#that the bad we saw today is not a new person. and i think keeping the name the same helps and fits better
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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.
but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.
i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.
so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.
you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."
i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"
"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.
i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.
and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.
you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."
"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."
you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.
i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"
"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."
"do i die?"
you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."
"oh."
"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."
i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.
i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.
"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."
i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.
you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."
"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.
you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."
"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.
i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."
you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."
"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."
"you could always die, to be fair."
i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"
"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."
i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."
"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."
i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"
"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."
i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"
i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.
"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."
you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.
you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.
i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.
#warm up#prose#i just realized that there's a horror film in there about being someone NOT in a loop.#if i wanted to make it longer i'd have them come back like SUPER battered and hellish.#on round like 999#like halfway through lunch like - YOU . I LOVE U . IM SORRY . I RUINED IT BC I LOVE U CANT U SEE THAT#but like. yeah man what happens when someone else in control of ur destiny#what happens to all the versions of u that DO die...#i also wanted a pre-redemption time looper - this person#(who in my brain is they/them)#is absolutelyyyyyy toying with the narrator bc the time looper is caught up in like#an emo angsty '' i can't have what i want bc i ruin things'' self harm spiral#and like literally the way out of that spiral is to TRY bud.#but this is a person pre-redemption. still kind of an ass. still not really listening to her#still a little bit ignoring that they kissed someone 3 days ago#still KNOWS she likes them and DOES like her back. but is just too chickenshit still.#we're talkin that person we've ALL dated that's like ''i can't be with u anymore bc i am Too Broken and I Can't Stand Hurting U"#... i imagine they grow up tho. eventually.
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SILLY PROPOSAL TO FELLOW GHOSTIES- ive got a little idea about the names q!Bad vs q!Halo
so some of us have been calling this freshly resurrected Bad q!Halo, right? And I think that's a super cool name. BUT. I do agree with some ppl I saw saying that it doesn't fit too well for him, because he is still so obviously himself, just confused and missing memories.
SO HERE IS MY PROPOSAL:
Since this is still the q!Bad we know and love, just a little mixed up right now, we call THIS GUY q!Bad:
Second Part of the proposal. I really like the name q!Halo. I think it looks cool. SO i'd like to keep using it. AND WE HAVE A PERFECT CANDIDATE. We don't know much about him yet... but maybe soon we will. SO. I propose to you that the Mysterious BadBoyHalo in the Nether, surrounded by skulk, wielding a Netherite Sword, should be given the super cool new moniker q!Halo.
The man himself..... Now it'll be easier to refer to this mysterious character instead of the whole description, and we get to keep using the name qHalo!
THIS IS A SUGGESTION THOUGH. YOU DON'T GOTTA LISTEN TO ME, I'M JUST A SILLY GOOSE. But I think it'd be really cool and I wanted to see if you guys liked the idea.
love you ghosties <3 <3 <3
#qsmp#q!badboyhalo#q!bbh#q!bad#q!halo#i just like when names and symbols match and embody the things they are portraying. and i think it's useful to remind ourselves#that the bad we saw today is not a new person. and i think keeping the name the same helps and fits better#but i really liked the Halo name (angel enjoyer what can i say) and wanted to be able to still use it yk?#and i am mega intrigued by this creepy Other Bad and i think the name fit well#idk idk im rambling#oddly posting#btw this also means that if you see me referring to “qHalo” it's mr. sansboyhalo himself im talking about and not friendly red clothes bad#SORRY IF THIS IS ANNOYING OR ANYTHING I JUST THINK IT'D BE COOL FEEL FREE TO IGNORE ME
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Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee
dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.
jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3
#i had a couple different ideas for poems that were taken by the time i could go deranged for a couple hours to make this but as I looked#i was like WAIT NONE OF YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE JASON ROBERTSON YOU HAVEN’T SEEN MY TEXAS CAM and had to do it. also was STRUCK with the#sudden immaculate vision of the Dallas D as part of terfenol-D and could not get it out & robo is the most dance! person i know on the team#liv in the replies#dallas stars#jason robertson#nhl periodic table poems#guys i am plagued with visions and no execution skills!! every day i come here and learn one new skill on GIMP the way god intended!!!#today it was emboss. also cannot claim any credit for the pulse to the magnetic beat photo which is so cool that was one where i had a#couple and was like maybe i can do like crayon shockwaves like the art process video kasper showed? and then found that picture and was#like thank you lord stanley for knowing my limitations. thank you for your understanding in this moment it was a trial enough to make#expand contract dance and one would THINK i would have fucking learned from the claude animorphs tragedy!! i did not. but i did use the#shear tool and 3D rotate so at least if we’re animorphing it’s SLIGHTLY better. anyway me frantically doing this like WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT#WAIT FOR ME YOU GUYS ARE SO FAST i keep seeing all of these and just spinning around in circles until i get dizzy & fall down I’m so happy#the drive folder for this is just called joy!!!!! because joy this is such a cool idea but now because it brings me so much joy#i just saw the Travis dermott one and burst into tears super normal AND someone did exactly what i wanted with hydrogen which was the water#the ice!!!!! it’s so perfect!!! and cody ofc did silver lord stanley. like does it ever make you cry how beautiful & creative everyone is?#anyway if you see me post and delete this and then update it or change it no you didn’t it’s fine. but i wanted to be included#if i could make the dysprosium letters not have a white background i would I simply could not fuck with it at 1AM. we are hitting send#it may not look like it but i queue#pretend i spoke at length about the reasons why i picked all the pictures & the element just know that it’s there inside my brain u can ask#GUYS I TAKE IT ALL BACK I SAW NEONFRETRA’S ISOTOPES AND I COULD MAKE THE EDITS EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE THERE!! ISOTOPES!!!! YOU GUYS!!!!!!#get ready for the edits then. dylan magnesium my beloved child of stars who can never return… like i wish i could say anyone else but it’s#i KNOW number nineteens bismuth don’t make me Google how many years nolan played hockey but also there’s ej for stable so.. also half-life#actinium claude giroux my beloved… when i saw there already was a claude i thought maybe Brady too for that#I don’t know how but flerovium doubled magic is percolating in my brain as was promethium bad boy because I was like hmmm. tyler. but#couldn’t commit and THEN SOMEONE DID BAD BAD LEROY BROWN TYLER BERTUZZI TO PROMETHIUM AND BESTIE I AM KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH!!! with cons#anyway shane wright germanium with juraj slafkovský but showing him very obviously not missing it. if jack eichel was not an asshole#the narratives WOULD be narrativing. you could argue for a sidovi here with the calder cup and potentially a best friend stealing narrative#(the most recent is cam yorke’s acquisition of jamie d from trevor zegras which would then require a yorkie one for silicon the other side)
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not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go
(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)
#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill#well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst#like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc.#so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made#bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you#but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings#and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste#there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc#so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously)#but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything#if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is#which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose#anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate.#and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic!#if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it.#like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages#or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing#i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know#it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess#as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence#the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education#i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is-#writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl-#will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype#sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions#like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of-#'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity#like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem#but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.
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The Red King holds a Bleeding Head
A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 4.
When things do not go well, they continue to not go well.
This is the feared Dorm Head Riddle Rosehearts. This abridged story's Red Queen, the Rose-Red Tyrant. And to you the most frightening title of all, the Head of a Dorm full of controlling yanderes.
Ace wasn't very smart. That was the first thing. Rule of thumb, don't bad mouth someone when you haven't checked first to make sure they aren't around.
Second thing, of all the ways to officially meet Riddle Rosehearts, this was had to be the worst way. Immediately after Ace's smear campaign. Are you unlucky? You feel unlucky.
Well, here we are, no turning back now.
Whatever you do next, it's all based on Riddle's reaction to Ace's stupidity. Riddle's face is tight in a scowl, arms tightly crossed and you can feel the glare going through Ace right now. Let's hope this doesn't end with an actual beheading.
Cater jumps in to damage control, "Hey Riddle! What's shakin', pal." That was so forced, it might as well have been written by a computer, and not said by a chronically online person. "You're lookin' adorbs, as always!"
Riddle's scowl softens, maybe there's hope. "Hmph, Cater, keep running that mouth and you'll lose it - along with the rest of your head." Nope, no there isn't. When was there ever? Riddle's face may have softened but his temper sure hadn't. Is he always like this?
How can he so casually threaten doing the magician's equivalent of an amputation for an greeting he didn't like!? Maybe your plan was doomed from the start. Does this guy even have friends?
Still, you're not trying to actually be friends. You're looking for allies to use in cases of emergencies. So you'll bite your tongue.
"Sorry, sorry! My bad!" Cater shuts up, faster than you ever seen him so far.
Grim probably seem can't read the room, because he tries to square up with the magic severing Dorm Head with a fuse shorter than Grim himself. "Myah?! You're the guy who put that stupid collar on me at the orientation ceremony!"
Riddle doesn't miss a beat, and throws it back at your foolish feline friend. "And you're the new students who were nearly expelled earlier this week. I'll ask that you not refer to my signature spell as a 'stupid collar" Ok, shitty start so far.....
He glares directly at you next, and you hadn't even said anything yet! "The headmaster's habit of tolerating rulebreakers like you is going to send this entire campus spiraling into chaos one day." You tighten your jaw around your the tip of your tongue. Don't say anything. Just don't say anything.
"Those who break the rules should have their heads removed immediately, without exception." You can taste blood in your mouth, but you won't say a word against his little slander rant. Even if Ace and Grim are sending this plan downhill at the speed of an avalanche, you will persevere.
Unlike you, Ace doesn't seem to know when to shut his big fat mouth, because even after that, and how this conversation started in the first place, he doesn't shut up, "Dude, seriously? This guy looks like a wimp but he sounds like a monster," You hear Ace hiss under his breath. You only hope Riddle didn't hear it.
This polite insult-laden speech finally draws to a close. "The headmaster may have forgiven you, but if you break any further rules, I assure you I will not."
Ace, pulling the idiot card from the deck once again, chooses now to get his collar off his neck. Perfect. "So, uh, listen, Dorm Leader, sir..." Off to a wonderful start, Ace. "Any chance i could get you to remove this collar?"
The response wasn't a surprise. It was expected, really, "I had intended to remove it once you'd taken an opportunity to reflect upon your crimes," So, no. Yay, Ace is stuck in your dorm tonight...."But I've not detected so much as a hint of remorse in the foolishness I've heard you spout today. So I think I'll let you keep that for a while." Saw that coming a mile away.
You tune out the reassurance that he offers regarding school life, more concerned with the fact Ace will be alone with you tonight, again.
"Now, if you've finished your meal, you should quit gossiping and prepare for your next class. Rule 271 is quite clear: One must leave the table within five minutes of completing their lunch."
There are over two hundred rules...? You'd scanned the first fifty rules of the Queen of Hearts, before stopping under the reasonable belief that no one actually followed these insane rules. Was that too much to hope for?
This time his ire is pointed directly at Ace, "You DO understand what happens to rulebreakers I trust?"
Ace sighs, "More insane rules...."
Riddle's eyebrow twitches in irritation, "I believe you mean to say, 'Yes, Dorm Leader!'"
"Yes Dorm Leader," Ace and Deuce yell, and you felt nearly compelled. He's like a dictator threatening his troops.
"Very well then."
Trey tries to calm Riddle down, "Don't worry I'll keep an eye on them."
Riddle eyes Trey with skepticism, "Hmm. As Vice Dorm Leader, I trust you'll avoid any further indiscreet conversation."
Trey is the Vice? Why didn't he tell you guys? Is he trying to hide something. Or, is he trying to separate himself from a certain tyrannical dictator.
Riddle seems satisfied now that he's said, read ordered, his piece. "Now, as per rule 339: The post-meal beverage is to be lemon tea with two sugar cubes. Thus I must go acquire my sugar cubes. Farewell." As he walks away you can hear him mutter under his breath, "Don't even get me started on their violation of running out of sugar cubes....!" Is he ever happy? If you can nitpick every single detail and violation then how do you find any joy in your life? No wonder he's such a jerk to his own dorm mates.
Is it even possible to get him to forgive you? Much less befriend you?
"Yeesh!" Cater exclaims, "That was terrifying."
"That guy......has some serious issues." says Grim. "I don't think serious is enough of a word to describe this...." You agree.
"Hey, we shouldn't disrespect him.." Deuce sounds like wants to agree with you but can't.
You shake your head. "I don't think we're the only ones who think that your Dorm Leader is a bit nuts." You can hear the fearful murmurs of some other Heartslabyul students, relieved that Riddle didn't collar them.
Cater and Trey don't argue against your claim, and that speaks enough in itself. Two upperclassmen are too afraid to even deny what you had said. Trey's smile now feels forced as he explains, "Riddle managed to secure the Dorm Leader title before the end of his very first week at school. I know he can come off a bit harsh, but-"
You cut him off, "Trey, no offense but over half of your dorm mates are cowering in fear because Riddle walked over here. I don't think he comes off a bit harsh. I think he is harsh."
"I know....but" But it doesn't seem like even he believes that, "he's not a bad guy inside. Everything he does, he does because he thinks it'll improve the dorm."
"Would a good guy go around putting collars on strangers' necks?" Trey and Cater laugh awkwardly but they can't deny it. So Grim actually is right.
"So what's this signature spell he mentioned?"
"Hm? You're curious about Riddle's signature spell?"
"That means, like.....it's a spell that only he can cast, right?"
"I doubt he's the only person in the whole world....But yes, a signature spell is a magical ability that is, generally speaking, unique to its user." It might be best you remember this. If there's magic unique to the user, could that magic be dangerous against you? Riddle's own seals off magic, so you're not in immediate danger thanks to that. But you still don't know about the rest of the Heartslabyul students you know. What exactly is their Unique Magic? Does Grim have one?
"Which is why all of us at Heartslabyul House try hard not to violate Riddle's rules." But back to the present issue, Riddle's magic sounds terrifying to magic users. So that does explain why Heartslabyul lives in fear.
"And as long as you are following the rules, Riddle isn't so scary." And that's all you needed to know. If he is kinder to those who follow the rules, then you just had to be a teacher's pet, or a dorm leader's pet. Wait, that sounds wrong either way.
"Speaking of which- are you still not gonna let me into the dorm until I buy a tart, Cater?"
"Don't @ me, but yeah. That's rule 53, so my hands are tied."
"Isn't that taking this too far? Sure, Ace stole something but he still lives in that dorm. Kicking him out is too harsh of a punishment."
"Riddle really looks forward to having the first slice of a tart. So he won't forgive you unless you come back with a whole tart."
Perfect. So all you have to do is find a tart and all will be well. You're starting to realise that that is a whole lot of fat chance served on a plate. Maybe Ace will steal it, and cut you a break.
But as it turns out, Ace is flat broke, so he can't just go buy a tart to replace it with. You would happily just go buy one to save your own ass, but Crowley (the bastard) is yet to give you any money.
Thankfully, Trey offered a solution that would work, make a tart on the cheap and give that to Riddle. You also learned he was a talented baker, which sounds like something you might take advantage of in the future but priorities.
You hope that the tart plan does work, because if you have to do an entire run around for a honestly exhausting wild tart chase is becoming very annoying...
"Riddle wants a chestnut tart next, so I'm gonna need you to gather a ton of chestnuts."
"Like that's any less of a hassle. But.....fine. How many do you need?"
"Well, it's for the unbirthday party, so....Probably two or three hundred?" You choke on your own spit.
"S-Sorry, HUNDRED!?" You splutter.
"And they're all gonna need to be boiled, shelled and pureed." What you do to get Ace out of your house. It may seem that easy to just make a tart and be forgiven, but with how complicated this whole thing had been so far, things will probably be more difficult.
Whatever you have Grim and Deuce to help-
"Alright, I'm gonna head out." "I'm leaving too."
Why are you even surprised. You would have done the same really.
"You heartless cowards!" Ace objects from the abandonment and betrayal. But to be honest, considering he caused this whole mess because he couldn't keep his fingers out of someone's tarts, and the fact he exposed you to another obsessive psycho, you really want to leave him to his own devices.
Before you can jump in with a BS-laden speech to persuade them Cater thankfully jumps in. "Hold up! Haven't you ever heard that food tastes better if you make it with your friends? This'll be a memory to treasure! It could even be your chance to make a splash as a cooking blogger!"
Trey even proves useful, "Don't tell Riddle, but chestnut tarts are at their tastiest when eaten right out if the oven.. And the only people who get to experience that culinary privilege are the ones who make it."
That's enough to convince Grim, "Well, when you put it that way...Come on, humans, let's do this!"but you doubt that's the same for Deuce. But where you'll go, he'll follow.
"I'm only helping because it will mean you're back in your dorm sooner, Ace. You gonna help, Deuce?"
Deuce smiles at you. "S-Sure, Prefect." You're starting to get the hang of this.
Later, you'd focus on Ace's apology tart. Right now, you'd focus on your own. The apology, not the tart part.
After getting the cut in your tongue treated, you'd asked Ace and Deuce to go to class with Grim without you to get something private done. They'd both pushed to go with you but you managed to shut that down.
With what you had planned, you needed Ace, Deuce and Grim away from you. To prevent any unwanted incidents like accidentally sending Riddle off in an angry fit.
You had a plan, so you just needed to start that plan.
So here you were back in the cafeteria, searching for a head of red hair and there he was sipping a cup of lemon tea with exactly two sugars, if you remembered the rules right, completely alone with only thick tomes for company.
You don't bother yourself worrying about the implications of the him sipping tea all on his lonesome. That's not your priority right now.
You tap Riddle's shoulder, "Excuse me? Riddle Rosehearts, was it?" you say as politely as possible.
He first gives you a look of chagrin, only for it to relax when he realises that you're alone. "You are correct. Have you come to cause more trouble and break more rules?"
His suspicion is warranted, but you've prepared for that. "Actually, I'm here to apologize to you specifically for all the trouble I caused." His eyes widen in surprise. He wasn't expecting that. Alright, here we go. "May I sit with you?" You say, allowing a small smile grace your lips.
He snaps out of his surprise at your question, but he doesn't reject you. After a few moments of silence, he finally says, "I-I'll allow it." He motions to the empty seat in front of him, and you accept the seat with another smile and a word of thanks.
Alright, step one of the potentially dangerous plan, apologise the the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader. "I'm sorry about bothering you like this. I'm sure you'd rather spend the time around your friends rather than a troublemaker."
He doesn't answer for a few seconds, "I'd rather spend my time in solitude than in the company of troublemakers," he responds. Does he not have friends? That answer makes you feel that the answer to the question is a yes. "However, you wish to apologise for your violations, so I'll humor your presence." Ok, so far so good. "Well, I should get the apologies out the way. I'm sorry about all the trouble I've caused since I've been here. Grim during the ceremony, accidentally damaging the Great Seven statues and destroying the chandelier. I hadn't meant to."
Riddle frowns, setting aside his teacup to cross his arms, "One should not apologise whilst making excuses." he recites as if he'd heard or said that a thousand times. He really is a stickler for the rules.
"What rule of the Queen of Hearts is that?" You ask, with how many there are you really need to remember them.
He shakes his head, "It isn't one. It's one of my mother's." Let's not touch that, insulting someone's mother is the fastest way to piss someone off.
You take a deep breath before continuing, "Well, then I'm also sorry for making excuses for my behaviour. I hope you can forgive me."
Riddle's silent for another few seconds, as if contemplating the validity of your apology. You feel yourself stop breathing in anticipation.
Finally, he answers, "It's rare for a troublemaker to be genuinely repentant, so I'll accept your apology. However, I won't be as forgiving should you choose to continue breaking the rules." So he is capable of forgiving troublemakers, that means Ace will eventually be back in his own dorm.
"Thank you." you let out a sigh of relief. Alright, time for stage two. Suck up like the worst kind of teacher's pet, "If you don't mind me asking, could you maybe teach about the rules of the Queen of Hearts?"
Riddle chokes on a sip of his tea, and looks at you in incredulity "Y-You what?"
"I want you to teach me about the rules of the Queen of Hearts, so if I ever break any of them I can't use ignorance as an.....excuse?" You trail off as you find Riddle completely stunned, has this never happened before? Has no one bothered to ask him to help them learn the rules so they could avoid breaking them?
"W-Well, it seems you really are trying to atone for your mistakes. If that is the case, then yes." He pauses, before offering you a cup of tea, smelling of sweet citrus, " Would you like some?"
If it's lemon, you don't want to drink it. The citric acid in the lemon will burn your tongue like hell. But there are unfortunately rules. "Are they any rules that say whether I can say yes or no?" You're not failing if this is a test.
Riddle smiles at you, "You learn quickly, Rule 114, One must never reject a cup of tea from the Queen." You, against your better judgement, accept it and take a sip and the tea burns the cut on your tongue but you force it down nonetheless. In the name of Future you's safety you would do what you had to. As long as it goes down without objection, you'll drink as fast as you can to dull the burn.
"Perhaps there is hope for you, even with that unignorable violation." Riddle says and you hesitate in your next sip.
"And what is that?" You ask, before taking another mouthful of tea.
He spares a few glances around as if looking for any eavesdroppers before dropping his voice into a hushed whisper, "That you are a darling attending Night Raven."
You choke, how does everyone keep knowing?! "H-How did you know?!" You ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"I was taught to recognise all the traits your kind has as soon as I was registered." How many of those were there?! Besides all the darlings here can't be exactly like you, that would just be impossible. Right?
Riddle continues, "That and you remind me of my father, kind and bubbly when you are surrounded by people you do think are trustworthy and jumpy and frightful when you think you are surrounded by those you don't. Subtly is not exactly your strong point."
You deflate like a balloon. You carefully set down the teacup before it breaks in your hands. "Are...Are you going to tell anyone?"
He shakes his head, "No, and while I feel your presence at this school is a travesty that Crowley has allowed to happen, you attempting to hide your identity keeps the members of my dorm from killing each other. You must understand it is quite difficult to mix paint in manner that hides the smell of blood." They kill people and mix their blood with the paint. Oh, shit, did...did you paint with blood earlier!?
"So I suggest you figure out how to circumvent your little issue." He finishes.
But that's impossible thanks to that stupid law, "But how do I do that if I can't access any of the things you can?" You ask.
"Your testing papers, all darlings have the legal right to see them after their registered. Headmaster Crowley should be able to give them to you if you request them. You'll be able to tell with those." Riddle gives you the first answer that actually helps you.
All you need to get Crowley to give you those papers and you'll be free to figure out how to save your skin.
You sag in relief, finally some good news. And then you remember, "Wait, why are you helping me?"
"Because it will keep you out of trouble. Speaking of, I expect your attendance at the unbirthday party tomorrow, so that I can keep an eye on you."
"Thank you." You whisper, for once you actually feel relieved. You were wrong about earlier it seems, he isn't as bad as you though he was.
"Now, Rule 71 of the Queen of Hearts states that one must never arrive on time, always early. You should leave now, before the bell rings." You nod, rising from your seat as he does the same.
"Thank you for everything. See you tomorrow, " You say with a smile before turning heel.
If only you hadn't failed to see how his face flushed and how he grabbed his heart as you left.
The woodland behind campus were surprisingly bright and vibrant, like a painting you would see in picture books, even with the change seasons coming up. As it seems the chestnut season is equally vibrant, as hundreds upon hundreds of chestnuts covered the forest floor. But the chestnut spines were too much of a bother to ignore, so here you were in the Botanical Garden looking for a basket and some work gloves.
The gardens are stunning, full of life and thousands of plants. Some you recognise, some you don't. The whole building is enormous. Finding anything here is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Which means you have to split up to find what you need. "We should split up, we'll cover more ground that way."
Ace and Deuce open their mouths to object, "But-"
You're not wasting any time on them coming with you and taking longer. Besides having two bodyguard/friends feels a little suspicious.
"We're going to spend the rest of the night making tarts, we don't exactly have time to waste..." You argue and they don't fight back against this.
".....Sure. Dibs on the right side."
"Then how about I go left, while Prefect and Grim go straight ahead?"
"Sounds good, we'll meet up here at the entrance in 10."
You immediately regretted your decision to split up, as Grim got distracted every ten seconds by all the ripe, sweet smelling fruit. So you spent the five minutes that you were supposed to spend looking for a groundsman, chasing after your 'boss'.
"Hey, come take a look at this!" Grim runs to another bright, ripe fruit. "There's a ton of fruit growing here! Smells like they're ripe."
You grab his tiny body and yank him away from the fruit on the tree. "Grim, we're supposed to find a groundsman, not snacks!" You don't recognise any of the plants in this section. They all look mystical, but that doesn't mean safe. "Don't pick anything."
Grim wriggles loose to run to chase after another bright and shiny fruit. The grasses here are tall enough to reach your waist, and Grim disappears into the long stalks, "Grim. Stop!" Grim doesn't listen to you. "Don't pick anything!" You yell out as you wade through the tall grasses after him.
You stumble over the lush stalks of grass. It's so thick that you can't see your own feet. You hope there aren't any animals-
"Ngh!" A groan of pain fills the air and you feel something underfoot slip out and you reflexively take a few steps back. That didn't sound like an animal...
"Did I just step on something?" You think aloud, looking around for a source as a nearby patch of grass starts to rustle.
"Hey! You got some nerve steppin' on my tail and just walkin' away!" To your surprise, someone rises out of the grass, and he looks angry. Crap.
Originally, your brain had failed to compute the 'tail' part of what he'd said, but it's obvious to you now that you see his ears. He's a beastman. And he's wearing the Savanaclaw colours. Wait, didn't Cater say that Savanaclaw students like fighting. Shit.
"I-I'm sorry!" You say immediately, taking a few more steps backwards. You feel compelled to run.
"Tch. Ain't nothin' worse than bein' in the middle of a good nap and havin' some jerk step on your tail." Ok, no. He's the one who decided to sleep in waist high grass. Be mad at yourself for your bad decision making, buddy.
Despite how you feel, "It was an accident...." is what you mumble instead, but he doesn't seem to care, instead he stalks towards you, with a smirk on his face. "You.....I know you. You're that herbivore from orientation who couldn't use magic."
"What did you call me?!" You demand, outraged. He still ignores you, and he leans forward and..."And why are you smelling me?!"
He ignores you, pulling away with that punchable smirk. "Huh. It's true. You don't smell of magic at all."
"Did you miss the part where the mirror said that to everyone?!" You can feel yourself losing every ounce of your patience. You'd felt apologetic for accidentally stepping on his tail and waking him up, but this guy was being such a jerk, you no longer found it within yourself to care.
"Well, well, well, the little herbivore thinks she has claws. Can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone like you. Still gonna do it, though."
"Do what?" You spit through gritted teeth. You clench and unclench your fists.
"No one gets to stomp on my tail and just walk away without payin' the price."
Ok, that's fucking it. You aren't a weak darling, and all the earlier rage and anger that you've felt in the last two days.
"Then maybe don't sleep in waist-high grass, and maybe in your dorm next time? That way no one will step on your tail" You say as sarcastically as possible.
"Hm? Herbivore, I'm afraid you're all bark and no bite." Oh? All bark and no bite, mystery animal man? Let's see how he bites your fist when it flies into his-
You tighten your fist before taking a swing aimed at his jaw. With his face so close to yours, he has no way of moving out of the way in time-
He stops your fist just shy of his face. He gives you an unimpressed look, before replacing it with that fucking smirk. He laughs at you, like you were foolish to even think that would work. His grip on your wrist is so tight that you wince as you struggle to twist it away.
"L-Let me go!" He laughs at your pathetic struggles to free yourself.
"Pathetic, like a mouse trying to kill a lion." He's a lion? Well then, what an arrogant asshole he is.
You struggle fruitlessly for a few more moments, before giving up. "Fuck you." You spit.
"You're a brave herbivore, I'll give you that. Still," His already tight grip feels like it's crushing the bones in your wrist. "You woke me up from my nap, that'll cost you a tooth."
"Fine. Take it." You hiss. Maybe you can get him in trouble for darling abuse or something after this. Would Crowley take you to a dentist?
"Leona! There you are!"
"Heh?" Leona turns to someone, and you follow his gaze to another beastman student, wearing the colours from the same house Leona is. His cocky, arrogant face tightens in annoyance.
The new mystery beastman looks like he's spent the time since last bell chasing down Leona. "I knew I'd find you here! We got after-school classes today, remember?"
Leona groans. "And now, I've got this guy on my tail...." You can hear him mutter.
You take the chance to do something stupid, rewarding in the moment but still stupid. Ah, whatever you only live once.
"What's wrong, Carnivore? Too afraid to bite?" You taunt, throwing his own words around and right back at him.
He glares at you. But the beastman speaks up before Leona can actually break your wrist. "Leona, you've already had to repeat one year. If you get held back again, we'll be in the same grade." You snort from repressed laughter, trying to hold back your laughter before the person holding your wrist captive decides killing you is better just breaking your wrist.
"Oh, put a sock in it already. I'm tired of all yer yappin', Ruggie."
Ruggie frowns, "Look, you think I like always being on your case? C'mon man. You act like it'd be hard for you. You could skate through life if you'd just TRY. Come on! Let's go already!"
Leona finally releases your wrist and you wince as blood returns to your fingers. "Hmph...Herbivore, you better not cross me again."
"Oh, I'll be sure not to." You turn, and walk as confident as possible through the tall prairie grass back into the fruit trees.
It was nice to actually be in control for once.
You eventually find Grim half finished eating a dozen multi-coloured unknown fruit. You don't feel as mad as you were earlier. So you don't bother with the scolding that you originally planned on giving him. Instead you scoop him up like a bag a rice.
"Nyeh?!" Grim exclaims in surprise, "Henchman, where'd you come from?!"
"Nowhere, I thought you already ate your weight in lunch earlier?"
Two familiar voices fill your ears.
"Yo, guys, we found the baskets and gloves."
"Prefect, what in the world happened to you?" And you smile.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
You feel a little better now.
You feel worse now.
Not in a bad mood, just tired. A sleepless night would do that, then harvesting about three hundred chestnuts on your hands and knees plus hauling them back to the communal kitchens.
And now here you stood struggling to peel the soft skins of the chestnuts.
Deuce and Grim are lucky because they have the magic that Trey showed them to magically and quickly peel them, but you, a poor magicless human, must fiddle with sticky skins. Ace, forced to do this the old fashioned way, is struggling equally with the much higher pile that he'd been delegated for getting you all into this mess.
Still, it was actually fun to see the 'friendly' competition Ace and Deuce went through as Ace struggled to keep up with the magical efficiency.
Problem was, you were so much slower.
"Need any help?" Trey asks. He'd stopped supervising Deuce with his peeling. And he's looking at you with"You look like your having a hard time."
"Yeah...I've never really done this before...." You reply, still fiddling with the finicky skins.
"Here." He places his hands over your own, directing your fingers into a proper hold. "Like this." You can feel his chest against your back, his head over one of your shoulders. He smells nice, like a bakery right after the oven is opened and the sweet aroma of warm pastries has filled the air. The shell holding the nut finally gives way, done with your hands and guided by Trey's.
"Thanks", you say with a smile.
"It's no problem", he returns with his own smile. "Do you want help with the others?" He feels friendly, and you can't see that glint. Maybe it's his glasses.
"Sure." You respond.
With Trey's help, you start to fly through the pile of chestnuts that you'd once struggled to peel. You can actually keep up with Ace and Deuce in their chestnut peeling, being only a few dozen behind.
It's like painting the roses earlier, you like the serenity that you feel as you do this. The same when you were straining, and pureeing. Despite the fact you were willingly unwillingly roped into this, it's actually quite relaxing maybe you could talk to Trey about teaching you.
After what had to be a good two hours, straining and pureeing three hundred chestnuts, Ace finally groans in relief "There! Finally got 'em all pureed!"
"My arm is killing me..."
"Well at least it's over.." You agree as you massage the ache in your forearms. Deuce and Ace actually did most of the work for you, but you still tried to help. And now your arms hurt more than your legs.
"Nice work. It'll be all the sweeter for your pain!"
"Are you sure about that?" You say with a laugh. But seriously, your muscles hurt. It better be sweet for all the work that it better be.
"The smell alone already has me droolin'." You manage to grab Grim before he sticks his paws into the puree. You're not letting everyone's hard work to waste.
"I just need to add butter and sugar to the chestnut paste, and a sensible splash of oyster sauce- that's my secret ingredient." Oh, cool then you'll be done soon. Wait...
Your brain fills in the blanks. "Did you just say oyster sauce?" You say in utter disbelief. Maybe Trey shouldn't teach you how to bake....
"Yep. The umami of the oysters gives the cream a deep, savory flavor." He can't be serious, can he? Are desserts different here? Because last you checked a sweet dessert wasn't supposed to taste like salt.
"I use this one here: Walrus-brand Young Oyster Sauce. All the best bakers use it in their tarts." Your brain tunes him out in utter disbelief. Was this place just completely fucked? Because you'd have to dig through the mold on the underside of the barrel to actually find this madness. It's not the scariest thing or the most insane thing you heard in this misadventure, but an insane thing nonetheless.
Deuce actually seems to believe him, at least a little, "Really? But isn't oyster sauce like, super salty?"
Apparently so does Ace, "Some folks put chocolate into curry, don't they? Maybe it's the same idea." No, Ace. Whether it's pineapple on pizza or chocolate in curry, whether you like or hate it, it is not a total abomination of the culinary world. Oyster sauce in a chestnut tart cream is.
"You guys......are messing with me right?" You say, still in disbelief.
"Pfft...Ah ha ha ha!" Trey laughs, is he mad? If this dorm is Wonderland, is he actually the Mad Hatter and not the three of clovers.
"I'm totally lying! No one in their right mind would put oyster sauce into a pastry." You breathe a sigh of relief, okay this world wasn't completely far gone.
"Let that be a lesson to you. Don't believe everything you hear."
"Feh. And here I thought that human was actually somewhat decent." Grim murmurs.
"It wasn't that bad." Out of all the things you'd experienced this week, let alone today, this was by far the most tame. At least he revealed the lie, before Ace poured oyster sauce in the cream.
Trey has to be the most tame person you met so far, it's actually hard to connect that he's supposed to be a yandere and not a normal friendly dude with a hidden mischievous side.
That reminder isn't a fun one, but he seems perfectly nice...you hope.
"Next, I'll put in the cream....Oh!"
"What's wrong?"
"You guys gathered so many chestnuts that we may have overdone it with the chestnut paste. I don't think we have enough cream to mix in."
"Then I'll go buy some." Deuce volunteers himself, "Do they sell it at the school store?"
Thankfully, according to Trey, it does. You haven't been there yet, but no better time to find out like the present.
"I don't think I'll be able to carry all that back. ___-"
"I'll go with you." Whatever gets you back here faster. As soon as Ace gives Riddle this tart back tonight, you'll be in the clear. If he doesn't you're stuck with him tonight.
Deuce ended up calling this shop wild. Wild is an understatement. The shop is full of....everything. From fruits to stationary, and crystal skulls to rare plants. There's even a restricted access section, with locked cabinets full of freshly sharpened short and long blades to guns to pre-made potions filled with unknown fluids.
It's a perfect one stop shop for students, and for criminals.
"Do you really think they sell cream in here?" Grim says incredulously. Grim ended up tagging along, and looks equally mystified from all the products this 'school' store as to offer.
"I'm not-"
"Greetings, my stray imps, How fare you today?" You yelp as you reel back in surprise. The shopkeeper appeared quite literally from nowhere. "Welcome to Mr.Sam's Mystery Shop. What among my humble selection interests you? A charm from a secluded land? The mummified remains of an ancient king? A cursed tarot card?"
Ok, a name, the shopkeeper's name is Sam...something. And humble is modest understatement. You're pretty sure that this place makes the mega department stores back home look empty.
"How about some cream...for baking?" With so much stuff here, you feel a little overwhelmed.
"Y-Yeah, we wanted to buy all the items on this list."
"Ring up two cans of tuna while you're at it!"
"With what money, Grim?"
"Yes, Grim! We're not here for tuna!"
"What's this? Cream and eggs and....Quite the sacchariferous list! I'll get everything for you." It's impressive that he even knows that he has everything. With all the stuff here, you wouldn't even notice something strange or normal on these shelves. There's animals skulls, jewellery, weird taxidermy, even a weird shadow hand waving at you.
.......Y'know what, who cares. You wave back just in time for Sam to return with all your groceries. That was fast.
"Here you go. It's pretty heavy.....Are you sure you can carry this?Luckily for you, our 1/100th size flying saucers are 30% off today. Perfect for carrying groceries!"
Grim falls for the advertising, but Deuce stops him before he spends your nonexistent money. "We're fine, thank you. Let's go."
"Myah! I didn't realize today was National No Fun Allowed Day!"
"You're allowed to have fun as long as you don't make a mess." He deflates, "Grim, if it makes you feel better I'll give you an extra can of tuna for dinner." he perks up at that.
You and Deuce take the bags and bid Sam thanks. Deuce pulls you aside on the way out, "That store was amazing."
"Yeah, it was." You make a mental note to inquire about some products before your time of the month comes. That store has everything after all.
Main Street is practically void of any students, though you can see a pair walking up. The two are wearing red vests, Heartslabyul or Scarabia students probably. Besides that it's just, you, Deuce and Grim, who starts whining about his lack of purchases. "Yeah, and you guys are amazingly cheap."
"Hey!"
"Who are you calling cheap?!"
You shake your head, before readjusting the cords of the bags digging into your arms. You wince from the pressure relief, the bruise on your forearm that Leona gave you from earlier still stings. The bags are too heavy but you'll manage the rest of the way back.
"Hm?" Deuce must have seen your struggling, "_____, looks like you got the bag with all the cans. That must be heavy."
"It's not that bad," You shake your head, lying, "I can carry it."
"Here, let me take that one." He takes one of the heavier bags from you. And you breathe a sigh of relief now that the weight is off. "I've got a little trick for carrying heavy bags."
Smiling, you say, "Thank you." He smiles back, balancing all the heavy bags with ease. "You're quite the power shopper."
He nods, "Yeah. My mom always used to stock up at sales, and the bags would get ridiculously heavy. I was the only man in the house, so I got to do all the heavy lifting, and-" He pauses, "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to monopolize the conversation."
You shake your head, "No, it's okay..." Actually, you might be able to learn something useful from this. "Y'know if you want, you could talk about her, you seem to care about your mom a lot."
He deflates, "No, it wasn't like that at all." He takes a deep breath, "The truth is, I-OW!"
The students you saw down the street from earlier, ran directly into Deuce.
The sound of something cracking into bits fills the air. Clear and yellow goop drips out of one of the bags.
"The eggs!"
Deuce hurriedly opens the bag to inspect the damage. "The carton is completely smashed! And now the bag's dripping egg goo everywhere."
"Ugh! Why don't you watch where you're- Hey!"
The offending student turns around infuriated, and then his eyes widen in recognition. You recognise them too. The delinquents from earlier. The ones who through a fit over a broken yolk. Surprisingly, they're wearing the Heartslabyul ribbons. Hard to be delinquent when a tyrant can collar them with ease.
"It's you from earlier."
"Yeah, and you're the jerks who broke the egg yolk on my carbonara!"
"It was just a yolk." You repeat but it's pointless.
The other delinquent stalks up to you, grabbing you by your tie , "I've had enough of you punks. You need to learn your place." They threaten.
You can see Deuce's eyebrow twitch in fury. "You're the ones who darted out at as from around a corner!" He mutters, you can hear the hostility deep in his voice. He's angry. "And you picked a fight with us at lunch over an egg that you were still totally able to eat!"
"And now you've destroyed six of OUR eggs!" That anger in his voice is getting louder, clearer. You've seen Deuce a little angry before, but something's off about this time.
"Yeah, he's right!"
"So what? You sayin' that was our fault?"
"I am. Please reimburse us for the eggs." Deuce is frighteningly calm. He's not yelling or anything. "And then apologise to the chickens."
"Ooh, look who's got his big boy pants on. You sure are makin' a big deal outta some stupid eggs." The one with hold on your tie taunts Deuce.
"You shut your mouth." You hiss at him.
"What?" Deuce is still way too calm.
The idiot delinquent keeps blabbering, "They haven't even touched the ground, so they're still edible. Quit whinin'."
His idiot lackey keeps up the nonsense jabber. "Yeah, you should thank us for savin' ya the trouble of crackin' em."
They laugh and it's mocking and cruel.
"That ain't funny." Deuce's voice has a low growl and very quiet, the delinquents are idiots so they don't notice but....
"Deuce?" You ask, and you can see his eye twitching. He's angry. dangerously so.
"Huh?" Idiot delinquent number one asks.
And then that anger that Deuce was holding back finally bursts forth.
"I said......THAT AIN'T FUNNY!" The yell is so loud, it stuns you. The normally polite and reserved Deuce is replaced with one with a voice so loud, you're surprised that it didn't awaken the statues.
"You don't get to call my eggs stupid! You don't get to call ANY eggs stupid!! Those eggs may not have gotten to be chicks, but they were gonna make some amazing tarts!!"
"And you," Deuce's voice drops low as he rips the second delinquent away from you. "You apologize to her, right now. Do you get it yet!? DO YOU!?" Your tie comes apart in the delinquent's grip, said delinquent too afraid to actually let it go. They looks like he's about to piss himself from fear.
"W-What is with this guy all of a sudden?!"
"You owe me six eggs. If ya ain't gonna pay me for em, then you're gettin' a bruise for each one!" Deuce cracks his knuckles for emphasis.
"A-Are you serious right now?" The other little twerp is shaking in his sneakers.
''Buckle up, jerks!!"
Deuce's fist sails home into the cheek of the red-haired one, and another into the nose of the other. Blood splurts out staining the gloves he's wearing.
Like two pathetic little bitches, the two delinquents scamper and struggle against the one man army Deuce proves to be. And he isn't even using his magic.
"This guy's outta his mind!" The first one stammers.
"Bwah! L-Let's get outta here!" The other squeaks. And they both take off running. You hope Deuce doesn't get in trouble for this.
"Next time you eat an egg, you better apologize a hundred times, you buncha chumps!!" He yells at the retreating duo.
"D-Deuce! You need to calm down." You cup his face with both hands. And the blind rage on his face dissolves completely into calm.
He pants as he tries to calm himself. "....Urk!"
"W-What's wrong?" You let him go. All that anger is replaced with sadness, or actually....It looks like disappointment. "Are you ok?"
"I did it again, didn't I...?" Did what again? Deuce stares at the blood on his gloves, and he looks pained. "ARGH! I was dead-set on becoming an honor student this time, too."
"Huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"When I was in middle school, I was pretty wild. I cut school all the time and got in fights. I called my teachers names, hung out with bullies, bleached my hair..." Deuce lists off all of his middle school crimes, and honestly....He did sound a lot like the delinquents back in your world, minus the Magic Wheel thing and the magic.
"So you were only a little more annoying than you are now?"
"Grim, not now...." You scold Grim before trying to comfort Deuce. "No offense, but that's kind of hard for me to picture..."
Deuce continues to tell his backstory, "But one night, I saw my mom talking with my grandma. She was trying to hide from me, but I saw her, and I could tell she was in tears. She was saying how she must have been a horrible mom, and that she never should have tried to raise me by herself."
Ouch, that must have been tough to hear, especially from his mom.
"That had nothin' to do with it! She hadn't done anything wrong. It was all me......And when the carriage came to take me to Night Raven, she was so happy for me. I decided then and there that this time, I wouldn't do anything to make her cry. That this time, I'd become an honor student-someone she could be proud of."
"And I messed it all up!"
"No, you didn't." He looks so surprised at what you said.
"But-"
"Deuce, you didn't get into a fight for no reason. You got into to a fight because someone destroyed your stuff, and threatened your friends. Besides, they probably would have attacked me if you hadn't stepped in. And protecting the people you care about is something honor students should do."
"R-really?" You nod.
"Plus the thing an honor student should do....is report this to the Dorm Leader that some of his students tried to get into a fight with two freshmen." You whisper into his ear. "Let's see how they like it when they can't use their magic." You chuckle.
"______....."
"And to be honest....I really enjoyed that."
Deuce cheers up at that, "Heh heh....I guess you're right! I just hope those chicks can rest in peace."
"Uh, Deuce, the eggs were unfertilised..." He blinks at you, he doesn't know what you're talking about. "They were never going to hatch in the first place..."
"Wha-WHAAAAAT?! Are you kidding me?!"
You giggle again whilst shaking your head. He's not very smart, but you don't mind.
"But about your mom, could you tell me about her? She sounds like a really nice lady."
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Thoughts on daddy Jeongin?
wait why have i never thought about this…
warnings: gn!reader, exhibitionism, mean dom + brat taming on the last few paragraphs
posting this because the Changbin worship is taking me a little longer than I thought..
so im a firm believer that jeongin is STILL a menace to this day. like we all know he was a little shithead growing up, but i think the way skz spoils him just made that side of him come back out. especially with the video of him literally choking seungmin and nobody batting an eye (also him stopping the SECOND he saw the camera pointed at them??? yeah keep trying to put up that 'innocent' mask. i see through ur lies mfer), I genuinely don't think he's as innocent as they make him out to be lol
anywhooooo back to Daddy Jeongin..
I think in general Daddy Jeongin is sickly sweet with you even in public. He doesn’t hesitate to buy you items he sees you looking at for longer than a few seconds at a store or just random things he thinks you would like. He takes you out on dates when you least expect it and always has a little gift prepared for you for these dates. I also think he would LOVE to dress you up/pick out your outfits every day if you'd let him, and even more so for dates so you two can match.
"Today we're going to [insert restaurant]! I bought you a new outfit for it and everything~"
I think he's one to keep PDA to a minimum (besides hand holding). UNLESS you ask nicely or there is a person who is very obviously interested in you and is 'unaware' of your relationship. Then, Daddy Jeongin is going a liiiiittle unhinged. They want to play dumb? He'll play absolutely brainless. I'm talking straight up shoving a hand into your pants or up your shirt, grabbing a handful and making you squirm as the person watches. Will not hesitate to walk up to you and interrupt your conversation with that person just to shove his tongue down your throat <3
"I don't give a fuck if it made them uncomfortable. You're mine."
I think in bed Daddy Jeongin would be super inexperienced at first if you're his first lover. Shaky hands hesitantly trailing along your body along your body and soft but hungry hip thrusts for the first few times. But!!!! I'm a firm believer in Fast Learner!Skz so it won't take him long to learn your body and what you do or don't like. So much so that once he proves himself right time and time again, he starts to be a cocky little shit about it.
"I know it 's good. Daddy just knows you too well, baby. And I know *this* feels good too, right? Haha"
Daddy Jeongin definitely invites one (or more hehe) of his hyungs to fuck you open >< Allowing them to fuck any and all of your holes all while he controls the scene, the pace, and where they cum. I think the ego this would give him would be nuts… It would hover in the air around him for weeks, ESPECIALLY if it’s one of the guys that he respects/looks up to the most (I’m thinking Chris, Min, and maybe Seungmin).
"You're doing so good for us baby, you're taking Min so well. He's gonna keep fucking you nice and roughly and if you keep it up and maybe you'll get both of us."
I think he loves a brat (obviously at the right times) so he has an excuse to prove why he's the dominant one. I think he'd have 2 very similar ways of dealing with brats, I won't make a separate post about it like I did with Chris but I'll still explain some of it. The default way Daddy Jeongin deals with one is by being a huge brat back and matching your energy. You push his buttons, he pushes your buttons. You test his boundaries, he’ll test yours. Has a whole stubborn ass "anything you can do, I can do better" attitude and won't stop until you give up and submit first. Not afraid to edge both of your for hours if that's what it takes for you to fold.
"You ready to say sorry? Mmm that's too bad. I was looking forward to letting you cum tonight."
2nd way Daddy Jeongin deals with a brat is full Mean dom. You push the right wrong buttons at the right wrong times and he won't show any mercy. How can he when he learned how to be a mean dom from the best! (Seungmin) So when you talk back, have too much attitude, and/or any other way you manage to piss him off; you are getting a big hand wrapped tightly around your neck or long fingers shoved down your throat to shut you up. Edges both of you here too but will end up cumming inside you before you get to finish and threatens to leave you like that if you don't say sorry. OR will overstimulate you until you're actually sobbing and squirming so much that he threatens to tie you down.
"Maybe if you didn't act like a bitch I would be more willing to give you a break. Now shut up and take it." >.<
Daddy Jeongin who isn’t afraid to punish or discipline you in front of his hyungs. If you piss him off at practice he WILL make you kneel right then and there, in front of all the members and any staff, and will make you apologize. Tangles a hand in your hair, maybe even shoving a few fingers down your throat, and makes you grovel. Also I think if you catch him at the wrong time, he'll threaten to fuck you right then and there (and will actually go through with it depending on who is there and if he's actually mad enough).
“Aw.. you’re embarrassed they’re watching? Good, maybe you’ll learn your fucking lesson this time. Now apologize or I'll edge you on my dick for the next week.”
Continuing a little on that last paragraph, I think he would enjoy bringing in Seungmin (AND) or Minho to 'help' him tame you when you're a brat. It's definitely something that would have to be talked about with all parties, but if everyone agrees to it then you're in for some insane sessions. If you piss him off in the practice room and the people in there just so happen to be Seungmin and Minho, just know you're fucked <3
#sian’s writing#stray kids smut#skz smut#jeongin x reader#jeongin smut#jeongin imagines#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin smut#yang jeongin imagines#i.n x reader#i.n smut#i.n imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#skz x reader#skz x reader smut
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Stupidly Charming (CL16) [AoM Part 2]
Part 1: Audacity of Man Summary: Charles was never anything but a compassionate and wonderfully loving boyfriend. You always used to brag about how attentive he was... I guess this is karma?
You had tried to distract yourself, not get angry or upset over the fact that Charles had most likely forgotten your anniversary.
It was still early in the day, he could surprise you, or make up for the fact he forgot.
But hours went by of radio silence from the Ferrari driver. You couldn’t really blame him, even if he remembered your anniversary, you knew he wouldn’t be able to drop everything at work to text or call you.
Still you had hoped for something.
“Fuck him! What an idiotic asshole, especially after you made him breakfast.” Your friend said as you caught her up on the situation. “Get upset! Get angry! If the second he gets home he isn’t on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, be the biggest bitch to him you have ever been.”
“That seems extreme…”
“Fuck extreme, fuck him! Get angry, fight, and then have the best makeup sex of your life.”
That you could do.
“Honey! Oh how I missed you” Charles said as he opened the door and saw you on the couch, pretending to read a book you had given up on actually paying attention to a while ago. You were still too upset.
You didn’t answer him. You even scoffed as he didn’t seem to recognize your silent treatment, just planting a kiss on your cheek and going to change.
What an asshole.
“Did you think about what you wanted for dinner?” He asked as he returned.
Again, silence.
“I was hoping to try out that new place that opened up down the street, heard it has amazing desserts.”
Still nothing.
“Baby? Did you hear me?”
…
“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you. A look of realization appeared on his face as he saw your frown. Finally, he was remembering.
“Oh honey, I am sorry I had to leave today when I knew you wanted to hang out. I wanted to as well, you know I did. Hours in the simulator and all I could think about was coming home to my beautiful girlfriend, the person I am most excited to spend the rest of my life with.” Nevermind, he still didn't remember. But dammit as he hugged your waist and pulled your face towards him to plant kisses everywhere, you couldn’t fight off the laugh that left your mouth. He was stupid but he was charming. Stupidly charming.
“There she is,” he said looking at the smile now on your face, much to your dismay. “How about I order from that new place, I’ll get all the things on the menu I know we’ll like so we can try them all.”
“Charles, that's an expensive amount of food for no reason.”
“No it isn’t, not when it is for you. You better get used to it, you are being spoiled for the rest of your life.” he walked away to order and you tried hard to remember why you were mad in the first place.
Right, your anniversary. But was it even fair to blame him? He was busy with work and while you wished he would prioritize you a little more, he always made sure to make up for it, to make you feel as loved as possible.
You were halfway to forgiving him when he came back into the living room, an apologetic look across his face. “I have to jump on a call, could you go pick up the food, my love?” Nevermind, even when making up for being busy because of work, he was too busy because of work to make up for it.
“Fine.” Was all you said as you got up, the frown back on your face as you grabbed your stuff and left, ignoring his calls and apologies behind you.
If that hadn’t put you in a bad mood, then the whole ordeal around picking up the food did.
“I am so sorry, ma’am. It will only be a little longer, we weren’t expecting this much business so fast!” The lady behind the hostess stand said.
It wasn’t her fault of course, but it didn’t help your mood. Still you tried to keep it together as you waited 45 minutes to pick up food that should have been ready the moment you got there.
You even kept it together as you realized you had forgotten your keys to the apartment inside, so you had to call Charles to let you in. But after a few insistent knocks on the door, and a few missed calls, you finally broke down. Maybe it was dramatic, leaning on the door as you sat on the ground, crying, but fuck that. You were upset, and upset you were going to remain. Still, it took a few minutes for Charles to come to the door.
“Ah, I am so sorry love I was on the phone and didn't see your-” He was rambling excuses the second he opened the door but stopped when he saw you on the ground, a mess of tears and snot. “Honey, what is wrong? Oh my love I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out here so long, and I didn’t know that the restaurant would be such a mess.” He kneeled in front of you as he wiped away your tears.
“It's not that-or not just that. It's everything Charles, this wasn’t how today was supposed to go-”
“I know, my love, I’m sorry I was-”
“No, you don’t understand. Charles, it's our anniversary, and I spent so long thinking of things we could do today to make it special, but nothing happened and it just got worse and worse till I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just- you didn’t even remember and everytime I tried to tell myself it was okay to be upset or angry, you would be so sweet that I couldn’t justify it-” You couldn’t even finish as sobs racked your body.
Though, you paused when you heard Charles let out a low laugh. You looked up at him, but he wasn’t smiling or laughing at you, tears streaming down his face confirming as much. It was more of a pitiful laugh.
“I knew this was a stupid plan. There were too many ways it could backfire.”
Before you could question what he meant, he picked up the food in one hand and reached for you with the other. You hesitated.
“Do you trust me?” he asked. Even though you were upset, you took his hand and stood up. Of course you trusted him.
Your eyes widened as you saw the state of your apartment. Candles lit and spread around, balloons and streamers nicely framing your table that had been set up with a white table cloth, your nicest plates and glasses atop it, and a beautiful, large bouquet of flowers.
“I wanted to make tonight special. I had planned on making the entire day special, but when I had to leave I came up with a plan to make up for me being gone.” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, he looked… embarrassed? “It was stupid, to pretend I forgot about our anniversary, I wasn’t going to but when I realized I hadn’t said anything, too caught up in the fact I was being taken away from you, I thought I would pretend so I could surprise you. I didn’t have a call, I just needed time to get this ready but after you left upset and then had to deal with all the problems at the restaurant, I began to panic, so much so that I didn’t hear your knocks and didn’t see you had called.”
You started crying again, alarming Charles. “I know it was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it, I didn’t think it through I’m-” you kissed him, hard.
He was an idiot, such a fucking idiot, but he was yours, and for all of his bad moments, you knew he loved you so much.
You two finally pulled away, that's when you realized he was shaking, a lot.
“Charlie?”
“I- I had a whole speech. I worked on it for months. In the shower, in the car, during free practice last weekend it's all I could think of actually, that's why I got yelled at by my engineer.” he laughed, turning red at the memory. “I wanted to talk about how much I love you, how much I don’t deserve you, that I know it's so hard to have my job continually come in the way, but you will always be first, my love, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And I want to spend the rest of my life working to deserve you and your love. I want to spend forever making you feel just as happy as you make me.” Had tears not been blocking your vision, you'd have seen him reach for the box in his pocket.
But it wasn’t until he got down on one knee that you realized what he was doing. And before he could ask the question, you tackled him to the ground.
The soft carpet luckily kept Charles’ head from hitting the ground hard. You didn’t care, he didn’t care, too busy giggling in between kisses as you both rolled on the ground. Once you two had calmed down and sat up, he slipped the ring onto your finger. “The ring is beautiful, Charlie, but this isn’t how I expected getting proposed to.” you teased as the two of you wiped tears away and tried to fix your messy hair from rolling around.
“It wasn’t how I thought I would propose, but if it ends in getting to spend the rest of my life with you, then I don’t care too much.”
So stupidly charming.
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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💙
My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar
#my fics#my writing#cardinal copia x female reader#copia x female reader#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfiction#cardinal copia fanfiction#copia fanfiction#the band ghost fanfic#ghost band fanfic#copia x reader#cardinal copia x reader
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Every Breath You take (1)
Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)
Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism
A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.
A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.
All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so.
He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone.
You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.
“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.
“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”
He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.
You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.
The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.
Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.
It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.
Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real.
He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.
Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer.
He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.
You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.
He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.
Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.
All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had.
For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure��you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.
“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”
You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.
Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.
Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.
“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”
Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”
Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”
Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.
In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.
“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply.
Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.
Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.
He’s a protector, not a villain.
Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.
You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.
Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.
“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.
Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child.
Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.
No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.
Every Breath You Take (2)
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#stalker!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#x reader#Every Breath You take (1)
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Could you maybe write a mike x reader that the reader has a crush on Mike for a long time now secretly but dont dare tell him because she just can't is too shy and Abby helps reader and Mike to find together with her drawings since she noticed how they look at each other every time but no one says anything and maybe with just fluffy please. The reader knows mike a long time and knows what he is going through and Mike did become distance from the reader but the reader is still here for him when he needs it too.. And they kiss too :)
Hiiii, thank you for my first official request!! I hope you like it!
There shouldn’t be anything to spoiler-y just some tooth rotting fluff and bad writing!! (And one spicy reference ish? Nothing too bad)
Also So sorry, my art class was watching the little mermaid today so its been in the back of my mind.
Abby, The Little Matchmaker
You had moved in next door to the Schmidt house a few years ago. Mike was watched out the window the day you moved in, while eating breakfast with Abby one morning. He saw you outside of the window, and he wasn’t trying to stare, but ended up staring at your driveway, watching you bring in and out boxes of stuff from one of those large moving trucks. Abby finished a little doodle before looking up, seeing her big brother staring. When Abby spoke up, he zapped out of his little trance.
As a lot of time had passed you had gotten to know him somewhat well. Sometimes he would talk with you from the other side of your fence, or you two would sit on the curb or one of your porches together and just chat about random stuff. As he became more focused on his work, trying and failing to keep a good few job, he slowly began to, unintentionally, become distant. No longer speaking to you directly. But he still would watch you from the window of his kitchen if he saw you pretty [hair color] flash in the corner of his vision. Often seeing you playing with your younger sibling, or younger family members.
Once he landed the job at Freddy’s, he knew he would need help. And you were the best and only person he could really think to ask. It was awkward but, you agreed. Excited to officially meet his little sister, and hopefully see more of him once again. Thats how you ended up watching over Abby once he started working late nights.
Abby was very shy at first, but as time past, and you spent more time at the Schmidt house, she began to open up a bit, talking more and inviting you to draw with her. She also noticed though, how awkward you were with Mike. How you two both seemed to like each other a lot, but it was strange.
One evening however, it was just you and Abby. One of her favorite movies, The Little Mermaid was playing in the background, and she was drawing. Not looking up from the paper, she spoke.
“Hey, [Y/N]?”
“Yeah Abby? Whats up?”
“Do you like my brother? I mean, Like-Like him?”
Your face flustered at that question.
“N-Not like that no… We are just friends really.” You replied, voice cracking a bit.
She turns her head and looks at you.
“Oh really? At dinner sometimes when I mention you, he always says you’re pretty and appreciates you being friends and taking care of me at night. Also, sometimes when i’m not asleep yet, I hear weird noises, and your name coming from his room.”
She notices your face and how red it gets from hearing her speak. She knew you had a crush on him, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Then she turned her head back, smirked to to herself and grabbed a new piece of paper, before heading back into her room, to plan.
Later, Mike invited you to stay for breakfast. He was cooking up some slightly burnt scrambled eggs while you were tapping your nails on the kitchen table. After what Abby had told you, it became even more difficult to talk to him.
Abby came out of her room a few minutes later, a piece of folded paper in her pj pocket. She sat at the table, across from you, wishing you and Mike a good morning. You 3 ate Mike’s slightly burnt food, as Abby told you about a project she’s excited to start at school. Once the food was done, and the dishes were put in the sink, Abby perked up again.
“I drew this for both pf you! Don’t open it until I’m back in my room please!”
You and Mike both nodded as she dashed off into her room to get ready for school. You stood next to Mike as he unfolded the sheet of paper. The inside revealing a picture of You, Mike, And Abby, all happily hugging. You and Mike looked at each other, admiring each other’s eyes. Before you both heard Kiss the girl, from The Little Mermaid start playing from the Cassette player in Abby’s room.
You two both looked at each other, the paper still in Mike’s hand.
“Did Abby tell you that I like you?” He asked.
“Yeah, did she say that I like you..?”
You replied.
But you’re dying to try
You wanna kiss the girl
Yes, you want her
The song played, while you and mike looked each other. He gulped before leaning in slightly for a kiss, and you met his lips halfway. The kiss was everything you both wanted, soft, loving and passionate.
“I love you…”
He spoke.
“I love you too…”
You replied.
The song ended from Abbys room, and you both heard her shout
“I KNEW IT!”
You and Mike both laughed before he pulled you into a tight hug. To this very day, the specific picture Abby drew is framed and sits on a shelf. She draws all 3 of you together much more, loving how happy it makes you all. This always ends with a group hug, as well as you and mike sharing a loving kiss.
#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy’s#five nights at freddy’s movie#fnaf#fnaf movie#mike schmidt x reader#josh hutcherson#abby schmidt
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Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 1)
Hello! I'm putting out my very first piece ever and I'm so excited to feed the masses as much Mouthwashing content as they deserve :) This game has a lot of sensitive topics to it and as such I'll try my best to bring them up as appropriately as possible. The story is gonna start off slow and elaborative because I love all of the Tulpar crew so much (except for Jollof rice, Jimneva convention) and they all have such interesting personalities that I couldn't help but to explore their wants and aspirations. This story will feature an alternative ending to the game because I cannot stomach sad things they make me very sad </3
Next
engineer! reader x curly TW: a bad word or two, I think word count ~ 1.9K
Curly was back in the medical bay for his routine psychological evaluation with Anya. With all of the questions answered and out of the way, the both of them were just chatting before he had to go back to the cockpit and finish up his duties for the afternoon.
“You’re all good to go, Captain. Seems like there isn’t much change from your answers like last time, as usual.” Anya let out a tired sigh.
“That should be a good thing, given we’ve already been on this trip for almost two months now. We should all be used to the routine around here at this point. Has everybody else been adjusting alright?” Curly stood up from his chair, Anya following suit as they moved towards the door.
“For the most part, everyone’s been well but I wish they would open up or take the assessment seriously. I mean, at least Daisuke has been making my job a little easier – he just talks and talks.” she mused. Curly gave a little chuckle in response, thinking about the last-minute intern that the Pony Express decided to add on board to their journey. He wasn’t exactly the most helpful – at least according to Swansea – but he brought an air of lightheartedness that they all needed in a cut-corners, shitty working environment like the Tulpar. “Oh, actually, have you seen (Y/N) lately?”
Curly thought for a moment. Along with Daisuke, (Y/N) was another late addition to the crew. The Tulpar has started showing its age and as such, there were increasingly consistent problems with the water pipes, life support, and fuel usage. However, instead of giving the crew a new ship, they handed the responsibility of keeping the ship up and running to the passengers. After their previous trip, Swansea went straight to the higher-ups and ripped them a new one, stating that “he couldn’t be expected to perform miracles”. When the crew was assigned this trip, they were all surprised that corporate had listened to Swansea’s complaints and granted them with another engineer. (Y/N) was self-sufficient, only really needing to work with Swansea to consult him on how best to move forward and with Daisuke when Swansea needed a break from his overzealousness. As a result, Curly saw and knew very little about her. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Why?”
“She’s due for her check-in as well but I haven’t seen her these past two days to tell her that. Go figure. We share a room yet recently she’s been waking up earlier and sleeping later than I have. When I went to ask Swansea and Daisuke if they’d seen her, they said that they haven’t seen her at all today.”
“Huh. She���ll show up eventually. This ship only has so many places a person can be. If I see her, I’ll let her know to go straight to you. Thanks, Anya.” He patted her shoulder lightly before heading out, making his way back to the cockpit to fulfill his duties.
In the evening, the crew convened at the table for dinner. Curly always looked forward to this time of day, where everyone had finished all of their tasks and could open up with light hearted banter. With only the six of them on the ship for over a year, all they had were each other, and he cherished all of his crew members. Anya and Swansea were chatting to the left of him about Swansea’s kids back on Earth. To his right, he saw Jimmy get increasingly agitated as Daisuke tried convincing him to swap dinners with him. That’s when he spotted the empty chair across from him and realized that (Y/N) was still missing.
No one was concerned by her absence; it was a common occurrence, and he trusted Daisuke and Swansea to be in the loop about what she was up to and would report to him if anything happened. During the work day, everyone was so consumed with their jobs and couldn’t afford to worry about the whereabouts of the others, unless they needed to lend a hand. Curly wasn’t an exception to this. As the captain it was his responsibility to make sure his crew members were okay and that things were moving along nicely, and so far there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that indicated otherwise. With everyone finishing up their dinner, clean up began before people bid each other goodnight.
In the middle of the night, he woke up parched. Debating whether or not to get a glass of water, he finally got out of bed and made his way to the lounge where the kitchen was. Leaving his room, he could hear a faint clacking noise grow slightly louder the closer he got to the lounge entrance. Opening the door to the lounge, he was finally met with the sixth crew member whom no one had seen all day. Sitting at the dining table, (Y/N) rested her feet on the seat of her chair and had her knees drawn up to her chest. All around her were books and loose papers scattered about. Her hair was messed up, likely a direct cause of the hand she kept on her head, fingernails digging into her scalp. Curly gently cleared his throat, trying to make her aware of his presence. Shooting a tired glance his way, her eyes widened a bit before immediately sitting up straight and tidying her hair. She looked guilty, like she was caught in the middle of doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“Finally, we get to see her. Where have you been, Miss Absentee?” He sent a small smile her way, walking over to her.
“C-Captain! What are you doing up? It’s quite late.” (Y/N) nervously fidgeted.
“Just up for a glass of water. What are you doing up so late is the real question.” He crossed his arms.
“Just doing a bit of work. Can’t get enough of it.” She joked dryly. Curly frowned and pulled the chair next to her to take a seat. She sighed and leaned back, finally relaxing from tensing up after seeing Curly enter the room. (Y/N) didn’t know her captain well, and as such she always tried her best to save face and remain professional with him, but at this hour of the night, she was too tired to keep up with decorum.
He leaned on the table, facing her. “I know we may not be as close as you are with Swansea and Daisuke, or even Anya, but as your captain I care about how you’re doing and I want you to open up to me.” Her expression became hesitant as she shifted in her seat. “We’re all busy and even though it’s common for you to go missing during meal times, seeing you like this now is making me worried about how you’re doing.”
(Y/N) kept quiet for a second, looking like she was mulling something over before picking up the object right in front of her. “Do you know what this is?”
“An abacus. Interesting that you have one.” he said.
“Yeah.” she sighed. She moved her gaze from Curly to the plastic Polle statue in the corner of the room. “Before I got on the Tulpar, they had given me all of the supplies I needed to fulfill my duties and do what they asked of me. I had met Swansea only briefly before so he could give me manuals and maps of the ship’s layout. I got the uniform, the steel-toed boots, notebooks, writing utensils, and a solar-powered calculator.” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d think that would be enough to prepare me to be here, but no . If only there was a way to have a bit of sunlight in outer space in a ship with no windows. They gave me something so crucial but useless out here. I had brought the abacus on board with me for sentimental reasons, but ironically enough it’s the only thing here that allows me to do my job.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not sure if you were aware, but Pony Express lied and said this was an internship for graduate students. Little did I know I’d be thrown into something I wasn’t going to have much guidance in. I needed a break from my PhD and even though the pay wasn’t that great, I was desperate for some sort of escape from academia. I thought going to space would give me that, but every day I wake up is a constant reminder that I’m so underqualified. Swansea is an expert with the mechanical side of the ship and he’s helped me a great deal, but the fluid mechanics and thermodynamics of it all are things he knows nothing about. So I’m here, trying my best to play catch-up and praying that I figure out a solution so that this ship has enough fuel, enough air to last us an entire year, and that the Tulpar doesn’t pop like a pressurized soda bottle while we’re out here.”
“(Y/N)...” Curly’s voice died at her name, shocked at this revelation and disappointed he somehow didn’t know about her struggle sooner. “I had no idea what you were going through. You always seemed to have a grasp on your tasks and Swansea always praised the work you did, so I just assumed you weren’t having a hard time adjusting. Have you told any of this to Anya during your evaluations?”
“No… I really wanted to believe that I could do it and stick it out, and so far, thank God, I’ve just barely made it every time. I really wanted you and the rest of the crew to believe I was capable and worthy of being here.” He cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, testing the waters on how he should comfort her.
“You are worthy of being here. The fact that we’ve been having such a smooth trip with no complications so far makes that obvious. I really appreciate you opening up to me now. I want to do everything I can to make sure you aren’t stressed about your work. You need to get rest and eat like the rest of us. Sure, none of us are a chemical engineering smarty pants like you, but you can always ask for help, even if it’s just for something like bringing you food or running errands around the ship.” He smiled at her, and she weakly reciprocated the gesture.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Thank you, Curly.” Too tired to remember formalities, (Y/N) let out a big yawn, much to his amusement.
“So are you gonna go to bed?” He asked. She threw her head back and groaned in defeat, murmuring a “yes”. “Good! I hope I get to see more of you around now that you’ll be asking for help, yes?”
“Yes, of course, Captain. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The both of them stood up, (Y/N) to head to her quarters and Curly to finally get his glass of water. Before completely leaving, she paused and turned back. “Oh, and Captain?”
“Hmm?” He raised his head up to look at her again.
“I know you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders looking after all of us. Please, rely on me too.” She smiled gently.
“Goodnight, (Y/N).” He called after her as she slipped through the door. He felt content that he was making good progress to gaining the trust of the crew member he knew the least. It always made him feel good to be the reliable captain he hoped everyone viewed him as. Having that conversation with (Y/N) made him a little more relaxed now that she had opened up to him for the first time.
#mouth washing#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#curly x reader#mouthwashing x reader#Thermo & Turmo
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King for a Day
MDNI
Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader
warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl
word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)
“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”
Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.
You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.
Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.
“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.
“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”
Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”
Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.
“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”
“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.
“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”
Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.
“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.
“I- I tried to hide it…”
“Not well enough.”
Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.
“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.
“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.
“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.
“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“
“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”
“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.
You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.
Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.
Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.
You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”
Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.
“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”
You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.
“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.
“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.
“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.
“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.
“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”
Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”
©️slyblonder
——————
a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu
tags:
@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy
#ateez#mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi#mingi#ateez mingi#mingi fluff#mingi scenarios#mingi fanfic#song mingi smut#ateez drabbles#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez fic#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#slyblonder
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BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT
a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!
masterlist! song inspo! AO3!
pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)
summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?
word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)
warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)
authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags
There are two universal truths in life.
The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.
These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.
However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.
It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.
“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”
Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”
“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”
“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”
“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”
You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.
You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.
You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.
But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.
Fuck.
Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.
“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”
You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”
Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”
“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”
The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.
However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.
Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.
You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.
Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.
But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.
You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.
Unfortunately, neither of those happen.
Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.
Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.
You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.
You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.
It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”
The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”
You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”
You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”
You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—
The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”
The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”
That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”
Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.
Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”
“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”
You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”
“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”
He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”
“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”
“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”
“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”
He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”
“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”
He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”
He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.
But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”
That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?
You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.
Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”
The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”
“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”
Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.
You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.
You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.
(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)
Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.
It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.
But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.
No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.
You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”
So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.
He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.
When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.
“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”
Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”
That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.
It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.
“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”
You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.
However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.
If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.
And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.
You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.
That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.
(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)
He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”
You blink at him. “What?”
“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”
At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.
His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”
He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”
That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.
You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.
But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.
Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.
You’re fucked.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.
You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.
And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.
It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.
(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)
Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?
His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.
And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.
And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.
Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.
She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.
Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.
“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”
“Leah…” Your voice is weak.
It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”
“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”
“Are you sure?”
You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”
“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”
You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”
“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.
You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”
“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”
“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.
You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.
You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.
That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.
You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.
You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.
(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)
But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.
You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.
“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.
A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”
“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”
“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”
Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”
Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”
You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”
“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”
“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”
And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.
You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.
It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.
It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.
It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?
It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.
It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.
It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.
Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.
It’s a bad idea to consider it.
But it’s a worse idea to agree.
text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.
Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.
The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.
God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?
Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.
However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.
“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”
You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.
It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?
Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”
His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”
That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”
“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”
The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.
But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.
“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”
“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”
He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”
You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”
“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”
He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.
The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”
That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”
His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”
Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”
“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”
The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”
“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”
Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.
You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”
Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.
He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.
His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.
The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.
His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”
You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”
You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”
You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.
You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.
It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”
You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.
Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”
He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”
“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”
“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”
You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.
It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.
So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”
The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”
“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”
His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”
And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.
This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.
That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.
So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.
Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”
“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.
“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”
“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”
He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”
Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.
He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.
“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.
Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.
Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”
You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.
He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.
The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”
That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.
Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.
He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”
“What?” you ask again.
“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”
The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”
With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.
He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.
You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”
His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”
Your mouth parts. “Why?”
“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”
You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.
“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”
His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.
Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”
You scoff. “I told you.”
He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.
His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”
He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.
So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”
That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”
And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.
You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.
And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.
And it’s fucking hot.
The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.
“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”
Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”
“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”
“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”
You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.
“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”
And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.
Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”
He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.
He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”
He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.
The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”
You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.
But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.
The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—
“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”
The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.
Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.
It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.
When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.
You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”
You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.
It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.
Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—
It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.
“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.
You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.
Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”
You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”
He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.
He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.
“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”
A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.
He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”
You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.
You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.
He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”
You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.
He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.
He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.
He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”
You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”
Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…
It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.
He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.
Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”
The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”
He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”
You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.
“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.
He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”
You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”
And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.
“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”
You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.
He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.
You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.
“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.
You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”
You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”
He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”
You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”
Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”
They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.
You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.
Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.
“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”
You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.
You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.
“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”
The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”
It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.
You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.
You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”
The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.
Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”
He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”
He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.
You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.
And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.
But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.
There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.
And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.
Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.
I had a really good time tonight.
And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.
me too.
And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with:
i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x you#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt fanfiction#bad ideas#the one who's not a loser but THEE loser#discowrites
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hi i just saw some of ur posts on anti-psychiatry and then kept reading more on ur blog about what it is. for the most part i agree with what you've said about how capitalism uses psychiatry to designate people who are bad/abnormal and how it aligns itself w/ misogyny, racism, and so on. with that said i think i have some similar concerns/questions as another asker about what this means for those who do/would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms. if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help? are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy? i dont mean to ask this in a confrontational/accusatory way, i'm just new to this and genuinely curious
There are a few different parts to your question & so there are a few different angles to approach it from—
are you opposed to psychopharmaceuticals and therapy?
If this means "are anti-psych writers and activists opposed to individuals seeking treatment that they personally find helpful," then, no—a couple posts in my psychiatry tag do clarify this.
If it means "are there anti-psych critiques of psychopharmaceuticals and therapy," then, yes. Keep in mind that I'm not a neurobiologist or otherwise an expert on medications marketed as treatments for mental illnesses, but:
The evidence for the effectiveness of SSRIs in particular is sort of non-existent—even many psychiatrists who promote the biomedical model of mental illness doubt their efficacy, and refer to the "chemical imbalance" theory that enforces their usage as "an outmoded way of thinking" or "a kind of urban legend—never a theory seriously propounded by well-informed psychiatrists." But promoting SSRIs (and corresponding "serotonin deficiency" theory of depression, despite the fact that no solid evidence links depression to low serotonin) is very profitable for pharmaceutical companies. Despite the fact that direct-to-consumer advertisements are nominally regulated in the U.S., the FDA doesn't challenge these claims.
Other psychotropic drugs, such as "antipsychotics" or "antianxiety" medication, shouldn't really be called e.g. "antipsychotics" as if they specifically targeted the biological source of psychosis. No biological cause of any specific psychiatric diagnosis has been found (p. 851, section 5.1). In fact, rather than "act[ing] against neurochemical substrates of disorders or symptoms," these medications "produc[e] altered, drug induced states"—but despite the fact that they "produce global alterations in brain functioning," they are marketed as if they had "specific efficacy in reducing psychotic symptoms." Reactions to these medications that don't have to do with psychosis or anxiety (blunted affect, akathisia) are dismissed as "side effects," as though they don't arise from the same global alteration in brain function that produces the "desirable" antianxiety/antipsychotic effect. This doesn't mean "psychiatric medication turns you into a zombie so you shouldn't take it"—it means that these medications should be marketed honestly, as things that alter brain function as a whole, rather than marketed as if they target specific symptoms in a way that they cannot do, in accordance with a biomedical model of mental illness the accuracy of which has never been substantiated.
Psychiatrised people also point out that meds are used as a tool for furthering and maintaining psychiatrists' control: meds that patients are hesitant about or do not want are pushed on them, while patients who desire medication are "drug-seeking" or trying to take on the role of clinician or something and will routinely be denied care. Psychiatrised people who refuse medications are "noncompliant" and prone to psychiatric incarceration, re-incarceration, or continued/lengthened incarceration.
As for therapy: there are critiques of certain therapies (e.g. CBT, DBT) as unhelpful, status-quo-enforcing, forcing compliance, retraumatising &c. There are also critiques of therapy as representing a capitalist outsourcing of emotional closeness and emotional work away from community systems that people largely don't have in place; therapy as existing within a psychiatric system that constrains how therapists, however well-intentioned, are able to behave (e.g. mandatory reporting laws); psychotherapy forced on psychiatrised people as a matter of state control; therapists as being in a dangerous amount of power over psychiatrised people and being hailed as neutral despite the fact that their emotions and politics can and do get in the way of them being helpful. The wealth divide in terms of access to therapy is also commonly talked about; insurance (in the U.S.) or the NHS (in England) may only pay for pre-formulated group workbook types of therapy such as DBT, while more long-form, free-form, relationship-focused talk therapy may only be accessible to those who can pay 100-something an hour for it.
None of these critiques make it unethical or something for someone to get treatment that they find helpful. It's also worth noting that some of these critiques may be coming from "anti-psych" people who criticise the sources of psychiatric power, and some of them may come from people who think of themselves as advocating for reform of some of the most egregious effects of psychiatric power.
if we are opposed to psychiatry, what are the options for people today who are suffering and want help?
This looks like a few different things at a few different levels. At its most narrow and individual, it involves opting out of and resisting calls for psychiatrisation and involuntary institutionalisation of individuals—not calling the cops on people who are acting strange in public, breaking mandatory reporting laws and guidelines where we think them likely to cause harm. It involves sharing information—information about antipsychiatry critiques of psychiatric institutions, advice about how to manage therapists' and psychiatrists' egos, advice about which psychiatrists to avoid—so that people do not blame themselves if they find their encounters with psychiatry unhelpful or traumatising.
At the most broad, it's the same question as the question of how to build dual power and resist the power of capitalism writ large—building communal structures that present meaningful alternatives to psychiatry as an institution. I think there's much to be learned here from prison abolitionists and from popular movements that seek to protect people from deportation. You might also look into R. D. Laing's Kingsley Hall experiment.
what does this mean for those who would suffer even in a non-capitalist society, even if we didn't ascribe a specific label to X symptoms?
It means that people need access to honest, reliable information about what psychotropic medications do, and the right to chuse whether or not to take these medications without the threat of a psychiatrist pulling a lever that immediately restricts or removes their autonomy. It means that people need to be connected to each other in communities with planned, free resources that ensure that everyone, including severely disabled people whom no one particularly likes as individuals, has access to basic resources. It means that people need to be free to make their own choices regarding their minds and their health, even if other people may view those decisions as disastrous. There is simply no defensible way to revoke people's basic autonomy on the basis of "mental illness" (here I'm not talking about e.g. prison abolitionist rehabilitative justice types of things, which must restrict autonomy to be effective).
Also, I've mostly left the idea of who this would actually be untouched, since my central argument ("psychiatry as it currently exists is part of the biomedical arm of capitalism and the state, and the epistemologies it produces and employs and the power it exerts are thus in the service of capitalism and the state") doesn't really rest on delineating who would and wouldn't suffer from whatever mental differences they have regardless of what society they're in. But it's worth mentioning that the category of "people who are going to suffer (to whatever degree) no matter what" may be narrower than some would think—psychosis, for instance, is sometimes experienced very differently by people in societies that don't stigmatise it. I see people objecting to (their interpretations of) antipsych arguments with things along the lines of "well maybe depression and anxiety are caused by capitalism, but I'm schizophrenic so this doesn't apply to me"—as though hallucinations are perforce more physically "real," more "biological," more "extra-cultural" in nature than something like depression. But the point is that positing a specific neurobiological etiology for any psychiatric diagnosis is unsubstantiated, and that capitalist society affects how every "mental illness" is read and experienced (though no one is arguing that e.g. hallucinations wouldn't always exist in some form).
#psychiatry#long post /#mental illness#antipsych#antipsychiatry#Anonymous#questions#psychotropic drugs#ssris
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yes im changing
paige bueckers x reader
(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)
synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?
masterlist
chapter 5
the previous week was hell for y/n. she got to finish interviewing all the members part of the men’s and women’s basketball team. she plans on having study sessions with the team members starting next week. aubrey has been noticing dark circle’s under y/n’s eyes, and she’s growing concered.
it was a saturday night, and aubrey was going out to hang with the team, when she went out of here room, she saw y/n locked in with her research. she saw a glimpse of the introduction.
university of connecticut, in short uconn, is known for many achievements in their curriculars, and especially in basketball. according to previous research, many have grown fond of basketball due to university of connecticut, with many championship titles being brought to their home at storrs.
basketball in uconn is more popular than ever. with this, the researcher aims to see the difference of the resilience of these student athletes from the basketball teams of uconn. according to..
“girl thats dope, but you have been reviewing this introduction for the longest time. you need a break, your eyebags are telling you to do so.” aubrey said. “i just want a good grade.. so im eligible to transfer to stanford.” y/n replies nonchalantly.
“that is true, but you need to loosen up for now y/n. you have done a lot. im hanging out with the team today, you should really come so i wouldn’t have to worry about my teammate finishing cans of red bull. thats bad for you!” aubrey proposes. “i dont think i can..” y/n declines.
“im not taking no for an answer, so come into your room and put nice clothes on. i can wait for you” aubrey drags y/n out of her chair and brings her to the girl’s room.
“fine”
after 30 minutes, the roommates finally arrived to the destination: a steakhouse. it’s tradition for the team to eat at their favorite steakhouse at every start of the school year. the team may bring their friends and significant others to this gathering, but they all keep in mind to keep this gathering not too big and still quite intimate.
“hi y/n!!!” the team greets her, aubrey signaling her to sit beside nika and her. nika turned to y/n, and asked more personal questions about her life. they only got to talk during the interviews, and nika was genuinely willing to be friends with y/n.
they got more comfortable with each other, they found out they both liked rock climbing, building legos, and had mystery movies as their comfort movies.
while talking, one member of the team, kk, got curious. “so.. what’s the deal between aubrey and y/n? we didn’t know that y/n would be here, but don’t worry boo we’re all glad you’re here” kk asked.
everyone except for one
“oh nooo. y/n and i arent like that. yeah we’re roommates and we got close to each other but she’s not my type, don’t even know if she’s for the girls! i brought her here since she’s been too deep into her research. she needs to eez down” aubrey declined the allegation, y/n agreeing to her.
“only answer this if your comfortable with it but.. are you for the girls?” kk’s curiousity got stronger. “oh no its fine kk! yeah i am gay, just dont have a label. but i have never had a girlfriend before” y/n answered with a smile.
“OOOOH!” kk and the others exclaimed. “so what are you looking for in a partner? we could hook you up!” ice asked.
“i want my personal athletic or active, i dont know, they just have that aura. i also want my person to be quite smart.. i dont know guys its just attractive to me! and i hope theyre love language is words of affirmation. im a sucker for that” y/n shamefully answers.
“you know y/n, maybe your just talking about me” kk teased. “NOOOO”s and “EEEWWW”s were said after that, laughter all around.
after a wonderful night and dinner, it was time to head to an open basketball court. the uconn team loves to hoop after a good night out. its their only time to really have fun with their sport, no rules or anything. the steakhouse was just walking distance to the court, hence the team leaving their cars first at the parking area.
as they go into the court, y/n was smiling with the rest of the team, until she sees paige. paige gave her an eye roll, which made y/n feel quite annoyed and uncomfortable.
the rest of the team wanted to see y/n play, so she did, she was against paige, qadence, nika, and ice. y/n was having fun, but whenever she makes in contact with the ball and paige was beside her, paige kept on nudging her and slightly hitting her. paige was rough, which was not usual for her especially when they were just playing for fun.
the others felt paige’s competitiveness, and it didn’t feel right. kk calmed paige down. “paige whats your problem? she doesn’t play. that was foul” kk asked. paige just scoffed and ignored kk. kk was for sure that paige was hiding something, and she would have to ask next time when paige is more open to talk about it.
the team decided to call it a day. while they were walking back to the parking area, paige was dribbling a basketball, and started to throw it up— which led to another “accident.”
the ball goes forward and hits y/n again, but this time it was on her shoulder. y/n looked back to see who threw the ball, only to see that it was the blonde once again.
“what the fuck is your problem?”
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pairing: kang taehyun x gender neutral reader / genre: fluff, meet-cute, college au / word count: 1.8k / notes: yet again we are in self-indulgence city smiles
summary: the headache that was previously a nuisance leads you into forming a new friendship - or something more, even.
You don’t remember how long you’ve been laying on the floor of your dark room for. You can’t bring yourself to care, either, thankful that at least like this, your day-long migraine is finally starting to die down.
As your head starts to hurt less and less, your thoughts come easier and easier. Finally, you can think back on the day and try to rationalize how you’re going to make up for an entire day of lost classes.
Fuck. You really didn’t want to think about that, though.
It’s not like you were a stickler for school, but you still preferred to keep your grades up like any normal person. You were in college for a reason, and as much as you weren’t going to destroy yourself studying, you’d like to have good grades, at the very least.
Usually, a single day of missing classes wouldn’t be too bad, but you had already missed quite a few other days, and the work was starting to pile up.
The white ceiling seems to mockingly stare back at you as you run back your day, brows furrowed in concentration as you try to remember any important details or things you should make a note of.
There’s probably not that much I’ve missed today.
Just as you conclude today wouldn’t make much of a difference on your already big pile of missed work, your phone dings repeatedly from across the room, the screen lighting up and begging for your attention in the darkness.
With a groan, you lift yourself off the floor and towards the noisy beast that was your phone. The brightness almost blinds you in contrast with the rest of the room, and you curse yourself for not turning it down before. But most importantly, the reason your phone lit up in the first place: a message.
And the one part of your day you’d mostly forgotten about.
From: Taehyun hey! this is taehyun from class earlier you gave me your number for the project but i didn’t want to message you right away no pressure to respond tho i hope your head feels better
The message’s contents threaten to make your headache come back, but you can’t bring yourself to feel upset. Taehyun had approached you, in your headache-induced misery, and offered to do a group assignment with you so you didn’t go grade-less.
A sweet action, but you can’t help but want to kick your past self in the shin. You had kind of hoped nobody would have to interact with you while you were in that state.
You barely knew him, really. Had heard his name here and there; smart guy with good grades, gym rat, campus heartthrob, even.
Taehyun was known for hanging out with a pretty interesting group. People who talked to him and his friends would often say they had no idea how all five of them even got along, with how different they were. Individually, they all seemed like stark opposites, but if you saw them together you would, without a shadow of a doubt, understand they were close.
Friends aside, people knew Taehyun as a smart guy who always seemed eager to learn no matter the subject. It was no secret that his grades were pretty high most of the time, or at least that’s what the rumors that traveled north to south told you.
So, if anything, at least you’d ended up with someone who knew what he was doing for this.
The next time you meet with him, it’s at the library. You had planned to meet up and start working on the project a couple of days later, the library being the natural first choice.
Your palms feel slightly clammy, still, though. You had never properly talked to this man, and if it weren’t for the unfortunate timing of your headache, you probably wouldn’t ever have. You just weren’t really the kind of person to talk to strangers so freely, much less someone with a reputation already above their head.
To add to all of it, you end up being late. A mixture of exhaustion and staying up late makes you oversleep past your alarm, and consequently, not be as punctual as you had hoped.
Blame it on your own brain, but It’s hard not to see him when you arrive at the library.
In fact, he looks like he fits perfectly around his surroundings. The hood of his jacket is pulled up over his head, the glasses on his nose reflecting his phone screen at you. You’d say he almost looks like a cliche straight out of a y/n story, the rows upon rows of books that stretch around him acting like the claws of a storybook trapping its main character inside it’s story.
But even from this distance, you can finally understand why people say what they say about him.
Taehyun is, indeed, insanely handsome. It’s a little strange, even, the way he fits into the descriptors of smart, handsome, with eyes that reflect the glow of the world itself — like someone had taken his very essence and put it into a couple of words.
Obviously, you know that those words are not nearly enough to describe anyone — much less him. But you allow yourself to live your fantasy, even if for just a second.
Unfortunately, you’re not here to drift off into daydream.
Swallowing your heart that threatens to beat right out of your throat, you walk towards him, the sound of your shoes against the faux wood flooring too loud in your ears.
“Hey,” he greets easily, putting his phone away as he sees you approach. “how do you feel?”
You kind of want to grimace and scream and sink into the floor all at once. You’ve been here for a total of five whole seconds, and even though this is basic decency, the nice words coming out of Taehyun’s lips entangle themselves around your heart and squeeze it like an old sponge.
“Better now.” You nod, sitting down next to him and pulling your laptop into the table. “Sorry for being late, I uh… Woke up, late.”
Taehyun offers you a smile. A small one, but you still feel like it could brighten up the whole world if he wanted it to. He waves your concern off, saying it’s no big deal, and that it happens.
The shift from small, awkward talk into schoolwork is quick. That’s what you’re here to do. But as time goes on, you find that Taehyun is easy to talk to. His voice smooth as he explains a bit you didn’t quite understand, smile infectious as he cracks a bad joke that has you mirroring his happiness with your own.
By the time you decide to call it quits for the day, you’ve made a lot more progress than you thought you would. It’s also been a few hours longer than you thought it’d been, being so engrossed in your work and work partner.
You shut your laptop with a deep sigh. Next to you, Taehyun leans back on his chair and stretches his arms behind his head, making a noise that you frankly can’t describe as anything but a cat trill.
A noise that makes you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach. Like cupid has completely missed his target and instead used boxing gloves to deliver his curse.
“Jesus…” He exhales, relaxing and letting his arms fall to his sides. “That was good. I didn’t expect to get this much done.”
“Yeah, we really did a lot.” You hum in agreement. “That’s all thanks to you though, I can’t believe you understood half of that! I swear, that professor only knows how to explain things one way.”
He turns his head, bashfully, at that. “It’s nothing. I’m happy to help, either way! And it’s not like you’re stupid, either. You helped me with the parts I didn’t fully understand.”
“No, but really! You’re really smart, I can’t believe you didn’t just — I don’t know, get excused to just do this by yourself! You’d be perfectly fine!”
Maybe your voice came out a little louder than you intended it to, because from the corner of your eye you can see people nearby turn their heads toward you. Some of them scoff or roll their eyes slightly, and you make a face. Oops.
If Taehyun notices, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his full attention seems focused solely on you. Like you’re the only person in the room right now, like you’re not in a public library, surrounded by students cramming for their exams and pretending to work on their own projects.
It’s gone as quick as it appears, however, because he grins so big his eyes smile too, replacing that look of pure devotion with unbridled joy.
You feel insane, maybe. The screws in your head are falling out as we speak, kind of crazy.
This is absolutely ridiculous, the way this man has you feeling like you could outrun an olympic track runner. Everything he does kind of makes you want to sink into the floor and also maybe give him a kiss. Just maybe. A little bit.
God, this is hopeless. I’m hopeless.
While your brain is busy with your own situation, you don’t notice how Taehyun’s ears seem to be just a shade redder than they had been before. How he seems to divert his gaze ever so slightly. How his smile dips into something a touch too affectionate.
He chuckles, breaking you out of your stupor.
“Okay, okay.” Is his answer, if anything, just to get you to stop talking like that about him. “I’ll accept it, but on one condition.”
Oh? Curiosity ignites in you, anticipation and nervousness mixing into a concoction that laps at your feet like a treacherous ocean’s waves.
Nothing could have prepared you for his next words. Somewhere in the back of your head, the little voice in your brain high fives itself, but the normal part of your consciousness feels the anxiety gathering in your hands in the form of sudden, excessive sweating.
“Let’s meet up again,” he breathes, and you can almost hear the tremble in his voice. “Not for school. As friends.”
It feels like your soul has left your body entirely. Like you’ve been physically and mentally cut out from reality in a pathetic puff of smoke. He cannot be serious. This is not real.
“Um.” Great start, idiot. “I… I mean, okay.” Despite how terribly your sentence comes out, Taehyun smiles. That smile of his that has been plaguing you all day, beaming so bright it could permanently erase every shadow from the world.
You’re no stranger to the tiredness that weighs down your bones and glues your eyelids shut for a second too long when you blink. No stranger to the faint headache that you drown out with over the counter medicine as you make your way to class.
But when it comes to Taehyun, you feel as if you could get through anything.
#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt imagines#taehyun x reader#taehyun x gn reader#taehyun soft hours#taehyun soft thoughts#taehyun fluff#writing tag
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