#trip before internship
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good news: we have water again ! ! ! a pipe had burst somewhere up the street so the city came out and fixed it today (we still need to run the tap to get rid of the air and muddy water but. it's something.)
bad news: i had to go to my partner's to do laundry and shower so i missed out on work time today (bad) (anxiety inducing) (i don't need this right now)
worst news: i have a killer headache and my throat is suspiciously stiff đ đ
#please please please for the love of god ; ; ;#i am begging and pleading do Not let this be a repeat of last semester ; ; ; ;#this is exactly how i felt last time i got sick with covid and i Cannot afford another late start ; ; ; ;#i am. suddenly stuck by The Unwelcome Guest last week cryptically asking me when you're supposed to test for covid#and then saying 'hmm. okay. good to know.' and then refusing to elaborate#i swear. to god if she got me sick i'm#i. can't even say. i'm suddenly struck by such helpless grief thinking about how little i can do to keep her from being in my life ; ; ; ;#we literally Evicted her she all but threatened my older sibling into letting her visit weekly to take care of her potted plants#and then in october last year she was like 'my roommate has covid and i don't have money for a hotel i have nowhere to go :'('#so the agreement was she could stay for One Week#and basically she has been. on and off our couch since then.#like. only going back to her apartment for 1 to 3 days at a time before spending another two weeks in our house.#with new excuses every time.#and literally Every Time I Say No And Put My Foot Down older sibling begs on her behalf because she's busy hounding and guilt-tripping them#so like. what can i even do if it turns out she infected me with covid because she didn't care to disclose that she was feeling sick#(and decided to come over anyway)#i'm just. overwhelmed ; ; ;#i feel like crying ; ; ;#i'm already busy pre-mourning the loss of my mental health and down time with my internship starting back next week#i don't need to worry about whether or not i'm going to be bed ridden for 2 weeks#and suffer Even More lasting lung and brain and blood and fatigue issues on top of that ; ; ; ;#a a a a a i just. feel like crying a lot ; ; ; ;#i'm already behind ; ; ;#i should ; ; ; try to work more tonight before the inevitability of it all hits me tomorrow ; ; ; ; ;
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#putting this in the tags bc I need to get this out but also feel kinda guilty about it so I donât wanna scream it in a post#but I feel soo irrationally pissed at my friend#bc sheâs one of my best friends and I love her but I havenât heard from her all summer except for the like four times she answered my#messages only to immediately ask me something in return#it took her two weeks to reply to a meme I send her only to immediately follow up with âhet remember how you said your parents wanted to#hire my bandâ#âahaha summer is so busy Iâve read all my books anyway you told me I could borrow this one book?â#last was âheyy sorry for not replying haha anyway im bored next week wanna go on a tripâ#to which I replied âyeah I would love to but I have my internship starting next week rememberâ#and its like I donât mind that she doesnât answer my texts like god knows I hate texting#but its really starting to feel like our relationship is fully based on her needing me for something#which I have felt before but I kinda dismissed it as me thinking it was always me who had to take initiative which was disproved when she#asked me to meet up a few times but thinking back it was always like âhey letâs meet up for coffeeâ and then when I arrive having literally#left the library where Iâd been studying for only ten minutes bc otherwise i wouldnât see her.#sheâs like âoh I donât want coffee anymore but I need to go to the supermarket wanna join me?â#which I always did bc I wanna spend time together and itâs cheaper for me than getting overpriced coffee but!!!!#anyway Iâm feeling this now bc while she hadnât answered my âsorry canât go on a tripâ text I did just see that sheâs currently in portugal#with another friend#which is like??? so she just found someone else to relieve her of her boredom and so she didnât need me anymore so why answer me right??#anyway itâs probably not that bad and I will talk to her about it when I see her again which will probably be in a month I guess but for now#I donât wanna ruin her trip
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wait starset is going to be in krakĂłw in october this year holy shit
would kill to see them again and in a city much closer to me
#my internship ends in the middle of august so i hope i have a steady job by then and can go if not i could just put some money away from#my last paycheck to have for the concert and trip as a last indulgence before i'm penniless again for the foreseeable future#glitch.txt
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I have so many scheduling regrets about tomorrow
#i listed myself as an extra for the volunteering program hoping i wouldn't be needed but of course i was needed#and i can't not do it because honor#and also i am applying for an internship for this organisation that i really want#and i normally love volunteering#but it's two days after a trip and i also have therapy before it#puzzle's thoughts
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Bug like angel
pt2
Girl Afraid
May 12, XXXX
4:45 AM
"Shit," you think to yourself as you realize you're going to be late for school
Yes, your school usually doesn't start till 7 AM, but you have a field trip today, and the bus leaves at 5:30 AM.
"Ms.Rose is gonna kill me if I'm late again! Where did I put my bag? Where are my earbuds?" you whisper to no one in particular
You had a million thoughts running in your head, but one thing was sure, you were so late.
You still had to grab your phone, eat breakfast, put on your clothes, do your hair and makeup on the bus, and run towards the bus and then maybe you can make it in time.
You rush downstairs to get breakfast and realize you don't have to be as quiet because it's empty in the kitchen.
You quickly eat breakfast and finish your morning routine before making it out the door.
It's 5:43 when you make it onto the bus, Ms. Rose was waiting on you and thankfully didn't you much of a hard time.
"Ms.y/n, please be more considerate of others time next time."You sat down next to your "friends"
You don't fully consider them your friends, they're too full of themselves and you all know none of you guys are friends, just close acquaintances.
After finishing the coffee you brought onto the bus ride, doing your hair and makeup, and taking a quick nap while listening to music, you finally made it.
Alchemax.
You were excited for the trip, even asking Dick, Jason, and Bruce if they wanted to tag along as chaperones.
They said no, which you both understood and were also sad about but, whatever, who cares? Anyways- you're at the coolest place!
It's perfect for someone who wants an internship that would look great on your resume.
Why do you want that resume? You don't know. Maybe it's so you can impress your family? You aren't fully sure.
Before you question yourself further, you get off the bus, along with your schoolmates.
You hear them all chatting about whatever, but it's clear to everyone that you are the most excited to go on this trip.
You, who wouldn't shut up about it despite everyone at school and home telling you to. You, who kept bouncing off walls while talking about it. You, who constantly wrote about it in journals.
Nothing could stop your excitement, and that was clear to others.
While you were there, you were practically the only one participating.
The only one wasnt scared to ask questions.
The one that would ask questions for others who wouldn't.
You were sure that this was the best trip of your life! You were so interested in everything!
It wasn't until later in the day after you got home at 7:56 that you saw everyone in the dining room sitting together eating, like usual, without you.
Every time you saw them together your heart broke a little more.
You tried to not make a scene and just walk away quietly, and it worked!
With everyone but Alfred.
"And where have you been, young miss?" He asked in an authoritary tone.
"I've been on a field trip in Alchemax! I just got back! It was soo fun, why?" you asked, knowing what he was going to ask.
"Wouldn't you like to have dinner with the others?" it's clear he just wanted the others to notice you, he knew you've tried so hard to be with them.
"it's alright, Alfred. I grabbed lunch with my friends earlier, I'm still full!" you said enthusiastically. It wasnt a lie, afterwards you all went to your favorite fast food place, batburger. You're sure theres no better fast food place than batburger.
"Oh, that's quite alright then." as soon as he said that you went upstairs to get unready and unpack for the day. you didnt notice Jasons slight dissapointment on his face when you refused and walked away.
It's good that it was a Friday, you could rest tomorrow.
You didn't notice how you accidentally took Project 111 with you. Mustve sneaken in your bag while you went to the bathroom while at Alchemax.
It took you a while to open your bag due to you getting ready for bed, and you screamed when you saw a spider in your bag and crawling onto your hand.
"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK STOP CRAWLING ON ME LEAVE ME ALONE WHERE DID YOU COME FROM GO AWAY!" the stupid spider kept crawling on you.
It's honestly suprising no one heard you scream. Either that or they didnt care.You didnt know what to do. You hate spiders.
It took you minute or two of just flailing before actually doing something.You tried to reach for your nearest hairbrush to hit the spider with, only to accidentally hit yourself anywhere but where the spider was. Thats gonna leave a mark.
The spider, project 111, ended up biting you on the wrist. You ended up killing it with your hairspray.
You started panicking on whether you would die or not, you may have cried a little before realizing you were being a tad bit dramatic.
You realized the spider didn't look like the venomous ones you researched online while trying to find common ground with Damian back when he was new
So you decide to keep this to yourself, a nice little secret.
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3:37 AM
You woke up sweating, panicking, hot, cold, tired, wide awake, hungry, full, thirsty, not thirsty.
You didn't know what was happening.
You forced yourself to fall back asleep.
it's around 12 PM when you wake up again.
You hope it was just a weird nightmare.
You realize you woke up late to breakfast, which was usually at 9:30 for you, so on your desk was some cold breakfast Alfred left for you.
While eating it, you thought about what happened.
Was it a dream? Was it a sign? Were you high?
You start walking in circles trying to figure out what it could all mean...it took you a while to realize you were literally upside down on your ceiling.
Oops?
Before you processed it, you panicked.Why are you on the ceiling? Why were you walking on walls? How were you walking on walls?
So many questions. No one to answer them.
After a bit of panicking and running around making a mess, you realize you sort of have powers.
You could stick to walls, that was one.You could make webs, thats two. You could be a hero, like the others!
At first, you find it so cool!
..then you realized your father doesn't want metas in Gotham...
You decide to keep this to yourself, for now at least.
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oml this is so short oops guys i swear im. tryigg my hardest but also im kind of a bad writiter đ
anyways the next one of these i make is most likely gonna be emu reader cause shes so silly
anyways
#batfam x neglected reader#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#batsis#bruce wayne x daughter reader#neglected reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x batsis#yandere batfam x spider reader#spider bat!reader#across the spiderverse#spider reader#arachnids#dc batfam#batfamily x batsis!reader#batfam x child reader#batfamily x neglected reader#batfam x you#batman x reader#batsis reader#neglected batfam#neglected reader x batfamily#platonic batman#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam x neglected reader#batman#batfam
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Carpe Diem
Authorâs Note: We all miss him. So I wrote the most romantic thing Iâve ever written.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e5f75a11a48127c2170bbac1b7165d05/edb174e125500e6d-9c/s540x810/cb252d392fe502189e9d98bf0411aa68f6507415.jpg)
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A glass of chilled Savasana California RosĂ© sat in front of you, its diluted pink hue a stark contrast to the sweet yet crisp taste. With a fork in hand you begin to dig into the chicken parmesan with strozzapreti pasta, the chunky tomato sauce brings a rich and comforting smell that shifts your attention from the constant hum of the plane's engine. Eating dinner on a plane like thisâsilverware instead of plastic cutlery, wine served in real glassâfelt oddly surreal. This whole trip did, like youâd stumbled into someone elseâs life.
You hadnât always pictured yourself in this lifeâa corner office in Berkeley, managing accounts worth millions and rubbing elbows with executives. The internship youâd applied for during your junior year of college was meant to be a stepping stone, a way to pad your resume and have something cool to look back on the future. You hadnât expected it to become the foundation of a career at a place ranked 7th among the largest biomedical companies by revenue in the world. And here you were sipping rosĂ© in first class on your way to a solo vacation in Greece. Somehow, it had all come together. Your first year making six figures was surreal enough, but now the freedom to spend it on something like this felt even more unbelievable.
The hotel room you would be calling home for the next few days was stretched out like it came straight out of a travel magazine. Everything about it screamed neutral paradise, highlighting the warmth of the space. Plush pillows stacked neatly atop the Temper-Pedic king sized bed that earned the hotel all five of its stars with just one glance. The open layout gave the impression of a private condo, complete with a sleek mini bar and an espresso machine that practically begged to be used. The view from the top floor was breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that made way for the vibrant blue skies that allowed the sun to shine at it's greatest capacity, reflecting off the marble from the streets of southern Athens below. And the colors were so dynamic; olive groves, fields of breathtaking wildflowers and citrus trees brought the city to life. Everything reminded you of a landscape painting, it was all so perfect you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you were really here.
But before your Athens takeover could really commence, you needed a nap. Or three.
Day one passed in a blissful haze of recovery. After a nap that could have doubled as a small coma, you walked by the hotelâs pool, taking in the sparkling water and the soft chatter of other guests lounging under striped umbrellas. Breakfast that morning was a feast fit for royalty, an omelet folded to perfection, fresh fruit that tasted like sunshine, and Moustokouloura, a pastry so rich and sweet it felt like dessert at dawn. The concierge insisted you try Greek coffee, and when the steaming cup arrived at your door, its strong, earthy aroma greeted you like a wake-up call from the gods. You took it to the patio, sipping as you let the city below slowly introduce itself. This is exactly where you're supposed to be. Athens was filled with color, sound, and possibility. This was freedom, pure and simple.
Feeling refreshed on your second morning after some extensive Tik Tok research about things to do in Athens, you walked around the streets of Plaka, by far the most recommended place on the site. And it didn't take long for you to understand why. The neighborhood was a collection of some of the most beautiful brick buildings, an array of restaurants with uniquely placed outdoor seating. The air carried the mingling scents of fresh pita, grilling souvlaki, and blooming jasmine. Laughter and snippets of conversation floated from cafĂ© tables spilling onto the sidewalks, where diners lingered over plates of mezes and glasses of ouzo. You walked slowly, admiring every square inch of the place like you were going to commit every detail to memory, stumbling upon a store with random trinkets you figured you could take home to your friends and tell them what they were getting themselves into when you all would be in Greece together eventually. Now that you'd experienced this on your own, you couldn't wait to share this experience with them next time. The first person you spotted when you walked in was a tall man, well over six feet, broad shoulders with his back facing the door. He was sexy from the back which meant...no. You shook yourself out of the daydream about what this man could possibly look like because of course men in Greece looked better. That was some sort of law or something based on every movie you'd ever seen. The book shelf at the front of the store caught your eye first, a Greek guide book with common phrases for tourists to know, things that maybe Duolingo wouldn't think of so you grabbed it, scanning the pages for useful information. You tried to focus on the guidebook in your hands, but your nerves betrayed you. An older manâs gaze prickled at your skin, a quiet warning sounding in your mind. Maybe it was nothing, you told yourself. He could just be a curious local. But by the third lap around the shop and you could still feel his eyes in you, the goosebumps on your arms had turned into a full-blown alarm.
The man was closer now, his steps too deliberate to be a coincidence. By the time he spoke, his voice was low and overly familiar, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist. âHi. Didnât mean to scare you,â he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. âI just... couldnât help noticing you.â
You swallowed thickly, hoping to keep the conversation short, sweet and with as little personal information exchanged as humanly possible. "Yes. Just visiting," you force out a smile.
"Ah I see, those are pretty," he gestures toward the necklaces in your hand, "pretty necklaces for a pretty lady. Does the pretty lady have a name?"
"Um," you wanted to take a step back, you wanted to walk away, but there was literally no way out of this situation because he was standing in between you and the exit. And for some reason you couldn't think of a fake name off the top of your head to give him. "It'sââ
âOh hey, babe. There you are,â a deep voice interrupted. Your head whipped around, and there he wasâbroad shoulders, a jawline sharp enough to rival a Greek statue. He had the kind of easy confidence that made your heart skip a beat. Mr. Broad Shoulders slid his arm around you, his touch casual but protective, the warmth of his hand anchoring you in place but doubling your pulse rate for a different reason. âThought you wanted those charm bracelets, but you disappeared on me.â
âI got distracted.â Your gaze flickered upward, caught on the sun-kissed curl falling across his forehead. He smelled faintly of cinnamon, like heâd been leaning over a freshly lit candle moments before swooping in to save you.
The man takes a look at the two of you and apologizes, walking away without a second glance. You let out a sigh of relief, "thanks for the save, I really didn't know what to do and you just-I really appreciate it."
"No worries, I saw him following you around and thought it was weird. Glad I could help."
You look around to make sure the man from before, spotting him circling the back area with the pasties. "It's...very weird. He didnât seem like heâd back down that easily."
âIâm Joe, by the way. Since Iâm your boyfriend now, that seems like something you should know.â
You laughed, the tension in your chest finally easing. âYeah, probably. Nice to meet you, Joe. Iâm Y/N, your very grateful girlfriend.â
Joe leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper meant just for you. âHeâs still watching us. Mind if I sell this a little more?â Without waiting for an answer, he adjusted his grip, his arm tightening around your shoulders like heâd been holding you this way forever. It was seamless, effortless, entirely too convincing. And it left you speechless. All you could do was nod, looking up at him, thinking about how this guy might be the most gorgeous person you've ever seen.
The two of you moved around the store aimlessly, the conversation flowing like youâd known each other for longer than half an hour. Joe explained heâd been in Greece for a few days, taking time to decompress after a grueling work season. âSometimes, I just need to step away,â he said, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that struck a chord.
âI get that,â you replied, sharing your own story of navigating your career and this newfound independence. You admitted, almost sheepishly, that sometimes your job didnât feel like work because it aligned with your passions so perfectly. Joe nodded, his expression softening. âThatâs how I feel,â he said. âI mean, this year it really magnified that for me. But sometimes when things don't go the way you hoped or planned, it makes the sacrifices worth more. Like not having as much free time when I'm working. Now, I have endless free time."
There was something magnetic about himânot just the broad shoulders and effortless charm, but the way he seemed so present. Every touch felt intentional, whether it was his hand on your back as you navigated tight spaces or his offer to buy the travel book youâd been thumbing through. You felt a strange sense of familiarity, like youâd seen him somewhere before but couldnât quite place it.
After carefully deliberating over the trinkets, you settled on matching necklaces for your friends. On your way to the register, a woman approached, her expression warm and animated.
âSorry to interrupt,â she began, âbut I just had to tell youâyou two make the most stunning couple. The way you look at each other, itâs just... beautiful. Are you here on an anniversary trip?â
âOne year,â Joe answered without hesitation, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he squeezed your hand.
âThatâs incredible! Congratulations!â the woman gushed. âAthens is the perfect place to explore as a couple. Do you have plans yet?â
You chimed in, âNot really. We were just going to see where the day takes us.â
The woman nodded enthusiastically and rattled off recommendations, from must-visit landmarks to hidden culinary gems. You took notes on your phone, her suggestions igniting your excitement for the day ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe watched you with a kind of awe. The way your face lit up when you talked about exploring the city tugged at something deep inside him.
Heâd spent the last four days locked away in his room, trying to process a season that had been equal parts triumph and heartbreak. It wasnât just the physical toll of the gameâit was the sting of being so close to the pinnacle and falling short. They had gone from 4-8 to 9-8 in what felt like the blink of an eye. The unmet expectations that he had for the team dulled his personal success a bit and he needed to escape after watching other teams prepare for their playoff runs while he cleaned out his locker. He just wanted to recharge and regroupâŠalone. And here you were, an unexpected spark in the midst of his self-imposed solitude.
When the woman finally bid you goodbye, you hesitated. Should you ask him to join you? The idea of spending the day with a strangerâno matter how kind and gorgeousâfelt bold, maybe too bold. But being alone again felt... unbearable. You decided against asking because the thought of rejection was a step above unbearable, if at all possible.
âWell,â you began, your voice faltering slightly, âI guess this is it. I should probably head to my next stop now that I have a to-do list.â You forced a small laugh, keeping your gaze on the floor.
Joe nodded, his smile tinged with something you couldnât quite place. âNice to meet you, Y/N. I hope you check off everything on your list.â
He watched you walk away, his chest tightening with each step. He wanted to stop you, to ask you to stay, but the words wouldnât come. All he could do was stand there, frozen, as the door swung open.
You paused just before stepping outside. Something tugged at youâa feeling that walking away now would be a mistake.
Turning back, you smiled shyly. âI just realized... how am I supposed to experience Athens to its full potential without my boyfriend? On our anniversary trip, no less?â
Joeâs laugh was warm, easy. âNo idea. Luckily, I think I know someone who can help.â
âYouâre always so helpful. I feel like I won the dating lottery.â
âCanât disagree,â he teased, his grin widening.
âAlright,â you said, nudging him playfully, âletâs get out of here before your head gets so big it doesnât fit through the door.â
He walked out with you, allowing you to lead the way to your first stop.
Fairytale Athens looked like an intense mix between the Garden of Eden and Alice in Wonderland. "This is...wow," Joe quips, the vast array of flowers on the ceiling, the pink bar area and the flamingos. So many flamingos.
You could tell by his tight expression that this place isn't really his scene. "We're not here for two hours of afternoon tea or anything," you reassure him with a smile, "Dimitra said that we should grab drinks before walking around Acropolis and that..." you glance at the menu in front of you, "...strawberry ginger lemonade? That might be calling my name." He shakes his head and orders a mint and cucumber lemonade for himself, your lemonade and two waters as you walk around the princess castle, taking as many pictures as possible before Joe walked back over with all four drinks in hand before heading to the incredibly famous tourist attraction.
The package you paid for allowed you to skip the line and head through a side entrance, your tour guide walking you through the history of the ancient sights along with details about the architectural styles, construction techniques, and the symbolism of the monuments. The faint echo of the voices highlighted the rich history of the place you were standing in, the warm air a stark contrast to the cool lemonade in your hand. It seemed like Joe was hanging onto every word as he helped you up some steep ancient steps, his eyes lighting up as the guide drove you over to the museum, going into depth about the Gods.
"This exhibit is Gods, Worship and Magic, one of the most popular sites this year. You guys can walk around and read about the different deities featured." Artemis' exhibit, caught your eye first.
Glancing down at the steel plaque, "goddess of the hunt, devoted to nature. Were you ever a Percy Jackson fan growing up?"
"I was more of a SpongeBob guy. And Star Wars. Definitely had a dinosaur phase that lasted a lot longer than I care to share," he looks up, wondering why in the hell he just told you that. "Doâdo you have any humiliating stories you'd like to share with the class?"
He nudged you as you walked alongside him, his hand so dangerously close to yours. You had the biggest urge to reach out and touch him. So you did. Reaching out maybe an inch, you interlocked your pinky with his, making his heart take a leap in his chest, swinging your hands happily towards the Eros exhibit. "The god ofââ
"Love and desire," he finishes for you. Just because he wasnât a Percy Jackson fanatic, doesnât mean he didnât pay close attention to the Greek mythology unit in school.
"Look at the hands," you said softly, leaning in closer. "It's like they're...perfectly fit for each other, you know?"
Joe's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. He was standing so close now, the faint scent of mint and cucumber from his lemonade mingling with the earthy air of the exhibit. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice warm and low, "I know what you mean."
Your pinkies were still hooked, but now the little space between you felt electrified. You didn't dare turn to meet his eyes, afraid of what you might seeâor what he might see in yours.
"I do have an embarrassing thing to share with the class," you turn to face him and admire the excited look on his face, like what you're about to say is the most important thing in the world. "When I was little I was obsessed with Mama Mia." He gives you a puzzled look. "It's a musical that they turned into a movie. Anyway...it's about a girl that's getting married in a small town in Greece and the views just..." you pause, smiling at the memory, "...changed my life. I've always wanted that magical movie moment feeling. The music, the views, theâŠâ
"Romance?" he finishes softly, a knowing look in his eyes.
You exhale, your cheeks warming as you nod. "Yeah...the romance. It was nice too." You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. "Doesnât really compare to the real thing, though," you add, barely above a whisper.
The weight of the moment lingers between you. His gaze searches yours, his expression softening like he wants to say something but canât quite find the words. Your heart stumbles, and suddenly you feel too seen. You clear your throat, breaking the spell. "I'm, uh, getting kind of hungry. We should grab lunch and head to the next spot."
Joe blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, like he wasn't ready for the shift. "Yeah, sure," he says, his voice gentler now. He watches you for a second longer than you'd expect, then nods. As you walk back to meet the tour guide, Joe finds himself wondering how youâve managed to unravel him so quickly, leaving him wondering why he already feels so invested in figuring you out.
When you get into the Uber it's like a weight has been lifted off your chest. The museum, which was supposed to be a calm and educational experience was too stuffy and intimate by the end of the visit. In the car, you could have your own space, sitting as close to the door as you could to gather yourself and your thoughts. The driver was nice enough, he had chargers in the car and gave you water bottles, noting that the heat would steadily increase throughout the day. You noticed him stealing glances at Joe in the rearview mirror, his hands tightening on the wheel like he was holding back words. The silence stretched until finallyââIâm sorry, man. I just gotta sayâŠâ he finally utters out, "I've been a Bengals fan since I was 8. And I woke up at ungodly hours to watch you play every week. Huge, huge fan."
You laughed at yourself in your seat, the pieces of the puzzle being put together. All of your focus had been on the day, spending every waking minute together and you didn't even fully process why he looked so familiar because the odds of that just sounded too insane to be real. Joe managed a polite smile, his usual ease replaced with a flicker of discomfort. You glanced at him, watching his jaw tighten just slightly as he signed the hat, the faintest blush creeping up his neck. Did he worry youâd see him differently now?
The car stopped near a bustling square lined with food trucks and small cafes. The aroma of grilled meat and spices wafted through the air as you wandered, your eyes drawn to colorful menus. It didnât take long for the debate to begin.
"Joseph, the mini burgers are definitely better than the souvlaki cones. Be serious."
"No they aren't!" He argues, "you just need to try another one, here."
The souvlaki cone was tender and smoky, the tzatziki tangy and cool against the heat of the pork. But the burgerâcrispy bacon, the creamy richness of the mayoâfelt indulgent, almost sinful. You savored every bite, laughing at Joeâs mock-offended gasp when you declared it the winner. "I hear you and I respect your wrong opinion. But the burger is just better I'm sorry. Do you want another bite?"
He shakes his head slowly, admiring you while you did such a mundane task, silently cursing himself at the fact that he chartered a plane to leave early the next morning. The two of you needed more time together. One day just wasn't going to be enough and the more time he spent with you the more apparent that fact became.
And then you took him on a boat.
It rocked gently, but Joeâs hands gripped the edge of the seat like the waves were threatening to tip them over. His gaze darted toward the horizon, avoiding the churning water below. âYouâre really not a boat guy, huh?â you teased, your voice softening when his fingers tightened further. "I'm so sorry I had no idea. But Joe? We're literally in Greece, it's like, treason not to get on a boat here."
"Exactly, so I'm abiding by the law. Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."
Your hand found his thigh in a quiet attempt to reassure him, and you felt the tension slowly drain from his muscles. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but the way his leg leaned ever so slightly into your touch sent a warmth through you that lingered long after. Aeginaâs coastline unfolded before you, the white-washed buildings glowing under the sun, expansive trees swaying in the breeze. Joe stepped out first, offering his hand. His grip was firm, steadying you until your feet found the solid ground. You smiled up at him, the unspoken connection between you stronger than ever.
Just as Dimitra had described to you before, the pottery studio was tucked in a quiet corner of the island. Inside, the walls were lined with vibrant pottery, each bowl and vase a testament to countless hands shaping their stories, their glazes gleaming softly in the sunlight as you and Joe grabbed seats toward the back of the room. The instructor's notes were simple, to mold an item of your choice to keep at the end of the session, giving everyone creative freedom to produce a piece of their heart's desire. The clay felt cool to the touch, it's sticky and wet texture balanced wonderfully with the earthy smell that made your experience all the more relaxing and fun. Joe on the other hand, was creating a bowl with a lopsided shape, "it's supposed to look like this," he said firmly, biting back a laugh as you tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.
"Abstract art is still art. I just thought maybe...a quarterback would be better with his hands," you teased.
"Oh yeah? Let's see your work, Picasso." He took a break from his work station to scoot closer to yours, "shit, that actually looks pretty good."
You clean your hands off and move over to his station when he sets his chair back down. "I worked at my uncle's ceramic shop when I was little. It was his passion project so we all had to pitch in as a family and take turns," you helped guide his hand along the bowl, allowing him to smooth over the ridges efficiently evening out some of the misshapen parts. "I'm not saying Iâm an expert by any means but I can get you to a point where your bowl can sit up by itself." Your fingers brushed his as you guided his hand, the soft pressure of your touch steadying his movements. Together, the ridges of the bowl began to smooth, though neither of you seemed in a hurry to let go. By the end of the session both bowls were done to the best of your ability, sort of bowl shaped, sort of not and full of personality.
"Youâre good at this," Joe says, watching as continued to shape your bowl.
"Good at pottery?" you ask, laughing.
"Good at making things feel...easier," he replies softly. The pottery, he thought to himself, sort of mirrored your time together-unpolished, imperfect, but full of potential and that was both exciting and daunting. After your hands were clean, he grabbed your phone and snapped a picture of the two of you showing off your bowls.
"I was scared when you mentioned doing this at first, but I actually really enjoyed that. This," he gestures to his masterpiece, "is going up somewhere, maybe next to the trophy case at my parent's house. Funny enough, they also live in Athens. Ohio, not Greece," he clarifies.
"You might've missed your true calling," you tell him with a laugh, "here you are wasting your talents on football when the art community needs you."
"Yeah...sure," he laughs, holding onto the bags with your now fully dry bowls in them. "Unfortunately, I don't think I'm ready to quit my day job. Quite frankly, I don't think the art world is ready for me yet. Although working that clay could have been really good wrist rehab."
There it was, that can of worms you'd been trying to navigate. You didn't want to push him to talk about the season or his job if he didn't want to. And now the door was open for you to ask. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to but...was it scary? You know, putting your entire life, all of your free time, your dedication to this one thing that you're obviously really good at. Putting in all that work and then one day it's all just...taken away from you?"
He stops walking for a bit and your breath hitches in your throat, fearing that you've pushed him too far. At the end of the day you were still a stranger to him and maybe that was too personal?
You could tell the question was kind of eating at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't meanââ
"No it's fine. I justâŠyeah. I was terrified for a little bit. No one had been through this beforeânot at my position, not at this level. I had no blueprint, no one to turn to for advice. It felt likeâ walking on a tightrope in the dark, hoping I wouldnât fall.
âThe scariest part wasnât the pain or the rehab," Joe admits. "It was not knowing if Iâd still be...me when it was all over."
You tilt your head, searching his face. "You mean, the quarterback?"
He hesitates, then shakes his head. "No. Just...me. Without football, I really didnât know who that was, how I was going to navigate fame and my private life and everything in between that comes with being me. Whatever that means. And I had an uncomfortably long amount of time to figure it out. Now that the wrist and my health is not an issue anymore and with everything that happened during the season I just felt drained afterwards. Exhausted honestly. And today's been exactly what I needed.â
"Today's been a breath a fresh air for me too. Obviously I didn't have 500 pounds of man laying on top of me but I get it on a smaller scale. Feeling like work is drowning you and nothing you do is good enough so you need to escape. This trip isnât just a celebration," you confess. "Itâs a reminder that Iâm more than my deadlines and titles. My boss once called me at 11 p.m. on a Sunday, and I didnât even blink before picking up. I guess I forgot what it felt like to just...be. I really needed aââ
"Reset," the two of you say at the same time, a comfortable silence washing over you as you continue to walk. "Thatâs kind of why I came here," you confess. "Not to figure out who I am, but...to remind myself Iâm more than my job. More than what other people expect of me."
"Feels like everyoneâs always watching, doesnât it?" Joe says, his voice quieter. "Waiting for you to fail or...prove them right."
"Yeah. But I think we deserve more than that."
Joe sighs, nodding quietly, "We do," Joe says with a small smile. "And one day, when we get it, weâll look back on this trip as the start of something different." He didnât say everything he was thinkingâsome things needed more time to come to the surface.
"Sounds perfect, lead the way."
After you shared the world's greatest chicken gyro, you walked around Aegina a little more, realizing that you had no time to change before dinner and you'd been wearing the same clothes all day long. You walked into a small store, grabbing things off the shelf to try on. Joe was easy, settling for gray cargo pants and a blue striped knit top. Rummaging through clothes and anything that wasn't instant online shopping had become a bit of a chore and you were on a time crunch which made you feel even more rushed. You grabbed three or four dresses and had Joe sit outside the fitting room while you tried the stuff on, only stepping out to show him your favorite.
"What do you think about this?â
The baby blue square neck A-line dress hugged your body like it was created just for you to wear, it's length accentuating your curves in a way that almost had him physically picking his jaw up off the floor. He didn't think you could look any better before but you'd just shattered his expectations. "You look absolutely amazing," he says sincerely, his mouth feeling dry.
You glance at him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Compliments werenât new, but the way he said itâlike it was the only thing in the world that matteredâleft you speechless. You managed a soft laugh, pretending to study your reflection. "Thanks." After heading back to the fitting room to change, you grabbed all of your items and headed to the front to pay with Joe standing behind you in line. The cashier rung up your items and was getting ready to bag it when Joe added his clothes to the mix.
"Joe what are you doing? You're not paying for my clothes."
He handed over his card without hesitation, ignoring your protests. "Iâve got this," he said, his voice casual but his eyes portraying something deeper, like this was the most natural thing in the world to him. "Boyfriends are supposed to buy things. I think itâs in the constitution.â
"It's definitely not. And seriously, you don't have to do this."
"I got it, don't worry babe." The word slipped out so effortlessly that for a second, you wondered if youâd misheard him. But the way his eyes flicked to yours, briefly widening, told you everything. He realized it tooâand yet, he didnât take it back.You thanked him the entire walk back to the boat, his soft laugh sending warm and fuzzy feelings in your chest.
You were starting to acknowledge the growing warmth between you two, the way Joeâs presence seemed to make every moment feel right. The idea of saying goodbye felt heavier than it should after just one day, but somehow, it seemed inevitable. The next spot was inside a resort, they allowed you to change your clothes and head upstairs to the rooftop bar to watch the sunset. The drinks and the view had nothing on you, he quickly realized, finding himself unable to tear his eyes away. Everything just made sense today, the museum walk, the easy conversation, the boat ride. He didn't want to leave before but now the mere thought of packing his suitcase tonight made him upset.
"What are you thinking about over there?" Your words snap him out of his thoughts.
"Nothing, just how much I'm going to miss it here. The peace, the incredible sunset..."
You. The word hung in the air for a while before he pushed it down and tried to move on.
"We should head over to there and get closer to the view, you can literally see the entire city from glass railing." You stood up first and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him over there. Luckily there wasn't anyone else in the area. "This is the most insane scenery. I don't get how anyone could get tired of seeing this everyday, I'd never be inside. I feel like weâve been the physical representation of carpe diem."
He looks at you confused, "what does that even mean?"
"Carpe diem? Itâs Latin for 'seize the day.' Basically saying not to focus too much on the future and live in the present to the fullest capacity.â
"I like that," he chuckles.
Long after the sun went down and most of your dishes were cleared from the table, the lingering sweetness of caramel on your lips was all you could think about, a fleeting pleasure that only made the impending goodbye sting even more.
"Joe I have to tell you something," he looks at you as you head over to stand in one of the private lounge areas, giving you his undivided attention. "I saw you this morning in the store. Your back was facing me but I don't know, you caught my eye. And I told myself I wouldn't say anything, I wouldn't go up to you and make small talk because I'm here on a solo vacation to be one with myself and-now I'm really glad that I know you."
A smile forms on the corner of his mouth, "I've been telling myself all day that this isn't real. That I could just let my guard down because in Greece, I don't have to be Joe Burrow. I can just be...Joe. You let me be exactly who I am, nothing more, nothing less. And honestly? This might've been the single greatest day of my life. I've had good ones, really good ones. But today is up there for sure." You hadnât realized how close youâd gotten until you could feel his arm against yours, his breath soft and warm on your cheek. His eyes dropped to your lips again, this time lingering a moment longer, as if the air between you had thickened. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath just a whisper away, as his hand hovered near your cheek. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a spark through you, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you in.
You couldn't allow yourself to go there. This wasnât supposed to happen, not now, not like thisâbut the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, made it hard to think clearly. As much as you wanted this, to feel him close, to taste the sweetness of that kiss, the weight of knowing how fleeting it all was crushed down on you. This wasnât just a kissâit was everything you were afraid to want, a piece of yourself that you couldnât let slip away so easily. If you already felt this strongly about him after a day, how were you going to make it through the rest of the vacation without him knowing how his lips tasted and how his strong hands pulled you in close, holding onto you like he'd rather lose everything than let you go. There was no way in the world you'd recover.
"We can't," you whisper, watching him drop his hand that had just been lightly caressing your cheek. "You're gonna leave tomorrow and I'm gonna be thinking about this kiss for a long time. And I can't," your voice trembles. "I don't want you to go, so I can't kiss you. I'm sorry."
"No don'tâdon't apologize. I get it." He still hadn't taken a step back, biting his lip to keep his emotions in check. "I can walk you back to your hotel? I haven't packed yet and I need to.â
"Sure, yeah that's fine."
The 15 minute walk felt like three seconds. You didn't want him to go. He no longer wanted to leave. "Y/N Iââ
You wrapped him up in a bone crushing hug, silently begging him to stay, just for a few more days. His grip on you was just as strong, his heartbeat thumping rapidly against your body. There weren't enough words in the English, or Greek dictionary to describe how much you were going to miss him. To miss this day. "Bye Joe." That was it. That was all you could manage. The moment you let go of him felt like a piece of your heart stayed in his arms. There was no way to explain the ache in your chest as you watched him turn away, the pull to stay stronger than any rational thought.
Going to sleep that night sounded impossible. The day had started out so innocent and special and the adventure and emotional rollercoaster you'd been on during the day made it feel like you'd experienced a series of days all wrapped into one. You set your bags down on the ground when you got to your room, too tired to change out of your clothes and falling asleep on top of the covers as soon as you laid down.
The next morning you checked the time on your phone, it was 8am. Joe had told you yesterday he was leaving at 10. That meek little goodbye wasn't going to cut it. You didn't even have his number. After your teeth were brushed and your clothes were changed, you rushed out of your hotel and got in an Uber, on your way to Joe's resort. The 46 minute ride allowed you to come up with everything you wanted to say, how this was only meant to be for a day but maybe it could be more? Maybe you could come see him in Cincinnati or he could come to Berkeley or someway somehow you could figure out a way to make it work.
You thanked your driver, opting to speed walk into the lobby. The person at the front desk couldn't give you access to the room without a reason, even when you gave them the name Joe used for his reservation. Pulling out your phone, you showed her the picture of you and Joe that he took at the pottery place and she finally believed you.
"I'm sorry ma'am, he actually left this morning a bit earlier than planned. He checked out at 7am to get on the plane."
Your chest tightened as the words settled inâhe was gone. Just like that, in the span of a few hours, everything had shifted. The chance to say what was left unsaid, the connection you had just begun to explore, all slipped away before you could even hold onto it.
It felt like a dark cloud loomed over you throughout the rest of the day. The sun, once so warm on your skin, now felt distant and cold. The flowers that had seemed so alive that morning now appeared dull, their colors muted, as though even nature understood the weight on your heart. While you ate lunch, you tried to people watch, although you quickly discovered that there were only couples surrounding you, sharing meals and laughing at each other's jokes which made you miss him even more. The only real bright spot of the day was your flower garden excursion, taking pictures of the newly bloomed bulbs and taking in their fresh scent. As the hours passed, you allowed yourself to breathe a little deeper, letting the moments of regret slip away as you focused on the simple joys of your surroundings. The beauty of the flowers, the calm of the gardens, it all reminded you that there was still peace to be found in this unexpected chapter of your life.
You were just beginning to let go of the weight on your chest, convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, this was how things were meant to be. But as you laid your phone down beside you, the familiar ping of a message broke the stillness.
It was an DM request on Instagram. The message had two simple words.
Carpe diem.
For a second, your heart skipped, and you couldnât help but smile. That phrase, so simple and yet so loaded with meaning, sent a wave of warmth through you. It was him. In a way, he had left his mark on you after all, even if he wasnât here to say the words aloud. Maybe, just maybe, this wasnât the end. And though you didnât know what tomorrow would bring or if this connection would ever evolve beyond this brief encounter, in that moment, with his words glowing on your screen, you allowed yourself one final thought: Maybe this was only the beginning.
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Tentastrophe
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Nico Hischier x Fem!reader
summary: reader and nico are in a secret relationship while on a camping trip together
notes: hi lovies! i got this request from my dear đïž anon so i had to get right on it!! this was so fun to write and even more fun to play out in my head while i was writing it đ€. also i had no clue what to name it so i quite literally just made up a word đ«Ł. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! đ«¶đŒ
request: Weâre camping and my tent ripped, can I please share yours?
[5.1k]
You hated the outdoors. Truly, you despised being outside.
You hated bugs, you were scared of wild animals, you hated the heat, you hated dirt, grass made you itchy, and you really hate the lack of indoor plumbing.
Literally, how do people enjoy spending a week out in the middle of nowhere, no signal for miles, no air conditioning, and eating the same four types of canned food? Not to mention your dislike of sleeping bags.
Who wants to sleep on a flimsy piece of material on the hard ground for days at a time? Itâs just simply not appealing.
You continue to list off the things in your head you hate about camping and the outdoors in general while watching yourself be driven farther and farther away from the city through the windshield of Jackâs SUV.
âOh câmon, Y/N, donât look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you,â you hear from the front seat, Jack looking at you through his rear-view mirror.
You roll your eyes at him.
âJack, Iâm being taken to a remote location against my will with no access to a bathroom or civilization for seven whole days. At least if someone kicked a puppy in front of me, itâd be over sooner.â
âWoah, so youâre advocating for puppy kickers now, are you?â A new voice rings out, this one belonging to Dawson, who occupies the seat against the window beside of you.
âSheâs not advocating for it, Dawson, sheâs just saying sheâd prefer it to being stuck in the woods with you for a week straight,â Holtzy responds from your other side, having been sandwiched between the two in the backseat of Jackâs car for the hour and a half ride to your unfortunate destination.
Dawson reaches behind your head to smack Alexâs. Alex tries to retaliate, and suddenly you have two hockey players trying to fight each other on either side of your body.
âHey! Cut it out before you hurt Y/N! Coach needs her to get good footage this weekend,â Luke yells at the two forwards.
âWow, thanks for showing me where my worth lies, Luke,â you deadpan.
Luke flashes you a grin before turning back around in his seat. âYouâre welcome.â
You stick your tongue out at him, knowing heâs just teasing you.
When you applied for a marketing internship at the Prudential Center a year ago, you had no idea that you would become so invested in this world. After the initial six month period of your internship was over, you were making plans to find work elsewhere when you were approached by the teamâs GM and asked if you were interested in staying on full time as the new social media manager.
You immediately agreed, knowing you had found your passion with working in sports and wanted to stick with it for as long as you could. It didnât hurt that you had become such good friends with a handful of the players close to your age, four of which were in the same car as you right now.
You and Jack were the closest, though. The two of you bonded over your shared love of country music, a rare find outside of your southern hometown. You had found other interests in common, too, but becoming each otherâs country music concert buddy is to credit for much of your friendship.
You grew close to Luke simply because of your proximity to Jack, but found that heâs become a little brother to you. People always assumed there was more than friendship going on between you and Jack, but both of the Hughes boys had become the brothers you never had, no feelings beyond that ever surfacing.
As your job continued to cause you to spend time with the team, you found yourself growing closer to other players as well.
Nico was another player you found yourself talking to long after your work duties were done for the day. Whether it was chatting before practice, pulling him a little too frequently to do interviews or make videos, or grabbing a bite to eat after practice and games because neither one of you wanted to end your conversations, you found the Swiss captain occupying a large chunk of your time both at work and outside of work.
Which doesnât make it all that surprising that he asked you to be his girlfriend three months ago.
After a huge win over the Islanders at home, the entire team had decided to go out to celebrate. You had caught a ride with Jack that morning, but when you were searching for him so you could leave, he was nowhere to be found, already gone to whatever bar everyone had agreed on.
Nico had stayed behind to do a few extra post-game interviews, so when you bumped into him outside of the locker rooms on your search for Jack, he offered you a ride. You had mentioned how hungry you were, telling him you should probably go home and grab something to eat and change before getting an uber to the bar, but Nico had pulled into the first late-night diner he saw after you mentioned your lack of eating dinner.
The two of you sat in the 50âs themed diner for hours, ignoring all the calls and texts asking where you were and why you didnât come out to celebrate. You didnât even realize how late it was until you received a text from Jack, asking that you call him when you got up so he knew you made it home safe, apologizing for forgetting you at the arena.
Nico walked you up to your apartment after driving you home that night, despite the fact it was after three in the morning and they had a mid-day practice the next day. You still donât know if it was the high of winning or the late hour, but he decided to kiss you at your doorstep that night. Three days later, he asked you to be his girlfriend because he told you he couldnât stand not being exclusive with you for a second longer.
No one knew, though. You kept on acting as if nothing had changed at work, and no one caught on otherwise. You decided it was fun to keep it to yourselves, enjoying being each otherâs secret. You didnât know the policy on dating your coworkers, either, so you didnât want to risk anything by outing the relationship this early.
You felt bad lying and sneaking around Jack and Luke, especially, but youâll tell them eventually. You enjoyed having no eyes on you, your relationship being simply between you and Nico right now. When you tell your friends and the rest of the team, itâll be out there for good. Fans will find out, your boss will find out, and then your small bubble of Nico will burst.
Thatâs another reason you dread this weekend. Not only do you just hate camping and being outside for long periods of time, youâre going to be stuck being around Nico for a week straight with no chance to be his girlfriend instead of his coworker.
The trip is the teamâs pre-season bonding activity, so youâre tagging along to capture material for future videos and pictures for the various social media pages and website. You had tried to send one of the other members of your media team, not thrilled at the idea of a camping retreat, but the head coach had requested you, specifically, because of your ability to convince the players to participate in various trends and videos.
You owe some of that to Nico, of course. After the two of you formed a friendship, he started telling his teammates they had to participate in whatever silly tasks you asked of them or heâd start reporting them to coach for making your job harder. Since his forceful request, you rarely had to fight to get any of the players to do the latest trending dance, or answer silly questions as they get on the ice before practice.
Unfortunately for you, this means the higher ups see your success and suddenly youâre volunteered to do things like this. And really, what kind of social media content can you create when you wonât even have cell service?
Tuning back into your surroundings, you notice youâre almost to the campground youâll call home this week. You were so lost in your own head that you barely even noticed the four (grown) men in this car with you singing loudly to the F.U.N. song from none other than Spongebob Squarepants.
Jack and Luke were duetting the song, Jack taking the spongeâs part and Luke singing Planktonâs lines. Dawson and Alex were simply adding harmonies.
You were in for a long week.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âWho in their right mind would put a twenty-four year old teenage girl in charge of putting together her own tent?â you whine out as Curtis walks over to see you trying to read the directions for putting together the tent laid out in front of you.
âHoney, I think youâre a little too old to be calling yourself a teenage girl,â he chuckles as he kneels beside you, taking the instructions out of your hands.
âIâm just a girl, Lazar. I will always be a teenage girl at my core, no matter what age I am. Therefore, Iâm a twenty-four year old teenage girl. And Iâm extremely incapable of building a fucking tent,â you cry out, crossing your arms and huffing.
Curtis just shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rods that go inside of the tent to give it structure, putting it together for you.
You sit back and watch, trying to help where you can, but ultimately being reverted back to the role of âholding the flashlight for dadâ, but instead youâre âholding the mallet for Curtisâ.
Halfway through putting your tent up, you see Nico start walking in your direction. You admire your boyfriend, his tan skin showing due to his green t-shirt being stuck in the pocket of his athletic shorts instead of on his torso. His black hat sits backwards on his head, hiding what youâre sure is sweaty hair. His favorite pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.
âAlready making the guys do your dirty work, how dare you, Y/N,â Nico teases as he stops to stand in front of where youâre sitting on the ground.
âListen, one perk of being a woman in sports is the fact that Iâm always surrounded by men just waiting to save the damsel in distress,â you put your hand across your forehead to hide the sun from your eyes, squinting your eyes as you look up at him.
He rolls his eyes at you, flashing you a smile.
âNeed any help, Curtis?â Nico calls out, but keeps his eyes on you.
âI think Iâm nearly done, but if you want to start hammering the stakes in the ground thatâd be great,â Curtis replies, not even looking up from the tent that had now taken shape.
âSure thing. The mallet, please,â he reaches his hand out to you.
You hand Nico the mallet, looking up at him with an amused grin. âGet to it, time to do manly stuff and go pound on something .â
You start to stand and Nico shoots his other hand out for you to grab onto, helping you heave yourself off the ground.
Once youâre stood in front of Nico, he pulls your hand toward him so youâre standing dangerously close to him, your chests nearly touching. You look around, making sure no one sees the position the two of you are in right now.
Nico leans down, lips grazing your ear as he whispers âUnless you want me to drag you behind a tree and do extremely un-coworker type things to you with the entire team right here, I suggest you donât talk about pounding anymore this weekend.â
A shiver makes it way down your spine as Nico steps back, walking over to where Curtis is now standing, turning to face the two of you.
You hope he assumes the redness on your face is because of the warm sun, and not because his captain just threatened to do R rated things to you behind a tree.
Ten minutes later, your tent is fully assembled and youâre blowing up your air mattress with a battery powered pump thatâs seen better days.
Jack had laughed at your for bringing an air mattress, claiming itâs not really camping if you donât sleep in a sleeping bag. You told him you refused to sleep on the ground with just a thin bag underneath you for the whole week. If you had to be here, you were going to make yourself as comfortable as you could.
You even brought a battery powered fan to sit in front of your bed incase you got hot at night, but you learned very quickly that even though itâs hot and humid during the day, the night is chilly and dark.
After everyone had settled in and the sun had set, Timo had managed to start a fire, placing hot dogs on a small grate he placed next to the fire while Jesper worked on opening cans of various types of vegetables to heat along side the sausages.
You laughed to yourself, knowing the team nutritionist would develop an eye twitch seeing what foods will be consumed by the players this week. The amount of sodium and carbs in the containers of food for the week were definitely not in line with the meal plan.
Finding a spot next to Jack, you go sit on one of the various logs around the fire, needing the heat to warm your chilled skin. Music played out of a speaker sitting on the picnic table behind the logs, one of your favorite country songs filling the space.
âNice choice, itâs one of my favorites,â you nudge Jackâs shoulder as you sat down, assuming he had control of the music.
âYeah itâs a good one, but donât look at me. Capâs the one with the aux right now,â he says, pointing to where Nico is standing by a tree, red solo cup in his hand.
You turn your head and make eye contact with him, his eyes having already found you. The raise of his cup and tilt of his head telling you he played this song specifically for you. Your face heats and you smile at the ground, trying to keep the grin from stretching too wide, not wanting to raise suspicion from the brunette to your right.
âYâknow, I wonder why Cap has any country music in his playlist at all, because last I checked, his phone was full of rap and Swiss music and he told me country was his least favorite genre,â Jack starts, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music and chatter. âBut then I remembered, I see you and him talking an awful lot after practice, before practice, and everywhere in-between.â You feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, worried Jackâs figured the two of you out. âYouâre not cheating on your music buddy, are you?â he asks, looking at you suspiciously.
Relief washes over you. He just thinks youâre sharing music with Nico. Not that youâre seeing Nico behind everyoneâs back.
âI might have mentioned a few good artists to him. But donât worry, concerts are still reserved for you,â you bump his shoulder again.
âMhmmm. Must have taken a lot of convincing to make a rap loving Swiss man convert to Zach Bryan,â Jack hums, still looking at you suspiciously.
âJust a few links sent is all,â you tell him, noticing heâs just staring at you. âWhat?â you ask, leaning back a bit.
âNothing,â Jack shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with an idea. âJust thinkingâŠhave you ever thought about going out with Cap?â
You choke on air. You try to recover with a cough, claiming you swallowed the wrong way. âWhat, what do you mean?â
âYou know, like you and Cap. Going on a date. Dating. I think you two would be good together. You guys already seem friendly enough, and heâs a great guy. Plus, I can see the way you look at him, Y/N. You definitely have a crush on the guy,â Jack teases.
You start laughing. Jack is confused by your reaction, not thinking his suggestion was funny at all, but you canât stop the laughs from escaping.
âOh, Jack. Youâre funny,â you tell him once you calm yourself down. âThatâs nice, but nah. I donât think Nico and I should go there. Too many things could go wrong, yâknow? Plus, who even knows if Iâm allowed to date any of you guys. Workplace romances are frowned upon in most jobs, you know.â
âOkay, it wasnât that comical of a suggestion. I was being serious, I think you guys would be great together. To hell with the rules. I can tell when two people are into each other,â Jack says with a hint of annoyance, not appreciating your little laughing outburst.
A look of surprise makes its way onto your face at his comment that he thinks Nico is into you, too. Maybe the two of you werenât doing such a good job at acting normal around the team. You succeed at suppressing the laughter this time, figuring a second outburst would really make Jack upset. âOh, you think heâs into me, do you?â
Jack looks at you like you just asked him if the sky was blue.
âAre you kidding me? Y/N, he literally jumps at the chance to be in any of your tik tok videos and he threatened the whole team so they would quit, and I quote, âmaking your job harder and just fucking do what you askâ or heâd report us to coach.â
You canât help but giggle this time, of course knowing all of this, Nico having told you himself after he did it, but you canât let Jack know that.
âI donât know, Jack, that doesnât exactly sound like something heâd do. What does he get out of it? More interruptions during practice? More attention on social media? Doesnât sound like Nico if you ask me,â you tell him, trying to play dumb.
âOh, I donât know, maybe he gets to spend more time with you. He gets on your good side, helps make your job easier while making ours harder. Earns brownie points to butter you up so you say yes to a date one of these days,â Jack leans his head towards yours, looking up at you like heâs just proven his point.
You steal a glance over at Nico, his head cocked, silently asking what you and Jack are talking about. You shake your head with a smile, telling him its unimportant with the roll of your eyes.
âI donât know, Jack. Weâll see, I guess,â you sing song, earning a sigh from the boy to your right.
âYouâre hopeless, both of you. I need another beer,â he gets up, leaving you on the bench by yourself, chuckling at just how right your best friend is.
After all of the burnt hot dogs and lukewarm veggies were eaten, it was time to for everyone to retire to their tents.
All of the players had to double up on tents, you and the coach being the only two people with their own. The players that were sharing tents on this trip would be sharing hotel rooms all season, so the bonding began with them being able to exist in the same space for an extended period of time.
Your tent sat about 50 feet from Jack and Lukeâs. Nicoâs tent was in the row of tents in front of yours, three tents separating the two of you.
You quickly made your way to your own tent and started getting ready for bed. Not being able to wash your face or do you proper skincare routine, you settled for brushing your teeth with a warm bottle of water and applying lotion to your face before crawling into your make-shift bed for the week. You hadnât packed nearly enough blankets, seeing as you assumed it would be warm inside your tent, but you were chilled to the bone. You kept your sweatshirt on, opting for a pair of sweatpants instead of the skimpy sleeping shorts you brought.
You settled into your bed, switching off the small lantern you had been provided.
You laid there for what felt like ages trying to fall asleep. Every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you scared a bear was about to claw its way through your tent.
You thought you had imagined it at first, assuming the wind was blowing and causing your tent to slightly ruffle in the wind. But when it happened a second time, this time the sound of something fiddling with the zipper of your tent following the ruffling, you were starting to panic.
You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chin as you saw a hand push on the door of your tent, a quiet yelp making its way out of you.
âShhh, itâs just me, let me in,â you hear the familiar, accented voice of your boyfriend ring out, huffing while walking over and unzipping your tent just enough for him to slip through.
You walk back over to your air mattress, turning on the small lantern, looking at Nico standing in the middle of your tent. He was wearing a tan sherpa fleece with plaid pajama bottoms. He had to hunch over slightly, his height being too tall for your small tent.
âWhat the hell are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me, you know that?â you whisper yelled at him, careful to not raise your voice too high as to not wake any of his teammates.
âMy tent ripped, can I please share yours?â Nico asks with a smirk on his face.
âOh, yeah? If your tent ripped then whereâs Jesper sleeping, huh?â you raise your eyebrow and cross your arms.
âI just left him to fend for himself. Didnât exactly want to invite him to sleep in here with us. Never know what he might see,â he walks towards you, placing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.
He looks down at you, your position mirroring earlier when this exact tent was being assembled, but you had no fear of anyone seeing you now.
âHi, Schatz.â
You giggle up at him, unraveling your arms and placing them on his shoulders. âHi Neeks.â
âIâve been waiting all day to do this,â he mumbles before bringing his face down to yours.
You lean up on your tip toes to meet his lips, sighing contently into the kiss.
Nico pulls you closer, no space left between your bodies as his sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing against him into the kiss.
His tongue swipes across your lips, asking for entrance, and who are you to deny his wish? His tongue slips into your mouth, effectively deepening the kiss.
Nico walks you backwards until you plop down onto your air mattress, bringing his knee to rest in-between your legs, his forearms on either side of your head to support his weight.
You tug on his hair slightly, earning a groan in response. He starts grinding his pelvis against your thigh, which was your sign to stop this before it got too out of hand.
You pull back, pushing him up off of you slightly. He looks down at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. âAlright, tiger, slow down. Weâre not having sex with several tents full of your entire team a few feet away.â
Nico deflates and brings his forehead to rest against your shoulder. âYou couldnât have told me that before I got a stiffie?â
âSorry, shouldnât have let yourself get so worked up. Shouldâve known I wasnât going to go there with this many people around,â you laugh at his whiney tone.
He rolls off of you onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.
âWhat are you doing? Quit being so dramatic,â you roll your eyes, trying to grab his arm and remove it from his face.
âStop, trying to think of sad puppies to make my boner go away,â he swats your hand off of his arm.
You bust out laughing for the second time tonight, but this time you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the noise. The conversation about puppies in the car on the way here earlier making its way to your mind, making you laugh even harder.
âOkay, I think Iâm good now,â Nico finally says, sitting up.
âGood. Donât even think about getting handsy, either. This,â you gesture between you and Nico, âis not happening tonight. Or any night this week, for that matter.â
âGot it. You donât want any of my teammates to hear you scream my name while my tongue is ins-â you slap a hand over Nicoâs mouth, not letting him finish that sentence.
His eyes shine with amusement at you, seeing your own wide in surprise. âCan I trust you to take my hand off of your mouth?â you ask him.
Nico shakes his head, but not before he darts his tongue out and licks a stripe up the palm of your hand, causing it to fly off of his mouth.
âOkay, youâre disgusting,â you scold him, wiping you hand on the blanket youâre both sitting on top of.
Nico just laughs at you in response, finding your annoyed expression amusing.
âCâmon, letâs go to bed. Iâm already sick of you and the week hasnât even started yet,â you tell him, pulling the blanket back so you can settle under it.
Nico follows your lead and places himself under the blanket at well, pulling your body close to his.
You lay your head on one end of your pillow while Nico places his on the other end, not having brought his own from his tent. The two of you just lay there facing each other for awhile before you remember to reach over and turn off the lantern once again.
Youâre appreciative of the new warmth Nico brings to your bed, finally feeling yourself get sleepy.
âWait, how are you going to know when to wake up before everyone else and go back to your tent?â you ask him, knowing his phone was in his vehicle, none of the players allowed their devices with them. You and coach were the only ones with phone privileges this week, even though they didnât even work out here.
âDonât worry, I will. First time I wake up Iâll sneak out, donât worry,â he assures you, kissing you on the forehead before pulling your body flush to his, resting his chin on the top of your head.
Neither one of you must have woken up at all during the night, though, because when you wake up the next morning to the screams of âI knew it! I knew they were into each other! I told you so!â from your best friend as he stood inside your tent at the end of your bed with not only Luke, but with half of the team standing outside the wide open door of your tent, you were confused until you felt the weight of a body against yours. You open your eyes to see Nicoâs scrunched face, the noise waking him up as well.
You both roll over and open your eyes, noticing your audience.
âI called it! I knew there was something going on here! How long have you two been together?â Jack bombards the two of you with questions despite you having literally just woke up.
âGet the hell out of this tent before I get coach to make everyone run three miles today,â Nico grumbles, his voice gravely from the early hour.
âNo way, we need an explanation,â Dawson speaks this time, his expression matching Jackâs pleased one.
âYouâll get your explanation, but for right now, get out. Let us actually wake up without fifty people in our fucking tent. Now go, get out,â Nico pulls you closer to him, hiding your face in his chest and slinging a leg over your own.
âBut-â Jack starts again, but Nico removes an arm from around you and points at the door, âOUT!â he says sternly, his captain voice making an appearance.
The group of men start grumbling, but ultimately leaving your tent, zipping your door back up so you and Nico could have a bit of privacy again.
âNico, you didnât wake up,â you say, your voice muffled because of how close heâs holding you to his body.
âSorry, Schatz. Was sleeping too good, I guess. Always happens when Iâm sleeping with you. Youâre like my own personal melatonin.â
You chuckle at him, not really mad that everyone found out, just wishing they hadnât found you asleep together on a tiny air mattress.
âAt least the boys know now. Now I donât have to keep sneaking around at practice. I can stare at your ass loud and proud now,â Nico says, detaching himself from you and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes.
You reach over and hit him in the chest. âThis doesnât give you permission to say innapropriate things to me while weâre at work.â
He rolls his head to look over at you, âWouldnât dream of it,â he smiles innocently, causing your to roll your own eyes and sigh at him.
âHey! You guys better not be having sex in there! Iâm implementing a no bone zone when Iâm within a hundred feet of you two! Get your asses out here and get to explaining!â you heard Jack shout once again, beating his fist on the side of the tent.
You bring your hands up to cover your face, embarrassment flooding your veins.
âJack! Suit up, youâre coming with me on a little run,â you hear coach shout, earning a âShit, Nico this is your fault!â from Jack.
You burst into a fit of giggles.
You canât help but feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, not having to lie to some of your closest friends anymore. You also foresee your week of no time with Nico changing slightly, figuring Jesper will be down a roommate for the remainder of the week.
Nothing, though, not even sharing a tent with Nico, or sneaking off to find open areas to gaze at the stars at night, could make you like camping.
You almost change your mind the night Nico takes you to a clearing, laying a blanket on the soft grass to stare up at the sky before he gifts you a necklace with his initial on it, the engraving on the back echoing the small âI love youâ he whispers in your ear as he clasps the jewelry onto your neck.
You almost thought you liked camping then, until you walked back to you tent to find Nico had left it unzipped and a possum had made a home in the corner, hissing at him as you screamed loud enough to wake the whole team.
Yeah, you hate camping.
#nico hischier#nico hischer x reader#nico fic recs#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#nh13#new jersey devils#hockey#nhl#nhl blurb#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fanfiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl players#nhl hockey#nhl playoffs#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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reunited
author's note: just a little drabble to make up for my absence. this takes place in the nothing happened in the way i wanted verse about six months after reader and matt get back together (aka stanley cup finals).
summary: you told matt you couldn't make it to the stanley cup finals...and yet here you are
pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader
warnings: cursing? pda?
you heard the disappointment in mattâs voice when you told him you couldn't make it to his playoff games. you'd managed to come to a game vs. the rangers, but when the panthers made it to the finals, it was clear that your schedule might not even allow you a week off. but when you looked at the calendar and saw you had an opening before you summer internship, you immediately booked a flight to miami.
everything was set.
until two days before game seven, the flight was canceled.
âmatt, iâm so sorryââ
âbaby, itâs fine. you canât control it.â
âiâm trying to look for flights but they're all full.â you could hear the way he tried to stifle his sigh. but you knew him like the back of your hand, you knew how much this meant to him, how close he came last year. and you wanted to be there. you knew he wanted you to be there.
which is why you took your airplane refund (and a little out of savings) and starting looking at rental cars.
in hindsight, making an eighteen hour trip alone was not the smartest decision you ever made, and it surely wasn't a choice matt would approve of if he knew about it. but maybe he'd be so caught up in the post game that he wouldn't ask how you got there.
when you got into the city, taryn was the one who met you at their hotel. she smiled and gave you a tight hug.
âhow was the drive? not too bad i hope?â
you gave her a sheepish smile. âi might need another five hour energy.â
she bumped her shoulder with yours. âiâm sure the game will be hyped enough to wake you up.â
âthank you for waiting for me.â
tarynâs laugh was immediately swallowed up by the sounds of traffic, but you felt it just the same. âmatt would kill us if we left you to walk to the arena alone.â
âhe doesn't know iâm here, does he?â
she shook her head. âwe havenât said a word. but please believe he's done nothing but mope about it.â
you rolled your eyes. âhe doesnât have time to mope, not when winning the cup is so close.â
and it was.
you couldn't remember a time where you'd screamed as loud as you had. your blood was pumping, heart pounding, you were torn between squeezing your eyes shut from anxiety and keeping them focused on the game. maybe after the game, you'd apologize to taryn for holding her arm so tightly, but she was squeezing yours back just as hard.
you watched as they kept the puck in the corner as the clock ran down. the nail polish you'd painted on your fingernails were in fragmented chips on the floor. your eyes kept darting from the jumbotron to the ice, back and forth back and forth.
but the buzzer went off and your boyfriend hopped onto the ice with his teammates. taryn was pulling you into a threeway hug with brady. before you knew it, you were being shuffled out of your seats, down the stairs, and onto the ice.
you were operating on autopilot, sticking close to taryn and brady. you were in the back, behind his parents and siblings, not really focusing on where you were going, only knowing that tarynâs grip was on your wrist.
people bumped into you, cameras were everywhere, yet your gaze was solely on tarynâs red leather jacket. maybe you should've dressed differently, worn something fancier instead of a jersey and jeans. it was game 7 and your boyfriend just won the stanley cup and you probably looked exhausted and there were going to be pictures that would probably live on the wall of mattâs childhood home for the rest of time.
taryn and brady stopped walking which could only mean that they'd found matt. if you could see over bradyÂŽs broad shoulders, you might have been able to see the embrace matt gave his mom, then the massive hug he gave his father. you couldn't hear what was being said, but you a glimpse of a red sleeve hug taryn before brady was next.
mattâs arms went around bradyâs shoulders, his head peeking over, when the two of you made eye contact for the first time in weeks. his blue eyes widened in shock before he physically shoved brady off of him and out of the way.
âno way!â matt said over the noise before you were being yanked into his arms, lips pressed against his. it was clumsy and mostly teeth, but who could blame either of you? heâd just won the stanley cup.
you pulled away first with matt still chasing your lips until you placed a hand on his chest. âcongrats, baby.â
âwhat're you doing here? i thought you said you couldn't make it! howâd you even get here?â
you smiled sheepishly. âi drove.â
mattâs smile dropped for a moment as he rolled his eyes. he placed a kiss on your forehead and brought you into your chest. âyou're an idiot, but i love you.â
âi love you, stanley cup champion.â
he preened for a moment until he realized you'd successfully navigated the conversation back from yourself. âdonât think we won't talk about that later, baby.â
as the celebrations continued, regardless of who came up to him, mattâs hands never left your body. maybe it was the high of winning or maybe it was because you hadn't seen him since game five against the rangers but he wouldn't let you out of his sight. you tried to sneak away to stand with his family while he was being interviewed, but he never let you get far enough. at one point, you were standing just far enough to be out of shot of the camera, but close enough to where he was somewhat paying attention to the reporter interviewing him.Â
âyou sure you don't wanna come with me?â he asked after the last interview.
âmatt, i promise she does not wanna go into a locker room with you and your sweaty teammates,â taryn chirped. âiâm sure you can survive without seeing her for a little bit.â
he didnât look convinced.
âwhenever you're finished, iâll be ready to do whatever you want. iâm here for a week.â
his eyes lit up right before he kissed you again. âfuck yes.â
you laughed and pushed him away. âgo celebrate with your teammates, weâll be ready when you are.â
he glanced over his shoulder at his teammates and then back at you. âi love you.â he started moving backwards but kept his eyes trained solely on you, not a care in the world as to who he was bumping into. âand don't think iâm not gonna say something about you driving eighteen and a half hours.â
he knew the time it took?
âhowâd you know how long i drove?â
a familiar smirk graced his lips. âbaby, i always know how far you are from me.â
âyouâre both sickening,â taryn joked as matt disappeared down the tunnel.
âmaybe, but i love him.â
#matthew tkachuk x reader#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk#nhl blurb#nhl imagines#nhl imagine
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Ngl I feel like I'm gonna screw up with my contact person at the internship soon. My luck has been way too good, and so it will have to come down with a vengence at some point, and I can see many signs pointing to this becoming the straw that breaks the camel's back :'3
We'll be upping my hours and extending my internship which is all well and good ... however, given that I didn't expect having my internship after november 15 I now have at least 2 shifts that I would like to rearrange (being top op consultation on november 22, participation in study on november 26, plus if we extend once more I have to ask for time off for the zagreb- plus the polish trip in december 2-4 and december 16-18 but honestly the last two is probably easier to ask for vacation if I am not out too late for that).
I have been feeling like a failure in adulting since the meeting this morning where I was told to probably keep the concert going to a minimum and accept that being an adult means having responsibility and now what do I have to do? Write to my contact person again asking for more changes just because we switched the days around.
I am really scared I might have to cancel either Zagreb or the polish trips. I really don't want to but I don't want to test my boss and her patience too much either if it means I'd never be allowed to change shifts around again ever.
Had my second meeting about how it goes on the internship and it was really positive (to the point I almost cried of being praised so much); however my mind decided that this was the two most important things and it just goes to show how one can always rethink things into critic (even tho I knew both already it hurts to be reminded đ
)
1) I am not far from ambitious enough and it is bad that Idk what I dream of in terms of work
2) my safe space with going to concerts is irresponsible and I should be better at keeping it to weekend or holidays
#back to this movie having perfect gifs for my angst moments#I really hope I am worrying for nothing but I fear that my luck is running low#at some point it will turn and after the meeting I dread the incoming backlash more than ever#I cannot state enough how seeing K and JO and the fans means to me - being with you is one of the times I feel most alive#however I want my healthcare too and the top op surgery is one I have wanted to have for what seems like forever#how can I tell my boss that already having asked (and admitted it was because of concerts - you know like an idiot) for changes of shifts#twice within two weeks#and now it seems like I'd have to do the same for november#ffs#I hate this#I hate confrontations#rejection sensitivity dysphoria is in high gear#please let this turn out okay#I really dont want to jeopadize this internship since people are so nice and lenient and easy going#and if I fail at this because my priorities are whack am I then back to failing at adulthood/life?#if only I could wake up tomorrow having already asked and gotten a go ahead#I also need to speak with my social worker about how to book vacation#and hear how much I was allowed again#bc if I end up taking a week (3 days for each trip) will that ruin my possible top op recovery time?#will I have the option to book time off around my birthday in case the boys actually have a concert by then?#am I stupid for not thinking about this before? probably#i should go to bed but I am afraid I won't be sleeping well#for once not because of happy pre concert nerves but because of this#I am venting again#micahs thoughts
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b1fada2698ed2682f98f12be36f9852b/7311dd59e19a1c3e-56/s540x810/956c86a060375be2d94c73c18dc7c0a1e85693c2.jpg)
DOUBLE TEAM. JJK / M!READER
summary. vigilantism comes in many flavours. jungkook, you, and your parasite come together like a neapolitan sundae.
wc. 17k
tags. smut | mcu spider-man!jk, venom!reader, loootta plot. top reader, bottom jk, established relationship, college au, bloody violence at one point, basketballer!reader, sex toys, mention of handcuffs (on reader), oral, rimming (jk receiving), multiple orgasms, manhandling, venom takes over sometime so it's basically a threesome, size difference, rough sex, lots of come
note: here, the venom/reader biology is less of a suit and more like they morph between shapes at a molecular level to whatever extent they want (bit of body horror)
"wow, he's so handsome..."
"yeah, did you see his results last semester? i can see why he managed to get that internship so young. crazy."
"internship? i heard he was given a job there. like, actually â not as a coffee-and-clipboard boy. proper stuff."
dappled under the shade of a large oak tree, jungkook fixes the earbuds in his ears, scrawling down a few lines for his chemistry homework. he pauses to close his eyes, head bobbing as he jams quietly along to his music. he pushes his soft bangs back from his eyes, a breeze running its fingers gently through his loose locks.
"god, gorgeous and a genius... d'you think my mom would like him?"
"girl, go tell him your name before you start planning the wedding! he's not with anybody. it's the perfect time!"
a slender girl in a pleated tartan skirt and a cropped black vest top sidles up to the end of the bench. she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles shyly, tilting down slightly in an effort to maintain discretion. "hi... can i talk to you for a moment?"
jungkook shuts his folder and rises to his feet, dusting off his blue jeans. he tosses his backpack over his shoulder and hurries down the small grassy mound, checking his cracked phone screen for the time. he slips past a girl in a tartan skirt and places his hand on your shoulder.
"hey, yn," he greets. "we still on for tonight's study sesh?"
you beam, brightening at the sight of him. you prop the basketball on your hip under your arm. "hey! yeah, of course. oh, i was thinking of bringing some sausage rolls to do in your oven, a chicken salad for 'dessert' â it's more chicken than salad, though, i gotta admit. you mind?"
"no, 'course not â as long as you share. speaking of, i'm starving." casually, he leans up and drops a kiss on your cheek, cupping your jaw. he begins to move off, walking backwards to give you a pointed look. "remember: my place, five-thirty! be there or be square!"
you roll your eyes, smiling fondly. "yeah, yeah â i love you!"
he turns around, forming a heart with his hands and pursing his lips. he nearly bumps into someone, apologising profusely with animated hands. you scoff and roll your eyes, shifting the basketball in your grip and turning back to the girl.
"sorry about that. what did you want to talk about?"
her face is beet red. "o-oh â um, i-it's okay. nothing. sorry to bother you."
you frown, inspecting her with concern. "are you sure? it's not a bother."
behind you, your teammates holler at you to get back in the game. you toss the ball at one and give them the finger. they 'ooh' back at you, laughing amongst themselves as they dribble the ball between them and take lazy shots at the hoop.
"they're animals. don't worry about them." you smile encouragingly at her.
she shakes her head, long hair swaying around her cheekbones. "n-no, it's okay! um â have a good day!"
before you can get another word in, she scampers off to her gaggle of friends, clutching her bag to her side as they engulf her and begin moving off to the library.
you scratch your head but shrug, turning back to the court. you jog towards the others, and they offer every greeting from 'good trip to venus?' to 'get off the fucking court'. you just huff, punching their shoulders, and catch the ball with a soft thump.
"sorry, sorry. i'll send them your way next time."
after your decidedly unrelaxed game, chasing jungkook into the campus centre's cafeteria is the next priority. you find him alone at a round white table, staring at his phone, held landscape.
you pull out a seat from a neighbouring table and flip it around, straddling it backwards as he takes out one earbud and smiles up at you. you nudge his arm and grin, tilting your head at his phone. "finally tracked down your scent. what're you watching, sweetcheeks?"
"local news." he squeaks his chair closer to yours and unplugs his earbuds from the jack, letting them dangle from the neck of his science pun shirt under a zip-up hoodie. "you know the new guy around these parts? a couple of criminals are saying his name is venom."
"venom? is he?"
"is he what?"
"venomous," you clarify. "he's certainly got the teeth for it."
jungkook snorts, grabbing his bottle of iced tea and balancing his phone against it. "i don't think so. he just scares the crap out of people. heard he used to make snacks out of people, though. metal."
"shame. venom powers would be neat," you reply, crossing your arms over the back of the chair and propping your chin on them. "what's the news talking about?"
"mostly, it's just gossip." he shrugs. "'is venom the new spider-man?' 'are spider-man and venom working together?' they say it's 'cause they share some similarities â methods of movement, areas of control. thoughts?"
you inhale deeply. "well, i can't say much, but i will admit that venom does look pretty damn sick." you point at the video clip the news story plays of a huge black figure loping along the sides of buildings. he grabs a cop cruiser in one clawed fist and hurls it at a supervillain, who currently rots away in the raft. "ooh, shit!"
jungkook scoffs, shoving your shoulder. he grins. "so you only like him because he looks cool? not because of his ideals or worldview or anything? i understand, i like 'em big, but you're being a little reductive."
"i'm just a pretty face. i am completely unable to consider anything deeper than the cool factor." you rake his lean body with your gaze and smirk. "have i told you how good you look today?"
"baby, you can't abuse your boyfriend privileges to get out of this debate," jungkook murmurs, leaning in against your lips with a smile. "what do you think of spider-man?"
"eh. six outta ten."
"six?" jungkook sputters, jerking away. "what? you â but he's totally more than a six! eight, at least! do you realise how much math he has to do on the fly while he's swinging around? and i think he looks pretty cool, y'know. the fact that his ears don't stick out of the mask is pretty high-tech, if you ask me."
"easily recognisable, unique silhouette, cool colours." you list them off on your fingers. "both spider-man and venom fit these categories. venom, however, has the intimidation stat maxed out."
"spider-man is totally intimidating," jungkook protests. "i don't like spiders. what if he has secret spider-controlling powers and can corral them into doing his bidding? that's terrifying."
"sure, if you have a thing against spiders. i will say, though: i like that he deals with petty crime. the avengers aren't gonna bother themselves with purse-snatchers and bike theft."
jungkook hums. "finally â something we can agree on. aliens aren't falling from the sky every day."
you share a smile and jungkook shuts off his phone, leaning closer and placing his arms across your part of the table. your noses touch, and he giggles softly as you capture his lips in a tease of a kiss. he tastes like the white icing of his bakery snack.
"wanna go back to yours early?" you murmur, nosing at his neck. his cologne is faint, light and fresh. he's always been sensitive to smell. "we can go out for dinner instead. or take out â i'm easy."
"yeah, i know you're easy," he teases, nibbling on your lower lip. "one kiss and you're already begging to come home with me."
you gasp, offended. "how dare you! just because i am captain of the basketball team and extremely sexy does not mean i am an expert in mattress brands. apologise."
"mm... no."
"apologise!"
"do you take cash," he rests his palm against the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his, "or card?" he ghosts his palm over the front of your pants.
"oh, you little minx," you growl playfully, grabbing his phone off of the table and him by his wrist. "c'mon. you got your helmet?"
he grins and nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "right here."
"good." as you run out of the cafeteria, dragging your giggling boyfriend after you, you lean in, kissing the apple of his cheek. his skin is warm, flushed and pretty. "i'd fuck you in it if it didn't stop me from kissing you."
he gasps. "come again?"
"oh, you know i will be. now, on the bike â hold tight onto me. no hands in the pants this time."
he blows a raspberry, swinging your hands between your bodies. "buzzkill."
â
with a heavy thump, you drop your bag and jungkook's at the base of his desk. his tiny studio apartment is sparsely decorated, but you've come to view it as a place of simple peace and comfort. he clings to you easily, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you carry him to his king-single bed. it's not large enough to fit both of you side by side, meaning that jungkook tends to stack himself on top of you when he snoozes.
"i'm noticing you like to carry me everywhere these days," jungkook whispers, grinning as he sucks on your neck, bruising the skin.
"mhm," you reply breathily, placing him down on his bed and hovering an inch over his body. he wraps his legs around your thighs and pulls your crotch against his. "i've been working out my core. results are finally showing."
jungkook grins darkly, pushing your dark grey letterman jacket off of your shoulders. you help him, shrugging it off. "really? let me have a look, baby."
you kneel back and tug your shirt over your head, revealing planes of soft warm skin. jungkook moans at the sight, tossing off his own clothes all over his apartment in his hurry. he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle, and plants kisses up your stomach and chest, leading to a soft peck on the bulb of your throat. it bobs as he tucks his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent with a soft hum. he draws back slightly.
"did you change your cologne, honey?" he lowers his face again, a cute furrow between his brows and a thoughtful pout on his lips. "you smell different."
"uh â no, i don't think so," you reply, struggling to keep your head on straight when jungkook's hands are venturing down the front of your pants. "could be a new formula."
"mm, yeah, you're right," he whispers, licking his lips as he grips your bulge a little harder, making your hips jolt into his palm. he grins, eyes twinkling with innocent amusement. "hah. you're cute when you're sensitive."
your cheeks warm at the sound of his smooth, lilting voice, dropped lower than usual. arousal stirs deep in your gut. "shut up..."
he coos, gazing up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum. "unused to compliments, baby?"
"n-no, i'm just... not used to people calling me cute."
jungkook's grin widens and he nibbles on his lower lip as he gropes your hardening length through the thick denim of your jeans, his own straining against the zipper. "big boys like you need more love. can i... give you some love?"
his cheeks tint pink when he says that last part, barely a whisper. he's so flirty, yet so shy, and it's a dichotomy you have yet to figure out. still, it's so endearing watching him blush at his own flirtations.
you nod wordlessly, only finding your voice after a moment or two. "yeah. please."
he giggles and tucks his knees under himself to touch his lips to yours. it's surprisingly chaste despite the way he's feeling up your cock, trying to locate every vein and curve through thick denim.
"i bought something the other day," he begins, stroking your hip as he grinds the heel of his palm into your bulge. "i was wondering if you'd like to try it out with me right now."
"you bought something...?" a dark urge to encircle his tiny waist with both hands and fuck him stupid nearly makes you black out. it fills you up from the centre outwards and rams against your ribs like taking huge lungfuls of air, one after another, without allowing yourself to breathe out.
the pressure vanishes as soon as it comes, simmering instead in the pit of your stomach. you kneel on the bed with shaking hands, reeling inside your mind.
"yeah. something for us to play with." he smiles. "or, something for me to play with and for you to enjoy."
"oh," you exhale, barely a wisp of a breath. "you want me to watch?"
your cock stirs at the idea. he's shown himself off for you before using just his hands, and even that felt thick with sin and filth. you don't know how you'd react if he used something else.
"yeah, but it isn't quite what you're thinking. you always please me and forget about yourself, and i wanted to do the same. it's really self-indulgent for me â i've been imagining this for a while. ah, maybe i should just show it to you instead of trying to be all cryptic and mysterious." he laughs at himself and motions for you to stay put. he swings his legs over the small bed and reaches for his bedside drawer, atop which lies a shoebox-sized black box. he picks it up and places it on the sheets in front of you.
with one hand on the edge of the lid, he lifts his gaze, which flickers nervously over your features. "if it's too much, you can just tell me and we won't ever have to talk about this again."
you shake your head. "it's okay. i just wanna know what it is. i can't stop staring at your lips."
with a chuff of laughter, jungkook licks his lips, a little shy. you've never been one to mince your words, and it's rather soul-baring. he can't help the flutter of his heart when he catches your quick glance down at his lips. "alright, alright... somebody's hungry tonight, isn't he?"
"mm, just for you."
jungkook lifts the box's lid and extracts, with only a second of hesitation, a clear silicone fleshlight.
you always please me and forget about yourself.
i've been imagining this for a while.
"you⊠want to use that... on me," you say, but it's almost a question with how your voice wavers on the last word.
jungkook nods silently.
"but... what about you?" your eyes widen slightly. "wait â is this because i've been really needy recently? are you tired? i'm sorry, i don't know what's gotten into me lately."
he shakes his head quickly. "no, not at all, baby! you could never tire me out â i think your neediness makes you cuter. yes, you're cute, don't give me that face â we went over this already. i just... want to see it more."
"that's why it's transparent?" you ask, unable to hide your amusement. "you want to look at my dick?"
he blushes all the way down his chest. "it's as good a reason as any! can you kiss me? my face is hot and i need a distraction."
like the good boyfriend you are, you oblige, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a slow, deep kiss, prodding your tongue into his willing mouth. he moans as your tongue slides against his own, soft and wet and hot. he places his hands on top of your thighs, your open jeans hanging low to reveal your apollo's belt cinching your hips. he ghosts his palm over the bulge in your boxers as he sucks lightly on your tongue and your whole body shudders like a ship crashing against rocks â the animal, guttural growl that bubbles from the pit in your stomach rumbles in his skull, ferocious lust nearing fury so intense and primal that for a moment jungkook doesn't think it comes from you. as if on instinct, you wrap your arms around jungkook's torso and yank him towards you, pulling his front against yours.
"f-fuck," jungkook nearly whimpers when he pulls away, lashes fluttering as he stares up at you, dark pupils swallowing his irises. he arches his back. you press the flats of your palms against the bumps of his spine. "i didn't know you could make a sound like that..."
"like what?" you murmur, panting softly as you slide your hands under his jeans over the curve of his ass. you push his pants down hurriedly, sloppier than usual. you just... really can't wait.
he shifts his knees to let you take his blue jeans off, his underwear tangled somewhere in the legs. he tilts his head as you bury your face in his neck and shuffle out of your own pants, leaving you both naked on jungkook's single bed â except for your socks. his bed's barely big enough for one person, and with both of you, you're struggling not to slip off. you'll have to be careful if you roll over.
"like... never mind." he shakes his head, staring down with tangible anticipation at the thick length bobbing between your thighs. he's not small, but fuck, you make him feel that way. "just c'mere, please."
"so polite," you chuckle, watching him squirt a generous amount of lube into the toy.
"only for you, honey," he hums. he holds the toy slightly away from his stomach, as if suddenly unsure what to do with it. his indecision only lasts for a moment before those big brown eyes raise to yours. "lay down. we'll do it this way."
"mm. can't refuse the view you'll give me."
he swings his leg over your lap, smiling shyly as he grips your length in one hand. he tears his gaze from yours to sink the entrance of the sleeve down around your cockhead, teasing the glans. he takes about a third of your cock into the toy, glancing up to gauge your reaction. he finds only pleasure in your expression and, emboldened, moves the toy faster, rolling his wrist the same way he strokes you. the toy squelches as it slides down around the middle of your shaft, lube dribbling down the veins of your dick.
"fuck, that's cold," you whisper, acutely aware of how your cock pulses.
jungkook places a soothing hand on your tense thigh, rubbing what you think is meant to be relaxing circles into your skin â except he does it a little too high, a little too close to your dick, and relaxing's the last thing on your mind.
"it's alright," he hums, "you'll warm it up."
you huff at his nonchalance but lay back down, tucking one hand under your head to help bolster his cloud-soft pillows. you could sink in his pillows, drown in them. your other hand rests on his bare thigh.
"good boy," he says cheekily, fucking your cock with the slick toy. it's knobbly on the inside, and almost too tight â but the pain's pleasurable, especially when he gazes down at you with such loving eyes.
"call me that again and i'll out-brat you," you mumble, hissing softly as he slides the toy all the way down. your throbbing cock leaks, and watching it through the silicone makes your skin flush. evidently, he feels the same, staring at it with such intensity you're not sure whether you should feel afraid or aroused.
you decide on the latter.
"you? a brat? you don't have it in you," he says dismissively, stroking and squeezing your balls. he pulls the toy off and swipes his thumb over your leaking slit, gathering all the precum he can. he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it clean.
god, it's always the quiet ones â always the shy ones. your boyfriend, with his alliterative name and baggy jeans and zip-up hoodies, used to be too nervous to initiate things with you â what if you weren't in the mood? what if you didn't find him attractive? but after the first time, after you worshipped his body and got drunk off his pleasure, you seemed to unlock something in him â something dirty and saccharine.
"what â mm â what do you mean?" you ask breathily, closing your eyes as he returns the toy to your length, the squelching lube and precum dripping down your shaft.
"you're too in love with me and too soft. you couldn't hurt a fly. besides, big boy, i noticed how you tensed up when i told you how good you were being for me. did you learn something about yourself?" he teases.
you shake your head, flushing slightly. "i just... like pleasing you."
jungkook's smile grows softer, less coy. his eyes crinkle as he leans down to kiss you briefly, humming gently. "i like pleasing you, too. you can come when you want â don't hold back for me, m'kay?"
"okay."
fuck... you've never seen a prettier sight than this, the angel on your lap totally focussed on making you feel good. he shuffles down your body until his face is level with your cock, and you give him a little more room to lay down by shifting to sit against the headboard. he smiles up at you gratefully, watching closer as the fleshlight swallows up your thick cock again and again. arousal swirls low in his belly as you groan lowly, head tipping back.
bent at the knee, his feet kick absently behind him, ankles crossed. he takes your balls into his hot, wet mouth, sucking softly at the velvety skin as his wrist twists firmly around your dick. he looks so innocent, but the things he's making you feel certainly aren't.
"you're... you're gonna make me come," you groan softly, "doin' that with your pretty mouth..."
"oh? so soon? are you just exceptionally pent up," he drags his tongue against the veins of your cock, "or are you more into this toy than i am?"
"no, you just â oh, shit â you look so good like that. you're so fuckin' pretty with those eyes, those gorgeous lips that i know're so soft â drives me damn near crazy, jus' wanna fuck you all the timeâ" you're babbling, you know that, feeling your high creep up on you mercilessly. it's almost embarrassing, you can last longer than this, but something inside you is just so damn hungry, so eager. it draws in your lust to a dark bottomless pit in your stomach, gorged with all the pleasure jungkook's giving you but still greedy for more, more, more.
you reach down and hastily twirl jungkook's hair into a short, messy ponytail. you pull him into you, making him moan and his hips jerk â he sucks on your balls, taking each into his mouth one at a time, pumping your cock until the toy leaks with your precum, dripping with it. he licks it up wantonly, gliding his hot tongue over your veins until the whole thing glistens with saliva and lube.
he pants softly, stroking your cock faster until your whole body aches with the will not to give in â you grip the wooden headboard above you to ground yourself, struggling not to lose to the heat and wetness of jungkook's mouth and touch.
you can't. you're better than this. but god is your mind foggy with lust, feeling him lap at your balls like an overexcited puppy, feeling his toy grip your cock so enthusiastically. you want to feel him around you, feel his heat, his walls, real tight and greedy â want to taste him, lick the sweat off his hips, taste your own come on his lips like some filthy exchange of power, prove to him that you're the only one he wants, the only one who'll take such good care of himâ
the dam crumples. your spine arches; the world goes white.
when your eyes flutter open â you swear you didn't close them â jungkook's sitting up, dazed and wearing the heaviest blush you've ever seen on him, red from his chest to his ears. his chest heaves, his breath shaky, and a few smears of what looks suspiciously like come cover his cheeks and neck. he hasn't wiped it off yet.
"b... baby..." jesus, your voice is fried. you clear your throat, rather painfully, and try again. "why're you lookin' at me like that...?"
he doesn't say anything for a moment, those huge doe eyes stuck on you. finally, he tears his gaze away, covering his mouth slightly â a jerky half-move that suggests he doesn't really know what to do with himself.
"um," he says softly, his voice a little unsteady, "th-the... the toy â it broke..."
after a second, you frown, still dopey and cotton-brained. maybe you should've done something in the last two weeks instead of postponing it until you could next get jungkook alone. "what? what do you mean, it... broke?"
he extends it to show you. down the side is a long crack, and the closed end is split open. you don't know what to say â you don't know what anyone would say â but by the way jungkook's looking at you, it's clear he wants something.
"do you think they'd refund us for a faulty product?"
clearly, that's not the right thing to say, because he pouts aggressively.
"you got bigger when you came," he mumbles, sweeping his index finger over his cheek and sticking it in his mouth as he glances up at you. he doesn't know how much that casual motion affects you. "like... real big. i didn't know your voice could get that deep, either. it was... kinda hot..."
you don't... remember talking... "did i say something?"
"mm. you pushed my head down and told me i looked good like that. that i was good to you â to us."
"us?" you repeat, an empty dread dropping in your stomach like a stone. you try to hide your dismay, but jungkook has always been particularly receptive to your emotions. either that, or you're just really easy to read.
"it's okay, why are you afraid? it didn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. i like it when you're rough."
something in the back of your mind preens at that. you shake your head. "alright â yeah. just â i'm sorry for ruining it. i'll pay you back for it."
"don't worry about it. you paid for our last few dinners, so think of this as my turn to pay." he giggles and flushes, leaning closer and straddling your waist. "besides... i got something out of it, too." he takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach. you have to think past the firm muscle of it to notice that it's warm and sticky. he slides his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his flustered grin. "i really like it when you're rough."
it's enough to make your dick twitch to life again, but part of you is still rattled by how easily you just... gave up control.
"i'm glad you liked it," you say softly, "but i don't want to do that again. i don't want to hurt you."
he scoffs, grinning as he comes to sit beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip in his narrow bed. "you couldn't hurt me if you tried, baby. i'm stronger than i look. but okay â i get it. do you wanna cuddle in bed for a while, catch our breath?"
you hum softly, burying your head in his shoulder. he strokes your hair. "yeah... but maybe after a shower."
he laughs softly, pushing you off the bed towards the bathroom. he splays out on his back to make sure you don't come creeping back into his arms. "what, city boy, can't handle a little mess?"
"of course, hate that shit. i'd live in a lab if i could."
"how scientist of you. i can see why you joined the life foundation â the entire place looks like a hospital, just with more skylights."
"mm, definitely feel like a doctor, scrubbing my arms up to the elbows every day." you pick up a towel from the stack in jungkook's wardrobe.
"sounds fun. maybe i'll join you, scrub your arms for you."
"don't," you say quickly. you clear your throat, wiping the panic from your voice. "you'll ruin your pretty hands working there. all the soap makes even moisturising painful."
he arches a brow, but doesn't say anything. instead, he hums and turns his gaze to the ceiling. "guess i'm stuck with mister stark, then."
"hey, they're doing some cool stuff with prosthetics right now, and you get to fix the avengers' gear. the avengers, man. you shouldn't sound so sad. have you met thor yet?"
"not yet. the guy's a prince â pretty sure he was better things to do than say hello to some puny human."
"ah, well. at least you're doing something â i'm wasting my life away being someone's assistant."
he watches you for a while as you gather new clothes from your drawer in his wardrobe. he rolls onto his side to keep watching you when you move out of his vision.
"are you okay, honey?" he asks quietly, gazing up at you. "are you still upset over the toy? i told you, i don't mind. it was kinda hot, to be honest..."
you glance over your bare shoulder. he bats his eyelashes and winks. you huff. "you think everything i do is hot. i could sit down and you'd drool over my posture or something."
"how'd you know i like the way you sit? you take up so much space. in a good way, of course! i â i wish i had your confidence."
you soften at the very real vulnerability he displays. not just everyone gets to know his thoughts and feelings. you glance at the towel in your hand and back at him â with a soft sigh, you set your clothes aside and return to the bed, smiling as jungkook's face lights up like a star.
"oh, that was easy," he says flirtatiously, stroking his fingers up and down your chest as you lay down next to him on the pillows.
"i'm your boyfriend, i'm trained to do this," you hum, bearing the discomfort of the chilly stickiness for jungkook's soft gaze, trained on you. the playfulness falls from your tone as you reach up and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "you're so beautiful, you know that?"
he giggles bashfully and turns his face into your shoulder, shuffling closer to hide his red cheeks. "gosh, what a charmer. did i do something to turn you all mushy?"
you shrug, cuddling him close to your chest. "not particularly. looking at you just makes me really, really happy."
his eyes crinkle as he smiles, leaning up and kissing your throat. "you big sap... i love you, too."
you bury your nose in his soft dark mop of hair and close your eyes. you don't want to think about how small he feels in your arms, your little finely-muscled dancer. you don't want to think about how easily he can take over now, and how fragile jungkook would be if he wrapped his hands around him.
you only let the feisty parasite stick around so you can better protect jungkook. sure, you have to keep it well-fed with brain matter in exchange, but anything's a fine trade if you can keep your darling safe. with all these genocidal aliens and egomaniacal scientists running about, to make sure this one particular civilian doesn't get trapped under a fallen building, you can't count on anyone else except yourself.
â
no matter how many times jungkook gets slammed into concrete, getting mashed through three floors of an office building in lower manhattan will never stop hurting like hell. even his pride is a little bruised â getting so beat up by the scorpion was almost embarrassing. he'd managed to subdue mac gargan â again â but his mind had been elsewhere during the fight, leading to gargan landing more than a few avoidable hits.
he stumbles slightly when he lands on the fire escape with a soft thump. gripping his bleeding side, he pushes his bedroom window up and slips inside, hissing as a broken rib pokes a nerve. he shuts the blinds of his window and pulls off his mask, breathing easier without it.
finding the time to fix his suit is going to be a pain. he has so many assignments due and so little time.
he limps out of his darkened bedroom, bracing against the door frame for support. he flicks on the bathroom light with a sigh and wanders over to the sink, sparing a glance into the mirror.
great: a big ol' bruise on his cheek, little cuts all over. nothing would heal in time for his chem lab the next day.
he peels the suit off his upper half, too sore to even attempt bending down to pull it off his legs. turning in the mirror shows him the massive purple bruise covering his back and shoulders, green around the edges. he makes a face and it hurts.
guess he's sleeping on his stomach tonight. he pulls the mirror forward, opening up the cupboard behind it, and raises himself onto his toes to reach the first-aid kit on the top shelf, right next to your shaving razor and other bathroom essentials. the small green bag is stuffed full to bursting with gauze, antiseptic, and thread, and maybe it was a blessing to live in criminal-infested new york because you never asked why he had so much on hand.
keys jingle. "hey, baby? are you home already?"
shitshitshitfuckshitâ
you peek around the bathroom entrance, your hoodie singed around the edges and smelling faintly of rocket fuel. you frown at the opened first aid kit, cotton pads and saline sitting by the sink, and turn briefly to set the groceries down in the kitchen behind you. you enter the bathroom and glance around at only white tile and glass.
you glance up behind the door and jump three feet out of your skin.
"jesus christâ! what the fuck?" you shout.
jungkook motions haggardly, pressing his finger to his lips with wide eyes. he's backed into the corner of the ceiling â what the fuck â wearing the red-and-blue suit of new york's spider-man â what the actual fuckâ and looks like he lost a fight to a brick wall.
what. the. shit.
"pleasepleaseplease don't scream," he whisper-shouts. "sh-shh-shh â let's be normal about this!"
"normal?" you hiss, aggression bleeding into your fear. "ex-cuse me?"
"just don't yell! please." he drops down from the ceiling with one hand and you jerk back, the scene in front of you proven real. "you weren't supposed to find out this way."
"weren't supposed to â this way â what?"
he presses on the spider in the centre of his chest and the whole thing loosens like a deflated balloon, hanging off of his bruised arms. "honey, please don't be angryâ"
"angry? angry?" you bark out an incredulous laugh. "i'm fucking furious! you're spider-man? my boyfriend is spider-man?"
he swallows harshly, lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. he nods almost imperceptibly.
"spider-man's been around for years. how long have you been doing this? since fifteen, sixteen?"
"four â fourteen..."
silence.
"you're mad," you say flatly. "actually mad. fourtâ" you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you know what, instead of getting upset about how young you were when you first went about punching bike thieves for funsies, i'm going to get upset about the fact that you're bleeding all over yourself. what happened to you?"
"it wasn't for fun," he mumbles. "it was a morals thing. and, um, scorpion tried killing the ol' triple-jay, so i had to step in. the police should have him by now."
"the scorpion? well, we'll be seeing you on tonight's news, then. i'll be able to see exactly how he got you so messed up."
he flushes at your accusing tone, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, honey. i meant to tell you⊠i just didn't know how, or when. i was so scared of the wrong people finding out and⊠and hurting you."
slowly, you release a deep sigh, and with it goes your anger. "the last thing you should be worried about is anyone hurting me. you should be worried about you. is this what you look like after every fight?"
he shakes his head. "it's not usually so bad. he just got some lucky hits in. i heal quickly, anyway."
placing a tentative hand on his cheek, you turn his face this way and that to examine his wounds. your hand shifts to take the point of his chin under your thumb and he stares up at you with such sweet, sorry eyes, brimming with glossy apologies.
"can't you put down the mask?" you almost plead. "let someone else do it. someone who's got more help than you do."
"who, like the avengers? they only really do world-ending threats, and for all gargan's bluster, he's not that."
you cup his neck and gently run your thumb over his jawline, careful of his wounds. "you⊠you mean so much to me. i love you something crazy," you whisper, voice dropping to a raw, almost tired rasp. he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around you, resting your foreheads together. "i know i'm selfish, but i don't want to lose you."
"i'll always come home," he murmurs. "i promise. for you, nothing could keep me away. someone has to keep greedy people out of your pants."
you can't help but loose a weak chuckle at that. "i'm yours, baby. will you let me patch you up?"
he nods, gripping your shoulder as you help him step out of the suit. he sucks in a breath when he bends too far in a certain way but attempts a smile when you glance up at him.
"don't worry about it. you'll make me right as rain in no time, won't you, doc?"
"you're going to make me grey with worry," you mumble, straightening up and reaching for the cotton pads and antiseptic. those cuts need tending to. you dab the damp cotton pad onto his brow, gently holding his head in place by cupping the nape of his neck. "hold still, baby."
"'m sorry. stings a little."
"how's it going to feel when i get to that massive scrape on your side?"
he winces at the idea. "if you leave it alone, it'll heal by itselfâŠ"
"you beggin' me to not touch it? thought you were the amazing spider-man."
"spider-man eats punches and springs back up with a quip. jungkook gets sweaty hands when approaching the cashier. jungkook's a bitch when it comes to pain."
your hand pauses slightly, then presses harder than necessary on his busted lip. he flinches and whines. "you're still you in the suit, sweetheart. if spider-man can take it, so can you."
"thure," he mumbles thickly, the cotton pad obscuring his words. you move onto the tiny cuts caused by flying shards of glass and he braces himself, gripping your forearms tightly. "so⊠you're not mad anymore�"
"no, i'm still furious," you reply. "i just want you in one piece before i rip into you."
he has the gall to giggle nervously. "that's a joke, isn't it?"
you glance down at him and he quietens, suitably chastised.
eventually, after taking care of his wounds and sitting him down at the small dinner table to make him a cup of hot chocolate, you speak up. "every time you came home with a black eye or split lip and told me you got mugged on the way home or tripped on the stairs, it was because of spider-man, wasn't it?"
jungkook fiddles with his sweater sleeves. "yeah."
"you lied to me."
he picks at a loose thread and swallows. "yeahâŠ"
"i always wondered how you healed so fast." you set down the steaming mug in front of him and take a seat across from him, watching him cup the mug in both hands and take tiny sips from it. you cross your arms and look away.
that's the last thing you say for a long while. you stare at the table, mouth twitching every so often as if you want to say something but can't find the right words for it.
"i want to go to bed," you say suddenly, rising to your feet as if pulled by puppet strings. "it's been a long day. come⊠come join me when you're ready."
jungkook nods and his throat bobs, turning his gaze into the swirling whirlpool in the mug. he whispers, "okay, baby. i'll be there."
you nod and take a step backwards, then another, before turning around and heading into jungkook's bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
jungkook stares at the closed door for a while. he can hear you mumbling, then pausing, and mumbling again, but even for his enhanced hearing, it's too quiet for him to discern. he doesn't know if he wants to know at all â it's probably better if he doesn't know what you're thinking.
he sighs softly, swirling the remnants of his not-so-hot chocolate in his mug. at least you don't hate him, which is more than he could have asked for. you're sleeping in his room, too, and that must mean something.
he hopes you won't leave in the morning.
â
it always starts as a normal day. things don't turn out as you hope they will.
"spider-man's here! spider-man's fighting the sandman!"
you'd been sitting in a ramen restaurant, sipping a pineapple smoothie with your noodle bowl, when the ground-shuddering booms grew close enough to be noticeable. the tv wired up against the wall showed the developing story, with helicopter shots showing flint marko's massive sandy form, bellowing in fury at the tiny red-and-blue figure thwipping around the skyscrapers to avoid hurled cement and rebar.
you can see the same thing out the restaurant window.
civilians scatter, panic and chaos causing a din. people shove past you, and the smart ones don't hang around to whip out their phones. you can taste the dryness in the air, the thick desert-like heat compressing inwards and crackling in your fingertips. sand-marko roars in rage and surges forward like a wave, crumpling cars like tissue paper.
YN.
the low, grating voice is loud in your head, overruling every scream in every direction.
THAT'S A BIG BAD GUY. LET'S FIGHT HIM.
"i'm looking at that church tower, man. he's getting close. the bell's the perfect shape to throw."
COWARD, venom roars in your head. YOU WON'T FIGHT TO SAVE OUR SPIDER?
"i'm not a coward," you snap, dodging an i-bar thrown like a javelin. it pierces the restaurant window. "he's got it covered. he's fought sandman a few times, knows his weaknesses."
if he could, venom would narrow his eyes at you. WE KNOW WHO HE IS. WHY CAN'T HE KNOW WHO WE ARE, YN?
"because we've killed people," you hiss, sprinting towards marko's mammoth form. a barefoot woman in a business suit screams for help, fruitlessly tugging the arm of another woman pinned inside the foyer of a law firm's brick building. "heroes don't do that."
venom forms a simple black face mask and cap over your face to hide your identity a little more. a large pile of concrete chunks from the caved-in floors above trap the woman in a tiny space under a table, where she'd dived for cover. you reach out and an oily black tendril shoots out, smashing a falling chunk of concrete to dust before it can crush the barefoot woman. she doesn't notice among all the other falling debris outside and spots you.
"please, help us!" she cries with a face smeared with ash. "her leg's pinned!"
you run up to them, gripping the edge of the largest chunk of concrete, snapped steel bars sticking out at angles. venom envelops your fist and spreads along the underside of the chunk, giving you more leverage to push it high enough to allow the woman to crawl through. her left leg is smeared with blood, soaking into her pantyhose. she limps out, leaning heavily on the other woman, who stares mutely as you set the concrete slab back down with a grunt and venom slinks back into your skin.
"thanks," she whispers, finding your eyes under the cap. you nod silently, and she helps the other woman hobble out of the ruin that once was a building.
you turn your attention back to the sandman. he's further away, and you notice how jungkook's leading him towards buildings with water towers. most of them are apartment complexes, and with the speed they're moving, there's going to be no shortage of civilians in danger.
"we'll focus on getting people out. spider-man will focus on wrangling the sandman. teamwork makes the dream work." you race towards marko, dodging all the people running the opposite way. if you were smart, you'd follow them, but you're not smart, and venom roars encouragement and puppets your body in the direction of civilians in need when you miss them.
with a bellow like a thousand boulders through glass, marko smashes jungkook through the roof of the train station, the famous, golden grand central terminal. you happen to be there, helping a family find each other through the chaos.
when jungkook wheezes and struggles to his feet, his gaze passes over you â then snaps back. the eyes of his mask widen, and he looks as if he's about to run to you â before marko slams him along the ground with a huge fist of sand.
there are still civilians in the station, trapped underground where the floors have caved in on the stairs to the platforms. on the lowest level, you manage to nudge aside a large piece of steel and concrete, reaching down to a terrified father cradling two little boys in his arms. they flinch back when the debris shifts dangerously, sand swirling in the air above.
"take them," the man pleads, "take my kids â please! i'll wait it out down here. i won't make it through that gap."
"are you kidding?" you shout above the din of battle and distant sirens, eyes widening. booms shake the ground and the walls, reverberating in your bones. "the tunnels might collapse!"
"i'll take that chance," he calls back, ushering forward his older son. he turns to him and grips his shoulder. the boy's in tears, babbling to his dad not to leave him. grimly, he pushes him towards you, and the boy hangs off of your arm as you lift him next to you through the gap in the debris. it's barely big enough for the width of his shoulders, and it'll take too long to clear it all before marko might do something that'll crush or suffocate you all.
the man lifts the infant towards you. you strain to reach for the crying baby, hidden tendrils of black mass extending out of your back and shoulders focussed on keeping the weight off of you and the child sobbing next to you. you take the baby under the arms and hold him to your chest, feeling venom form a wrap carrier around the child. he has enough foresight to turn your jacket into the wrap for appearances later.
the air is getting hot, hard to breathe through the dust, and venom shapes a simple face mask over the baby's mouth and nose to filter the air. the baby stops crying almost immediately with his influence.
with another rattling boom shaking your roots, you peer through the hole, gripping the back of the older boy's sweatshirt to keep him close and steady. "i'm coming back. stay alive."
with that, venom leverages the steel frame away, allowing you to crawl out from beneath it. the young boy clutches your belt as you hurry up what remains of the stairs, coughing in the dry, sandy air.
"vee, how's the baby?" you mutter, running along the lengthy platforms while the fight rages overhead. with every heavy smash, concrete and tiling dust your shoulders, trickling from hairline cracks in the ceiling.
CALM.
"okay⊠kid, when we get up there, you have to close your eyes and mouth, alright? try not to eat any sand."
he sniffles and nods, his grip tightening with resolve.
grand central and several nearby blocks are ruined with huge piles of sand blown into the corners, making the ground hard to run across. the boy slips a few times but you're always there to haul him back up.
half of your attention is on spider-man. even as you're lifting a displaced i-bar from a nearby construction site from the entrance, one eye is on the tiny red-and-blue figure zipping around and a shrinking sandman. marko's patches of dark sand slough off in heavy cascades, enraging him â making him desperate.
you run the children to a nearby police blockade, which is little more than two or three cars parked haphazardly across the road. a fire engine is parked nearby â the older boy screams, "mom!" and stumbles towards a woman in firefighter gear. with the way they embrace and the woman checks him for injuries, you don't have much worry bundling the now-crying infant up in his blanket and pressing him into her arms. you don't wait for swapped words or even eye contact before spinning on your heel and running back towards the ruins of the train station.
"flint! you have to stop this!" jungkook shouts, crashing another water tower down onto him. "what's going on, man?"
"i can't stay here!" marko bellows, his voice like the whip of a hurricane. he flings a billboard at jungkook, which he deftly dodges. "i won't!"
"what are you talking about? why not?" he threads the needle between slabs of debris swirling in marko's storm. "marko, you're going to hurt people!"
in response, he roars, whipping up a sandstorm into a single spear-like point, and hurls it down towards jungkook.
he dodges, pulling himself out of the way just in time, but you don't have his spider-sense. the shaft of the beige spear thrusts through your heart.
jungkook's senses explode until his ears ring. he looks back and screams.
the father's hand slips in yours as your grip loosens. he cries out in horror and blood stains the compressed sand, dripping from the tip.
you can't breathe. the sand collapses where it sits, including in the gaping wound the size of a beer bottle. frantically, venom floods the wound, pushing out the contaminants and creating and stitching your cells back together. but with his attention already divided through holding two tonnes of steel off your back and bolstering your strength to lift the man with one hand, he has to choose his battles. he chooses you â you can feel the power draining from you, your hand slipping around the father's.
you blink, hard, to rid yourself of the dizziness and nausea rising in your gut as venom stitches your heart and lungs and bones back together. you stare down at the man, whose terrified face is splattered with your blood. "i'm going to pull," you rasp, blood spilling from your lips. "your family's safe."
and you pull. you pull and pull, twice as hard because your hands are wet with blood and sweat, and the man finally manages to grab the edges of the hole and clamber out, collapsing beside you.
you push him weakly, hands feeling fat and rubbery. "go," you cough, able to feel the air on your exposed heart. you push him again. "go."
the floor of the station crumbles into a sinkhole over you, blocking you into a tiny space. you slump over, blinking hard with your forehead against the ground to rid yourself of the black spots swimming into your vision.
a cry of your name, and light spears down onto you. jungkook roars with effort as he hauls six feet of steel and concrete off of you and it crashes into the wall of the train station, crumbling into pieces.
he wraps an arm around you and webs the ceiling, lifting you out and hiding behind a corner. he falls to his knees, dragging you towards him by your shoulders with a sob.
"b-baby," he sobs, tremors wracking his shoulders. "baby, no, no, oh, god, i'm so sorry â baby, pleaseâ"
he peels back your black jacket and a wail rips through him at the sight. you keep your bleary gaze on the red of his mask, feeling venom squirm inside your cells, beating on the walls to let him out, to heal you. by sheer fucking willpower you manage to hold him back, burning him whenever he comes too close to the edges of your wound. he roars inside your head, slamming his will against yours in an effort to subdue you, knock you out of the driver's seat.
NO! STOP FIGHTING ME!
he can't know. it would break him.
your lips part to speak. your throat is dry, your tongue too big for your mouth. "you sh-should⊠go fight that bad guyâŠ"
NO!
jungkook rips off his mask. he can't breathe, and his world crumbles around him. tears stream down his cheeks and throat. he gasps, breaths short and wheezing, and cradles you close, rocking your body against his. "no," he hiccups, gloved hands shifting down your chest to clear the cloth around the hole that goes right through. he can see the blue of his suit through it and bile rises in his throat. "no!"
"it's okay," you sigh raggedly, reaching up and groping for his face. you can't see much in the blurry darkness invading your vision. "s'okay⊠'s okay. you can win this. c-come find me⊠laterâŠ"
"fuck that!" he cries, gripping you tighter and obsessively running his hand through your sandy hair, pressing his lips to your temple. his tears are wet and cold against your skin, a small reprieve from the suffocating heat.
he clutches your hand to his cheek, pinning it there. his dark eyes glimmer with fat tears, and you can't help but think it's beautiful how his lashes clump together and the reflections waver in his eyes like the starry sky in a lake. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," he whimpers. "i love you. i love you. please â p-please donât go, please don't leave me â don't close your fucking eyes!" he screams when your gaze slips from his to blink slowly up at the ceiling, each blink getting heavier and heavier; the voice in your head gets harder to ignore. he presses his palm over the gushing wound. "no, no, no, no, noâ! i-i can fix this, okay, you'll be okay! i can fixâ"
a massive sandy club slams into him. he cracks the wall with the force and he groans as he peels himself out of the crevices, his limbs wobbly and his head ringing.
sandman is smaller now, human-sized. he grips his weapon, and in his hands it transforms into a battleaxe, the blade edges gleaming as he compresses it to razor-sharp glass.
jungkook glances aside, where your body lays crumpled and limp, dark oily blood pooling under your shoulders. he looks back at flint marko and all he sees is red.
he doesn't use his webs, doesn't wall-crawl. he lunges like a panther and drives his fists into his face, his screams of agony tearing his throat up ten times over.
over and over. over and over.
marko groans weakly, his face swollen and bruised. his lips are thick and purple, blood and saliva spilling onto the floor.
jungkook knows the bones of his hands are cracked. he can feel them grinding against each other, but the pain doesn't register. all he knows is that a villain is still alive, and that his best friend is not.
he raises his fist, flexing his hand. his chest heaves. he wonders what sandman would look like if he didn't hold back. he might knock off his head.
that sounded good.
his fist comes down â and halts.
jungkook tugs. a large hand tightens around his wrist. he raises his eyes.
large, filmy white eyes stare down at him, a grinning mouth like a red slash filled with too-big teeth widening slightly.
"HELLO, PRETTY SPIDER," venom purrs, eight-foot-tall body blocking out the hazy sunlight. "LET'S TALK."
jungkook makes a sound between a gasp and a retch as he pats his face and finds only skin. "my maskâ"
"DON'T BOTHER," interrupts venom, tugging jungkook's wrist and pulling him off of marko's limp body, whose chest still rises and falls shallowly. "WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE."
"you do?" jungkook rasps, on his knees and still swaying dangerously. "'we'�"
venom's long scarlet tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. those murky white eyes are hard to track. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW HIM. EVEN NOW HE SHOUTS AT ME." his eyes narrow and he glances aside. "BUT I CAN PUT HIM BACK TO SLEEP IF HE WANTS IT."
jungkook swallows, his eyelids heavy and his body begging to lay down and rest. he cradles his ruined fists, blood seeping through the cloth. "i don't⊠iâŠ"
the monstrous, grating voice almost seems to soften. "ALLOW ME TO HEAL YOU."
he offers a large clawed hand. his skin is black and oily, somewhere between flesh and liquid. it never stays in one place for long, swirling and smoothing over in faint patterns like mixing thick paint. heart in his mouth and mind in pieces, jungkook places his hand in venom's.
the black oily goo begins to spread over venom's knuckles, seeping into jungkook's suit and skin. the feeling is cold and damp and jungkook panics, scratching at his skin and yanking his arm back, but venom holds fast, and his inhumanly bulky body begins to shrink â down, down. oily blackness gives way to soft human skin.
you gaze back at jungkook, eyes apprehensive and sorrowful. his hand lays in yours. you lick your lips, glancing down at the black shirt and jacket over your heart. like it never even happened.
"hey," you greet softly, your voice a comforting low rumble.
jungkook stares up at you: still, silent, unseeing. his eyes well with tears, and he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift, as they slip down his cheeks, creating new clean tracks over his dusty, bloodstained cheeks.
your lips quirk up mirthlessly. "look like you've seen a ghost."
"no," he whispers in a voice like sandpaper. he yanks his hand away and rubs his eyes roughly until stars and colours bloom in his vision. "no, no, i'm going crazy, oh, godâ" his voice cracks on the last word, his shoulders shaking.
you fall to your knees, taking his hands firmly in yours and pinning them to his sides. "look at me. look at me, baby," you whisper, "open your eyes."
stubbornly, they remain screwed shut. he shakes his head constantly, his shoulders hunching over. venom returns to you, black tendrils trickling back between the cells of your body.
you sigh, glancing down at your entwined hands. you link your fingers with his. "you're probably disgusted with me, i know. you've read the reports, watched the news. you know what i am â what we are. we're not a hero like you are. i understand if you don't want me to be your boyfriend anymore."
at that, he lets out a terrified little gasp and his eyes shoot open.
"there we go," you murmur. "but i was telling the truth. we aren't compatible."
"shut up."
you glance up. "what?"
"shut up," he repeats, louder. his voice is shaky. "i'm⊠you're⊠i'm still processing the first part. slow down. please."
"what first part?"
his head snaps up, the anger in his expression taking you by surprise. "the fucking part where you aren't fucking dead!"
his voice echoes in the empty train station, half-ruined and buried in sand. his chest heaves after the outburst.
he exhales shakily and sits back on his heels, turning his hands over and pressing his thumbs against his knuckles. there is no pain, no grinding broken bones. "i⊠just let meâŠ"
he sways on the spot and keels over. you rush forward and catch him, cradling him in your arms.
"baby," you whisper, shaking him slightly. "baby."
the sirens of police cars swerving on the gritty roads outside catch your attention. once they've secured the civilians, they'll be closing in on marko quickly, and he doesnât look like he's in any position to wake up soon, let alone fight back. you glance down at jungkook's limp body, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly.
you shift him in your arms and lift him easily, walking past the pool of your own blood. the red spider-man mask sits crumpled on the ground, and a black tendril scoops it up as you move past it. with each step, venom grows, engulfing your body until it's just him cradling jungkook's small body in one muscular arm. he exits the train station and lifts a hand, shooting a thick black webby tendril into the air and launching himself up, away from the sirens and the journalists' chatter.
â
when jungkook opens his eyes again, he's staring at the golden sky. the sun is about to touch the horizon behind pillars and pillars of glassy skyscrapers.
a hand cards through his hair, gentle and familiar. he turns his head.
you smile down at him, hair tussling in the wind. you're wearing a different set of black clothes. his zip-up hoodie slips down his shoulder and you pull it back up.
"morning, sleepyhead," you hum, combing his unruly hair with your fingers. "feeling better?"
he blinks, bleary-eyed, at his shoes. "whatâŠ? how did iâŠ"
"you passed out after fighting sandman. we headed home long enough to grab you a jacket and then we decided to bring you up here, away from the hubbub of the city streets. thought you'd appreciate it." you glance up, gazing at the sunset. "can't deny that view, either."
"'we'," jungkook repeats, his thoughts chugging slowly. he blinks and shoots upright, staring back at you with huge brown eyes. "oh my god. you're that guy. you're venom."
"half of him, yes," you agree, watching him carefully.
he turns back around, staring at his lap. part of him wants to throw up. another part wants to scream, and yet another wants to leap into your arms, cry, and pass out again.
instead, he turns back to you. "tell me how it works."
"how venom works?"
jungkook nods, turning to face you fully. he folds his legs under himself.
"wellâ" the words get jumbled up in your head. where could you even start?
THE BEGINNING.
so you do. the lab breach, the symbiosis achieved, the fight with riot and the rocket. jungkook listens attentively, nodding along but otherwise quiet. sometime during your recounting, he slides closer to you, sharing the air conditioning unit as a backrest. he tucks his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his head against your shoulder.
when you finish, you sit in silence for a time, wondering if you've missed anything. venom doesn't think you have, so you glance down at jungkook, searching him for a response.
"soâŠ" he begins quietly, "is that why you never carry a bag around anymore, yet always seem to have a laptop and pens when you need it? venom has freaking hammerspace?"
you chuckle, resting your temple against the top of jungkook's head. "no, interdimensional pockets of spacetime, obviously. yeah, it's how he can get so big despite originally being the size of a large bag of chips. he pulls our mass out of⊠somewhere."
"somewhere," jungkook echoes, thoughtlessly. despite the tone of his voice, you can feel him tensing up against you, all his muscles like steel corded rope as he leans in. new science never fails to excite him, and he's always been a hard-science kind of guy with physics and chemistry. your specialisation in alien biochem opens a new world to him, and it doesn't help that he loves hearing you talk.
you wrap an arm around him, kissing his temple. "i'm not really sure how it works. that was one of the things we were looking into when the lab, er, went kablooey. maybe vee could tell you about it."
his eyes widen. "would he really?"
DON'T LOOK AT ME.
you clear your throat. "uh⊠he doesn't know how it works, either. i don't think they had scientists on their asteroid."
jungkook visibly dims at that, but shrugs and nuzzles into your shoulder with a sigh. "it's okay. i just think that's so cool. i could finally stop making a point to take my camera out with me â and i'd never run out of film." he jerks back, staring up at you with wide eyes. "you could take all you wanted with you on planes! no more stupid weight limit. man, that would have been so helpful in italy."
"yeah, but bad for your bank account, baby," you tease, nudging him with a grin.
"shut up. like you didn't wear that necklace for two straight years." he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. they flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. he leans in.
you meet him halfway, cradling the back of his head and curling your fingers in his hair. you groan softly as he nips at your lower lip. a low, pleased rumble reverberates in your chest and stomach as he swings his legs over yours, straddling your lap and tilting his head to kiss you deeper. his lips are soft, if a little chapped. luckily for him, you're wearing chapstick.
he sits back with a hum and smacks his lips. "mm. cherry?"
"guess again," you murmur, and his brow pinches slightly. he leans in, capturing your lips, and when he parts, he takes your heart with him, comfortingly sitting behind his teeth.
he frowns, deep in thought. "is it⊠cola?"
"no. it was cherry," you admit, sliding your hands up his thighs and squeezing. "i lied â sorry. i wanted another kiss."
he laughs and thunks his forehead against yours, pecking your lips. "i knew it. nothing else quite captures the flavour of synthetic cherry like chapstick. it's super sweet. like you," he adds cheekily, eyes crinkling. "you're so stupid... you could have just kissed me again. i wouldn't have minded."
you hum quietly, avoiding eye contact. you lift your hands off of him. "i just⊠are you faking it right now?"
his smile vanishes. "faking what?"
"you're acting like you don't care about what i've done. i'm a murderer," you implore, "you shouldn't want me anymore. you're spider-man and the best hero we don't deserve. can we at least talk about it, rather than pretending as if nothing happened?"
he sits quietly on your lap for a while, shifting his weight to fully rest on you. he stares down at his hands and plays with the zipper of your jacket, wiggling the metal tag up and down about an inch either way.
"i don't know what to say," he whispers eventually, not lifting his eyes. "i love you. you know that. i really, really do. i just never thought we'd have such⊠fundamentally different takes on vigilantism."
he chuckles at himself, a little self-deprecating. "you make me really happy, and it might be cruel, but i don't want to give you up for anything. not even if you, um, bit people's heads off⊠you don't do that anymore, right?"
"no," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "no â no. it won't happen again, either. we've found a better way to sustain him. he especially likes those little⊠hershey's kisses."
"he likes kisses?" jungkook sounds surprised.
"yeah, i know. i had the same reaction." you shrug, cuddling jungkook's waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. he drapes his arms over your shoulders. "anyway. thank you. for⊠for being selfish."
"you say it as if you expected differently," he says softly, gaze searching and imploring. "you really thought i'd hate you?"
silently, you nod. your hair tickles jungkook's cheek.
"i could never hate you," he says firmly, cupping your face. "we've been through so much together. we can â we can get through this. maybe you guys can just⊠tone down the violence a little, maybe?"
"we'll try our best," you whisper. your gaze flickers down to his lips. "thank you."
he hums softly, pressing his forehead against yours. he closes his eyes, the gentle breeze loosening his hair from behind his ears. you tuck them back and cup his jaw, bringing him in for a deep, hungry kiss. he moans into it and wraps his arms around your shoulders, the raised black webbing of his suit bumping over the base of your neck as he cups it.
you part with a sharp gasp as he nips your lower lip with his teeth, the sting only serving to deepen the hunger gnawing in your lower stomach.
jungkook jerks back, eyes widening. hastily, he wipes the blood from your lip, already babbling apologies. "o-oh, crap, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to â does it hurtâ?"
"fuck, we liked that," you rasp, gazing up at your perfect pretty boy in your lap, and you swear you can see your own pupils blow with lust in some strange godly out-of-body vision. you grin up at jungkook and pull his arms back around you, hearing his already-quick heartbeat pound.
"i⊠i don't â why do you want to bleed?" he sounds so clueless, so worried, and a deep, pleased rumble escapes your chest. no one knows who it comes from.
"i like anything you give me. 'sides, it's not like you can really hurt me, you know? since you know my big dark secret, and all."
he glances away. he tugs at your jacket's lapels, straightening them for the sake of it. "i don't⊠i don't really like the taste of blood," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek with the back of his knuckles to brush away the tickle of hair. "i like it when we're rough, but â but just no blood, please. i like anything until that point."
your gaze softens. venom seals the two edges of the nick without having to be asked, and you dab away the remaining blood with your sleeve. "does it remind you too much of bad fights?"
he nods, exhaling shakily. "and you. today. i canât â i really th-thought you wereâ"
you hush him as he leans into you, gripping you tight. he buries his head in your neck and you kiss his shoulder, cradling him as he curls into your embrace. "you wanna head home? make some waffles and cuddle?"
"n-no. i'll deal with it later when my brain catches up, so let's pretend like it didn't happen. right now, my suit is so painfully tight and i really want you to fix it."
"sure, yeah. but you know venom controls our suit, right?" you say, lips curving into a soft, half-teasing smile. "i'm no seamstress. tailoring anything but the inseam is a challenge."
"shut up," he groans, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his bulge. you can feel the stiffness of a cup, thin enough to keep his silhouette clean and flat. "you're gonna put me out of a job if you get any quippier."
"i'd be a pretty sick spider-man." suddenly, you push him down, flipping him onto his back as you slide between his warm thick thighs. you cradle the back of his head before resting it against the concrete rooftop, careful with him as you always are. his eyes widen and he flushes dark as your clothes melt into an inky black layer, skin-tight, just like his. as venom hems off the neck, black tendrils sinking into the skin behind your ears and nape and below your adam's apple, a flourish of white spreads across your chest like a lily unfurling.
"h-hey," he protests weakly, though he reaches up to trace the slender spider motif embossed into the suit. "i designed that."
you scoff, rolling your hips against his teasingly. "can you even enact intellectual property laws if you've got a secret identity? mine now â finders-keepers." you nip at his neck and kiss your way down the centre of his chest, feeling his breaths stutter as you press the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. "now, that is some viewâŠ"
softly, he whines and kicks your thigh, petulantly covering his bare chest. all it does is tense his biceps and squeeze his chest together, all impossibly chiselled. fuck, why couldn't you have gotten bit by a radioactive spider instead of playing host to an alien who exacerbates your worst instincts?
"not fair," he huffs, pushing your face away from his washboard abs. he tugs the suit back over his arms and smirks when you groan at the loss. "mm⊠i can't take your clothes off, so you shouldn't be able to take mine off. what if i wanna see you, too?"
"what, not a fan of the black suit?" you pout, flexing an arm teasingly. you don't miss how his eyes snap to it, his pink lips parting slightly.
"don't make me lie to get it off you." he taps the emblem at his chest, tightening the suit, and swings his legs around so he can mirror your kneeling position. he glances down and hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin against your chest as he gazes up at you. "might be a literary message here. anti spider-man versus the original⊠morals, outlooks, aesthetics?"
"i'll go back to my normal look if you suck my cock in your suit," you offer.
jungkook's cheeks darken as he giggles, embarrassed. "y-you're serious?"
"yeah. we'll even do it now. think of it as a down payment." the suit shifts and billows â and you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket again. you exhale softly, palming your hardening cock, and jungkook's dark eyes can't tear themselves from devouring the sight. "so? thoughts?"
"i wasn't talking about your outfit," he murmurs, sliding his gloved hands up over your knees and thighs. he shifts, pressing his nose into your bulge, and gazes up at you through his long lashes. "you really wanna fuck me⊠i-in the suit?"
"shit, fuck yeah," you breathe, carding your fingers through his hair. "that's so fucking hot."
he giggles again, already reaching for your belt and zipper. if venom unentwines your belt for him, he doesn't mention it. "naughty, naughty⊠what does venom think?"
"he thinks you're our pretty spider, but you already know that," you huff, closing your eyes as he mouths at your boxers. "he's dirty-talking. no, i'm not telling him that. you can do it yourself later if he wants to hear it."
"so, my boys are happy, yeah?" he purrs, nuzzling into your twitching cock. "mm, i can tell. you're drooling, baby."
"because you're being a damn tease," you groan, tipping your head back against the concrete block forming the roof access. you buck your hips into him â THAT IS PITIFUL â and jungkook moans softly, teasing the band of your underwear. "please, nnh, pleaseâŠ"
"didn't quite catch that. you want this?"
"shit, yes, i know you heard it. fuck me, my dick's gonna fall off from how fucking hard it is," you complain, swallowing harshly as he accepts it with a proud little smile on his lips, tugging your underwear under your shaft. he hums, pleased, as he gazes up at it, stroking the base lazily.
"has venom made you more impatient? try to relax, honey⊠don't want you bursting in my mouth after three seconds, now, do we?"
"you're such a jerkâŠ"
"mhm, yeah. venom's made you less patient. do you remember when we used those handcuffs? you were so good for me then." he licks a long, flat stripe up your cock from base to head and flicks the tip of his tongue over the glans rapidly, moaning softly as your hips jerk into his mouth.
your nails dig into the rough concrete below you, cold under your shoulders. they crumble slightly under your touch. "oh, fuck⊠those were real, weren't they? where'd you get them?"
"they tried to arrest spider-man once, way back. but i have a detective friend who happened to be nearby, and she helped me out. didn't take the cuffs from me, though."
it dawns on you like a bucket of ice down your neck. "that's why we never used them again. you snapped them to get me out of them."
jungkook glances up at you, mouthing at your balls contentedly. his eyes crinkle when he grins. "smart cookie."
easily, he takes the head into his mouth, suckling wetly as he strokes the rest in his hand. he pulls away briefly to spit on your cock â jesus fucking christ â and his pink lips stretch pale around your shaft as he lowers his head, swallowing several inches in one motion.
your head tips back and a drawled moan escapes your lips. you chuckle lazily, twisting a hand in his hair as he bobs his head, gradually taking more into his mouth. looking at him, that shiny skintight red-and-blue â you could burst right there.
fucking a superhero. you never could have dreamt it. a superhero is giving you head so sloppy it's dripping down your balls.
hm. maybe venom is influencing you more than you thought, because two months ago such a thought would've set your face on fire, yet all it does now is lead you to imagine what new positions you could try with your pretty spider, how else you could have him swallowing your come.
popping off with a wet gasp, jungkook grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath. he nibbles his lower lip as he pumps your cock steadily, his gaze glued to how the generous precome drips over his knuckles and down the web-shooters of his suit. he giggles and shivers with a thought â how full would he feel if you finished inside him? has that changed?
he stuffs your cock into his mouth to hide his blush.
"fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna come if you keep sucking like that," you groan, the filthy schlk-schlk of his hot wet throat bubbling arousal in your gut. his nose brushes the warm skin of your lower stomach and his gaze is dark and clouded when he gazes up at you, his throat constantly constricting and loosening as he swallows around your throbbing dick.
he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. his grip tightens on your thighs, digging into your skin, and he swirls his tongue desperately over the veins, flicking and curling as he feels your rapid, booming heartbeat in his mouth.
saliva drips down his chin as you thrust sharply into his mouth with a hissed curse. his eyes roll back as hot, thick come bursts down his throat and he can't even whimper â no room to. your fist yanks his head closer and he drools as what feels like gallons of come warm his belly. your hips grind roughly against his lips.
when your grip finally loosens, jungkook collapses backwards onto an elbow with a raspy gasp, chest heaving. he's never had much of a gag reflex, not since the bite, but fuckâŠ
when his eyes flutter open, he wipes his slick, swollen lips and sits up, skin too hot for his suit. his cock throbs against the cup, wet and aching. he nearly collapses, arms unable to hold up his own weight, but you're there to catch him, one hand twisting in the back of his jacket to hold him up by the scruff like a kitten. he whimpers, fingers tugging ineffectively at your clothes.
"thanks, baby," you say huskily, pulling him into your arms and crushing your lips to his. the taste is sweet with a slight salty tang and he moans as your tongue pushes against his, messy and animal. he melts into your arms, limbs like noodles as you kiss him and lap up your own come from the corners of his mouth.
he nearly cries when you slip your thigh between his legs. he grips your shoulders for balance as he ruts against your thigh, needy gasps and moans spilling freely from his lips â you rumble your approval when he wraps his arms tightly around you, temple pressed against yours and lips right by your ear. his hips lose their rhythm until he's practically humping you, the stinging pleasure of his trapped cock spiking hot desire up his spine.
with one hand, you grope his ass, rumbling purrs sighed from deep in your chest. you can taste the embarrassment sweetening his eager moans â how lucky you are to have such a cute little spider.
but you are HUNGRY.
thick black claws shape your fingers. jungkook squeaks at the sharp riiip of cloth and he gasps, stiffening and twisting around to check the damage instinctively. you kiss his shoulder placatingly as you slap his ass, squeezing the soft meat and muscle.
"fuckâ! it's cold," he whines, gripping your wrist. "oh, man, my suit's already torn from earlier â you couldnât've just waited until i took it off?"
"wouldn't that just make you colder?" you reply, amused.
"well, now i have to replace the entire blue section from my hips to my knees! i can't just sew a line up my ass, now, can i?"
"yeah, yeah, you can bitch to me later. i'll fix it," you huff, grabbing him by his little waist and pushing him down beside you. you flip him over onto his stomach and tug his hips up. you take a moment to admire your boyfriend. how nice that is to think â your boyfriend. "mm⊠just wanna eat you right up."
tucking his head against his forearms, he gazes over his shoulder at you, face flushed and hair mussed. he grins, a little breathless. "please don't eat me, mister venomâŠ"
your other half growls, his hunger overtaking any reservations you have about prepping jungkook properly. you move before you can think, your lips parting and your clawed fingers pulling to reveal his twitching asshole.
your long, long tongue pushes into him, saliva squelching obscenely as it wriggles inside him, flicking and curling against his tight, gummy walls.
he squeals, his heart jumping into his throat with shock, fear, and a healthy dose of burning liquid desire. he knows what it is before his brain can make a thought out of it. it's so deviant that the shock and shame make his tip drip faster. he tugs his jacket sleeves over his knuckles and hides his face in the soft pools of cotton, biting down harshly on his arm to muffle his wanton cries and helpless moans.
"mmgh â ngh! oh fuck. holy fuck, b-babyâ! baby, n-not so fast, i'll â 'm sensitiveâŠ!"
hot and thick, thick as a cock, your tongue worms its way into him, thrusting and writhing relentlessly. he is plump and soft and utterly delectable, a sweet tasty treat you'll hunger for long after you pull out from his clenching walls.
you can't think â your dick throbs â you see the world through a faint filmy white. you're more monster than man, able to taste the wine-heavy sweetness of jungkook's arousal in the air. it is hard to breathe through his scent â you have to push against it, like wading through waist-high water.
his hips jerk away from you and you growl in warning, yanking him back towards you with a squelch of wetness. your saliva drips down his ass and thighs â thick thighs that quiver like leaves â and jungkook cries, his eyes rolling to show their whites.
somewhere in the back of your brain, you think he came. probably hard. obsessed with his sweet, soft taste as you are, however, and unable to see his cock because of his suit â it makes no difference to your animal indulgences.
jungkook babbles half-words and nonsense, punctuated by shouts of pleasure as your tongue wriggles and glides against his swollen prostate. he comes again with a cry, the stickiness between his thighs only growing with every passing minute.
he presses a shaky hand to his stomach, gasping for breath. he feels so fullâŠ
eventually, when jungkook's whines start to quieten, exhaustion making him sway, you begin to slow. your vision starts to clear. your jaw moves lazily against his puffy asshole and his whole body jerks, his hole clamping around your tongue. it feels more human, now.
slowly â somewhat reluctantly â you pull away, panting. his hole gapes slightly, dark and shining with saliva. you dip a clawed thumb against the edge, pulling gently, before pulling away to pat his ass. the motion is so different, so fond and strangely innocent, that it hard-reboots jungkook's half-melted brain. he blinks away the tears and the fog of lust, lifting his head from his arms.
"mmph⊠baby�" he mumbles, his words slow and slurred. you tuck your nose into his warm neck, the bulk of your body heavy and comforting. your breaths are slow and steady and instinctually, he tries to match them.
he giggles, ticklish, as you nuzzle into his shoulder, a satisfied sigh fluttering past your lips. he strokes your hair, pressing his ass teasingly against your cock, still hard and heavy. "hah⊠you 'n' venom're gonna wear me out one day, y'know?"
his voice is wobbly, but pleased. you like it. "sweetheart, you don't have to. we can deal with it alone. you've already done so much for us."
"and let you waste your come? uh-uh. wanna feel it inside me." he wiggles his ass, making you groan. "c'mon, big boy⊠i'm getting soft."
"you're hard already?"
jungkook laughs at the surprise in your voice. "now that you know who i am, i don't have to hide it anymore. maybe you can even keep up with me."
lifting him up to kneel, you tug off his jacket and lay it down on the concrete. he hums and turns over to lay on his back, spreading his legs to give you room between them. he smiles sweetly up at you â your heart races.
you trace his suit's web patterns with a slight frown. "wait⊠so â this whole time, you've never really finished?"
"i finish. i just get hard again really quick." he blushes. "it's kinda humiliating, honestly, so i really want you to put it in before the clarity hits me like a truck. shit, was your cock always this big�"
"you wish it was," you scoff, gripping the base and tapping the head against his hole. "you're such a size queen."
"m-mm, no, really, i seriously think it's â fuck!"
his head falls back as your cock pushes into him with minimal resistance. his walls clamp around you like a vice, drawing groans from both of you as you push in deeper, firm and steady in your pace. his hole swallows you up, and it's so damn warm and wet that you feel your control slip for a single frightening moment. jungkook moans sharply, back arching, as your claws dig into his skin hard enough to snap a normal person's bones.
jungkook's gasps are short and rapid in quick succession. he goes lax in your arms, arms limp above his head. you have him in your lap, his thighs resting atop yours.
"fuck," he hiccups after a giggle. you glance down, away from his drunken expression.
you shift your hips, drawing out, then push back in. a bulge in his stomach follows the motion. in your head, venom purrs at the sight, curling around your senses to feel what you feel like a lazy, satisfied cat.
"yeah," you whisper, experimentally setting a slow pace to really see it. you press your palm against the firmness of your cockhead. "yeah. fuck. you're so fucking hot, driving us downright crazyâŠ"
you sound like an idiot, saying things that a high school jock would say to his cheerleader girlfriend in a teen movie. it's so shallow and repetitive that it makes you embarrassed, but jungkook's moans are extra loud after it, so it can't be all that bad.
still, you'd rather call him beautiful, if only to have him bury his face in your chest and laugh.
"fuck me," he breathes, reaching down and caressing your hands, black and clawed as they are. "fuck me hard â please, don't stop."
he gives you an addicted, lopsided grin, dark eyes blown with want. he cries out as your hips slap his ass, grinding into him. you pull out until the tip rests against his twitching hole and grin, sharper than usual. briefly, your eyes swirl white. "your wish is our command."
you drag him towards you as you thrust forward, your skin meeting with an obscene clap. through your lungs, venom groans, halfway between a growl and a catlike purr. your dick throbs inside his clenching walls, lining his insides with an audacious amount of precome⊠he'll have to do more than patch up his poor suit.
jungkook's eyes are squeezed shut, a hand planted firmly over his own mouth as your thrusts ravage his body. his hair bounces over his flushed cheeks, locks sticking to his temples with sweat. he seems to shimmer with it in the afternoon light, so unfairly pretty, as if he's dusted with crushed pearlsâŠ
you tug his hand away from his lips, parted with need, and your fingers twist through his own, clasping tightly. you rest your weight upon the first joint of each finger â you wouldn't want to rub the backs of his hands raw, after all. it's an easy feat with venom's claws creeping over your fingers from the knuckles like twisting vines.
"c'mon, spider," you purr, relishing the way his eyes flutter with each rough thrust. your balls slap against his ass. "don't be shy. we want to hear you BEG FOR IT."
when you slow down, really making him feel every pulse and twitch of your veins, he manages to crack his eyes open, though they flicker anxiously over the sky and glass towers surrounding you before landing on your face. he swallows, and a defiant glimmer shines in his eye. "no."
"no?" you chuckle. "gettin' cold feet? scared to make a whore out of yourself when you know we're both watching?"
"no," he repeats, a little harrumph passing past his lips. "i don't wanna work for it. you're my boyfriend â you're supposed to make me happy. are you slowing down because you want to tease me, or because you're too tired to keep up?"
a growl. "OH, YOUâŠ"
grip tightening, you shift forward on your knees, hiking his thighs higher over yours â he gasps as your cockhead scrapes against his tender prostate on its way in. he sucks in a deep breath as you bottom out, his lashes fluttering, and the bulge in his belly moves as you do. "babeâ"
"does it hurt?"
he shakes his head minutely. his bitten red lips part and he wraps his legs around your waist, digging his heels into the small of your back impatiently. "t-told you not to stopâŠ"
you hum softly and resume a rough, steady pace, the obscene sound of wet skin slapping skin echoing far too loudly with his enhanced hearing. it's hard to ignore and he realises, suddenly, that he's still in the suit â maskless.
"h-hurry â hurry up," he whimpers, a shred of panic fluttering in his belly â or maybe that's just you. "if someone seesâ"
"then they'll know how well spider-man takes cock." you smirk with a gloating glint in your eye.
"i'm being s-serious," he whines, breathless. unable to inject any sense of urgency into his words, he settles for squeezing your hands tightly, feeling and hearing the crack as venom imbeds himself into the concrete like tiny harpoons for support. you're trembling slightly â he can feel it in your legs â and he has an inkling that you're holding back more than your own urges.
"SO ARE WE," you reply as if it's obvious. you roll your hips tauntingly into his ass and his back arches, his hole clamping down around your veiny shaft. you hiss and the smirk on your face drops to make room for the irritated twitch of your brow. "fuck. don't squeeze too hard â i'll come early."
"e-early, he says! like you haven't been wringin' me of everything i have," jungkook huffs, squeaking in surprise when you let go of one of his hands to grip his waist and heft it higher, helping you to thrust deeper. your thick cockhead kisses his tender prostate, again and again and again â hot, sticky come drips down your shaft and balls and jungkook's suffocating cock throbs with a pulse of wetness when your claws dig into his skin in warning for his cheek.
you tap his hip absently, surveying your damage. "not everything."
you pause just long enough to seize his suit in both hands, and in one smooth motion, rip his suit to free his cock.
"honeyâ!"
with a quick swipe of your claw, his underwear falls apart and his dark, throbbing cock springs free. his underwear, looped around his thighs and waist like a jock, held the protective cup in place. you tug it out of his suit impatiently and toss it aside, much to his embarrassment, but he doesn't have long to stutter about it because your big hands close around his neck and your cock slams into him.
he wails. he lets out a bone-searing string of breathless cries and moans, tears welling up on his dark lashes as he grips your wrists and bounces with your rough primal pace. your thumb shifts over his adam's apple. you purr at the feeling of his moans, your name vibrating against your skin like a prayer and burning up your veins to settle in the base of your stomach, hot and coiled.
"SO PRETTY FOR US, SPIDER⊠SO TINY AND OBEDIENT. your cock is drooling â ALL FOR US," you rumble, shifting one hand to grip his shoulder instead. you cradle his head, turning it slightly to one side. you swear you can hear the blood roaring through his jugular and down, down, down to his heart, through it, and back up again, rushing rushing rushing through his arteriesâŠ
"mhm, f'youâŠ! more â more, more," he babbles tearfully, his hard cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. it leaks down his sides with your harsh thrusts, bouncing him off of your lap like a pretty little toy. your hips quicken, your grunts rumbling out as animal snarls as his cock smacks his stomach and yours throbs deep inside his trembling wet hole. "more! please, baby, fuck, feels so good! so fucking good, 'm gonna â yes! 'm comingâ!"
you GROWL as his cock explodes onto his chest, sticky translucent come streaking his suit and dribbling down the black spider emblem. your thick cock pulses in his quivering heat and your orgasm crashes onto you in thundering waves, harder than anything you've ever felt. it feels a bit like dying: the way your thoughts melt into one another into a slosh of raw animal emotion, the blurry white-out vision, the feeling of every nerve and neuron firing at once in a desperate last hurrah that burns you up and shaves the meat off your bones for what seems like an eternity.
your eyes flutter open. the filmy white has receded.
jungkook hangs off of your cock, his hands loosely pressed against your chest. his head rests in one massive inky black palm, his back in the other. he gazes up at you with glossy, dazed eyes, something like awe glimmering in them as he pants, hot breath fanning your kiss-bitten lips.
like a dog satisfied with an under-the-table steak, venom slinks back into your skin, and jungkook shifts his quivering thighs around your hips to accommodate you better between them. he leans in and cups your cheek with a shaky hand â you don't think you'd notice it if venom wasn't boosting your senses â to kiss you gently, his soft slick lips moving against yours with lazy contentment.
you blink slowly at him, your brain still pulling itself together, and finally notice the state of him: sweat-damp hair, marked skin, bruised lips, ruined suit.
ruined suitâŠ
"oh, shit," you croak, reaching between jungkook's legs to collect the thick white come dribbling down his thighs, still red with the imprint of your grip. it's starting to turn purple in places. "shit."
"it's okay! it's okay," he soothes, cupping your face. his voice is raspy and his chest heaves. "i can fix it. it's just a bit of thread."
"n-no, it's more than that," you whisper urgently, eyes widening as you hug jungkook to your chest. your cock shifts inside of him. it's almost tender. "i hurt you."
"i heal fast, honey, remember? tomorrow morning, i'll be right as rain. you'll see." he shifts on your lap and winces softly, inhaling sharply. "j-just â mm â pull out slowly, please. and lay me back â i can't feel my legsâŠ"
"o-okay. okay. sorry," you mumble, being as gentle as you can. once he's comfortable, you reach down and slip yourself out little by little.
the head pops out, and a thick gush of come pools around jungkook's ass.
he groans at the feeling, his gaping asshole clenching futilely as it leaks your come like a damn waterfall. one of his hands presses against his stomach, the phantom feeling of you devastating his insides impossible to overcome. the other hand flicks lazily over his shaft a few times as he pants and regains his breath, his thighs trembling even as you try to comfort him. he's never looked so⊠drained before after nights together. not like he could fall asleep at any moment.
after a while of cleaning up â to the best of your ability â you find yourself sitting cross-legged by jungkook as he lays his head in your lap, halfway there to nodding off as the warm breeze musses his hair.
jungkook plays with your fingers as venom slowly stitches together shorts and a hoodie for him. black, of course. he insisted you all have to match. he's been rather quiet for a while, and when jungkook teased him about being so vocal just minutes ago, he'd huffed something about being hungry. the lack of energy was his reason for why he was threading the clothes onto jungkook's back so slowly, but you saw right through his excuses.
"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, fluttering your fingers at him.
he huffs and catches your hand without looking, glancing up at you. "honey, stop making it sound like i'm sick â i'm fine. a little achy, but nothing worse than hitting your funny bone on the edge of a door. the only thing that's taking its time is my voice. i sound like i've just gone to a club â nightclub, i mean â and had an hour-long conversation."
you chuckle, watching as venom finally finishes the sleeve he'd been working on for the last few minutes. after a moment, the surface of the hoodie ripples like water, and a white spider symbol, sharp and long, blooms from the centre of his chest. it settles back into simple cotton and polyester.
you touch the mark, tracing its edges. "i think it's a nice design. maybe you should try a new suit for the next one, since this one's pretty messed up."
"and whose fault is that?' he snarks, sliding his palm beneath yours and shaking it slightly. he glances down and nibbles on his lower lip. "it's nice, i admit⊠but it might be dangerous. i could remember i'm wearing it and get distracted, and then i'll smack into a crane or something."
"spider-man gets distracted?"
"only for big boys with big you-knows," he whispers, blushing and giggling to himself. he props himself up and reclines in your arms, humming contently and sighing as your arms wrap securely around him, heavy and warm. "i'm kidding. not really, but i'm kidding. i'd love you even if you took over the world and made us all subjects to your dark dominion. please don't, though, because i'd be morally obligated to stand up for the little guy and i don't wanna hurt you, y'know?"
you nod with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. he purses his lips against it for a little kiss. "i promise i won't go crazy and become a supervillain."
he falls quiet for a while, settling his head back into your lap. he closes his eyes, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and brings your hand up to rest on his chest. his heartbeat is slow but sure, and you can feel your muscles relaxing just by the sight of his serene expression.
he doesn't hate you. he doesn't hate you.
he won't leave you alone. not ever â you understand this now. in this world of gods and aliens, you couldn't be happier with anyone else by your side â you are just mortal, just human. so very human. even if a planet-eating god sticks their fingers into the threads of the multiverse, melting existence as you know it, at least you'll be able to look into his eyes and know that at the very least, you were loved â and that is worth more than anything.
#top male reader#x male reader#male reader#dom male reader#dom reader#male reader smut#bts x male reader#bottom bts#bottom jungkook#jungkook x male reader#kpop x male reader#bts x reader#kpop x reader#bts smut#jungkook smut
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i'm feeling ambitious now. do i launch into the salvador quality of life update?? do i try redoing his oto from scratch now that i know how good cvvc is supposed to look??? do i start oto'ing the original scrapped soft and power appends that eventually got turned into his expression toolkit???? i might as well
#more specifically i am embarrassed that it is coming up on one year since i released him#and i have yet to do anything public with him SKJHFLKJS#IN MY DEFENSE . . . . . .#immediately after releasing him i had the worst trip of my life + i started my final semester of college before internship#and then The Horrorâą happened#and i spent all winter recording and trying not to die on account of The Horrorâą#and then once i recovered it was working on a cover i promised a friend#and then trying to speed through oto'ing all the crap i recorded in winter#i have been a busy little guy#so frankly i might as well try now while i have the impulse#or else i might put it off another 6 months JKSHLKJS
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thinking about sugar mommy sana and her college kid princess đ€
you met her during your part time job as a cat sitter. when she was away during her business trips, you were paid to care for her two beautiful orange bastards.
of course, you have to give a daily update to your client with pictures of the cats. when you accidentally sent a selfie of you with her cats, she responded with "pretty things".
yay her cats are so big and adorable and so stinky that you want bite their paws
usually, her assistant will pick up the cats but she decides to drive to your house and do it by herself. as a courtesy, she invites you for a brunch at the new restaurant downtown.
the brunch turns into a few more dates until she proposed an exclusive arrangement with you.
sana who funds your tuition and spoils you rotten, she always praise you even for doing the bare minimum.
sometimes, all you have to do is sit next to her, look pretty, then receive thousands in your bank later.
sana just love having you around, it makes her feel better seeing you study on the couch while she reviews the same floral theme for the new s/s collection
"i did my laundry today đ"
"my amazing girl âïž let's try the new steakhouse tonight!!"
"i got a full mark for my presentation"
"my baby is so smart"
sana is a socialite and often brings you to gala dinner. since you major in communication, she helps so much in expanding your network especially in fashion industry.
sana finds it so entertaining when men try to impress you by offering a summer internship in their companies. she knows exactly how these men take advantages of young girls in the industry.
it is too bad though, sana has decided that you will be working with her after graduating (nepo baby behaviour).
when you quietly ask her to come along to the restroom, she didn't expect you to pull her into the cubicles and start to desperately kiss her.
you are becoming tired with the constant interaction with people and the alcohol doesnât help, it only made you feel horny. the older woman looks so pretty and it kills you to not be under her touch.
"sweetheart, you need to behave well" sana mutters as she lightly slaps your cheek. she plants soft kisses all over your jaw before pulling away, it is adorable to see how disappointed you get whenever you get denied.
âmommy, no, you have to be nice to meâyour lips naturally pout when you look up at her, her face is dangerously close to you and all you want to do now is to go home with her.
âor i will go to those men and ask them to play with meâ sana chuckles seeing your attempt to threat her, such an attention seeker. she pulls you into a sweet kiss and can't help but to smile when you started to moan out feverishly, she loves how you look like you're about to cry from being deprived of touch.
âplay nice and youâll get a present, babyâ
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A Line and a Half
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: When Doryâs eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you donât know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.
AN: Okay, hereâs my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a âPart 1,â if you will. đ
Word Count: 3.2K
Tags/Warnings: A kind of âmeet cute,â attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to comeâŠ
You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.
Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, heâd been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk.Â
âIf you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,â he said. âGet âem back to me by Thursday, okay?â
As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.
Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.
âUh, Paul,â you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor.Â
Damn it. Knew I shouldâve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.
âPaul! Just a second,â you said. That finally managed to turn the manâs head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.
âAbout the internship applicationsâŠand your midterm exam essays for that matter. Donât you thinkââ you started to say, but the man spoke over you.
âIâm sorry, Iâve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,â he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. âSomethingâs just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I donât know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.â
You quirked a brow. âDo they?â
You werenât sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.
Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.
âNeed those by Thursday. Thanks, youâre the best,â he said.
You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.
Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.
Screw it. Iâm going to lunch, you thought.
Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant sheâd be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the doorâŠbut at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.
Frigginâ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.
You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.
Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?
It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Doryâs office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldnât be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.
It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, youâd of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.
Sheâd been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)
That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, sheâd become your best friend.
And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.
âHey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldsteinâs up my ass again and all Iâve had today is a crusty donut from the teacherâs lounge, which Iâm pretty sure was stale,â you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.
When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasnât alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.
He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacketâa good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Doryâs tastes, but you couldnât fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.
âHey,â Dory laughed. âI see youâre having a good day.â
You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.
âIâm so sorry. I shouldâve knocked first,â you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.
Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companionâs shoulder, and he got up along with her.
âItâs okay. This is my brother, Russell,â she said, and she introduced you in kind.
âWell, hi there,â he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.
You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you someâŠinteresting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.
âHi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,â you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.
âGot yourself a load there,â he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.
âMy bossâs idea of extra credit,â you said wryly.
âYou can set it down on that chair over there,â Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.
You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.
âThanks,â you said.
âNo problem,â he said, giving you an easy smile back. âI actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.â
âUh, no. I havenât seen you in months! You should come with us,â Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.
You raised your hands in placation. âOh, I wouldnât want to intrude, especially if itâs been a while since youâve seen each other. You guys should catch up.â
Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.
âUh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paulâs bullshit, and why youâre carrying half your office across campus. Letâs go,â she said, and gestured at your work bag. âLeave that here. Youâre gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.â
You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.
The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.
âSriracha on fries, huh?â you remarked, gesturing at the manâs plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.
âI said avert your eyes,â he teased. âDonât knock it âtil you try it, sweetheart.â
Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasnât holding his cheesesteak).
âUh oh. Whatâd I do?â he asked.
âYou gave her some PTSD,â Dory said with a laugh. âDr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.â
Russell noted your souring look with apology. Youâd just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of âsugar-coated demandsâ for Russell.
âWhy donât you just tell him to cram it up hisâŠuhâŠâ he paused. Seeing his little sisterâs look of amusement, he amended. âOr you know, stuff it.â
A smile twitched at your lips. âOh, believe me, Iâd love to tell him to stuff it. But heâs technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though Iâve basically been doing his job for two years now.â
âWell, that sucks,â Russell said. âAnd I feel for ya. Iâve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.â
You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.
It wasnât fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.
When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.
Anyway, you shook your head. You didnât want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.
âSo let me guess. YouâreâŠthe eldest?â you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.
Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.
âGuilty. Though Iâm the handsome one,â he said with a wink.
You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.
âIâm sure,â you replied.
Dory rolled her eyes. âDonât mind him. Apparently my brotherâs an incorrigible flirt.â
He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.
âEch. Frigginâ weak,â he said. âI brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.â
 You raised a brow at that. âYou make your own beer?â
âDamn straight,â he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. âNext time Iâll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.â
You shared a telling look with Dory.
âNext time, huh?â you asked.
âSure,â he inclined his head. âI pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.âÂ
He laid a hand on Doryâs shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.
She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.
âYou donât pester me. Iâd love it if I got to see you more often,â she said.
âAh, I know, Iâm sorry,â he said, releasing her. âMy jobâs got me all over the place. But Iâll be here for a week or so on this gig.â
That intrigued you. âWhat do you do for work?â
âAh, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,â said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. âMy company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.â
âOh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?â you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.
âI kinda bounce around,â he said. âJust go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but itâs a living.â
âInteresting,â you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.
UnstableâŠand lonely.Â
âYou know, itâs amazing how much you and Colter have in common,â Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.
He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?
Dory had told you before that Colter was a ârewardist,â or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.
For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.
After a moment, Russell shook his head.
âLook, I tried with him, all right? He wonât talk to me,â he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.
âCome on. Live on the edge with me,â he teased.
You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasnât so bad.Â
âEh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?â he said, his hands going wide.
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.
âItâs all right,â you replied.
âYes!â Russellâs hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."
You couldnât help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.
âHere, wipe your sriracha face.â
âYou really donât have to,â you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.
âNo, no. Iâm a bonafide gentleman. Ainât that right, D?â he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.
âOh, his intentions are pure,â she said.
 And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldnât be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.
This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.
You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sisterâs life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.
As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had justâŠclicked. From the very beginning.
âDory, you know. Sheâs more than kind,â you said. âSheâs a real one. I can rely on her, even when I canât rely on my own family.â
Russell hummed at that. âThat sounds like a story.â
âYeah,â you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. âMaybe one for another time.â
âSo youâre on board with a ânext time.â Good to know,â Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.
It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. Youâd probably be stuck here working late on those.
âWell, thank you so much. You really didnât have to schlep for me,â you said.
When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.
âItâs no problem,â he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.
âWhat?â you asked, a bit nervous.
âAnybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?â he asked.
It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.
 âWell, thatâs a line if Iâve ever heard one,â you said, shading your âsoulfulâ eyes with a hand.
You didnât know it, but Russellâs face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.
If he hadnât known before, now he was convinced.
He wanted to see more of you before he left town.
âHey, now that was 100% genuine,â Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.
âOkay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?â he asked.
You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.
However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didnât exactly scream relationship material.
Which only left the alternative: somethingâŠcasual.
You just didnât know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friendâs brother.
âJust a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,â Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. âJust this. You and me.â
Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.
âSometime, huh?â you asked.
He smiled back. âTonight?â
You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still werenât sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.
âSure,â you said. âHowleyâs at eight?â
âWell, all right,â Russell said.
He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.
He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.
Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.
But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.  Â
âSee you tonight,â he said.
AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. đ
Let me know if you guys liked this! đ It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.
Next Time in Part 1:
âAre you absolutely sure?â you asked, with your hands on your hips.Â
You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friendâs office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.
Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.
âYes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,â she said.
â¶ïž Keep Reading: Part 1
Ko-Fi Me â
Russell Shaw Masterlist
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Russell S. Tag List:
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373
@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum
@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady
@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy
@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad
@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73
@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj
@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways
@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato
#A Line and a Half#russell shaw#tracker#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x you#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fanfic#dory shaw#colter shaw#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#tracker fanfiction#tracker cbs#russell shaw series#tracker series#zepskies writes
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Orthopedics Surgeon
Doctor!Taehyun x Doctor!Reader
(TXT's Anatomy)
summary: Know it all Dr. Taehyun knows who you did last night in the on-call room. Little do you know he wants some.
content: smut, hospital setting (if you don't like anything correlating to blood and anything medical don't read), descriptions of surgery, sub/switch taehyun, switch reader (idk how I got there), nicknames are used, humping/thigh riding, hand job, classic riding, groping, condom use (yay!)
word count: 3.4k
honorable mentions: thank you @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for looking over this, I should kiss you for it.
âCan anyone tell me what the condition for a broken chordae tendineae is?â The cardiac surgeon asks while elbow deep in the patientâs chest cavity. The gorey scene before you was new to your young surgeon's eyes, the deep reds and pink hues, the constant rhythmic movements of the lungs and bypass of the heart was much different from a brain or an abdomen operation, and it excited you. Watching intently on what the surgeon was doing so you can replicate the techniques in your free time and even in your dreams.
The room was silent, a mixture of tired unamused faces and pale nauseous interns that didnât answer. Either no one knows or theyâre too scared to speak up, however, you raised your hand, you felt like a dork but it felt appropriate. After being ignored and given a few side glances you speak up, âBroken Heart Syndrome, sir.â You notice the surgeon faintly jolting at your voice and at the answer.
âUhh, no,â the cardiac surgeon said strictly, âBroken Heart Syndrome is the diminishing of the cardiac muscle, the condition I was looking for was Chordae Tendineae Rupture.â Your cheeks burn red, if you werenât sterile you would have hid your face with your hands. You try to bring yourself out of embarrassment thinking no one paid attention until a hushed chuckle forms next to you.
âAnd you want to be a cardiac surgeon?â Your head whips to the man next to you, a raised eyebrow above big round eyes glances at you, Dr. Kang Taehyun.
âShut up, Bone Daddy,â you say in a low whisper making sure he was the only one who could hear the vulgar nickname. Youâve known Taehyun since your first day of internship at the hospital, he is the smartest in your class, and had his eyes on orthopedics along with the hot eligible workers. Youâve witnessed him getting close to the f-boy nurse, Yeonjun, after you told Taehyun about your accidental trip to the supply closet. Thinking he would be disgusted by the story, later you were surprised to see the doctor talking and laughing with the scrub nurse. You didnât know what to think of Taehyun after that, a man you thought was a quiet nerdy boy was a man whore in disguise.Â
So imagine how you felt when the both of you grasp a paper on the Public Information board of an apartment for sale. Internship was hard as it is, the event that happened earlier was definitely not the worst of it, adding troubles with living situations was just the cherry on top. This for sale pamphlet was a perfect opportunity to share rent with others, but you did not want to share it with Taehyun.Â
âI donât think youâre the one that is offering the apartment, so I donât understand why youâre not letting me consider it.â Tae says as you both practically tug-of-war the paper, âcome on y/n, we both need a place to stay and you know I have the best study methods, and Iâll share.â
âYeah y/n, I donât know why youâre so against it,â you let go of the paper to look at your best friend, Kai, he was also in the same class as you and Tae. Who you were also going to share rent with, but he was fine because he didnât fool around, âgive us one good reason why Taehyun canât live with us.â You take a step back, looking back and forth the boysâ eyes, Kai had big hopeful eyes whereas Taehyun couldnât care less. You did not want to tell him that the reason that you didnât want Taehyun to live with you is because you didnât want the possibility of him bringing anyone home and making⊠noises.
Rolling your eyes, âFine, Iâll share with you, but you better pay rent on time.â
âDeal, Sweetheart.â you shiver at the nickname Tae has given you, hiding the reaction as you squint in distaste at the handsome smirk on the doctorâs face.
%%%
Years pass, the young internship days turned into years of resident chaos and now you spend your days as a full-on cardiothoracic surgeon. Yet you still share your bathroom with Kai and argue with Taehyun about not making enough coffee in the mornings.
This morning you were rushing to the hospital, you slept in from the tiring day before. Quickly changing into your seafoam green scrubs, tying your hair up, stuffing your stethoscope into your white coat while heading to the surgical floor for morning report. Walking around the desk crowded with many healthcare professionals, you make your way to Taehyun who had a counter spot open for you to put your papers.
Taehyun glances at you like everyone else did, but he was the only one to notice your strut. A slight smirk creeps his face as he notes the slight limp you have that he knows a little too well on girls. You come to the counter clicking your pen ready to write about your patients.
âRoom 822, has a bit of delirium causing a higher heart rate, Room 304, has been complaining of pain but they are doing their exercises and tolerating medsâŠâ You listen intently about your patients not noticing Taehyunâs constant glances every time you shifted weight on your feet. You are not an antsy person and Tae knows that. âWhatâs wrong, y/n?â
You throw a confused look at the doctor, ânothing,â you were feeling fine other than the pain you felt from being manhandled by the scrub nurse yesterday.
âWhatever you say, Sweetheart.â Taehyun has known you for years and the years of living together has added to the closeness between you two. He knows that you donât sleep with others all that often hence the soreness you show, but he had a little secret that he was dying to inform you.
As report ends the many scrub workers disperse throughout the unit. You walk over to the coffee maker in the breakroom pouring luke-warm brown water in your disposable cup when Taehyun slides himself next to you. You feel his eyes burning holes into you as you lazily focus not to spill your life source everywhere. An exhaled âwhatâ leaves your lips making the man fix his posture before he speaks.
âDid you have a fun time yesterday?â Your eyes widen at his question, memories flash into your head of Yeonjun abusing your pussy so good. The way his fingers felt on your folds, the sensation of his abs against your spine as he whispers and kisses your ear. âYou were pretty loud, I know you donât get out much but damn-â
You quickly lower your coffee cup to smack the man, âshut up!â
Taehyun chuckles, âI should say the same thing to you, you should be happy that my patient was loopy on drugs or else they wouldnât think they were imagining your fuck for a lifetime.â
Mixtures of emotions fill up your insides, frustrated by the cocky smirk of Taeâs plush lips, embarrassed by the fact that you were really that loud, angry that Tae brought it up. It was one of the best fucks youâve had but you didnât like that your friend was condescending you. Your mind gears start turning thinking of your next course of action, âwhat, are you jealous?â
Taehyunâs thick brows rise, he leans his head on the frame of the door, you watch closely to the bobbing of his adams apple as he swallows his thoughts. His big eyes darken for a second before he lifts his head, âno, just keep it down next time.â
You watch the man walk away as if he just talked about work and not that he heard every detail of your dirty secret. From the side of your eye you see the scrub nurse who keeps track of the surgeries, âNurse, what is Dr. Taehyunâs schedule today?â
%%%
Looking through the glass window that sits above the surgical room is like its some type of opera. These days the watching rooms arenât used as much but since they are there fellow surgeons like to use the seating area for a place to chart and watch techniques to be used. You sat there doing just that, scrolling through your laptop checking on any procedures or medications needing to be ordered for your patients. Every now and then you glance down watching your friend do a total hip replacement. Your eyes linger on Taehyun and his form. He looked so cute with his golden scrub cap standing out from the neutral colors of the OR. Is it wrong to drool over the doctor's buff arms every time his tools hit hard on the bone of the patient? It amazed you how the blue gown wrapped snugly on the doctorâs body. The waistband hugged his small waist, the sleeve morphed to his muscular arms. Your friend has always been buff ever since your internship years but it seems like he has been working out harder, or is it that youâre looking at him harder.
The heart monitor sounds an alarm waking you up out of your drool-fest. Adrenaline rushes through your vessels instantly standing up to see what was going on with the patient on the table. The anesthesiologist looks at the jagged mountain shaped lines on the EKG, âsigns of V-Tach, starting compressions.â
Taehyun looks stunned, not expecting such a turn of events on a simple hip replacement stepping away from the patient to not cause any additional harm, âGet the pads and set them to 100.â
A nurse drags the machine to the bed, the anesthesiologist shocks the patient, Taehyun winces seeing the slight jolt moving the incision sight of the hip, âno change.â
âShock again at 200.â
âNo change, still V-Tach, what do you want to do Doctor?â
Taehyun tells the other doctor to shock the patient again before glancing up to you. You were gone from where he last noticed you standing, before he knew it the scrub nurses got cardiac surgical supplies out and you came rushing through the sliding doors ready to be gowned and gloved.
âWhy didnât you know about this?â You say in a stern voice letting the nurse help the gown on you.
âIt wasnât noted in the chart.â
Looking over at the patient on the table it was a frail old man, âWould the heart condition derive from the operationâ
âIt canâ
âThat's why, it's probably a stress induced M.I.â
âAre you sure?â
You stop in your tracks looking up into the big boba eyes of Taehyunâs, âDo you want me to say it louder, Bone Daddy.â The silence in the room was loud, no one understood the reference only you and the other surgeon did. Taehyun bows his head, his blushed cheeks hidden under the mask. You take a step towards the patient, glancing at a displayed EKG of the heart rhythm, âyep, heâs having a heart attack, continue compressions, shock again at 200, and let's prepare for an angioplasty.â
Taehyun stands there admiring your intimidating demeanor, how pretty you looked with your scrunch up eyebrows, standing tall waiting for the patient to be prepped for your specialty. You look over at Dr. Taehyun and say, âDo you want to finish up your side of things?â
%%%
A cozy cool light casts over you as you snuggled up into the sofa watching whatever was on the TV screen. You dig around in the small white take-out box pushing aside the vegetables, looking for noodles to shove in your mouth. The front door clicks open, making you lift your head in attention to see Taehyun waddle tiredly into your guysâ shared apartment. His black hair hung into his eyes, tired body flops into a spot next to you, his whole body relaxing. Head tilting back, hands smoothing his legs that were manspreading. You grab another take-out box of chicken from the coffee table and give it to him. âKai is on-call tonight and I didnât know when youâll get out of work so I just orderedââ You cut yourself off, right when you were about to reach over to get the man chopsticks, he grabs yours and licks any of your remnants off. Your eyes couldnât care less about what was going on the TV screen. All you could focus on was your handsome friendâs sharp jaw move while chewing, and then how his pretty adams apple bounces after each swallow.Â
A smirk turns his plush lips, swallowing his last bite he says, âthanks for helping me today.â
âOf course, youâd do the same for meâ you giggle to yourself, âif for whatever reason a bone falls out while in the patientâs chest.â Tae smiles at your comment, your hand instinctively rubs his thigh in a comforting way but once you feel his muscle tense the mood changes.
Your fingers start to draw patterns on the manâs black slacks, âwhy were you hesitant before?â Taehyunâs head lifts to look at your eyes after watching your fingers, he hums inquisitively. âWhy were you hesitant when I asked if you were jealous of me getting laid, are you?â
âI-â he starts getting distracted when he plays with the loose ends of your shorts, âI wouldnât say Iâm jealous, more like⊠thinking of what I am missing,â you hum at his confession. You both sit there trying to comprehend and decide what two want to make of this. Looking back into the big boba eyes, heat rushes up your spine, a need to also know what youâve been missing after living with the man for so long. Like as if you could read each other's minds, when you lean your face towards Taeâs, he helps guide your leg to straddle his hips.
Your lips connect like a puzzle piece. His lips were dry and cracked from the habit of his lip-biting concentration, but it wasnât like your saliva couldnât help. Warmth of the smooth muscle fighting each other became an addicting game. You held onto his sweater pulling him impossibly closer to you. That same rush of heat boils down to your core making the sense of closeness start to grind down on Taeâs half hard dick. Taehyun moves his lips to your jaw and down to your neck, his ears perk when he gets a hint of your small whimper. Looking up to see you biting your lip hard as you get yourself off from the friction of his pants. âWhat's wrong sweetheart, let me hear you.â
You glance down at him with slight irritation that he stopped his sweet kisses. Rolling your hips harder on his hard cock presented you with the most beautiful sight of Taehyunâs eyebrows scrunching up and his lips widening letting out a moan of pleasure. His head tilts back, big hands gripping your ass like it was going to float away, he motions you harder onto him. You graze your nose against his neck relishing his homely scent that was all too familiar. Holding back the want to nibble at the skin you lift your head back to Taehyunâs plush lips. âY/n-â you hum ignoring what he was trying to say, too addicted to the friction against your swollen clit, âah- y/n, let's take this somewhere else.â
Still too engulfed by the manâs presence and wanting to get off just by his thighs, you didnât answer. To your surprise, you were lifted up by the stronghold of Taehyun. Your hands reach for his shoulders holding him tight as he gets up with ease. Carrying you to his dark cold bedroom, dropping you down on his pristine white sheets, arms caging your seated position, hovering over you kissing deeply. Taehyunâs fingers dance under your shirt, ânow sweetheart, I want to hear you like Iâve heard before,â he says, taking off your top along with your bra, âcan you do that for me?â
His rough lips drift low to your hardening nipples making you answer with a breathy, ây-yes.â
Tae hums, satisfied with the state youâre in. He removes his shirt leaving you in awe, youâve seen him shirtless before roaming around the house, but under the dim lighting paired with his lustful eyes, the sight made you shiver. The man walks away from you, your puppy eyes trail him watching him sit comfortably on his bed, back against his pillows. Following him to his spot, he stops you quickly tugging at your shorts. You slide them off with your panties and stand there waiting for his next request. âSit on my thigh.â
Your cheek burns pink, bare pussy pressed against the textured material of Taehyunâs slacks. Your body instinctively starts to grind, head tilting back as excitement warms your stomach. Taeâs hands grip onto your hips helping you move, âFeel good?â
Your whine brings a smile to the manâs face, you open your eyes to get a glimpse of his canine grin. Taehyunâs smirk disappears into something more mischievous, you start to feel his leg bounce. Hands quickly grasp his shoulders keeping you stable, âA-ah T-tae-hyun!â
The man hums gripping your love handles harder, âDo you like how my thighs feel? Are you going to cum just by my thighs alone, sweetheart?â You try to nod but the quick movements mixed with your building up orgasm makes it hard to think. âUse your words, love.â
Youâre gasping to do so, the friction in between your legs were overstimulating as it is. Once you feel his thumb snaking down to your clit itâs over for you. âF-feels good, fuck!â You cum on his black slacks, falling onto Taehyunâs shoulder. Exhausted but reality hits when you feel the man shifting under you. Leaving small pecks against his neck while reaching down to palm his aching dick. You note that way he whines and tilts his head at your lips on the sensitive part of his neck. âLet me help you please.â
Taehyun chuckles, âwell since you asked so nicely.â
Both of you struggle to lower the manâs pants resulting in his dick slapping against his abdomen. You stop for a moment, eyes glued to his veiny thick cock waiting patiently for your attention. Your dainty surgeon hands cautiously wrap around him feeling every bump and ridge to have Tae jerk his hips up. âTaehyun, or should I say Bone Daddy,â the man hums in response, concentrating so hard not to release by your little movements, âwhere are your condoms?â
âT-there in the ah-â like butter, he melts into your hands, âin the nightstand.â
Multitasking with one hand tending to the manâs dick and the other reaching for a condom out of the drawer. You grin while tearing the condom packet open. Youâre amazed at how his aura changed, he canât be like this with other girls. How can the man in front of you, no more than a needy boytoy, be the one to make those visitors scream so loudly you had to purposely walk in on them to tell them to keep it down. âSo Bone Daddy, do you always crumble for pretty girls like me?â You lean in towards his ear, biting the lobe gently noticing the faint shiver of sensitivity while rolling the condom on. Taehyunâs hands quickly get a hold of your hips as you lift them thinking youâre moving away. You chuckle, as a hand lines his cock to your cunt while the other lovingly rubs the nape of Taeâs neck. You sink down slowly, easing into the pain of the stretch he gives you. A grunt of Taeâs contemptment paired with a snap of his impatient hips upwards. Legs working overtime to match his pace, Taehyun finally has the power to admit, âSomething about a pretty surgeon riding my cock while giving my neck kisses just does it for me.â
A smile forms on your face, taking what he said as a sign to leave more pecks on the column of his neck. Your lips push down to where his carotid artery is, feeling the harsh pulse, and fast rate. His hips snap up right to your g-spot as you do this, resulting in your attention to his neck to falter, moaning out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head consumed by his tip kissing your cervix. Taeâs hands grope the flesh of your ass as another snakes up to play with your nipple. A cute grin displayed on the manâs face once again making you scream under his touch. The stutter of his hips signals you to bounce faster reaching both of your highs.Â
Both of you panting, hooked to one another, feeling each other's heart beats. âDo you still feel like youâre missing out, Bone Daddy?â
âMmm I think I need to hear you again, sweetheart.â
A nuisance,
TxT's Devil đ©ș
taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman
#txt devil#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt imagines#txt smut#txt x reader#txt x you#txt x y/n#taehyun fanfic#taehyun smut#kang taehyun smut#taehyun x y/n#taehyun x reader#taehyun x you#kang taehyun x reader#taehyun x reader smut#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun hard hours#doctor!txt#medical txt
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Bug Like Angel
pt3
What's wrong with me?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d40e84dbecbb5e88468169038d349d31/3559af386cae9903-a8/s540x810/0d69ee2f59631f18790b3566f3df20b3db05c6d9.jpg)
After a while you rush downstairs, excited to tell everyone all about your trip and how fun it was.
You're excited to tell them all about how smart you are and how Liz Allan is considering you for an internship!
You're excited to tell them about how you and your friends didn't get in trouble and how most of the class was uninterested other than you!
You're excited to tell them about how you're so thankful for this trip!
You're excited to tell them how you even learned about Ozcorp!
You're so excited to tell everyone about how you were asking so many questions and how you even got to meet Liz Allan at all!
You find Tim on the couch watching TV while also on his phone.You ran up to him and sat next to him on the couch.
"Hey Tim!" you started rambling about your trip and your friends, not noticing him giving you a stink eye. You weren't the most observant person.
In the middle of you talking about how your friend tripped while you guys were learning about their projects, he got up and left.
"Hey, where are you going?" you asked while tilting your head.
"I need to do something, homework came up," he said, not even looking at you.
You knew he was lying.
Well, you tried...
Next up, you tried to tell Dick.
He was in Bludhaven, so you could only text him.
You've probably texted him over a million times, and he's probably only replied, like, twice.
You wish you could say "That's just how he was with everyone!" but you know it's not true. You can't lie to yourself like that.
You've seen how he treats everyone else.
How he treats Damian the way you wish you were treated by him at his age.
How he goes out to hang out with Tim.
How he checks up on Jason.
None of which has ever been done with you.
He never replied to your text, he has always had your notifications silenced anyway.
You tried telling Bruce, but he was busy trying to figure out a case. He didn't mean to ignore you! he was just..busy..like always.
There isn't much to say, other than how you're not sure this is how fathers are supposed to treat their kids.
When you were younger, you saw how your friends dads treated their kids like they were the light of their life.
And the truth was that they probably were, unlike you.
You tried telling Alfred, and he did listen! ..but he had to go help Bruce and Tim so he had to leave mid-conversation.
Duty calls.
You tried talking to Damian, but all he did was tell you you were "pathetic for being excited over something so trivial". Before sharpening his katana in an intimidating way.
You backed off.
Last but not least, you tried telling Jason.
You got excited and started jumping in place while talking about it only for him to shoo you away and yell at you for interrupting him while he was reading.
You froze and teared up when you got yelled at, you tried hiding it but even he noticed.
You stayed in your room the rest of the day.
You tried playing your guitar to calm you down only for you to break a string somehow.
Yikes. Today is not your day.
By dinnertime, you were starving.
You forgot to grab breakfast while trying to talk to the others, and you were crying when it was time for lunch due to Jason yelling at you.
You went downstairs to eat with everyone, eyes still puffy and red from crying. You were hungry.
While walking downstairs, you could hear everyone laughing and chatting together.
As soon as you appeared in the room, it went silent and the room got tense.
It stayed that way until you left.
You finally got to your room.
You don't understand.
What's wrong with you?
Your body? Face? Your hair? How you speak? How you dress?
They keep you guessing.
What's wrong with you?
Could it them?
It's probably you!
Why won't they just listen for once?!
It's clear you want them near you, you need attention, you need them.
You feel yourself start crying again.
"Please don't ignore me." you whisper to yourself.
Suddenly the room is spinning, you feel like you're melting, and everything's wrong with you!
The bite itches, it burns, you just wanna sleep, you're well rested, you feel like you're melting, why can't it stop?!
Everything's going wrong!
You're tired of them! Tired of Dicks dumb excuses on why you two could never hang out! Tired of Jason's constant pushing you away! Tired of Tim always leaving you! Tired of Damian always attacking you, verbally and physically! Tired of Alfred always defending everyone but you! Tired of your father dismissing you!
You wanna cry. You wanna cry and scream and hit something.
Maybe you should stop trying. You're the only one who cares.
You can't keep pretending you're fine.
You've decided to stop caring about them.
You think you deserve better.
You aren't sure.
You don't think you'll ever be.
Who are you really?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d40e84dbecbb5e88468169038d349d31/3559af386cae9903-a8/s540x810/0d69ee2f59631f18790b3566f3df20b3db05c6d9.jpg)
oml this is kinda bad...
guys trust in future chapters i WILL be including more of the spider stuffđđđ its on its way
everyones prolly ooc i dont know what im on about
guys pls sned asks and stuff and interact its wjat keeps me goimg đ
also should inpost my series on ao3 question mark
taglist: @bath1lda @mariadvorak
#batfam x neglected reader#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#batsis#bruce wayne x daughter reader#neglected reader#platonic batfam#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x batsis#neglected batfam#batfamily x neglected reader#neglected reader x batfamily#yandere batfam x neglected reader#emotional neglect#spider bat!reader#spider reader#yandere batfam x spider reader#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse
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Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isnât believed heâs in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause itâs such a fun trope đ) but what if itâs the readerâs turn. Like sheâs a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just donât believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!
Daydream
Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader
Summary: You are living the dream ⊠except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend
You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.
Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.
âWow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake Iâve ever seen! Where did you get it?â He asks with a grin.
You roll your eyes but smile back. âItâs not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.â
Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.
âOh sure, Iâm certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a âŹ340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,â your other friend Livia jokes.
âCome on guys, Iâm serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,â you insist.
But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.
âIf you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. Thereâs no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,â Matteo argues.
You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that youâre making it all up.
âMaybe heâs embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,â Livia quips.
That stings a bit, even though you know she doesnât mean for it to.
You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadnât realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think itâs just a cheap fake.
Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that heâs really your boyfriend. To them, itâs all just part of an elaborate scheme youâve concocted.
You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsportâs brightest minds.
Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible âsynergy.â
Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.
Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.
When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules wonât make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone youâve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.
Youâre shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. âEarth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.â
You shake your head with a huff. âForget it, Iâll tell you all about my âfakeâ boyfriend another time.â
For now, youâre just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.
No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.
***
Youâre humming along to your playlist as you drive Charlesâ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and youâre thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.
Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldnât take no for an answer.
âI donât like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,â he argued. âThis will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.â
You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the carâs features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.
As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene youâre about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.
Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driverâs seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.
âNo way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?â He gapes. âWhat are you doing with that?â
âFunny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.â
Matteo stares at you blankly. âVisiting Charles ... in Monaco?â He throws his head back and laughs. âYour dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But thereâs no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.â
You sigh but youâre determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. âBelieve what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.â
You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.
âShut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?â She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.
âY/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,â Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.
âYou do realize those start at âŹ390,000 right?â Livia says. âWhy on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?â
You throw your up hands in indignation. âMaybe because heâs my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?â
But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.
âMaybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,â suggests Liam.
âNo way,â Eva argues. âMaybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?â
You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.
Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.
As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. âSo have you thought about what youâll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?â She asks.
You blink at her. âThe truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,â you say slowly.
She pats your shoulder. âCome on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now itâs just getting sad. No one actually believes that youâre dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life youâve constructed.â
You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. âItâs not a fantasy,â you spit sharply. âItâs my real life and Iâm sorry you canât accept that. But I donât need to convince you or anyone else.â
You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.
Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.
I miss you. My friends still think Iâm making this all up. I canât wait to see you in Spain next race.
Charles texts back immediately.
Not as much as I miss you. Donât worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.
And you looked so hot driving my car đ
You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, thatâs all that truly matters.
Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyoneâs jaws will drop in disbelief.
For now, youâll just enjoy the ride.
***
Itâs nearly time for summer break and youâre sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.
âWe should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!â Suggests Livia. âWe could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Whoâs in?â
Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. âHow about it, Y/N? Take a break from your âboyfriendâ and come adventuring with us common folk.â
You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. âThat sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.â
âOh yeah? Going home to see your family?â Matteo asks.
You take a deep breath. âActually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.â
Your friends erupt into laughter.
âA holiday? With Charles Leclerc?â Livia giggles. âGirl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!â
You frown in annoyance. âIâm serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. Heâs been planning it for months.â
Livia pats your hand gently. âSweetie, we know youâre probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You donât have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you canât afford to join us in Greece, just say so.â
You stare at her in disbelief. âThis isnât about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! Iâm sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.â
Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. âLook, Iâm sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. Itâs time to come clean.â
You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. âI donât need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.â
You storm off fuming. Your friendsâ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?
That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.
âI just donât get why itâs so hard for them to believe me! I know weâre not exactly a super conventional couple but itâs like they think Iâm delusional,â you sigh.
Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. âIâm sorry theyâre being like this, mon cĆur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. Thatâs what matters.â
You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. âYouâre right. Iâm just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? Itâs going to be a dream.â
Charles grins. âOh I canât wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure itâs just as magical as you deserve.â
You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.
Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.
âSoon weâll share our love with the world. But for now, letâs just focus on us,â he says softly.
By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks youâll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.
The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They donât know him like you do. And they definitely donât know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says âI love you.â
This vacation will be everything youâve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.
As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.
***
You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.
As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.
âY/N! Hold on a second!â
You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.
âCharles left this after his session the other day,â he presses the familiar band into your palm. âCan you get it back to him?â Gianni asks.
You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.
âOf course, Iâll give it back to him when Iâm in Monaco.â
You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.
But Livia just rolls her eyes. âCome on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!â
The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.
âWhat? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isnât some weird prank,â you insist.
Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. âItâs alright, you donât have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think youâre dating Charles Leclerc. But itâs getting kind of sad now.â
You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.
When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.
âY/N! So great to see you back here!â He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.
You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, âTell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!â
But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. âLet me guess â heâs in on it too?â
You donât even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You donât owe them proof when theyâre clearly set on ignoring it.
As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.
âLook Y/N, weâre a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,â she says gently.
You gape at her. âUnhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.â
Livia frowns. âCome on, itâs more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... itâs all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want whatâs best for you.â
You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.
âYou want whatâs best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I donât need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,â you snap.
Livia looks taken aback. You donât wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.
You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.
Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. âIâm so sorry theyâre being like this, ma belle,â he soothes. âBut you handled it well. Donât let them make you question yourself.â
You sigh. âI just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.â
âItâs their loss for not seeing what we have,â Charles replies. âSoon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.â
You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friendsâ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.
You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charlesâ arms, what Matteo and Livia think wonât matter one bit.
The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.
And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that itâs as real as it gets.
***
Itâs Friday morning and youâre stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.
The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means youâre missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.
You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.
And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.
âSorry to interrupt professor,â Charles flashes a charming grin. âBut Iâm going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.â
He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.
Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professorâs lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.
The professor struggles to find words for a moment. âYouâre ... youâre Charles Leclerc!â He stammers.
Charles smiles humbly. âYes sir. And as Iâm sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. Iâll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.â
He extends his hand to you.
You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.
âYou see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when sheâs present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?â Charles urges charmingly.
The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. âYes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, youâre excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...â He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.
âWould you mind?â He asks sheepishly.
âNot at all,â Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.
Your professor looks ready to faint. âThank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!â
Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.
âReady, mon amour?â He asks.
When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.
âI missed you,â he murmurs against your lips.
You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. âNot as much as I missed you. I canât believe you came here just to pick me up.â
Charles caresses your cheek. âIâll always come for you. Now letâs get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.â
He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.
Once youâre in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh youâve been suppressing. âDid you see the looks on everyoneâs faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.â
Charles grins. âI know dramatic gestures arenât usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that youâre mine.â
He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. âNo more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said â youâre my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.â
You smile up at him softly. âIâm just happy I can be here to support you.â
He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.
The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driverâs room.
His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.
***
Itâs race day in Monza and youâre walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.
Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.
You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.
âY/N! Weâre so sorry we didnât believe you!â Livia shouts.
âPlease come talk to us!â Yells Matteo. âWe feel awful about everything!â
You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.
âWhat do you want to do, mon cĆur?â He asks. âI can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.â
You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.
But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?
âI donât know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. Iâm not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,â you reply.
Charles nods thoughtfully. âI understand. Itâs completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.â
You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...
âAlright, I canât say no to that adorable face,â you laugh and kiss his cheek. âBut maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!â
Charles grins mischievously. âI think that can be arranged.â He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.
The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.
When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.
Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.
âSeeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...â Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. âYou really are dating an F1 driver!â
You exchange an amused look with Charles. âYes, that is what Iâve been trying to tell you for many months now,â you laugh.
Livia hugs you tightly. âIâm so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, weâll never question your relationship again.â
Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. âI hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldnât do for me, just as I would do the same for her.â He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.
You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. âWeâre really happy for you two,â mumbles Matteo. âHopefully we can all start over now.â
Charles smiles kindly. âOf course! Y/Nâs happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.â
You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.
The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.
That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.
Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.
âWow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,â Livia whispers.
âI told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. Iâm so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.â
Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. âIâm the lucky one, mon ange.â
He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. âI never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.â
Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. âWeâre so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, itâs obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.â
You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.
***
Today is the day youâve been working towards for years â your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.
The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.
When your name is called, you grin widely as Charlesâ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyoneâs view.
His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.
After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charlesâ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. âIâm so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.â
You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. âHaving you here today, supporting me every step ... itâs the best gift I could ask for.â
Charles strokes your hair tenderly. âI wouldnât have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...â
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.
Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. âGo on, open it!â
With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.
âCharles, what ... how ...â you stammer in shock.
He smiles widely. âEnrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.â
You continue staring at the letter. âBut I donât want special treatment just because Iâm your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,â you say uncertainly.
Charles grasps your hands. âMon ange, you know I would never influence the teamâs decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.â
You bite your lip. âItâs just ... I donât want anyone thinking that I didnât earn this.â
âListen to me,â Charles quickly gets serious. âYou are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. Youâve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please donât doubt for one second that you deserve this.â
His sincere words dissolve your concerns. Heâs right â you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.
You throw your arms around him again. âThen I accept the offer! Iâm going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!â
âYou will be incredible, Y/N. I canât wait to see you thriving there. Youâre going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.â
You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. âI couldnât have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.â
Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. âAnd you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.â
He kisses you until youâre both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.
Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.
Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.
As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You canât wait to build your future with this amazing man â both on and off the track.
***
10 years later
You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.
Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.
âGood morning, everyone. For those who donât know me, I am Y/N Leclerc â Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.â
As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrariâs latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.
Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.
You can hardly believe itâs been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.
After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.
Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.
When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.
Now, five championships later, youâve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each otherâs arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.
As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. âAs a woman working in F1, whatâs the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?â
You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. âDonât be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,â you tell her. âFormula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.â
The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.
After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. âYou were incredible up there. Iâm so proud to call you my wife.â
You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. âI couldnât have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.â
As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far youâve come together.
A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.
When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.
But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.
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