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#snorts okay okay i’ll do it watch this
tequiilasunriise · 10 months
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I am by no means Ada’s best supporter but I WILL say that her accusing Annabel, resident girlboss lesbian, fer being into Prospero isn’t as bad when you remember like 99% of White Raven moments were done in secrecy between just the two of them- almost like that was the poinntt whooaaa- and also she’s having a super bad mental breakdown with clouded judgement right now.
Prospero has never treated Annabel badly and actually had some good moments of teamwork with her, Annabel is rushing to his defense right now, putting this limited info of two and two together and to be honest Ada jumping to the conclusion that Annabel was into him isn’t like, a GREAT guess, but given her super mega heartbreak mode that went so crazy it triggered her spectre yeaaaahhhh I can see why she’d jump the gun into delusioning Annabel’s heterosexuality like that.
That being said I will still absolutely clown on this repressed, closeted as all hell bisexual’s complete and utter lack of gaydar because yeah that shit’s funny as hell keep the memes coming <333
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bootyful-seventeen · 2 months
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I am heavily contemplating on buying myself a dvd player soon and buying all the DVDs for a ton of movies and tv shows I grew up watching cuz I miss the magic of dvds
#hear me out on this one okay. but the Barbie movies were magic on dvd back in the day#and I do wanna see if stores are still selling the old strawberry shortcake dvds before I go online for those#I wanna snort that nostalgia so bad#and of course I’ll need to get the dcau on dvd#like all of it cuz I’m so bored with the dccu since we don’t get as much new stuff#it’s always Batman or superman and love them but I’m kinda bored from always seeing a new bman or sups movie#Wonder Woman I wouldn’t mind a new actor for her but I know she’s not gonna be a muscle mommy which I’ll be sad about#give me a Wonder Woman that is built like rhea ripely god damnit#the flash is eh cuz I found out this whole time I’ve been watching the Wally west flash#but yeah Wally is who I want and then there’s the green lantern like dude is so cool iams all we have is the 1 from 2011 I think#sure I could watch some of the tv series they have but I have too many shows on my watch list it’s overwhelming at times so I skip over lots#tho I will have to pray like crazy cuz some of the things I know I want are probably gonna be expensive as fuck even as second hand#saw a class of the titans season 1 dvd going for $81 cad 💀💀💀#the world is not kind to those who don’t love the digital age#I prefers my dvds cuz I own it and no one can take it away from me unless they physically steal it#omg I’m turning into my grandma cuz she still had the vhs player with some tapes too#just wish she never donated the tapes for swan princess 1-3 and Anastasia and ferngully and basically all my faves that she owned#like Ngl a part of me wants to hit up value village just to see if maybe they’re still there or if I’ll find other copies of the same things#cuz a perk about cities with older people is that you get so much older tech and other items it’s insane
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badjokesbyjeff · 15 days
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A blonde walks in a bank to get a loan. “I need to borrow $100 for a month,” she says. 
The banker frowns, but takes her information anyway. He runs her credit but can’t find a report. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but in the absence of a credit record, we’ll have to charge 20% interest on the loan, and you’ll need to put up collateral.
“What does that mean?” the blonde says.
“It means,” the banker says, “you’ll have to repay us $120, and you’ll need to give us something more valuable to hold onto until you pay us back.”
“Something more valuable?” The blonde says. “How about my Ferrari?”
The banker nearly snorts his coffee all over his desk, but he prides himself on customer service so he soldiers on. He runs the title on the Ferrari and what do you know, the blonde owns it free and clear. “Okay, he says, “I’ll print out the papers.”
“Just so I understand,” the blonde says, “I give you my Ferrari and you give me a hundred dollars, right? And then in a month, I give you $120 and you give me my Ferrari back?”
“Yes,” the banker says, “that’s the deal.”
She signs the paperwork and hands him the keys. He counts out $100 for her and watches her saunter out the door.
A month to the day later, he’s sitting at his desk when the blonde saunters back in. She hands him $120 and says “I get my car back, right?”
“Yep, he says as he hands her the keys. She turns to go but he stops her. “Miss, I really have to ask, why did you use a $140,000 car as collateral on a $100 loan?”
“Oh!” The blonde says. “I got called out of town unexpectedly on business. How else can I park a Ferrari for a month in Manhattan for only $20?”
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suguann · 2 months
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There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend—not that he’s liked any of your past relationships over the years, but this one he’s more vocal about—with a name not worth remembering. Matt? Martin?
He’d stopped trying after his first week back from work.
“I don’t fucking trust him,” he says one night while at the pub right under your apartment; it’s become a weekly ritual of sorts when he’s on leave ever since meeting you there on Soap’s birthday several years back. 
“You say that about every guy I have you meet,” you tell him in that know-it-all voice that you always use with him. “You hardly even know him, and his name’s Marcus, by the way. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”
He snorts. “Love, the bloke would put his cock in anyone with tits and a warm cunt.”
“He wouldn’t,” your voice is soft because maybe you already know.
He would.
You’re so fucking oblivious that you don’t even realize this, but there’s nothing except stars in your eyes whenever you look at (or even talk about) the Naval officer who thinks he’s some bigshot because he can fly a plane. 
Even now, at your boyfriend’s promotion after-party in some back alley nightclub, he’s hardly talked to you or offered to get you a drink. You’re always too nervous to order one by yourself, and only Simon—tall and imposing standing beside you—could have the grumpiest bartender reach for the blender to make a blended cocktail. 
When he comes back with your drink—too big fingers unfolding the tiny umbrella for you—he watches your boyfriend (Marcus) flirt with a girl in a tight leather dress on the other side of the room. It’s that moment that he decides he’s tired of you giving your attention to someone who doesn’t deserve it, tired of you lying belly up for men who only want to sink their teeth into you and leave once they’ve had their fill. 
He likes to think he’s a pretty good friend—opening your eyes to something better is a job he takes rather seriously.
“It’s just a bit of fun,” he says after coming back with your third margarita, a small amount of frothy liquid sloshing over the side when he sets it down in front of you. “It’s okay to want it.”
You bite your lip, eyes dropping down to where he’s patting his thigh. “Just fun?”
“Yes, love.” He smiles. “Just fun.”
Let me.
Whether you’re tipsier than he thought or he’s just really persuasive, it’s easy to get you crawling into his lap in the corner of the cracked leather booth. His hands wander the span of your smooth thighs where your short skirt doesn’t reach, and he muffles a groan in your shoulder when you start squirming against the tent in his jeans.
You say his name like a warning when his hands find their way under your skirt, yet you’re biting back a moan and don’t tell him to stop.
Simon undoes his jeans and shifts them down before pushing up the back of your skirt and adjusting your hips to watch the tip of his dick slide between the covered cleft of your ass. Nobody in the room can see what the both of you are doing with your skirt fanning around his lap, but someone could if they were truly looking, and that has him tugging your panties to the side so he can feel you.
"Your boyfriend is too stupid to realize you're sitting here riding my lap. What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"
 “W-wait, Simon!” you squeak. “What if he sees—”
He’s almost tempted to roll his eyes at your blind devotion—I’ll deal with it—dealing with it would be him making sure the prick never tries talking to you again.
Then, his fingers, like iron at your hips, jerk you back to impale you on his cock. "Fuck," he says, voice trembling around the edges.
“O-oh! It’s too—ah—too big!”
He wraps a hand around the slender slope of your throat, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh as he pulls you back until his lips are at your ear, nose pressing into the soft skin of your cheek. “Come on, love. I know you can take the whole thing. Right inside this tight cunt.”
Simon thrusts into you shallowly, just the tip going in and out, and you whine, little fingers scrabbling at his wrist—gasping and shivering and bucking in the trap of his arms.
A smirk curls at the edges of his mouth when he finally bottoms out in your hot-wet cunt for your boyfriend to see from the other side of the room. He'd laugh at how his jaw drops, but he can only manage little choked intakes of air at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him.
“Squeeze my cock for me—fuck, there you go.” He presses a kiss below your ear and reaches down to pet your soaked clit with his thumb. Feels the moment you realize that your boyfriend is watching when you tense up.
“I’ll deal with it,” he says again and again until you’re melting into him, thighs trembling around his. “Promise. I promise…”
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I apologize if you see this again! I was trying to edit it, and it wouldn't format right with the gif. You can find part two here.
masterlist
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mmeskywalker · 30 days
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|| new years and blooming hearts
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summary: you’re in pansy’s dorm getting ready to go to the slytherin new year’s eve party. only, you’re a hufflepuff… you arrive to the party and the tension between you and THEODORE NOTT is palpable; so palpable in fact that matteo and enzo decide to help a brother out (by making theodore so insanely jealous that he arrived to his breaking point.) through breathless laughter, cold stares and tough crowds, you find yourself by theo, oddly enough during the countdown til midnight.
word count: 6.6k+
a/n: this is lowercase intended. i just wanted to write about theodore nott/lorenzo zurzolo because he has me in a chokehold. also, i read a fic with a similar concept to this but i can’t find it. if anyone knows which fic i’m referring to, please tag the creator in the comments.
- please imagine theodore with an italian accent, thanks!!! 😓
warnings: italian!theo. jealous!theo. angsty. friends to lovers. slowburn. oblivious reader and theo (they’re both clearly in love). love confession. tension. heavy kissing. pansy x blaise.
6:00P.M.
“okay… so what i’m hearing is that you hate me and want me to die.” you flinched at the dress pansy held to your body, your nose twitching as you dramatically gagged.
it was yellow with black stripes, reminding you of the bee movie you had previously watched with her and your friends in the slytherin common room.
pansy was cackling beside you; her hair hanging low in her face as loud snorts tumbled from her nose. “no—no you have to hear me out,” she cackled. “it’s perfect! it’ll match your house and everything, baby.”
“you know what else is perfect?” your lips twitched into a malice smile.
“what?” she was still laughing, hardly able to contain herself as she ran her fingers through her hair.
grabbing your wand, you pointed it toward the dress. “evanesco!” you quickly shouted, a smirk now adorning your lips as the fabric disappeared from her grasp.
“you’re no fun,” she pouted, her laughter ceasing before giggles bubbled right back up again. “i’ll tell you what, i think i do have a dress for you to wear. trust me?” she asked, still giggling as she cocked her head to the side.
“i don’t know…” you teased, “are you going to pull out another bumblebee catastrophe?”
“no, i promise.” she interlocked her pinky with yours, the laughter finally dying down.
after a moment, you sat on her bed, your head leaning against the headboard as you waited for her to find what she was looking for in the mess she called ‘closet’.
your fingers danced around your wand, attempting to spin it around your unskilled grasp—only for it to end up dropping to your side. you blew out a stream of tense air. “have you found it yet?” you impatiently wailed.
“hold on,” she replied, annoyed.
after holding on for what felt like half an hour — two minutes max — she found the dress she was looking for
and it was beautiful.
it was a black dress with spaghetti straps that would clearly hug your body; long, plain, but gorgeous; just what you wanted.
“pans, it’s perfect.” you said, excitement rushing through your veins before it pained back down. well shit, you thought as your heart practically pounded in your chest.
tonight was the slytherin house party hosted to celebrate the new year. you’re a hufflepuff, a hufflepuff that managed to befriend the group of slytherin that everyone wanted but couldn’t become friends with. you knew most of the slytherin house disliked you, but your friends were feared, nobody dared to say too much about you to your face.
how sweet of them, you thought.
“yeah, it’s nothing special, but paired with a few gold accessories and your pretty face it’s going to look great!” pansy set the dress on the blanket beside you, her hands smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles before meeting your gaze. “woah— hey what’s wrong?” she asked.
“uh,” you stuttered, looking toward the dress once, twice, before making eye contact with her again. “nothing’s— wrong?” you said, clearly trying to convince yourself of that matter rather than her.
you weren’t too emotional, always being able to hold a strong ground, but you had your days; like most hufflepuff. you guessed that today was one of those days.
great.
“baby, what’s wrong?” pansy asked again, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “you know i’d never seriously make fun of you, right? you can talk to me,” she laughed softly, looking at you with an understanding gaze.
“it’s stupid.” you muttered, a smile creeping on your face despite the heavy turmoil in your chest. “i don’t even know if i should be going to this party… i don’t belong there.”
pansys brows furrowed. “whose making you feel like you don’t belong there?” she was upset, that of which you could tell.
“uh, everyone?” you responded as if it were as plain as day. “well, not you and our friends of course… but everyone else. they so-obviously don’t want me at their party, and i understand that; i mean, i’m a hufflepuff.”
pansy rolled her eyes. “screw them,” she said. “i want you there. matteo wants you there, enzo, draco, and blaise, all want you there.” her eyes glistened in the dim candlelighting, squinting as she drawled out her last sentence with an undeniable tease, “theo wants you there.”
pansy has known about your little crush on theo for years. it started in third year, when he began calling you that nickname you’ve just recently learned the meaning to: soffio.
it meant puff; a simple word that referred to your house, but it made your heart flutter.
he gave you that nickname
and it meant the world to you.
however, your delusions were just delusions. he didn’t know how much that name meant to you because he made it out of ridicule; a teasing ridicule, but ridicule at that.
“whatever,” you rolled you eyes, your thumb brushing away the singular tear rolling down your flushed cheek.
pansy smiled, getting out of bed, grabbing your hands to pull you off of the mattress as well. “you’re coming tonight,” she sing-songed. “and you don’t have a choice.”
7:30P.M.
"are you ready yet?!" pansy yelled against the bathroom door, pounding on it as you stared at yourself in the mirror.
your eyes shifted down the length of your body.
the dress looked just as good on as you imagined it would in your head, and if you were being honest, you're more-so holding her up to stare at yourself a little longer.
cocky, but whatever because you felt and looked amazing.
“one second!” you shouted, fluffing your hair up softly to make it look as if you ‘rolled out of bed’ in a perfect, flawless type way.
you could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she counted, “one,” but you had already opened the door.
she looked stunning as well, wearing a long-sleeved, dark green dress with three gold rings forming a line down her slightly exposed chest.
“pansy, baby, you look so freaking pretty!” you squealed, your hands intertwined with hers mid-air as you both grinned at each other like overly-excited school girls. “me? oh my gosh, what about you?!” she said, her hands moving to your shoulders and rocking you gently as her eyes glistened. “you look so, so gorgeous, y/n!!!”
“i think theo’s going to have a mannerism,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.
“whatever,” you giggled.
. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .
8:00P.M.
two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,
two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,
two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,
but you’re only focused on six of them.
the six you felt safest around:
pansy parkinson (duh),
matteo riddle,
lorenzo berkshire,
(somehow) draco malfoy,
blaise zabini,
and theodore nott.
obviously, you didn’t walk in unnoticed.
matteo immediately sat up from the couch, making his way over to you as he watched you walk in with pansy. “funny seeing you here,” he teased, “how’s my favorite hufflepuff doing?” his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to kiss the top of your head.
“yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed him away. “and i’m okay, a little nervous, but i’m all good. y’know?”
“nervous?” matteo asked, cocking a brow.
you shot him a look and he quickly understood. “ah, no need to worry about them.” he promised, “they’ll be dealt with if they do anything.”
your forehead wrinkled slightly as you shot him a weary smile. “thanks.” you replied coolly, noticeably unsure of his intentions.
from across the room, theo’s eyes lit up, his frown transforming into a soft, bright smile as he made his way through the thick crowd to get to you. “soffio, you’re here.” his lips brushed against your hair, his arms wrapped around your head, pulling your cheek flat against his chest.
his italian accent was thick and heavy, harder to understand as his voice muffled into the depths of your hair, but you still felt a blush crawl over your flesh.
“theo—“ you muttered, your voice just as muffled as he pulled you even closer, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other threaded through your hair, “i thought you weren’t going to show up, bella, i was worried,” he then whispered.
matteo shot him a look.
“theo you’re crushing me!” you giggled, your hands crawling up his chest to create a little distance between the two of you.
his large hand gently caressed your cheek; four fingers stroking your jaw as his thumb lingered in its original place, now smiling as he pulled away. “mi dispiace,” he whispered before turning his attention to the friend making his way over.
"i'm surprised you showed up," blaise drawled, leaning against the wall with an amused smirk. "thought you'd run the other way once you heard who all was coming." despite his words, there was warmth in his gaze as it met yours, a spark of admiration glinting in their depths.
“oh, shut up,” pansy hit his side, rolling her eyes. “if you scare her away i’ll beat your ass,” she then whispered, eyes squinting as she playfully bit down on her words.
“relax, ma.” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips, squeezing them gently as he leaned down to kiss her, “let’s go get a drink, yeah?”
“and that’s my cue to leave,” pansy playfully hit your thigh, shooting a quick glance to theo as if she knew something you didn’t, “don’t do too much without me.”
you shivered as you watched her walk away, your mind racing at what she could have meant; knowing her, it could be anything.
draco entered the room then, scanning the gathering with a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he hesitated when he spotted you surrounded by the others, finally shrugging as if it wouldn't bother him either way before striding over. "y/l/n," he greeted coolly, shooting a smug look at matteo and theodore. "happy almost new year."
you wrinkled your nose at draco, a playful challenge lighting up in your eyes. "happy almost new year to you too, malfoy."
lorenzo approached last, his gaze taking in the group with a slow appraisal before he settled on you. there was something unreadable lurking behind his dark eyes, a mixture of surprise and a slight hint of desire. "quite the turnout," he murmured.
weird, you thought.
"aye, quite the turnout," matteo replied, chuckling softly as he placed a hand on lorenzo's shoulder. there was a brief moment of tension between them as they glanced toward you and theo, a silent understanding passing between the two of them before both men simply let it slide.
what seemed to you as theo ignoring their odd behavior, he turned to face everyone, clapping his hands together. "ah," he grinned, his voice full of mirth. "glad you decide to join us, lorenzo." theo patted his side.
lorenzo grinned, patting theo’s side in return, “wouldn’t wanna be here with anyone else.” he replied before looking toward the brunette woman he felt eyeing him down. “except maybe her,” he then smirked.
you heard matteo sigh, muttering a series of curse words as draco snickered beside him.
“whore,” draco spoke as if his commentary were a compliment, but lorenzo was too busy undressing the girl with his eyes to notice.
“well go up to her,” you groaned, rolling your eyes teasingly as you pushed him away from the circle. “don’t be a puss; drinking her up from afar is an unattractive trait, berkshire.”
he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. “oh, you’re in for it later,” he chuckled. “wish me luck, love.”
‘good luck,’ you mouthed as he began to walk toward the girl, the tension in the room shifting.
theo scowled at lorenzo, three fingers rubbing against his thumb as matteo teasingly brushed the italian’s side. “chill,” he whispered, a shady smile playing on his lips.
“do not tell me to chill,” theo’s voice rose. “i am chill, no need to tell me to chill if i am already.”
your brows furrowed slightly, confused as to why theo snapped so suddenly. “everything okay?” you asked, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against his bicep before he blew out a sigh.
“yes, soffio,” he shakily assured, finding the hand you placed on his bicep, sliding it into his palm, and kissing your knuckles gently. “i’m— i’m okay.”
matteo grinned brightly as an idea struck his mind. “alcohol, anyone?”
8:30P.M.
you were trying not to spill your drink as you made your way back through the crowd. yeah, you were wearing a black dress, so you guessed that a stain wouldn’t really matter… but you still hated the feeling of wet fabric against your skin.
“ow,” you muttered as you bumped into matteo’s chest. don’t worry, you did not spill your beverage.
you were about to apologize until you noticed lorenzo standing beside him, now turning to stand behind you. your brows furrowed to the bridge of your nose. staring at them intensely, you asked, “uh, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“we’re going to help you out, girlfriend,” matteo smirked, his eyes a dangerous game, his tone slithering directly into one ear then finding its way out the next.
“like i said,” you scowled. “uh, what?”
“do you want a new years kiss or not?” lorenzo asked, his palm finding your waist to keep you steady as you tried to walk away.
you slapped his hand. “not from you, berkshire.” you spat.
“obviously not from me, idiot.” he rolled his eyes. “from theodore.”
your eyes lit.
matteo cocked his brow, “there might be one before new years though if he doesn’t crack.”
this time, you did spill your drink—a little of the liquid dripping from the rim of your cup as your hand jerked forward. “what are you talking about, matty?” your voice dripped with disgust as you then slapped lorenzo’s hand away from your waist, “and let go of me.”
“do you like theodore or not?” matteo asked, clearly annoyed.
“none of the bullshit either, sweetheart.” lorenzo dragged. “everyone can tell you’re crazy about the guy, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”
“you know what they say…new year, new confessions.” matteo cocked a brow, waiting for you to come clean.
you huffed, the need to correct him strong as you rolled your eyes. “they don’t say that,” you said, but you were now looking toward the ground… “okayyesiliketheo,” you muttered.
“what was that?” lorenzo asked, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. “one more time for me, love?”
“yes; merlin, yes, okay! i like theo,” you bit in a faint yet deadly whisper. “what do you want from me? a cookie?”
matteo smirked, looking around before taking a step closer to you, “atta girl.” he said, “enzo and i’ve been thinking,” - “not a good sign.” - “girl, shut up. we were thinking and we know a way to get theo to confess his feelings.”
before you could ask how, you felt lorenzo’s proximity come closer as well. “he’s protective over you, that we all know.”
you couldn’t necessarily see enzo roll his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his tone.
“we’re going to make him jealous.” matteo added.
lorenzo nodded, “precisely.”
he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. "oh, you're in for it later," he chuckled. "wish me luck, love."
'good luck, you mouthed.
“see, you were playing along before you even realized.” matteo nudged your shoulder playfully and you finally laughed, easing up a bit.
“you really think this is going to work?” you asked, a little unsure of the whole situation.
to that, lorenzo scoffed. “i know it’s going to work.” he stated. “darling, theo is head over heels for you; you’re all he talks about. let’s just consider this to be theo’s wake up call.”
9:00P.M.
you’re now wineless.
you downed three cup-fulls of the substance to take your mind off the fact you’re sitting on lorenzo berkshire’s lap at a party; a guy you’ve always thought of as a brother.
“i’m sorry.” he whispered against the side of your head, “i know how uncomfortable this may be for you.”
“not uncomfortable,” you responded, your head now resting against his shoulder, and that was the truth. you weren’t uncomfortable, “this is just different.”
he nodded, his gaze lingering on theo’s hand as he watched his knuckles turn white around a glass. “somebodies getting angry,” enzo chuckled. theo never contemplated anything when it came to you, must be the italian in him well, except maybe when it came to confessing his feelings. you watched as he began to walk toward the two of you. “prepare yourself, love.” enzo then warned.
“lorenzo,” theodore smiled, a forced smile, one that laid heavy on his chest. “how about you come on a walk with me, yeah? i want to speak with you privately.”
his eyes found yours—they were heavy and disappointed. your heart sank further, but you only held onto lorenzo a little tighter.
“woah, heyyy, what’s going on here?” matteo quickly intervened, gently patting theo on the back as he looked at you and lorenzo. “i didn’t know you two were a thing!” matteo sounded astonished, his mouth dropping as he chuckled. “theo, buddy, isn’t this wonderful news?”
the scowl on theodore’s face was apparent as he muttered, “considerati fortunata, puttana,” (consider yourself lucky, whore.) under his breath, but he quickly nodded. “yeah, such great and—wonderful news, mio amico.”
“you think?” lorenzo smirked, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before kissing your neck, cheekily staring at theodore as your hand entangled into his brunette hair.
theodore’s eyes darkened as he sipped his alcohol, an angry noise bubbling from his throat. “yep.” he bit, “it’s fucking wonderful.”
“now that’s good sportsmanship.” matteo rubbed theo’s back before continuing. “hey! i have an idea. why don’t we go dancing? how does that sound, lovebirds!”
you slid off lorenzo’s lap and he was quick to follow suite, his arm sliding around your hipbone, pressing your back against his chest. he had to be strongly willed because the way theodore’s gaze burned through his skull wasn’t easy to ignore.
at least you couldn’t ignore it.
it made you sick to your stomach.
theo set his glass on the table. “you do that—i’m going for a smoke.”
9:30P.M.
theo didn’t go outside to smoke.
instead, he was leaned against a wall, a cigarette planted between his parted lips as his eyes stuck to yours like glue; watching you dance against lorenzo rather than him.
you decided not to make eye contact with theodore because if you did you’d end up stopping the plan right then and there.
“enzo,” you muttered, your gaze struggling to stay on the ground as his chin rested on your head, swaying to the music with his hands on your waist. “hmm?” he hummed.
“could you, um,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering to theodore’s and immediately regretting it. “turn me around.”
he nodded, his gaze now facing theodore’s pained one as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck to comfort yourself. in return, he gave you a squeeze. “i know how hard this is for you, love,” he whispered, “but trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”
“are you sure?” you asked, your mind beginning to race. “because he hasn’t done anything other than stare. i mean, who stares at the person they supposedly have a crush on as they dance with your best friend?…oh my merlin,” you muttered, reality hitting you. “i’m dancing with his best friend.”
you tried to back away but lorenzo’s grip tightened around you, “y/n.”
“i’m going to hell,” you continued. “this is it for me. i’m literally the worst person alive. hell. that’s my future. h. e. double hockey stic—“
enzo squeezed your hips, signaling that he’s about to kiss you. “now?!” you shouted in an angry whisper. lorenzo nodded, his eyes darting toward theodore’s again, watching as he began to make his way over.
“now.” he confirmed and your stomach backflipped.
a hand came to your cheek, lorenzo’s thumb covering your mouth as he kissed that rather than you; to the unassuming eye, the kiss was passionate, stomach hurling curling.
any girl would die to kiss lorenzo berkshire; slytherin’s number one heart throb.
just not you.
but boy did you put on a show.
theodore stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching forward as a communication indicator but falling back to his side in defeat. he turned back around.
good thing you didn’t see that because you would’ve chased after him, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately; not his fucking best friend.
10:30P.M.
you were comfortable dancing with lorenzo when theodore’s eyes weren’t burning through the two of you; laughing as his hands ghosted over your hips, dancing to the music as friends rather than ‘lovers’.
you almost forgot about the whole plan.
“thought that she… was with theo.” a slytherin you didn’t recognize commented.
“must be a pass around.” another smirked, and your heart sank even further.
you stepped away from lorenzo, emotions stirring as you made eye contact with the group talking about you.
their commentary came to an end as you watched matteo approach them in your peripheral vision. you didn’t hear much bickering after that, but regardless, your vision began to blur.
looking around, you noticed everyone staring at you, and you took another step back.
“hey— hey!” lorenzo was close to you again.
“what?” you bit. “this whole thing, this whole plan is stupid and i want to stop.”
“y/n.” he chuckled, looking around awkwardly, trying to place his arms around you waist but you smacked him hard in the chest, sending him slightly backward.
a small gasp tumbled from his parted lips.
you didn’t shout, but your voice graveled as you continued to walk into him. “i’m.” you hit him again. “not.” again. “doing.” again. “this.” and again. “anymore!”
but his arms stayed around you.
“i want to stop!” you were crying now, going limp against his chest as your throat burned. “please, please let me stop, enz… please.”
enzo drug a hand to your lower back, doing what he knew he needed to do. “don’t worry. i’ll go find pansy.” he whispered before kissing your temple.
10:45P.M.
“pans,” you cried, your mascara staining your cheeks as you burried yourself in her arms. “this was a mistake—i shouldn’t have agreed to their stupid plan.”
“hey,” she whispered, her fingers gently massaging your scalp. “we’ve all fallen for their antics before, don’t blame yourself too badly, honeybee.”
you shot her a look and she cocked her head, smiling empathetically, “not the time?”
“i’ll tell you what,” she whispered again, casting a small spell to rid the mascara from your cheeks before pulling your shoulders back to look you in the eye. “don’t leave. give it until midnight like planned, and if it goes wrong…” pansy took her phone out, a recording of both matteo and lorenzo stopping you earlier to explain the plan playing on screen.
she then smirked, “i’ll show him this.”
“when did you take that?” you asked, your fingers trailing down the length of the phone before looking at her skeptically; eyes still swollen.
her gaze shifted toward the ground, “let’s just say i was um… in on the whole thing…”
“don’t worry, though.” she says, brushing the final tear on your cheek away with the base of her thumb as she smiled. “they came to me so things wouldn’t get all fucked up… they care about you y/n, and they care about theodore, they don’t want to ruin this thing you have with him, okay?”
you nod, and she hugs you one last time before you have to go and find lorenzo.
11:00P.M.
“you seem tense, y/l/n,” draco found you before you found lorenzo.
his gaze drifted toward theodore, who was currently yelling at matteo—who was currently yelling at matteo. draco’s eye widened, astonished at the sight laid before him, “and i think i know why.”
“no, no, no, fuck!” you shouted, about to run toward them before the pair of hands you’d become so acquainted with today found your waist a-fucking-gain.
“do not.” enzo spat. “just be patient.”
draco raised his brows, clearly not even wanting to know as he silently left the scene.
“he’s going to kill him!” you shouted, struggling in his grasp, “let. me. GO.”
enzo rolled his eyes, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn little asshole?”
you paused for a moment. “hm, yes,” you nodded. now let me go.”
he held on tighter.
11:15P.M.
“no, no , no,” theodore’s fingers ran through his hair, “what is he doing to her, matteo? he shouldn’t be dancing with her like—like that! she’s a lady!”
theodore wasn’t yelling at matteo, his movements made it look as if he were upset, but he wasn’t. well… not at matteo at least.
matteo, being such a good friend, was letting theodore rant to him about how much he valued you and your friendship.
otherwise known as: matteo wanted to milk theo to his breaking point.
“dancing with her like what?” matteo asked, staring at you and lorenzo as he swayed and rocked his hips against yours. “seems to me like they’re having a little fun, if you know what i mean.” he winked playfully.
“jokester.” theodore drawled, pushing his shoulder. “i don’t like seeing her with him.”
matteo cocked his brow, “yeah and why’s that, buddy?” his head tilted to the side, “are you… jealous?”
theo looked astounded, immediately shaking his head in denial. “no, of course not.” he said, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of red as his anger grew palpable. “but she shouldn’t be here with that imbecille.”
“here we go again,” matteo rolled his eyes, groaning. “you never think anyone is right for her, dude. you have to give it a break.”
“a break,” theo threw his hand flat out in front of him, his forearm horizontal against his stomach. he drew it out, creating an invisible line. “she disserves someone that respects her, not a man like lorenzo.”
becoming harder to contain himself, matteo raised a brow at theo. "you mean deserves?” he grinned, continuing to drawl, “and who says he isn't the one for her?"
theo appeared as if he were on the verge of snapping. that caused matteo to chuckle, clasping his hands together as he grinned. “aw, what’s wrong, theo?” he playfully pouted, “you don’t like seeing them together? you poor, poor thing,” he puffed his lips. “guess you can’t do anything about it now.”
theo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he glared at matteo. "this isn’t right," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "that boy is not good for her, and you know it."
matteo raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back from theo. "whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "i’m just messing with you. I know you care about her, but you can't control who she chooses to be with."
theo's gaze never left matteo, but he slowly relaxed his posture, his anger simmering down. "don’t mess with me right now, matteo," he warned, his voice still tense. "this is y/n we’re talking about; that boy will corrupt her!”
matteo shrugged, a smirk still playing on his lips. "maybe she likes the bad boys," he teased, gesturing toward you and lorenzo. "maybe she's into a little danger and excitement."
theo scoffed, muttering a curse under his breath. matteo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to his friend, his tone becoming serious.
“you love her, buddy.” he said softly, his words filled with gentle understanding, “i know you do; trust me, i’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her since first year. just talk to her.”
the moment stretched thinly between them, theo's face twisting with an agonizing mix of emotions. things became tense, and both men glanced over to where you and lorenzo danced in the distance.
“i need a drink,” theo muttered.
11:30P.M.
“this sucks,” you groaned, looking at lorenzo only to find that his gaze is back on the brunette girl from earlier. you watched him, rolling your eyes before taking that chance to slip away.
music blared throughout the common room, it was upbeat and happy, but your focus drifted toward the window as you sat on the ledge.
you could feel the weather seeping through the glass, a gentle coldness caressing your cheeks as you took a deep breath in.
you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples with your fingertips, trying to clear your thoughts as you stared out into the misty night. winter breezes blew through the open windows, accompanied by the distant sounds of laughter resounding from behind you, but for some reason, you couldn't enjoy yourself.
a part of you longed to rejoin the festivities, while another wished for escape entirely. lost in thought, time seemed to blur until suddenly, draco’s voice startled you from your own thoughts.
"i wasn't aware the fireplace emitted such an enticing scent." he commented dryly, leaning casually against the window frame beside you. "or did you just need another excuse to avoid lorenzo back there?"
you repeated, "an excuse," you blew out a string of air, turning to look at draco with a raised eyebrow. "or maybe i just needed a break from the chaos."
draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "chaos?" he echoed, leaning back against the window frame. "i thought you enjoyed these kinds of gatherings."
you shrugged, looking back out into the night. "sometimes," you admitted, "but not when i'm stuck in the middle of a bunch of drama."
draco's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. "don’t be too hard on yourself, y/l/n," he said softly, his tone more serious now. "you're just trying to figure things out, like the rest of us."
you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered his words; words that you never thought you’d hear from him. "maybe," you murmured, glancing back at him. "but it's hard when everyone else seems to have it all figured out."
draco's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. "we all have our moments, y/n," hemumbled. "don't fall through to others. just focus on what makes you happy."
his eyes flicked toward the party, a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "trust me, even the most confident among us struggle on occasion. and that includes myself." he added, smirk reappearing briefly.
you sighed, examining his hand holding yours, his grip firm yet comforting.
"it's hard to believe sometimes," your fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. "everything's getting complicated."
"maybe," draco mused, "and that's alright. life would be boring without consequences and complications." he smiled, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.
for the first time, you felt a pang of pity for him- not because he was malfoy, but because he was human.
draco’s eyes drew over yours, then they glanced toward theodore who was cocking his head in your direction. the boy seemed to follow you everywhere, not letting you get too far when anyone approached you.
“i better get out of here before your real boyfriend starts to think i want any trouble,” draco chuckled.
you looked up at him, "what?" he waved, his brows angled in an amused position as he grinned. "i'll see you later," he chuckled.
you hesitated, your gaze flickering between draco and theo, who was still watching you from afar. you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for this whole evening.
"yeah, see you later," you murmured, pulling your hand away from draco's and standing up.
draco nodded, his smirk never wavering. "don't let theo get too jealous now," he teased before turning and disappearing back into the party.
you watched draco walk away, a mix of amusement and confusion playing on your face. you couldn't help but feel a little flustered by his teasing, but you also couldn't deny that he had a point.
11:45P.M.
you looked up at the clock, contemplating on whether or not to just go back to your dorm. you were tired of pretending, and it wasn’t like enzo was coming back to you anytime soon. he had that girl pressed against the wall, his lips violently sucking the sweet spot under her jaw, her legs wrapped around his waist.
“fifteen minutes til new years,” an overhead announced, “head outside for the firework show, or don’t, whatever!”
their voice was cocky, but it caused you to finally crack a smile as you headed toward the door. you weren’t going to mope, but you also weren’t going to bother your friends who were clearly busy with their lovers or one-night stands.
the music was still loud outside, blaring messages from her by sabrina claudio through the speakers as you stood by a fountain.
sitting on the ledge, you watched the water, the stillness of it causing you to relax.
somewhere behind you, you heard footsteps crunching on gravel and snow. slowly, you turned to see theodore walking toward you hunched down into his coat.
his eyes met yours and a sympathetic look crossed his features. "i couldn't stay away," he whispered, further approaching until he was sitting on the ledge next to you.
though it pained you, you smiled at him, wanting to say a million things but you voice falling flat as he shifted around nervously.
“you must be freezing,” he then commented, pretending to just now notice your spaghetti strapped dress as he slid out of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and carefully draping it over yours.
"thank you, theo." you murmured, wrapping the familiar fabric of his jacket around you, the scent of him clinging to it.
theo glanced away, his jaw tightening before he spoke again, seeming to collect his thoughts.
"happy new year, soffio," he said cautiously, focusing his attention back on the fountain.
you mirrored his gaze, feeling a tear pool in your eye. your throat burned as you swallowed. "happy new year," you whispered back, hesitating before tentatively reaching out to grasp his hand.
theo's features softened, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "is it true," he asked quietly, casting a quick glance your way, then looking back sharp to the water.
your breathing hitched, swallowing the lump in your throat. "is what true, theo," you whispered, fixing your gaze on his profile.
“you and lorenzo,” he replied, the sentence like poison on his tongue.
you held back a small breath, shaking your head vigorously. "no," you managed after a heavy exhale.
"then why did you leave me to be with him earlier?" theo questioned stiffly, his own whisper evaporating in the chilled air. you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.
his grip on your hand tightened, though you didn't pull away.
"it's not like that," you mumbled, struggling with your emotions. "it’s complicated..."
your voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding your judgement.
“so tell me, y/n!” theodore’s voice rose, now holding both of your hands, turning you to look him in the eye. “devi dirmelo. (you have to tell me) i can’t take it— i need you to tell me what’s going on between you and lorenzo. is- is he or is he not your lover?”
you watched his eyes plead with you, the desperation washing away some of your fear and anxiety. “it wasn’t real,” you stammered, your voice just as loud. “none of it; the kiss, the dancing, the whole relationship.”
you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation that was about to unfold. "okay?” you shakily muttered, meeting his gaze. "that whole thing was to get us together."
theo's eyes widened, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. "what?" he whispered, clearly taken aback by your confession.
you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i know it sounds crazy, but i wanted to be with you, theo. they told me this would make you ask me out—” you cringed at your sentence, “if you don’t believe me pansy has the whole video."
your voice trembled, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you."
theo stared at you for a long moment, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and hurt. "why would you do that, soffio?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “make me jealous so i’d get with you? bella…”
your eyes welled up with unshed tears, your voice catching as you spoke. "i was scared," you admitted. "scared that you wouldn't see me the same way, scared to ruin our friendship... scared that you wouldn't-"
a sob echoed from your chest, causing you to falter.
"sorry, i'm so sorry, " you breathed, burying your face into his shoulder.
as the realization washed over theodore's face, his embrace around you tightened. "va tutto bene," (it’s okay) he whispered, a catch in his voice as he stroked your hair repeatedly. "soffio, i have loved you for so long. i despised seeing you with him tonight.”
you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for truth. "you... you love me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
theo nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "always, bella, but i never thought you saw me the same way."
you bit your lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "i'm sorry, theo," you murmured, leaning back into his embrace. "i should have told you sooner."
"it's okay," he reassured you, his arms tightening around you. "we can start fresh now. no more games, no more pretending."
you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "i'd like that," you whispered, your eyes closing as you rested your head on his shoulder.
the countdown to midnight began over the speakers, the music dying down as people waited for the new year. “come here,” he whispered, a hand placed on your waist, positioning you to straddle his lap as he rested both palms on your hips.
you hesitated for a moment, but then slowly shifted your weight, wrapping your legs around him as he guided you.
“tell me you want this, bella,” he whispered, one palm gently squeezing your hip as the other came to caress your cheek.
with a subtle smile, you leaned in toward him, whispering into his ear. "i want this, theo," you confirmed.
his adam's apple bobbed, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your lower lip. you closed your eyes, feeling his breath tickling against your skin. there was anticipation on his expression, almost palpable.
as the countdown reached zero, the music swelled, and fireworks exploded in the sky, theo’s palms guided your face in anticipation, tasting you the way he’d dreamed of for years as his lips danced softly, gracefully against yours.
you shivered against him, relishing in the warmth of his embrace as your happiness leaked into every corner of your being.
this moment was different, liberating. his touch, intimate, and sincere.
“bella,” he whispered sweetly, resting his forehead against yours, “don’t you try and win my affection again, understood? it’s yours; it always will be yours.”
you laughed, kissing the tip of his nose as you closed your eyes, “okay, okay. i got it.”
his laughter grew with yours, his head falling to your neck as he softly kissed the delicate skin under your ear, “happy new year, soffio.” he then whispered, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.
“happy new year, theo.”
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pucksandpower · 3 months
Text
Thawed
Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader
Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman
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“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.
You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”
Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”
You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”
As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.
Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.
When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.
***
“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.
Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.
Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.
In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.
“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.
The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.
Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”
Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.
Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.
You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.
Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.
Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.
“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.
You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”
He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.
Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.
Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.
You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.
***
“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”
Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.
You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”
He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.
Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.
“Well? What did they say?”
Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”
He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.
“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”
You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.
“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”
He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”
You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.
***
You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.
“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.
He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.
Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”
She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.
“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.
“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.
He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.
Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.
***
The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.
Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.
“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.
Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.
You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”
Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”
You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”
He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”
You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”
His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”
Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.
“Always.”
***
“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.
He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.
With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.
“Kimi ...”
“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.
You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”
His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.
He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”
You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.
“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.
The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.
“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”
You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.
***
You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.
Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.
“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.
Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.
Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”
“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.
You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”
He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.
“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”
Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.
He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”
You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”
His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.
***
You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.
“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.
He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.
You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”
He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”
When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.
“What is it?” You whisper.
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”
Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.
When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.
***
You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.
He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.
“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.
You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”
He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”
You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”
He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.
When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.
“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.
“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.
He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.
You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.
***
“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.
You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”
Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.
“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”
The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.
Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”
Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”
You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”
He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.
No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.
***
You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.
“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”
He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.
The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.
It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”
Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”
Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”
Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”
Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”
You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”
Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”
As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.
***
You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?
The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.
Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!
You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.
You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”
He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.
As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.
His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.
“Love you too,” he murmurs.
The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.
***
“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.
You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.
“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”
He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.
“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”
You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”
“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”
You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”
He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”
***
You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.
Three minutes have never felt so long.
When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.
Positive.
Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.
You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.
He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”
Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.
Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”
You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.
When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.
You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”
***
You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.
“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.
Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.
The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.
Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.
After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”
You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.
Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.
He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”
You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.
***
You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.
Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.
Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.
“What’s wrong, love?”
You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.
A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”
Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”
Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.
“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”
He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”
His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.
He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”
You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.
***
A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.
“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.
You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.
“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”
Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.
Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.
“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.
Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”
His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.
Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.
Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.
Your family, whole at last.
***
You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.
Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.
He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.
As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”
He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.
You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.
When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.
“You okay?” He rumbles.
You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.
***
The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.
Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.
Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.
“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.
He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”
Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.
But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.
You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”
He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.
No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.
***
“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”
Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”
The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”
You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”
Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.
“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”
The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.
2K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 3 months
Text
Part 5 of Nikto’s Commandments
Nikto is familiar with torture. So, so intimately familiar with it. When he knew nothing else, he knew pain. He knew flayed skin and cracked bone and burnt flesh. He knew screams tangled up in chipped teeth and pulpy tongue. Agony became a filter through which all the world’s color bled.
He didn’t know how sweet torture could be.
He didn’t know he could crave the blade of a kind word. That he could relish the bone-deep ache of a gentle touch. He longs to be drowned in your soap and burned on your skin, wishes every brush would scar as badly as acid. Somehow, he remains intact.
You are a torture he could languish in for eternity. Would gladly be hung with a braid of your hair.
But you, blessed thing, don’t even realize what you do to him. The exquisite suffering that’s remaking him. Or maybe if you do, you’re too merciful to take it from him.
“Nikto…” you croon. You’re flushed and giggly, all but in his lap. “Is this three or four?”
“Four.” He’s been counting, but he won’t stop you from having more.
You wanted to go out with the rest of the KorTac team you two have been sent with. Ever generous, you asked if he’d rather stay in, but Nikto just nudged you out the door and sunk into your shadow like always.
“One more?” you ask.
He grunts in agreement. If you wanted to stay out till sunrise, he would escort you over sunbeams.
Aksel stands to get the next round and you cuddle in against Nikto’s side again. Don’t seem to mind the Kevlar under his shirt, or the knife pressed against your thigh.
“You sure you don’t want to play another round?” Roze goads, smirking, as she shuffles the deck.
You grin, wide and pretty and so blindingly happy. “You just want to cheat me at cards.”
“I could never with your guard dog on duty,” she purrs.
You scrunch your nose this time. “He’s not.”
“A guard dog or on duty?”
“Either! Both!”
Nikto clicks his tongue and slides your half-finished water closer. You agreeably accept the distraction, dutifully sipping another quarter of it under his watchful gaze.
“I am just teasing,” Roze soothes when you set the glass down again. “Nikto just takes care of you. It is good.”
You hum, apparently pleased with her roundabout apology. “It is good.”
You thank Aksel as he sets another glass in front of you, wiping at the side with an already-soggy napkin.
“Courtesy of a man at the bar,” he adds, winking and pointing.
Nikto whips around instantly, makes cold, deadly eye contact with a normal weak unbroken stupid man at the bar. He shifts when he realizes that it’s not your attention he’s getting and awkwardly turns away.
“It’s not drugged, right?” you ask. When Nikto turns back, there’s a frown on your face. He clenches the hand farthest from you, creak of leather lost in the noisy bar.
“No, I kept a close eye,” Aksel assures. “He just tossed some cash down to ‘pay,’ that’s all.”
You snort, shrug. “Whatever.”
Nikto settles again as you continue watching the card game, seemingly content just to be in the company of others. You sip at your last drink of the night, cheering Aksel on as the underdog of the table. Nikto tucks you close and counts cards.
It’s not long before you make an uncomfortable noise and pat at Nikto’s thigh. “Restroom, please!”
He slides out of the booth and silently helps you after him, a shriveled but mending part of him endeared by the wobbly way you cling.
“Okay I think I’ve got it from here,” you assure him, patting his arm.
“You want company?” Roze asks, frowning.
“Only if you need to go too,” you reply, “but it’s right there. I’ll be okay.”
She hums and pushes another few peanuts into the center of the table with the rest of the “pot”. Nikto hesitates, but you point out the door, clearly within eyesight.
“It’ll only be a minute,” you promise, stretching up on your toes to kiss his cheek over the mask. You toddle off before he can do more than freeze.
The whole team is snickering, grinning, or shooting him knowing looks when he haltingly turns back. If he wouldn’t take their hands for it, he’s sure at least one of them would be patting him on the back. But they know better than to try to make conversation, especially without you present, and return to their game. (He thinks this is what you would call “social interaction” and it’s tolerable, for now.)
Nikto counts exactly sixty seconds before turning to watch the hallway to the bathroom. Just in time to see the man that bought you the drink stand and saunter that way. He doesn’t enter the men’s bathroom, only hovers at the edge of the hallway. Waiting.
Nikto stands and crosses the bar with a speed usually reserved for those who don’t know they’re dead yet.
The man sees him coming, wavers between pride and the smart choice. Survival instinct wins out to make the smart choice and he slinks off before Nikto is even within arm’s reach. Not a word is exchanged.
Thirteen seconds later, you stroll from the restroom and instantly catch sight of him.
“Miss me?” you tease, coming right to him.
He hums because you’ll realize he’s being honest if he says yes. But you’re a little too tipsy to do more than grab his hand as he leads you back to the table. Seem amused as he ushers you back into your safe spot in the interior.
Another blissful half hour passes before you lean into him, big eyes peering up through your lashes.
“Ready to go home?” you ask in slow, imperfect Russian.
He’s hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol and his head swims like he’s drunk. You make a surprised noise as he grabs your cheeks in one massive hand, gives a little squeeze.
“Again.”
You blink, a little cross-eyed from how he leans in. “Ready to go home?” you repeat, only slightly less stuttering this time.
It’s obscene how quickly he fills out his pants.
“Yes,” he responds in kind. Your eyes light up.
He tosses some money on the table to cover your drinks and then maneuvers you out. You happily follow along, fingers curled in the edge of his glove.
He bundles you into the separate car you insisted the two of you take, knowing he’s not one for socializing or public. Only goes to the driver’s side once you’re comfortable and buckled in.
“You have been learning Russian,” he asks. It comes out flat, but you know him well enough to just sense the inflection in his voice.
“A little bit,” you admit, beaming. “I’m not good at it. I haven’t had a lot of time to learn.”
He shakes his head. Where did you find the time? And how did he not notice sooner?
“Say something,” he commands, too fascinated to remember who he’s speaking to.
“Ummmmm oh! I love you, Nikto!”
You squeal as he hits the breaks and jerks the wheel, taking the car to the side of the road. Parks there and twists to look at you.
“Say again.”
“I love you, Nikto.”
He narrows his eyes. Leans in. “Do you know what you are saying?”
You must not. How could you of all blessed creatures say something so—
“Yes.” You tilt your head, brows furrowing. “Unless I’m pronouncing it wrong?”
“You are not.”
You are but not so badly that he doesn’t understand - on a surface level at least. He can’t fathom those words coming from your mouth. Directed at him.
His hands convulse on the steering wheel. Wanting to reach for you but unsure why. What he’ll do. He’d never hurt you, that’s the furthest thing from his mind, but he doesn’t trust himself with you either. Not right now.
And then you say something else.
A handful of sounds. A name he hasn’t heard in years. A name he barely remembers but jerks him like a leash. What he was before Nikto.
“I love you,” you repeat once more in English. “Didn’t you know that?”
On his best day words are difficult. Right now, he can’t fathom what combination of syllables would explain to you the jumbled chaos in his head.
That you can’t love him, because he is a Thing of blood and bone and agony. That even if you could love him, he would be undeserving of it. Your voice rings in his head, church bells for a broken soul.
“No,” is all he rasps out.
You make a sad face. He feels like the lowest scum.
Then you’re scrambling out of your seatbelt, out of your seat. Climbing over the center console and into his lap. He doesn’t even feel it when your knee clips his ribs or the toe of your shoe hits his thigh. It’s nothing compared to the warm lapful of you he’s got peering down at him now.
“You know how I always remind you that you’re a person?” you ask.
He hesitates, then jerks his head in a nod. You mirror him, face so serious.
“Well you’re not just a person, you’re my person,” you explain. As if it’s so simple as spelling it out. “And I love you.”
“I do not…”
You wait for him to finish, but he can’t. He just squeezes his hands into helpless fists, unable to let himself touch you.
“Don’t what?” you murmur softly. “Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t love me back? I don’t care. I don’t love you to get something in return. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.”
You gently tug the topmost layer of his face coverings aside, drop a kiss to the tiniest sliver of skin visible beneath his eye.
“You’re my person and I’m your person,” you finish.
“Is that… what love is?” his voice is barely more than a scraped whisper. What little he remembers of people who used the word “love” towards him in the past made it seem like the blackest curse.
“That’s what our love is,” you answer easily. “Or can be, I suppose. You’re not required to feel the same way.”
He doesn’t think he does; what he feels for you is beyond that. Beyond, he suspects, what you might even have a word for.
“Again.”
Your face breaks out into a huge smile, lighting up the dark interior of the car.
“I love you, Nikto.” You press your palm to his heart and breathe softly in awe when you feel how his heart trips over itself for you. “Will you teach me to say it right?”
He leans his head back against the seat to take in the whole of you. Warm and comfortable and unafraid. Safe. (His…)
“Da. Repeat after me.”
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beingsuneone · 6 months
Text
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I BET You Think About Me
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SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape
GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.6K
WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.
A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine
DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.
CREDITS: n/a
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…Six Months Ago….
——————————————————————————
“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”
Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”
Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.
She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.
That might be because of her father.
“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”
“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”
…. One Month Ago ….
——————————————————————————
Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.
“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.
Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.
“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”
Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”
They all stare at him.
One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.
“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.
Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”
Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.
Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”
“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”
Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”
He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.
….Present….
——————————————————————————
Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.
When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.
Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.
In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.
“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.
She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.
“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.
You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”
She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”
“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.
She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.
You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”
“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”
What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.
She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”
She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.
She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”
This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”
She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”
Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”
Tracey, that’s her name.
I don’t think he likes her too much.
Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”
I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.
Jealous.
……
You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.
Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.
You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.
“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.
The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.
She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”
She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.
“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”
Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”
Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.
Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”
“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.
“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”
What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”
Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.
Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.
When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.
Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”
Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”
You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”
He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”
The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.
“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”
He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”
You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”
He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”
You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.
God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.
…..
You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.
He probably is.
He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.
You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.
You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.
As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.
You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.
A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.
“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”
He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”
He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”
“She doesn’t.”
Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.
You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.
Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.
You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”
“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.
Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”
He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”
You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.
Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.
He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”
His breath fans across your face.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.
“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”
He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.
“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.
“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.
“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”
Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.
He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”
You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”
He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.
You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”
Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”
“Okay.” You say softly.
He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”
You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.
But you wish he never had to stop.
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emmyrosee · 1 month
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*NOT A REQUEST* just a thought I desperately needed to share….. Sukuna definitely does not like ur friends like he says u should ditch them for him and like whenever you have to leave his house early cause u promised to meet ur friend somewhere for smth he’s getting all pouty and finds ways for u to stay LIKE HES JUST SO SOFT FOR U OMGGGG🥹🥹🫡
I mean was I not supposed to write a drabble? Physically impossible-
——
“Baby, I’ll be back so soon!”
“No, you won’t.”
Sukuna doesn’t like when you leave him. It’s not uncommon for him to throw a small fit when you tell him you have to leave, when you assure him you’ll come back to him at night and curl up in his side while you both go to sleep.
But when you have plans without him? And you’re not just leaving for errands?
He’s the world’s biggest baby.
Sukuna crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, “you’re going to be out with her all night, and I’m barely going to see you because the second you come home, you’ll be too tired! How is that fair!”
You click your tongue in adoration and make your way over to him, cupping his sharp jawline in your hands and kissing the tip of his nose, “I can’t just be all yours; sometimes, you have to share me.”
“I share you,” he snaps.
You giggle and shake your head, “you share me with choso and yuuji while youre buried in my neck- and as much as I adore it, I do unfortunately have to see other people too, honey.”
“Oh, so you don’t want me to want your company.”
“Kuna-“
“Oh no,” he begins dramatically, raising his hands in defense. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” He huffs and makes his way away from you and to the couch, knee bouncing wildly as he tries to hide the facade that he actually, immensely, cares that you’re leaving. “Just say you hate my affection and go.”
You snort and quickly follow him to the couch, curling up beside him, “I love your affection. You know that. But I promised her we’d grab dinner, okay?”
“No.”
“And I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Don’t care.”
“Can I have a kiss goodbye?”
“No.”
You toss your arm around his shoulder and press a wet kiss to his cheek, making sure to make it noisy and dramatic, pulling back with a sticky “mwah.” When you make a move to go back in, you quickly spider your fingers up his side, making him grunt and shimmy away.
“Literally hate you,” he hisses. You laugh again and follow his body, this time aiming your kiss for his lips and humming happily when he connects it.
He sighs against your lips, “bring me home a piece of chocolate cake.”
“Okay-“
“And text me every hour, or so help me-“
“I will, baby.”
“And no later than 9, that’s too late-“
“Okay dad. Anything else?”
He pulls a face at your words before rolling his eyes and leaning back in for a kiss, “be safe. I like you or something.”
You smile and nod happily, “I will, sukuna.”
“Promise?”
You extend your pinky out to him, watching fondly as he extends his own to lock with yours, and you each kiss the tip of your finger as if to seal the promise.
“I promise.”
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ragingbookdragon · 4 months
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(Wonderful render by @ave661 (if you've never seen her work, please go and check it all out!)
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It’s a rare moment where Simon is home for longer than two weeks and she’s excited and ready for it. She’s more so ready to hand him the baby and take a straight two-day vacation where she could pretend she’s a normal human being who’s only friend isn’t a babbling child. Now, Simon was a good dad, called every night when he wasn’t busy and read their child a bedtime story over the phone, took on the majority of housework and shopping when he was home, but raising a child while your husband was halfway around the world was hard. She didn’t take anything of what her husband did for granted; she knew how hard he worked when he was home, knew he was every bit as capable of being a parent as she was—and he was.
Shopping on New Year’s Eve was hectic anywhere and it took her at least three hours to finally get into the store, shop, and get home. As she stepped into the flat, she noticed how quiet it was, and for a moment assumed that maybe her husband had taken their daughter out while she was gone. But after setting the bags down in the kitchen, she stepped into the living room and paused, a soft smile coming across her lips as she caught sight of Simon lying on the couch, their daughter curled up underneath one arm.
She pulled her phone out, quietly snapping a photo, and walked over, gently sitting down next to his hips; Simon stirred at the difference in weight and cracked an eye open, looking over at her beneath his hood.
“Love?” he murmured, and he started to shift but she stopped him with a hand on her arm.
“You don’t have to get up, baby,” she calmed, and softly ran her hand through her daughter's hair. “Have you both slept all day?”
“Mhm,” he said, curled into his daughter. “She’s been tired since she got up at one.”
She watched them and rested her hand on Simon’s arm, rubbing it. “It’s a quarter to five, you hungry?”
He nodded and let out a sigh, starting to move again. “Yeah, lemme get up and cook.”
“No, no,” she shushed, and firmly laid her hand down. “I’ll fix dinner, you stay.”
“But I do dinner when I’m on leave, love. You always make dinner.”
She smiled. “Let me take care of my loves, okay, babe?”
Simon blinked, looked at her and laid his head back down. “Okay.”
Bending over, she nudged his hoodie up a bit to press her lips to his temple. “You’re a good husband and daddy, Simon,” she whispered. “I’m so thankful for everything you do for us.” She felt the way heat drew along his skin and she smiled against him. “My perfect Simon,” she added. “The best husband and an even better daddy.”
Simon shifted until his eyes weren’t visible beneath his hood. “Go away,” he muttered, but the small grin on his lips said otherwise.
“I love you too,” she snorted.
Before she could pull away and stand up fully, she was pulled back and his lips brushed her cheekbone. “I love you.”
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chrisevansonly · 1 month
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Big Spoon
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lando norris x female reader
summary: lando much prefers to be the big soon…and you don’t mind one bit
warnings: none very fluffy
a/n: after watching chickenshop i’ve been thinking about lando saying he’s big spoon🤭 also this is small but i wanted to get something out
Lando gave off a much more cocky and sarcastic personality to anyone who didn’t know him to his core, like you for example. To the world Lando was a jokester and full of witty and snappy comebacks, but to you he was just Lan, full of love and affection for you.
Another thing: Lando loved to cuddle.
It didn’t matter if he came in late from a race, or if it was the early hours of the morning after his workouts like right now, his favourite place was holding you in his arms, wrapped in the many duvets that lined your bed.
“Big or little?” you mumbled out sleepily to which Lando snorted
“Big always”
You couldn’t help the tired laugh that spilled from your lips at his quick shut down of your other cuddle option. He was quick to get into bed with you, pulling you against him and letting you get settled with your head on his chest: his fingers running up and down your back.
“You’re telling me you’ll never want to be little spoon baby?”
“Well I wouldn’t say never..”
You leaned your head back to look up at him with a teasing smile
“So if I begged to hold my little Lando Norris you’d let me?”
“Alright that’s enough out of you”
He said before smirking and pinching your side, eliciting a laugh from your lips that sounded like music to his ears, a smile on his face as he began to press kisses across your cheeks before finally pressing one to your lips.
“Hmm one day i’ll get you to be little spoon…just you wait..”
“Okay baby…whatever you say..”
It didn’t take much for you to be lulled back to sleep as the british driver shook his head, he knew you’d be persistant until he’d let you hold him for a change, but he’d do it for you. Lando would do anything for you, even if that meant letting himself be held instead of holding you.
The more Lando thought about it though…it didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.
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stevebabey · 8 months
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Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.
This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.
But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.
Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.
Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?
Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.
And by God, is he looking.
Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.
This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.
He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)
He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.
Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.
But it’s not even that.
Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.
But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.
Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—
“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”
Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.
“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”
Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”
Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.
“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”
Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.
“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”
He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.
It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.
Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.
He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.
Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.
Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.
Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.
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steddiealltheway · 6 months
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The upside down is colder than Steve remembers.
To be fair, he only wearing a vest, pants, and no shoes at the moment, and he may be actively bleeding out even with the bandages because of the damn bats but… he just doesn’t remember it being this cold.
He probably didn’t spend long enough in the tunnels to truly get a feel for things. But now that he’s fully here, he can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for Will.
The place is dark enough to even give Steve nightmares although he has Robin, Nancy, and Eddie at this side. How did Will survive with no one?
Steve looks down and carefully steps over a vine as he makes his way through the woods. Did Will ever step on-
“Is this a bad time to mention that I haven’t kissed anyone?”
Steve and the girls turn to Eddie, giving him looks of confusion at the random outburst.
Eddie keeps walking, staring at the ground as he tries not to activate the hive mind. “I’m just saying, it kind of feels like the end of the world here, and it makes you think. Like, do I really want to die a virgin? Not really, but dying without kissing anyone… I feel like that’s a bigger problem in my book.”
Robin and Nancy share the same look of confusion mixed with an air of why are you talking to us about this? But Steve thinks he gets the nervous rambling. He wouldn’t want to die unkissed either.
Eddie slowly stops and turns around, finally noticing that the three of them stopped when he made his first comment. He just stares at them for a moment before sighing, “Forget I said anything. I just hate walking in silence with all these thoughts of impending doom.”
With that, the girls start walking again, quickly catching up to Eddie, but Steve struggles as he thinks a little too hard about what Eddie said instead of thinking about not stepping on a vine. So he compromises speed for a very important thought.
Eddie wants to kiss someone. Probably. Definitely.
He can’t kiss Nancy because she’s with Jonathan, and Steve’s pretty sure Nancy would not be the greatest choice of a first kiss - since she would be unenthusiastic.
And Robin… well. She would be equally as unenthusiastic, probably even more so.
And really, everyone must be thinking the same thing. Because there’s one obvious solution.
“I’ll kiss you,” Steve announces as he steps over a vine. He watches as the three of them freeze in front of them, and Eddie almost even trips on a vine.
Once he catches up to them, Steve says, “It’s the clear solution to the problem.”
Robin shoots him a look of bewilderment and mouthes what??
Steve just looks away from her. It’s not a crazy thought really. Eddie wants to kiss someone before the world maybe ends, and Steve is just a really generous person who would like- enjoy- no, volunteer very very generously to help the good cause.
“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks.
And oh. Steve hadn’t really thought about how Eddie might not want to kiss him. Shit. He shakes his head. “I’m not kidding, but I wouldn’t do it unless you wanted to. And it’s okay that you don’t. Let’s just keep going.”
Eddie reaches out and grabs his arm. “I never said that I didn’t want to,” he says quickly.
Steve’s pretty sure he hears Robin snort at the comment, and he can sees Nancy trying to hide an amused smile behind her hand. He ignores them and puts his hands on his hips. “Alright.”
“Okay,” Eddie says.
They both stare at each other not moving.
“We’re going to give you some space,” Robin says, grabbing Nancy’s hand and pulling her deeper into the woods.
Steve doesn’t pay much attention to them as they walk away, he’s too busy staring at Eddie. And yeah, he’s a good looking guy. He knew that from high school whenever he would go on his rants, and Steve had an excuse to stare. And really the thought of kissing him is definitely not the worse and actually… he’s kind of looking forward to it, if the fast beating of his heart is any indication.
Eddie though, he looks… scared. Maybe just nervous. But his expression definitely isn’t in any way happy.
Steve takes a step toward him and softly says, “We don’t have to do this, okay? And it’s okay if you don’t want to.”
Eddie shakes his head and laughs humorlessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just… you’re Steve Harrington.”
“And?”
“And that name means something. And it shouldn’t be tangled up with my name.”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m pretty sure we already crossed that line a while ago.”
“But you know what I mean,” Eddie sighs, looking at the ground.
Yeah, he does know what he means. But… “The world might end. I think there are stranger things than you and me kissing.”
Eddie shakes his head. “I think that would be the most shocking thing out of all of this.”
“Then get ready for me to rock your world, Munson,” Steve says with a smirk, stepping closer and brushing a curly strand of hair out of his face.
Eddie takes a deep breath and settles his hands on Steve’s waist above the wounds he’s forgotten about. “Is this… okay?”
Steve nods and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Yeah. Is this?”
Eddie just hums mhm, his eyes get a little wider and his cheeks flush a deeper pink.
Steve can’t help but look over Eddie’s face, taking in what he looks like at the closer proximity when he’s allowed to look. His eyes wander down to where Eddie’s full lips are slightly parted as if they’re just waiting for him to kiss them. But Steve looks back into Eddie’s dark eyes, searching for hesitation but only sending nerves and anticipation.
“I like that you’re the same height as me,” Steve randomly blurts out.
“Why’s that?”
Steve feels a blush creep up his neck. “Because my neck won’t strain when I kiss you.” Eddie laughs, and Steve decides that if the world really is coming to an end, he should be fully honest. “Plus, it’s easier to look at your eyes when they’re at my level.”
Eddie’s grin turns into a soft smile. His eyes glance down at Steve’s lips.
He knows the moment has come. “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay,” Eddie says, leaning in closer.
Steve smiles before closing the distance between them and kissing Eddie slowly as if they have all the time in the world. He breaks the kiss and pulls back enough to take in Eddie's expression - eyebrow raised in astonishment, lips slightly parted, and eyes still closed.
And yeah, they might not make it to tomorrow, plus Eddie looks hot. So, Steve doesn’t pull away. Instead, he kisses him again, this time with much more fervor and… yes, tongue. Sue him. He just wants to make Eddie’s first (and second) kiss memorable.
Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back, pulling him closer as Steve slows the kiss, needing air. He pulls back and breathes in deep, staring at Eddie’s kiss swollen lips and feeling… many things.
But instead of giving into those feelings, Steve just pats Eddie on the arm and says, “See, you’re a natural.” As soon as he walks away, Steve wants one of the vines to drag him far far away so he doesn’t have to think about what he just said. Christ. He’s not smooth.
As soon as he catches up to Robin, she practically yanks him back so Eddie and Nancy can wander off out of earshot.
Steve crosses his arms and stares at her. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what this is about,” Robin says, jabbing a finger into his chest.
Steve winces. “Okay. Yes. I kissed Eddie. But what else was I supposed to do? Make you or Nance kiss him? No way.”
“You realize that he was just thinking out loud, right? You turned his thought into an invitation.”
Steve shrugs and walks toward the other two, trying to make sure they don’t go too far. “It sounded like an invitation to me,” he says with a shrug.
“I’m sure it did,” Robin mutters.
Steve turns to glare at her.
Robin sighs and lays a hand on his arm. “You can talk to me, you know? Even if you’re in the process of figuring things out and can’t get a true read of things.”
Steve turns and looks back at Eddie, noting how his heart beats a little faster and his body wants more than anything to get closer to him. He looks back and Robin and asks, “How obvious am I being?”
The tension in Robin’s shoulder goes away slightly at the question, and she smiles. “With the ‘you’re a natural’ comment? Totally fooled. No one would guess a thing.”
Steve’s jaw drops. “You were watching that?”
“How could I not? And do I regret it?” Robin pauses before answering her question, “A little when you started using tongue.”
“Jesus, Robin,” Steve says, trying to sound annoyed, but he can’t help but laugh.
Robin smiles and nudges him. “It seems like you have a type.”
Steve raises an eyebrow before he looks to where Robin is staring. He watches as Nancy and Eddie talk quietly about something, both sharing a small smile, amusement evident in their big round eyes, and dark, curly hair framing their faces. Maybe Robin has a point.
“Maybe I do,” Steve says as Eddie glances back at him and smiles. When he turns back, Steve asks Robin, “Do you think we could talk more about it when we’re not in an alternate dimension, and I have time to think about things?”
“Of course,” Robin says and squeezes his arm. “But for now, I’m going to give you things to think about!” she announces before running ahead to Nancy and quickly starting some type of hushed conversation.
Steve looks at where Eddie lingers behind the girls and quickly runs up to him, deciding maybe he can figure things out now. And maybe he can verbally thank him for saving his ass instead of just kissing him and hoping he gets the message.
Gosh, he doesn’t know if he can get through this without getting distracted by his lips. But he’s going to try.
(And he’s going to fail)
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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i'm a sucker for angst to fluff. what if parker's friends say some mean things ab your body but parker doesn't defend you. that night, you won't cuddle him, you won't even sleep in the same bed because you don't wanna disgust him... and peter has to make it up to you.
parker is a dunce!!! peter supremacy!
Peter had two sets of friend groups. 
The first one was the original one. Kids he grew up with, suffered through high school and flew into the freedom of college with him. The group you knew the most of, they were the closest to him and nearly the entire group became your friends too. Weekends spent smashing drinks and staying up too late before hitting up a diner for greasy burgers at four in the morning. 
Then the second group, which you did not know well, don’t know how Peter knows them and can’t fathom why Peter would entertain them. 
It’s split like this. 
With friend group A, he’s Peter.
With friend group B, he’s Parker. 
You don’t like Parker; not one bit. 
Parker can be stark, blunt, bold and cocky. 
It was the friend group, they made him believe he was one of them so sometimes he acted a little too much like them. It wasn’t ever too bad, just the stuff you know he normally wouldn’t feed into, he gorged. 
His friend, leader of the group, Nick, said it in passing. It’s not the first time you met, granted you try to spend as little time as possible with them but you also won’t give them the cold shoulder. The mutual understanding with friend group B is that you both are there for Peter’s sake, it just makes things easier. 
Nick threw his beer back, foam swirled to the top. His long arm extended to the seat next to him, his watch clicked against the chair top. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t bag someone with a better body, Parker.” A sharp wink is thrown at your boyfriend, and in response he snorted, “yeah, right.” 
It was sarcastic, you’ll give him that. But he didn’t give more, you waited for the ‘real funny, but don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.’ However, he just rubbed your shoulder and sent a small smile, almost like he was saying, ‘you know how it is.’ 
You didn’t miss the tiny curl of Nick’s lip when you shook Peter’s hand off your arm. 
If he couldn’t stand up to his friends over a shit comment then why would you let him put his hands on your body, knowing everyone thinks he could do better?
—------------------------------
Peter frowned when you pulled away from his grasp, he was going for a hug but you floated away. You were quiet on the ride back, not starting conversation but not letting it fail either. 
If Peter could describe your emotion right now it would be ‘fine.’ 
“C’mon, gimme a hug.” 
You cross your arms, “you sure you want your hands on me?” 
Peter reaches out and tries to pull one hand back with the other but his right hand breaks free and grabs you, “I can’t control them! They need you too much.” 
Sometimes it’s really, really hard to be upset with him. 
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you pull away, forcing yourself to stand up for yourself, if the situation was reversed you’d shut it down at the dinner table. Not smile sympathetically and give him an ‘oh well!’ 
“Want company?” 
Disappointment covers your features, “not really.” 
He wouldn’t stand up to defend the body he loves but he wants to be first in line to use it. 
“Oh. Okay, if you want I’ll make us some ice cream cones and set up a movie?” 
You shrug, “sure.” 
Peter knows what’s wrong but he views it as a boundary issue between his friends and him, not you. He knows what he needs to do but doesn’t want to involve you further. 
That message doubles down when you told him you would sleep on his couch tonight, he woke you up after the movie to take you to bed when you shrugged him off, “I’ll sleep here tonight,” that never happens, ever. 
“No, c’mon, I’ll carry you.” 
His hands slipped under your thigh when you rolled over, “if it wasn’t so late I’d be at home. Consider yourself lucky that I’m still here.” 
So, Peter presses a kiss to your temple with an “alright, honey. Goodnight, we can talk in the morning, okay?” 
When he walks away you mumble under your breath, “hope you dream about girls with better bodies.” He hears you, it takes everything in him to not bring you with him. 
—----------------------------------
Noise woke you up. 
The room was bright, sleeping in the living room left you exposed to nearly every window in the apartment. Peter’s room was dark and cool, if you were in there it could be well into mid morning before you rose. 
There was a blanket on you that wasn’t there last night, it’s one from Peter’s room, he keeps an extra by his bed for you. The sun peering in warmed up the room and you started to feel just a little too warm. 
You almost forgot why you were awake until you heard a cabinet shut loudly and a soft curse murmured from the kitchen. Peter was up early making breakfast, you know he feels largely guilty. It almost makes everything okay. 
It took heat swarming your face for you to pull the blanket away, the cool breeze from his ceiling fan felt really good. You yawn, then cough from a dry throat. 
“Baby?” 
You sniff, nothing more than a harsh breath, “morning.” Your voice croaks from the couch, you hear shuffling, steps get louder until you looked up at his face peering over you. 
“I slept like shit, how about you?” 
You stretch your arms over your head, “no complaints.” 
Peter recognizes you’re still mad. 
“Waffles or pancakes?” 
You grin, “french toast.” 
Peter leans over the back of the couch, his lips puckered. “Deal,” you push his chin away. “No kisses, you’re on time out.” 
He wanted to wait until after breakfast but he really can’t last that long without a kiss. 
“Okay, come here.” 
You got up and followed him, he grabbed his phone sitting on the counter and gestured to taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Peter unlocked his phone and tapped around, he handed it towards you, you looked at him confused before he wiggled it. “Take it, read it.” 
Taking his phone you looked down, it was blurry and you had to blink a few times. Peter busy with moving around the kitchen. 
A text thread between him and Nick. 
“hey man, I know you didn’t mean anything by it but you hurt some feelings by that comment tonight. From here on out no jokes on or about her, cool?” 
“Ah shit man, my bad. I didn’t mean to get you yelled at, no jokes about the lady in front of her from now on.” 
“I mean don’t joke about her, ever. It’s not cool to me, and it disrespects my girlfriend.” 
“Say less, I’ll tell the guys, no more jokes about parker’s girl.” 
“Appreciate it, man.” 
A small pout takes over your face, he texted it last night after you got home. If you can track it back it would’ve been around the time you were in the shower, unprompted he stuck up for you. 
Peter stood up for you, he had your back. 
You assumed he didn’t, but he just didn’t make a scene. He kept cool and calm until he was back at home, in regards to not embarrassing you or his friends and maybe damaging either relationship. 
You click your tongue, your boyfriend meets your eyes, he’s awaiting a response. 
“Well, now it’s hard to be mad.” 
“I will always defend your honor, sweetheart. Just because I don’t do it at that moment doesn’t mean I wont, okay? I love you and you are absolutely the hottest woman I could ever bag, alright?” 
You respond with countless kisses and cuddles, Peter needs to nearly peel you off his body so he can use the stove safely, but not one complaint utters from his lips. 
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bloodykora · 8 months
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I Meant It
I finally wrote an actual one shot for Buggy :)
Summary: You 'babysit' Buggy while he's only a head.
No use of y/n however reader is referred to gal and very feminine pet names (I normally write gender neutral but this was very self serving). I had to write this on my phone so if the format is different from my norm, that is why.
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“I think his nose is cute.” A voice breaks out for the first time in the conversation, the other two slowly turning towards you in shock and judgement.
“I beg your pardon sweet thing?” Sanji is the first to break the moment of silence, you raise your shoulders at him. 
“I don’t know, he's like. Okay, you know those cats who have a limb missing and they go to scratch with that limb and everyone’s like ‘awww’. That’s kinda how I think I am with him right now, look at him. He’s just a head, a little kitty who can’t scratch behind his ear and needs some help.”
“You seem to forget about the village he destroyed, the one that offered us the rest of their food after we saved them because of what him and his crew did.”
“Zoro, you out of everyone has no right to judge considering you took that random dude’s brother’s head.” You stare at the Buggy in front of us with a cloth in his mouth, watching this whole conversation about him go down.
“I do not need to be around this.” Zoro states before leaving, huffing to himself right before he goes out of ear shot. 
“I never knew you out of everyone would be into the clown type but then again, all women are a mystery.” A laugh comes out and you shake your head at Sanji’s words before replying.
“I think I just like them to be outgoing.” You slowly and dramatically look Sanji up and down before connecting gazes with him. 
Before he has the chance to respond, a loud bang erupts from a part of the ship which catches both of your attention. Sanji sighs before looking at me.
“Things can never be calm around here can they?” A smile appears on your face as you nod.
“You go check that out, I think Zoro has had enough of me today, I’ll stay here with him.” You cock your head to the side, pointing at Buggy. Sanji nods and begins to walk away.
“Be safe sweets, holler if you need anything.” He looks back to say before continuing on. 
You look back at the clown, his eyes wide watching. Taking a few steps in his direction, nearing him before bending down to him.
“Don’t make me regret this.” You quietly say out before gently removing the gag in his mouth.
“Ahh toots, that feels so much better." He states while stretching his mouth and licking his lips.
“You have no idea how dry my mouth was getting, I was almost debating having a sip of sea water!” You roll my eyes before sitting beside the barrel he was on.
“I think that would not be beneficial cause then you’d have the opposite problem of having too much water.” You pause for a second before questioning. “Can you drown? I mean like now, as just a head? You have no lungs attached to you currently.”
“I’ve never tried, I would assume yes though.”
“Well, don’t do it then. I wouldn’t wanna have to be the one to save you, or maybe I’d send Sanji to do it for me.” 
“That blondie would let me die, I’d be a lot better, mentally and physically, if it was you.” He winks at you.
“Mmm, I think anyone of us would do it begrudgingly. For Nami.” He huffs beside you, it was a little funny as just a head. You could imagine his body’s chest moving along with it.
“What is with you and that cook anyway? It’s like you two wanna jump each other, I say just get a room and do it for the sake of me and the crew.” A snort comes out at his words.
“Buggy, I don’t think Sanji is actually attracted to me. Yes, he is good looking. However, he flirts with every woman he sees. In front of me too. Ya know, you two kinda remind me of each other in that regard.”
“Oh darling, I would treat you so much better than he ever could.” His words are filled with honey, sweet and dripping. You look at him, face in a ‘really?’ gaze.
“I don’t know, he is French. And you know there is a kiss named after them.” He scoffs at the retort.
“My head detaches, do I have to say more?” 
Your face drops in realization and your cheeks begin to heat up at his words.
“Slut.” The word flew out of your mouth before you could process it. He sits expressionless before breaking into laughter. Your hand raises to your forehead, half covering your face as you laugh. 
“I never admitted this but I think I like spending time with you more than Zoro.”
“I don’t know, it’s hard to compare his death threats to your sugary laugh.” He flirts again, 
You shake your head at his faux forwardness.
“If you do that again I’m going to flick your ear I swear to god.” He grins ear to ear like a cat luring in its prey, his face then slowly rests like he was actually thinking for once.
“Earlier, you called my nose cute.”
“Yes I did.”
“Did you actually mean it or were you poking fun like the others?” I glance at him, his tone serious and his eyes almost pleading.
“I meant it.” It’s silent, for the first time ever since you've met Buggy. It seems he takes a breath before speaking up.
"You know, you'd be a good second in command. I could pay you handsomely, far more than these schmucks are." 
"They aren't really paying me." His eyes bulge out a bit at the answer. 
"You won't realize it yet, considering how they have treated you however," You pause, choosing your words carefully. "They are the closest thing to family I have gotten in forever, meanwhile your crew feared you. That is all the swaying I need." 
"Its cause that Sanji is taller than me isn't it?" You scoff and crack up at his wit. Laughing to the point of your shoulders visibly shaking. 
"Oh yes, that is absolutely it." You respond teasing, laughter still in your voice. He shakes his head in disappointment. The pair of you continue to stare out as the sun goes down over the horizon, the warm orange creeping into an umber and then its usual royal blue. The stars peering down at the pair. 
"I think it might be time to head in." You say out loud, mostly to yourself while your hands rub over your arms to retain some heat. You could hear the buzzing begin of the mosquitos. 
"What doll, can't handle a little breeze?" You shake your head, you could begin to feel the tip of your fingers cool. 
"I've never been good with night time on the water." Buggy sighs beside me as I sit up.
"Let's head in then." He looks up at you, a small smile on his face. You pick him up, avoiding uncomfortable placement of your hands or a tight grip. His skin was warmer then expected, that was the stereotype though. The men being hot blood and bodied creatures.
"Where am I staying tonight? Barrel, in a window, random box?" 
"I think you're gonna stay with me." Buggy's eyebrows furrow in confusion. You begin to walk quickly to your small corner of the ship, descending down a small flight of stairs. The blue haired head clutched in your arms almost like the way you'd hold a newborn. 
The blue cot you were well acquainted with was already strung up, ready for you to rest in. You put Buggy up there in it before talking up to him. 
"I'm changing so don't try anything okay?" The jester was already too shocked and flustered to speak. Making a mental promise to himself not to break your trust. 
You take a bit of time before he sees your arms come over the side and lift yourself into the hammock. 
You settle yourself, pulling up the blanket that laid at the end over mostly you.
There's a few thuds down the stairs before Sanji appears before you both. 
"Ahh, just the gal I was looking for. How did babysitting go?" He asks, putting an arm over the side of the bed. Standing on a piece of board under you to boost himself up. 
"Still here cook boy." Buggy's voice bellows out, you smile at the cook while he gives you a confused glance. 
"I got worried that the mosquitos will affect his brain and stuff." You put on your best innocent smile and Sanji shakes his head. 
"You are the most mad pirate I think I've ever laid my eyes on." He gets a shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes back. 
"So, what was it that happened earlier?" You lean up to peer over the side at him. His face was always a comfort even when it felt the most safe. 
"Apparently Usopp knocked something over and then Luffy couldn't remember if it was Nami's or something else. You know him, if its not food related then he's not fully paying attention." You nod, agreeing with the blond. Sanji leans in close to you, looking over your shoulder at the head eavesdropping. 
"Are you going to be okay with him? Cause you know I can very much find a different spot for him." He says in a hushed tone to you, a small smile appears on your face. 
"I'll be okay Sanji, he's just a head. The most he could do is bite me and I think I'd wake up before he could cause real damage. However, if anything goes sour. You will be the first one I call to come help." You place your hand on his shoulder, rubbing it quickly before putting it back under the blanket. Sanji nods at you before he steps down. 
"Well sweet, you have a goodnight. Don't dream of me too much okay?" You wave to him and wish him a good night. 
"God he's annoying." Buggy says as you cuddle into your bed, eyes closed in a peaceful manner.
"Just look at it like this, you're in my bed. He's not." That shuts him up fast, you peek an eye open at him. He seems speechless and you let out a quiet giggle. 
"Please do tell me if you snore."
"I should be saying that to you, you can roll over or move. I'm just stuck here." 
You let out a mhmm, the luring sleepiness now very present in your body and brain. Buggy stares at you, blanket tucked up to your chin and face relaxed. 
He laid there and listened to you breathe for a bit. Making sure you were well into your slumber before muttering out. 
"Sleep well love."
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btssavedmylifeblr · 9 days
Text
Void - Part 9 - Tuesday (M)
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title banner by @rude–jude♡
Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut
Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)
Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.
Word Count: 5.7k
Part 9 / ?
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Warnings: explicit sexual content, entirely too much discussion about semen, some jealousy, possessiveness and slut-shaming, semi-accidental voyeurism
__________
A rush of cold air against your sweaty skin makes you shiver. It’s much cooler out here in the hallway than in the steamy sleep pod behind you. You leave Jungkook behind in the sleep pod, still getting his clothes back on, but your lingering arousal stays with you. 
You’ve barely made it two steps into the hallway when the door across from you opens. Jimin leans against the door frame. Damn, he looks good. He has the sleeves of his dark blue jumpsuit tied around his waist, leaving him in just a loose white t-shirt that rides up his arms as he crosses them. 
“Well, good morning to you,” he says. “And what have you been up to this morning?” The smirk on his face makes it clear he knows damn well what you’ve been up to this morning. 
“Umm…” You wiggle your hips in discomfort, the remnants of Jungkook sliding between your thighs. 
Mercifully, Jimin doesn’t actually make you tell him what you’ve been up to. “Do you have a minute to talk?” he asks, beckoning you to join him in his pod. 
Lord, you really don’t want to have an awkward relationship conversation with Jimin with Jungkook’s semen still inside you. You try to brush him off. “I have a lot of work to do this morning, Jimin.”
He snorts. “Seems like you’ve already gotten a lot done.” He lets the statement hang there as he smirks at you again. It’s very annoying how hot he is right now. 
The click of the door latch behind you startles you into action. The last thing you want is to be trapped in this narrow hallway with both Jimin and Jungkook. “Yeah, okay,” you say, diving into Jimin’s pod before Jungkook sees you. 
“So should I plan on waking up to the sound of you fucking other men every morning or only on Tuesdays?” Jimin asks as he closes the door.
“Well, not on Thursdays.” You are trying to flirtatiously deflect, but irritation flashes across Jimin’s face.
“Yes, well,” he mutters. “I guess I’ll just wait my turn.”
“Hey, you suggested sharing first,” you reply defensively. 
“With one man, not six.”
“Why does the number matter?” You’re already carving yourself into pieces to make them all happy, why did it matter how many? “You’ll still get your turn.”
“Bah!”Jimin stomps his foot in frustration. “I’m not some toddler who is bad at sharing a toy! I don’t want to have you just because it’s my turn.” He almost reaches for you again, but drops his hands in defeat. “I want you to want me.”
You sigh. “I do want you, Jimin.” Even first thing in the morning, with his dark hair falling loosely over his forehead, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. How can you explain that you are genuinely and specifically attracted to all of your crew members without sounding like a floozy? “I’ve wanted you ever since I watched that damn video of yours. And long before that too.”
“Really?” He bites his plush lower lip. “How long?”
You fold your arms and lean back against the other side of the pod. Memories come back to you of your space walk training at the bottom of the ICSE pool. Jimin always hated the overly warm training suits and would strip out of them long before reaching the men’s locker room. His sweaty t-shirts would stick to his skin, slightly translucent. It was impossible to keep your eyes off him as he’d laugh with the other guys and brush his hair back off his forehead, indifferent to your presence.  “Longer than you’ve wanted me,” you finally answer.
His eyes widen in surprise. “On Earth?” he asks. 
You nod. You chastise your past self for ever thinking that your insatiable thirsting for your crew wouldn’t become a problem eventually.
“Shit.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I had no idea.” He steps closer to you. “You were always so closed off.”
“Well, I’m not supposed to want you. Wanting you is highly inconvenient.”
He smiles as he leans in. “But you just can’t help yourself?” He glances down to your lips.
“Oh, don’t look so smug.” You push against his chest as his hands find their way around your waist. 
“I’m allowed to be smug.” He rests his forehead against yours. “The hottest woman in the universe wants me.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m the only woman in your—“
But his lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, one hand gripping your waist as the other finds its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 
All your arousal that had been simmering just below the surface comes rushing back as his fingers caress your neck and along your jaw. His lips are just the right balance of soft and firm. You moan as he breaks away from your lips to begin kissing down the side of your neck. 
“But then how can you only want me on Thursdays?” he asks between kisses. “I want you every day. Mondays. Tuesdays. Wednesdays. All the time. God, I haven’t even bothered to remember what day of the week it is for the last two years and now it’s all I can think about.”
“I obviously don’t only want you on Thursdays.” You gasp as his hand finds your breast over your jumpsuit, closer to the surface then it would normally be since you abandoned your shirt with Jungkook. “I’m just trying to be fair.”
“Fairness is overrated.” He sucks on the junction of your neck and collarbone as you tilt your head back to give him more access. “Shit, are you not wearing a shirt?”
His hand is on your zipper before you can answer, tugging it down to discover the answer for himself. “Good lord,” he mutters, hands caressing your bare sides and breasts. “Where is your shirt?”
“I’m having a bit of a laundry problem.” You run your fingers through his hair, holding tight as he peels down your bra and runs his tongue across your nipple. “Somehow all my clothes are covered in cum.”
He groans out loud at that, sinking to his knees as he kisses down your belly, following the opening in your jumpsuit. “Shit, really? Jungkook?” And then he pauses and looks up at you. “What did he do?”
“You really want to know?” You ask and Jimin nods. You laugh. “It’s more what I did to him.”
“Tell me,” he urges. “And take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your zipper. 
“Made him beg.” You shrug out of the jumpsuit, in your bra and panties once again. Your panties stick to you where Jungkook’s remnants have merged with your own arousal. Jimin’s eyes are glued to them. “Rode him until he came inside me.” 
Jimin licks his lips and looks up at you. “Can I see?”
You tilt your head curiously. “That doesn’t bother you?”
He laughs a little, shaking his head. “Maybe it will later, but right now, it’s just super hot.”
A whole new rush of heat runs through you as you slide your panties down. This is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done. One man kneeling rapturously in front of you to see you covered in the release of someone else. It’s debauched and it’s glorious. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if you should stop this and wait for Jimin’s assigned day, but your logical brain vacated its post the moment Jimin knelt in front of you. 
“You do like being messy, don’t you?” He runs a careful finger along your labia and your legs tremble. “Doesn’t matter whose cum it is, does it?”
“Fuck, Jimin, please.” You tug on his hair, needing him to do something, anything. 
He gathers a glob on his finger before flicking it to the floor. He stands up and kisses you again, the hand sticky with cum now caressing your cheek. It’s both tender and filthy. And then he’s turning you around to face the wall of the pod. “Bend over.”
Your legs are trembling so hard you have to cling to the wall, but you allow him to guide you down so you’re bent at ninety degrees, hands on the wall, ass out. You hear him strip out of his clothes and then a finger slips inside you. 
“God, you’re so wet.” His hands grip your hips as he replaces his finger with his cock. “How many times did he get you off?”
Jimin eases his way into you and the tenderness makes you groan. “He didn’t,” you pant. 
“Amateur,’ Jimin scoffs. He reaches around to your front and finds your sensitive clit. The trembling in your legs gets stronger as he begins rolling his hips. 
“He wanted to,” you gasp. “Didn’t let him.”
“Don’t even care about your own pleasure, huh? Just want to take all the cock you can?” He pairs the teasing with a firm pressure from both inside and out and you’re shattering around him, unable to deny how much it turns you on to be used by them all. 
You hear the smile in Jimin’s voice, how proud he is of himself, as he tightens his grip on your hips and speeds up his pace.  
“You’re mine now though. You were mine first and you’ll always be mine. Whenever any of them fuck you, I’ll fuck them out of you. Replace them with me. The only cum you’ll be carrying around inside you is mine.” 
He stills, leans over to kiss your back and neck as he fills you up. You can feel his self-satisfied grin against the skin of your back. 
He slides out of you, patting your ass as he goes. Your whole body flushes as yet more cum leaks from you. God, you’re a mess. He kneels down behind you and picks up your panties, sliding them back up your legs. 
“That’s better,” he says as he slides them up and over your ass, trapping his cum against you.  
“Uh, thanks,” you reply, completely at a loss for what to say as a weird cold feeling begins churning in your stomach. You have the sudden worry that Jimin is going to expect every day to go like this, even those that aren’t his. “Gonna go clean up now.”
Jimin grins and kisses your cheek. “See you soon,” he whispers. 
______________
And so you find yourself once again attempting to de-sperm yourself in the space toilets. Another tinge of doubt washes over you as you stare at the flimsy compostable toilet paper and contemplate trying to do this every day for the next 12 years. Is that what you’ve committed yourself to? Multiple times a day? Multiple men per day? Surely they will grow bored of you eventually, right? This falls way outside your mission parameters. Maybe you should call this whole thing off.
Despite your best efforts with the toilet paper, you’re still gross and sticky. Your jumpsuit and underwear are gross and sticky too. There’s nothing for it. You need a shower and some clean clothes. 
Showers weren’t an everyday luxury on the Minos. You could only manage once or twice a week without outpacing the water reclamation system. Technically you weren’t due for another day or two, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 
The showers and the laundry machines sit in the same section of the ship near the water tanks. Before heading there, you jog back to your sleep pod to gather up the rest of your dirty laundry. Jungkook is long gone. Your shirt/make-shift blindfold lies thrown in a corner. As you gather up your scattered clothes, the stink of your laundry makes another way of regret wash over you. You were only one and half days into your new plan and all your clothes are covered in bodily fluids. This is exhausting. 
The laundry machines and showers also happen to sit right next to Yoongi’s workshop and you can’t help wondering about him as you walk in that direction. You haven’t seen him since your striptease in the kitchen.
“Okay, I’m in,” he had sent you. It betrayed so very little of what he’s thinking. And the question of what exactly he wants from you is still unanswered. But at least he has admitted to wanting you. Your stride slows as you pass his workshop, scanning with your peripheral vision while trying to look like you aren’t checking to see if he’s in there. 
But the workshop is dark and empty. Whatever his feelings for you, they will remain a mystery for now. 
God, what is the matter with you? You’ve already fucked two men this morning and here you are pining for a third. That can’t be normal, can it? The ICSE really fucked up when they decided to send the world’s horniest woman on this mission. 
You continue to chastise yourself as you load your laundry into the machines.  The laundry machines sit in a vestibule just outside the showers with a door to the hallway that locks, so you are able to strip off the clothes you are wearing now as well and run them through the laundry while you shower. Removing your wet underwear makes you cringe. How have you managed to go from “first woman to pass the orbit of Mars” to “woman with two different men’s semen in her underwear”?
You’re so preoccupied with your self-slut-shaming that you don’t hear the water running behind the shower door. The door was unlocked and there weren’t any clothes in the machines, so you just assumed the shower was empty. But you are wrong.
Flight Engineer Min Yoongi is standing in the shower completely naked and dripping wet. His back is to you as he washes his face. His long dark hair runs down over his shoulders. When did his hair get so long?
He doesn’t see you, face still covered in soap, but turns his head as the door clicks open. “Hey! Occupied!” he calls out. 
“Oh shit!” you curse, backing up. Shit. You’re naked too. Shit. All your clothes are in the washing machine and must be soaking wet by now. You attempt to cover yourself with your hands as you debate how to get out of here.
“Oh, is that you, Officer?” he chuckles, wiping the soap and water from his eyes before turning to greet you, smirk on his face. “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you until Friday. Come to get a sneak peek?”
Your face is on fire, you are so embarrassed. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
He looks totally calm, running his gaze up and down you luxuriously. “No worries. We are in a ‘consensual sexual relationship’ now, aren’t we? Or should I be hiding my dick from you Saturday to Thursday?”
His demeanor is infuriating and you feel so foolish. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”
He shrugs. “Tuesdays are my shower day. No one is ever here but me.” He looks you up and down again and there is really no hiding anything from him. “The real question is what are you doing here?”
Shit. How do you get out of this conversation? “I, umm, needed a shower.”
He laughs, turns off the water and shakes his head, long hair sending drops of water flying around the sealed room. “You know this plan of yours is gonna fuck with our whole shower schedule, right?” 
It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying as he wraps his hand around his hair and pulls it up into a bun behind his head.
“When did your hair get so long?” Your voice is higher pitched than normal and you grimace.
“Oh yeah…” He tucks one of the shorter loose strands behind his ear. “It’s been getting in my way. I was going to ask if you might have time to cut it on Friday.” He pulls a towel from the wall behind him and wraps it around his waist. 
“Oh, no, no, no…” you rush out, heart skipping a beat at the allusion to your day with him.
“Oh.” He frowns. “Okay. That’s fine.”
“No, I just mean, don’t cut it.” You giggle nervously. “I just mean, uh, it looks good. As is.”
“Aha.” He grins and you watch a water drop glide from his jaw down his throat. “Well, in that case, I imagine there are more enjoyable things we could be doing…” He walks closer, and reaches toward you as your heart races. You close your eyes and give up trying to  cover yourself as his warm wet body comes right into your personal space. “On Friday,” he finishes, reaching the door handle behind you and popping it open. 
God, you hate him. “Um, yeah, sounds good,” you mutter as you dive out of his way. 
“Looking forward to it,” he replies, eyes dark with intention, before heading out the door. “Enjoy your shower, Officer.”
______________
A shower has you feeling much more like yourself again. But when you get to the kitchen for breakfast, you nearly walk right back out when you see who’s gathered around the table. 
Jin, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung are all sitting at the table, munching on their breakfasts. The prospect of sitting next to three different men you’ve watched orgasm in the last 24 hours makes the idea of eating feel entirely impossible. Not to mention the very hot man you are just pretending to sleep with. How has your life gotten this messy?
You are about to flee down the hallway when Jin looks up and makes direct eye contact with you. 
“Good morning!” Jin greets you and suddenly all four men’s eyes are on you. “Come sit with us!” He pats the chair next to him. “Taehyung made scorched rice.” 
Your brain helpfully chooses this moment to remind you that the last time you saw Jin, you came on his face. 
Taehyung nods enthusiastically and mumbles through a mouthful of rice. “There’s plenty left.” He swallows and gestures to the pot on the cooktop. 
Jungkook springs up from his seat. “I’ll get you some!” He pulls out the chair between him and Jimin, not the one Jin was suggesting. “Have a seat.” 
“Oh, uh, thanks, but I need some coffee too.”
“I’ll get it!” Jimin pops up too. “You rest.” He also clearly gestures at the seat that would put you next to him and Jungkook. Jin frowns slightly, while Taehyung bites back a laugh. 
“Oh, okay…” You run out of objections and sit down at the table while Jungkook and Jimin run to bring you breakfast. “This really isn’t necessary,” you mumble, but they’re not listening. 
Jungkook returns first with a bowl of stew and a plate of scorched rice for you and then sits down next to you. The memory of him on his knees begging to touch you flashes across your mind.
You take a bite of your food as the other men at the table resume eating. Jimin returns a minute later with your coffee. You take a sip and grimace at the too sweet concoction. Jimin still doesn't know how you take your coffee.
“Something wrong?” Jimin asks. 
You swallow it down. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.”
There’s a few moments of silence while everyone eats, before Jin nudges Jungkook with his elbow. “Seems like someone got a pretty early start this morning, huh?” he says teasingly.
“Jin!” you gasp as Jungkook chokes on his food. “You can’t just say things like that!” You pat Jungkook on the back to make sure he doesn’t die. 
“What?” Jin shrugs. “Isn’t everything supposed to be out in the open now?”
“Mmm,” Taehyung nods, hiding his mouth behind his hand as he laughs. “Like the bonobos.”
“Fucking bonobos.” Jimin groans. 
“It seems more awkward not to talk about it.” Jin continues. “We all heard him in there. Why pretend otherwise?”
Jungkook finally manages to swallow. “You heard us?”
“The walls aren’t thick,” Jin laughs. “Impressive that you can go two rounds that early in the morning. Ah, to be young.”
“Two rounds?” Jungkook frowns in confusion. Your entire face feels like it will melt off. Jimin says nothing, but his hand finds your knee under the table next to him and squeezes it.
“Speaking of,” Taehyung interrupts. “Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”
“We can take you on dates?” Jungkook asks.
“Um yeah, sure.” You answer both questions at once. “Though it’s not like there’s really anywhere to go.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” Taehyung nods smugly. 
“Can I take you on a date today?” Jungkook interjects. “Or do you only get one shot per day?”
“Uh… I don’t know. I didn’t really make rules that specific.”
Jimin’s thumb traces small circles around your knee and it’s a reminder that you’re not really sticking to even the limited rules you set out in the first place. Seven men is entirely too many men.
The conversation is mercifully interrupted by a shipwide message on your tablets. It’s from the commander. 
“A reminder to all crew members that any activities of an intimate nature are to be conducted in the privacy of the sleep pods. They are not appropriate for the public areas of the ship, which are monitored and recorded.”
The choice to put this in a written communication rather than an in-person conversation is surprisingly passive aggressive for Namjoon.
Taehyung looks at you. “What did you do?”
“She took all her clothes off in the kitchen!” Jin laughs.
“Excuse you! I covered the camera! You’re the one who ran me ass-first into our commanding officer!”
Jin sighs in delight. “Man, you should have seen his face.”
Jimin’s hand slides further up your leg and you’ve had enough. “Thank you all so much for breakfast, but Hoseok must need me in the lab by now.” You gather the remainder of your breakfast into your arms and back out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.” You’re not even sure which man you’re talking to. All of them really. There’s no escape. You will see all of them later. 
____________
For all your attraction to Hoseok and disappointment that he hasn’t signed your form yet, at the moment, you are a bit relieved. Hoseok puts on another science podcast and the two of you settle into your work for the day, safe in the knowledge that no one will come to proposition you. 
Or so you think until the end of the day, when Jungkook shows up at the lab door with a large plastic storage bin under one arm. Hoseok spots him first. 
“Hey, JK, what’s up?” he asks. “Do you have more samples for us?” He gestures to the box under Jungkook’s arm. 
“Oh, no.” Jungkook swallows, glancing down at the box. “It’s actually food.”
“Food?” Hoseok asks.
Jungkook steps farther into the lab. “I was hoping to treat our biologist to a dinner date.”
“Oh!” You and Hoseok are surprised in unison. 
“So you two are dating now?” Hoseok asks, looking back and forth between the two of you with raised eyebrows. “I thought this whole thing was just...” 
He trails off without saying the rest of the thought out loud and a frown line appears between his eyebrows.
“I’m not really clear on myself.” Jungkook takes this as an invitation to put the bin down on the lab counter and turn to you. “What are the rules exactly? Are we dating? Are we dating all the time or only on Tuesdays? Is it time-bound and when does it end? Does it end at midnight or can we fall asleep together? Can I hold your hand? Can I kiss you? Can I only kiss you on Tuesdays?”
Hoseok’s frown deepens and you rush to cut off Jungkook’s torrent of questions. “It’s not dating,” you try to explain. “We’re not…It’s not a relationship. I’m just trying to help people fill the void of what they’re missing from Earth. Like if they miss dates, we can have dates.”
“But it doesn’t mean anything?” Hoseok asks and you are totally stumped for what he wants the answer to that question to be. “You’re just pretending to be together one day a week?”  
“It’s not personal…” you reply, glancing back and forth between the two men, unsure which one you should be reassuring right now. 
But how could it be personal when you’re the only option? Like obviously they wouldn’t be choosing to date you on Earth. None of them chose you at all. They just miss sex and relationships and you can help them with that. But you can’t let yourself pretend it’s real. Or that it’s about you. 
“Nevermind.” Hoseok begins packing up his stuff. “It’s none of my business. I’ll leave you to your date.” The word “date” has a sarcastic bite to it that is unusual to hear in Hoseok’s voice. The temperature of the room seems to drop as he slings his supply bag over his shoulder and leaves. 
Jungkook turns away from you and busies himself unpacking food from his box onto the counter. His shoulders are a bit slumped and you really wish you could have talked to him alone. “It’s nothing fancy,” he mutters. “Just some sandwiches and drinks.”
You walk over and rest your hand on his shoulder. “That’s really thoughtful, Jungkook, thank you.” He freezes for a moment when you rest your hand on his back, then sighs and leans into your touch. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you rub his back. He tilts his neck back and forth and groans in a pleased way. “We can hold hands. If you want. And you can kiss me.”
That’s all the greenlight Jungkook needs as he spins around and pulls you into his arms, He gives you a hungry kiss, then pulls back. “God, I would love you seven days a week if you’d let me.” 
“I know, Jungkook.” A real tinge of sadness creeps into the edges of your mind. You can imagine a world in which it’s just you and Jungkook, passing the time to Europa in an endless string of orgasms and increasingly athletic sexual positions on every surface of the ship as he finds new ways to get you off. You hear Yoongi’s voice chastising you again. Nobody actually gets what they want.
But your regrets quickly melt away the more you kiss him. His kisses are full of fire and desperation. If anything, he seems even more eager than he was this morning. The memory of him kneeling before you, begging to be inside you, is intoxicating.
“I owe you an orgasm,” he murmurs between kisses. 
You can get on board with that plan. “Maybe we skip dinner,” you say as you start steering him toward the door. 
He finds your zipper. “Aww, but I worked so hard. I can get you off and we can still have time for dinner.”
Your hand stops his from pulling down the zipper any further. “Jungkook, this is the lab.”
“So?” Jungkook is too focused on running his hands up and down your hips and ass over your clothes.
“So…” you grab his hands to get his focus back on your face. “Namjoon said sleep pods only.”
There is more to it than that. Something about the lab feels particularly like a betrayal. But it’s hard to put into words. 
“Oh come on, he just doesn’t want us on the cameras.” He starts guiding you by your hips toward the lab bench in the corner next to the door. “But I know where all the camera blindspots are.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just let me show you.”  Continuing to kiss you, he slowly backs you up into the wall just to the right of the door. He leans his forearms on the wall above you, caging you against the wall in between the door and the lab counter. “Pull out your tablet,” he commands.
The camera feed of the lab visible on your tablet appears to show an empty room. “See,” he says, kissing your neck. “No one here. Nothing to see.”
He picks you up and sets your ass on the edge of the lab bench. You like being manhandled by him more than you care to admit. He wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. “And this gets you to just the right height…” And then he’s dropping to his knees again. 
“I don’t know…” Your position up on the counter allows you to see out the window in the center of the lab door and out into the hallway. “What if someone sees us?” You want to sound concerned, but honestly the idea has you squeezing your legs together enthusiastically at the risk. 
“They can’t see us from the main hall. They’d have to be coming into the lab.” Jungkook’s hand cups your jaw and turns your face back down to him. “Watch me.” 
God, he’s so hot. Muscular hands and large eyes fixed entirely on you. 
“Okay, okay, but be quick about it.” You shuck your jumpsuit and underwear down your legs. 
“Yes, Ma’am.” He starts tracing little circles with his fingers up one thigh and trailing soft kisses up the other. “You remember when you were cutting my hair?”
“Yes….” you groan as his fingers reach the very top of your thigh, just short of where you really want them.
“And you were pulling my hair and using it to get my head in just the right position?”
You nod, ability to speak temporarily suspended as his mouth reaches the tender skin where your thigh meets your hip. 
“Well this is all I’ve been dreaming about since then. So feel free to hold on.” He scoots even closer on his knees, resting your legs on his shoulders and guiding your hands to his hair. 
You weave your hands through his soft dark hair and he groans. Arousal floods through you at the sound, your body responding in kind to how turned on he is. And then he dives in. 
He starts slow, but firm, no hesitation. Long slow strokes of his tongue around your clit, holding a steady rhythm. 
“Fuck,” you gasp. “How are you perfect at this too?”
He chuckles, so self-satisfied. “I’m a fast learner. Now will you relax and stop thinking?”
And you give yourself permission to let your guard down. To close your eyes. To relax into the sensations, the pleasure, the slow steady build. You’re so wet and open you barely notice when he slides a finger inside you, but you do jolt forward when he matches that steady pressure on your clit with internal pressure from his finger. It’s so good, you moan out loud and grip his head tighter.
Your eyes remain tightly shut, but you can hear his grin as he groans. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” The pride in his voice, the pleasure, it’s irresistible. 
And the pleasure builds and builds until it is overwhelming, almost beyond what you can tolerate, hands clenched in his hair for dear life, unsure if you’re trying to pull him off or press him in further. But the stubborn man holds his position, even as your hips buck against his face. “Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…” 
And you’re breaking, shattering into pieces under his tongue and clenching hard around his fingers. 
“Ugh…” you groan, leaning your head back on the lab cabinet behind you. Your breathing slows as you calm down, fingers still tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you open your eyes. 
There’s a face in front of yours when you open your eyes. His eyes are so dark that it takes you longer than it should to realize that they're not Jungkook’s eyes. Jungkook is still down on his knees as you process that the other man is standing in the hallway, watching you through the window. 
“Shit,” you gasp, yanking Jungkook away from you. “Hoseok…”
How long has he been there? How much did he see? Was he watching you? His gaze flicks up from where he’s been staring at the connection between you and Jungkook and meets your eyes. The intensity there is so overwhelming that it’s hard for you to make sense of it. Is it anger? Lust? Disgust? Then his eyes go wide as he realizes you see him and he disappears from view.
“Not exactly the name I was hoping you’d yell when you climaxed on my face…” Jungkook grumbles as he stands up and wipes his face on the sleeve of his jumpsuit. 
“Shit, sorry,” You reply as you frantically fight to get your clothes back on. “He was here, he saw us. I have to go.”
“But…” Jungkook gestures across the lab. “I brought dinner.”
“Sorry,” is all you can manage before you race out into the hallway. 
“Hoseok!” you yell as you run down the corridor. “Hoseok, come back!”
He’s not in the kitchen. He’s not on the bridge. “Officer Jung, report your location,” you try on your radio, but receive only silence. 
You are panting by the time you reach the sleep pods. The door to his is closed. “Hoseok!” you shout as you bang on the door. “Hoseok!”
You hear shuffling around inside the sleep pod and know he’s in there. “Hoseok!” you yell, almost on the verge of tears. “Hoseok, please talk to me.” 
The door opens just a crack, not enough to see him. “Please, Hoseok, I need to talk to you,” you plead. 
“I… I… can’t.” he stammers. “I can’t right now. Please. Just… just go away.”
Your stomach is full of lead as you shuffle into your own sleep pod next door and rest your head and arms against the wall, desperately trying to catch your breath. 
He hates you. You disgust him. You’ve betrayed everything you stand for. You’ll never be able to work in the lab again. 
A small knock on the door interrupts your thought spiral. 
“Hoseok?” you ask optimistically, scrambling to get up. 
“No, Jungkook again.” The hot ball of shame in your guts glows even brighter. 
“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I can’t right now…” If you see anyone else, you’re going to cry.
“I have dinner for you.”
“I’m sorry.” The idea of eating anything right now feels entirely impossible. “I’m not… I’m not hungry.”
A long exhale comes from the other side of the door. “Okay, goodnight.”
You collapse to the floor of your sleep pod as the weight of all your shame and guilt and irresponsible choices crashes down upon you. 
_____
Part 10 coming soon! Apologies for leaving it there, but I promise the next update will be done much faster than this one. Thank you very much to anyone and everyone still interested in this fic.
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