#Its probably been done before but eh

[darklight-owl]

Another Note good

Also an AU where Misora survives and teams up with L (Light doesn't stand a chance)

[125storejuice]

Okay small rant time !!!!

[whilomm]

hey quick advice to any ppl who do a lotta business over email espec freelancers/creatives who'll have potential new clients emailing them, communications w current clients, etc: if you go on vacation and plan to NOT answer any emails during that time, take five minutes to set up a quick autoresponse to say "I will be out of office for vacation from (date) to (date) and I will not be responding to any emails". l

especially if you're like, in the middle of communicating with a potential client, because going from extremely quick responses to a weeklong radio silence without explaination kinda looks like you know. ghosting them.

[bigfatbimbo]

Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 

[lundenloves]

BABY’S FIRST WORDS

〔 a fluff piece brought to you by yours truly. domesticity at its finest, featuring the rarity of simon joking and we even observe a rare laugh from him. not without his usual cluelessness and blunt nature though. king! 〕

˗ˏˋ i honestly love him just existing as a dad. learn as you go type stuff, his daughter latching onto him when he wanted it least must’ve done him good. our emotionally stunted husband — someone give this man a hug and tell him he’s alr.

⇀ 1k | no warnings

dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info | taglist

Of course. Of course it had happened the only ten minutes of the day you had left her — barely managing one foot in the shower before Simon had opened the door with your daughter in his hands. Not arms, but hands. “She spoke.” He provided lamely, holding her out to you as if she contained a transferable illness. 

You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your dry body before taking her from him, the smile she made was adoring. “She what.” Brows pung upward, your brief frown at his interruption loosening into a warmth while peppering kisses all across her cheeks. “She—“ 

“She said my name.” 

“She said Simon?” You retorted and he scoffed, taking a step backward to the door, forearm leant on the threshold. “Dad?” She reached for your hair, small fingers pulling on it with a smile when you had begun bouncing her from side to side. 

Simon shifted. “Bit like,” His words were lost for a baby laugh, one that echoed against the bathroom walls. Your hand was against your mouth in milliseconds, finding obvious tears welling in your eyes. 

“What the fuck.” You mouthed, smoothing the hair on her head and Simon raised his brows in acknowledgment of your reaction, the faintest of smiles tugging at the side of his lip. “Sorry, what did she say?” You let a breathy laugh go, one that emphasised your emotionality. 

His eyes switched between you and his daughter, leaning his full weight against the door now. “Da.”

You tilted your head at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel whole?” The baby in your arms began flailing her arms in your hold, reaching for her father as if on cue. 

Simon shrugged, pushing off from the door to close the distance between you and allowing her to poke at his tattoo. “Didn’t think much of it.” He admitted, his eyes landing on yours that had narrowed ever so slightly with an understanding nod. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He bit at the skin on his top lip, acutely aware of the flaring of your nostrils. A list of potential worries flurrying your mind, ones you would all deem as irrational though Simon probably wouldn’t. It was valid to worry about his reactions. 

His immediate reaction to your daughters first laugh was, “Oh, shit.” The noise being between a baby coo and giggle combined into something that would’ve burst your chest yet only poked at his. He held her outward, stretched forearms while her small feet kicked in the air. 

Then came her first word, one of demand, a strong “Da!” One Simon had told himself meant dad, though it was more likely a protesting noise to be put down. Whatever the noise meant, he granted her outstretched hands, placing her back down onto his knee and bouncing it up and down gently. 

By no means did Simon Riley know what to do with a baby, he was still learning, very slowly — but surely. “What was that?” He mumbled at her, his eyes boring into hers as if she were an adult who could understand his demanding stare. “Tell dad, eh? Say it again.”

To clarify the noise wasn’t made in anger. 

Instead, she grabbed at his shoulder, bunching up the material of his shirt loosely. “Or that.” He muttered, diverting his attention along with her own to Blue Planet that had been on pause for ten minutes since you had left. 

He tapped his fingers in quick succession of the one before, the sofa armrest now becoming a point of interest for the baby who had watched his hand move. Though, right before she could hike off his thigh, he had then decided to take her through to you. You know, just to let you know your daughter had just spoken her first word (noise) alongside a laugh. 

“Did she say anything else?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen to his forehead only for it to drop back down. 

“Yeah.” He said bluntly, taking her from your hold and looking down to her. “Quantum physics,” 

A pause for your sigh. “Explained it all.” 

You nudged his shoulder, turning to check the shower temperature. “Go put her down. She’s due a sleep.” Your back was to the man, though his expression was easily imagined. “No, I can’t do it.”

Oftentimes, Simon zoned out when doing anything with the baby. It was something he took through future years too, future kids and all ages, arguments at breakfast? Zoned out. Walking with him? Not there. Even talking to him? Meh. 

He put the baby down in a trance, standing over the cot silently praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would continue her peace. That no cries would break and his headache would remain in its rest, taking slow steps backward when she had shut her eyes. 

“Can't believe she spoke to you.” You had said later that night, leant against a barstool watching Simon cut up an onion in that one way you just couldn’t master. “And not me, that is.” 

“I have a charm.” He pointed the knife on its end, spinning it on the cutting board before eyeing you. “Obviously.”

“A silent-threatening-mediocre type of charm.”

He shrugged, sliding the annoyingly perfect dicing into a pan. “First laugh too.” It was a mumble designed to entice a reaction, and that it did, your arm barging against his after hearing your baby cry on cue. 

“I’ll get something from her yet.��� You picked up washing from the bottom stair, beginning up the stairs to go and pacify. 

“Only got the rest of your life!” He shouted for you to hear, gaining an earnest roll of your eyes. 

“I prefer you when you’re quiet.” You spoke aloud, just enough to gain a laugh from him, one you imagined he had let go without permission while aggressively preparing another onion. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123

unedited as usual. gonna go over my dad!simon masterlist this week. reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!

[lxvvie]

Phillip Graves who's obsessed with you.

You caught his eye long before you even knew who he was.

There's something about you, darlin', something that draws him in and he wants to know more. While he's bidding his time, he'll gather all the intel he needs.

Thank god for Shadow Company. His boys are the best at what they do and it's nothing to reward 'em for a job well done. Everything about you, from what you had for dinner last night up to your favorite coffee blend is his for the keeping.

Graves makes it a point to learn your mannerisms, too. He takes notice of the way your nose slightly scrunches and your eyes flick to the right when you're thinking about what to say next to your friend you met for drinks at one of the local bars. He drinks in the way your middle and index finger run over your lips as you contemplate which drink you're trying to order at your favorite coffee shop. You'd never know he did it, either. Thank goodness for plain clothes and baseball caps, eh, darlin'?

But when Graves does make his presence known, he does so in small doses. Your favorite bakery? Oh, what a coincidence, darlin'. They make good sourdough bread. You favorite deli? Oh, darlin', have you had their chicken club sandwich before? The bar you're at? Him and the boys come here all the time to decompress, sweetheart. Their craft beer is fuckin' amazing, too. It's enough to keep your suspicions to a minimum if they even exist. To you, he's just the friendly, well-meaning resident with similar tastes.

And then he finds out you're dating, or, well, you're trying your hand at dating. Same friend you met for drinks was playing matchmaker. The boys did their homework. Your date was a simple fellow, accountant or human resources or some shit, white collar kid with the looks but not the self-esteem to go with them. Regular hobbies not worth mentioning. A boring sumbitch if Graves ever saw one. He's not bad. He's not good for you, either, darlin'. Not like Graves himself is.

And when the time comes, you'd be left wondering what the hell happened. Knowing you, you were dressed to the nines, ready to chow down on some good food, and... he bailed on you. A short text. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything was probably just fine and dandy a couple hours ago. Phillip counts on it, and he thanks his lucky stars that he predicted correctly as he sees you at your favorite dive, nursing the craft beer he recommended. And he makes his move.

By his estimation, it's been about 30 to 45 minutes since he came and sat next to you and helped make your would-be date seem like a bad, faraway memory. Graves has you embroiled in conversation, has you laughing, replacing what would've been a boring ass date with his charm and wit, and before you know it, Graves drops the coup de grâce on your love life. "A bit starving here, darlin'. How about we grab a bite on me?" And shit, you couldn't turn that down. Not when he turned what would've been a bad night on its head. You beamed, accepted without hesitation, and off you two went. For a boring bastard, the kid's got good taste in food.

And when Graves sees the poor bastard again, he'll thank him. For stepping aside, for the dinner reservations, y'know, a friendly conversation between men. And as for his boys, well, Graves figures a bonus is due. After all, he got his. Why not spread his joy around?

[ramblingoak]

Copia on ICE! ~ part one ~

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus...

~ I commissioned @enjoy-my-swearing to bring speed skater Copia to life so please take a moment to appreciate her amazing work (especially the butt sparkles) ~

Warnings: a vague understanding of how the Winter Olympics actually works also their ages are obviously gonna be a little funky so just roll with it, angst, fluff, smug copia, fingering, dirty talk, lots of kissing, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, about 15k words

“Elegant…graceful…soft.”

Your coach’s words echoed in your head as you skated across the ice.  Reminders of how figure skaters should appear while they perform.  The music to your short program reached its crescendo in your head and you pushed yourself into your first jump, quickly leaping into the second as you landed.  You spun towards the stands with your arms extended out, smiling towards all the imaginary people looking on.  

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!”  You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone.  “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”    

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.”  He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face.  “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.”  You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look.  “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.”  His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response.  When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin.  “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.”  Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it.  “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early?  We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now?  Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.”  He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening.  “I’ve been practicing for weeks.  Months.”  You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear.  “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo!  We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.”  You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink.  “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!”  Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes.  “Amica mia, I know this.  How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh.  Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much.  White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt.  When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor.  With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something.  Your costume is 80% lace.  Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.”  You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench.  “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.”  At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team.  “You should see him, cara mia.  Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player.  He’s the captain.”

“The captain?  Then why the fuck are you still here?  Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”  

He bent down to start untying his skates and shoved them along with the rest of his things into his gym bag.  You tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as you watched him work.  Terzo was so much more carefree than you were, something you really appreciated in the last few years.  You were still recovering from a knee injury when you first met him and his humor and kindness had done wonders for you.  It also helped that as soon as you had met his older brother you basically had been adopted into the family.

Primo was a member of the curling team and while it wasn’t the most popular sport his success made him fairly well known.  He had spent most of his life acting like a father to his three younger brothers.  Their actual father, Nihil, had been absent for much of their life.  If you asked any of them they would state that Primo was the head of the family and wouldn’t bring up Nihil’s name at all.

Secondo was the second oldest, an imposing and stern man to anyone outside his close circle of family and friends.  He had spent most of his life playing hockey, one of the best goaltenders that the sport had ever seen.  His nickname was Bone Daddy although few dared call him that to his face.  The design of his mask was that of a terrifying skull, a design he had claimed had been used by Emeritus family members from long ago.

Although you were pretty sure the story he told you about the family running a Satanic Church was completely made up.

His terrifying reputation on the ice was enhanced by the fact that under his mask and helmet he painted his face with the same skull design.  Secondo reveled in pulling his mask off to startle members of the opposing team and referees alike.  He probably would still be tending goal if he hadn't injured his shoulder years prior.  Now he was the head coach of the Italy team, skull makeup still proudly worn every game and oftentimes in between.

The one brother you hadn’t met yet was Copia.  Although with as much as the media loved to talk about him each Winter Olympics you were surprised you hadn’t.  Copia was one of the most decorated athletes in any Olympic sport.  You had been hoping to run into him at some point, mostly just so you could meet the entire family, but deep down you could admit there was another reason: Copia Emeritus was gorgeous.

The entire family was to be more accurate, but Copia was the face that had the habit of popping into your head when you were daydreaming.  It didn’t help that he seemed to be everywhere right now.  With what was being touted as his last Olympic Games it seemed like every reporter was clamoring to interview him.  You’d seen his face across a majority of the magazines littered around the Olympic village lounge area and you really hoped Terzo never found the one you had already swiped to look at later.

Your musings were interrupted when Terzo zipped his bag closed and stood up, seemingly looking around for something.  You snorted when you realized what he was missing.

“You left your coat in our room, remember?”  Terzo’s shoulders slumped and he groaned.  “Something about ‘giving everyone a show’ while we walked here?”  When he grabbed yours that you’d thrown over the rink wall you got up as well.  “Hey, no that’s mine!”

“Per favore, amica mia?”  He got distracted by his phone beeping again and after a quick look he turned to you even more desperate.  “Omega wants to go sightseeing and then go back to his room after…”

“And you’re dressed like that.”    He nodded at you while he pouted and really, that shouldn’t work as well as it did.  “Ok, fine!  You might as well take my sweatpants too, don’t need the entire town seeing your ass hanging out.”

In short order you had your friend bundled up and ready for his date.  It was cute to see him continually checking his phone, you’d never seen Terzo so excited about a date before.  You were about to go back out on the ice and start practicing again when the doors at the back of the stands opened and a figure blocked out the light.

“Terzo that guy looks like he could break you in half.”

“Fuck I hope so.”  He pulled you into a fierce hug before starting up the stairs.  “Don’t wait up!”

“I suppose I’ll need to take your bag back to our room?”  

Terzo turned and flashed you a grin before making it up to Omega and practically launching into the guy’s arms.  Omega held up a hand and you waved back, lowering it with a sigh when the two men went out the door and left you alone.    You turned back towards the rink, shooting a glare at the two huge bags you’d now have to lug back to the village.  Well, no use worrying about that now, you had two hours left to practice and you were determined to get your routine perfect.

Anything less than that wouldn’t get a medal around your neck.

Hours later you were exhausted and desperately wanting to be out of your costume and back in your room.  Easier said than done considering you had to lug both yours and Terzo’s things back with you.

“Goddammit.  Ugh!”  You straightened up, lifting Terzo’s bag and slinging it over your head as you turned.  “He better be the lay of the centur—shit!”

As you turned to head towards the exit you ran right into a solid something.  You immediately took a step away but with the extra weight hanging off your back you kept going, falling backwards and landing on your ass.  With a groan you let your head fall back onto the ground.  The man you had slammed into was laughing, a deep chuckle that reminded you too much of Terzo.  You heard fabric rustle and then felt a hand touch your knee.

“Is uh, everything okie dokie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  With a groan you started to sit up, flailing a bit until the man grabbed one of your hands to help.  “You know you shouldn’t sneak up…oh.”

Copia Emeritus was mere inches away from you.

His brown hair was combed back, flecks of gray catching on the fluorescent lights.  There was some dark makeup around a familiar set of eyes, one green and one white.  A carefully groomed mustache sat above a full set of lips.  Your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body, the jacket was emblazoned with the colors of the Italian flag.  Below that he seemed to be wearing a uniform, tight fabric hugging his hips and—

“Sneak up on?”

“Thighs!”

Damn it.  You dropped your head into your hand with a groan.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Uh, yes?”  The man crouched down again, a gloved hand pulling your own away from your face.  When you dared to look at him he was smirking, another familiar feature shared with your friend.  You decided to try for indifference and hoped he bought it.  “Copia?”

“Copia.”  He placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers probing through your hair.  You tried to swat at his hand but he easily grabbed it with his free one.  “Quit that, I’m trying to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m fine!  It’s fine.”  Copia pulled away, holding his hands up in surrender.  You ignored the little pang of…whatever after he did so.  Instead you focused on pulling the bag straps off your shoulders and trying to get up.  Sheepishly you met Copia’s eyes, scrunching your nose up at the amused look on his face.  “Could you lend me a hand?”

“Oh now you want a hand, eh?”  He chuckled at your grumbling, taking your hands and easily pulling you to your feet.  “Upsy daisies.”

“Daisy.”

“Is that your name?”

“No, it’s—upsy daisy.  Not daisies.”  When Copia gave you a confused look you groaned and turned around, glaring down at the bags.  There were more feathers from your costume resting on the ground and you quickly knelt down to grab them.  “Damn it.”

“What is this anyway?”  You looked up at him as you picked up the feathers, narrowing your eyes at the fingers wiggling your way.  “Your clothes.”

“It’s my costume.”

“Costume for what?”

“I’m a figure skater.”

“Ah, so you probably know mio fratello, Terzo.”

“Unfortunately.”  You chose to ignore how handsome his smile made him look, standing up again with a handful of white feathers.  He kept eyeing your costume, looking up and down your body with what you hoped was appreciation.  “What?”

“You are uh, una paperina?”

“Huh?  Yeah.  You know, Swan Lake.”  Copia was biting his lip, looking to be about two seconds from laughing.  Ok so, not appreciation.  “What now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.  Just remembering Terzo covered in feathers when he skated to that too.”

“It’s a popular song.”

“Sí, I think everyone skates to it at least once.”

What the fuck?

“And?  It’s a good song!”

“Paperina, I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Skating to Swan Lake is a lot more difficult than skating in a circle.”

Ha!  That got him.  Copia’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is it now?  Have you ever watched speed skating?”  He huffed when you shook your head.  “I think if you watched you would change your mind.”

“Yes, well I’m busy right now so I’ll take a rain check.”  You turned and knelt down again, shoving the feathers in a pocket of your bag and then slinging the strap over your head.  “It’s late, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

“What?”  As you stood up you couldn’t stop yourself from wavering on your feet again, but this time Copia kept his hands to himself.  “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, doesn’t the swan turn into a pumpkin if they aren’t back home at midnight?”

“You are mixing two very, very different fairy tales.”  Copia shrugged, seemingly unbothered with fairy tale lore.  As you reached down and picked up Terzo’s bag your balance shifted again but you moved away when Copia reached out to steady you.  “I got it!”

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are Paperina?”

“Once or twice.”  You took a few steps to the side to go around Copia but he moved to block you.  “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Once or twice.”  God, even his smile was annoying.  And handsome.  Damn it.  “I’m actually looking for my brother.”

“He left a while ago with some guy.”

“Of course.  Hockey player?”

You couldn’t help but grin, it was clear Copia knew his brother well.

“The captain of the Swedish team in fact.”

“Ha!  Secondo is gonna love that.”  He looked down and motioned towards Terzo’s bag.  “Isn’t that his?”

“I’m taking it back to our room for him.  Apparently.  Hey!”

“Allow me.”  He easily tugged the bag out of your hands, grinning in response to your narrowed eyes.  “Where’s your coat?  It’s too cold out there for Swan Lake.”

“Terzo needed it more.”  At Copia’s raised eyebrow you just shrugged.  “His costume has a lot of lace.”

“Ah, should have known.”  He sighed and set his brother’s bag down, bringing his hands up to the zipper on his hoodie and quickly pulling it off.  “Wear this while I walk you back.”

“I don’t need your escort or your hoodie.”

“You are unfortunately getting both Paperina so chop, chop.  Let’s go.”

You both stared each other down, although his look was much more amused than yours was.

“Fine, whatever.  Gimme.”  His little smug grin had you gritting your teeth.  It was unfair that he looked this good.  Once you had his hoodie on and zipped up you held your arms out.  “Happy?”

The look he gave you then was definitely appreciative.  Lingering long enough on your face that you hoped he thought your red cheeks were from the cold and not your blush.

“Molto felice.”  Copia easily swung Terzo’s bag over his shoulder and gestured for you to go ahead of him.  “You first Paperina.”

The walk back to the Olympic Village was mostly quiet.  Once or twice you thought you heard him singing softly under his breath but he stopped whenever you glanced his way.  You were trying very hard not to stare at him.  Copia carried himself in that confident way athletes at the top of their game had.  It made you self conscious and you immediately straightened up, pulling your shoulders back and correcting your posture.

It had been a while since you’d been at the top of yours.

The large lounge area on the main floor was still mostly full.  Athletes from all sports and countries getting to know each other or sitting quietly on their own.  Four years ago you’d be down here with them, finding new friends and connections.  You couldn’t afford that this year though, not with so much on the line.

“Paperina?”  Copia’s voice dragged you from your melancholy thoughts.  You expected to see an amused look on his face but instead he looked almost concerned.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes.  I’m good.  Actually this is good.”   He raised an eyebrow when you held your hands out for Terzo’s bag.  “I got it from here.”

“Terzo already bitched at me about how far away his room was, let me help.”

“No it’s fine, really.”  Copia sighed, seemingly understanding he wasn’t going to win.  “Thank you for your help though.”

“It’s nothing.  The least I could do, uh, since my brother left you.”

“I’m not mad, it was for a good cause.”

“Sí, a hockey captain.”  You stared at each other for a moment, long enough that you started fidgeting under his stare.  “Have a good night Paperina.”

“You too Copia.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading off, disappearing into a crowd of Canadians.  With a sigh you began to make your way towards the elevators for your section of the dorms.  Terzo was right, your room was far away.  But it was nice to be able to room with your friend.  You knew Terzo had thrown his family name around, and probably a little money, to make it happen.  It made times he did stupid things like tonight more bearable.

Still, it didn’t stop you from dropping both your bags down in front of your door with a curse aimed his way.  Another curse left you when you noticed the sock on the doorknob.  You started knocking on the door sharply, turning your hand to hit it with the side of your fist when nothing happened.

“Terzo!” 

There was muffled cursing behind the door and the sound of something being knocked over before it opened and your friend shoved his head through the opening.

“Sí?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?  Didn’t you see the sock?”  You flinched back when Terzo yanked it off the doorknob and swung it in front of your face.  “I’m having sex!”

“Good for you, why are you having sex in our room?  I thought you were going back to Omega’s!”

“Ah well, you see his roommate had already claimed the room.  So.  Here we are.”  Terzo’s grin turned into a grimace when you twisted his nipple.  “Ai!  I just got that pierced!”

“I don’t care!  I am tired, I am cold and I’m dressed like a fucking swan.  Let me in.”

“I am begging you to go away.”

“Where am I supposed to go?!”

“I don’t know!  Go mingle downstairs!  Show off your feathers.”  He jerked back, slamming into the door to get away from your fingers.  “Stop pinching!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“Amica mia, please.  Omega.”  Terzo gestures towards the door in that hopeless way he did when he was struggling to find the right words.  “I like him.”

“Like like?”  He rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod.  Goddammit.  “Alright!  But just tonight though!”

“Sí, sí.  Just tonight.”  Terzo tugged you in for a quick hug, pressing a noisy kiss into your temple before pulling away.  His hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at your chest.  You were about to tell him off for staring before you realized he was looking at the hoodie.  Copia’s hoodie.  “Where did you get this?”

“Your brother came looking for you and took pity on me.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen next to that costu—ow, ow!  What did I say!  They are healing!”  He hissed at you as he pressed himself back into the door, his arms crossed comically high on his chest.  “Are you two friends now?”

“Sure, we’re best friends.  I think we’ll room together at the next Olympics.”  When Terzo started waggling his eyebrows you groaned.  “Shut up.”

“This is his last one, amica.”  You gave him a questioning look but Terzo just shrugged.  “That’s what he’s been saying at least.”

“Anyway, how long do you need?  Five minutes?  Ten?”

“You did see Omega, right?  Try five hours.”  You wrinkled your nose at the thought and Terzo gleefully continued,  “He likes to switch too.  Is this…is this what love feels like?”

“Two hours.  No, stop pouting.  You have two hours Terzo before I break the door down.”

“Fine. Deal.”  He opened the door again and grabbed the bags, quickly tossing them inside before spinning around with a grin on his face.  “Go make some new friends while I make some babies.”

He laughed at the horrified look on your face, taking advantage of it to slip back into the room and shut the door.  The sound of the lock clicking was loud in the empty hallway.  You sighed and shoved your hands into your borrowed hoodie, looking down at it for a moment and then freezing when you saw the feathers peeking out from below. 

“Fuck.”

The lounge was thankfully a little quieter when you got back down there.  No one gave you any weird looks at least.  You found a seat close to one of the big fireplaces and settled down, letting the heat wash over you.  Hopefully no one would bat an eye if you fell asleep, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time an athlete had been locked out of their room for one reason or another.

“Paperina?”  You groaned and looked up into the face of Terzo’s brother.  “What are you doing down here?”

His clothes were different, you could see the blue of his skating suit peeking out at his neck and at his wrists.  He had reapplied the makeup around his eyes too, as well as covering just his upper lip.  It probably would bother you more if Terzo didn’t regularly wear skull makeup during his routines.  The Emeritus family was interesting, you had to give them that. 

“Your brother and the hockey captain were there.”  A flash of irritation washed over Copia’s face so you quickly reached out and grasped his hand.  When he glanced down at it you immediately let go, watching as he flexed it afterwards.  “It’s fine, I gave him two hours.”

“You’re going to sit here for two hours?”

“Yes, it’s ok.  I’ve got the fire and I can take a little nap.”  You flinched when a few guys started shouting at something playing on a tv nearby.  “I’m good.”

“You’re too nice Paperina, that stronzino doesn’t deserve you.”  Copia held both of his hands out to you smiling when you just stared at them.  “Let’s go, you can come with me.”

“Come with you where?  Hey!” 

He had reached down and grabbed your hands, easily pulling you out of the chair and ushering you ahead of him towards the door. 

“If you’re gonna just sit somewhere you can sit and watch me skate in circles.  How about that?”

He looked cocky and sure of himself, exactly how you’d expect an eight time gold medalist to look.  You bit your lip as you thought it over.  Speed skating had never been a sport you sought out to watch.  Skating in circles was boring, no one could convince you otherwise.  But you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, at the sweatpants you knew were covering that tight uniform.  The tight uniform over those huge thighs. 

At least the scenery would be nice. 

“How long will this take?”

“Eh, usually I practice for three hours.”

“I gave Terzo two.”

“We both know he’ll beg you for one more so just sit here like a good little Swan Lake and watch, okie dokie?”

“Ugh, fine.”  Copia raised an eyebrow when you shivered, the hoodie of his not doing much against the cold of the rink.  Your thin costume underneath didn’t help either.  “I’m fine.”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be fine?”

His question stunned you long enough you didn’t even protest when he pulled his coat off and threw it over you.  Copia was grinning when you yanked it off your head, watching as you situated it over yourself for a moment before he headed towards the locker rooms.  You tried very hard not to watch him go but it was near impossible and you were too tired to care.  After a few minutes of looking around you couldn’t help but burrow deeper into his coat, his cologne clinging to the fabric.  You allowed yourself one deep inhale, your eyes closing briefly while you tried to pinpoint the brand.

“Acqua di Gio.”  You flinched, nearly slipping off the bench at Copia’s voice.  “Armani.”

“I know it’s Armani.”

Your voice came out a little harsher than you wanted but luckily he just seemed amused.   After you had settled back into your seat you managed to look him over.  Gone were the sweatpants, he was now just in his sleek skating suit and it was clinging to every dip and curl of muscle on his body.  You didn’t even bother looking back up at his face, you knew by now he’d be smug as all hell.  Instead you noticed a styrofoam cup in his hand, finally meeting his eyes when he held it out towards you.

“Hot cocoa.  To warm you up.”  You timidly reached out and took it, not even minding when his gloved fingers lingered against yours.  “Unless you want more of my clothes.”

“Fuck off.”  His chuckle was starting to become one of your favorite sounds and this was ridiculous, you barely knew him!  You needed to get some distance and clear your head.  “Go on, show me how well you can skate in a circle.”

His only answer was a smirk as he backed away a few steps before heading towards the opening to the rink.  He pulled the covers off his blades, tossing them to the side before shooting out onto the ice.  There were a few others already out there and it was fascinating to see them give Copia space, a sign of deference you supposed.  He nodded their way but didn’t say anything, just started to go through a series of stretches while you all looked on. 

Despite the public setting it felt very private.  Terzo had been sharing a lot of little anecdotes about his brother since you’d both arrived at the Games.  Information you wouldn’t hear about in anything official.  You knew that Copia had been having problems with his knee, that it had been obviously bothering him more and more.  He’d only received one gold in the last games when he normally would get it in all of his events.  Since then he hadn’t competed much, a few European tournaments here and there.

According to Terzo he was saving himself for one last Olympic Games, this Olympic Games.  Copia was determined to go out at the top of his game.  With the way the media and even his brother had depicted him, an extremely serious athlete that seemed to live on the ice it was strange to look back on the last few hours and how he acted.  He was far more carefree than you expected.  Quick to joke around even if it was at your expense.

You had a feeling Paperina didn’t mean what you thought it did.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of skates gliding across the ice.  It was louder than what you were used to but as you looked out towards the rink you easily figured out why.  Copia was a blur as he moved across the ice, his powerful legs pumping him towards each corner.  It was then he’d lower one side of his body down, his fingertips grazing the ice and keeping him balanced until he was through.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You smiled at the man that sat down next to you, someone you had looked forward to seeing as soon as you had arrived at the Olympic Village.

“Hi Primo.”  He gave you a warm smile, knocking his shoulder against yours.  “Did you come to cheer him on?”

“It seems that’s what he brought you for, hmm?”  You rolled your eyes, hunkering further down into Copia’s coat.  “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We just met actually, a few hours ago.”

“Thick as thieves already then, I’m not surprised.”  He ignored the questioning look you gave him so you shoved your elbow into his side.  “Careful now, I’m an old man.”

“He just feels bad.  Terzo kicked me out.”

“I warned you not to room with him.”  He shook his head but he was clearly not surprised at Terzo’s antics.  “A snowboarder?”

“Nope, hockey.  The captain of the Sweden team.”

“Secondo is going to kill him.”

“Good, then I’ll have the room to myself.”

It was Primo’s turn to elbow you and when you looked his way he nodded towards the rink.  Your eyes immediately found Copia’s as he leaned against the wall.  He had taken his helmet off and his hair was all over the place.  You could see how flushed his cheeks were already, his breathing heavy from the laps he’d put in.

“I don’t know, looks like you might have some company.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything back, but you were too dumbfounded to say anything anyway.  Primo waved at his brother before giving your leg a squeeze and getting up.  His movements were a little slower than you remembered but you knew when it was time for his event he’d be gliding across the ice just like he’d been doing for years.  There was a reason he’d led the Italian curling team to so many podiums.

You took a long drink of your cocoa, a little disappointed it had lost most of its warmth.  Copia was still looking your way when you glanced at him although you couldn’t read the expression on his face.  The eye contact was lost when one of the other skaters stopped by him and you let out the breath you’d been holding when he looked away.

This was ridiculous, you were acting like some love struck teenager.  You needed to get a grip.  Neither one of you could afford distractions right now.  Both of you skating with the same goal in mind but for very different reasons.  As if on cue your knee twinged slightly and you slowly stretched it out in front of you.  It was fine, it was going to be fine.  You’d gotten silver in the last two tournaments you’d done leading up to this year's Olympics.  It was fine.

You were fine.

“Hey.”

“Goddammit.”  The man next to you was the same one that had been talking to Copia on the ice.  You took a quick breath and glanced up at him.  “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m supposed to give you this.”  He thrust another styrofoam cup towards you so you quickly set down the empty one you had been holding.  “And this.”

In his other hand was one of those large soft pretzels that every concession stand on the planet sold.  The kind covered in salt and butter.  They were your favorite thing to get whenever you needed something quick to eat.  You eagerly took it from the man’s hand, muttering a thanks when he nodded and then started walking towards the locker room.

Back on the ice Copia was doing laps again.  Everyone else had left so it was just him out there, although he was acting like he was fighting off a handful of other skaters.  His movements were truly mesmerizing.  Even from your seat you could see his muscles move, see the concentration on his face as he made lap after lap.

He slid to a stop right in front of where you were sitting, catching your eyes as you took a huge bite of the pretzel.  Part of it was sticking out of your mouth as you watched him.  It was too late to try to be ladylike about it so you just ate it how you normally would.   Copia held up a finger, gesturing at his wrist briefly.  One more hour then.  You nodded at him, saluting him with the rest of your pretzel and finding way too much joy in the sound of his laughter echoing from the rink.

“Is your knee ok?”  

You were on your way back to the dorms, snow starting to softly fall around you.  Copia had taken his hoodie back but you were still wearing his jacket.  His cologne had probably permeated your costume at this point and you were stuck between liking the idea but also dreading the distraction it might bring.

“It’s good, feels good to walk.”  You let your face fall into the neck of his coat, trying to hide your smile.  “How about yours?”

“Eh it will be fine.  A nice massage, some ice and it will be good as new.” 

“I didn’t realize the clinics were open this late.”

“I’ll be massaging it myself, Paperina.  That is unless you’re offering?”

“No!  No I’m not.”  He snorted and was shaking his head when you looked at him again.  “What?”

“You don’t have to be so scandalized.  What’s a little knee massage between friends huh?”

“So we’re friends?”

The automatic doors of the building slid open and you couldn’t help but start to walk faster.  Copia easily picked up his pace to match yours, following you all the way to the elevators towards your section of the dorms.

“Is that what you want?  To be friends?”

There was no denying the charged air between you two.  The attraction between you both had been building ever since he had taken Terzo’s bag from you.  You couldn’t help but take a step back though, wincing when a brief look of disappointment appeared on his face.

“I don’t think we can afford to be anything else.”  You knew your face showed your own disappointment and you didn’t bother trying to hide it.  Your fingers twisted nervously where they were hidden in the sleeves of his coat while you debated on saying what you wanted to.  Fuck it.  “At least for right now.”

“Right now?”  His smile was back as he walked towards you.  It grew slightly predatory when you started to back away, only stopping when your back hit the wall by the elevator doors.  “Then when can that change?”

“After our events.  We can’t get distrac—oh.”  Copia had pressed forward, resting his forearms against the wall by your head.  He had showered in the locker room but there was still the slight smell of sweat on him.  His head dropped close enough you felt his lips brush ever so slightly against your cheek.  “Copia…”

“Our events then.  After we get gold, yeah?” 

“Yes.  At least I hope so.”

“Don’t worry Paperina,”  Copia stepped back, smiling smugly as he held your gaze.  “I’ll give you one of mine if you don’t.”  

Thankfully the sock was gone when you got back to the room.  

You quietly opened the door, peeking in but not seeing anyone inside.  They must have been able to go back to Omega’s room.  You took advantage of the emptiness, quickly shucking Copia’s coat and tossing it over a chair.  The next part was your costume, you had to be extra careful removing it.  The last thing you wanted to worry about doing was losing more damn feathers.  

The shower felt heavenly and you got it as hot as you dared.  The scent of Copia’s cologne that was lingering on your skin washed off quickly but you tried not to dwell on it.  It was obvious you’d be seeing him again.  He certainly didn’t seem like the type to give up easily, much like his brothers.  You snorted thinking of his last comment.  The Emeritus’s were a cocky bunch, but it was with good reason.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear all of the Emeritus brothers out of your mind.  It was tough like usual to get all the hairspray washed out of your hair but once you were done you allowed yourself to just relax and lean against the wall.  Looking down your body you watched the soap slowly fall over your skin and down onto the tile.  Your eyes fell onto your knee like they usually did when there was nothing covering it and it made you wince like always.

It wasn’t so much that you thought it was ugly, to you it was a mark of survival.  Not that it was necessarily a life threatening thing.  In reality a fall while doing a jump could have gone far, far worse than it did.  But landing on your knee had been excruciating.  Laying out there on the ice in front of thousands of people had been excruciating.  However the two years you had spent rehabbing it had been worse.

The multiple surgeries, the constant appointments for physical therapy…  It felt like you had practically lived at the hospital for those two years.  But you had been determined to come back from it.  You were too young to let your dream go.  Your eyes were drawn to your knee like always, to the scars that ran along the sides.  The doctor had jokingly said that shorts and short skirts might not be in your future and it had taken so much willpower not to punch him.  

Your scars were proof that you had survived the injury.  That you hadn’t let it stop you from pursuing what you had been doing since you were a kid.  Since you could even stand up on skates.  This is what you had always wanted to do, what you had dreamed of.  The Winter Olympics were the pinnacle of that dream.  You were determined to get on that podium this year.  You wanted to show everyone that nothing would stop you from getting there.

Copia’s face appeared in your mind then.  You could imagine his smug grin as he teased you.  You thought of the way he smelled, the way he covered you in his scent by loaning you his coat.  You thought of his body in his uniform, how powerful his legs were.  He could probably hold you up easily, maybe push one of his knees between your legs and let you straddle his thick thigh.

Your head fell back against the shower wall, a little zing of pleasure running through you at the thought.  Almost absentmindedly you placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it over your skin in a few circles before letting it slip down further and into the thatch of hair between your legs.  You thought of grinding against Copia’s thigh, your feet probably not even touching the ground because he was holding you up so high.  

Two of your fingers rubbed tight circles over your clit as you fell deeper into your fantasy.  Copia’s fingers were thick, it was obvious even with them hidden under those gloves.  They were thick and they’d feel amazing stroking inside of you.  You brought your other hand to your cunt and rubbed across your entrance.  A moan punched out of you when you pressed two of them inside.  There was barely any resistance you were already so turned on just by thinking about Copia doing this to you.

He probably loved to dirty talk, he probably loved describing all the things he planned on doing to you.  Your fingers pumped faster imagining the filthy things he would whisper in your year.  Things he would do to you if you only asked.  You’d more than ask, you’d beg for it if you had to.  You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you wanted everything.  His mouth, his fingers, his cock...

You wanted it all.

The next few days went by in a blur.

Both you and Terzo were focused on practicing for your upcoming events.  You each had a short and long program to skate, the combined scores of both decided your final place in the standings.  Despite the importance of it all Terzo did manage to skip out a lot to meet up with Omega.  You had met him a few times by now as well and you had immediately liked him.  He was just the kind of partner Terzo needed.  Honestly he was the kind of partner you wanted.

Of course thinking about partners had your stupid mind drifting to Copia.  You hadn’t seen him at all since that night, only catching glimpses of his face on the tv screens or the odd magazine laying around the lounge and cafeteria.  It wasn’t like you expected to spend all your time with him, but it made that whole night feel surreal.  Terzo hadn’t been super helpful about the whole thing.  With romance on his brain he had started going on about all these elaborate scenarios featuring you and Copia.  Olympic themed dates and Olympic themed gifts.  

The Olympic themed wedding talk was the last straw and you had demanded he leave the room for a bit that night.  You knew he had planned on doing that anyway, Omega’s team was practicing and watching him play had become Terzo’s favorite new thing.  Well, that and fucking him probably.  So with the room empty it was time for you to do something you always did before events, especially after your accident at the last Olympic Games.  It just wasn’t something you enjoyed in any way, shape or form.    

You hated reviewing training footage.  It was frustrating going over your previous performances and pinpointing where you had made mistakes.  Where you had turned a triple axel into a double.  Where you’d missed the timing on a jump.  Where you’d stumbled on a landing.

Where you had fallen and nearly destroyed your career.

In your coach’s defense he never made you watch that one again.  Rewatching that was something you did on your own.  Terzo always hated it and would call it self destructive.  That was part of the reason you were alone in your room tonight.  He had seen you break out your laptop and left to meet Omega earlier than planned. 

You’d been surprised he wasn’t out with Copia celebrating his brother’s win but Terzo had said Copia wasn’t much for celebrating until the games were completely done.  Of course when that thought crossed through your mind you immediately blushed.  The memory of that night with him was something you had been replaying a lot, especially the ending and the deal you had made. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it you searched for the race he was in today, quickly hitting play when it came up.  Not surprisingly the announcers were talking about Copia most of the time.  Even if it wasn’t his last Olympics he was still the most well known athlete there, the most decorated.  You watched as he warmed up and briefly chatted with his fellow racers.  He looked so at ease, like he wasn’t about to race his heart out for one of the final times in his career.

You really envied him.  He had so much pressure on him but just looking at him smiling on the ice you would think it was just another day.  Even though you knew the result you found yourself holding your breath as everyone waited for the race to begin.  When they took off Copia easily got to the front, quickly putting distance between himself and the others.  The camera stayed on him and you got to see the muscles of his legs flex and move up close.  You could see the determination in his eyes, the lights in the arena reflected off both but especially the odd white one his family was all born with.

It was always strange to you when something so important, so pivotal to someone’s career was over in just a few moments.  Copia crossed the finish line with ease, one arm pumping briefly into the air as he flashed a dazzling smile to the crowd.  The camera panned briefly to where his brothers were seated.  Terzo looked ridiculous in his big faux fur coat but it made you smile to see Omega swing an arm over his shoulders.  There was more between your friend and the hockey captain than just an “Olympic Village fling”, that was obvious.

Primo looked proud like he always did, no matter how well his younger brothers did in their events.  Next to Primo, looking stern but proud, was Secondo.  He was dressed in one of his typical three piece suits, clapping and cheering with the crowd.  The camera soon panned away and back onto the ice.  Copia was standing patiently next to the second and third place winners but you kept noticing his eyes darting out into the stands.  You knew he had seen his brothers, family was always seated around the same area, so you were curious who he seemed to be looking for.  He almost looked disappointed after taking a final scan of the crowd before being ushered onto the podium. 

The thought crossed your mind briefly that he might have been looking for you but that was ridiculous.  While Terzo had invited you it had seemed a little too much to go watch Copia’s race.  You hadn’t really sorted out exactly what you were feeling towards him.  Obviously physical attraction but there was something else there, something that made your insides flutter when you thought about him. 

Watching him at the top of the podium, handsome and beaming as the gold medal was slipped over his head didn’t help.  He shook hands with the official that gave him the medal and then his fellow athletes before standing tall again.  The camera panned up to the Italian flag hanging higher than the others, only going back to Copia when his national anthem started playing. 

You watched as his lips moved, mouthing along to the lyrics being played.  His makeup was slightly smeared from sweat but it did nothing to detract from his handsome features.  When the music swelled he appeared to be full on singing, his throat bobbing as he did so.  Your mind went back to when you were walking to the dorms in the snow after watching him practice.  His shoulder knocking against yours, his coat warm over your stupid costume and the smell of his cologne embedding itself in your brain.

There was definitely something more there. 

An abrupt knock on the door had you pausing the video, the screen freezing right as Copia was looking directly into the camera.

“Who is it?”  After no one answered you focused back on the screen again but another set of knocks echoed through the room.  You groaned, figuring it might be Terzo trying to get back in.  The knocking continued as you unfolded your legs and hopped off your bed.  “Terzo I told you to make sure you had your key!”

You unlocked and flung the door open, ready to bitch at your friend some more but the face on the other side was not your roommate.

“Paperina.”  Copia’s eyes swept over you, making you immediately self conscious of the old, oversized sweats you were wearing.  “No feathers today?” 

“Not today, no.”  You fiddled with the zipper on your hoodie while you let your eyes wander over him.  He was wearing all black, a color that definitely suited him.  Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on how his tight jeans clung to his thighs and when you finally glanced up he was pleased as hell about it.  “Tomorrow is the short program.” 

“Are you ready?” 

While you desperately wanted to say no and that you were scared out of your mind you squared your shoulders and gave him the most convincing smile you could manage.

“Yes, yes I am.”  You both stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other.  After what seemed like an eternity you finally snapped.  “What is it?  I’m busy.”

“Are you?”  He pushed off from the door jam and looked around you into the room.  “Doesn’t seem like there’s much going on.” 

“I’m watching my old rout—hey!” 

Copia easily walked around you, strolling into the room like he’d been there a hundred times.  You glared at his back briefly before deciding to just shut the door.  When you turned your eyes looked on, horrified as you watched him look down at your laptop screen, a wild grin breaking out on his face.

“You know Paperina, you could have come today.”  He grunted as he dropped onto the bed, stretching out in front of your computer.  “I told Terzo to bring you.” 

“Like I said,”  You stomped over to your bed and grabbed your laptop away from him.  “I was busy.  Am busy.  So you should go.” 

Copia sighed as he rolled into his back and tucked his hands under his head. 

“I was a little disappointed you didn’t come.”    His admission had you freezing next to the little desk you were setting your laptop on.  “You could’ve seen the whole thing up close.”

“I told you—“

“Sí, sí.  Busy.  I can tell.”  He was grinning when you spun around to glare at him.  “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all night.” 

“I’m not cooped up, I’m getting ready for tomorrow.”

“Paperina, how many times have you done this routine?”  He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand.  “Watching old videos won’t help.”

“Yes, they do.  I can see where I messed up and fix it.” 

“Weren’t you there though?  You know where you made the mistakes already.  What does torturing yourself by watching them do?”

“It’s not torture!”

“Then what is it?”  His voice was gentle as he watched you, the concern evident as he spoke.  “How many times do you need to see them?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“You’re just going to be more nervous for tomorrow.”

“Look, you’re not my coach or a figure skater so don’t come in here trying to tell me how to prepare.”

“Ah yes, what do I know?  I just skate in circles.”  He groaned as he sat up, his eyes not leaving you.  “I do know that dwelling on past mistakes won’t help you.  No matter what sport you’re in.”

“Look, I need to watch them.”

“Paperina, you haven’t given me a good enough reason why.”

“Because I can’t fuck up again!”  Your eyes stung with the tears building up in them but it was too late to stop now.  It felt like the knot that had been building in your chest since the accident four years ago was finally unraveling.  “Copia, I can’t.  This is my last chance.  In four years I’ll be too old to compete against anyone here.”

You weren’t sure how long you stared at each other but it was long enough for your breathing to calm and your tears to fade.  As you were about to ask him to go he pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together. 

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!”

“Sí, I heard all the bullshit you told me.”  He looked around the room, letting out a little noise when he saw his coat hanging off your chair.  “We’re going out.”

“No, Copia I can’t.”

“What did you just say?   ‘This is your last chance’?  That means it’s also your last chance to enjoy yourself here.”

“I am enjoying myself.”  When he raised an eyebrow you groaned and shook your head.  “What would we even do anyway?”

“Celebrate.”  He gave you an exaggerated pout when you just stared at him.  “My gold medal isn’t a good enough reason to celebrate?  Coming with me is the least you could do Paperina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saved you a spot and everything.  Kept hoping I’d see you in the stands...”  Copia sighed dramatically and shook his coat out before he held it up for you.  “Remember what we talked about the other night?”

Hopefully the look on your face didn’t make it obvious you had been practically only thinking about that.

“We agreed on after our events.” 

“It is after an event though.”

“Yes, one event, Copia!  You have three more medals to compete for and I have two skate programs.”

“Just a small celebration then.”  You rolled your eyes when he pouted again.  “Per favore.” 

“How small?”

He grinned and tossed his coat at you before looking around the room.  He let out a triumphant noise when he saw your boots, grabbing them and thrusting them at you as well.

“Very small.  I know just the place.” 

“We can’t be gone long.”  He nodded as he rocked back on his heels.  “And no funny business.”

“Paperina, I will be completely serious.  I won’t even smile.” 

You snorted as you dropped your boots and shoved your feet into them.  His coat was next and it was as comfortable as you remembered when you pulled it on.

“So. Where are we going?”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Copia hadn’t stopped smiling as soon as you’d seen where he was taking you.  The building hadn’t been too far from the Olympic Village, a few blocks and you found yourself staring up at an old ice rink.  You looked on in disbelief as Copia walked up to the glass doors and peered inside.  The place was obviously closed but after a few knocks on the door an older man had come up to let you both in.

“You’ve got two hours Emeritus, that’s it.”

“Grazie, plenty of time.”  Copia turned and held his hand out for you.  “Paperina?”

Copia led you through the building, seemingly unbothered by the lack of lights.  His gloved hand was warm and in the dark you let yourself look down at it, trusting him to guide you where he wanted to go.  When he gave it a squeeze you looked up, noticing you were in front of the skate rental booth.

“Copia, what are we doing here?”

“What does it look like?”  He let go of your hand and walked around the counter, disappearing for a moment before coming back with an armful of ice skates.  “Here these should fit.”

“Ice skating is our job!  Why would you want to come here on your night off?”

“Because ice skating should be fun and you need to remember that.”  He came around the counter and took your hand again.  “When was the last time you had fun out on the ice?”

It was startling to you when your mind drew a blank.  Even the times you’d been out there practicing with Terzo all you remember feeling was stress.  You resisted when he tried to tug you towards the rink.

“What if we get hurt?”

“Don’t do any triple axels and I think you’ll be fine.”  When you stayed put as he tried to go to the rink again he sighed.  To your surprise he dropped his skates and turned around, coming right into your space and cupping your cheeks.  “Paperina, I promise that you will have fun.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, letting the heat from his hands and gloves warm your cheeks. 

“I want a pretzel.”

Copia let out a bark of laughter, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

“I think the concession stand is closed.” 

“That’s the price.  One pretzel.”

“Okie dokie.  I’ll see what I can do.” 

You ended up with two pretzels and that fluttering feeling in your chest getting worse. 

After banging around trying to first find the pretzels the next problem was sorting out how to heat them.  Copia had been attempting to get the little heater rack going when the owner had stomped over with an exasperated look on his face. 

“Really, Emeritus?”

“The lady is hungry!” 

The man had grabbed the two pretzels and disappeared into the back.  While he worked you and Copia had made your way to the rink, throwing your coats over the wall and sitting down to get your skates on.  They definitely weren’t as nice as you normally wore and you tried not to think of how clean they might be, but it was actually helping you relax a bit.  You hadn’t skated in a rink like this since you were a kid first taking lessons.  There was zero pressure here, just you and the ice.

Well…Copia and his thighs too.

It was unfair how good he looked in those jeans.  You tried not to stare but that only ended with your eyes wandering elsewhere.  He had some random band tee over a long sleeve shirt.  His gloves were still on as well as the dark gray scarf he’d been wearing since he showed up at your door.  He looked good, he probably looked good in everything.  He probably looked really good in noth—

“Here’s your damn pretzels.”

You grabbed them when the owner thrusted them in front of your face, setting one down next to you and biting into the other.  He and Copia appeared to be having a somewhat heated conversation but you chose to ignore it and focus on your food.  Copia was right, you needed to enjoy your time here.  And not just here at the rink but during the entire two weeks the Olympics were going on.  You were so lucky to have this chance and while you didn’t want to mess it up, you also wanted to look back on it fondly no matter what happened. 

“Okie dokie, two hours!” 

Copia plopped down next to you, grabbing the second pretzel and taking a bite. 

“Hey that’s mine!”

“These actually aren’t bad, Paperina.”  You took a big bite of your own and glared at him.  “Not going to help me get into my suit tomorrow but eh, oh well.”

“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.”  As soon as you realized what you said you froze, sneaking a glance at him and sighing when you saw his grin.  “Don’t.”

“You’ll look good too.  Bellissima.”  He shoved the rest of the pretzel in his mouth and then pulled the skates on.  “I can’t wait to see you in those feathers again.” 

“Wait, you’re coming?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  You hid your pleased smile by leaning down and getting the skates on although when you sat up he was still watching you.  “It’s the next event anyway, I’ll want to collect on our deal.” 

“Technically the short program is part of one event, one medal.  I still have the long program.” 

Copia walked in front of you and held his hands out, a gesture you were getting used to.  When he had pulled you up and helped steady you on the unfamiliar skates he leaned in closer, his handsome face taking up your vision.

“I think we can bend the rules a bit again, don’t you?”

Being on the ice with Copia was a blast.

While you both agreed on no racing or jumping it wasn’t long before you were squealing and shoving your way past him to get to the end of the rink first.  Luckily you were both still getting used to the new skates, in Copia’s case they were a lot different than his usual ones so it gave you a good advantage.  Your triumphant whoop at hitting the end of the rink before him was drowned out by you screeching when he grabbed you and dug his fingers into your sides.

“No!  Copi—ahh!  Stop, stop!”  You were laughing despite your frantic protests.  Finally pushing him away and out of reach.  “You’re just jealous I’m better on the ice than you.” 

“Paperina, if I had my regular skates on I’d be able to lap you twice before you hit the end.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, handsome.” 

You skated away so you wouldn’t have to see his smug grin but also to hide your blush.  There really wasn’t a point in hiding your attraction to him anymore, but that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy on him.  You were nearly half the rink away from him when you heard him coming up behind you.  The sounds of his blades sliding across the ice was loud and you weren’t surprised to see him blow by you.  But instead of turning the corner to show off his speed he suddenly threw his arms out and then leapt into the air, executing a near perfect jump, spinning and landing with a flourish. 

Copia stayed where he was as you skated up to him with a stunned look on your face.  You were both surprised and irritated he had managed to pull it off so well.  Of course you’d seen his brother do it plenty of times but that was his area of expertise.  Copia wasn’t a figure skater.

“How…how did you…?”

“Do you need me to show you how the move works?”  He held up his hands when you glared at him.  “I grew up with Terzo, Paperina.  I’d practice with him sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’ huh?”  You shook your head in disbelief, beginning to skate closer to him.  “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Kissing.”

His answer startled you enough you tried to stop and ended up losing your balance.  Copia’s hands shooting out and grabbing you around your waist were the only thing that kept you upright.  You found yourself placing your hands on his shoulders as his own slid further around you and rested at the small of your back. 

“Kissing?”

“Sí.  I’m terrible at it.” 

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.”  He nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing giving away the joke.  “You should try to get some practice in.”

“Will you help me, Paperina?”

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to shout yes.  But you really didn’t need to say anything, it was obviously what you both wanted right then.  You leaned in at the same time as Copia, your lips touching gently against each other for only a moment before the movements became more intense.  Copia kept one arm around your waist but the other he slid up to cradle the back of your head.  You wrapped your own arms around his neck and pushed your fingers into his hair.  When he urged your head to tilt to the side his mouth opened over yours and you let out a tiny moan when his tongue pushed inside.

As you flicked your own tongue against his you pressed yourself as close to him as possible.  Kissing on ice skates was definitely not ideal and you nearly bit his tongue when he tugged you closer and you almost fell.  Copia pulled away with a growl, both of his hands going down to grip your ass as he gently pushed you backwards.  You couldn’t take your eyes off his already swollen lips but when your back hit the side of the rink you glanced up to meet his mismatched gaze.

He took his hands off your ass and used one to cup your face, the other pressed against the concrete wall that was on one side of the rink.  It looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it, his mouth lowering once more to yours.  This kiss was immediately hot and dirty, your tongues fighting each other for some unknown prize.  A deep groan vibrated in his chest when you nipped and sucked on his and he pressed his body even harder against yours.  

When you started to lose your footing on the ice again Copia shoved his knee between your legs, pushing it against the wall.  He gripped your hips with both hands and lifted you, propping you up so his strong thigh was basically the only thing keeping you upright.  The muscle pressing against you and the heat from his leg along with the friction against your core had you whimpering into his mouth.  Copia pulled his mouth away from you and leaned his forehead against yours once more.

“I knew you’d be like this.”  He tugged your hips back and forth to rub you against him even more deliciously and you panted into his mouth.  “So responsive for me.  I bet you’re already wet too.”

“What about you?”  Copia groaned when you reached down and rubbed his hardening dick through his jeans.  “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

With a growl he kissed you again, nipping at your lips and tongue.  His mustache tickled your skin and you knew you’d have to apply extra makeup tomorrow to hide the redness.  Honestly you didn’t care what he did at the moment, you just wanted him to keep kissing you.  You had one arm wrapped around his neck for balance but you pushed your other hand back into his hair, scratching at his scalp and enjoying the way he groaned at the contact.  When Copia pulled one hand off your hip you expected to feel it delve into your own hair but instead his warm palm covered your breast and it was your turn to groan when he rubbed his thumb across your hardening nipple.

If it wasn’t for the sudden blast of music blaring across the speakers you probably would have let him fuck you right there on the ice.  Copia pulled away, a violent series of Italian curses falling from his lips.  Thankfully he helped keep you steady because at the moment your legs were in no shape to keep you on your feet.  You chose to cling to his shirt and bury your face in his chest to try to catch your breath as you felt him jerk his head around looking for the culprit.  When the music stopped you heard the voice of the owner over the intercom.

“Time’s up Emeritus!  Take the lady to bed at least!”   

You snorted against Copia, smiling when you heard him laugh too.  He was keeping a firm grip on you, one hand rubbing up and down your back when he felt you shiver.  It had little to do with the cold though.  Your body was still coming down from the pleasure that had built up inside of you and when you moved you could feel Copia was still slightly hard.  He hissed when you moved against him again.

“Quit that, we have an audience.”

“You started it.”

He laughed again, cupping your face so he could tilt it up and you could meet his eyes.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you.  Just “Oh Copia, yes Copia.  Hey!”  He barely caught his balance when you pushed him away, his arms flailing wildly as you started skating towards the exit.  You had just placed a hand on the wall to step out of the rink when he came up behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him so he could lean down and whisper into your ear.  “You will be saying that to me eventually, Paperina.  I promise you.”

He helped you step out of the rink, his hand not leaving the small of your back until you were at the bench where your things were.  Copia knelt down in front of you and batted your hands away so he could untie your laces and slip the skates off your feet.  You flexed them when they were free, happy to have them out of the unfamiliar skates.  When Copia took your right foot in his hand you gasped.  It turned into a quiet moan when he began to dig his thumbs into the sole and massage the tightness out.

“Oh!  Right there.”  You bit your lip to try to keep all the noises you wanted to make from escaping.  Copia’s fingers were magic, not that you should be surprised.  “Yes, Copia that’s perfect.”

“See?  Only took a few minutes.”  

When you realized what he meant you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics.  He switched to your other foot with a grin and gave it the same attention before finally pulling away to get his own skates off.  The owner was waiting for you at the front and thankfully didn’t say anything as you slipped by.  You knew your hair was probably a mess, not to mention how swollen your lips were.  At least the coat Copia had on was long enough to cover his crotch.  By how stiff he was walking it was obvious he was still a little hard and you smiled smugly as you walked ahead of him.

“You owe me Emeritus.”

“Sí, sí.”  Copia finished talking to the owner and then jogged to catch up with you, quickly grabbing your hand when he did.  You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him a bit, especially with the air having gotten colder.  “So, did you have fun?”

“It was ok.”  

When he gasped dramatically you tucked your head into his arm for a moment to try and warm up your nose.  He clicked his tongue and stopped, tugging at his scarf to release it.  When he started wrapping it around your neck you suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes.  The act felt intimate, much more so than what had just happened in the rink.  Copia leaned in to kiss your cold nose when he was done.

“I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon if you keep taking them all.”  You were about to respond when you noticed a familiar looking ribbon under the color of his shirt.  Copia caught you looking and smiled, grabbing it and then pulling it out so you could see.  The gold medal he earned that day shone under the streetlamp and you tentatively reached out to touch it.  “You don’t get this one, Paperina.”

“You’re right, I’ll be getting my own soon.”

He grinned, shoving the medal back under his shirt and then taking your hand again.  The walk back to the village was quiet.  The only sounds coming from the snow crunching under your shoes and the occasional conversations from people passing you by.  The lounge was still busy despite the hour and Copia kept you close as crowds of athletes moved around you both.  He didn’t let go of your hand when you got into the elevator or even when you got to the door of your room, giving it a quick squeeze as you shoved your key into the door.

“Is Terzo here?”

“No, he said he’d be staying with Omega tonight.”

“Ah, young love.”  You smiled, looking down at your hand in his until another squeeze had you meeting his eyes.  “Will you be ok by yourself, Paperina?”

“I will lock my door and not let any strangers in, I promise.”

“Tsk, that’s not what I meant.  I don’t want you ah, ‘reviewing the tapes’.”

You winced, feeling a little guilty because for some reason you had debated on doing that.  But no, Copia was right.  That wasn’t going to do you any good.

“Nope, straight to bed for me.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him in and the more you thought about it the more you wanted it to happen.  But it was already late and there was no way you’d get any sleep with Copia in bed with you.  He gave you a small smile before bringing his free hand to his mouth and tugging his glove off with his teeth.  When he was done he brought it to his scarf and started to tug it loose from your neck.  You thought he was going to pull it off at first but he just pushed it away enough so he could cup your cheek.  His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out and touch his skin.  Copia groaned and crowded you back against the door.

“I’m trying to be good and follow your rules here but you are making it very difficult.”

“You already broke the rules by coming here in the first place.”

“Eh, more like adjusted them a bit.”  He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes dropped to your own lips.  “It was worth it though, sÍ?”

“Yes, thank you for doing this.”  

Copia smiled and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll get to do this again tomorrow night, yeah?  After your event?”

“I told you, it’s just the short program.  There’s no medal tomorrow.”

“But it’s important.  Right?”  When you nodded he cocked his head to the side for a moment.  “Fifth place or better.”

“What?”

“Your scores, if you get fifth place or better we’ll have another date.”  

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded.  Fifth place or higher would put you in a good position before your long program later in the week.  Your combined scores, as long as you skated well, would put you in contention for a medal.  You desperately wanted gold but you were starting to realize any medal would be amazing.  A great achievement after your injury and the long recovery.  You just wanted on that podium, that’s all.  It was doable and after tonight with Copia you felt like you’d make it up there.

As long as you skated well.

“Fifth place or better.  I can do that.”

“You will do that, Paperina.”  He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.  “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“Oh, Copia no.  You don’t have to do that.”

“I actually do, Primo is making me.  Ai!”  He grunted when your fist connected with his shoulder, laughing and grabbing your hand when you tried to do it again.  His mustache tickled the back of it when he dropped a kiss there.  Copia grinned as he dropped your hand, reaching out to tap the tip of your nose.  “Besides, there’s something important I have to see.”

“Yeah?  What’s that?”

He moved back a few steps and winked, the grin still fixed on his face.

“Those feathers in action.”

To say you were worried was an understatement.

You just needed to get above fifth, that’s all.  Fifth or higher and you had a chance just like Copia had said, just like you had been repeating in your head all morning.  Hardly anyone came back from a lower place than that after the short program.  It’s not that you would give up if you got below fifth, but getting a medal at these games would be near impossible at that point.  So.  Fifth or better.  

Terzo had managed third, a fact that he had been crowing about since it happened.  The men had skated that morning and while you should have been practicing you ignored your coach’s recommendation and came to watch Terzo perform.  Omega and Secondo both had games that morning so it had been just you and Primo.  The eldest brother had probably been the loudest out of anyone else in the crowd as Terzo worked his ass off skating to his music.

To the surprise of no one Terzo had chosen an ABBA song.

“Paperina, you look nervous.”

At Copia’s voice you jumped, nearly losing your balance.  He reached out and grabbed your hands, not letting go until you were steady again on your feet.  You quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen you but thankfully everyone was busy either talking to the skater that had just performed or cleaning the rink.  When you looked back at Copia he was grinning.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to come.”

“Yes but you should be in the stands, not back here.”  He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, reaching out and fingering one of the feathers at your waist.  You had another quick look around, wincing when you saw your coach glaring at you.  “Quit that.”

He hissed when you slapped his hand away from your costume and shoved his hands into his pockets.  A reporter sidled closer and you sighed.  It would have been easy to spot Copia even if he wasn’t wearing a bright green, white and red tracksuit that didn’t say Italy all over it.  You wondered what story the reporter would come up with.

“Remember, fifth or higher.”  

“Yes, yes I know.”

“But first is better, yeah?”  He brought a hand up to his neck and pulled his medal out from yesterday, the gold catching on all the bright lights in the arena.  “You see?  Gold.”

“It’s not actually gold you moron.”  The reporter was definitely interested now and you noticed another one whose interest had been piqued.  “Put that thing away.”

“Fine, fine.  You’ll be begging to see it later though.”  

“I will scratch your eyes out if you wink at me again.”

“You’re very aggressive, Paperina.  Is it the nerves?”  He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back.  “What do you have to be nervous about?  You’re going to do amazing.”

You stopped glaring at the reporters and met Copia’s eyes.  His gaze was steady as he watched you, his thumb still rubbing your hand.  He was wearing gloves like usual, these ones black leather and the material was warm against your cold skin.  You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders.

“I’m not nervous.”  He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze before letting go.  “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”  

You nodded, trying to give him a confident smile and hoping you pulled it off.  When you glanced back out over the ice it was empty and the announcers were gearing up for your routine.  Your coach popped up in the corner of your eye and took a deep breath trying to clear your head.  This was it.  You hadn’t spent years preparing for this to blow it at the last moment.  Before you headed over to your coach you looked back at Copia and tried to give him a confident smile.

“Wish me luck.”

“I would say ‘break a leg’ but that would be very bad, don’t do that.”  He just laughed when you glared at him.  Copia took a quick look around before stepping forward so no one else would hear him.  “I want to celebrate with you later, Paperina.  Don’t mess it up.”

You sighed when you heard a few cameras click, knowing they caught the intimate moment.  Copia didn’t seem to care, turning to give the photographers a smile before looking back at you.  The announcers called your name and your coach came up to urge you toward the rink.  With one last look at Copia you moved away and took a deep steadying breath.

Messing up wasn’t an option, you wanted to celebrate with him too.

You ended up third.

When the music had ended and you stood out there in your final position you had been so overcome with emotion.  So much hard work, so many long hours and now it was finally over with.  Well, at least the short program was.  You’d be back out there for the long skate in a few days.  That was something to worry about later though, preferably tomorrow.  Tonight you planned on celebrating and pushing all your other worries out of your mind.

You also planned on burning this damn costume too.

As flowers and stuffed animals rained down on the ice you eagerly skated off and were quickly whisked away by your coach.  Then came the usual song and dance of watching the judges post your scores, more screaming and crying and finally giving a few interviews to the various reporters milling about.  By the time you were done with it all the last skater had competed and you had gotten the confirmation about your third place finish.  The sense of relief you felt followed you all the way to the locker room where you quickly threw your track suit over your costume, grabbed your things and headed out.

Right as you were messing with your phone to try and see where Terzo had gone off to a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you were lifted off the ground.

“Amica mia!  You did it!”  You let Terzo swing you around a bit before spinning in his arms and hugging him back.  “I told you!”

Your emotions were getting the best of you so you just clung to your friend a little tighter for a moment, feeling so thankful for him.  You didn’t let go until a throat cleared nearby and when you looked to who had made the noise you were met with Copia’s pleased smile.

“Well done Paperina.”  You smiled back, fighting the urge to run into his arms.  Your adrenaline was still high from performing and it felt like electricity was sparking along your skin.  With Copia’s eyes on you the feeling was even stronger.  “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you Copia.”  When he pulled an arm from behind his back you felt your cheeks pink at the rose he held in his hand.  You pulled away from Terzo and shyly walked over to take it from Copia’s fingers, your own twitching a bit when they made contact with his warm gloves.  “Did you buy this or pick it up off the rink?”

“I stole it from that idiot that got first.”  He grinned when you rolled your eyes.  “Should’ve been you, Paperina.”

“What did you call her?”  Copia shot his brother a glare and you turned around to look at Terzo.  “Paperina?”

“Zitto, Terzo!”

“Wait, what’s going on?”  You looked from brother to brother, Terzo looked on the verge of laughter while Copia just continued to glare at him.  “It’s just because of my costume, Terzo.  Swan Lake.”

“SÍ, but Paperina doesn’t me–hey, what the fuck?!”  Terzo snarled at Copia after being hit in the head with the stuffed bear.  “She’ll find out eventually!”

“Find out what?”  When neither brother said anything you growled and walked over to your things.  “Whatever, I’m going back to my room.”

“No, wait!”  You stopped when Terzo called out, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a sheepish look.  “I was actually hoping to have the room to myself tonight.”

“Oh come on!  Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

Both you and Terzo turned to stare at Copia when he cleared his throat.  

“You can stay with me, Paperina.”  There was that fluttering again, your heart feeling like it was skipping a beat or two.  He wandered over to where the bear had landed and then came to exchange it for your gear bag.  “Didn’t I say we’d be celebrating?”

Copia’s mouth was latched onto your neck before the door to his room was closed.

“No, no–ah!  No marks.  Not where people can see them.”  

He pulled away with a growl, capturing your mouth again instead.  As his tongue roughly toyed with yours he brought a hand to your thigh and lifted your leg up to wrap around his waist.  It gave him enough room to start grinding against you, his sweatpants doing little to hide his hard cock.  You whimpered when it pressed between your legs, the thin material of your tights doing little to block yourself from him.

“I could probably sink into you right now, couldn’t I?”  You nodded weakly, thunking your head back against the door when he ground even harder against you.  “I could rip these tights open and have you screaming my name.”

“Yes!  Copia please.”  

You could see him smirking through your half lidded eyes, the intense pleasure of him rubbing against your cunt making it hard to keep them open.  His hands started fiddling with your skirt, the feathers rustling as he pushed it higher up your stomach.  

“Will you be wearing this again?”

“What?”  You blinked at his question, not sure what he was getting at.  “What do you mean?”

“I’m about to rip it off of you, is that ok Paperina?”  He was barely done with his question before you were vigorously nodding your head.  With a growl he had his hands at the top of your tights and the room filled with the sound of ripping fabric.  You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed flesh, moaning when he dragged a bare finger through your cunt.  “Cazzo, so wet for me already.”

He added a second finger, rubbing them up and down between your lips.  The slick sounds of them moving seemed so loud you were worried that anyone walking down the hallway would hear it.  When they teased at your entrance you let out a loud gasp, a loud bang echoing around you when your head fell back against the door again.

People would definitely have heard that.

“You are so responsive, so beautiful.”  The tips of his fingers pushed into you slightly before pulling out.  He repeated the motion over and over again, going deeper each time.  “I can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.”

“Then do it.  I want it.”

Copia growled and slammed his mouth against yours right as he pushed his fingers in as far as they’d go.  You moaned into his mouth, thankful that it muffled you at least a little bit.  His fingers worked in and out of you hard and fast as he kissed you heatedly.  You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, pushing up on your toes a bit so the angle of his thrusting fingers was a little better.  He started rubbing them harder against your inner walls, catching at the spot inside of you that had you pulling away from his mouth and nearly wailing in pleasure.

“Just this tonight, we still have a few events left after all.”  He kissed you again, this time the kiss a little softer but no less passionate.  As his fingers on one hand continued to fuck you he brought his other hand close and started rubbing his thumb against your clit.  “It will be worth the wait.”

“It bet–oh, oh it better be.”

“Trust me, Paperina.  I’ll make sure it is.” 

You couldn’t do anything else but nod, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable as you reached your peak.  He knew exactly how to work you, exactly when to apply more pressure and where.  Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as your climax hit, your mouth open in a mostly silent cry against his shoulder.  It took a few moments for you to come back to yourself and when you did it was to Copia making quiet moaning sounds.

When you blinked your eyes open you looked down to see his hand flying over his cock.  The sight of it had more little thrills of pleasure rippling through you.  He whispered your name and you looked back up at his face, meeting his odd eyes.  You slipped a hand off his shoulder and moved it down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the head as he continued to pump his shaft.  His moans became louder as you both worked him over until his cock twitched between you, his hot cum shooting out the tip.

Copia cursed quietly in Italian as you stroked him through it, making sure every last drop left him.  It had dripped onto his pants and you noticed streaks across the feathers of your costume.  You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the sight, instead moving to press a deep kiss into Copia’s lips.  He hummed happily into your mouth as you tangled your tongue with his briefly before pulling away, his lips curled up in a familiar smug smile.  You glanced down at yourself and his eyes followed, looking over the ripped tights and the cum stained feathers.  When he let out a wistful sigh you put a finger on his chin to tip his head back up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Paperina.”  He shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose.  “I’m just going to miss this costume.”

Part Two Coming Soon! (leave me a comment if you'd like to be tagged 💙)

I wrote a little ficlet describing Terzo and Omega's meeting as well: Shooting His Shot

A/N: Did I write this because I became obsessed with the thought of Copia's thick thighs in a tight speed skating outfit? Yes, obviously. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to see more from this little universe💙

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[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[bratdotcom]

Stay (The Hell Away from me)

( Billy Butcher x reader || neighbor!au, soft angst, Billy is caught yearning, good ending ♡ )

“You know I can’t stay long, luv. Ye know how it is.” Butcher sighs through his teeth, holding, almost gripping onto his phone. He can feel you hesitate to speak, your side of the line going quiet as you decide what to say. He could picture it clearly in his mind, as if you were right in front of him.

“I just want to see you, Billy.” You reply, leaning your cheek against the screen of your phone. God you missed him. How long has it been since the last time you saw him? Days blurred into weeks, weeks turned into months. Months and months of radio silence.

Butcher juts out his lower lip as he thinks of what to do. Endless possibilities leave his mind, in one ear, out the other. All of them end in him leaving you. But he couldn’t bear to do that. You could’ve just left him for dead on your street, but you didn’t. It’s been a while since he’s met someone as genuinely kind as you.

The world you both lived in was fucked, and Butcher didn’t know if you knew that or not but you made living more bearable for him.

Fuck it.

He sighs again. “I’ll be there in ten.” he says, one of his hands readily grabbing onto the wheel. He puts his phone on speaker as he places it onto the passenger’s seat, wanting to hear your voice one last time before he sees you in person.

You smile, even though he can’t see you. “I’ll be waiting.” you say, promptly hanging up after.

He arrives at your back door, rough knuckles gently knocking against its flimsy screen. Butcher unknowingly sneers as he waits on your back porch. The screen itself looked half-done, barely being kept in place by a rusty-looking metal door frame. He could probably do a better job drunk than whoever the hell installed your screen door.

Maybe one day, he’d come by with his tools, offering to fix your door as an excuse to see you again. Maybe you’d offer him lemonade as a way of saying thank you.

Knowing you, the lemonade would probably be more sweet than his liking, With sugar decorating the rim of the glass.

He’d bear through it. If it meant he could see you.

You finally open the door, hugging him immediately after. He freezes up, not expecting you to hug him so quickly. Your hands run up the sleeves of his trenchcoat, your arms wrapping around the collar. Already, you were caring for him. Without even realizing it.

“I missed you.” you say softly, resting your head against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, every little rise and fall of his breath. His hands gently rested against the small of your back, Butcher was genuinely scared of hurting you.

“I missed ya too, luv.” he says back, the usual gruffness in his tone softening.

Shrugging off his coat and putting his boots near the door, Butcher follows you to your living room. The couch creaks under his weight. He watches as you hand up his coat, leaning against the couch cushions.

As soon as you turn around, he pats his thigh, inviting you to sit in his lap. He wished he could grow used to this. Hell, wanted to grow used to this.

Eagerly, you sit down, wrists perched against his broad shoulders as you kiss his lips. Butcher melts into the kiss, leaning in with his hands resting on your hips.

He tilts his head, the coarseness of his beard rubbing against your chin.

Butcher pulls away for air, a stupid smirk on his face as he sees you catch your breath. “Missed me that much, eh luv? Outta breath all because of me?” he teases, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

“Shut up.” you say back, and he does that. You lean in for more, his hands scoot you closer to him by the hips. Being the man that he is, he pulls away in between kisses to make even more comments. “Can’t get enough of me, huh? Look at you, all desperate f’me like you’ve never kissed anyone else but me before. It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here for ya.” Butcher was admitting things he didn’t even realize he was saying, they came naturally to him.

He was saying things he’d probably admit after at least five shots of jack, things he’d probably never tell to your face.

And yet here he was, saying these things. While having you in his lap.

Pulling away and looking up at him, your eyes soften. “You really mean it?” You ask, mindlessly fiddling with the chain around his neck.

“I..” for a moment, he hesitates to reply. He's pushed away so many people in his life that he was scared of pushing you away too.

“I do.” He says, looking back at you with the most sincerity you've ever seen in his eyes.

“I really do mean it, luv.

[borealalice]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

[moonshynecybin]

16 + rosquez + extra smooches if its in the canon timeline

16. accidental i love yous during sex.

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dante... okay so these guys are such crazy asses who hate vulnerability that i think the only way this would happen is through them accidentally psychically BEAMING i love you at the other via eye contact during insane sex and the other somehow recieving that message. telepaths only. like they are PR merchants they love to choose their words if this is post-break up it will nottttt be an accident..... and i thought about doing pre-sepang but that made me SAD ! anyways this beat my ass. bon apetit

“I love, ah, you are just—“ Vale says as Marc sinks down on him, palms braced on the hot center of his chest. “Christ, the way you take it.”

Marc hitches himself a little further onto Vale’s dick, taking a breath in, and letting it out slowly. He’s all the way in, now. He closes his eyes. They haven't done this —Marc on top– since before everything. He needs a second.

“— You are going to kill me,” Vale groans, hands tender on Marc’s skin. A possessive hand high on the side of his thigh, sliding Marc’s knee forwards on the bed— managing his position, a little. “Okay?”

Marc nods, sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. It's a lot. 

Vale pulls his own leg up a few inches, looking for leverage and finding it— and the movement tugs at Marc’s slick hole, drags hotly against his prostate, a zip of indescribable feeling that makes him shiver and jolt, stomach jumping. Bright pleasure snakes its way through him, cutting away at everything else.

Vale sees it hit him and curves a smile Marc’s way, lifting a hand to grip Marc’s ass and keep him where he wants him, the other skating the curve of his side and feeling the muscles work. “Better?”

Words don't— he whines, digging his fingers into Vale’s shoulder, and arches his back obscenely, grinding back onto Vale. It is better, and he wants more, chasing that angle.

“Greedy,” Vale laughs, and Marc nods, lip still caught between his teeth. He's sure it’s white with pressure at this point. He starts to move, getting a rhythm going, putting some power into his thighs, thick cock dragging smoothly inside him. He hears Vale’s throat click.

“You were gone too long.” He finally answers, probably too truthfully—  It's been two weeks, since they’ve seen each other, and Marc has spent the entire evening on edge, waiting for the academy guys to clear out so he can get Vale to himself, spread out so nicely on the bed for him, pulling Marc onto his cock with a hand on his ass.

“You missed it,” Vale gasps, as Marc drives down with a twist of his hips. It’s not a question. “You needed it,”

“Yeah,” Dragged out of him like it hurts, dick rubbing the skin of Vale’s abdomen. Vale flexes up, twitching into Marc, and Marc has to squeeze his eyes shut at the feeling. He leans forwards, legs trembling, and lands a hand on Vale’s chin, directing him. Lazy blue eyes snap to his. He just, he needs— 

“Watch me,” Marc asks, rolling his hips, and he’s on top but he feels like the one that’s pinned, split open, held down by the hands on him. He flexes his pelvis, legs spread wide, and Vale spasms, thumb digging hard into bone. He’ll have bruises tomorrow, happy reminders. 

Marc had asked for attention, and Vale gives it to him, eyes roaming over him— a captive audience. His face is open, his eyes lidded— his gaze lingers on Marc’s face, his chest, the cut of his abs, his dick, red and drooling between his legs,his hole, where Vale is holding him open. Marc gives him a second— he knows he’s a picture. 

He spreads his legs and puts on a show. 

Vale’s brow furrows as Marc picks up the pace, and a soft sound punches out from him. Marc’s lips twitch, of course Vale catches it, and he answers with a grin of his own, throwing a joke out as he catches his breath. Hot amusement fills Marc up, sweet as honey.

“You can really ride, eh?” Is what Vale goes with— always happy to bring a double meaning to a phrase.

“That’s what they tell me.” Marc laughs, breathless when Vale gets his knees under him and fucks upwards, hands a gentle counterpoint cupping his waist, devastating. “World champion.”

He looks at Vale. Absorbs his face, the laughter lines there, leftover from their joke— the track of his eyeline trails over Marc’s body, genuine happiness making him boyish, curls askew from where Marc had dragged his fingers through it earlier. His face is open, as unguarded as Marc’s seen it. Rapt.

I love you, Vale’s eyes say. I love you, and it’s unmistakable. Hits Marc like a bullet.

Marc stops moving, realization gossamer in his mind, chest heaving. Vale’s hips jerk once, involuntary, dragging a choked sound out of Marc, before they stop as well.

“Are you okay?” Vale asks, panting, worry coloring his voice. He tries to sit up and Marc leans on him, palms to his chest, holding him to the bed, leveraging his strength. He doesn’t usually do that in bed, content for Vale to do the manhandling—and it makes Vale look up at him with wide,  confused eyes.

“I love you.” Marc says, intent, holding onto Vale’s gaze with both hands. Holding him in his palms. He has to know, at this point, after everything, but they’ve never said it, and a frightful need to verbalize the feeling rises up in him, overwhelming. 

There's a second as Vale’s face does something complicated, expressions flashing in quick succession, tight concern giving way to surprise. There's a moment of silence. There’s a bolt of fear. Maybe he read him wrong.

And then he smiles like the dawn breaking, and Marc is flying.

“I love you.” Vale answers. Like he means it.

“You love me?” Now that Marc’s heard it once, he reaches for it again. Greedy, Vale had said.

Vale’s cock is still snugged up inside him, an undeniable pressure. He clenches, watches Vale’s chest hitch.

“I love you,”

He starts to move, watches Vale’s eyes flutter, watches him make a low sound, dropping his hands to Marc’s thighs and giving them a slight squeeze.

“I love you.”

Marc leans forwards, hips still working, and kisses Vale, messy. He can’t stop saying it, thinking it, asking it.

“You love me,”

Their breath is fast now, frantic, caught in the moment with each other, and he answers. Every time Marc asks, he answers, the feeling huge between them, indisputable as Vale reaches for Marc’s cock, leans up to gasp into his mouth, kissing him hard and messy. Two jerky strokes, and Marc comes, crying out, dripping onto Vale’s stomach.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Vale sounds desperate, intense. His hands are everywhere, his hips stutter.

“I love you.” Marc’s not even sure if he’s asking or saying anymore, repetition becoming religion, legs still working, thighs trembling as he rises and falls, that edge of too-much that he enjoys so much coming into play. Sunlight streams in through the curtains, and Vale locks up when he comes, clutching at Marc's skin, breathing deep and fast against his neck.

“I love you.”

[little-diable]

Stream - Finan x Reader x Sihtric (smut)

Besties, y'all need to hype this up, since there aren't many active TLK readers on here currently. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, the three of them fuck in a stream close to Winchester, set in S2E6

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected vip, handjob, sex in the stream so somewhat public

Pairing: Finan x fem!reader x Sithtric (1.2k words)

Winchester was busy, people kept running around, chatting about the upcoming wedding of Æthelred and Æthelflæd, excited about the following celebrations, all too oblivious to the danger waiting ahead. (Y/n) was sitting on the stairs in front of Finan and Sihtric, not sparing much attention to the words Æthelwold tried to share with Uhtred. She had her shoulders pressed against Finan’s knees, eyes closed to enjoy the way her lover kneaded her aching shoulders, trying to work on the pain lingering inside her body. 

“Come, the king’s waiting.” (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open to follow Uhtred’s frame disappearing, giving the others a few moments of silence. While the monk that had found its way to them moments ago now disappeared within the crowd, Æthelwold also left the others behind, probably finding comfort in the nearest alehouse.

“So, what shall we do?” Finan’s voice echoed through the air, eyes flickering between (y/n) and Sihtric. A smile tugged on the woman’s lips, rising to her feet with a small groan rumbling through her. 

“How about a bath? We should make use of the calmness before it escalates, and I think we all know it won’t take long for something to happen.” With both her hands reached out for her two lovers to take, (y/n) dragged them through the city, mind set on a nearby stream she had found the last time they'd been here. 

“I think our lady here is just trying to get us out of our leather.” Sihtric’s laugh overpowered the clicking of (y/n)’s tongue, slightly shaking her head as she let go of their hands, coming to halt in front of the stream. The water looked all too clear in the sun, shielded from any curious eyes, giving them the calmness their minds had been aching for. 

The three of them started undressing, eyes shut to enjoy the cold water clinging to their bodies, washing away the dirt and sweat of the past days. For a few moments none of them dared to speak up, basking in one another’s company, in the sweet sounds of nature, and the quiet stories the rushing by water told. 

Finan’s wandering hands started to break the peace, pulling (y/n) against his chest to press a few kisses against her now cool skin. A soft moan broke through the female warrior, eyes still closed to focus on her lover’s touch, not noticing the look of mischief Finan shot Sihtric, watching him move closer. Sihtrics hands moved up her sides, cupping her breasts to leave a few kisses along them, softly sucking on her hardening nubs. 

Her eyes fell open, eyes catching Sihtric’s glistening ones, not breaking eye contact once, not even as Finan’s hand found its way between their bodies, cupping her heat. She was dripping for her lovers, desperate to be filled by them, to pleasure one of them with her hand, while the other would take her like they’d done hours ago, in the quiet hours of the night. 

“Your body’s aching for us, eh?” She could only moan to reply to the words Finan murmured into her ear, skilled fingers brushing through her folds. With trembling fingers (y/n) found Sihtric’s chin, pulling him up to meet her lips in a teeth-clashing kiss, tongues battling for victory. (Y/n)’s moans and the satisfied groans of her lovers broke the calmness of the afternoon, echoing through the air as if they were holding their own celebration, clinging to one another in hopes of being able to stay like this forever. 

“Need you, please, I need more.” Her words were murmured against Sihtric’s lips, making a smirk widen on them. 

“You hear that, Finan? So desperate for us.” Sihtric pressed one last kiss against her lips before his eyes met Finan’s, wordlessly communicating their next movements. Her hand was brought to Sihtric’s twitching cock, while Finan brushed his through her folds from behind, coating himself in her arousal. She was pulled in for another bruising kiss as Finan pushed into her from behind, forcing her walls to spread. 

Trembling hands struggled to pump Sihtric’s cock, mind and body distracted by the feeling of Finan taking her from behind. Sihtric’s hand helped her move, unable to bite down his smirk as he watched her tremble between them, still not used to being touched like that, even after months of sharing her body and soul with the two men. 

“I bet the gods are jealous of me right now, what a sight.” Heat flushed through her at Sihtric’s words, unable to pick up on the words Finan murmured, swallowed by the moan breaking through the man. Her walls clenched around his cock, already close, not able to drag out the moment much longer. 

Sihtric’s cock twitched in her grasp, head rolling back to expose his neck further to her wandering eyes, enjoying the way she tightened her grip on him. The three lovers were a tangled mess of moans and groans, unable to hold back as they pushed themselves further and further towards the edge, about to cum together. 

(Y/n) was the first to let go, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm rocked through her, forcing her to struggle with the pumping motion of her hand, needing Sihtric’s help once again. The men followed her down the edge moments later, cum painting her walls and her stomach white, leaving their stain on her as if it was the first time they were claiming her. All three of them were heavily panting, clinging to one another for a few more moments before they parted, desperate for another dip. 

“I love you.” Sihtric whispered the words as he pulled (y/n) in for a kiss, not letting her go yet, unable to trust her quivering limbs. She replied the loving three words with her hand cupping his cheek, laughing in surprise as Finan picked her up, pulling her away from Sihtric to squeeze her sides, forcing another love confession from her lips, desperate to word out the way he loved her. 

And with the sun burning down on the three lovers, they found some peace in its warmth and company, momentarily able to forget about the struggles laying ahead.

[danandphilplay]

ok last sims poll for a minute lol

i believe this poll has been done before and i know if u google dan and phil sims reddit a post comes up telling people to stop discussing how they play (as well as other posts from people talking about whether they like dnps sims gameplay style)

now in my opinion i believe u should be able to discuss any content ur fav creators make and i don’t think discussions should be restricted i think you should be able to just be like yeah love dnp but this content isn’t for me

as long as you aren’t being straight up mean to dnp or anyone in the phandom and like you keep stuff about them playing ‘wrong’ lighthearted then i genuinely see no issue with this discussion. i fear that is basic decency but ,,,

anyway my dnp sims thoughts are below

i don’t think they play the game wrong bc there’s no specific way to play and actually i find their sims series refreshing bc i always get fixated on building and CAS that i end up playing so quickly. i just hit gen 26 of my almost 2 year save file and sometimes i just extend the family so i can make a new build or make new outfits so watching dnps series is nice bc i feel like theres a lot more world/story building,, their sims kinda have personalities to them which i feel i ignore in my game bc i focus on building or CAS.

but i will say yesterdays vid when they kept saving and exiting CAS and making each sim open a wardrobe rather than doing the entire household at once ,,,, a LITTLE bit grating. but then i have to remind myself its for youtube so that probably added in a bit of time waiting for those slowww slow loading screens.

and i think some people genuinely find their gameplay too slow to watch which is fair enough i rly don’t see issue with expressing that you don’t like some of their content (whether that’s related to dnp or the specific game like generally not liking the sims). i’ll truthbomb that i don’t care about their heartthrob videos and that’s fine. i’ll still watch the vids it’s just when it drops i’m kinda like eh about it

[yestrday]

hii!!

dk if you write for alhaitham (if not diluc is okay), but for the humiliation prompts, can we please see him beg? thank you!!

ANOTHER BEG PROMPT.... there was so many but all yall wanna see is them begging... whats up guys... whatsup... also, this is way more tame and fluffy than the others hehe. surprise surprise!

part of an ongoing event!

╰┈➤ ALHAITHAM admonishing instruction.

"... you know i'm your senior, right? you ought to have more respect for me."

your junior tears his gaze away from his book and regards you for a second.... before returning back to reading. you can feel your eye twitch at his blatant disrespect. stupid haitham and his stupid handsome face! you would've hated him sooner if it wasn't for those archon-sculpted features, but instead you find yourself at an impasse between wanting to clock him and kissing him.

"haitham, please!" you yell impatiently. "we need to get this paper done today! i don't have any other time this week!"

"just do what you can do right now and i'll finish it up later," haitham cooly says. "it won't be optimal if i write with you and you nitpick at every detail."

"i know damn well you'll just rewrite everything if you do that," you huff. "come on, haitham. just cooperate with me this once! exactly what could be so interesting about that book to have you this invested?"

if he were any older, haitham might have deflected the question like it was second nature. but this haitham was just little into his late teens, more inexperienced in dealing with others, and more awkward than he'd like to admit. you eye him interestedly when he freezes up and the knuckles on his book tense. "nothing," he says, too stiffly for persuasion. "none of your concern."

... time to strike.

a wolfish grin makes its way on your face. "you know, when people say that something's 'nothing,' then it's probably worth reading." you lean on the table with your hands cupping your face, eyes watching his whole body stiffen under your gaze. "what's this 'nothing,' eh, sweet junior of mine?"

he averts his eyes from you, and your eyes sparkle at this newfound weakness. before he can even have a chance to react, you swiftly pluck the book out of his hands and open to the page he's been staring so hard at.

... i'm having a difficult time focusing whenever i'm near my senior. they're intelligent, but they're terribly irritating, and their voice is grating on my ears. recently, we've been paired for a paper, and it's hard to concentrate whenever they're breathing down my neck about some nuisance or another. i'm above such base perversion... or i'd like to think so. but these nights i can't sleep without—

"e-enough!" haitham hissed, reaching for the book before you hide it between your thighs. his hand stutters and retreats before he touches such an... inappropriate place, and you send him another shit-eating grin. "[y. name], this is highly disrespectful—!"

"oh?" you raise a brow at him, leaning on the table as you rest your cheek on your fist. "so now you want to talk about respect. especially when you were the one writing such filthy things about me in your little diary." you squish the leather-bound thing between your things, and haitham gulps when he glances nervously at it. "maybe if you beg me, i'll give it back to you, hm?"

he turns scarlet, in anger or in embarrassment you don't know, but it's an interesting color on him. you watch eagerly as his mouth gawps open, lips forming words he can't bring himself to vocalize. after a brief internal struggle, he seems resigned. "[y. name], please, just give me—"

you lean back in dissatisfaction. "[y. name]?" you echo incredulously.

he swallows— both spit and pride— and clenches his fists in his lap. "senior... p-please... give it back..."

you cock your head teasingly. "hm? give what back?"

"the- the diary. please." he forces himself to meet your gaze, and for once you don't see the haughty star student but a bashful boy caught red-handed. "please give it back."

"oh, this?" you take it out from between your thighs, taking notice of how his eyes shake as he fixes his gaze on it. you wave it languidly in front of him. "this diary that you write your fantasies about your senior?"

he gulps, and nods hesitantly. you bark out a laugh and stand. honestly, who knew it'd be this easy to bring the great haitham down to his knees before you? your body reaches over the table, nose brushing against his, before you slide the journal between his fingers.

"honestly," you tease his ears with your breath. "you should be more straightforward with me next time. seniors are meant to help their juniors, no matter how rude they may be."

and when you nip the shell of his ear, haitham hopes that you don't hear the whine he had accidentally let out.

[solarwoniii]

" ˋ꒰ what if !? ꒱ " - ft. choi yeonjun

[ nsfw post! minors please do not interact. there are many other posts on my and other’s blogs which are much more suitable for your consumption! ]

syn. if there's one thing you can't do, it's swim. so, when you almost drown at a business get-together, your parents decide its about time they got you into swimming lessons. little do they know, the polite young man who they hired to teach their sweet and innocent daughter had intentions, which would lead her to question 'what if?'

a/n. LOOK AT ME GOOOO FIRST FIC IN LIKE FOREVER?? if this flops i will literally cry omg pls excuse my writing i have only just started getting back into this recently ehe... pls give me reblogs and feedback it will give me the motivation i need to keep going okay ty enjoy

cw. pool sex, not rly public but risky stuff, tutor x tutee, mentions of drowning, somewhat of plot building here, rough/rushed, vvv affectionate stuff, secret relationship, very subby reader w/ dom yeonjun, pet names (princess, baby, ect.), heavy praise, i think that's all but please do let me know if i missed anything!

your head was spinning with ‘what ifs’. you whimpered at the painfully pleasureful feel of yeonjun putting his hands on your hips, his grip strong enough to leave reddening nail marks on your tender skin as he lifted you off of his length, only to let your entire body drop back down with a harsh slam. he smirked at the way you reacted to the feeling of the battering intrusion, a shuddering gasp escaping your partially parted lips at the way he stretched your core out with ministrations similar to that of an ever-racing train, spinning out of control as it runs head-first off of its tracks.

you had almost drowned six months ago at one of your parents' business celebrations, and probably would have died if the man before you hadn't dove into the water, pulled you out into the surface and resuscitated you.

since then, your parents had been worried sick for you and any other encounters with a body of water, they'd always known you couldn't swim, but they hadn't thought that it was that bad. so, of course, they had done what any worried caretaker would do, and exchanged information with the boy, once finding out that he was in fact a swim tutor himself. it would be much better than hiring a stranger, and this man seemed to be quite the well-rounded boy, considering he the son of their closest business partner. not only did he have outstanding grades, but he was respectful and he was around your age. so, what harm could he possibly do to their sweet daughter?

a lot.

and you knew that now, after six months of lessons and a few months of secretly dating the boy.

although, you had never really done anything so risky with him before.

“what if we get caught?” you whispered through the tears prickling your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, “we’d get into so much trouble, we’d be banned from ever speaking to each other again, we-“

yeonjun's large hand wrapped around the back of your head, making your face meet his in a kiss so sultry, yet so beckoning. he smirked against your mouth, “you worry too much, princess.”

you gulped at the boy underneath you, his gaze falling to yours through his wet eyelashes, his dampened brown locks falling messily over his eyes, his mouth stained with your strawberry lipgloss. although the room was dark, the way his smirk graced his lips made you clench around his girth, as you spoke ever so softly, “i-i’m only being cautious..!”

he rolled his eyes at you, “you’re fucking your swim tutor, baby. caution left way long ago.”

you closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands with guilt and shame as he reminded you of the graveness of the situation you had entangled yourself into, "ugh..! my parents sent me here to swim and i'm doing... this!"

yeonjun chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around your cold, barren, water-dripping body, his legs dipped into the swimming pool, "if you wanted to swim that badly, you could've said so."

"wait, what are you--" your questioning was abruptly cut off as your boyfriend suddenly held onto you, pulling you into the water along with him. your piercing squeal of surprise echoed through the halls of the empty pool as you found yourself splashing into the cold water, the smell of chlorine and fear only intensifying as your paddled around with your hands. yeonjun laughed at your struggle as you grabbed onto him for some stability.

"see? we're swimming now." he said matter-of-factly, before looking over to the clock. his eyes widened as he realised the time.

he circled his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, "i'm going to kill y-" you started, until yeonjun grabbed both of your cheeks, connecting his lips to yours messily.

"kill me later." his voice came out in a lazy mumble as he held you close, "your session's ending soon. let's finish off what we started."

your eyebrows furrowed at the way his playfulness seemed to nullify, his voice becoming much more mellow and low as his lips moulded against yours. your eyes fell heavy as he suddenly spun you around, pushing you up against the wall of the pool, pulling your ass out towards him in swift, forceful movements. his lips suctioned onto the back of your neck as yeonjun pushed himself into your tightening hole, his hips meeting yours in an angle where he could so easily fill you to the hilt, his pink and throbbing tip attacking your cervix. you cried in pleasure at his desperate and quick movements, sending you into a state of pleasure that you weren't even sure existed.

the pool water around you splashed and sloshed with every movement, his mouth beside your ear as he spoke to you, "feels good, baby?"

"f-feels s-so good, junnie-" you whimpered in response, the tears from earlier racing back as you screwed your eyes shut tight. his hand lifted one of your legs, effectively spreading you out impossibly more, as his middle and ring fingers rubbed at your clit in rough, sloppy circles.

"gonna tell your parents 'bout how much you've improved..." yeonjun said, tone dripping both with love and lust as his other hand snaked around your body, groping at your breasts, his lips fluttering soft kisses along your jawline, "my smart girl catches on so fast every time. always makin' me so proud."

a choked moan left the back of your throat, your wet hair falling into your eyes with each thrust, your voice shaky as you babbled mindlessly, "d-don't wanna go home.."

he smirked softly, pecking your temple, "i know, baby. but i'll see you next week, okay? and then we can catch up on the lost time all over again."

you sniffled, "o-okay." your hand quivering as it found his, gripping tightly onto his fingers as you clamped tightly around him, "s-so close, junnie."

"yeah? you're gonna cum for me?" he asked between heavy pants as each thrust he delivered came faster than the last one, the erotic nature of the sound of your skin slapping against his making your body quake.

you could only respond with the nod of your head at his question, much too dazed to even think straight anymore. you felt the crash coming as your climax built up in your stomach, your thighs shook and convulsed at the sensation as you let out a broken cry of pleasure, dropping your head as our release sent your mind spiralling into a web weaved with so many different emotions, you were sure that you would lose count if you tried.

the movement of his hips slowed to an eventual stop as his peak reached as well, leaving you filled with his pearlescent finish as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he laid gentle kisses along the side of your neck. the words he said only came out in a soft whisper with his lips against the shell of your ear, "let's get dried off.."

taglist. @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @haesunflower @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

[the-shiftshop]

Changes Happen All The Time. You're Just Aren't Aware Of It

"Here's a long transformation story to keep up with my debt." - Uncle Lee

--

Finally, graduation. Ron and Paul had finally finished college and it was time for the childhood friends to come back to their home town. The two were unseparable every since childhood. Until they were college, they both went to the same university, taking the same course, living in the same dorm room.

On this day, it's was time to bring all their stuff back home. Paul is already done with his, with Ron driving him back and forth, so this time, it was Paul's time to help Ron bring all his stuff back.

"Eyes on the road, man. I swear you're going off the road" Paul tapped his buddy as he continue fidgeting with his phone.

Paul is your averarage college senior. Although wanting to build muscles, his studies get in the way, making him stay on an average build. Not too skinny, yet not that fat. Although his studies matter so much, he never backs down from adventures especially when it's with Ron.

"Yeah, well. We're basically in a deserted area. No cars, no buildings, and frankly, I don't think I'll hit something either way." Ron argued, still listening to Paul and makes sure the van is on he right lane.

Ron on the other hand can be mistaken for a stereotypical jock bro if only he's not known for being one of the top notchers in the university, and also maybe because of his rectangular glasses. He is lean with muscle and he lives showing off both his brain and brawn. He has an average amount of body hair on his face, chest, arms, and legs, which most of the time were kept trimmed.

Both had been long good friend despite differences especially with preferences. A very inseparable pair.

"I'm honestly kinda thirsty. Think we can find some place to buy drinks around here?" Ron followed, eyeing for any buildings in the horizon.

"I bet not." Paul answered. "I can find you some water from the back if you want."

"Naw.. We already drank them all. Thought we only had two of our own bottles." Ron replied.

"Alright, let's see..." Paul went to his map app and scanned for any shop the map app, and sure enough one suddenly appeared.

Paul could've sworn that wasn't there before, but eh, it's probably just because we didn't zoom in enough.

"Here's one, just a few more kilometers away." Paul showed Ron.

Ron drove to the location of the said shop and lo and behold, there was one shop just along the road in the middle of nowhere.

They parked on the edge of the road in front of the shop, turned the van off and went out together. As Paul checked the condition of their van, Ron walked near the store.

"Hey, I'll go ask for some water. You can wait for me out here" Paul said.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just check if we're still good here." Ron replied, tapping on the van's hot wheels.

As Paul walked near the shop, he started to feel all tingly and weird. As if he's entering a separate dimension of some sort through a force field. A large sign is placed just above the wooden door.

"The Shift Shop" Paul read.

Without anymore hesitation, Paul proceeds and marvelled at the view of the inside.

Through he wooden door, it wasn't like anything from the outside. It felt like one of the shops you see in your favorite fantasy movies. There were areas with sparkling contraptions, a flying phoenix roaming the store, small fireworks exploding in different colors, it all looked magical.

Paul closed the door and proceeded deeper. It may seem magical, but there were shelves displaying products as if it's Walmart. Paul saw food, hygiene products, electronics, dairy, snacks, and anything you may imagine. There was even an area for clothes and accessories. Paul was too much in awe that he forgot what he came in for.

Soon, he reached the counter. A bell on top of it rang automatically to acknowledge his presence and to notify the owner that a visitor had come by, almost too automatic to look like it has a life of its own.

"Just a moment!" Paul heard a deep voice coming from behind the curtain across the other side of the counter, although he swear the voice spoke of a different language, probably Korean, yet somehow he understood it automatically.

The bell rang again, rushing the man to come out as soon as possible. "Told you, Bell, to wait for a moment! I'm... you know what nevermind." The man spoke again and Paul confirmed it was Korean, yet he understood.

The man finally walked out of the curtain, and Paul gasped at the fair skinned Asian hunk wearing a thick-framed glasses. He was topless with a messy wet hair, wearing only a long beige dress pants, buckled with a black belt.

"Apologies, but my bell is always so eager to have me come and greet my visitors. I just finished taking a bath and, yeah I guess it's evident." The man spoke, this time in English. As he finish speaking, he wears the white plain shirt he was holding, "Welcome to the Shift Shop. I'm guessing this is your first time?"

"Y-Yeah. It's honestly... amazing here." Paul managed to mutter.

"Thanks, that's centuries of good work." The man chuckled, "I'm the owner of the shop, Timotheo Lee, or you can just call me Uncle Lee."

"Uncle?" Paul chuckled. The man does not look like he's old enough to be his uncle, nor be anyone's uncle anyway. He seem to be just around 25, and those youthful muscle and smooth skin did all the talking. "Is that a pen name or something?"

"Oh, I'm not kidding about the century thing. I'm older than what you think." Uncle Lee smirked.

"Really?" Paul didn't bother lengthening the discussion about his age. The shop itself already seemed so unreal. The man could even be a older than how many centuries he guess. Instead, his eyes roamed around the room.

Uncle Lee chuckled once more and moved closer to her customer. "Seems like you're looking for something, I mean you proceeded deeper into my shop. You're thirsty for something magical, aren't you?"

Paul laughed. "I'm honestly just 'thirsty' thirsty" He replied, "But something magical doesn't seem like a bad idea."

Uncle Lee tapped on his bell "Jules!" He called out and suddenly a short nerdy suited up staff appeared from thin air.

"S-Sir!" Jules replied, stuttering.

"Guide our new visitor to some areas he might fancy" Uncle Lee winked at Jules.

Jules seemed to almost melt just by his boss's wink. He made a soft 'aww' right after the man did so. "Y-Yes, sir!" Jules gave a salute and invited Paul to some part of the shop.

---

Paul had roamed around longer than he expected. He tried a bunch of testers and witnessed different kinds of magic while in the store, all of which Jules let Paul try on him.

There were fruits that turn people older or younger. There were gadgets that help you fulfil your wishes. There were literally a lot to see, but soon enough Paul stopped by a certain product that catched his eyes.

"A jade necklace?" Paul asked.

"Oh, not just any jade necklace" Jules said in a deep rumbling voice. Throughout all the testing, Jules ended up with a body of a 40 year old body builder with dog ears and tails that matches his white hair. "It's the Necklace of Names."

"Necklace of Names?" Paul repeated.

"Necklace of Names" Jules repeated back. "It's supposed to make the wearer able to change whoever he calls in a different name, and the other person will never know the changes!" Jules exclaimed. "Let's have this for an example: I'm wearing the necklace and I called you by any name aside from your actual name, for instance, I called you 'gramps'. You'll turn into a grandpa version of yourself!" Jules explained. "Or if I call you by a name of a famous actor, or someone I know, that'll automatically change you to that person. It's honestly best if you an try it yourself."

Jules takes the necklace and brought it to Paul's hand.

"And the person I change won't notice a thing?" Paul asked for confirmation while looking at the green pendant the necklace has.

"They certainly wont and their mind and personality will also adapt," Jules answered. "And in most cases, reality also adjusts, but you still have to be careful".

"If it's magic, bet it has some sort of consequences once I started using this, no? I mean just like in the movies" Paul asked

Jules nodded "Exactly." He said, "But if you wanna try it on just like what you did to the other products, don't worry, we had the consequence feature turned off when it's just for testing. But for this specific bad boy..." Jules tapped on he necklace. "I honestly don't think you'll consider it a consequence. Bet you'll even like it. I can tell you what it is unless you like surprises."

"Surprises, huh." Paul looked at the necklce and back to Jules "Yeah, I'm up for surprises. I'll figure it out on my own"

"Great! So a keeper?" Jules smiled.

"A keeper."

Paul was convinced already and didn't even have to try it on Jules. They walked back to the counter and paid.

"Mhmm. The Necklace of Names." Uncle Lee sang. "You have a great taste." He looked at me and back at the necklace. "That would be a dollar."

A dollar? That's so cheap for this quality and he expected more. Paul brought his wallet from his pocket and pulled out 2 dollars and placed it on the counter.

"This shouldn't be just a dollar. It even looks expensive." Paul remarked.

"Oh, Paul. It's alright. It really is just a dollar." Uncle Lee nodded and adjusted his glasses. "This shop does not really run from profit. This exchange is merely just like signing a contract by barter." He continued. "I prefer to know you're enjoying the magic than earning money from the magic."

Paul stared at Uncle Lee and his eyes lit it.

"And you know, I choose my customers well. I know you'll do great with our items." Paul smiled.

"Thank you." Paul smiled by the compliment. He's starting to understand why Jules reacts all shy around him.

"Anyways, I'll keep the other dollar. You best be on your way to your trip, and you, Jules..." Uncle Lee trailed off, looking at the silver fox hunk Jules had turned into. "Let's come to the back. I have to do something with that thick ass of yours" He winked at Jules and then waved goodbye to Paul. "Take care, Paul."

---

Paul left the store with a smile. He really had paid for the necklace with just a dollar. He decided to put it on and walked back to the van.

There was Ron, now holding 2 big bottles of water he got somewhere.

"Dude, where did you go? What took you so long?" Ron has his eyebrow furrowed, all while taking a drink from his water.

"Ah! Right. I forgot to buy-"

"Already did that, man. I was looking for you inside the store and you weren't there. Where did you go?" Ron asked again.

"I was inside the sh-" Paul turned back to look at the shop, but gasped at what he saw.

The shop was different now. Gone with the big signage and the wooden door. It turned into a regular off-the-road convenience store. Paul kept his mouth shut and looked back to Ron.

"Let's get back on the road. It's getting dark." Ron commanded and they both went back in the van.

---

It has been a few minutes and they've finally reached a populated area, and Paul still couldn't stop thinking about what happened. It was obviously not any hallucination since the necklace he bought is still hanging on his neck. Nevertheless, he'd want to try the necklace out, but to whom?

"You're unusually quiet. What's up?" Ron snapped Paul back to reality. "We passed by a lot of interesting sights earlier and you didn't even reacted like how you would."

"Nothing. Just thinking." Paul excused.

"Whatever it is, I ain't the type to just let my buddy stay silent throughout the drive. Whatchu wanna do?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, really." Paul replied, "Don't worry about it."

"Naww. C'mon." Ron then chuckled. "You know I'm not that type to pretend like I ain't seeing you're out of your usual mood."

It's really hard for Ron to endure that, and as much as he can, he tends to joke around just to make Paul laugh. And as for Paul, those damn words. It always was what reminds him of things he can never let go.

Paul always had a big crush on his childhood friend. Although he never had trully opened up to Ron about it because of the fear of losing his friend. Because of that, he always had to push those thoughts away to preserve their friendship, yet it's really hard when your friend is all affectionate like this.

"You wanna jerk off?" Ron smirked.

"What? No! Where did that come from?" Paul jumped from his seat. His heart beating too fast.

"Come on~ My bestfriend just needs a little bit of release~" Ron teased. He was joking. Paul knows that. It always had been a joke. "I'll stroke that dick if I were you. It's just the two of us anyway."

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Paul laughed.

"What? If you don't want to, I'll stroke it for you." Ron giggled, jokingly placing a hand on Paul's thigh, immitating some stereotypical dumb jock asking for some bro time with his buddy.

"Stop that, you horny dumb jock-" Paul eye's widened as he finish his sentence. He snapped his head back to Ron as Ron suddenly groaned.

The van started to slow down until they stopped on the side of the road. Paul's eyes widened as he realized what he had just done. Ron was changing. The necklace was doing its job.

"U-Urgh..." Ron groaned as he stretched his body, his hand still on Paul's thigh, which was now massaging it. "Fuck, bro..."

Bro. Ron was turning into a "Horny Dumb Jock" he just called him.

Ron's muscles started to morph itself, changing his build in one way or another. His body hair started to disappear to look like they're cleanly shaven away. Tattoos apeared around his body, and he can feel it. The muted pain of tattoo needles crawled around his body, but it wasn't really that painful to him. It was pleasurable. Ron started to move his other hand around his body, feeling every skin. Pinching his nipple through his t-shirt, then feeling his abs inside, then moving it to paw his growing hard on. All the while his other had was roaming around Paul's thigh. Ron's clothes started to change. His shirt darkened and shifted to a tanktop, loose enough to show his chest. His glasses disappeared, and a cap formed on his head. His eyebrows furrowed harder as his old memories gets replaced by new ones. He's a horny dumb jock. He spend all his day fucking, masturbating, and jocking out. All the knowledge of a top notcher disappeared. His memories with Paul did not disappear, though some parts like their dynamics, their hobbies together, changed. Soon enough, Ron finished changing, physically and mentally.

"Fuck, bro. I really..." The newly jockified Ron groaned. "I really need to bust one out. I..."

Paul was left speechless. He did it. He accidentally used the necklace on Ron. He doesn't know how to feel about this, but there he stared at his childhood friend-slash-crush.

Ron moved his hand back to his crotch, pawing at his hard on that seemed to have grown than its original size. His other hand, still on Paul's thigh, squeeze it.

Paul was turned on and don't know why. He noticed his cock also hard in his pants, and Ron, squeezing his thigh, is making it more arousing.

"I need to... urgh.... jerk off." Ron grunted, like it is very urgent for him to release. "C-Can I?" Ron looked at Paul.

They stared at each other. Paul felt his heart beat faster than ever. At some point Paul wants to join Ron, but he's trying all his best not to.

"R-Ron...nnie" Paul tried to call on Ron, but for some reason, he called him Ronnie. He never called him that, but it seems automatic.

It was the necklace's work. Each change also gives the other person a new name. This is to have it easy for the owner to turn the other person back to their original body. And for this instance, Ron had just turned into a horny jock named Ronnie.

"Y-Yeah, go on. I-I don't mind, R-Ronnie." Paul stuttered.

"Yeah... No homo, bro, alright?" Ronnie said while pulling down on his shorts, revealing his hard cock. "Fuck..."

Paul stared at Ronnie as he jerked off. Ronnie still carressing Paul's thigh as he do so. "Yeah... No homo..." Paul repeated, staring at Ronnie's cock.

It was his first time seeing Ronnie's cock after years. Although it seems like this version of Ron has a bigger dick than the original.

The van was filled with loud sensual moans. Paul watched Ronnie's pecs bounce as he stroke his cock. Ronnie looks so hot when his face contort everytime he finds his own pleasure spots. Soon enough, Ronnie was near.

"F-Fuck, bro. I'm gonna-" Ronnie stroke faster, and he gripped harder on Paul's thigh. "I'm gonna cum!"

Ronnie came loads of cum all over his shirt, some of them landing on his cap, almost making a big mess on his van.

"O-Oh... Shit.... That feels sooo good." Ronnie limps down, taking deep breaths as he chuckle and looked back to Paul. Ronnie removed his shirt and used it to wipe all his cum off his body and his cap, and Paul had a good look on his hunky body. Ronnie noticed and smirked.

"You seem like you're hard too, bro." Ronnie eyed Paul's cock, which Paul hid on cue. "Naw, bro. You know we can be this comfortable to each other." Ronnie smiled at him. "Want me to help you out?" He asked, moving one hand back to his knee, moving up to his thigh

Paul's eyes widened. "N-No. I'm alright, Ronnie."

"You sure? You can always say No Homo anyway?" Ronnie's face gave a mild frown. "I told you if anything to make my bro happy, I'll do it."

"I-It's fine."

"Aight, suit yourself."

And they continued their drive with Ronnie, shirtless, and Paul's cock, hard.

---

The rest of the drive gave Paul the opportunity to experiment on his friend. In the last 30 minutes, Paul decided to experiment more. Ron had turned into a dad, a freshman, a foreigner, and other stuff Paul managed to trigger as they converse. Satisfied and almost near their destination, Paul reverted Ron back to his original body just by calling him again in his real nickname "Ron".

Upon arriving at Ron's house, Paul could've sworn Ron had been stealing glances from him more than usual. While they we're fixing stuff, it's often for Paul to find out Ron is lost in deep thoughts. He had caught Ron staring at him, sometimes adjusting the collar of his shirt, and even his underwear.

By sunset, they are almost finished putting everything in place in Ron's room. Both Paul and Ron were left sweaty due to carrying a bunch of stuff from the van to the house.

"I gotta take a quick break." Ron said as he took his shirt off and dropped them on the side. "Could you bring the last box in?" Ron asked Paul as he sat on the chair.

"Yes, sir" Paul answered.

"Damn, that could be another trigger. " He tought to himself.

What he called him as a little vague. Ron could turn either a very well respected dad, or his professor, or someone that can dominate him in bed. As he looked back to where Ron was sitting, there he saw the new man.

Before the new Ron could speak, Paul's eyes widened and hurried himself out the room and grabbed the last remaining box. His friend, his crush, turned into one heck of a dreamboat.

Reaching the living room, Paul came to he box. It was a big box that should be carried by two people, but Paul managed to carry it himself. Although struggling, he carried it to the room.

It was hard for Paul to carry the box in while walking forward, so Paul had to turn his back and walk backwards into the door frame.

"Excuse me, this thing's heav-" Paul exclaimed as he struggled.

"Wait, lemme take care of-"

The new Ron said in a soft deep voice as he rushed to Paul's aid, but before he managed to do so, Paul tripped.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed and ran to catch Paul, only to fall too and both of them and the box on the floor, Paul lying on top of Ron.

"You okay, kid?" Ron asked, holding onto Paul.

"Sorry, sir." Paul replied.

Paul felt something on his back, growing hard. He heard Ron clear his throat, and so he looked up to see Paul, blushing.

"S-Sir, I can feel your..."

"S-Sorry!" Ron pushed Paul off his body and slid up to sit. "I-I..."

Paul sat down to face Ron. He can see Ron's huge cock straining against his gray shorts, just enough for Paul to get hard himself too. They stared at each other's cocks then to each other's eyes. Then in one quick movement, they were kissing.

Paul broke the kiss, shying away from his indirect confession. "F-Fuck. I'm sorry." He said. "That was very impulsive."

"It's alright." Ron said, still looking at Paul's eyes. He smiled and grabbed Paul's hand and guided it to his chest.

"S-Sir..." Paul's eyes widened.

"It's fine, Paul. I want this too."

Paul melted as Ron spoke in his deep sensual voice. It was a very reassuring but sexy baritone voice coming out from the mouth of this sexy hunk his friend had turned into

"Can I?" Ron motioned to move closer.

Paul nodded and welcomed Ron. Ron slided closer to Paul and started feeling his body s he kiss him on the neck. Paul shivered as Ron finds every pleasure spots in his body. Ron took Paul's shirt off and kissed his chest, coming to a nipple. All the effort of hiding how he liked his bestfriend broke down. It was just he and him enjoying the moment.

"A-Ah!" Paul moaned. "That feels so good."

"You like that?" Ron's eyes gleamed as he ask.

"Yes, sir." Paul nodded, putting both of his hands on Ron's face.

"Call me, Russel. Paul." He requested. "I'm not your teacher anymore"

Russel. That's Ron's name in this body of a hunk. So happened that he is his professor. Former, actually. Russel was doing a great job in making Paul feel good. Both of their cocks are basically stone hard and Paul had been wanting release even before they arrived to Russel's home. Russel pulled Paul's shorts off and marveled at the cock in front of his face.

"Wow, you have a big cock..." Russel said which made Paul chuckle.

"You think? Yours is even bigger." Paul stroked Russel's cock through his shorts and made him groan.

Russel took his shorts off too, finally letting Paul see this thick hairy cock. Paul grabbed on Russel's balls and played with it before stroking his cock again.

Russel moved closer to Paul's cock. "Can I...?" Russel asked.

"Please." Paul pulled Russel's head to his cock.

Russel went straight in, sucking Paul with all his might. The room once again was filled with mostly Paul's moans. His former childhood friend, now a hunky former professor is sucking his cock so eagerly. He's almost near and he's practically begging for release.

"Sir... Russel, I'm gonna."

"Not yet." Russel stood up and carried Paul onto the bed, sitting.

Paul expected that they'll fuck. He stared at Russel's thick hard cock and shivered at the thought of how painful can it be to have that in his ass.

"W-Wait. I can't take you. You're too big!" Paul pushed on Russel.

"Who said you're the one who's gonna be fucked? Russel grinned.

Paul's eyes once again widened as Russel climed onto his cock and sat on it. Without any hesitation, Russel pushed his ass down to Paul's cock.

"A...urgh!" Both of then groaning in pleasure

"You feel so good..." Russel whimpered.

"Y-You're so tight!" Paul moaned.

Russel groaned louder as Paul pushed and hat hit his prostate. "A-Ah! Sh..." Russel then moved, riding on Paul's cock.

It was too much to handle for Paul. The hunky professor is riding his cock. He's fucking a hunk. He then motioned to kiss Russel once more as they move. Paul holds onto Russel's cock as he strokes him. Paul lied down and Russel followed. He brought his feet onto he bed and started humping Russel himself.

"I-I'm close!" Russel exclaimed.

"Y-Yeah?" Paul smirked.

"Ah... Ah! I'm gonna cum!" Russel moaned hard.

"Cum for me, Russel!"

Soon, Russel came all his load onto Paul. Some hitting his face. Paul didn't stop thrusting his cock in Russel. He went faster and soon...

"I... I'm gonna cum too..." Paul said.

Russel moved and licked Paul's nipple, driving Paul insane.

"Y-Yeah! More! I'm gonna cum!"

Paul moaned and finally, he released into Russel's ass. They moved for one more kiss, and once they broke, they chuckled at each other.

Paul pulled out. Both panting and grasping for air.

"So..." Paul trailed off

"So...?" Russel followed

Paul paused or a moment. The power he got from the Necklace of Names was great. It seemed like he almost live in every fantasy he can think of, but then again, what about his friend Ron?

He looked at Russel. This was Russel, his former professor in this new reality. He may have been his friend a moment ago, but it was all Russel who made a move on him.

It was Ron who he liked, not the dumb horny jock, Ronnie, and most certainly despite being a fantasy-brought-to-life, not this hunky professor, Russel. Paul got lost in that thought. What could even happen if he revert Ron back?

"Uhm... Wanna take a shower with me?" Russel asked, bringing his hand to Paul.

"Yeah, sure."

---

They proceeded to the shower. Russel went in first, testing the temperature, then offering his hand to Paul to guide him in. Russel washed off the cum on of their bodies, then he opened up for a big warm bear hug.

Paul stuck his face in between Russel's chests, still thinking about earlier. Trying to muster up his courage, he asked.

"Do you like me?"

Russel cleared his throat. "Well... I hope it wouldn't be weird to tell you I like you since I am your professor, no? Well... Former."

"No, I meant..." Paul stopped for a moment, then looked up to Russel's eyes, trying all his best to look for Ron in this deep brown eyes. "Do you like me, Ron?"

Russel began to shrink back down. His muscles lessening and his age going back to 22. He's back to Ron, just the regular old Ron.

"I.... I like you, Paul. I really do." Ron's cheeks flushed red, still hugging his friend. "I mean... I always had this feelings for so long... I just didn't think..."

"I like you back?" Paul continued. "I also had this for a very long time too..."

They smiled.

"Ron." Paul called out once again. "I don't know how to phrase this properly, but..."

In his mind, he had kissed Russel, but that was not trully Ron, it was just right to ask one more time, right?

"Can I kiss you?" Paul reached up to Ron's cheeks.

Ron didn't hesitate. He smiled and brought Paul into his lips.

Yet another round for Paul, but it's real this time.