Tadashi at least had the decency to admit he was awake. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” There was a bit of a pause that spoke more volumes than his words did. “I’m fine.”

“Are you crying?”

Yamaguchi quickly swiped at his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

So you’re not fine, Hinata thought, pushing his blanket to the side and scooting further forward.

Noya spoke up next, also in a whisper. “Do you want to talk about it? We can go outside if you want.”

“It’s late,” Tadashi countered.

“So? I don’t mind. Do you, Hinata?”

“Nope,” Hinata replied.

“No, it’s…it’s okay, really.” Yamaguchi finally turned his face to look at them both as best he could manage in the darkness. “I’m just a little…I don’t know. Overwhelmed, I guess.”

“By what?” asked Noya.

“Everyone.” Tadashi curled up on himself under his blanket. “You guys are all just so amazing out on the court, and I’m—”

“Also amazing,” Noya interjected quickly, firmly.

“Yeah!” Hinata struggled to keep his voice down. “Your serves are way better than mine. That’s why Coach has you pinch serve for me, remember?”

“But…” Yamaguchi’s voice sounded tiny, even while whispering. “That’s all I’m good at.”

“If that’s all you were good at, Coach wouldn’t even let you on the court at all,” Noya said. “Serving is what you’re best at, but that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing you can do well. Plus, you’re a first-year. You’ve got so much time to improve it’s almost unfair. You’re doing great, dude. Don’t tell yourself you’re anything less than awesome. Okay?”

Tadashi sighed, pulling his blanket up to his chin. “I guess.”

Hinata couldn’t help but notice that by pulling his blanket up, his friend had left one of his feet exposed. He grinned, seizing the moment before really thinking it through. He reached down to scribble his fingers along the bare sole. “Cheer up, Tadashi!”

Yamaguchi gasped and yanked his foot away, rolling over to face him. “Don’t do that,” he whispered frantically. “I’ll wake everyone up.”

If anything, that only encouraged Hinata to do it again. Beaming, he grabbed the base of his friend’s blanket and pushed it away, latching onto his ankle and tickling his foot again. Yamaguchi jerked, trying to use his other foot to kick him off, but then Noya decided he wanted in on the fun and started gently digging into his sides.

“No, s-stop!” Tadashi pleaded, giggling as softly as he could manage. “P-Please, I c-can’t keep q-q-quiet like t-this!”

“We just want to see you smile,” Noya teased. “Come on, man, stop being so hard on yourself. You’re awesome!”

“S-Stop! N-Noya, Hinata, p-plehehease!” Tadashi slapped both hands over his mouth to muffle himself before he got any louder, but kept kicking at Hinata as much as possible while rolling around on his bedroll helplessly.

Noya and Hinata grinned at each other in the darkness, keeping up their gentle tickling for another minute before deciding to show mercy, allowing Yamaguchi to catch his breath. The uncontrollable smile on his face was reward enough for their efforts.

“Feeling better?” Hinata asked.

Tadashi let out a couple of leftover chuckles. “Y-Yeah…actually, yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Noya nudged him gently, then lay back down. “Take it easy, okay? Get some sleep. We’ll need you tomorrow.”

Hinata also settled back into his own bedroll, while Tadashi rearranged his blanket and snuggled up in the fetal position, still smiling, feeling leagues better. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for tomorrow to get here so he could play more volleyball with his friends.

*

“I heard you, you know,” Tsukishima said.

Yamaguchi looked at him, confused. “What?”

“That night at training camp. I heard you.”

“Oh.” Tadashi blushed, glancing away. “I’m sorry. I was trying to keep it down, but it was kind of hard with them both tickling me like that.”

“I meant I heard you crying.” Tsuki frowned. “I didn’t care about the other stuff. It was actually a relief after I’d been worrying about you.”

Tadashi opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t know what to say, so closed it again. He glanced around the gym nervously. They’d gotten back from the training camp yesterday, so today’s practice had been a little easier. Everyone was getting ready to head out for the night – save for Hinata and Kageyama, of course. Yamaguchi had met up with Tsuki as per usual, and now they were having this conversation by the gym doors, ready to leave but not going anywhere.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered at last. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry, least of all you. I was just having a rough night.”

“You played better the next day, though,” Tsuki observed, glancing at him in his trademark, critical way.

Yamaguchi suddenly felt like he was on trial. He hurried out the doors into the cool night air. “Come on.”

“Why is that, Tadashi?” his blonde friend continued, following right behind him. “You’ve been encouraged before and never done that much better the next time you played. I assume they were encouraging you.”

“Yeah,” Tadashi murmured. “So what?”

“The only different factor was that they tickled you.”

“So what?” All of a sudden Tadashi felt Tsuki grab onto his shoulders and turn him around, gazing intently down at him, mouth set in a firm line. Yamaguchi wanted to be literally anywhere else. “L-Let go of me.”

“So,” Tsuki said, ignoring him, “the logical conclusion to my observations is that you played better because they tickled you. Is that right?”

Yamaguchi felt so cornered he went into panic mode and did something he almost never did, especially to Tsukishima. He shoved him away and started yelling at him. “So what, Tsuki? What does it matter? You make it sound like it’s such a crime that it made me feel better! Leave me alone, already! So I’ve got insecurities and their messing with me like that made them go away for a while. Who cares?”

Tsuki straightened. “I care.”

Tadashi hated this feeling of being trapped in a conversation in which he was being made to feel like he was in the wrong, so he turned and started walking away again.

Again, Tsuki followed him. “Do you like it? Being tickled?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Tadashi felt close to tears, and he hated that even more. Why was he so bothered by this? “It just…it helps me forget for a while, that’s all. I like forgetting.”

“Would it help if I started tickling you?”

That made him panic even more than he had earlier. Tadashi whirled on him, glaring up at him through the first tears. “Stop teasing me about this! It’s not funny. You’re making me freak out. Like I don’t already feel like such a child about this as it is. Just leave me alone!”

Something in Tsukishima’s features changed then. They grew a little less intense, a little less critical. He paused, then reached forward and dug his fingers into Tadashi’s sides.

“Ah! No! Nonono, wait!” Yamaguchi sputtered, trying to back away, but Tsuki followed his movements and after a moment the smaller teen found himself pinned against the outside wall of the gym, trapped for real this time. A few panicked giggles escaped him. “Tsuki, nohohoho!”

“You said this helps with your insecurities, right?” Tsuki asked. “Well, I don’t want you to be insecure talking to me about this. So let’s take that out of the equation.”

“P-Plehehehease, wait!” Tadashi snickered, squirming against the wall. “Tsuki!”

“I don’t think you’re being a child,” the blonde said, as serious as always. “If this is what helps you, then I want to use it.”

The fact that his closest friend was being his normal, honest, straightforward self even in the midst of this silly activity told Yamaguchi he was being serious about it, despite the subject matter. And that finally allowed him to give up and let the gentle tickling work its magic on him, taking his insecurities about everything and evaporating them into the night air.

When he’d tickled for a couple of minutes and it didn’t seem that Tadashi was fighting him or the activity itself any longer, Tsuki gradually slowed to a stop, inwardly marveling at how his friend’s smile seemed plastered to his face at this point. “So,” he asked, “would it help if I started tickling you?”

Tadashi blushed, averting his eyes, but still smiling. “I-I mean…maybe?”

“Do you feel better now than you did a couple of minutes ago?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Tsuki finally allowed himself to smile in return, both to make his friend feel more at ease and because this whole situation was amusing to him. “Okay. Then I’m putting this at the top of my list of ways to make you feel better. Sound good?”

Yamaguchi finally met his eyes again, surprised, and the relief and excitement was clear in his voice when he spoke. “R-Really?”

“Really.” Tsuki considered a moment, then smirked and grabbed Tadashi again, resuming his gentle, ticklish assault, satisfied when his friend started giggling once more, brighter and freer than the first time. “I’m not usually a fan of tickling in general, but being tickled looks good on you, so I think I can make an exception here.”

Tadashi whined. “Dohohohon’t tease me!”

Tsuki chuckled. “Don’t tease you? Please.” He started scribbling wildly all over his friend’s torso, enjoying the squealing laughter he got in response. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

[tickly-trashcan]

Endurance Training {Todoroki x Reader}

A/N: i got your other asks, I hope I did okay with this request! chatting a little bit in the server helped a lot, so I hope I got an okay amount of what you wanted in here. I couldn’t help myself and slipped a little joke in with the code, and i feel like the game i came up with was a bit silly lol but i still hope you enjoy this one!

Summary: Class 1-A is participating in a new training exercise, and you end up paired with Todoroki. You’re determined to win the training exercise, and you’ll go to any means necessary.

Word Count: 2.5k (under the cut)

It was a relatively normal day. Or rather, as normal as a day could get in a world that you lived in, one where almost the entire population had unique superpowers called Quirks. You had a rather powerful quirk yourself, and so you decided to enroll in a Hero School, UA specifically. When you got in and were put in Class 1-A, however, you met someone who you had never expected to see again.

“Shoto?” You gasped when you had finally seen that red and white-haired boy once more, a person you hadn’t seen in what was now years.

You had known him during your childhood, you two were rather close until his father had forbidden you from seeing each other for whatever reason. You hadn’t seen him since then, but you had never forgotten about the shy boy.

He said your name barely above a whisper as he saw you, eyes wide. Everyone in the classroom looked at you two in confusion as you ran at Todoroki, giving him a quick hug and saying how happy you were to see him. He seemed a bit embarrassed, his face red, but he hugged you back anyway. He was still just as shy and reserved as he was when you had first met him.

After that, you two had acted rather normal around each other, catching up with each other after the long absence between the two of you. You sat together at lunch, walked together in the halls, and easily rekindled your friendship.

A few months into training at UA, having gotten your provisional licenses and encountered the League of Villains, you felt much stronger and more confident. Todoroki said he felt the same, and the two of you walked to class together from the dorms, where conveniently the two of you were right next door to each other.

You sat down in your seat behind Midoriya, Todoroki sitting further up front. It was probably one of the only times the two of you were separated from each other, and you could still find yourself staring at him.

Aizawa walked in, dropping some papers on his little stand at the front of the room as he addressed the class.

“Today we’ll be working on a special training exercise in Ground Omega. You’ll all be paired up with a partner, but you won’t be working together.”

The class murmured. Normally when students were paired up they would be working against other pairs, not each other, so this was a bit odd. Aizawa continued.

“This exercise will be testing your tracking ability, tactical skills, Quirk usage, and hopefully increase your resistance to torture.”

The classes murmurs went silent at the mention of torture. While it had been talked about in their classes since all heroes were at the risk of being captured and tortured, they had yet to experience anything like it. Aizawa noticed the looks on the students faces and quickly adjusted his speech.

“When I say torture I don’t mean anything serious, just try to interrogate your person in a harmless way. I’ve already assigned who will be who and which person you’re partnered with, I’ve made sure it’s at least decently fair.”

He went down the list, naming people such as Kaminari and Bakugo or Kirishima and Koda. He finally got to the bottom of the list, talking just as bored as he was with the other ones that you and Todoroki were paired, with Todoroki being on the receiving end. Todoroki turned in his chair and looked back at you, a small grin on his face. You grinned back at him, suddenly feeling rather competitive.

You went to go change into your gym uniforms, getting ready to begin the training exercise. When you and the other students arrived at Ground Omega you saw All Might waiting there, wearing his signature wide grin as he watched over the students.

“Welcome Class 1-A! Are you ready for the training exercise?” He asked cheerfully and was met with a less than excited agreement from the class. He hummed, realizing that the students must have been nervous after Aizawa’s explanation and tried to lighten the mood up a little bit.

“Don’t worry! We’re not going to be using any harmful methods or torture, it’s whatever you choose! Why, you could even tickle your person if you wanted to!”

You had originally been planning something else for Todoroki, but All Might’s words seemed to shift something in your brain. You glanced over at Todoroki, who looked over at you as you grinned at him. His normally calm expression shifted to something a little bit more nervous as he shook his head. He knew you well enough to know what you were planning, and you knew him well enough to know exactly how well it would work.

“Now, would every receiver come forward so I can tell you the code! This is a secret code that your partner will be trying to get out of you, and if you can last thirty minutes without telling them, you win! If you get the receiver to tell you the code you have to come back to the entrance and input the code into one of these boxes and press the button inside to signal that you’ve completed the exercise successfully!”

Half of the class stepped forward, including Todoroki, and listened intently as All Might whispered a code to them. He clapped his hands together as he finished up, telling a few words of advice to the receivers as well before addressing the whole class.

“The receivers get a five minute head start! After that, the rest of you will head in and try to track them down before interrogating them! Use the skills you’ve learned so far to help you.”

The class nodded as the receivers ran in. You waited a few moments before running in with the other students when the receivers head start was up. The other students took off into the forested grounds, hunting down their partners while you immediately took to the ground, feeling the surroundings. 

You had honed your Quirk to the max during your time at UA. Originally, you had only been able to form certain minerals and crystals and use them to your advantage in close ranged fighting, but you had managed to feel minerals in the ground as well, which gave you a major advantage when tracking Todoroki. You placed your hands on the ground, connecting to the minerals in Ground Omega and listened. There were many noises and footsteps, but you had a hunch on one specific running pattern not far off. You went with your instincts and began to chase it down. 

You stuck to the trees, watching your surroundings as you heard Kaminari wailing in the distance. Only someone as unlucky as Kaminari could’ve ended up with Bakugo as their partner, and you couldn’t help but feel pity as he screamed.

You continued on, however, and finally came up to a clearing in the woods, and you hid behind a tree as you saw Todoroki creep out from behind a bush and rush through the clearing, heading rather close to you unknowingly.

You jumped out from behind the tree, Todoroki instantly stopping in his tracks when he saw you. You ran at him and he raised his left hand, but no ice emitted. You hardened some crystals on your forearm just in case and tackled him to the ground, pinning his hands underneath your knees as you straddled his hips. He struggled, though it was clear that he already lost. You grinned at him, deciding to rub it in his face a little bit.

“Decided to show me mercy, hmm? You’re gonna regret that,” You quipped, and Todoroki grumbled, deciding to play along a little bit.

“You know I’m not going to tell you the code, right?”

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head as a grin grew on your face.

“I don’t think you realize the situation you’re in…”

Todoroki squirmed a bit more, uncomfortably this time, as if he were nervous. 

“I-If I weren’t the receiver I would’ve already gotten the code out of you by now,” He huffed confidently, a small grin on his face as well, as though this were some sort of game, one that he’d definitely win.

“You know, Shoto,” You said, leaning forward slightly as you traced a finger down his neck, making him freeze. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s so ticklish.”

Todoroki’s eyes widened. He had been hoping you would choose anything besides that, but apparently not. He shook his head, and you chuckled.

“What, did you think I forgot? You were so sensitive when we were younger, I wonder if you are now~”

“I’m not!” Todoroki exclaimed, his voice cracking in fear as you chuckled darkly.

“Oh? Then surely you won’t mind if I try it, hmm?”

Todoroki shook his head, practically chanting “No!” over and over as your hands slowly traced over his ribs, digging in lightly as he squirmed from side to side, giggling softly.

“S-Stop!”

You grinned smugly as Todoroki looked up at you, shaking his head. “Time to find out just how ticklish you are~”

Before Todoroki could react, your hands were under his pinned arms, wiggling your fingers around as he threw his head back, squealing.

“WAHahahahait! Stopstop! Plehehehease!” Todoroki’s panicked giggles immediately erupted and began to fill the air around you, Todoroki squirming from side to side as he tried to pull his hands out from under your knees but to no avail. 

He tried to clamp his arms, but he couldn’t, giving you free reign as you continued to scribble your fingers under his arms. You chuckled as his face turned slightly pink, likely from embarrassment as he continued to laugh. 

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it Shoto?”

“Nohohohoho! Leave me alohohohone!”

“Give me the code and I might~”

“M-Might? GAHAhaha!” Todoroki wailed when you dug into his ribs, dancing your fingers along as you played him like an instrument. You hummed, easily drumming your fingers along before tracing them downwards, brushing over his tummy before you poked his hips, making him jump. 

You grinned, grabbing onto them before giving them a firm squeeze, Todoroki throwing his head back as frantic laughter poured out from him. He bucked and squirmed, trying to wiggle out of your grasp, his hands changing temperature under your knees, which you noted. 

“Gonna start fighting back? Or are you planning on giving me that code?”

Todoroki’s laughter was echoing throughout the whole area as you attacked his hips with ease, pinching above the hip and then digging your thumb into the bone, driving Todoroki up the wall with the overwhelming sensations as he was completely overcome with mirth.

He still wasn’t giving up the code though, despite your efforts. You frowned, realizing you might need to take it up a notch. You grinned, using one hand to trace a circle on his tummy, making him shriek.

“What happens if I tickle you… here?” You asked, suddenly pinching up the sides of his tummy as he wailed, arching his back as he tried to squirm away from your vicious hands.

His laughter rose in pitch and volume as you scribbled your fingers across the sensitive spot, climbing up to his lower ribs before raking your fingers back down as he tried to squirm away, your hands following him with ease.

He threw his head back and cackled as you chuckled at him, laughing a bit when he snorted and shook his head. 

“Feel like telling me the code?”

“Nehehehehever!!” He screamed, digging his heels into the ground behind you. You chuckled and kept up the work on his tummy, knowing it was definitely going to be the spot to get him to break. 

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it Shoto?” You teased, and he shook his head, though you could tell he remembered. How could he forget? You were his best friend back then and now, and he had told you once that he treasured every memory he had with you.

As you thought more about your past with Todoroki you remembered something. Your smug grin widened as you kept scribbling along his tummy as he thrashed beneath you, slowly cooking up a plan in your mind.

“Hey, Shoto, what’s my favorite instrument?” You asked, and Todoroki looked at you slightly confused as he continued to laugh.

“Wh-Whahahat?”

You lifted his gym uniform shirt, and his eyes widened as he realized what you were doing.

“Nonono nohohohoho!! Don’t you dahahahare!”

“Give me the code then,” You said, and he shook his head, still giggling as you pinched his sides. You shrugged, leaning down as he panicked, screaming the word “No!” over and over as you got closer to his tummy. 

“What’s my favorite instrument, Shoto?” You asked with a sweet grin, halting your fingers for a moment as Todoroki giggled weakly. He knew exactly what you were up to, he remembered this game well. Though, knowing you, regardless of whether he picked the right instrument or not he knew you would still tickle him, anything to get the code.

“P-Piano?” He guessed and you made a buzzing noise.

“Wrong! Tuba!” You said. You quickly pressed your lips on his tummy, blowing hard as he screeched, your fingers on his sides as you pressed in specific patterns, much like playing a tuba. That was how the game went, whichever instrument you chose was the one you’d play if he guessed wrong, and it never failed to drive him absolutely bonkers.

You blew raspberry after raspberry on his tummy until it was pink, your fingers playing his sides like the valves of a tuba as he practically screamed with laughter beneath you, kicking his legs as he shook his head frantically.

“Okahahay! OKAHahahay! The code, I’ll give yohohohou the cohohodeeeee!” He finally squealed out after a few moments of the tuba torture. You pulled your hands and head away from him, folding your arms across your chest as you watched Todoroki’s chest heaved as he greedily took in the air around him. You waited for him to speak, but after getting a bit impatient with him you started scribbling your fingers on his tummy again.

“I’m gohohohonna tell you! Stahahap!” He squealed, and you let up, Todoroki letting out one final wheeze before speaking again.

“T-The code is 420,” He said weakly, and you smiled happily, patting his cheek before getting off of him, running off to the gate of Ground Omega. All Might stood at the entrance, along with a few students as you went over to a pink colored box and input the code that Todoroki had told you, making the box pop open as you pressed the button. A little thumbs-up popped out of the box as All Might pat you on the back.

“Congratulations on successfully completing the exercise!”

You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck shyly, turning back to face the forest as you saw Todoroki walking towards the gate, having fully regained his composure from his previous wreckage. 

You grinned and walked over to him, chirping happily about how you had won as he blushed, turning his head away from you. You laughed and poked his tummy again, making him squeak. He glared at you and you only laughed, making him smile softly. 

“I’ll get you next time,” He said, and you chuckled.

“Sure you will~”