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luveline · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

You and James have found more than friendship on the ice. When you’re afraid to flub a jump and take the leap with him into something more, he finds a way to convince you. [4k]

hockey player!james, figure skater!reader, shy!reader, fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions, first kiss, idiots in love, james is tall pretty and extremely in love, sometimes shy!james <3 requested here

･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ

You're used to the skin tight costumes of figure skating, and have accepted the fact that they show the entirety of your thighs— that's sort of the point. What you're not used to, however, is having the hockey team see you in said costumes.

James is thrilled. "Look at you, angel! You're in costume!"

He holds the sides of the rink in his hands, leaning his weight toward the ice. You wrap your arms around yourself self-consciously.

"I was hoping you wouldn't see me," you admit, though you can't help smiling at him anyhow.

You're usually very happy to bump into him, and your body reacts like it's been conditioned to. James leads to good feelings.

"I bet you were," he says.

James reaches out for you, and you skate to the end of the rink despite yourself. He doesn't touch you when you're close, you weren't really expecting him to, only inclines his head inward to tell you something quietly, all secretive like.

"Your skirt’s tucked in a little bit. On the left," he says.

"Oh, how," you grumble, twisting your torso to try and see what he means. A leaf of your skirt has managed to fold itself into the fabric that covers your butt. "That's so embarrassing."

You were likely trying to unstick a slight wedgie when it happened. It's mortifying, but James probably doesn't know how it happened… probably. You yank the skirt out and hope he can't read what you're thinking off of your face.

"Thanks, James," you say quietly.

You say his name with altogether too much affection, considering you're friends. Acquaintances, even. You know James within these walls and nowhere else, like work colleagues, and you'd die if he knew how close you felt to him. In fairness, you both spend the majority of your free time within these walls, but still.

He's probably the best friend that you have. Which is pathetic. But between skating and your nervous disposition, this is as good as it was ever going to get. And you don't mind.

All of the time.

"You're welcome. If I knew we were dressing up today, I would've worn something nice." He has his jogging bottoms on and not his big bulky kit. You try not to stare at the more tight-fitting form of his hoodie sleeves, but it's hard. His biceps are ridiculous. "Are you staying?"

Sometimes, if the boys are practising you'll stay. It's free entertainment — and it is incredibly entertaining to watch. James and his friends are a semi-professional team, which means they're a mixture of good and fun. They play because they love it, and they all have their night jobs to go back to after. It makes it easier for you and James to get along: you're semi-professional too. You're never going to the Olympics, you know that. You skate because you love it.

There's a clock steadily ticking down on your skills. Every year you get older, heavier, a little more inflexible. The more intense sportsmen and women fight this, revile this, but you've accepted it completely. Skating is for fun. The competitions are to see how far you can go, and it sucks to lose, but the chance that you might win means you keep trying.

If James and his friends are doing laps, it's a mock punishment from their coach. In half an hour they'll be playing a friendly match against one another like nothing happened.

"I have to go take this off but… yeah, I'll stay. Is Sirius here today?"

James leans back and you follow his turned gaze to a lean figure across the way. As soon as you spot him, your ears tune in to his raucous laughter.

"You won't let him see me, will you?" you ask gently. "He'll never let me hear the end of it."

James shakes his head. "Of course not. I'll go distract him, alright? You run away."

You give him a very grateful nod. James turns away. You almost miss it, the double take that he does, like he wants one last look.

You skate off to the other side of the ice where your skate guards, water bottle and hoodie sit waiting. The guards snap on easily. You throw your hoodie over your arm and make a break for the changing rooms, Sirius’ incredulous voice tailing your retreat at the last second.

Once you've changed out of your costume and packed it away neatly in your locker, you walk back to the main auditorium, freaking out as gently as you're able to. You keep having conniptions about James, because James keeps looking at you like he has something to say. You've never been the object of a pretty boy's affections. You're worried that it's all in your head, and that you'll make a fool of yourself if you try to flirt back, but his face when he'd seen you in your costume gives you a terrifying new confidence.

James had been ecstatic. His eyes had roved all over you and he hadn't tried to hide it. His smile was huge and one hundred percent genuine: appreciative. Like he couldn't be happier to see you.

Is it wrong, then, to assume he likes you? No. You’ve known for a while.

"Oof," you mutter to yourself, stepping back into the general chill of the rink and its surrounding stands.

As you predicted, laps are over and the boys are in the thick of it, protection on, sticks shivering across ice with a sound like sharp blades. You stand behind a plexiglass screen and follow James' darting figure from afar. He's recognisable to you from the way he pulls back his arms, and the slight lean of his torso when he's standing still. You've spent too much time watching him.

Too much time, and yet the rules are still complicated in your mind. James and Sirius are arguing with Frank on the opposite side about icing, passionate enough that James pulls his helmet off and begins throwing threats at his friends.

"Mate, I'm actually about to drown myself," he warns, laughing through each word. "Are you listening to me? Take the penalty before I scream. Good god, man."

You laugh. James' head almost snaps clean off his neck with the speed at which he turns to look at you.

Sirius' head follows.

"Hey!" Sirius calls immediately, abandoning his skirmish to skate towards you. "What the fuck! I wanted to see the dress, you let James see it! Go put it back on right now."

"How'd you even know I was in a dress?"

"How did I know? James lit up like a Christmas tree, that's how I know. He's disgusting all the time and it's your fault."

"It's not really a dress," you say. Sirius is as nice as James but he's intimidating where James isn't. He's less smiles, more barking laughter. Less compliments, more playful chastisement. It's not his fault in any shape or form that you find his personality hard to respond to, but you do. "It's a bodysuit with a skirt. But sometimes… sometimes the girls do wear dresses."

"Yeah? I think he might pass out," Sirius says. Then, with a neater smile. "He told me to be nicer, I didn't know I was being mean, sorry. I really do wanna see your 'bodysuit with a skirt'. A little to make fun, but I bet you look good."

James sweeps in and promptly knocks Sirius sliding sideways. "She looked amazing, now stop antagonising her."

"I wasn't flirting, Jamie, no need to worry–"

"Be gone, you beast." James' voice is tight with an emotion you can't name, lest you have another ruinous conniption for all to see. "Fuck off."

Sirius snorts. There's a commotion, their unprofessional coach shouting about idiocy, a lack of commitment, and more laps if there isn't an improvement in team cohesion. James rolls his eyes at you as the coach drones on. You feel guilty for giggling.

"Sorry for Sirius." James puts his hand on the top of his stick, bottom lip sticking out a touch as he grimaces. "Sorry for me, I'm sorry. I was hoping he'd use, like, a modicum of subtlety, but he's a dickhead and I know that. He's also a sweetheart. I should've guessed he'd rush to apologise."

"No, don't be. He doesn't need to be sorry for anything, and you don't have to be sorry for looking out for me."

"I'm not. Definitely not sorry for that."

James pushes a curl behind his ear. His hair is lusciously shiny under stadium lights, dark dark dark and curled, sweet and thick.

"You're in trouble."

James looks over his shoulder toward his coach's booming disbelief. "What, with him? We're in the off-season right now, he needs to relax… I'm sorry, I feel like I'm not talking like a real human being right now." He laughs, awkward and charming at once. "Do I sound weird to you? Don't answer, that'll make it worse," he adds, his voice dipping into a genuine sadness. "Awful. Well, I'm going back over there to finish. Can you stay?"

Not do you want to. Can you? It feels incredibly intimate, his easy assumption without a lick of expectancy. If you said no, he'd frown and throw his chest back, hand over his heart like he's been shot in one of his dramatics, but he’d understand.

"I'm staying," you say.

"Brilliant. Okay."

James Potter visibly flusters, tucking that same rogue curl behind his ear. You want to offer him something, a tight braid or one of your headbands from your bag. He skates off and you don't get the chance.

You're a vestibule of conflicted emotion. James has been acting so unlike himself lately. He's shy at odd moments and quick to fluster, scratching at his neck or his biceps or his nose in what you've identified as his nervous tic. And you might be shy yourself but you're not stupid, he's practically a mirror.

Knowing James has a crush on you and accepting it are wildly different tasks.

What if you date and he realises it's a mistake? You'll lose your only good friend. No more practices with James on the sidelines shouting stories across the rink for you to hear. No more pep-talks on hard days, a big hand on your shoulder and his lilting superlatives in your ear. You're going to smash it, shortcake. No more half sandwiches when he forgets his lunch. No more laughing until your stomach hurts. No more of his cologne lignering on your shirt from a quick hug, the smell indescribable even now. Sandalwood? Dewberry? Something sweeter, fuller, bourbon vanilla?

James clatter off of the ice after a tremendous loss with high spirits. His helmet under his arm, mouth guard in hand, he walks on his skates to your bench and sits down with a smile. “That sucked.”

"It was a good game," you say.

"Can't win them all. You going home now?"

"Work. Gotta work my arms out too," you joke weakly, curling your arm inward.

"Can I walk you? I can change quickly."

"You don't have to–"

"Please?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, feeling sick. "Yeah, okay."

James guards up and leaves for the changing room. You sit on the bench tapping your knees together, wondering why it feels so awful to like him so much. Sirius and some other friends pack up soon afterward, and a few of them are nice enough to say goodbye as they pass.

"See you tomorrow," Sirius says warmly.

You grimace at him. You'd been attempting a smile, but that hadn't really panned out, meekness and nerves combined pulling the corners of your lips down.

He wavers.

"You know," he says, paused half a foot from you, "James is a big boy, he can handle rejection. He wouldn't be cruel to you, if you weren't interested."

"That's not it."

"No?" he asks, slim eyebrows raised.

"It's the opposite of that. He's my friend." You admit it to yourself as you admit it to him. James is not an acquaintance. "Do you know what I mean? I don't want…" to lose him.

Sirius nods. "You won't." His teeth flash as he smiles goodbye.

James looks gorgeous when he emerges, his brown face framed by thick, dark hair, the strands closest to his face damp from a quick face wash.

"You could put your hair up," you say, standing. "It's getting so long now."

"Is it awful?" he asks, hand moving to the longest pieces at his neck. It's above his shoulder, but only just.

"No… no, it's not awful."

You both start walking towards the exit without another word. You should've said how you really feel about his hair —how it's gorgeous, and you'd like to run your hands through it, feel the softness for yourself and see the look on his face as he's touched with care— but you're worried one thread of honestly will pull at the rest, unspooling your innermost thoughts for him to see. You aren't ready for that.

James puts a hand behind your shoulder as you pass out of the exterior glass doors and into the street. The rink isn't far from your work, only a ten minute walk, and the first two pass in silence.

"You really looked lovely, in your costume. When is that, the competition?"

"A week and two days."

"Are you travelling?"

You nod. "Not far, but." You wrap your arms around your front to stave off the cool chill of the whipping breeze. James' hair gets pushed into his eyes. "I have a bobble if you want it."

"I can't do anything with it. It's not long enough for a ponytail, and I can't plait to save my life. I wouldn't know where to start."

You're glad to be looking at the pavement in front of you rather than his face as you say, "I'd do it for you, but…"

James' shoe hits a pebble.

"I know," he says. "We're going down a one way street."

"Right." Your heart soars, your chest lightens, so glad he understands where you're coming from. "If we keep going on like this there isn't a way to move back if it doesn't work, and I just… don't want to lose you. I can't, James. You're my– you're my only real friend. I like you," you confess, heart pounding in your throat, under your tongue, all the worst places it could stand to be. "I do. And I know you'd still be nice to me if I didn't. Um…"

You flush with heat, realising what you've admitted, and what he hasn't.

Like he can read it on your face, James' walking slows, and he turns in to face you.

"I like you, too," he says. "I'm a bit mad for you, actually."

You'd known that. Hearing it is something else. You hadn't realised how strong the pull would feel after he said it aloud. You look up from his broad chest to meet his eyes, and see the magnetism you feel reflected in his gaze. His hand breeches the gap between your two bodies first, his fingertips and then the flat of his nails smooth as they slide across the top of your thigh. Careful, slow.

James puts his hand on your waist.

"You're worried we won't be friends, if we try to make whatever this is," —he smiles gently— "work, and we can't."

"Exactly. I… you're…"

James takes your upper arm into his free hand. "I promise it will work," he murmurs. He looks at you with a steadiness bordering on stern. "Why are you so sure it won't?"

"I'm worried," you say.

"You're always worrying. But…” His hand flexes around your bicep. “You told me before, the reason you keep skating in competitions even though you don't win many anymore, do you remember that? You said you keep trying because the thrill of almost winning is nearly as good as the real thing."

James' smile turns sheepish. "I'm supposed to say that I don't know if this will work. That the thrill of almost making it together will be worth it if we don't, but I already promised you we will." He leans in a little. You don't think he means to. "And won't that feel better than almost?"

You look up into his handsome face, feeling your heart reach flat out, might as well be running full tilt speeds of beating. Your breath catches.

"I don't want to end up alone," you confess on an exhale.

"You won't. I'll make sure you won't."

Wind curls his hair into his eyes.

You reach out, your shaking index finger skirting over his brow bone as you tuck the runaway strand behind his ear.

His grip grows tighter at your waist. Never cruel, but insistent, desperate almost, in the way that his thumb shudders across your hoodie. You can’t feel his skin over the thick layer of cotton and polyester but you can feel the heat, like a star blistered against your hip bone, like a begging wish. You want him to touch you more than you can stand — you’re pleading with him in your head to do what you can’t do.

It must show in your eyes, the pained pinch of your brow.

“We’ll take things slowly,” he says. “We won’t do anything we can’t undo. All you have to do is trust me. If… if you want to.”

You lick your lips. Taking things slowly. You can’t kiss him, can’t trick yourself into the gratification of having someone so darlingly gorgeous put his hands on you. If he kisses you now, you’ll forget all the reasons why this is a bad idea. You won’t be able to test the waters. If you kiss him, you can’t take it back. For either of you.

James’ hand smooths down the length of your hip as he pulls it back. The other falls toward your hand. Your mourn the loss of his touch, but he’s offering you his hand, his long fingers separated, gaps waiting to be filled.

“Slowly,” you say, putting your hand in his.

He gives your joined hands an experimental squeeze. “We’ve all the time in the world.”

James starts walking back the way you came, pulling you with him down the road.

“James, where are we?”

“I told you. We went down a one way street by accident. Or, I tried to tell you, but you started talking.” His smile says he knows exactly what’s happened, the nature of your misunderstanding. “You were distracted.”

You’ve confessed on the basis of a misunderstanding. “This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me,” you utter.

James swings your hand lightly.

“And the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says. “Since you’ll be late now anyhow, maybe we could go get a hot chocolate.”

You gawp at his pleased smile. What have I gotten myself into? you think. And then, louder, Wow, he looks so happy.

—

James strangles the neck of a bulging bouquet in his hands, green stems wrapped in cellophane choked between two stressed palms, ten rigid fingers. The smell of fresh pollen and something sweeter awakens at his abuse, but James can’t make himself put them down.

You may not care if you win or lose the competition today, but he does. He hasn’t actually ever been with you during one, and he wasn’t supposed to be here today — he had a game, and as soon as it was over he piled into Sirius’ car with his kit on and had his friend break a couple of road rules (read: not laws, but guidelines) involving trampling a garden and a precarious not u-turn. (Sirius may have broken a law or two, but they were daft laws, and James didn’t get anybody hurt.)

He knows it doesn’t matter. He said you’d take it slow, and you are. He hasn’t even kissed you yet, and he doesn’t mind nearly as much as he worried. It’s enough to know you’re his, exclusively if tenuously, that he can find you at the rink or walk you to work and not need a reason anymore, because he wants to see you, and that’s enough. He’d even taken you out on a date, a proper one after the hot chocolate, with nice clothes and wine and champagne at a weirdly intricate restaurant that served foie gras and played classical music in the background. It was cute, and James adored being able to pull out your seat, take your jacket off of your shoulders, kiss your cheek goodnight just a little further in than a friend might.

You’ve finished the jumps in your program now, and James is relieved and gutted at once. Relieved, because they hadn’t quite scared him so much on TV, and gutted, because you look beautiful every time. It’s insane to see your body twist and turn, land and leap with that level of precision. All that's left for you to do is dance. He likes the way it looks, eyes focused on the pull and fall of your arms, how you smile, and in that last moment, where you pull your body in as tight as you can and spin until James is sure he’d see stars.

You skate to the centre of the ice and bow to the judges, and you don’t notice James is standing there waiting for you until you’re off the ice completely.

“Oh,” he sees you say rather than hears. When you’re just close enough to hear, you say, “Jamie, hi. I thought you had your game,” and throw your arms around his shoulders. James is very tall and very wide, and there’s a bouquet of flowers between you, but it’s a great hug.

He hugs you so hard you start to bend backward under his weight, the soft material of your bodysuit so soft it feels wet under his hands. Your face is hot, and you're still trying to catch your breath after your program, quick breaths like small gusts of wind against his neck. He feels your arms tighten incrementally, impossibly, and he closes his eyes for a lavish second of burying his nose in your hair.

“I played, we lost, it was good fun. Now I’m here to watch my girl win big.”

You laugh and pull away, your eyes shimmering with joy, post-competition adrenaline. “I flubbed my first jump, did you see? I almost hit the ice.”

“You pulled up amazing,” he says.

He spies your coach (who isn’t so much your coach as a friend, Mel, from the rink who goes with anyone who can get far enough into competitions to need one) with your jacket standing a little ways away.

“Hey, Mel, could I have that?” James asks.

Mel gives him a knowing look. She hands it over and he shoves the flowers at you without waiting for a reaction, wanting to get you wrapped up warm again as fast as he can. You slide one arm at a time into the sleeves and don’t say a peep when he zips it closed.

“James,” you say. Your cheek dips a touch toward your shoulder. Fondness lined each seraphim feature. “Sirius is calling you.”

He frowns. He’s been hoping for a little thank you kiss (cheek or chin, whatever you could reach), and Sirius is neither. He turns to where you’re looking at Sirius standing a ways away with some other spectators.

“You have absolutely no game!” Sirius shouts. “None!”

“What’s your problem?” James shouts back.

“You’re supposed to kiss her now? You twit!” he shouts, vehement.

James turns away from him, “God, I’m sorry, he’s such a fucking idiot, he…”

You’re looking at him. Quiet, face turned up and eyes squinted, eyelashes kissing in the corners, your glossy lips turned up like you want to be kissed. He feels it like a cheesy movie and he doesn’t care, every moment spent with you condensed as his hands come alive and cradle your face of their own accord.

He isn’t expecting you to lift up on your skates and kiss him first.

He does get fireworks, thank you very much. James Potter has been waiting to kiss you since the very first time he saw you, on ice, curling out of a tight spin with a deliriously happy laugh. It feels like an explosion, and the crowd cheers behind you for a jump he can’t see and it doesn’t matter, it fits, it makes perfect sense that a whole room of people would be up on their feet as he presses his lips to yours.

“You looked so pretty,” he tells you, nose sliding against yours as he holds himself back.

You kiss his bottom lip, another burst of floral scents erupting between you as you try not to slip back on your skate blades. “Thanks, James.”

He smiles into your mouth, melts into your hold, and takes another heart-thrumming kiss.

You’re runner up in the competition. You’re the only girl who isn’t on the pedestal that gets a bouquet of flowers, and likely the only one who doesn’t care, not one bit. You smile at James like you’ve won the gold on the way out of the centre, your hand latched firmly around his.

“Sirius.” You stop in the car park, flowers pressed to your chest. James stops beside you with your skate bag swung over his shoulder. “What happened to your car?” you ask.

Sirius kicks a new dent. “Friendship,” he says grimly.

James leans toward you, his lips at your ear. “Bender. Best not to ask about it. He’s sensitive.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Okay.”

He kisses your temple. “Thanks, angel.”

･:*:｡･:*:･ﾟ

thank you so much for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed, it makes such a difference for me <3<3<3<3<3

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 3 months

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Orbiting: pt.1°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]

“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.

"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.

Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.

Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.

With his other hand rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.

"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.

But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"

"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."

"Can I watch?"

"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.

"Again?"

"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."

"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."

Jungkook hums, "Him, too."

"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"

Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."

You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.

"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.

"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."

Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.

Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.

>> Page 2

#jeon jungkook #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts angst #fwb au #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

Hiii can you please write a blurb where its hockey player h getting jealous? It can be at a party or maybe at one of figure skater y/ns competitions?

i did that thing where i took an ask in a different direction, so if this was your request, message me and i'll do an actual jealous fic! i apologize, i was feeling angsty, protective boyfriendrry🤭🤭

trigger warnings: light depictions of sa, coping with sa

i don't pretend to know what it's like to be a victim/survivor or sexual assault, so if there is something that you may find offensive or unrealistic or glorified, please know that was not my intention. feel free to message me if you take issue with this fic, and i'll take it down.

all the love💕💕

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

You were quick to shake your head, stepping away from the guy you'd been talking to. It was just a conversation, nothing more, one you didn't even really want to be having in the first place. But the guy had cornered you in the fraternity's kitchen, and you were looking for a polite way out.

"Uh...no. I'm actually here with my boyfriend," you said.

You hoped that would be the end of it, but instead of backing off he stepped closer. "You don't have to play hard to get, Y/n. I'm already into you, so come on."

Dread started to fill your belly. Peeking over the guy's shoulder, you saw that you were the only ones in the kitchen, and with the loud music playing throughout the house, no one would hear you if you needed to call for help. You hoped you wouldn't need to, but it was all you could think about as he leaned in.

"No," you said, trying to sound firm despite your trembling voice. "I said no, so if you'll excuse me—Get off m—!"

His hand was on your wrists and pushed you roughly into the wall hard enough to hurt. While you were still in a daze from being shoved, he made his move. His mouth, which was not at all like Harry's, was on yours before you could say anything. The guy tasted like stale beer, and his tongue kept trying to push past your tightly closed lips. Your skin crawled every place he touched—under your shirt and skirt, the inside of your thigh—and every time he whispered in your ear and his breath unfurled across your neck. You wanted to call out or push him off but you couldn't. You never thought you would be in this position, and now you were, and you just...froze.

When his lips moved to your neck, you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping if you stayed still enough your mind might drift elsewhere. "Please," you whimpered one last time, willing yourself to push back, but you couldn't make yourself move.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry's voice, that was Harry's voice. For a moment, you thought his angry tone was pointed at you, that he thought he'd caught you cheating.

"Nothing, man, leave us alone. We're—"

Things were a blur after that, but all you knew was the guy wasn't on you anymore and you felt exposed. The skirt you had carefully tucked into your skirt at the start of the evening was rucked up, the neckline pulled down. You kept your eyes closed, tears slipping out as you listened to the sound of a fight, of someone getting shoved against a wall and plates or cups crashing and fists connecting with skin. You didn't want to cry, you felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Harry, please."

"Shut up!"

Your eyes stayed squeezed shut, but you could hear the altercation coming to an end as more people came into the kitchen, most likely pulling Harry and the other guy apart. Feeling someone crowd your space again, you tensed and shook your head, completely terrified.

"Hey, it's just me. It's just me, love. Can you open your eyes for me?" Harry said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, more tears spilling out. "I promise I didn't—"

"None of that, baby. I know what happened. You don't have to explain," he said. Harry reached out to gently push a strand of hair out of your face, but you flinched. "Sorry. I—Should I get Kate? She's here somewhere. I'll—Let me text her."

Kate came in minutes, and she quickly ushered you out of the party and into her car. Everything felt like white noise, and you were seeing without really seeing. You knew Harry was there and keeping his distance, but you just wanted to go home, be alone. So Kate drove you, got you into bed and slept on the couch in the living room, making sure to lock the door when you started to cry and hyperventilate because she'd forgotten.

The next morning you felt marginally better, but not great, and the day after that was more of the same. On the third day, you felt comfortable enough to get out of bed, to shower and scrub at your skin until it was rubbed raw. You were shaken up, but you felt like you were back in your body again. That night you did everything in your power to not be where you were mentally. A few days later, you were more aware once again, not so scared or skittish, but that only meant the memories and the feelings you were keeping at bay returned in full force.

"Harry's at the door. Wants to check in," Kate said, poking your head into your room. You'd been up for a couple hours, watching TV on your laptop after you finally stepped out of the shower, but you hadn't come out of your room yet, hadn't said a word to anyone. Hadn't spoken to Harry since the party. "He's been coming here for the last three days, and I've been holding him off, but—He's worried about you."

You knew he was worried. He called and texted until your phone died, and then he resorted to emails. Harry hardly even checked his email unless he had to message a professor about a late assignment, but he'd been emailing you relentlessly when you didn't answer your phone.

"Did he...hit that guy?" you asked, recalling bits and pieces from that night.

"Did a little more than just hit him, but well-deserved in my opinion," Kate muttered. "Was like one of those brawls he gets into on the ice at games except he had a good center of gravity. That piece of shit didn't stand a chance."

You didn't know how to feel about that. You were well aware that Harry got into fights at his hockey games, you always rolled your eyes when he got sent to the penalty box after shoving a player into plexiglass or taking a swing when she should've skated back to his position. And he was the jealous type, you were well aware of that. Sometimes Harry would glare or kiss your neck when he thought guys stared too long. He was protective and jealous, but a sweetheart on the inside, and part of you liked how strongly he felt for you and that he wasn't afraid to show it. Now...you didn't know how to feel.

"He...He can come in."

Kate nodded and left your room. A minute later, she was back with Harry. He had a split lip and dark bags under his eyes, but other than that, he looked fine. Kate was right, Harry seemed to take care of that guy without much trouble.

"Hi," he said, stepping inside your bedroom. Kate closed the door once he did, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hi."

"How—How are you?" he asked then frowned. "That was a stupid question. Sorry, I—"

"I'm okay. Not okay, but better, I guess."

"Good. That's—That's good. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep."

Harry's hands were tucked into his back pockets as he leaned back and forth on his heels, his eyes struggling to pick something to focus on. He was nervous, you realized.

"You can sit down," you said, bringing your knees up to your chest so he could have space to sit on your bed.

"Right thanks."

He approached the bed, sitting down on the very edge. His hands stayed in his lap, foot tapping rapidly. Your eyes narrowed, a hand reaching out to take one of his hands in yours before you could think much of it. Harry's knuckles were cut up, reddish-purple bruises covering his skin. Ever so gently, you ran a finger over the bruises.

"It looks worse than it feels," he said, probably lying. "I know how you feel about fighting, but I couldn't let him get away with that. He—I saw red, and—Sorry, we don't need to talk about me."

"I didn't think anyone would come," you said. "We were just talking, and then all of a sudden we were alone and the music was so loud. I—I didn't think anyone would've heard me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I went to the bathroom and went looking for you, I—I should've—"

"I don't blame you for not being there," you said. "You were there. I was just so scared, and I—I froze, I couldn't move, and I was so—"

"Hey, it's okay," he said. Harry tried to reach for you, but you pulled back. "I'm sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable by touching you. I can go—"

"I have bruises on my wrists," you said, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over your hands. "And I don't want to feel ashamed, and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but—but I do. I feel ashamed of what happened."

When you began to sniffle, Harry looked like he wanted to come closer, but he stayed put. "Can I?"

You gave him a small nod, and he gently took your left wrist in his hands. His touch was so delicate, you didn't even think he was capable of being that gentle. Harry pushed your sweatshirt back, and you quickly turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the bruised fingerprints on your wrists. You felt his thumb brush over the skin, and when your skin began to crawl, your shoulders tensed, and his thumb stopped.

"I went to the school board," he said. "The dean, or whatever. I told them what happened. I—I didn't mention your name, but I told them what happened so that...he could get expelled or reprimanded or something."

Your head had been resting on your knees, but at that, you looked at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, I—I'm sorry if I overstepped, but I couldn't just let him get away with it," he said.

You didn't know what to say. You'd been officially dating for a few weeks now, a little over a month, and things were still new, still fresh. But you liked this new relationship, and you didn't want what happened at the party to get in the way of something so good with Harry.

"I don't feel great, and I may have taken like a hundred showers since, but I think I just want...I think I could use a hug."

"I love hugs," Harry said, a small smile on his face.

You pushed the corner of your bedspread back to let him in, and Harry was quick to kick off his shoes and join you. His body was warm, the smell of his clothes perfect, his cheek against yours perfect. He was perfect. You felt comfortable in your own skin again with him next to you.

"And I could use a movie buddy," you said, opening your laptop again, firing up a rom-com.

"You've been pestering me to watch this with you," he mumbled against your temple. "But I'll watch anything if it means I get to hold you like this."

You blushed and squeezed his hand tight. Harry hissed a little, which made you mumble an apology before gently kissing his knuckles.

"I do hate when you fight," you mumbled, opening up your laptop again. "But this time it was deserved. If I have bruises, so should he. And I'm—I'm glad you told someone. Thank you."

"I wish I had been there," he said quietly, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist gently. "I should have been there."

You knew both of you could go around in circles about hypotheticals about that night, but it would be no use. Something horrible happened, and you wouldn't forget it, and neither would he. But the bruises would fade soon, and Harry was there for you, and so was Kate, and you would be okay. When he kissed your wrist, your shoulders tensed, but your skin didn't crawl, and when he rested his arm on your waist, you felt safe, not trapped, and when he asked if you wanted to get dinner when the credits of the movie rolled, you found yourself saying yes.

"This might be everything that happened and my emotions might be all over the place, so take this with a grain of salt. In the nicest way," you said. "But I think I might be in love with you."

Harry chuckled and helped you out of bed, waiting by the door as you slipped into a pair of sneakers. You didn't bother changing out of your sweats, even though you had to hike up the sweatpants you were wearing every few seconds because they were Harry's. Both of you were more than familiar with walking around in comfy clothes after practice or a training session. You were probably headed to McDonald's and back to your apartment for another movie anyway.

"Then I'll wait to tell you I'm in love with you in a month when we're on a proper date. Until then, shall we?"

"I don't want to feel like this."

"I know."

"I shouldn't feel like this," you said, pulling Harry's covers up to your chest.

"You're allowed to have all the feelings you want, Y/n," Harry said softly, careful to keep his distance on the narrow bed. "We can wait. I don't mind just laying next to you."

"Yeah?" you asked, getting teary eyed for an entirely different reason.

"However long it takes."

You sniffled and reached for his hand, which he took. "Sorry about the uh... unfinished business."

"That? Can't even feel it," he said.

"Liar," you said, laughing a little. "But it makes you a reeeaaly good boyfriend."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "And it'll be reeeaaly worth the wait."

You laughed even louder, even fuller, this time, flicking him on the nose. "Pig."

Harry teased and joked with you, but on the inside, he felt relief. You'd come out of your room and gone back to class the last couple weeks, but you weren't quite yourself. You stayed covered up from head to toe, you stayed home on the weekends, and your heart wasn't in your training. You went and you were brilliant, but Harry could tell. He'd watched you enough to know if your heart was in it, and it wasn't.

So he learned when to be a shoulder to cry on and when to make jokes to make you laugh and when to put on your favorite movie. Harry had never been in this position before, he never thought he would ever be in this position before. But he didn't imagine you did either, so he tried his best.

He wasn't worried, though. You were in therapy and going to class and getting good grades and you didn't flinch anymore when people tried to touch you. Friends, anyway, sometimes strangers startled you. Progress was progress, though. Some areas were better than others, though. Since the party, you and Harry hadn't had sex, hadn't even kissed on the lips. You held hands and Harry kissed your head and cuddled on the couch or a bed, but it didn't go much further than that. And you were fully clothed each time.

But he was more than willing to wait. Harry knew taking time was important and he hadn't put pressure on you to do anything. It was you who wanted to do more tonight. You thought you were ready, you insisted that you were ready, but when Harry tried to take your top off, you pushed him away, feeling sick to your stomach.

"You'll get there. We'll get there," Harry promised, going over to his dresser to get a shirt. He tossed it to you, wanting you to be as comfortable in a t-shirt instead of the top you'd worn out tonight. He grabbed one for himself and was halfway into it when you stopped him.

"Could you maybe just—"

"What?" He asked, coming over to the bed where you were still covered up.

"It's stupid," you said.

"I can promise you it's not."

Blowing out a large sigh, you looked at him. "Could you maybe just not wear a shirt?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He shrugged out of the one he just put on and slid into bed next to you. "Not stupid at all."

"I just want...to feel you, but I don't want—"

"To do anything more. I understand."

So Harry let you position him just how you wanted on his bed, making sure not to accidentally lean or lay on your hair. Your hands were feather-light on him, like you were barely touching him at all.

Sometimes, late at night when you were fast asleep, Harry would feel inexplicably angry. Not at you, never at you. At that guy for hurting you the way he did, for violating you in a way that was still affecting you when he probably hadn't thought about it since. Harry could tell you looked for him when you were on campus together. Your eyes flitted to each face that passed you by, squeezing Harry's hand when you saw similar hair or frame. You were terrified to see him again, and seeing the panicked look on your face when you thought you did enraged Harry even more.

But there wasn't much he could do except wait. Wait for you to heal, wait for the storm to pass, wait to kiss you again. All of it was worth it, you were worth it, but sometimes he thought there was something he could've done to prevent all of this.

"You can stop beating yourself up, you know," you said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know that look, Harry," you said, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. "I have never blamed you for what happened."

"I just wish I could help," he said, feeling his shoulders release tension they'd been holding since that night.

"You are. I don't know how to explain it, but I promise you are," you said, and that relaxed something in Harry too.

He was about to put on another movie when an idea came to him. "Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. I have an idea," he said, slipping back into his t-shirt and a hoodie.

Curious, you followed his lead, putting on shoes and letting him lead you to your car. "The rink," he said quietly, and even though you knew it was closed for the night, you went anyway. Harry didn't say anything, but you weren't really up for conversation anyway. You felt bad that you'd become a burden to Harry, that instead of a girlfriend he got...you. You wanted to be okay again, you wanted him to kiss you and feel you, you wanted to do more than just fall asleep next to him. But you just couldn't get his touch out of your head. You felt dirty and overexposed, and you weren't sure if you'd ever not feel that way again. You weren't sure if you should be selfish and keep Harry shackled to you while you found out.

"Come on," he said when you parked in the empty lot. It was almost midnight, which meant there were no more practices, no more games or private training sessions. It was just you and Harry.

He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, taking you by surprise when one slid into the lock with ease. The front door to the rink opened, cold air immediately hitting you as you stepped inside.

"Why do you have keys to the rink?"

"Being captain of the hockey team has its perks," Harry said with a shrug. "Come on, I want to show you something."

You followed him back to the boy's locker rooms, and past that to where the rink stored the equipment they rented out to local teams or families who wanted to start training their kids but didn't know what to buy yet. Harry grabbed a hockey stick, not quite as big as the one he used, and then a bigger one, and a few pucks.

"Do you have spare skates in your locker?"

"Of course."

"They'll do. We're not gonna actually play," he said, but he wasn't looking at you as he pulled out small nets from the back of the storage room.

When he had everything, he told you to grab yours and his skates while he set up the rink, not giving you a chance to respond. You did as he asked, using the combination he gave you before leaving the locker room to cross over to the girl's. Your spares were old, and the blades could've used a tune up, but they were comfortable and would hopefully work for whatever Harry had planned.

You quickly got into your skates and got on the ice, handing Harry's over once you reached him. "I think you need to get angry, and I think you need a way to just let it all out," he said as he laced up his own skates, which were much clunkier than yours. "So I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Harry, I don't think—"

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at you like he wasn't actually sure if you did.

"Yes," you said almost immediately.

"Then let me help you do this."

So you did.

Harry showed you the basics of shooting a hockey puck at the net. He made it look so easy, so effortless, but when it was your turn, you hardly made the puck move. But Harry was patient, quietly telling you what you did wrong and helping you adjust your stance. Eventually, you got the hang of it, and when you hit the first puck with force, you didn't stop.

Harry had been right, you needed an outlet for everything you were feeling, and each swing of the hockey stick had you feeling more than just uncomfortable in your own skin or scared or sorry for yourself. You were furious that this happened to you, that you couldn't do anything to stop it, that this person left you feeling weak and broken. All of that anger went into your movements, and everything else fell away, including Harry, who hadn't said a word since you got the hang of it.

You didn't know how long you stayed on the rink, all you knew was the stick in your hand and the ice beneath your skates. It wasn't until Harry tapped you on the shoulder that you finally stopped. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were breathing heavily, but you felt good, and you hadn't felt good since that night.

"Your arms are gonna be sore tomorrow," Harry explained, taking the hockey stick before skating around to gather up the other equipment. When he made his way back to you, you were still huffing and puffing. Gently, Harry reached out and brushed a thumb across your cheek, then the other. You didn't even realize you'd been crying. "How do you feel?"

"Different," you said. "Like I could sleep forever."

Grinning, Harry said, "Then let's get you back."

Harry had been right, your arms were already starting to feel like jello. You were worn out, but in a good way. You and Harry walked back to the car in silence, though when you looked over at him, he had a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just the way you were hitting the puck," he said, shaking his head, curls falling into his eyes. He hadn't gotten a haircut recently, and now his hair curled past his ears and touched the collar of his shirt.

"What? Do I play like a girl?" you teased.

"No, but, like, you're really graceful about it. It's not a bad thing, just different."

"Well, maybe I could teach you a thing or two about grace," you said, leaning into his side. The rest of the walk to the car was quiet, like both of you were stuck in your own heads. But when you started the car to go back to his place, you said, "Thank you. You've been...more patient than other people might've been, I think."

"You don't have to thank me for being a good friend," Harry said. "You would've done the same for me."

He was right. If something traumatic happened to him, you would've been bending over backwards to help him. Somewhere down the line, you cared enough about him that you would be devastated if he was hurt in any way. It would've hurt you to see him hurt.

"When I'm ready...you're in for a treat," you said, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't want to feel like you were shrouded by a dark cloud anymore. "

Almost like he knew what you were trying to do, Harry played along. "Oh yeah? What can I expect?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

You saw Harry shake his head in your periphery, but it was an amused shake.

This felt right, the teasing and flirting. It felt normal. You weren't one hundred percent okay, but for the first time since that night, you believed that you would be, and Harry knew it too.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #ice skater!y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #boyfriendrry

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Don't Be Shy [Loki x Fem Reader]

A link to my (new) Masterlist is here. Summary: [Oneshot] You want him. He wants you. But he's shy, and for good reason. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. S*x starved Loki. Teasing. Dirty talk. (w/c 1.9k)

You had decided. Come what may, tonight was the night you were making your move. You glanced subtly towards the god of mischief sitting cross-legged on his own, lounging diagonally on a sofa at the far side of the common room. Garish balloons floated in the air on either side of where he sat, looking comically out of place in his self-imposed fortress of solitude. He curled a loose tendril of hair behind his ear before slowly licking a fingertip, gracefully turning the page of his book.

“You know what he’s like at parties.” Thor shouted through a slur, barely audible over the music and sporadic breaks of laughter all around you. Reluctantly, you turned to the blonde looming over your shoulder. “I know, but usually he reads at the bar at least.” you scoffed, taking a sip. Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “My brother likes you, you know. He’s just shy.” He narrowed his eyes, seeing your lips twitch in a smile. “Likes you.” he continued coyly, labouring the point as he wriggled his eyebrows “...if you know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes. “I think the mini-quiches know what you mean.” The god laughed, far harder than the joke deserved. The head of his beer sloshed over the side of the glass, hitting the floor by your feet. You saw Loki’s head rise out the corner of your eye, a disapproving frown etched deep on his face. Thor leant closer. “He’s waiting for you to come to him.”

“Is he, now?” you replied innocently. “Well then...I shouldn’t keep him waiting, should I?” Shooting Thor a wink, you began to sway towards the dark-haired god. The grooves on his forehead smoothed suspiciously quickly as he composed himself, blinking several times in swift succession. Clearly, he was flustered. The skirt of your skater dress swished around your thighs as you drew closer. Loki’s intentional avoidance of you, palpable. “Hi, Laufeyson.” you said cheerfully, plonking onto the sofa beside him. He grunted in greeting, scanning the words on the page at a steady pace. Tentatively, you reached and clasped the thick of the book, sliding it from his hand. You placed it on your lap, nestled amongst the folds of black satin. Loki’s hand remained in place, poised in the air. “How rude.” he said coldly, his eyes rising to meet yours with a wolf-like squint. You smiled, tilting your head. “So is reading at a birthday party. You should talk to people.” “I don’t like talking to people at these things. Everyone is so…” he grimaced, looking towards the crowd. The team hung off each other in various stages of inebriation, laughter and raucous shouting exploding every few seconds as hits of the 90’s played at full blast. Loki sighed. “I prefer it over here. It’s quieter. And the company, infinitely better.” You scooted closer, leaning towards him as you both stared at the jovial mass of your colleagues. The movement nudged against Loki’s thigh, making him flinch. “Even if I’m here?” you said innocently as you turned your face to his, batting your lashes. The god’s jaw twitched, his façade of bravado fading. He flicked his wrist, inspecting his nails. “Perhaps.” he purred, as you drank in the tantalising sight of his curled fingers. God, they were so long. Loki smirked, running a covetous gaze down your crossed legs and back to your face. “You look very pretty tonight.” he murmured politely, straightening against the sofa with an arm outstretched over the back. “Pretty?” you tutted, as you slid his book to the side. “That isn’t quite what I was going for.”

Loki’s brows slanted. “Oh? And what were you going for, exactly?” The deep pitch of his voice wavered as he rested a hand behind his head. He was nervous. You could see each controlled breath making his chest squeeze the buttons of his shirt; clinging on for dear life. The pulse point in his neck was thundering, a faint hue of pink just visible at the tip of his ear. “Fuckable.” you heard yourself purr.

Loki swallowed.

The fingers resting in his hair tightened, chin tilting upward as he inhaled sharply through his nose. “What are you doing?” he growled. Suspicious eroticism smouldered in his irises, cheekbones flashing in the low light. “I highly recommend that you choose your next words very carefully.” The thump of your heart was deafening as his stare lowered towards the hand creeping to his knee. “I think it’s time you tell me what you want, Loki…don't you?” you said quietly, fingers cupping the muscled curve. Both of you had been dancing around this for months. The flirting, the masked innuendos. And the touching...my god. The light brush of his hands on your waist as he made his presence known; a gravelled ‘excuse me’ whisping in your ear as he passed with a lingering smoulder. “Why don’t you tell me what I want?" he rumbled. "You seem to be very sure of yourself tonight.”

You and Loki’s legs were crossed towards each other, calves grazing as you shuffled closer. Your bare skin slipped against the luxurious fabric of his suit trousers, cologne filling your nostrils, wafting from the sliver of skin visible at the top buttons of his shirt. He smelled like expensive hotels and filthy, decadent deeds. Rich oak-smoked masculinity seeping into the primal centre of your brain.

“You want me, Laufeyson…” you murmured, beginning to lightly run a fingertip up his crossed leg. The material brushed your skin with the lightest touch. Just enough to make him tingle. Loki’s breath hitched, his hips jolting back into the cushioning.

“Don’t deny it.” you whispered. Loki’s frowned, before clearing his throat. He shuffled on the sofa, the uncrossing of his legs making your hand retreat. He cast a solemn glance to the dance-floor, before focusing back on you. “I had no plans on denying it.” he drawled haughtily, a slight tremble betraying simmering depths. “I’m just a little...taken aback.” “Shy, you mean?” you murmured playfully. “Do you want me to stop?” you said, inching away. Loki’s hand flew out, grabbing your wrist. His eyes were narrowed, brow creased. “No.” he growled, letting his legs widen slowly. You wondered if he knew he had done it. “Although, I am a little...out of practice-” he cut himself off, placing your hand back on his thigh. Automatically, you squeezed the muscle of his solid femur, making him groan quietly. “Out of practice?” you cooed, shuffling so that your back was turned to the crowd by the bar. “Has the great Loki Laufeyson not gotten laid in a while?”

A whimper slid past his lips as your hand moved higher, skating lightly up his thigh. Two inches forward, one inch back. Loki shook his head. “Purely... i-intentional, you understand…” he managed through erratic breaths. You nodded sagely. “Of course.” you teased, enjoying Loki’s deepening scowl. You could see the fabric around his crotch tightening beneath the flashing lights, thick creases appearing around his hip where his cock was hardening beneath your delicate touch. The god’s smouldering eyes were filled with shameless fantasies, pupils wide with desire as you inched higher. He thrust upward lightly, a hiss filling the air between you as he grit his teeth. The swell of your cleavage heaved directly in his line of sight as your lips grazed his cheek. “Do you masturbate to me, Loki?” you whispered, a thrill rushing through your blood as you pulled back, watching his reaction.

He paused, his mouth hardening in a thin line. The god studied the curve of your knowing smile before nodding twice. Slowly. He kept his chin low on the second as your fingers trailed over the rock hard column straining against his hip. Loki let out a juddering sigh, abdominals clenching visibly beneath his perfectly fitted shirt. You drew closer once more, letting your moist lips brush against the angle of his jaw. “Do you fuck yourself to the thought of me in your empty bed, being your little plaything?” “Gods…” Loki gasped quietly, his legs trembling with the effort of resistance. You smiled. “Or maybe you would be my plaything. Would you like that?” You slid your hand up his chest, turning his face towards yours. “I bet we could teach each other so many things, Loki of Asgard.” you hummed seductively, biting your lip. “And I bet you look so fucking good on your back, palming yourself as you moan my name. Don't you?” Loki’s brows knitted together, twitching. “I can only imagine the dirty ways you've had me with that perfect cock of yours…” you groaned in his ear a final time, hearing him whimper quietly in response. “-How do you know it’s p-perfect?” he grunted, an attempt at humour in his increasingly desperate state. You laughed softly, rubbing your palm firmly up the seemingly endless shaft bound beneath the cotton. “Call it, intuition.” you murmured, pausing to suck his earlobe between your teeth.

Loki groaned again, louder this time. “Shhh…” you hushed, fighting to contain your glee. He whipped his head round, his hand flying to yours resting teasingly on his pulsing cock. Dark curls framed his exquisite face, those bottomless eyes searching yours as he looked for any hint of insincerity. His breaths short. “Truly, I would not wish to give you false hope of satisfaction. It really has been a whil-” His almond eyes widened as you pressed a finger to his lips. They were moist with breath hot with desire, the condensation of his desperation. “I’ll take care of you, Loki…” you said slowly, walking the fingers of your other hand up his flat stomach. "Don't worry about that." Every word felt like syrup, each one more laboured than the last as wet arousal slid in your panties. “I just... really...need to fuck you tonight. Does that sound like a good idea?”

Loki nodded again, eyes darkening. You slid the fingertip resting on his cupid’s bow down, grazing over his jawline as you pressed your chest to his, leaning forward to claim him with a kiss. Finally. His lips parted, gazing up at you with beautiful desperation, head resting on the back of the sofa. His submission, imminent.

“Not here.” he choked suddenly before your lips met, raising his head to eye the buzzing crowd with suspicion. “Are you ashamed of me?” you jibed with a coy smile, pawing at the next button on his shirt before spreading your palm against his chest. He was so fucking hard. “Far from it, Agent-” he growled, embers of the Loki you knew from the battlefield lighting the air around you like stars. He ground his teeth together, a low exhale making the thick vein in his neck stand erect as he leant forward. Loki’s nose traced the line of your cheekbone, exhaling sluttishly in your ear with a licentious moan. “I fear that if I were to kiss you now, I would not be able to restrain myself.” You inhaled against his skin, feeling him shudder with shameless need as his murky spiced cologne wafted hot in your nostrils. “Let’s take this party upstairs then, shall we?” you smouldered, feeling him shiver again beneath the graze of your lips.

Companion oneshot Delayed Gratification - Smut.

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki odison x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #sub loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x fem reader #loki oneshot #loki marvel #loki

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xtra7s · 3 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 ──── 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Regina invites Y/N over to 'study' :))

Content: G!P!Regina George x Reader, Dom!Regina, breeding, degrading, choking, fwb, skater!r, manipulation??

word count: 1.2k

masterlist

Regina George was known for her charm, confidence, and, of course, her exceptional ability to navigate the intricate social scene of high school. However, there was one person who seemed to exist on the fringes of her world – Y/N, the skater girl with a distinct style and a rebellious spirit that intrigued Regina.

One day, Regina decided to step out of her comfort zone and extend an unexpected invitation to Y/N.

"Hey, Y/N," Regina approached her after class with a confident smile. "I've been struggling with some of the material lately. Would you mind coming over to help me study?"

Y/N, surprised by the invitation, hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't know why you'd think I'm any smarter than you, but sure, why not?"

As the day of the study session arrived, Y/N found herself standing in front of Regina's luxurious house, feeling a bit out of place in her grunge attire. Regina dragged her into the house, leading her to Regina's bedroom where textbooks and notes were scattered.

The atmosphere felt tense initially, but as they delved into their studies, Y/N realized Regina was genuinely struggling with the material. Surprisingly, Regina's vulnerability and genuine effort to understand the subject made Y/N feel a connection.

As the evening progressed, Regina suggested taking a break. "Let's relax for a bit. I have some snacks in the kitchen."

Y/N followed Regina to the kitchen, where they started chatting about their interests, hobbies, and life in general. The conversation flowed naturally, and they discovered they had more in common than they initially thought.

Regina went to the fridge and grabbed two water bottles, reaching behind Y/N who was leaning against the kitchen island. She places the water bottles down but stays in front of Y/N, smirking at her as she places a hand beside Y/N to hold her in place.

"I didn't just invite you here to study, Y/N." She speaks lowly, leaning forward to brush her lips against Y/N's ear.

She pulled back, Regina's breath hot against Y/N's lips. Her eyes filled with desire, and their hands roamed over each other's bodies, as Regina kissed Y/N roughly. Regina caressed and explored every inch of skin exposed. Y/N's heart pounded wildly in their chest as Regina's tongue invaded her mouth, tasting every corner and crevice like a conqueror claiming new territory.

Their hips ground together, Regina's erect member rubbing against Y/N's thigh, eliciting a small moan from the latter. "I want you," Regina whispered hoarsely, her voice laced with lust.

Y/N nodded, unable to speak due to the overwhelming emotions flooding their mind. She reached down, pulling up Regina's skirt. Her cock sprang free, hardening further under Y/N's touch.

"Take off your shirt," Regina demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. Y/N obeyed without hesitation, tossing it aside unceremoniously. Her chest heaved with excitement, her nipples erect and begging for attention.

Regina wasted no time in attending to Y/N's demands, running her tongue along their collarbone before sucking gently on one nipple. Her hand found its way to Y/N's pussy, rubbing it gently through her pants. "So wet already," she murmured appreciatively, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her underwear.

Y/N gasped, arching their back into the touch. Their hips rolled back and forth, trying to get closer to Regina's hard cock. "Touch yourself," Y/N pleaded, their voice shaky with need.

Regina grinned wickedly, gripping her member firmly and stroking it slowly. "Do you want to see me cum?" she asked teasingly. "Yes," Y/N hissed, their eyeballs rolling back in pleasure. "Make yourself cum for me."

Regina pumped her cock faster, her breathing becoming more ragged as her orgasm approached. "You're so hot," she muttered, her voice thick with desire. "You make me feel things I've never felt before." Their words fueled Y/N's own desire, sparking a fire within them.

Their body shook with anticipation, their pussy throbbing in sync with Regina's rhythm. "I need you inside me," they breathed out, hot air brushing against Regina's neck as she kissed and sucked on it.

"We can't here," Regina replied, her voice shaking with desire. "We need to finish this upstairs."

Y/N nodded, biting down on their lip nervously. They knew they had to be careful - she didn't want Regina's mom catching them. Still, the thrill only added to the excitement building between them.

Their legs were weak as they walked up the stairs together, supporting each other's weight when needed. Once they reached Regina's bedroom, they fell onto the bed, their clothes following shortly after. Naked and desperate, they stared at each other for a moment before springing into action.

Y/N straddled Regina's waist, guiding Regina's member towards her wet entrance. Their eyes locked, full of raw emotion and desire. "Please," Y/N whispered, their voice hoarse with need.

Regina nodded, her hands gripping onto Y/N's hips as she lowered Y/N onto her cock. It slid smoothly inside her, filling her up completely. She gasped in pleasure, her eyes widening in pleasure from the feeling.

Their hips moved in tandem, setting a steady rhythm that matched their pounding hearts. Sweat dripped down their bodies, mixing together in a pool on the mattress below them. Their breaths came out in ragged gasps, punctuated by cries of pleasure and encouragement.

"Faster," Y/N panted, her nails digging into Regina's shoulders. "Harder." Regina complied, thrusting up into Y/N with renewed vigor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her face flushed with exertion and passion. She reached down, massaging Y/N's clit while watching their face contort with pleasure.

"I'm close," Y/N warned, her voice shaky with anticipation.

"Come with me," Regina urged, her own climax drawing near. "I wanna cum with you, slut."

Y/N nodded, her moans growing louder as her release approached. Her pussy clenched around Regina's cock, urging her onward. "Yes fuck Regina, I'm coming," she cried out, their body shaking uncontrollably.

Regina felt her own orgasm surge forth, her release imminent. With one final thrust, she shouted aloud, grasping at Y/N's neck as spasms rocked her body as she emptied herself into Y/N. Their cries merged into a symphony of ecstatic sound, filling the room with the raw intensity of their passion.

When it was all over, they collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily and clutching each other tight. Their bodies glistened with sweat and cum, a testament to the intensity of their union. For a long moment, they simply lay there, basking in the afterglow of their shared experience.

Finally, Regina spoke up, her voice soft and tender. "You're a good fuck," she said, tracing lazy circles on Y/N's back.

"I've never felt anything like that before," Y/N agreed, their breath still uneven. "It was… incredible."

Regina rolled her eyes but smiled as she kissed Y/N's forehead gently. "We should probably clean up," she suggested, pulling out of Y/N's warm embrace quickly.

They managed to disentangle themselves from one another, grabbing towels to dry off. Afterward, they dressed hastily, trying not to look at each other too long as they did so.

"Thank you," Y/N murmured, locking gazes with Regina once more, Y/N's eyes glancing down her body.

"No thanks necessary," Regina replied, her voice low and sultry. "Just promise me we can do this again soon?" She walked towards Y/N, placing a hand on her waist.

"Definitely," Y/N promised, leaning in for one final kiss before leaving. As she closed the front door behind her, a sense of contentment washed over both girls, Y/N had been fucked by her crush, and Regina had fucked someone, period.

#g!p reneé rapp #g!p regina george #regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls musical movie #mean girls #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #leighton murray x reader #leighton murray #lesbian #wlw #lgbtq #the sex lives of college girls

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shopwitchvamp · 2 months

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“Omg, I love these! They go up to size 6X AND they have pockets?! Wow!! But do you have anything longer?”

Sure do, no problem!!

“YES these are great!!! But what about.. longer?”

I gotcha!! Comin’ right up!

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about! But... how about if I'm feeling like it's the kinda day where I need my clothing to be bifurcated???"

Never fear, joggers are here!

*wild cheering* /scene

🖤witchvamp.com🖤

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taylorswiftstyle · 4 months

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Out and about | New York City, NY | January 10, 2024

Little Lies 'Sweet Jane Olive Crushed Mini' - £58.00

Me asking myself how I’m supposed to live through the remainder of 2024 when we are officially 11 days in and 3 greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen outfits deep. Please hold me in your thoughts.

There’s almost a ballerina quality to this crushed velvet dress - from the soft material to the rounded scoop neckline, and fluttering skirt. Besides the rep-coded nature of its mottled green colour (I could even make the folkmore case for it being very foresty and moss-like) what I love is its sense of familiarity and how it calls back to the skater style dresses and skirts that Taylor has worn and loved throughout her career. This one by a new-to-her Scottish designer.

Worn with: Vivienne Westwood bag and Jimmy Choo x Jean Paul Gaultier boots

Photo by Robert Kamau via Getty Images

#taylor swift #candid #dress #little lies #january 2024

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ramblingoak · 6 months

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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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