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ferrstappen · 1 year

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LONG LIVE l Esteban Ocon

(a/n): omg the first installment of the Taylor Swift Collection. I'll admit this one was a bit of a stretch but I just had this idea and needed to get it out! I hope you enjoy it and would love to have your feedback <3

disclaimer: in this au, the reader plays the role Zendaya plays in the franchise.

summary: Esteban Ocon (aka the biggest Spiderman fan, according to himself) tried to bribe his girlfriend, gave her the silent treatment, he called her out during race weekends, but Marvel was just too good keeping their secrets. (actress!reader).

i) I said “remember this moment” in the back of my mind.

July 2018

When Esteban told his friend Lance that after months of liking every post and Instagram story of the actress playing Michelle Jones on the new Spider Man movies, he slid on her DMs in hopes she would answer, Lance laughed.

No, he didn’t laugh, he cackled.

It was July 2017, the first Spider-Man movie in the hands of Marvel Studios had just dropped and was a complete success, and of course Esteban had his team request a copy to the studios so he could host a viewing on his home theatre.

He had avoided spoilers and even movie trailers in order to be surprised, most of his friends teased him about it, but he couldn’t careless, even dedicating that entire night to follow and stalk every cast member on Instagram.

That’s when he noticed the gorgeous actress who played MJ, mysterious and intelligent on screen, and that’s when everything started for him.

He googled her age, visited her Wikipedia page to see her accolades and projects, he even checked her dating history and the rumors surrounding her relationship with Tom Holland, the actor who played Spider-Man.

His life went on, months went by where he silently liked her posts, just as another fan of the series and sequels of his favorite superhero, then he was focusing on the 2018 F1 Season, even as things turned ugly with not only having to worry about performing, but also with trying to keep his seat.

Maybe his Instagram algorithm knew him a little too well when a Marvel fanpage showed on his timeline, announcing filming for the second movie of the Spider-Man sequel was taking place in London and Italy, and between the stress of training, press breathing on his shoulder about his future in Formula 1, he decided to take a risk.

Which takes him to his Canadian friend laughing at him.

He made his way towards the Williams trailer where Lance was getting ready, not really caring that chances were he was going to take his seat at Racing Point, they were friends. That’s why Lance felt so comfortable staring at his friend in disbelief as he couldn’t stop the giggles that just kept coming.

“Esteban, why would you subject yourself to being ignored? She’s from Hollywood, there’s no way she even knows who you are.” Lance tried to reason with his French friend, but Esteban shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter, I know she’s probably not going to see it, but I have nothing to lose. It doesn’t even count as humiliation because we’ll probably never going to meet each other.”

Lance squinted his eyes at his friend. “You can’t have that attitude, dude!”

“But you just laughed on my face!” Esteban argued.

“Yes, because it’s my job as your friend, but at the same time I have to hype you up, you know?” Lance told him, but Esteban suspected he was just being too Canadian. “What did you tell her?”

Esteban sighed and scratched the back of his neck: “If she wanted to attend the British GP since they’re filming there.”

Lance let out a sound of approval. “You know? I think it could work out. Maybe you should find ways to drop how much of a fan of Spider-Man you are during press, you know? Just find a way, and then people will start ‘Oh, this Formula 1 driver is so adorable, he’s such a fanboy’.” The Canadian suggested.

“How did you even think of that?” Esteban asked, but was interrupted by his iPhone going off, his engineer asking him where he was.

He didn’t get to talk with Lance again, just throwing himself on the hotel bed while his eyes were already closing due to stress and jetlag. Forcing himself off the bed to take a shower and then going to bed, checking his phone for one last time.

His verified account worked in a weird way he still wasn’t able to fully grasp, only notifying him when other verified accounts messaged him or followed him.

And that’s what happened.

Hey Esteban! I’m so sorry it’s taken so long to answer but ive been a bit busy.

Attending Silverstone would actually be such a great time, is the invite still up?

In case it is, this is my agent’s email so your people can give him the details ;)

The French read and reread the message at least ten times, not knowing if his mind was playing tricks with him, but when he read this notification, he gasped and dialed Lance.

“LANCE!”

@(YNLN) started following you.

ii) I was screaming “long live that look on your face”

(Y/N) thinks that Esteban exaggerated how much of a Spider-Man fan he was. They were officially dating now, so she figured it would eventually play down.

God, was she wrong…

With the 2018 season finally over and Esteban not having a seat for 2019, he leaned heavily on her, even if he knew he was going to be under the wing of Mercedes for the time being, it wasn’t easy.

She saw he was kind of down and with more free time than usual, plus they were still living the sweet first months of their relationship, so she surprised him with a guest pass and paper bracelet to allow him in the premises and set, leaving in on the table of her apartment while waiting for him to arrive for their movie date.

“Bebé, what is this?” He asked once he stepped inside your apartment, an envelope with his name written and an official Marvel stamp on it. He didn’t know what it was, but a grin was already starting to form.

“Hello, Este. How are you? Did you miss me? Because I really missed you.” The actress placed her arms around his waist, shaking as his body trembled with a laugh before he leaned down to leave a caste kiss on her lips.

“Of course I missed you, MJ.” He said and she playfully laughed at his nickname. “So, what is this?” He picked up the envelope.

“It has your name on it, doesn’t it?”

Esteban carefully moved from the embrace of his girlfriend and opened his gift, not even trying to hide the gasp that escaped his lips once he realized what was inside, carefully reading the letter inviting him to set, signed by Kevin Feige and Jon Watts, the director.

“No, bebé… Is this for real?” He said with his accent getting thicker with excitement.

“I think so.” She smiled before he kissed her, literally sweeping her off her feet.

He knew he’d have to keep a low profile, the public not knowing yet about their relationship, the only one he had confided in was Lance, and now people in Mercedes knew, so it wouldn’t be long before the cat was out of the bag, but he was waiting for his girlfriend to feel comfortable to break the little comfy bubble they’d created.

They were in Venice when a black Mercedes picked them up at 4 AM, but he didn’t care. The street was closed and cameras were being placed, people walking all around as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and freezing.

He knew it was cheesy, but the set lit up when she walked in. People greeted her all around, dozens of people and she stopped for each one of them, asking for their families and how was the hotel they were staying at. And the fact that he got to walk hand in hand with her, carefully carrying one of her bags, he was on cloud nine.

But it got better.

A British accent called (Y/N)’s name as they were approaching the luxury trailers parked not so far away from the set installed on the Italian streets. Of course Esteban recognized the accent, holding his girlfriend’s hand a little tighter.

“Tom, this is Esteban, the guy you’ve been hearing so much about.” She said with a playful roll of her eyes, earning a chuckle from the brit as he extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, mate. I saw you during the Austin circuit, it looked sick!”

“I’m a big fan of your work, you’re the best Spider-Man,” Esteban said and his girlfriend just started to realize that maybe it wasn’t a play, he really was a huge fan. “And you’re always welcome on the paddock, just let me know.” Esteban said and Tom thanked him before being called to his trailer, telling the couple that they should go with the rest of the cast and other friends to have dinner.

“So… You’ve been talking a lot about me?” Esteban asked (Y/N), playfully raising his eyebrows and leaving a kiss on her hair.

ACTION!

Esteban eyes followed as Peter Parker walked around the wrecked set, everything was wet and upside down, and he was in awe as he noticed (Y/N) making her way into the scene, questioning her friend if he was fine.

Even if he couldn’t fully comprehend the dialogues or what was happening, his eyes were fixated on her, as she gave his co-star the same caring and sweet eyes that she gave him in real life, and he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

The day was so great that they ignored the few tabloids that picked up the Instagram post of the Holland siblings, the happy couple, and other members of the cast when they went to dinner to a nice small restaurant.

“Are Spider-Man star and F1’s star Esteban Ocon dating? We have the details from inside sources!”

iii) When they gave us our trophies, and we held them up for our town.

Hungaroring, 2021

Every reporter went crazy when they saw (Y/N) driving a Land Rover with Esteban Ocon as her co-pilot, smiles on their faces as they pretended to ignore the hundreds of flashes capturing their faces through the tinted windows.

They’d been dating for almost two years, but still hadn’t confirmed anything. Of course people knew; everyone involved in F1 and Marvel knew they were official since 2019, and of course their fans were aware they were together after seeing pictures of them together all the time, but no one has managed to capture even the slightest form of PDA between them, which made people still think they were friends… Very close friends.

But there was something about this weekend that made them act more carefree, holding hands when they got out of the car, not caring if paparazzi got low-quality, grainy photos of the showing the tiniest bit of affection.

The actress pecked his lips before he went to his driver’s room to get ready, engineers rapidly approaching him to talk a few things over.

Time flew by and soon she was giving him one last hug and good luck kiss before he got in the car.

“You know, this is pretty dangerous…” Esteban dramatically said, earning a grin from his girlfriend.

“Estie, no.”

“But… I’m your boyfriend. You can trust me!”

“It’s a secret, only a couple more months to go and you’ll watch it. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it more not knowing what’s gonna happen… Plus, I know you’re going to tell Lance whatever I tell you.”

“Is the multiverse theory true?” She was tempted to tell him something, but she always chose against it, having signed too many NDAs.

Just as she was going to answer, Esteban was called to get in the car before the race.

“I love you, Este. Drive safely, okay?” (Y/N) got on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, like it was just the two of them.

“Je t’aime beaucoup, bebé.”

She became accustomed to the roaring of motors, the smell of gasoline and the rush of a pit stop, but that didn’t mean the worried butterflies on her stomach calmed down, she still bit her nails while listening to his radio and watching him overtake his rivals. His parents were the same, eyes not moving from the screen.

But today, it was a different kind of anxiety. She was on the edge of her seat, the fresh coat of nail polish chipped as everyone in the garage started realizing that they were going to win. The first for the team and for Esteban.

She couldn’t stay seated during the last four laps, completely aware that F1 cameras were paying more attention to the Alpine garage, wanting to get the best reactions, and obviously she was there, but she couldn’t care less.

It became real during the last lap, mechanics and engineers running to greet their driver on their maiden win.

Esteban parked the car and got out, jumping right into the awaiting arms of everyone involved, his face was one of pure disbelief, his eyes glassy with unshed tears and shaky hands.

She was holding your phone as his mom and dad went to hug him and congratulate him, wanting to immortalize the moment after so many years and sacrifices. Of course she loved his parents, but she wanted the moment to be over to hug him and congratulate him.

And that’s what happened when he noticed her. He noticed that he didn’t really know how to approach her, knowing cameras were filming their every movement and being broadcasted.

That’s why she took the matters in her own hands. Her hand went to cup his face, his arms found their home on her waist as he lifted her and kissed her. It wasn’t a pretty kiss, they were trying to pour every feeling, knowing words wouldn’t do it justice.

“Babe, I’m so proud of you, congratulations. Shit, I don’t even know what to say!” They laughed and went for another short kiss, people around them cheering.

“You know what a great prize would be?” He asked her, gently placing her back on the ground.

“Not a chance, Estie.”

(YNLN) just posted.

(YNLN): GP winner/king of my heart/love of my life @estebanocon

iv) Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.

Sadly, Esteban wasn’t afraid to admit he pleaded his girlfriend to show him the new Spider-Man script. He tried to bribe her with silly gifts, gave her the silent treatment. His last resort was to call her out during race weekends.

“Esteban, we are living the last races of the 2021 season and you seem alone, did you girlfriend leave you for Peter Parker yet?” The interviewer asked him laughing, making Esteban smile.

“Yes, she is in the middle of her press tour for the latest movie.”

“I don’t remember many movies creating this level of hype and mystery, do you have any inside details?”

“Don’t even get me started,” Esteban answered, his accent getting thicker. “I don’t know anything, she has kept everything a secret. I’ve pleaded, I even spoke with her co-stars and they told me (Y/N) warned them to not tell me anything! Not even after I offered full-access paddock passes!” Esteban was shooting his last shot to get any information, even if it meant exposing his girlfriend.

“Interesting, Marvel is that good keeping secrets, huh? We hope to see you on the red carpet. Good luck on the race! Esteban Ocon, everybody!”

“You are shameless!” That was the first thing Esteban heard after he picked up the FaceTime call from his girlfriend.

“Oh, you saw it?” He asked her nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“You just have to hang on a couple of weeks and you’ll see it. Babe, I have to be back with the interviews soon, but I was told you can bring a plus one to the premier.”

“Am I not your plus one?” Esteban asked confused.

“Nah, people like you too much now. We can walk the red carpet together, though!”

Esteban smiled at the sight of her perfectly dressed girlfriend. “No, it’s your moment, wouldn’t want to steal it with my perfect height and handsome looks.” He joked, earning a loud laugh from her, his favorite sound.

She was right, time flew by. Now Esteban was admiring as people worked on her dress and makeup. Someone was fixing his hair for one last time before they left the fancy hotel room.

Paparazzi were already lining up outside the hotel, waiting for them. They smiled before the valet got the car. She gave him a weird look, seeing a sports car, very similar to his Alpine car, with no one inside.

“You didn’t think I was going to let someone else drive you, right?” He offered his arm and opened the door for her, helping her with the dress and leaving a kiss on her hand before walking towards the pilot seat.

She couldn’t stop smiling, resting her hand on Esteban’s thigh during the short ride as he expertly drove, eyes not leaving the road to interlace their fingers.

“Chérie… You have one last chance.”

“Esteban!” She stared at him in disbelief.

“Can’t blame a fan for trying.”

Esteban would never tell her, but it was completely worth it in the end. His eyes couldn’t leave the screen for a second, too enthralled by the story being played in front of him, not even noticing the nervous eyes of his girlfriend, she wanted him to enjoy it because, as she found out during the time loving him, he was not exaggerating how much of a fan he was.

She noticed how he didn’t even try to hide the tears and the gasps during the movie, he probably didn’t notice how his grip on her hand got tighter every time a twist happened. Tears were falling freely as he watched his girlfriend on screen, playing what he thought was the saddest scene on modern cinema.

He was the first one on his feet to start the stand-up ovation in the movie theatre. He didn’t care about anything when the lights were turned on, his only worry being softly kissing her lips while people around them were still cheering.

“Shit, I still can’t believe he pulled it off…”

That was Lance, shaking his head and taking a picture with his iPhone to show it at their wedding, knowing that Esteban and (YN) were endgame, even if he made fun of Esteban.

#esteban ocon imagine #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon one shot #esteban ocon au #esteban ocon fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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whoreteen · 2 years

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Clouded ♡

⤷ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader. ⤷ word count: 3,8K. ⤷ genre: smut (with feelings 😵‍💫😮‍💨😵‍💫), slight fluff, established relationship, idol!au. ⤷ warnings: exhibitionism, handjob, masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names. (lmk if i missed anything!)

“Cheol,” You groan softly, stretching out the vowels in his name. “I really just wanna stay in tonight, it’s no big deal.“

The ’no big deal’ is your birthday of course.

Seungcheol had just gotten back home from a four-week trip for work and, his family conned him into letting them throw you a party, as soon as he got back and you really don’t feel like going. Make no mistake, you’re not a boring person who doesn’t like parties and surprises, it’s just that you’d rather spend your birthday in your PJs with a bottle of wine, cuddling with your boyfriend and watching animes like you always do. You both enjoy each others’ company a lot more than throwing parties and getting shit faced and, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Seungcheol sighs gently, his gaze focused straight ahead with both of his hands on the steering wheel in front of him.

“I know, baby, but I already told them you’d be there,” he says, turning his head slightly to glance at you before averting his gaze back to the road. “They just went through so much trouble setting all of this up and I couldn’t tell them no.”

You can’t help but pout, averting your gaze elsewhere as you think about when he’ll be taken away from you again later this week for filming promotions and preparing for his new comeback, this time for a much longer time period and, you can’t help but feel like you’re both wasting time here.

You hear him sigh again, clearly noticing your unhappiness before you hear his gentle voice fill the empty space in the car, “An hour, okay?” he quips briefly, “Let’s just stay for an hour and I promise we’ll leave and cuddle all night.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you see his soft eyes slightly wide and waiting for your response.

”Okay,” you finally drone as your lips quirk in a small smile, thinking about finally having him to yourself after this is all over and done with. ”Just one hour,” you repeat.

Your response makes your boyfriend crack a smile and grins back at you before leaning over the center console of the car when he stops at a red light. ”Can I have a kiss?” he asks in the most adorable way, dramatically puckering his lips.

Letting your smile widen a little, you grin brightly at his expression before leaning in to peck his lips softly. Just as you’re about to pull away, you feel his hand on the back of your neck as he brings you back in to plant a few more sloppy, messy kisses against your lips, making you giggle, clearly unable to hold it in.

“You’re gonna get it later,” he groans against your mouth. ”You just wait.”

Just about everyone in Seungcheol’s family is at the party, so are the boys and just about everyone else you both know and of course, they had to go all out, which means renting out an entire club for the night. You feel like you could’ve killed someone when Joshua told you, because that means you’d have to stay way longer than planned and, truth be told, you were getting a bit anxious. You just really wanted Seungcheol to yourself already, but you try your best to suppress the need for as long as possible, talking to a few friends you haven’t seen in a while and, catching up with them to distract yourself. Too bad there’s only one thing you can think of as time goes by, and as long as you and Seungcheol have been apart, though it only seems natural.

You look down at your phone and notice it’s pushing two in the morning, and the people you’re conversing with seem to be mumbling like drunk idiots at this point, so you let your eyes sweep over the crowd, gently pushing through the people on the dance floor, but you don’t see him.

All of a sudden, you feel someone pull you back against them and you immediately gasp at the hardness digging into your back.

“What the f—” You scoff as you pry the unknown hands away from your hips and turn around before letting out a sigh of relief, seeing exactly who you’re looking for.

Seungcheol chuckles at your reaction, pushing a few fingers through your hair before leaning in to kiss you without another thought and, the only thing clouding your mind is the taste of whiskey on his lips as his tongue hastily slips past your lips, persuading your own to move alongside him.

“Hi, baby,” your boyfriend smiles before leaning in and bumping his nose with you.

“Hey,” you reply back, gasping when you feel his hands squeeze your ass.

Oh God, please don’t be drunk, please don’t be drunk, please don’t be drunk, you think to yourself, the words seeming to be on repeat in your head as you really don’t feel like cleaning up after him or, even having sex with him in this state. Your boyfriend rarely ever drank enough to get completely wasted, but fuck, when he did, he instantly changed into a clumsy and not to mention incredibly messy person. He also never failed to be a horny mess, which isn’t a unusual thing to be honest, but seeing as you never want to sleep with him in a situation where one of you wouldn’t remember it the next day, it poses as a problem.

You don’t really get to find out how much he had to drink at that very moment because it isn’t long before he leads you off of the dance floor and up a few steps to the seemingly deserted VIP booths. You don’t take your eyes off of him the whole time, trying to guess how many drinks he’s had by the way he stumbles or sways, which he hasn’t done at all.

Once you sit down like he wants you to, he slides into the booth next to you and, looks down at you. Well, he doesn’t look drunk as his eyes seems to be clear.

“You wanna go home soon?” he asks lightly, tucking a few locks of hair behind your ear to begin to nibble at the lobe. “Or go to the bathroom or something?”

He doesn’t sound drunk either, but he’s horny. Definitely horny. Honestly, that should’ve been a given though after feeling his hard arousal digging into your back, it’s like he has a little on and off switch that you don’t know about.

Determining he’s sober, you think about what he said and furrow your eyebrows at his suggestions.

You’re all for going home but, “The bathroom?” You question, verbalising your thoughts as you feel his lips move towards your neck to nip and suck at the skin there, almost causing you to forget anyone is even around.

Almost.

You gasp in surprise as his lips leaves your neck and his hands find your thighs, hoisting you up onto his lap.

“Or we can just do it here,” he hums, his fingers immediately latching onto his belt and working as quickly as ever to get it loose.

“Choi Seungcheol,” You quietly scold with a laugh, placing a hand over his before looking around. “People can see you.”

You look back down at him and he tilts his head to the side, shaking it slowly, “It doesn’t matter, baby,” he reasons, his tongue flickering over his lips. “Everyone’s wasted, I promise. I just… want you so bad.”

“Are you crazy? R-right here?”

“Yes and yes.”

There’s a beat of silence as you stare at each other. You feel your smile die down and your need grow an astonishing amount when he shifts his hips slightly so you can feel him slowly getting excited again.

“I want you too, Cheol but-” You begin, but he cut in as his lips lingers dangerously close to your own.

“Baby… please,” he purrs, biting his lip and batting his lashes as you subconsciously begin moving your hips opposite of his.

There’s no way in hell you could say no to that.

You bite your lip before letting your hands wander down to his belt buckle that he surprisingly had gotten undone by himself, and unzip his pants, popping the button open. You pull his half hard cock out and, wrap your fingers along the shaft of his hardening, thick length, shamelessly thumbing the head while he moans against your temple, completely under your merciful touch.

You let your breath catch in your throat when you feel his long fingers probing into your bare thighs, making the hem of your dress rise up and expose more skin.

“God, I love this dress on you.”

“You do?” you smile, making him to nod his head. You begin to softly stroke his erection, twisting your wrist the way he loves and within no time you have him lifting his hips in time with your strokes. “Wanna know a secret?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, and you lean in, pressing your lips against his ear before whispering, “I’m not wearing any underwear underneath it.”

You feel a growl rumble through his chest, both from your confession and the way your thumb rolls around the tip of his head.

“Y/N,” he groans, more like a plea, a warning with unstable muscles. You hum softly before smearing his precum around the rest of his heated flesh. Seungcheol throws his head back as he starts moaning louder, beginning to fire off curse words you got his dick to curl all the way up into his abdomen.

There’s no turning back now. He’s so ready for you, and you know he isn’t going to stop for anyone, especially since you’re starting to get just as turned on as he is.

You stop your actions, taking another quick glance behind him to see everyone still talking and dancing and close to no one is near your booth.

Feeling his fingers run up your left thigh, you look back down at his hands to see him push your dress out of the way to come into contact with your naked pussy, causing him to shudder lightly.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you? God, you’re such a slut,” he groans before licking his lips and, you can’t help but moan.

His head perks up at the sound. “You like it when I degrade you, baby?” he chuckles, gliding his thumb across your wet folds, causing your legs to tremble as he comes into contact with your overly sensitive clit.

As soon as he feels you shiver, he begins rolling his thumb over your swelling nub again and again, smearing your wetness around to lubricate his actions.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet,” he grunts, his mouth finding the crook of your neck and biting lightly. “You want me to fuck you stupid, don’t you?” he asks, pressing a sloppy kiss on your jaw. “Right here in the open like the little slut you are, hmm?”

His breath is hot on your skin as he grazes your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yeah,” you moan quickly as his fingers speed up, twisting and kneading your wet clit in between his skilled thumb and forefinger.

“Please… fuck me.” You purr right into his ear, and that seems to get him.

“Tell me how much,” he groans, taking his fingers away and lifting them to his mouth to lick the access moisture off.

Okay, so that didn’t get him…

Groaning in frustration, you push your own fingers against your slick nub under your dress, letting out a shaky moan as you grind against him while you lean back as much as you can against the table.

“Fuck…”

His mouth is dropped open in shock as he just watches you, while grasping your ass with both of his large hands, eyes wide as he takes in each and every detail about you doing one of his favorite things, in public no less.

You look up at him, offering him a lazy smirk before shoving two fingers into your tight pussy, pretending they are his.

Seungcheol moans before his hips ruts back against you but before you could get carried away, you hear someone call out your names, causing you both to let go of each other.

You’re breathing heavily, biting your lip and so is he. You both heard the person, loud and clear in fact, but you never turned around, only staring each other down before he slides straight straight out of the booth with you still in his arms and stands up.

Letting your lips draw themselves to his, you impatiently shove your tongue into his mouth as he kisses you back just as passionately. You feel him blindly push you up against a wall, his hard cock pulsing against your folds as he holds you there. You cut the kiss short, pulling your swollen lips away from his to let out a moan before planting them against the underside of his jaw where you begin to suck.

You feel Seungcheol’s throat rumble against your lips as he moans and staggered around, and before long, hurries past the deserted bar and towards the bathrooms. Once you finally barge in, you’re both glad to see it’s empty as well. Your boyfriend slides the heavy pad lock in place and plops you down on the counter carelessly.

Of course the first thing you want to do, is to finish yourself off seeing as someone rudely interrupted you, so you spread your legs and continue your ministrations on yourself while he stares at you, wide eyed.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,” he growls, his lips grazing over yours as he begins palming his leaking head. “Wanna taste you so bad,” he whispers, lowering himself onto his knees to go down on you.

“No, no, no,” you quickly protest, grabbing onto his messy hair, “Fuck me, Cheol. Please.” You beg, suddenly changing your mind about finishing yourself off. You love it when he eats you out and, he’s so good at it too but right now, you just want him and that huge dick of his ramming you into the mirror behind you.

He doesn’t listen and once his mouth comes to your dripping pussy, they latch on and he seems to suck as hard as he can while still trying to lick simultaneously and continuously hitting your g-spot.

Your body feel so hot and, the feeling of his tongue sends your brain into a spiral, forcing new sensations from you.

“I’m s-so close,” you cry out.

Your throaty and breathy sounds of pleasure echo through the small bathroom as you arch your back and grab fistfuls of his hair, roughly pulling it. Seungcheol moans at the painful yet pleasurable sensation, sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

“Already?” he taunts, his tongue teasing your entrance before plunging it deeper inside you. He laps up your wetness, but it seems as if you’re producing more than he can clean up, causing it to drip down his jaw.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You feel yourself tense up as his tongue move over your clit in precise movements, before suddenly starting to flick over it faster and you convulse, giving into your first orgasm of the night just as quickly as it’s brought on.

“Cheol- fuck!”

You wither in pure ecstasy against his mouth letting out a long, drawn-out moan as you feel your intense orgasm washing over you, making you shudder and, leaving your legs weak and, your eyes blurry.

You uncurl your toes before he pulls away and ventures back up to your lips, nipping at them for a moment, driving you completely insane before finally kissing you full on, sharing the taste of yourself and the wetness he had accumulated around his mouth, but you could care less. You’re still as horny as you’d ever been and you’d take whatever he gave you.

You lick your lips as he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his own and, you follow his mouth, kissing him a few more times around his lips to get all of your cum off, you know he likes that. You can tell by the way he roughly drags you from the counter top, your lips separating from his chin as you land on the floor in front of him.

He turns you around, lifting your dress and you know what’s coming next.

You moan as he tugs the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and pull your breasts out, kneading and massaging them at once. You bend over the counter, looking up at his reflection in the mirror as his fingers begin rolling your nipples, his thumbs and index fingers pinching lightly at the buds.

Soon, he brings his head down to your body and manoeuvres around so that his mouth can meet your left one.

He flicks it with his tongue a few times as you grind back against his lower half, trying to get him going. He groans into your soft flesh and, you try your best to get your breathing to calm down, a least a bit. Seungcheol leans back again, his fingers never leaving your nipples until you turn around and climb back onto the roomy counter, spreading your legs open for him.

He gently feels up and down your core before probing his long inside of you, savoring the feel of your tight walls wrapped around it as you whine for him to just do it already.

“You want me to fuck you, huh?” he asks bluntly, his nose pressing against your hot skin as he peppers your neck with messy kisses, before looking at you again.

“Hmm? You want my big cock rammed into this pretty little pussy?”

Even though he’s really turning you on, he’s also really starting to push it. If he’d have waited any longer to stop and talk dirty to you, you probably would’ve gotten annoyed, but you feel like maybe you can hold out a bit longer, so you just answer him, telling him what he wants to hear.

“Yes, Cheollie,” you purr shamelessly, “Please.”

You moan loudly when he begins to scissor you, feeling around with those strong fingers of his as he speaks again, “Tell me how you want it, Y/N,” he coos so sweetly that butterflies flutter inside your stomach, moaning at the feel of your juices causes his fingers to slip.

You shudder as you feel his fingers brush roughly against that one spot deep inside of you and, when you look down, you see him down to the knuckle as his other hand holds you upper thigh.

And, that’s when you crumbled and figured out you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Cheol, just do it,” you order, “Fuck me hard.”

He lets out a moan, and your guess is that he’s trying to agree with you. He finally obeys, grabbing your thighs and plunging into you for the first time in way too long.

You immediately bury your fingers into his messy hair and listen as he moans against the skin of your neck while he plunges inside of you again and again, each stroke more powerful than the last. You rake your nails down his back making him groan and thrust harder and, you can’t stop the loud moans escaping your lips.

His lips eventually roam back up to your mouth, claiming it again while angling his hips differently every time he reenters you, desperately searching for the spot that he’s just found with his fingers.

Once you finally feel the hard tip of his dick brush against it, you drop your mouth open in a silent scream as you begin to shake, your legs twitching uncontrollably. Since you haven’t had sex in quite a while and, you haven’t found the time to take care of your needs yourself, the pleasure you feel as he pounds into you harder and faster, hitting your spot dead on every single time, is intensified more than you could’ve ever imagined.

“C-Cheol…”

You gasp as he pulls you off of the counter again just to slam you against the wall next to the door you came from and continues to fuck you, never missing a beat.

Throwing your head back, you begin winding your hips in time with his thrusts, which finally gets him to let out a loud moan; letting sweet nothings and ‘i love you’s’ leaving your lips. You’re sure if anyone is standing around the bathroom or even the bar at the time, they’d be able to hear you.

“Oh my god- f…fuck, s..so close,” you stutter.

“Fuck, angel, m-me too,” he finally replies with another grunt. “God, I love you so much.”

His fingers dig into your thighs, his grip loosening momentarily as he hoists you back up his body, losing the rhythm for just a second before quickly finding it again.

“Right there- fuck!”

You bury your face in his hair, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as you literally scream out his name before feeling him swell inside of you, which gets you to start convulsing again.

You feel his stomach muscles tighten against your own before he whimpers and lets himself go, shooting his warm cum inside of you as you clutch onto each other.

When it’s all over, you’re both breathing heavily and moments later you feel your body relax, but you still can’t let go of him.

He runs his fingers through your hair as you listen to his breathing calm down.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t wait until we got home,” he sighs into your hair, placing a peck against the side of your neck before pulling away to look into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you smile before letting him place another peck against your lips, “It’s just another place to add to our public sex bucket list,” you giggle, lacing your fingers in his hair.

He lets out a loud chuckle, laughing at your comment before kissing you one last time and, you allow yourself to unwrap your legs from his torso, almost falling over because of how weak they are, but he catches you just in time.

“Now, how about we go home now birthday girl?” he suggests, his arms securing themselves around your waist as you work to pull his pants back up after tucking him back into them. “I was thinking about making you a caaake,” he sings, as if the thought of home doesn’t already sound appealing enough right now.

“Yeah? What kind?” you ask, trying to hold back a grin.

“Chocolate,” he replies almost immediately, knowing that it’s your absolute favorite. “We’ll get the cake box mix on our way home.”

You let your grin finally spread across your face as you speak again, “Okayyyyy,” you say, stretching out the word, “But I think you might have to carry me.“

He swiftly moves one hand from your waist to your legs as he scoops you into his arms.

“I missed you,” he coos, giving you a smile before kissing you again and turning around to face the door.

”I missed you too, baby.”

if you liked this, consider supporting me by reblogging, buying me a coffee ☕️ or leaving feedback ♡.

#seventeen smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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runningupthatvecna · 10 months

Text

the law of seat partners | part 4

masterlist

a/n: so this is part four, probably the last and final part to bring this little something to an end. it's a bit of a dive into eddie's emotional state and self-esteem issues and it just might sting you a little reading. this whole story has honestly been a wild ride from start to finish and i want to thank every single one of you for giving it so much love! hope you enjoy this last part just as much, if not more. all i can say is that i poured my entire heart into this and it's my first time writing spice, so go easy on me please. my requests are, however, open in case anyone wants me to write more. for this, i'm planning a little sequel part, so keep an eye out for that if you like.

summary: after some intense flower crown binding and a few more intense days at the camp, things are finally getting real between you and eddie. you make him your prince and he makes you his own. read for yourself ;)

word count: 13,5k (lol don't ask i got carried away it seems)

warnings/tags: slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love kinda, not too detailed description of reader's appearance, very close physical closeness, sharing a bed, eddie being touch starved and a very wholesome and caring bean, mentions of eddie's dad being a piece of shit, lots of petnames, shitlots of fluff, a tad bit of angst, abandonment issues & performance anxiety, smut (minors go away!), softdom!eddie, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, blowjob, a bit of edging if you squint, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pulling out, basically just hot and steamy lovemaking filth. ok BYE

-----

Roses, magnolias, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, yarrows, peonies and lots of twigs with green leaves. For the base. To balance out the colours.

The day had finally come.

You placed the crown of flowers which you had spent an hour assembling and braiding and binding together on your head, intending to wear it with a sense of pride.

A sunflower as the yellow centerpiece, two light purple peonies on each side, some yarrow and white roses here and there.

You guessed that Jonathan would shoot another roll of film full today, measured by the enthusiasm he was displaying just now while directing the postures of the four of you, assigning you poses and giving you instructions on which way to turn so you would be lit in the best way possible.

Robin, Nancy, Max and you were stood in one line, and if it weren't for the fact that you found yourselves on the path leading from the cabins to the little square of the fireplace, surrounded by trees, the view of the lake in the background and framed by a row of tall pines, you would think you were posing for graduation photos.

It was a nice rehearsal, at least.

Anyone else except Will, Eddie and the photographer himself were busy occupying themselves elsewhere.

The younger Byers boy enthusiastically fumbling around with flowers for his own crown – the artist in his element –, Jonathan capturing your precious moments and Eddie, ... well Eddie was honestly just watching the four of you, admiring the scene and being grateful that no one had shoo'ed him away yet, because that meant he'd certainly have to get involved in the yoga-slash-stretching workshop Steve Harrington was trying to attend in the meantime.

Also he was wondering where you took the patience for your magnificent wonder of floral composition from, when he unsuccessfully tried to merely string a bunch of leafy twigs and yarrow together himself.

The teachers had made you all spent the majority of the day in the next bigger town, admiring the contents and exhibits of the local museum, dedicated to bring the regional history, geography specifics and culture closer to its visitors. And the only time the longhaired metalhead had left your side (under protest) was those two times you needed to use the women's restroom.

The younger middle school kids had been an absolute menace to the nerves of Mr Clarke all day, their lack of patience and ability to stay focused on the exhibits getting the best of him.

Eddie's presence made everything better though (for you at least) and the obnoxious children forgotten. You know that feeling when you're on a trip with your friends and your crush is there too and that fact just lifts your entire mood and whatever you guys are doing doesn't matter because they are there with you because their presence is solely enough to make your heart blossom?

Yeah. That.

"Come here", you sat down next to Eddie on the tree trunk that was laid flat to act as a bench, taking and trying to fix whatever attempt of a flower crown he was occupying his fingers with. You would guess that he'd be quite skilled with them as a guitarist, but seeing him drop stuff here and there with his tongue stuck out – a telltale sign that he was focussing super hard – also had you guessing that the skill of binding flower crowns and playing guitar were two different pairs of shoes.

Legs touching, you felt Eddie's gaze wander from the top of your knee over the skin on the plushness of your bare thighs up to the hem of your white flowy linen dress.

Oh, what they would feel like under his gentle touch.

His eyes paused their little journey on your hands, the softness of your skin, how you (just like him) always wore your rings, thin golden bands delicately adorning your index and middle fingers plus the one on your right thumb. He took in the tiny wrinkles stretched over your knuckles, the way your fingertips were readjusting the wire he sloppily had bound the twigs and stems together with, lightly brushing over the even softer petals of the flowers.

Secretly he wished they would lightly brush over his own hands too.

Brush over his neck, his hair, his cheeks, telling him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and that he could and would be accepted – and maybe even loved – just the way he was in his truest form.

As if you could be someone with the capability to show him just that. Convince his silly brain that he wasn't the fuck up his father made him believe to be. The unlovable freak his hometown condemned him as.

A feeling he was so desperately yearning for, deep down below the surface where usually no ray of light would ever reach the bottom.

Mainly because he wouldn't let the light through. The waves were and had just always been too high.

Gaze continuing its journey further up, lingering on your chest for a fleeting second, before scanning over the expanse of your neck.

Eddie mentally thanked Nancy for braiding your hair out of the way today.

He took in your jawline, the way your small and delicate earrings decorated the lobes of your ears, a small strand of hair on the side of your head separating your ear from your face, your nose which Eddie found to be very cute, a few freckles spread over the apples of your cheeks, eyes as deep as the ocean, currently focused on not cutting yourself on the garden scissors as clumsy as you could be, and then the pinkish red plushness of your rounded lips.

Eddie was certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against his own. Giving him a glimpse of something big and meaningful, and very very dear to him, something crawling through every vein of his body making the goosebumps erupt on his bare arms, something he craved to his core.

He wanted to touch. Needed to. More of you.

And he felt an all too familiar warmth spread through his abdomen, just like yesterday after the swimming, when his goodnight hug had ended up a bit too tightly for his own good, and he'd had to excuse himself awkwardly in order to take care of the semi slowly causing his damp shorts to become painfully tight.

He took in the way your eyes lit up and the corners of your mouth curled upwards at your successful fix of his poor attempt to impress you, watched you getting up and moving in front of him in a twirl, making the hem of your dress bounce a little.

Of course he noticed that. You were the pretty much only thing occupying the space in his brain.

The light was you.

"Now here you go, Prince of Metal", you chuckled as you placed the crown on his head softly, him blinking up at you through his thick black lashes with a wide smile that was forming on his face slowly at your affectionate gesture and – especially – the title.

It was very modest, just white yarrow and the green of the leaves, an analogy to Eddie's mindset of cherishing simplicity.

A "thank you, darling" escaped his chest in a low, soft tone right before he stood up, still grinning at you as if you had just told him you'd won the lottery. Or he'd won it.

He was certainly feeling like he had. You had done this, something nice, for him. It made his cheeks flush pink. A delightful addition to the white and green.

Jonathan had just finished taking a few close-ups of Max' half-heartedly composed circle of tulips and daisies, and when he noticed you and Eddie in the middle of half empty buckets of leftover flowers and the splutter of twigs and fallen petals, he wasted no time in calling you over to his makeshift photo set.

-----

For the rest of the trip, you couldn't help but think of Eddie's newfound interest in flower arrangements, the way he had selflessly fought with the stubborn wire and unruly twigs just to spend more time with you (and selflessly escape yoga with Steve).

The time at camp was almost coming to an end already. You had two nights left before the bus would roll up again, forcing you to leave the little serene oasis to take you home.

A whole bunch of polaroids was stacked up on your little nightstand by now, one of them showing you alongside the Prince of Metal, proudly posing with flower crown heads held high, and if you didn't know better you would say that the pose you both had taken made the impression of one of a royal couple. Eddie had put his hands on his hips, facing the camera diagonally, your back towards his chest in the same direction as him. Serious expressions, since you were royalty.

Another showed you in between Steve, Robin and Eddie on another hike, all of you well-lit by the bright sun, blue sky and vast lake with the deep green of trees in the background, on top of the hill you had attempted to climb on the first day. Robin was pulling a silly face, while Eddie poked his index finger into the dimple that always formed on Steve's cheek whenever he put on his toothy grin. And you? You were just looking, smiling, gazing at your seat partner.

More of them had been taken during further swimming activities, recreations of the acrobatic performance which Eddie and Max had displayed that first time in the lake, and since Jonathan knew how obsessed with photos you really were, he thought he might as well give you all the others he had taken.

For safekeeping.

Not to mention the one of Eddie and you on the bus.

And then, your personal favourite you had decided, showed Eddie in the white framed rectangle with closed eyes, his crown of flowers decorating the top of his head, the widest grin spread across his face.

He looked angelic.

You wished you could make a thousand copies of it and tape it to every single lamp post and throw it into every single mail box in all of Hawkins.

You wanted to look at it forever.

As you were lying there in the darkness of your shared cabin, you made a mental note to yourself to definitely pay Jonathan back for the film.

Eyes closed, you let your mind wander through all the memories you'd been making these past days. Not just with Prince Metal, but also with everyone else. It was nice and wholesome getting to spend time with the gang outside of Hawkins.

The very vivid memories of the past days flooded your brain. It was easy getting lost in them. So lost, that you audibly gasped as a light knock on the glass of the window pulled you out of conscious dreamland.

Practically shooting up from the mattress, you turned your head towards the window.

The more than familiar wild mane of your favourite Hawkins local satanist stood out from between the ends of the bushes growing beneath that window, and the person it belonged to was intently gesturing towards the wooden door of your cabin.

Eddie was wearing his signature grin when you rolled your eyes at him and the idea of sneaking around in the waking hour that was two in the night.

You mouthed a "fine" at him, nodding towards the door, before you silently tried to get up without triggering an avalanche of your roommates awaking.

The sight that offered itself to you as you crook open the cabin door was something you were certain you were going to burn into the core memories of your life.

Eddie Munson on the first of two steps in front of your door, the pathway with the other cabins in the background, in a black tank top, from the darkness you made the colours of his boxers out to be dark blue, his white sneakers but no socks. The scene in your periphery lit only by the low glow of the moon casting its reflection down onto him and his surroundings through the crowns of the pine trees.

A bunch of tattoos were visibly spread over his arms, guitar pick on a chain around his neck, curtained by his luscious curls. A messy bunch of random forest flowers and grass in his tight fist.

What on earth was he thinking he was doing out here? At this hour?

His expression told you.

"Hi", he almost whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips, eyes searching yours, stretching his arm straight and holding the makeshift flower bouquet out under your nose.

As if it was the most normal thing, showing up at someone's cabin in the middle of the night. In the woods. With random flowers he must have picked on the way here?

You snorted at his gesture and the incredible sweetness of it, it was making you blush hard and your heart combust in your ribcage at the thought of him even thinking of bringing you something. At him even being here right now. The innocence of it juxtaposing with his reputation back at home.

"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here?", you whispered back in the same tone, leaning in the doorframe in your usual sleep shirt and – of course, since you were surrounded by girls and you all were comfortable enough with each other – panties only.

Eddie took the next logical step, the one above the one he was currently standing on, getting closer to where you were leaning and recreating the usual height difference between you two.

"I can't fall asleep with Steve snoring", still in a hushed tone, and he paused before a small smile formed on his lips again, "and a bird just told me that the extension of the law, remember when I told you about that? Yeah, well, it got approved, so", he paused again, finding your eyes again with his best impression of a puppy, "could I maybe, you know uh, come in and be rescued from my eternal misery?"

You were very well aware that you'd be sent home immediately if anyone caught sight of you letting a male breathing creature past your doorstep, but since it was 2 am, it was also Eddie Munson gazing at you in the moonlight as if you were the most beautiful thing he ever had laid his eyes on, and you couldn't deny that you most definitely wanted this, the possible consequences of your little spontaneous rendezvous, nagging at your brain like alarm bells, were thrown overboard in an instant.

Grabbing one of Eddie's wrists, you pulled him towards you and inside, trying to close and lock the cabin door as silently as possible.

His presence alone and familiar warmth radiating from his body was already soothing the light rush of adrenaline in your veins from doing something that could get the both of you into quite the trouble, and it didn't take him long to take a step forward, moving his arm that you were still holding on to around you, so you were forced to turn your back towards him while his other snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

He squeezed you to himself for a brief second, acting as a silent thank you, before he let go of you with a wide grin that you were only able to see thanks to the dim light of the moon flooding through the one window between the two bunks.

There was a small sparkle in his eye, a glint of serenity, comfort and endless affection. And relief. So much relief from how you were letting him in, weren't rejecting him like he was used to.

Peaceful breathing was filling the room, a light snore coming from the top bunk that wasn't above yours, and Eddie followed you.

You couldn't believe that you were about to share your small mattress and covers with the one guy you'd been harbouring feelings for over the time span of several months.

Eddie couldn't believe it either.

Mere seconds later, you found yourself caged in by the wall, the bed frame and Eddie's body.

It was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place, the way the two of you were lying there, facing each other, inhaling each others breaths from the close proximity, the covers draped over your bodies, hiding the details of Eddie sneaking an arm around your waist again to pull you impossibly closer, his hand carefully exploring more of the territory he already had started to discover on the bus, calloused yet somewhat soft fingertips almost ghosting up the warm skin over your bare spine.

"You're so pretty."

An inaudible whisper of admission.

You heard it.

An invasion of goosebumps spread over every inch of your skin like a wildfire.

Eddie felt it.

"So are you."

The arm you weren't lying on found its way up, tucking a wisp of his curls that had fallen over his now beet red cheek away behind his ear.

Neither of you wanted to ever stop smiling.

He moved his entire being down a little so his eyes were the same level with your jawline, a low hum escaping his throat at the tip of his nose brushing over the skin on your neck in an upward motion, just like that time in the lake.

It was beyond overwhelming to feel him this close. In your bed.

And for Eddie, feeling you this close was so much better than the countless times he had imagined this happening. He'd imagined what it would feel like, your light illuminating all of him.

You let him use your arm as a pillow, before he nuzzled his forehead against the same spot on your neck, his cheek lightly pressed against your clavicle.

And just when you thought you couldn't get physically closer to him than in this moment, bellies touching, legs wordlessly intertwined and all, he pulled you against him some more. Squeezed you tightly and tenderly, letting you know that this was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

And yeah, it felt quite right to you as well.

Your other arm that wasn't occupied by Eddie's head found its way around his torso, hand rubbing softly over the expanse of his back, and you wondered how much of muscle and softness your fingertips would be encountering if your hand would just cheekily sneak its way underneath his tank top.

Resting your cheek on Eddie's forehead, the warmth, the comfort of wrapping your arms around something to hold onto at night, his steady and satisfied breathing against your own, made you easily drift off into a deep slumber.

Eddie had already passed out the minute you had allowed him to rest his head in the crook of your neck and had draped your arm over him, encasing him in the embrace he so badly needed in order to find his own sleep.

You'd known him long enough to know that he cared about the few people in his life who hadn't let him down, he took care of people that took care of him.

And you wanted to take care of him. In every way you could and in every way he would let you.

Silence filled the single room, steady breaths being in- and exhaled, and you hoped no one had yet woken up to notice your charming little intruder existing in the sacred four walls of the flower cabin.

-----

A ray of sunlight made the shadows of tree leaves dance over the landscape of your face through the window.

You woke up from it, eyelids slowly blinking and then squinting shut again from the sudden invasion of too much light at once.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, namely in the small cabin that you were to call home for the week, with Max still snoozing in the bunk above you, a light snore still coming from Robin's side of the room, and Nancy having probably already left to go for her daily morning jog.

The weight of a semi-tattooed arm was resting on your torso diagonally like a seat belt, indicating that Eddie was even in his sleep very concerned for your safety. He had moved upwards, now a head above yours on your actual pillow and on his side, making his chest slowly rise and fall against your head.

It was peaceful, so peaceful waking up next to him, and it felt like the most natural thing. A very easy morning. As if this wasn't the first time ever.

You rubbed the back of your hand over your eye, the movement causing Eddie's hand to give the exposed skin over your waist, until where your shirt had ridden up, another gentle squeeze, making it known to you that he was, in fact, awake as well.

Craning your head towards the head of the bed, your still sleepy eyes found the warm brown of his for a moment, along with a wide stretched smile playing on his lips, dark stubble running down his cheeks and chin and neck before stopping halfway down, since he had forgotten to shave.

Eyelids fell shut again, but the smile stayed. Just for a moment longer, before he relaxed every muscle in his stupidly beautiful face, allowing your eyes to start their own journey of curious wandering.

You took in the way his nostrils flared a little whenever he exhaled, the tiny wrinkles on the outsides of his big doe eyes, a bunch of light freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way they were being pushed up by the corners of his mouth whenever he gave you that smile, the slightly glowing softness of his skin generally, the way his wild unruly dark mane framed his face so perfectly, the way his cupid's bow sat on the plushness of his pink lips, ...

And oh, you were certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against your own.

You were also certain you were still dreaming, that this entire moment of Eddie knocking on your window and letting him into your bed and him lightly fanning your face with his breath right now was just a dream and you were about to wake up any second to the sound of pesky middle schoolers screaming their way from their cabins to the pergola where you'd usually have breakfast.

But no. This was real. Eddie was real. And he was just so pretty, lying there peacefully snoozing, the expanses of soft bellies still touching, and that wasn't because your mattress didn't stretch wide enough.

"Are you watching me sleeping?", Eddie mumbled, lightly flexing his jaw, eyes staying shut, the smile returning slowly.

If there wasn't a fire in your lower belly burning from all his touches and sweetness already, it damn certainly was now, ignited by the rasp in his low morning voice.

Oh Jesus Christ.

The absolute heat was spreading into two directions, using your heart as its origin. Once again your cheeks heated up, and you felt your thighs clench together involuntarily at the way in which he said those words.

"What if I was?", you mumbled back in a similar tone, trying your best to not let on too much about the effect he was having on you.

Eddie's eyebrows disappeared behind his frizzy bangs. Still refusing to open his eyes.

"Then I'd say you're being a little creep."

He let out a low chuckle while pulling you into his embrace, savouring the moment of having you this close once more and letting you know for certain that he was just joking.

"Pfff, says the guy who literally creeps around my cabin at two in the night."

You could not for the life of you recall a time when his face ever was closer to yours than it was right now, noses almost touching.

"Hey, that was a necessity. We only obeyed the law and I am eternally grateful for your gracious salvation from me meeting my impending doom."

The underlying layer of heaviness of his words was disregarded for now, since you wanted to desperately keep the bliss that came with being so close around him for just a moment longer.

Eddie made you feel like you were the most important person in the entire world, mainly due to his ever prominent abandonment issues. Meaning he never once had really left your side during the entirety of this trip (except for when you had to use the bathroom and, well, sleep – until now), always making sure you were taken care of.

It melted you.

And you didn't mind his clinginess at all. Male validation wasn't something you had to run from in order to save yourself from drowning in it. The opposite was more of the case, you were soaking it up like the roots of a flower that hadn't seen rain in years.

Oh wait, flowers decay at some point if they don't get watered? Well, yeah. You'd almost been there at some point in the past.

"You're such a dork", you remarked his theatrics with a chuckle, before burying your face in the crook of his neck, cheek pressed to his clavicle and nose dipping into the soft skin where neck and shoulder met, "but a very cute one."

A hint of shyness overcame you.

Awaiting his reaction was unbearable.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red at your admission and the fact that you were so very obviously trying to hide your fluster between his shoulder and neck? You going all sweetly shy on him simply made his brain short circuit.

Did you just call him cute?

While your – your – lips (!!!) were so close to his skin, barely brushing over one of his sensitive spots?

No, Eddie Munson was almost certain he was still in dreamland.

Only now he dared to open his eyes, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt the sneaking-into-your-cabin-last-night part either, and let out a sigh at the conscious feeling of your skin that had collided with his palm, your nose at his pulse point, hair tickling his chin.

Then, the realization of that meaning behind your latest words kicked in.

Meanwhile, you didn't dare to lift your head to see his reaction for yourself.

He made you feel it though, when a boost of confidence helped one of his hands find a home on one of your butt cheeks, the arm which your head was still resting on wrapping around your shoulder so his arms were fully engulfing your figure, and his own head dipped down to where your neck was slightly craned.

Tip of the nose brushing up along the expanse of your neck in a singular swift motion of his head, since he already had found out a while ago that you didn't dislike that one, and then?

Then he buried his nose in the hair coming down behind your ear, while his lips slowly, almost carefully placed a peck to where your jaw met your neck, followed by another low hum at the feeling of you not backing away. Of you staying with him.

At first you weren't so sure if you had registered that correctly, but at the same time, judging from the way you could feel a familiar warmth pool between your legs, you were pretty sure he'd just kissed your neck.

Neckneckneck.

Thank fuck he couldn't see the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull at the sensation of his warm lips on your warmer skin.

Months over months of yearning for him, for this, for lying in his tight embrace, against the warmth of his body, longing glances you had directed at him, his innocent arm around your shoulder practically burning through whatever shirt you were wearing on those days, the now occurring realization that his sly remarks and jokes had literally been his way of subtly flirting with you, painting all his glances that had been thrown back at you in a similarly wistful light.

It was all so much at once, yet you already couldn't possibly get enough of him.

You nuzzled closer (if that was even physically possible), your arm squished between your bodies, the arm you weren't lying on wrapped around his torso, hand still underneath his tank top, running your fingertips along the smooth skin over his spine.

Giving back.

A nice concept.

A little less shy now, still cautious though, your lips pressed against the slightly stubbly side of his neck as you craned your head further up.

Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck.

"Mhm, baby."

His almost whispering voice didn't have to travel far from how close his lips were to your ear. Because they still were lingering on your neck, where he countered your admission with another chaste kiss, trying not to overwhelm you.

It was too much. You couldn't take it any longer.

Lifting your head away from his skin, the warmth radiating from his neck engulfing your face, you softly dropped the weight back on Eddie's arm.

A wide smile decorated his face, letting you know that everything was alright with you and him in his book, and in his big brown chocolate orbs you only found affection.

You hoped he could spot the same in yours.

Oh, a surge of confidence erupted inside of you.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Eddie's fingers occupied themselves with a soft dig into the plushy flesh of your ass, while the smile dancing on his lips slowly turned into a cheeky grin, dimples denting his skin adorably, and his other hand craned around your head, thumb bending far enough to run the length of it down your cheek.

"Mhm, darling. Why do you think I've been touching you this entire time?"

Without another moment of hesitation you closed the distance between your faces, lips colliding with his own in the softest way.

You both were now lying on a cloud in heaven.

It was passionate from the beginning, yet not too wild, a fuzzy feeling of warmth spreading through your entire system at the sensation.

The low hums that Eddie let out at the feeling of your lips softly moving against his own was sending your sense of time and space into the void, and the fact that you initiated this was making his head spin like the ceiling fans in Hawkins High's cafeteria.

Slow slow slow movements, your hands wandered up to cup his cheeks, while he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his own, humming against the endless softness of your lips dancing over his.

Each kiss lasted for a few seconds, it was like you were both trying so hard to feel every line and ridge and texture of each other, and also neither of you seem to waste a single care in the world about hurrying up.

"Oh lord Jesus Christ!", Robin's loud voice ripped you out of your little trance as it went echoing through the room.

Right, you almost forgot you weren't existing in your cabin all by your twosomeness.

Despite being caught in the act by just a mutual friend of yours (and not Ms Kelley), the metalhead and you still broke apart hastily.

A hint of panic overcame Eddie at the sudden intrusion, making him let go of you, grabbing the pillow underneath his head and shoving it into the now existent gap in between your bodies, since you had discarded the sheets a while ago. Why need a blanket if you have a perfectly functioning Eddie Munson to keep you warm at night?

It surprised you that he didn't fall off the bed entirely with how close to the edge of it he now was.

A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he realised who really caught him stealing affectionate gestures from you.

Ms Robin Buckley had no problem with the both of you, she just wasn't expecting to find Eddie lying in your bed (slowly kissing you into oblivion) in her periphery while she was digging for her bathroom utensils so she could make sure she'd look less like a corpse for breakfast.

With "whatever this is, I didn't see it" and a loud open and close of the door, she excused herself, leaving you in your solitude.

With Max Mayfield. In the top bunk above you two, which she loudly made you remember as soon as Eddie got up to follow Robin's trace outside with a quick "uh, see you in a bit, sweetness", still clutching your pillow over his front while waddling his way over to the safety of his own cabin in which Dustin was probably still snoring into the next millenium.

"Soooo, what did I just wake up to? Hm?", you heard Max say with the most curious undertone after the door closed behind Eddie, as you rolled onto your back, already finding the emptiness and lack of warmth caused by Prince Metal's exit rather unpleasant.

Your only response was a groan as you pulled the sheets up and all the way over your head.

The pathetic attempt to hide wasn't meant as a long-term solution since your lungs unfortunately started craving oxygen at some point.

"Go away!"

It came out more as a mumble than a yell, mainly due to the muffling effect of the layer of fabric between your head and Max' ears, and as you pulled your head out from under the blanket covering your entire figure only to see Max' head poking out from the bunk above you, her long red mane dangling down towards the ground, you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks.

You had kinda seen it coming already, the struggle with having to explain yourself in the morning when your roommates would find Eddie snoozing peacefully in your arms.

But now it really hit.

You had just slept next to him. Literally kissed your crush. Who wasn't really a crush anymore. To you, Eddie was a lot more than that already.

Max just giggled at your response, jumping out of her bunk and continuing her teasing for the rest of the morning.

Well, at least until you joined the rest of the gang for breakfast.

Today was your last full day, and that meant going on another sweaty (yet beautiful) hike, a heated and intense capture the flag session in which Eddie didn't leave your side once, claiming that as your seat partner he also had the obligation to protect you from potentially evil forest spirits, and you also filled out the day by attending a cooking workshop, pairing up with Nancy.

Eddie – having to detach his everlingering hand on some part of your body throughout the day now – spent time with Max, Dustin and Steve, still successfully avoiding being dragged to the yoga session by the latter.

You guessed they were attending a class about forest herbs and survival tipps, an absolute necessity should they ever get lost in the vastness of a random national park one day.

Peeling potatoes at the counter of the outdoor kitchen, you peered over to the pathway as the group of students including your friends walked past, trying to spot your favourite out of them.

Eddie found your longing glance and returned it, along with the widest grin and a little bashful wave of his ringed hand.

You felt your heart jump at the vision, absentmindedly waving back with the hand that held the potato by two fingers, smiling like the most lovedrunk idiot.

The moment was fleeting, because he collided mere milliseconds later with Dustin's backside, giving the kid a gentle slap on the back of his head for stopping unexpectedly just to inspect the shape of a leaf from the tree next to him, making him look silly and like a total dork in front of you.

Your smile turned into a full on giggle when Eddie gave you a sheepishly yearning last look before the little gathering lead by Mr Clarke continued on the pathway, leading further into the forest and out of your periphery.

God, you loved him.

The day in its entirety was peaceful despite the doom of having to pack up and make sure not to forget anything that might have slipped underneath the beds. You were supposed to leave early in the morning just to be back in Hawkins before nightfall.

Even though you were growing tired of mosquito bites and flies viewing your meals as theirs, you couldn't be bothered to come up with feelings of homesickness. Not when you were surrounded by your loving friend group, Prince Metal and the serene oasis in the forest.

-----

The sun was about to set, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the pine trees swallowing the camp, light breezes of wind making the arms and twigs of the more leafy trees rustle softly every now and then.

Eddie got up from the couch he was lounging on, taking a semi nap in the presence of Dustin, Max and Jonathan after the intense workshop and stuffing himself at the surprisingly rich buffet your teachers had organised for your last evening.

He'd been subtly eyeing you from underneath the tall pergola, chatting and laughing with Steve and Robin by the bonfire which was already rising tall into the sky in the clearing of trees between pergola and pathway to the cabins.

The perfect way your clothes hugged your curves, the thin fabric of your shirt and adding its absolute nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples (also maybe due to you not finding it necessary to wear a bra), the stunning way your hair was shining in the start of golden hour, face illuminated by the fire in front of you, the enchanting way you curled your lips at a joke Steve had made (he even felt a tinge of jealousy creep into the center of his stomach), the entirely dazzling way your shirt had ridden up a little, showing skin between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of it.

And it was giving him ideas.

To anyone else these little things and details didn't seem too worthy to pay attention to, but Eddie noticed. He noticed you stealing wistful glances, making their way over to him here and there (and after the night he had, he was sure they weren't meant for Dustin), he noticed every inch of your skin that would unintentionally reveal itself to him from the ways in which you moved, he noticed the way your smile changed into something so astonishing when directed at him. Special.

You never looked at Steve like that. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Being as chronically touch starved as a metalhead outcast town freak could be, Eddie decided that it was too much. He couldn't not be near you any longer.

Your breath hitched in your throat just as you saw him get up and make his way over to you, a mix of confidence and shyness combined in his strut, before he came to a stop at the end of the log you were seated on, right next to your side.

"M'lady? May I ask her grace to walk with me?", you heard his voice say softly, a distinctly hopeful tone, warm and filled with the bashfulness from earlier in the day. Eddie met your smile with one equally wide.

A hand with ringed fingers was held out to you and you took it.

He lead you away from the group, away from everyone else, down the path towards the cabins where no one was at this hour, after he had intertwined your fingers with his own, the metal of his rings giving your fingers a little extra squeeze.

"It's nice to be sitting with the others and all, and I really enjoyed Dustin's ideas for Hellfire's next campaign, but", Eddie paused as he came to a still in his walk down to where your sleeping quarters were located, turning around to face you as his hand refused to let go of yours, right before continuing in the softest voice, barely audible, "I was hoping we could just leave them for a bit and enjoy the last evening a little more .. in private?"

Eddie leaned in a little closer with every word jumping over his lips.

Until he was inches away from yours, finding your eyes and you noticed the slight change of tone in the warm brown ocean of his. It had turned a shade or two darker as you reciprocated his beguiling gaze.

Oh, how easy it was for you to get entirely lost in it.

"I think that's an intriguing idea, Eddie", you replied with a smile, hoping he'd see and sense the same thing in your own eyes that was so clearly reflected in his. For you and for this reason, it was never difficult to look into them for long. Especially when he was so intently watching you.

A hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer so your bellies would touch, the hand previously attached to yours now cupping your cheek, thumb softly running over the apple of it, head leaning in even further. Eddie's gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back in a matter of seconds, letting you know exactly what he was about to do.

Your hands found the little hairs at the nape of his neck, curling around the sides of it, lightly pulling as the plushness of his lips reunited with yours.

He hummed at the feeling, the moment filled with so much familiarity already. Without breaking contact, he gently cupped the other side of your face with his other hand, holding you there, needing you there.

Ever so softly, your lips moved against his, a moment you wished would last forever.

"I've been thinking about you all day", he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, lips landing on your pulse point. Breathing warmly against the skin there as he mumbled something along the lines of "they kept me away from my cute seat partner for way too long" before letting out a warm chuckle.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, still getting flustered by the directness of his flirting attempts. They were effective though, because you couldn't help but squeeze the back of his neck lightly with one hand while your other sneaked around his waist and underneath the hem of his shirt, reconnecting with its favourite place, the warmth and softness of skin on Eddie's back.

"It is an incredible atrocity indeed", you said with a giggle, making him raise his head back to face you, and the spark in his eyes gave you enough of a confidence rush, "I think we should make up for lost time then."

Waisting not a second longer, Eddie grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, he had you affectionately pressed between the inside of his cabin's door and his body in a whimpering mess.

His kisses were getting hungrier, more demanding, yet there was a gentleness to it that let you know that you could stop this any second if you didn't want it.

"Is this okay, baby? We don't have to do anything if you don't want–", he asked in between sloppy pecks over your cheeks, jaw, down your neck that made you giggle lightly at his manners. It's not like his hands were all over you already, yet he was wondering if anything he was doing was alright with you.

"I can't get enough of you if I'm honest", you cut him off quietly, feeling the heat pooling in your underwear from the sensation of just about everything right now.

You were very well aware of the thing you were about to do. Crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, letting Eddie see you for all that you were, and giving him the freedom to choose.

Spoiler – he chose you.

Had done so since the moment you stepped onto the bus on that parking lot back home.

"Fuck, sweetness, you can't just say stuff like that", Eddie's voice came out huskily, he clearly was getting worked up over your response to his actions since he had you pinned to the door by the hips, his thigh in between yours, while his fingertips explored the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, lips still hovering over the expanse of your neck, brushing his nose upwards along the column of it, but this time a lot more slowly than the previous times.

He seemed to want to savour every single second he was granted access to your body like this, dragging each movement out as far as possible.

His wide, dark brown doe eyes returned to yours as he exhaled, "and expect me to be normal about it."

You didn't waste another second without your lips on his, pulling him back towards you by the chain which was holding his favourite guitar pick around his neck, eliciting a moan against your mouth out of him.

The only thing on Eddie's mind was you you you, the warmth of your perfect skin under his palms, the feeling of your pretty pink lips against his own, even the smell of you alluring him to no end.

Breaking away to catch your breath with eyes still closed, your lips curled into a smile when Eddie's hands wandered higher and higher while leaving goosebumps on the way, thumbs softly catching the underside of your tits, making you let out a content little sigh, as if his hands had just found their home, belonging right there.

His lips reunited with the skin on your neck, a moan escaping them as his thumbs reached your hard nipples, your neck vibrating lightly against his mouth when a moan of your own forced itself out of your lungs and your back arched away from the door for a second.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched you there, never in this way before though, which amplified every little touch Eddie practically worshipped you with.

A shudder ripped through you at the overwhelming sensation, it made you dizzy with want.

"It's so fucking hot when you twitch under my touch", Eddie almost whispered against your neck, and you were certain his voice couldn't drop any lower as he slowly rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, before raising his head just to watch your reaction even more closely.

"Yeah?"

His actions made you swallow hard, well aware of being at his mercy at the moment.

And yes, Eddie Munson continued the torture he was teasing you with.

"Yeah baby", he lightly poked his nose into your cheek for a second, "so what if I told you", he paused again, then kissed the corner of your mouth, "that I actually felt those little twitches", he tenderly kissed his way down over your cheek to your jaw, "throughout the whole week?"

One of his hands now left your chest, only to drop south.

He made it his mission to find out exactly what you liked. Find out what did it for you, what you wanted from him. What you needed from him.

"I'm curious to know what would happen if I touched you", he paused, lips millimeters away from the skin right beneath your ear, "here?"

A hand snaked around your figure, cupping one of your buttcheeks, the need for you heavily evident in the urgency of the touch.

You responded with another moan through closed lips, eyes closed, your hands finding the back of Eddie's neck again, lightly caressing his skin and tugging at the baby hairs there.

"Yeah, you like that baby, don't you? When I touch you here?"

A light spank.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a hum and another moan, cheek rubbing slowly and gently against his scruffy own as your hips involuntarily bucked up against his thigh.

Every movement was slow and gentle right now, yet heavy with hunger for each other.

Eddie noticed. Yet, he decided to take his sweeeeet time and drive you insane just a little longer.

"What about", he paused again, and you felt him smile against your neck as his hand still cupping your chest started kneading a little, rolling the nipple harder just to make sure you actually felt it, "here?"

The back of your head landed against the door with a thud as you moaned and whimpered a little louder this time, the shiteating grin on Eddie's face widening even more, obviously taking pride in his effects on you.

"You're making such pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Would you maybe also like me to touch you", another pause, in which he moved his hand around your hips, boldly cupping the space between your legs through the thinness of your shorts, "here?"

His breath was tickling the skin on your neck, the last word nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, traveling all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Eddie", you whimpered out his name, completely lost in him, moving your own hands downtown to where his hellfire shirt was tucked into the waistband of his light blue jeans, just when you suddenly remembered you had a pair of your own.

Hearing you say his name made Eddie shamelessly buck his hips into yours, failing pathetically at hiding the fact that what he was doing to you was also more than enjoyable for him, since you could clearly make out the heavy bulge straining against his pants, pressed against your hip.

"Mhm yeah, such a good girl for me", Eddie chuckled watching you for another second before reuniting your lips with his own, this time with a force of need, almost greedily taking your lower lip between his own for a second, swiping his tongue along, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

From slow and gentle to a feverish fumble of hands everywhere, it didn't take the both of you long to start freeing each other from the confines of your clothes.

Eddie had lifted your shirt off of you, finally freeing what he'd been dying to get his eyes (and hands) on, and you'd done the same to him, only to take a second to admire the few more tattoos that had until now been hiding from your gaze.

You noticed he was holding his breath, wild mane falling into the sides of his face from your ruffling during heated kisses, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

The only thought in your mind was Eddie in front of you, just a small step away, now in nothing but his boxers, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen before in him, and your fingers twitched with the desire to just touch.

You had run your hand just over the buckle of his handcuff belt, the movement of his pants against his erection already making him hiss a little. You'd run it over the fabric of the black jeans he was wearing, right where he wanted you most.

Because yeah, you could do that, too.

Eddie had found the pace in which you'd opened his belt to be way too slow, but he'd let you go with it anyway, being so lost in you and so lovedrunk (and straight up horny) that he hadn't dared to intervene.

Your slowness-slash-hesitation had a reason. The anxiety and intrusive thoughts of not being good enough, being too inexperienced decided to jump out of its dark corner inside your brain in just the right moment, causing you to back away from him, giving him a second to have his gaze wander over you.

It wasn't that you'd never done this before, there had been a guy you'd more or less been with, but this right here and now was just so different. More serious? Eddie wasn't just a guy. He was your Eddie at this point.

And however this trip would end, things would inevitably be changed between the two of you. And ultimately affect the dynamics of your friend group.

Eddie was a sensitive person. He was able to read the room, sense your hesitation. He closed the gap between you, his hand landing on your hip, bellies touching, hardness pressing against your thigh.

"Everything alright, darling?"

Cupping your cheek with his free hand, he tilted his head to find your eyes, the look in his filled with concern now, wondering if this was still okay for you.

Your arms snaked around his torso, fingertips lingering on his waist. He felt them burn through his skin.

A train of seemingly endless thoughts ran through your head, not knowing how to proceed from your lack of having done this enough times to just know, paired with the expectations you believed Eddie to have of this situation, and therefore, of you.

"Yeah, yeah", you assured him. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe he'd done anything wrong.

"It's just that", you paused, struggling to find the words to explain yourself and the rise of your performance anxiety while trying your best to avoid his puppy doe eye gaze, "I haven't really–"

A warm thumb on your lips cut you off, its hand directing your face towards his, the hand on your hip now lightly digging into the flesh there.

"I know baby, I know", Eddie said, referring to his wisdom with unknown origin to you, exhaling deeply before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your plush cheek, the gesture intending to let you know that you could be utterly honest and vulnerable with him. "Would you like me to show you", another pause, his gaze back on your face, thumb now lightly pulling down your lower lip, "what I like?"

Opening your mouth as a response, the tip of your tongue was briefly met with the tip of Eddie's thumb, causing him to twitch lightly and let out a groan through closed lips.

Everything you did and everything you were in your essence was driving him to the edge of insanity, not surprising after the months and months of thirsting after you in his desperate silence.

And his gentleness with you was making the dark imposter syndrome clouds in your head melt away like Lindor chocolate in mild temperatures.

His eyes bored into yours intently as you stuck your tongue out to meet the base of his thumb, just to drag it all the way up to the tip, before closing your lips around it and suck lightly.

"Mhhm, fuck", you heard him mutter, the effect your actions seemed to have on him giving you enough confidence to let his thumb go with a small pop, your hands still lingering on his waist pushing him a step away from you so you'd have enough space to drop to your knees, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them towards gravity to finally free him.

With precum leaking from the tip, you took a second to admire Eddie's girth and length with wide eyes, and it made your mouth water and your panties even more soaked than they already were.

Taking him in your hand, you smeared the precum down to the base where a light thatch of dark curls sat, leading up to his happy trail which you'd already gotten to lay sight on on the bus, and that time frankly hadn't been the first of you imagining what the place to where that trail was leading looked like.

Leaning upwards, you kept ahold of him, kissing the soft skin of his lower belly right above his curls as his hand buried itself in your hair at the back of your head, letting out a guttural moan when you let your tongue run through the tiny hairs leading up to his navel, just to kiss your way back down again, slowly, gently, all the way over the soft expanse, taking another second to bury your nose in his skin, inhaling everything he was willing to offer you.

He was about to ask you if you could pinch him just to make sure this was reality happening right in front of him, you kneeling all pretty with your hand wrapped around his cock, now slowly lifting it and flattening your tongue at the base to lick a broad stripe up along the underside, making you feel each little vein on the way to his pink tip.

"Jesus, fuuuck, that's it baby", you just heard him encourage you, indeed letting you know what he liked, his grip on your hair tightening lightly.

The fact that you could feel him throb and twitch and hear him whimper slurred renditions of your name alongside small curses gave you a significant ego boost, causing you to find enough confidence to lock eyes with him from underneath your lashes.

"Fuck, and you were worried that you wouldn't be good at this?", Eddie chuckled as he looked down at you in disbelief, his free hand not tangled up in the strands of hair cupping your cheek to affectionately brush his thumb over it, unable to ever get the image in front of him out of his brain.

"Fucking hell, you're being soooo good for me baby, oh my god, yeah, just like that", he mumbled when you started swirling your tongue around the head, softly rubbing the tip of it over the underside every now and then, until you decided to close your lips around him, letting him feel your wet warmth.

It gave Eddie a great idea of a similar place he was dying to discover. Itching.

And it took every little ounce of willpower in him to keep his hips away from giving into the urge to thrust his entire length into the confines of your mouth, so out of respect for you, he channelled his impulses into a symphony of soft moans, quiet mutters of oh, fuck and oh my god, and whimpers of your name as you took him deeper with every bob of your head.

Every little sound escaping him only turned you on even more. You couldn't possibly get enough of seeing him all blissed out and soft for you like this, causing the vibrations of your own moans to make Eddie shudder.

However, he didn't give himself too much time to enjoy the feeling of your mouth taking him, since he was already bending down a little to lift you back up to your feet, before capturing your lips in a hot and heavy kiss while pulling you tightly into his embrace, both of his hands sliding down from your lower back and underneath the fabric of your panties, just to end their journey on your ass and roughly pull you against him.

"I'm gonna cum on the spot if you keep doing that", he'd declared, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, nibbling softly at the skin, making your cheeks flush with heat.

No one had ever said that to you.

You winced at the roller coaster he put you on, his back and forth between rough and demanding and gentle and soft, but you were eating it up.

He was hypnotizing you with every touch and every grunt and every move you felt against your lips.

Not even when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame did he let go of you, resulting in him burying you into his mattress under his weight, commented with a giggle from the both of you.

Moving to your side, he reconnected his lips to your neck and you craned your head up, giving him better access while one of his hands slowly moved around to your front, cupping you through your panties, his middle finger lightly pressing into that very damp spot in the fabric, eliciting a moan out of you.

It was his turn now.

"Wanna make you feel good too, sweetness. Gonna let me, yeah?", his sultry voice didn't even wait for a response, impatient fingers moving the lace to the side before running the middle through your folds, tip of it catching your clit briefly.

"Oh fuck yes!" There it was. You breathed the words out in a whiny tone, your hand reaching down to give his still rock hard cock a few sloppy strokes in return, earning another soft moan against the junction of your jaw meeting your throat.

If the situation wasn't this hot, if Eddie's finger didn't make the room spin, you think you'd be embarrassed to no end with how pathetic your moans were sounding, but the pleasure you were experiencing and the metalhead's tender endearments you were receiving just didn't leave any space for any other feeling.

You just couldn't bring yourself to care.

Eddie didn't care either. In fact, he was bathing in your responsiveness, feeling every single one of your touches in the endings of his tiniest nerve branches. Being the touch starved, crucified town freak and all.

Your neediness for him made his insides turn and his head spin, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you'd let him come this close and do this to you, and your cute little whimpers made him want to give you everything you'd ever silently (or not so silently) request from him.

He felt this entire moment after moment to be a haze, a fever dream he'd wake up from at some point, and for this reason, he didn't waste a single thought on anything else but you.

How infatuated with you he was.

"Mhhm fuck, so needy for me baby, aren't you?", he remarked the way you were bucking your hips against his hand, "drives me fucking nuts."

He lifted his head just so he could watch the way your face crinkled with every slow up-and-down stroke of his finger, gathering your evident arousal on the way before gently pushing it in, indulging the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head for just a second before they opened and found the warm deep dark brown of his own.

"Mhh yes Eddie, need you so bad", you managed to get out as he added his ring finger, stretching you open a bit more under slick sounds of his hand against your cunt.

His face was so close. So close that if you turned your head just a little, your kiss swollen lips could be back on his, giving him one more confirmation that the way his fingers were curling inside of you were doing just the right job. In fact, he was finding spots you could only dream to reach on your own.

You felt more precum leak from the tip of his cock which was resting against your thigh, the slow rut of his hips against yours smearing it between your bodies, causing your brain to short-circuit at the realisation that it was you being the reason for him to act this way.

Only making you spread your legs wider.

"God baby, you're so fucking wet", he trailed off, continuing to slowly fuck his two fingers into your tight entrance, completely enticed with the way you were giving yourself to him, "is that all because of me?"

He just needed to hear you say it.

"Mhh fuck yes Eddie, all for you. For you only."

No idea how you got that out, with the way his fingers felt and the way he was looking at you, all lovedrunk and ready to give you the world.

"You gonna let me have a taste?"

Pulling his hand away and leaving you empty under a protesting whimper, he sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning against them without breaking eye contact and it was driving you mad. You nodded with a dazed smile.

He got up just to drop his weight between your legs, spreading them by planting his palms on the backs of your thighs firmly and pushing them up, panties still to the side.

You held your legs there when he moved his hands down, taking both thumbs to open you up for him, taking just a second to get his first actual look at your pussy and watch it glisten in the dim light of the sun casting its last rays of the day through the denseness of trees and into the room.

Eddie had fantasized plenty for literal months about the way you'd possibly look, but nothing prepared him for the actual sight in front of him.

It made you feel the most vulnerable you'd ever felt, letting him see and touch you this way, yet there was a naturalness to it that made it just so easy to give yourself to him.

Building trust with him seemed to be the easiest thing for you. Surprising yourself there, aren't ya?

And when his tongue shyly took its first swirl around your clit? Nothing was ever easier than Eddie.

Waves of pleasure took over your brain with every lap of his mouth, taking you between his lips, licking, sucking, swirling, slurping, making your thighs twitch with every single one of his moves, and he was (quite literally) eating your responsiveness up, each of his moans against the most sensitive part of your body becoming deeper in sound.

He noticed he could cum just from tasting you as he found his hips inconsistently humping the mattress, hearing your sweet chants as one of your hands found its way back into his unruly mane, encouraging him further in his actions.

"Fuuuck baby, I need you. Need all of you, please?", you whimpered just when the heat in your lower stomach was about to reach its peak, raising your head as your eyes encountered the way he was watching you from underneath his bangs sticking to his forehead, the hand not entangled in his hair busy fisting his bedsheets.

That was the only thing he needed to hear.

You could feel him smile, continuing to do so as he pushed himself up on his knees and crawling a few inches forward to be eye to eye hovering over you, chin, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices, the ends of his dark curls tickling your cheeks. He helped you wriggle out of your panties swiftly, discarding them on the cabin floor to join the rest of your clothes, hands resting on the softness of your thighs as he knelt back to sit on his heels.

He felt his dick twitch between his legs, seeing you lying and spread out underneath in front of him, in all your glory, ready to let him take you where you wanted to be most.

The vision tugging at his heartstrings, knowing how much trust you were instilling in him in order for you to let him go this far with you.

"Eddie, please."

You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, planting one hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked a finger into the chain dangling down like a collar, and without breaking away you pulled him back down with you.

"Yeah? Wanna feel me fill your pretty little pussy?", he breathed out, hands back on your thighs, digging into their plushness.

You believed to hear Eddie's voice to drop an octave, now leaning back again to let the underside of his cock slowly glide through your soaked folds, the head catching on your clit deliciously, making your head spin from having him do this to you.

"God, yes", you moaned out, watching him through heavy eyelids.

Eddie smiled his dimpled smile down at your face, reveling in the sight as he let the tip breach your sopping entrance, giving him an idea of how tightly his cock would be sitting inside of you.

His eyes were fixated on the spot where your bodies were now joined, slowly pushing another inch in as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer.

"Eyes on me, baby", Eddie mouthed at your jawline as he leaned back down to place a quick kiss there, right when he noticed you zoning out, focusing on taking him as best as you possibly could.

Once again your eyes found the warm gaze he was observing your every move with, and soon you felt his lips back on your own, kissing you softly as he slowly pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp out of your lungs at the feeling of utter fullness.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Eddie blinked at you through half-lidded eyes now, nudging his nose against your own before capturing your lips in another heated kiss, sending both of your tongues dancing and a moan from the pit of his lungs vibrated through your system.

Your hands moved up to cup his face, holding him close to you as his trailed up the underside of your thighs, before pushing your knees towards your chest, practically bending you in half and slowly starting to move his hips against your own when he felt you adjust to him.

"Oh fuck, fuuuck you're so tight", Eddie sighed, eyes falling shut at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in like that, and his words ringing through your ears, and hearing him admit to you what you were making him feel? It made you clench around him briefly, goosebumps spread over every inch of your body at the words forming on his tongue.

You were just so warm and wet and soft and so so tight, completely fucked out for him and him only.

"Eyes on me, baby", you repeated his own words back to him with a smile and glassy eyes, completely stunned to feel him like this, slowly filling and leaving you again.

Opening his eyes again to meet your gaze, his lips curled into a wide smile at your sentiment, "gonna be soft with you, unless you want me not to be, yeah?", he leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, forearms now resting on each side of your head, before his last words were nuzzled against your ear, "just tell me, sweetnose."

With his announcement he gave you a few more slow and gentle thrusts, getting both of you used to the feeling, before he moved back up again, holding your thighs spread out against your chest, his eyes glued to where his heavy cock slid in and out of your sopping slick hole.

Heat was spreading through his body, an excessive amount of endorphines circulating through his veins, transporting the desire and hunger for you into the tiniest endings of his nerves, causing his entire system to be in the moment with you.

Same thing applied to you.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace, right after he moved a pillow under your hips, with the aim to hit your sweet spot at just the right angle, slide his entire length in even deeper, making the tip kiss your cervix repeatedly.

Moans and whimpers and grunts and groans from both your mouths where conjuring a whole opera of beautiful sounds you both were reveling in equally as you moved your hips to meet his repeated thrusting, tip of his cock brushing over that spot inside of you each time he moved in to fill the space between your drenched walls.

His entire weight was on you, since he wanted to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Your hands found a home in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and you felt a puddle slowly take its form on the cover of the pillow tucked underneath your ass.

He was so deep, so so deep inside of you, his eyes bored themselves through yours straight into your soul, foreheads touching.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, feels so good", you babbled and moaned against his stubbly cheek, your heavy breath tickling down his own neck, "need more."

The knot in your lower abdomen was already tightening, getting ready to snap from just his feral thrusts and the beguiling way he was eyeing you.

"Yeah baby? Wanna cum for me?"

Your neediness made him chuckle, raising himself up and back on his heels, a strong arm wrapping around your torso and pulling you up with him, into his lap, letting one of his hands rest on and dig into your plush thigh.

He let himself drop on his butt, the hand on your thigh slowly trailing up up up, fingertips and palm climbing softly all the way over your back to come and stay on the back of your neck, encasing you fully and pressing you against his chest, letting you know he needed you just as close as you needed him.

Without even thinking about it your hips started moving against his as you straddled him, your kiss swollen lips finding his own again, panting into each others mouths, and soon enough the knot between your legs came close to snapping, from the change of position, the length of his cock now gliding smoothly against your clit with each rock of your hips, creating the delicious friction you so desperately craved.

"Yes baby, that's it, lose it for me, oh god fuck!", Eddie panted as he felt your hips starting to stutter, his words sending you over the edge, cunt spasming and clenching around him, your frantic breaths hitting his face as your head was thrown back.

He was soaking you up with all the sweet sounds you were making for him, helping you ride out your high, hands moving down to your ass to lift you, just after announcing his own release through a sickeningly deep moan and mumbles of "oh fuck baby, so close, gonna make me– oh shit", hot and sticky saltiness joining your sweet juices, landing in the tight space between your bellies, painting undefinable patterns onto the heated skin.

For another eternity you held each other close, felt his breathing against your shoulder and collarbone as he dipped his head to place a kiss to your throat, moving his hands away from your back to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.

And then, he dropped the bomb.

"Say that you're mine", he still panted, forehead leaning against yours, noses touching as your hands cupped his on top of your cheeks.

It made you chuckle, the fact he was asking this now after fucking you into another dimension, and it made your thumbs brush over the backs of his palms.

You sensed the tension still present in every fiber of his being with the way he was holding onto your face, still needing you close, and since you knew about his abandonment issues to some extent, seeing him all vulnerable like this was tugging at your heartstrings to no end.

None of his usual slightly cocky tone, just pure softness and an open heart was what presented itself to you.

Say that you're mine.

Of course you were his.

Your facial expression softened endlessly, you felt all your insides melt into one big puddle, mouth forming into a small pout, one hand coming down to rest on his own cheek, closing the gap and slotting your lower lip in between his.

You wanted him to feel the amount of affection you had for him, in your eyes, in your kiss, in your touch.

He was supposed to feel loved. Like he should always have felt that he was loved.

"I'm all yours, Eddie. But only if you're all mine."

The look in your eyes said it all. The one in his, too.

Yeah. He was your Eddie. Your seat partner. Your magnet.

Eddie pulled you into him, as if hearing the words come out of your mouth and the way you were looking at him all soft and gooey made all his angst about being dropped and left again slowly vanish.

"I'll need some time to get used to this", he paused, not daring to meet your eye, "I mean, to someone that doesn't just leave after a while."

Since being this close to someone emotionally was about equally far away from any routine for you as well, you met him with utmost understanding.

"That's okay. We're in no rush, right?", you kissed the corner of his mouth, small pecks over the stubbly cheek opposite of where your hand was placed.

You were able to watch him get too much into his head as you spoke.

"You sure about that? I don't think the law of seat partners extends to–"

Your lips pressed to his own cut him off, "you don't need a silly law to make me wanna spend time with you, Munson."

A quick journey of your eyes over his beautiful face, his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a pretty smile, cheeks all rosy and forehead bangs sticking to his forehead from your most recent activities.

"Actually, I've been dreaming of you – and this – since I met you at Steve's for the first time and Dustin introduced you to me as his ultra handsome dungeon master, you remember?", you continued, hoping it would give him an idea how how much you'd been wistfully pining after him, an idea about how wanted he was.

Of course Eddie remembered.

It was the night he had left way earlier than usual because he just couldn't stand being around you without making a colossal fool out of himself for already wanting to be close to you after just thirty minutes of being in the same room, afraid to be coming on way too strong for his reputation and, speaking from experience, ultimately scare you away.

His hands dropped from your face, two strong arms wrapping themselves back around your figure as he breathed in your sweat-sticky scent, desperately trying one more time to glue this memory into the long-term department of his brain.

"Wait, does that mean I could have .. could've had you .. all this time?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, before leaning into him once more, planting another sweet kiss to his mouth.

"Yeah silly, ... all this time."

-----

Home was calling you back into the bleak reality of trying to graduate high school, and you were far from missing it.

Nancy using her famous organizational talents had made sure that Robin wouldn't leave her special pillow behind, and instructed you to look extra carefully for any items that might have flown behind the bedframe.

And she was correct. You'd blindly reached for a little white framed polaroid, only to discover that it was the one of Eddie with his flower crown, eyes squeezed shut, grinning like an absolute idiot.

He still, maybe even more so now, looked angelic.

You'd never forgive yourself if you'd leave that one here.

The ride home was spent with your head on Prince Metal's shoulder for the most part, your back practically lying on his chest, huddled up against him.

And it did take all the strength in the both of you to not constantly be all over each other, especially under the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers.

A few pecks were stolen here and there, the feeling of being entirely lovedrunk making it hard to separate. Thankfully, for the foreseeable future, you didn't have to.

The group had just shot you knowing looks at breakfast, Max, Robin and the older guys who had seen you wrapped (and very covered up, Eddie had made sure of that) in Eddie's sheets in the morning responsible for not being able to keep their beaks shut.

For the long hours you'd be spending on the road, Eddie had organized a restock of snacks at the only supermarket in the first town you'd stopped at on the way.

"As your designated seat partner, it is so hard to keep my hands to myself", you mumbled into the fabric of the dark and washed out Metallica shirt covering his shoulder with a sheepish grin, as your hand slowly disappeared into the bag on his lap, pulling out whatever box of cookies he'd chosen.

Eddie couldn't help but snort at your innuendo and the way you were using his own joke on him in return.

Lowering his head, planting his cheek against your temple, whispers.

"Oh baby, just wait until we're home."

-----

taglist: @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @spellbounddd, @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint, @mystars123, @gothmingguk, @kennafild, @chloe-6123, @michaelfuckinglangdon, @analogkraken, @mrsjellymunson, @kimmi-kat and @bakugouswh0r3

if you're on this taglist, please consider reblogging as it helps and is greatly appreciated. thank you for reading!

#oh my god #it is here #part 4 #the law of seat partners #i hope this isn't too bad #my nerves #sorry for the wait #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things 4 #nora writes

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manicplank · 2 months

Text

The Color Pink (Part 3)

Noisecouple noisecouple noisecouple noisecouplenoisecouple NOISECOUPLE NOISECOUPLE NOISECOUPLE

NOISE COUPLE

N O I S E C O U P L E

This one is loooong. I have no regrets.

Another morning, another alarm, another tired Hazel. As much as she loved her career, she wished she chose something that happened a little later in the day. She did her morning routine as usual. She was a bit more motivated lately on account of her last encounter with The Noise. Every day she hoped and hoped that he would come in again. The last time they spoke, it was more than just small talk. She really felt a connection with him. She got extra dolled up and pretty each day. She was taking extra good care of herself. She didn't want to get in her own head, but... She had a bit of a crush on The Noise. The next time she saw him, she wanted to impress him. Unfortunately, she took her sweet time and ended up being late!

She rushed over to the cafe. The Vigilante and a couple of The Pig City police were waiting for her at the door. "Hazel," The Vigilante greeted her cheerfully. "You look bright and awake." She smiled as she unlocked the door. "Thanks," she said, "I accidentally took my time this morning. Sorry for being so late!" She hurried back behind the counter and started the brews. She scattered around try to ready mugs. She went to hand menus to the cops that had sat down, but they denied the menus and said they wanted their usuals. She headed back to the counter. "Vigi, want your usual, too," she asked him. He nodded, "Mhm!" She settled a little as she didn't want to mess up any of the orders. She served out the coffees and apologized again for being so late.

It was still early morning when the piggy police got up and left. They paid, but as usual, left no tip. The bell rang as they left. She sighed, finally coming down from her anxious rush. "Doing alright, today," The Vigilante asked.

"I'm doing okay," she responded. "I'm just feeling... different, lately."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I... Well, it's hard to explain. I feel like... something is waiting for me. Something good, something nice."

"That must be a good thing."

"Yeah. At least, I hope."

---

It had been a few days since he went to the cafe, but The Noise was still feeling a bit energetic and spry. He kept thinking about going back. He figured it was just his caffeine addiction kicking in again. It had been so long since he had good coffee. He thought about that girl and how sweet she was. He couldn't remember her name... Yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. She was so blunt with him. She didn't treat him like some godly celebrity like everyone else did. He was starting to think he liked her. But only as a friend, totally just a friend. Or maybe she was just displaying good customer service...

He was too picky and stubborn to drink the pizza-flavored coffee. His sluggishness in the morning was definitely an obstacle when it came to early morning filming. He yawned. He had completely slept through his alarm, but thankfully, he set it earlier than need be. He knew he would oversleep. He absolutely despised early mornings. He got out of bed hesitantly. He groaned as he stretched out. He sighed. He swished some mouthwash around his teeth and spit it out. He quickly got dressed in costume and headed out. He still had some extra time, so he figured he'd stop by the cafe.

The bell rang as he walked through the door. The Vigilante turned around on the stool and stared. It was The Noise. The Vigilante wasn't a big fan of him. He knew he was a criminal in The Pig City, and he wasn't too keen of him being around Hazel. She turned around to face the door. She gasped and clasped her hands together when she saw that The Noise was back in her cafe. "Hey," she greeted excitedly. "Hey," he spoke softly.

"You're here real early!"

"Yeah, early morning on the set today."

"Well, what can I get you?"

He yawned and sat down at the counter. The Vigilante's eyes followed him the entire time. The Noise stared back. "I don't know, yet," he said.

"Here," she handed him a menu, "this should help."

He read the menu for a few minutes. "Ehh, I think I'll do a hot coffee, dark brew, half n' half, caramel syrup, and three sugar."

"I'm on it!"

The Vigilante stared The Noise down. Noise stared back with a grimace. If looks could kill, they'd both be dead. Hazel went to make his coffee but stopped in her tracks. "Oh, I forgot to ask," she aired, "was this for here or to go?" Originally, The Noise was going to order to go, but the way The Vigilante looked made him want to stay just to piss him off. "You know what," The Noise said as he stared The Vigilante in the eye, "I think I'll stay here." He smiled deviously. His face switched as he looked over to her.

"I hate to ask this," he laughed a bit, "but what was your name again?"

She handed his coffee to him. "My name's Hazel." She looked at him and smiled.

"Sorry, my memory isn't the best." He sipped his coffee and rested his chin on his hand. He gave The Vigilante the side eye then looked back to her.

"So, have you been doing any better?"

"A little bit, actually. I've been trying my best to make it better, you know?"

"How so?"

"For starters, I've been taking better care of myself. Stopped drinking as much. Been getting more sleep."

"Oh, yeah? That sounds much better for you."

"Yeah. How about you?"

"I've been doing the same. Well, the taking care of myself part, not the drinking." She giggled nervously.

He chuckled. "So, you're drinking more?"

"No, no! I meant-"

He laughed again. "Kidding! I'm kidding!"

She sighed in relief and laughed with him. "Oh, my gosh, you're ridiculous.

The two stopped laughing and the room fell silent. "You know," The Noise cleared his throat, "this might sound crazy, but..." He looked down at the counter and twirled his finger in a circle.

"What is it?"

"Would you, uh... be willing to go to lunch with me, sometime?"

The Vigilante gasped in disbelief, and Hazel gasped in excitement. "Are you serious?!"

The Noise looked up at her. "Dead serious."

"Of course! I mean- yeah, sure, whatever."

The Noise laughed. "Playing it cool, huh? You got a pen and paper?"

"Yeah, here." She handed him a pen and a small notepad from her apron.

He stuck his tongue out as he wrote on the paper. "Here," he tore the paper off and handed it to her, "this is my number. Give me a call, and we can make some plans." The Noise's phone began to ring. "Speaking of phone calls... That's one of the people on set. I'm running a bit late, so I gotta go." He stood up and took out his wallet. "What do I owe ya?"

"Oh, uh, hold on, I have to ring you up."

"You know what, just take this." He pulled out $100 and handed it to her. "Keep the change."

Hazel was completely shocked. "What?! No, I can't take this!" She tried to hand it back to him.

"Please," he grabbed her hand gently, and she blushed. "Keep it. Think of it as a tip."

He winked and headed off out of the door. The Vigilante was still staring in complete shock. "The HELL just happened," he shouted. Hazel was still starstruck. Her brain was still processing the fact that The Noise just gave her his number. Her heart was racing.

"HAZEL!"

"Whaa?!" She shouted as she snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry, Vigi."

"Why the hell would you wanna go out with a crook like him?"

"Are you kidding me? I have, like, the biggest crush on him!"

"He's a criminal!"

Hazel immediately got defensive. "Vigi, I'm sure you've done some bad things in your life, too."

"You'll be in danger!"

She gave The Vigilante a look and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Do you want a refill or not?"

"Nah, I gotta get going, too." He slowly lowered himself from the stool. "And stop lookin' at me like that. I'm just worried for your safety."

"And if I need you, I will call you." She rang him up, and he paid her. "Rest assured, Vigi. I'll be fine. Here's your receipt."

The Noise lit a cigarette as he walked down to the third floor. He was shaking and his heart was racing. He couldn't believe he just asked her out. He exhaled smoke and took a deep breath. His phone rang again, but he sent it to voicemail. He took his time walking to the NTV building as thoughts raced through his head. What did I just do?! Why did I do that?! I didn't even think it through! I mean, I keep thinking about her... No! It's fine, it's fine... Everything will be fine.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #noisette #the vigilante #pizza tower fanfic #fanfic #pink fic

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embodyingchaos · 7 months

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ive tried searching Michael cera x reader and nothing shows up but you :( please write about him I'm begging 🙏

❥ i feel you on this one, nobody ever writes about him! i'm not sure if you want something for the actor or one of his characters but i've decided to write about the man himself! AND IM SORRY THIS IS REALLY LATE AND REALLY SHORT AAAAAA

on-set, off-set pairing: michael cera x actor!fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: none, just goofyness, BUT THIS IS VERY UNEDITED word count: 538

with her brown hair swishing from side-to-side, she strutted into the scene in her purple and blue glittery swimsuit. “hi barbie!” she greeted the other blondes and brunettes scattered across the sandy beach. “hi barbie!” “hi barbie!” “oh my god, popstar barbie..” a tiny whisper said, making her turn towards the quiet sound. “h-hey barbie!” the voice was coming from a redhead she didn’t realise stood next to her the entire time. “oh, hey allan!” she replied as he nervously giggled.

“cut!” a voice yelled out causing the cameras to stop filming. the barbie placed her hands on her hips and leaned towards the one and only allan. “that was already so much fun.” she told him, grinning. “it was. too bad the others are going to have to film on different days though, huh?” allan’s actor, michael, stretched as he talked to his girlfriend of two years.

greta walked towards the two, “good job, guys! it was exactly how i imagined it.” she smiled at the couple, “for the next scene, i was thinking you could move nearer to the barbies before ken tries to impress stereotypical barbie?” she asked y/n who only nodded, “oh yeah, sure!” “great.” greta walked away from them to converse with the crew for the next scene.

michael took in the scenery of the set for a bit as they waited for the rest of the cast to arrive. ryan was one of the first ones there. “hey, ry.” the girl greeted him, waving. “hey, lovebirds.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “how’s it going?” “going great! filmed that hi barbie scene for our part.” “mmm, bet it’s going to turn out great.” he gushed, crossing his arms.

“we hope so.” michael said, watching the rest of the cast walk into the studio.

the two had coincidentally been casted in the same movie without each other’s knowledge, which was hard to understand at first until they explained it in an interview after the movie had just been released.

“actually,” y/n started, “i’d gotten cast around 2020 and kept it a secret from basically everyone because i really wanted it to be a surprise, like nobody knew at all! until i showed up on the first day of filming and saw this guy!” she nudged her boyfriend’s rib and he laughed. “it seemed as though we had similar ideas on surprises because i got casted really last minute and so when i heard of the role i immediately thought ‘oh, y/n’s gonna freak out when she watches this movie and sees me there.’ then what do i know? she’s standing on set in her popstar barbie costume.” michael scoffingly laughed as the rest of the cast chuckled along.

“so, how is it working on set with your partner? any interesting quarrels that might have happened?” the interviewer asked and they shared a look. “nope. totally none.” “yeah, we have a very professional relationship on the job, i’d say.” their comments make greta snort, “they banter quite a lot on set, actually.” she jabbed, “very distracting.” ryan shook his head, “tut tut. how unprofessional.” he commented, making the others giggle.

michael and y/n only smile, how can they deny the truth?

#allan #barbie #barbie allan #michael cera #michael cera x reader #michael cera oneshot #established relationship #actor au #michael cera x fem reader #michael cera x actor reader #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #popstar barbie reader #michael cera masterlist #allan sherwood #allan oneshot

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krikeymate · 11 months

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Can you write out the Tara falling asleep on Kirby for the first time idea a bit more? Please!? 🥹 I love that thought so much! Sam needs to be there too. I need the exchange of touched glances between Sam and Kirby, both realising that this is a big moment (for all of them). Maybe a sweet whispered conversation. It doesn’t matter if it’s Sam‘s or Kirby‘s POV… and you can also choose if it’s canon or an AU. I just… my heart needs it and your writing is always so perfect <3

"Hey, Kirby do-"

Sam's loudly shushed by the woman in question as she walks back into the living room.

When Sam had left, Tara and Kirby were watching some black-and-white film about a guy and his mutant baby... or something. She'd disappeared about 30 minutes in with an excuse about getting a drink. That had been an hour ago.

(No one had come after her, so she guesses she hadn't been missed. Which stings a little. What if she hadn't returned because she was being brutally murdered in the bathroom? Was Tara really just going to sit there and continue watching her movie, entirely unaware of the danger lurking behind the corner waiting to strike?! No Sam, you're being ridiculous.)

Now, Tara's horizontal and spread out over the couch, head in Kirby's lap and fast asleep.

Kirby's wide-eyed and straight-backed, tense and terrified to move. It's kinda funny, to see the fearless, snarky, quick-quipping Kirby Reed bought low by being used as a pillow.

Help me, she mouths at Sam, pointing down at her sister.

Sam's a little surprised, Tara hasn't been able to fall asleep around anyone other than her since... everything. She's secretly been relieved by the situation, glad she doesn't have to try and instigate a no-sleepover rule about Chad. Tara's been getting too good at winning arguments these days.

Her heart fills with affection at the realisation that although Kirby is uncomfortable with the situation, she still doesn't want to wake Tara.

"Looks like she's pretty comfortable, be a shame to wake her," Sam whispers, walking around to the back of the couch.

"Sam!" Kirby whispers back, as loud as she dares, twisting to face her. "She can't stay here, I have to get home soon."

She freezes as Tara mumbles in her sleep, head nuzzling further into Kirby's leg and an arm stretching across them.

Sam's lips begin to twitch in the beginnings of a smile. "Well wake her up then." She takes great joy in the look of disbelief that spreads across Kirby's face.

"I can't do that! It would be wrong... like kicking a puppy or pushing a cat off your lap."

Sam hums, patting the back of the couch and stepping backwards. "Sounds like a you problem."

She begins to walk backwards out of the room. "Welcome to the family, Reed." Sam can't help but snigger at the way Kirby desperately whisper-shouts after her.

Her sister's in good hands, she knows.

Kirby huffs, blowing some loose hair out of her eyes. She can't believe the nerve of Sam, leaving her to fend for herself against what may possibly be her greatest foe: Tara Carpenter, with the sad brown eyes and the adorable grin she gets when excited. Kirby was defenceless against her when Tara was just a toddler being babysat by her mom, when she was freshman-Sam's kid sister, and even now as an adult, the woman she can't kick off her lap because she can't bear to wake her.

She thought they had a bond, and now Sam's betrayed her.

Kirby stretches out her legs, resting a hand on Tara's back for a moment, so she doesn't move her too much and disturb her, and reaches over the back of the couch to pull off the blanket covering it.

She throws it over Tara's body and switches off the tv, dropping the remote to the floor. She can't do anything about the lamp, she'll just have to make the best of it.

She leans back and closes her eyes, glad that she doesn't have to go back to the hotel and spend another night alone.

This is kind of nice, she thinks. She's always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. Now she has two.

#/mp #ask box #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #Kirby Reed #this is canon btw #who can guess the movie mentioned that I saw a little bit of as a child and was traumatised by!!!#this isnt the touching moment you asked for but it felt natural. actions in the moment. feelings in the after.

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mywrittengartgallery · 1 year

Text

PEDRI - Second regard

Words : +4,6k

Warning : Fluff / medical terms

Summary : You had never believed in love at first sight anyways. Neither had Pedri. That’s probably why both of you had needed another chance to meet.

☁️

“I can’t do it Martha !” you gasped, a stressful wave taking over you. You clutched the jersey you were holding, close to hyperventilating as you were frantically looking around you. Oh, how much you hoped he wouldn’t show up.

“Yes, you can, obviously you can. You just have to use that pretty mouth of yours and to stretch your arm…” she rolled her eyes before pushing you a little bit forward. You stumbled, turning around with a dark gaze, ready to swear at her. She only shrugged before pushing you again, more gently this time.

“It’s nothing Y/N, really!” she really tried to reassure you, but she had put you in this situation in the first place, so she could keep it. You gulped and took another step, eyeing the counter where a little group of people were waiting.

You might want to know what was going on? Well, you had been waiting at the fcb shop for Pedri to sign his jersey, with a bet weighing on your shoulders. It’s a combination of several things that led to this: to begin with, your brother’s birthday in a little more than a month who was a big fan of the mentioned player, then your university having some sort of deal with Barça and so allowed you to meet some of the players this afternoon. They thought it would be good publicity for the club to show that they cared for the Barcelona youth, even if they had nothing to do with football. Obviously, you had taken it as an occasion to get a special gift for your brother’s eighth birthday, even if it meant losing three hours of your time, you might as well get things done. However, your friend, who you happened to share an apartment with, had other ideas. She knew your taste in men, she knew how you liked them and she had always joked that your brother liked his players like you liked men. With an entire thinking process, she had come to the conclusion that you just had to try something with Pedri. She had probably occulted the part where it wasn’t only your choice, like the boy had probably a girlfriend and if not, well he had many many girls to see before even thinking about you. In the end, with her pushy comments and the drinks you had had the night you had discussed it, you had agreed to give him your insta. Here you were now, completely regretting your life choices and contemplating chickening out.

“Oh, here he comes…” she had whispered it but it felt like she had screamed it to your ears. God, your hands were shaking and you were already feeling ashamed. He would so reject you, you knew it. It’s not even like you cared that much, you weren’t really interested in him, you hadn’t even paid him a second thought, but a bet was a bet. You didn’t feel like getting humiliated in front of everyone. That was what was disturbing you, and if someone had the guts to film this ? You would just die right on the spot. You finally looked up, feeling lightheaded, and took small steps while other students were taking pictures and asking him to sign their shirts. The queue was getting shorter and shorter, that was just awful. You weren’t sure if you would have preferred being at the end of the queue in order to brace yourself, or right at the beginning so you wouldn’t have had time to think and just going through the motion. Stuck in the middle ? The worst. You looked around, other players were there too, each having their own counter. You had recognized De Jong, Dembélé and Koundé. They seemed, nice…

“Y/N, come on!” Martha whispered as she nudged you. Alright, only one person before your turn. The blondie slipped a small paper in your hand, your insta in black ink on it. It could have burned your hand with the way you retrieved it. You tried to rationalize. He was a normal boy: your age, brunette, not that tall, a little bit lanky, brown eyes and a nice smile. He didn’t appear that threatening and as you were watching him interacting with your fellow student, he seemed quite polite and nice. You had nothing to worry about, right? He wouldn’t laugh at your face or make fun of you in front of everyone ? That would be totally out of the way, degrade his reputation even. Sure… But maybe he could ignore you, or something. You didn’t know what to think and nothing seemed to ease you. Pedri gave back the jersey, thanking the young man and nodded, it was your turn. You took a deep breath, not daring meeting his eyes.

“Hello” it was practically a whisper but you were sure that if you had said it louder, he could have heard the shakiness in your voice. He smiled politely and returned the salutation, grabbing the jersey you were holding out.

“Name ?” he had asked as you were petrified. He definitely thought you were weird; you were so dumb. You cleared your throat and said your brother’s name. You saw how his movements were fluid, he was obviously used to this but it still amazed you, his writing wasn’t half bad you noticed. He gave it back to you as you thanked him, still not meeting his gaze. You would have to make sure Martha was going to regret this.

“Want a picture?” he asked, obviously he would, it was the usual thing to do after all the signing stuff. However, you were so out of it that you declined, earning a surprised expression from him and a roll of your friend’s eyes. You didn’t really want a memory of the humiliation that you would go through. So, no thanks; it was enough seeing him all around Barcelona, his face on everything. You didn’t need it on your phone. He shrugged and was ready to continue with your friends. It was now, you had to do it.

“Also…” you swiftly put your paper in front of him, his hands two centimeters away of it. He took it, opening it and seeing what you had written. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it right away. That was awful to live, his eyes seemed apologetic and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Y/N, what are you doing ?” asked Daniel, another student who took the same class as yours. You laughed, a laugh that literally meant: I don’t know how to react, nor what to say so I laugh to make it less awkward but this makes it just weirder. You had forgotten about the rest of the students, they had seen it. Damn, your life was going to be hell.

“Bye!” you exclaimed and turned around, grabbing Martha’s arm, trying to go faster and faster towards the exit. Maybe you could go on a walk near the beach so you could drown in the Mediterranean Sea. Still, your tried to steal a look at him, see what was his reaction. He had dismissed it, carelessly giving it to his manager. The older man was talking to him, probably asking him what to do with it. The Canarian had only shrugged. That’s how your paper met the bottom of the trashcan. You would lie if you denied that you hadn’t felts a small pang in your chest.

___

“You analyze it and make a full report to me after you’re done” you nodded, internally rolling your eyes at the doctor’s words. It would be your fourth ECG this morning and you were more than annoyed with counting the squares within the R-R interval, the red color of the paper messing with your eyes. You followed her in a corridor that seemed way more crowded than before. Your brows furrowed, not remembering your supervisor’s schedule this full.

“Lucas ! You make him pass the stress test alright ?” she, again, asked without much warmth in her voice, to the junior doctor. He nodded, just like you, and took a clip board with many papers. You followed him, joining another fellow student on the way, until you entered a room that was even more crowded than the previous corridor.

“What’s going on ?” you asked, confused, to the brunette who seemed less surprised. You put your hands in your lab coat pockets while tiptoeing to see over the sea of people.

“Well, the Barça sent their players to pass their stress test here, don’t know why though... Do they do this every year?”

“Huh?” you had never heard of that before. You would assume that this club would have their own medical room and their own doctors, why come to a University hospital? Well, it wasn’t your problem so you shrugged and turned to the junior doctor that would lead the procedure in a moment. You had just one wish, that your patient wasn’t one of them because you weren’t confident enough to work in front of that much people.

“So Y/N, let’s go there...” he pointed at another door that led to a smaller room and with far less people. “Our patient is Pedro González López, 19, born on the 25th of November, no known pathologies neither past surgical procedures. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t frequently drink alcohol, lives in a pretty recent building, so no risks of contact with asbestos...” he delivered his speech in one go, reading his notes and going through the crowd, not looking if you were still behind him. Thankfully you had quick legs... Registering everything, you tried to anticipate for the potential questions he would ask you. You wouldn’t lie, you had felt a wave of relief hit you when you had heard the name. It wasn’t familiar at all, meaning he wasn’t a Barça player, so no crowd, no hawkin eyes, no possible judgment.

Finally you entered the room, Lucas, the Junior doctor’s name, directly going to the computer on the desk. Three large screens were displaying tables with numbers in many colors, one with an heart line completely flat considering there wasn’t anyone attached to the electrodes. A treadmill was on the side, cables and a mask hanging on one of the arc. He clicked on some settings, adjusting the ranges and choosing the datas he wanted to see.

“So, what payload range should we use for him ?”

You tried to think a little while remembering all of the infos he had given you.

“I would say 30W every 2 minutes?” he nodded, and typed it on the computer, not even glancing at you. You rolled your eyes and leant against the wall, making yourself small because you knew they kind of hated students being around. Sure, you didn’t have the biggest utility and you kind of were in their way but you had to learn at some point. While you were waiting like a kicked puppy on the side, and your senior was busying himself, you both heard a knock on the door, turning around at the same time to look at a woman standing in front of you.

“Pedro is here.” she said, with a cold voice as she seemed pretty stuck up, with her black tailor and patent heels. Even Lucas looked surprised by the blatant display of disdain. However, he didn’t comment on it and made a sign for him to come. What was going on today? Everything seemed so weird, especially people.

And everything just got weirder, even worse, awkward. A “your age, brunette, not that tall, a little bit lanky, brown eyes and a nice smile” boy entered the room. Pedro is Pedri apparently. Your eyes were wide and a deep blush had began to paint your cheeks. For the first time in your student life, you felt relief for being so unashamedly ignored and forced to raze the walls. You couldn’t do this, not with him. Lucas did his work, as usual, asking questions, writing everything down and taking in the youngster, obviously without showing any emotion, because it would be weird for him to do so. You were now making one with the wall, your hands glued to it. You couldn’t hear well what was said, from being farer than you should from the interaction, but now Pedri was taking off his T-shirt while sitting on a medical bed and you hadn’t been prepared for it. Quickly, you diverted your gaze in favor of focusing on the weird pattern of the floor. You wanted to keep it like that, until you felt eyes burning holes on you. It was your cue to look up again, what kind of nightmare was that? You did it, at first meeting junior doctor’s eyes which were void of emotion, normal, then Pedri’s. He smiled at you, a nice one that wasn’t the biggest he had in stock you assumed, but a faint one that still let small crinkles form on the corner of his lips. His eyes were displaying a certain warmth, kindness, the type of look you have when you meet someone for the first time and you genuinely want to politely establish the first contact. That made you question if he remembered you, then you thought a little and probably not. To begin with you had your mask on, and he had probably met a hundred girls since the last time you saw him. So you decided to take it like that and sighed, relief washing over you as you relaxed a little.

“Y/N?” Lucas voice interrupted your inner rant. He was now annoyed.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to take the constants or not ? Listen to his heart maybe ?”

His voice clearly indicated you that he thought of you as dumb, and maybe, maybe just for this time, you would allow him to think that because really, you knew you had to do it and he shouldn’t have had to tell you to do it.

That’s how you found yourself in front of the youngster of the Barça, stethoscope in your ears as you approached him.

“That might be cold...” you said lowly, your voice just above a whisper, not daring meeting his eyes. Yet, you could feel him looking intently at you as you brought the chestpiece to his chest, his deep brown eyes detailing your face. The metal piece met skin, goosebumps running on his skin, and you saw it, just like you saw the shuddery breath he had let out. That had made you feel strange, a little fire budding in you. His heartbeat was soft, calming even. It was steady, not too fast and loud, easy to hear. And that made this budding fire just sprout sparks around. How could it be so intimate when you were doing this all day? You then went to his back, instructing him when to breathe in or breathe out, feeling his rib cage moving with it.

“Do it entirely Y/N, so you can get used to it.”

You nodded and went back to face the midfielder, shying away from his glances. You turned around the chestpiece, opening the smaller one so you could hear through it. With an hesitant hand, you put it on his neck, trying to find the carotid artery in the small area. He wasn’t helping much, especially when you felt his faint puffs of air meeting the skin of your hand. It was hard to focus and even more now as you were beginning to feel self conscious: you couldn’t find the soft thumping of blood. Finally meeting his eyes, you cleared your throat.

“Could you turn your head please ?” you asked as you showed him the opposite way. He obliged without saying anything, letting veins appear, creating relief on his olive skin. Finally you found the right spot, hearing the steady rhythm that matched with his heart.

“Everything is alright” you said as you straightened up, turning around so you could escape the grasp Pedri had on you right at the moment. It didn’t make sense: you could have sworn that you had never really been attracted to him. It had just been a bet about him, you hadn’t spared him a second thought, never thought of him like that. You could even say you hadn’t think of him at all, apart from the shame of this past moment that would hit you whenever you would hear his name. He had rejected you, not outwardly, but it had hurt you. Even without caring, the action hurt. And now this ? You wanted to say that it was the rush of seeing him right when you couldn’t imagine it, or not being prepared to see him again. Certainly a part of truth was there. But, attraction? This weird pull you felt, the way your breath would catch in your throat every time you got closer and had to touch him. Medical fields required some sort of intimacy, invasive touches and could easily make patients uncomfortable, but that was not it. It was something entirely different that unsettled you. His shy glances, your need to avoid it, the goosebumps... It was too much and so confusing. He was confusing because you couldn’t recognize the boy from the store right at the moment. His demeanor towards you had changed.

Without having to be told, you took the ECG’s electrodes and put it on his naked chest, circling around his left pectoral muscle, small colorful dots contrasting with the tan of his skin. He was holding his breathe, you could sense it. Your touch was light, not wanting to apply too much pressure, avoiding to make it last a second too long. Yet, it made it just that more personal, because his body was trying to respond to it by sending shivers down his spine and quickening his heart rate. He was as lost as you, not understanding what was going on with him and his mind.

Minutes passed and the paper offering the heart line had finally been printed entirely. It had seemed so long, waiting for it in silence, not daring starting anything with Pedro.

“Y/N, can we discuss about it now?” the doctor who had sent you here said. You slightly jumped, unaware of her presence. She had came silently, looking intently at you while tuning out Lucas. You knew she disliked him, though you weren’t sure why and you weren’t really in a place to pry. She was looking down at you, her being way taller than you added to her severe stare could only intimidate you.

“sure, but he didn’t pass the stress test yet? I can’t make a full synthesis with that?” you said unsure. She crossed her arms and shrugged, not caring one bit about what you were saying.

“Stitches needed in the ER, so we just debrief this fast and then you go there.” she said, not letting room for debate. Not like you would actually try to go against her words. You nodded and unfolded the paper, putting in on the table as you took a pen out of your pocket. She came closer, arms still crossed. That was only now that you felt self-consciousness wash over you, not only was she testing you but Pedro was also interested in what you had to say. You couldn’t make any mistakes.

“There is no sinus bradycardia...” you said, unsure if she wanted to hear it.

“Why bring that up?” she asked, genuinely curious and you cheered inside, you had marked a point.

“Because half of the athletes have a heart rate inferior to 50bpm, also often associated with respiratory arrhythmia.”

“Is there one here?”

“No” you said, this time more confident in your answers. She nodded and scribbled down on the ECG.

“Also, the QRS complex is hypervolted, which can be an explained by a right atrial hypertrophy, however the Sokolow index isn’t positive, therefore it’s benign.” she wrote down everything you had said and circled the lines you had talked about. “It’s a physiological adaptation from his heart, so he can have a wider range of adaptation through the exercise...” you added sensing that all the words you had said could put Pedro on edge. You had used scary words, hypertrophia isn’t generally a good sign, for anything really. You felt that it was the right thing to do to explain it better. She nodded again, passing the paper to Lucas and then, finally, she decided to put her eyes on you.

“You can go now, they are waiting for you.” and that was all she had to say.

While you put back your stethoscope in your pocket, you looked up, meeting Pedri’s gaze. He smiled at you, a hint of something you couldn’t decipher tingling in his dark orbs. You waved lightly and left without a word. Why did you wave ?

What you didn’t know though, was that your action hadn’t phased him one bit, the contrary actually. He had found it endearing and maybe it only was the cherry on top. He had felt all of the tension clashing between you two during his auscultation, how his skin had reacted to the simple graze of your fingers, which had been so delicate. He knew you had felt it, if how you had seemed fidgety was to say anything. He hadn’t been able to entirely see your face, disappointment hinting its way in him, but your eyes could put him in this strange trance by themselves. How could they hold so much, sparks of concentration littering the deep color of your irises. And your voice, it was sweet, and the shy edge it held was even sweeter. The way you had answered everything with ease, how you knew what you were talking about, the over-explaining. That had left him wanting, no, needing more. Who were you ?

“Pedro? We will start in a bit” said his manager, who had been standing on the side all along.

“Sure, but before...” he gulped and turned around to face the older man, “Could you find me the insta from the girl who was there?” he asked, voice low and a faint blush on the apple of his cheeks.

His manager frowned and came closer so this conversation could stay only between them, no curious ears catching words of what was going to be said.

“The student one ?” at that, the midfielder nodded eagerly, pleading with his eyes.

___

“I can’t believe we are here Y/N! That’s the best present ever!” your brother screamed as he held onto the barrier preventing him from falling down. His little jersey, with a giant eight on it, still looking a bit too big on him. What a coincidence that the number of years he had lived and that you were celebrating today was the same number printed on the back of the young man who had quite deviated your life from its axis recently. A fond smile found its way on your face as you watched over him, his fluffy hair ruffled by the wind and his grin that could light up the entire stadium. His eyes, which were a carbon copy of yours, were shining with happiness and you had never felt prouder of yourself. You had brought him this much joy, you kind of had accomplished your role as an older sister. Well, you hadn’t quite done it alone, if you were to be honest.

“I wish Pedri could have scored though...” he said still smiling, looking around the pitch for players.

“An assist is still great hermanito” that had you ruffling his hair more.

“Don’t worry, he will strike, sooner than you think.” Martha, who had excitedly accompanied you to the game, said while sending you knowing gazes. You rolled your eyes and threw her a middle finger while your little brother wasn’t looking. You exactly knew why she had wanted to come with you: if this girl wasn’t the biggest fan of football, she was on the other hand the biggest one of gossips.

On the pitch, the Barca team was celebrating, hugging each other, thankful for the win today. Xavi seemed pretty content with the team, just like the culers all around the stadium.

“Let’s go” you said loudly for your brother to hear as you grabbed his smaller hand, passing through the security and approaching a small area were other fans were waiting. You had been offered VIP tickets, and maybe you hadn’t told your brother how.

“Oh my god! It’s Gavi and Dembélé!” you weren’t sure his voice was going to be there tomorrow with how much screaming he had done, and still was doing. However, his high pitched sound had attracted the attention of the two said players who came to sign his shirt, warm expression on their faces. Then, Lewandowski happened to pass by too, offering another smudge on the red color of the fabric. Your brother was shaking from excitement, stars falling from the sky to lodge in his pretty irises.

“Y/N, it’s Pedri! Oh my god!” now that was a whole over level of excitement. You had never seen his eyes that wide. You knew Pedri was his favorite player, from the day he had signed with Barcelona until this night. Even if you had never paid attention to it, you felt like you had heard his nickname as much as yours coming from his mouth.

The Canarian spotted the three of you, smiling shyly but still taking steps towards you. His hair were disheveled, some strands sticking to his forehead thanks to the ninety minutes and more of running around the wide pitch. His shorts had splashes of green that matched the grass he had met while being tackled many times. But he looked as good as ever, scratch that, he was hot.

He grabbed the pen your brother was holding out to him and made him turn around so he could sign directly on the “8″, his signature standing out from the others. Then, he placed himself next to him, bending his knees so he would be closer, motioning to you to take a picture. Which you obviously did: you had caught two perfect smiles matching joyful, genuine, expressions. It was the most beautiful picture you had ever taken. However, you would show it to your brother later because now he was more preoccupied with doing a handshake with Pedri. After that, the older boy ruffled your boy’s hair, emanating so much affection towards him. It was the sweetest thing to see.

Your brother looked up at him, excitedly.

“Thank you so much Pedri, it’s the best day of my life!” you could hear his voice breaking a little from having been exhausted all night long. He looked at you, so drunk on happiness. that’s probably why he did what he did, he couldn’t possibly be thinking straight right now. “Oh! Also, did you know that my sister likes you?”

You would definitely kill him once his fun was done. Your eyes went wide, crimson red being your new skin tone. That had Pedro looking at you, a smug smirk playing on his lips from the newly found information.

“Huh?” you could see the playfulness in his eyes while he was openly teasing you.

“Huh?” you responded, still on edge from everything. He chuckled and came closer, weirdly left alone by your brother who was showing his jersey to Martha. You knew she was faking captivation for your sake, and it was one of the rare times that you were thankful of her.

“You like me, Y/N?”

You bit your lower lip. He did the same.

“Maybe I do?” you wanted to tease back, therefore not giving him straight answers would do. You saw him squint his eyes at you, containing a nervous laugh.

“You like me, Pedro?” you asked, mimicking his question.

“Maybe I do?”

☁️

I hope you liked it! English isn’t my first language so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes!

Don’t be shy and tell me what you thought of it.

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sailforvalinor · 2 years

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The idea of liminal space is an extremely important concept in Twilight Princess. If you aren't already aware, a liminal space is a transitional space, such as a place between two extremes, or a place that serves to connect two places--think of stairwells, hallways, waiting rooms, vehicles, parking lots, or airports. These are spaces that, while meant to be used, are not meant to be occupied for long. You don't hang out in a waiting room for the sake of it; you wait in a waiting room in order to transition to the doctor's office. It is because of this that many of us perceive liminal spaces to be eerie or unsettling--we are occupying a space that feels in-limbo, somewhere outside the pace of everyday life.

Writers and filmmakers of horror have been using this to their advantage for hundreds of years, utilizing liminal spaces as settings to build up dread for both the characters and the viewer without ever needing to explain why. Begin looking for liminal spaces in horror and you'll see them everywhere--i.e., the entire concept of the Korean zombie film Train to Busan, which is set almost entirely on a single train. Liminal spaces do not have to be physical spaces, however, but can also be metaphorical spaces--look no further than The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, where one man's body is the space occupied by the two extremes of the morally upright Jekyll and the deplorable Hyde (granted, this is a little bit of a simplistic reading of the character--but the concept is still in-play).

Twilight Princess, while not a "horror game," per-se, dips into the tropes that define the genre--including liminal space. Twilight--the place of transition between day and night--is itself a liminal space. Making this concept into an intrusive, almost parasitic force than encroaches itself onto the everyday world is deeply unsettling to us as the player. It is forcing liminality onto places that are not meant to be liminal, creating places of transition that transition to nowhere. Places in the game that have been overtaken by Twilight are empty, strangled into silence that feels like it should be building up to something, but never does. Perhaps it is because of this liminality that all people caught in Twilight are turned into spirits--they are unable to continue with their lives, stuck in the moment when Twilight took over, but unable to ascend to an afterlife. Whenever Link enters this liminal space, he is forced into a form that is not his, in which his normal capabilities are limited. It is only when he leaves the liminal space that he is himself again.

However, despite all this, nearly everyone who has played the game agrees that, despite all of this, there is a certain beauty about Twilight. It is fascinating in its eeriness--just like liminal spaces. Have you ever met anyone who loves airports (of which I am one)? It's that same sort of appeal. There's a strange dichotomy between how unsettling and how fascinating it is to occupy these spaces that escape definition.

And here, inevitably, we come to the tragedy of Midna.

Because, she, of course, is a being of Twilight. As one of the Twili, the princess of the Twili, she is defined by liminality. She comes to Hyrule as an outsider, almost something alien, something that does not belong--she is liminal. And she knows it. While her vendetta against Zant and her desire to eliminate his influence is highly personal, there is no doubt that, by the end of the game, she recognizes that Twilight is a corruptive force to the land of Hyrule. But she also realizes in the end how much she cares about Link--while they began their adventure barely tolerating one another, they ended it with mutual trust, and it's not too much of a stretch to say mutual attraction. However, despite all of this, Midna knows the nature of her existence. The two of them aren't meant to occupy the same space for long. Perhaps this is why, in the end, despite the tragedy of it all, she shattered the mirror behind her.

Because Midna was liminal. Link was not.

#overanalyzing video games with literary theory?#on my blog?#it’s more likely than you think #maybe my half-finished writing degree is paying off for something #legend of zelda #loz #twilight princess #midlink #loz midna #linkeduniverse #linked universe #midna x link #lu midna #twilight x midna #lu twilight

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ltbarnes · 2 years

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Webs of Opacity

Summary: On the eve of the annual Stark Halloween party, you’ve managed to gulp down too much alcohol and tangled yourself into intricate webs of trouble. Even glittering fairies can’t escape the drama, and handsome 80’s film characters can’t always save them from sleazy boyfriends and hangovers.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!reader (adopted, of course), Steve Rogers x sister!reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 6k

Warnings: underage drinking, reader being very drunk, unconsented kissing, mild violence

A/N: This is a mess, I’m sorry. Started this last fall and rushed to get it done in time for this year. Also happy Halloween and over a week of Midnights being out. Couldn’t help myself from referencing it every other paragraph lol

Also if anyone has any scenarios or requests for my college series please please send them to me! Love your enthusiasm for my Stark U babies and want to keep writing for them

Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your shiny, entirely fake wings keep bumping into the ridiculous amount of people crammed into this room, and you're sure you have never apologized more times in your life than tonight. Wanda has assured you many times that, no, you should not take off your wings because you look—in her words—adorable. It was her idea, after all, to dress you up like a little flowery fairy for the Halloween party Tony has thrown tonight. She made your wings all fluttery and glittery, and the flowers in your hair sparkle every now and then. It feels like a childhood dream coming true.

"Spider-boy!" you call out over the loud music, jumping as you stretch your hand up in the air to alert the young man twenty feet away.

For a "quiet gathering" there sure are a lot of loud, drunk people here. Then again, it was your mistake to trust the promise of Stark when it came to a party.

Your jumping up and down is entirely unnecessary when you're trying to gain the attention of someone with a creepy sixth sense that allows them to just know everything happening around them. Peter already knew exactly where you were the moment you opened your mouth. It doesn't help that you're just a tiny, little bit of tipsy either.

He smiles a toothy grin as he pushes past the crowd towards you, showing glimpses of his Indiana Jones costume that's honestly a slightly surprising choice. He looks handsome though.

"Hi, Y/n!" he nearly shouts over the music, embracing you in a side hug as he takes a look at your outfit. "You're a fairy! It fits you so great, it's like you were meant to be one,” Peter exclaims happily while you chuckle lightheartedly.

"Thank you, it was Wanda's idea. Indiana Jones, huh?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. It's quite uncharacteristic. Last year he went as Nikola Tesla and nobody knew who he was supposed to be.

"Yeah, Tony said I had to go as something cooler this year. He'd disown me otherwise." Peter cringes while your head is thrown back in laughter.

"He told me I looked like a moth earlier," you answer with a grin on your lips, the remnants of your chuckles fading out.

"You look great, Y/n. Very sweet. Think Bucky's gonna get here any second and tell me to keep any 'punks' away from you," Peter tells you. You roll your eyes, though fondly.

"Hm, I bet he will," you hum. "Gotta send him back soon if he keeps that up. Both of them, for that sake."

You nod your head towards the blonde head sticking up in the bar crowd. Your brother is an overbearing mess that you would much rather let you be, instead of hovering protectively around your presence constantly. He seems to have eased up on his duties tonight, though, in honor of the holiday.

"I think it's good that—you know—they look out for you. There are a lot of bad guys out there," Peter says, scratching his head nervously like it would somehow offend you.

"Yeah, that's understandable. Though Steve and Bucky seem to think I'm still a kid." You scrunch your nose fondly.

"Well, you are. Kind of," Peter says. Your mouth hangs agape jokingly, with a silent scoff in answer.

"Oh, that's where we're going! You're only two years older, asshole," you say with a glare, taking a sip from the drink in your hand.

"Those two years make a world of difference." He smiles with a glint in his eyes. "Head off to college and then they'll see you as an adult, maybe."

"I'm going in January—stop looking at me like that!" you yell when he smirks, holding back a laugh. "I'm serious! Alright, okay, we're not playing nice tonight, are we?" You raise an eyebrow in question.

"Sure," he smiles. It falters just as quickly when you snatch the red solo cup out of his hand, gulping down the sweet and bitter liquid before crumpling the cup in your hands. "Hey!" Peter shouts. "You're not 21!"

"Neither are you." A victorious smile adorns your lips. You try not to show the distaste from the bitter liquid burning in your throat.

"In a few months!" Peter blushes and you fight the urge to coo at him because he gets shy over the most peculiar things.

"You're so cute, Parker," you tell him with a bop to his nose.

"Oh, piss off," he says and shakes his head.

"Learnt a new swear word? Impressive. College has really changed you."

"You're really annoying right know, you know that?"

You shake your head frantically, scrunching your nose simultaneously, and there's something different about you that Peter just noticed now.

"You're already drunk, aren't you?" he asks with realization dawning upon him. You gaze up at him with a mischievous glint and a gasp escapes him. "Y/n, Steve's gonna freak out on you!"

"He's never gonna find out. And I'm not drunk. I had three drinks earlier, 's fine," you say with a dismissive wave.

"Three drinks?" he breathes out in disbelief. "That's not little—hey! Hands off, asshole!" Peter interrupts the beginning of his speech to scare away the twenty-something with his hands on your hips.

"Dickhead," the guy mutters under his breath as he backs away. You turn around to meet Peter's eyes with a pout as the guy saunters off, a disappointed frown in between your brows.

"That guy was hot. You scared him away. You ruined my only chance," you pout.

You turn around again before Peter has the chance to answer, roaming your eyes around for the guy. With only a few seconds he's managed to land himself over by the bar, drink raised to his lips as he eyes you hungrily despite Peter's warnings. You smile, biting your lip with a newfound confidence you've never experienced. Yeah, definitely tipsy. Sober you would be hiding away in the cleaning closet by now.

"Well, yeah, he was—Y/n, hello?" Peter lays his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to meet his eyes again. "You know what? We're gonna go for a walk." He lays an arm around your shoulders, gently steering you away from the guy and into the crowd.

"Oh, where?" you ask, already forgotten the source of your previous pout. "Careful of my wings, Parker."

"It's a surprise," Peter says as he loosens his hold around your wings, glancing to see if they're alright. You stop talking almost instantly and for once he's happy to know some silence from you, because right now you can't seem to shut up and he's not used to spending time with your chipper-talkative version.

Peter pushes the two of you through the thick, sweaty crowd filled with lazy costumes and masterpieces alike, ranging from several layers thick to barely covering anything at all. He recognizes some of the people from the compound, some from his college that he doesn't even know how they got here, but most of them are complete strangers.

You send flirty glances and hellos over your shoulder to every guy you gain eye contact with. It's scary how fast the alcohol went to your brain, from being completely unnoticeable to half-drunk in a minute. Peter does not like the drunk you. Or he does, maybe, but not in a room filled with guys who just can't wait to get under your ridiculously cute dress. It's offensive really, how you can manage to look so excruciatingly innocent and hot at the same time. He'll curse out Wanda tomorrow.

The party is so packed with people that it takes ten minutes before he finds the ones he's looking for. Wanda and Natasha sip on their martinis in a ridiculously large couch, gossiping like a bunch of school girls as they shout encouragements at Sam and Tony on the dance floor. Peter sighs, nearly pushing you down on the couch next to Natasha before he slouches down himself.

"What do we have here, huh?" Natasha smirks and takes a small sip of her drink.

"She's drunk. I'm exhausted. Please take her off my hands," Peter says as he throws his head back on the couch. You let out a giggle, leaning against Natasha's shoulder.

"He's exaggerating," you say with your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Okay, young lady. Drunk, huh?" Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow in question. Her perfectly red lips curl into a smile that shows she's not really upset about it.

"No," you mumble, scratching your nose with your manicured finger for the occasion. "Hiya, Auntie," you coo while curling up besides Natasha.

"Stop calling me Auntie," she mutters and gently pushes you off her shoulder.

"How's your boyfriend? Jake? No, John. Wait! Jack!" you fumble over your words. It might as well be any of the three names, because Natasha has been showing up with a new person on her arm every other month this year. You don't know what it is, really, but you guess you should be glad she's exploring her options.

"Jason," Natasha says through a roll of her eyes. The slightest hint of amusement can be found on her lips, but it's nothing that she shows to someone else. "And he's very much good, now stop asking. He's just getting drinks," she says and nods towards the bar.

"I like that guy," you exclaim excitedly. There's no doubt about your drunken state in this moment, because in no shape or form have you been as wounded up about any of Natasha's past partners.

"Hey, honey," Wanda catches your attention with a gentle hand on your arm, reaching across the sofa. "Where's your brother hiding? I can't imagine he would be very happy with you being drunk, no?" she asks.

"He can't know!" you exclaim with a whispered shout. "He's gonna kill me, please, Wanda."

Your eyes are blown wide open in fear. It's not that Steve would be mad—the disappointment is what you desperately want to evade. He gets that frown in between his eyebrows, puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head while looking down to the ground. Being on the receiving side of that is humiliating, on the verge of heartbreaking. You can't handle that tonight.

"I don't know, sweetheart..."

"Please, Wanda." There's tears gathering in your eyes, more so for dramatic effect than actual upset. You've slid down onto your knees in front of her, begging with your hands on her thighs.

"Oh god," Natasha mutters under her breath, setting down her drink on the table while indifferently glancing over to the bar where her boyfriend of the month resides.

She can't really handle this theatric version of you. There's a reason you're usually one of her favorites, despite your young age—your ability to be fucking quiet. Whoever gave you all that alcohol is on her damn hit list.

While she tunes out the conversation behind her, some kind of settlement is agreed upon where you, of course, get your way. No more alcohol, and Wanda won't tell your brother or Bucky what you have been up to.

When she stands up to leave, you're on your feet again. Now your attention has wandered over to Peter's costume, talking of how 'incredibly accurate to detail' it is despite being thrown together last minute by the college student. The only thing telling what he's dressed as is the hat paired with the old leather jacket.

A wet kiss is pressed to Natasha's cheek as soon as she joins Jason by the bar. His hand instantly finds her waist, pressing her into him tightly. His touch almost repulses her. He's too straightforward with his affection, so obvious in his quest to show her off.

"You look so goddamn sexy," he whispers into her ear. "Been thinking about what we talked about the other day."

Nat hums absentmindedly in answer, raising a finger swiftly to wave over the bartender.

"You know, having another p—"

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," she interrupts him.

He brought it up about a week ago, and she only entertained the idea because she was bored. Jason is only a temporary occupation for her constant need to destress—there's no way in hell she's gonna adhere to his fantasy of having two girls sucking him off at the same time.

"She's not your real niece, no?" Jason asks suddenly, setting his gaze on your soft curves in that angelic dress framing your figure on the other side of the room.

Natasha's attention snaps from her drink to where his eyes are set. "You know she's not," she mutters as she takes a sip on her martini, suspiciously eyeing her boyfriend.

"I'm up for it," he says, nodding your way.

"Excuse me?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, gracefully setting down her glass on the counter.

"She's our girl, I have a feeling she is. You can ask her, can't you?" Jason smirks as he shamelessly keeps his stare on you. "Pretty little thing like that would be up for anything, wouldn't she?"

It takes exactly two seconds for Natasha to have a sharp fork pressed against Jason's side, just above one of his major arteries and restricting his breathing. A choked gurgle escapes his lips as Natasha's mouth lingers next to his ear.

"I know 72 different ways to break every bone in your body, and I can make 65 of them seem like an accident." Her smooth voice fills his ear. "Keep her name out of your mouth."

She keeps the fork pressed into his skin for a few seconds, just for extra measure, before she lets it go and Jason coughs violently as his hand flies up to his throat. Natasha takes another sip of her drink, glancing over the unsuspecting crowd with a roll of her eyes.

"I suggest you leave. Go clean up in the bathroom, you have a stain on your shirt," Natasha says before taking her drink and walking away.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You squeeze yourself through the thick bathroom line, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible. You gave up on preserving your wings two drinks ago, because quite frankly you have forgotten them by now.

You might also have ignored your fellow elders' warnings of laying off the alcohol, choosing to indulge in whatever drink you could get your hands on for one evening only. It's a risky move, but it's something you can afford. You rarely stir up any trouble, if any at all. What fun is it if you remain predictable all the time?

The music blares through the floor, thumping along with the people jumping up and down against it. You're out of it in the most wonderful way, rid of your constant presence in your own mind, if even for just a short while. The consequences do not exist and neither does your conscience.

When a guy in his late twenties, or thirties, maybe even your age, grasps a hold of your hand and asks if you want to dance, you answer yes without any hesitation. Sweaty bodies spread their heat around, pushing up against you and the mysterious guy as you move against each other.

You barely know what you're doing. You're only following along, letting him control your movements close to his body. If you were more sober you would have seen how it could be more likened to grinding than dancing, but the weight of his hands on your hips feels grounding instead of unnerving.

"You look so fucking pretty," he says into your ear, muffled by the alcohol buzzing in your head and the music blaring over the speakers.

You throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with what you think is a smile. You're trying, at least. "Thank—" Hiccup. "Thank you. You're pretty too," you say, even though you can barely make out his features in the darkness.

But you think he looks pretty. A hypothesis based on the way his hands feel on your skin. Hot may be a better word for it, but in your state of mind adjectives do not differ especially much from each other. That's why you let him drag you away from the crowd, pushing through drunk people until you find a relatively secluded corner of the floor.

The wall is cold against your heated skin, your back against it while the man's arms cage you in. The feeling of his lips trailing across your neck barely registers. It just feels nice, you think. Your eyes are fluttered close, back arching while you mumble indetectable words you can't even decipher yourself. You're so fucking drunk you won't even remember this moment in the morning.

That's the problem with you drinking tonight—your alcohol consumption has been so limited that you have no conception of whatever is much or not. You have no idea if it takes three or six drinks to get you affected. You have no idea what you are like on tequila or vodka, on Prosecco or red wine. So now, eight drinks later of so many different types you can't even remember which was which, you're out of it enough to barely remember your own name.

His wet lips against yours are a suffocating presence you would much rather be without. It's sloppy and rushed, not at all what you imagined kissing would be. You wince to yourself, pushing him away just an inch to run the back of your hand against your mouth.

And then he's suddenly gone. You could have sworn he stood right in front of you. It takes a good ten seconds before you find him on the floor, clutching his nose with an angry frown in between his eyebrows.

"What the fuck, man?!" he shouts, looking up at the guy who has a funny hat on his head and a heaving chest.

"Stay away from her," the guy seethes, suddenly taking a gentle hold of your arm.

You don't have it in you to protest. Maybe it's dangerous to follow whoever when they tell you to, but your moral compass is non-existent in this state.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the guy asks you. You blink, staring at his face while trying to piece together his features. No words come out of your mouth. "Damnit," he sighs, shaking his head.

A woman comes up to him with rushed steps, agitated look on her face. "Is she alright, Peter?" She runs her eyes over your disheveled figure.

"She's completely out of it. Must have snuck in quite a lot of more drinks," he answers. "Your dickhead of a boyfriend is taken care of, by the way. Probably won't stir up anymore trouble now."

"I should have checked so he actually left. It was reckless to think he would leave her alone," she says with a stern face, cold gaze watching the exit.

"Wasn't your fault, Nat," Peter assures her. You sway in your stance, stumbling into his hold while he steadies his grip around you.

"She needs to lay down before she passes out. Get her a glass of water for me, will you?" Natasha commands.

Peter nods, giving you a concerned glance before reluctantly heading towards the bar. Your head comes to lean on Natasha's shoulder with a whine, letting her lead you wherever she's going. You're starting to feel dizzy and slightly nauseous, and you do not like it. If you had the energy to speak you would launch a heavy string of complaints.

"Come on now, darling. A few more steps," she says, taking on more of your weight.

Your face is buried into her shoulder. The only thing detectable from your blubbering is the whines, wordlessly pleading to take you away from wherever you are and rid you of the nausea.

Heavy glances are exchanged between Peter and Natasha as he pushes through the crowd, fingers clinging tightly onto the large glass in his hand.

"Here," he breathes out, reaching the glass towards her.

She takes it from his hands, tilting your chin up with her manicured fingers. "There you go, Y/n," she mumbles as you gulp down small sips of the liquid.

The music blares loudly throughout the large room, sweaty bodies packed tightly together. What you found exhilarating and exciting twenty minutes ago is now suffocating. It's the only thing you know as you barely stand on two feet amongst the crowd. If it weren't for Nat, you would be in a heap on the floor.

"Let's go." Natasha nods towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder as Peter trails shortly after.

You're barely awake, burrowing your face into the crook of her neck. Peter can smell the stale alcohol on your breath from where he walks just beside the two of you—fruity drinks and vodka and tequila and wine. It unnerves him to think that you might have ingested enough of the poison to make it dangerous.

The bitter night air is refreshing for anyone who's senses are at least partly alert. It's a blessing really, that tonight you only have the short walk from the party to your homes located just on the other side of the compound grounds.

The dewy grass is partially lit up by strobe lights placed along the lines of the premises, soaking Natasha's heels and Peter's loafers. Your bare arms prickle with the low temperature.

It feels like an awfully long journey for Peter as he walks along Natasha, halfway waking up enough from the haze to take on some of your weight as well. There's a thought or two of swinging you back home in just a few seconds, but there's not much for his web to hold onto out here. The anxiety creates shudders in his limbs and forces him to glance over to your figure every other second.

"She'll be fine, Peter," Natasha says without so much as sparing him a glance. "She's just drunk. It'll be over tomorrow."

But his anxiety doesn't ease, rightfully so, when your palm suddenly pushes against her chest with all the force you can muster in your state. You whine, sprawling your legs until they have no option but to release you.

"Wha—"

On your knees, bent over the small bushes meticulously trimmed by the nice gardeners, you throw your guts out with shudders wracking the whole of your body. Awful.

Natasha could have said 'I told you so', but people make dumb decisions while drunk and she already feels bad for you over what Jason did. "Oh, honey," she whispers to herself instead, taking a step forward to reach you.

But Peter's faster. Of course he is. The young man is kneeling down beside you, hand gently wrapping around your hair to pull it aside while the other rubs against your back.

Any other time, when alcohol isn't poisoning your blood, and you would have felt ashamed. You probably will be tomorrow. You would have reacted to Peter being the one to take care of you, especially after showing such irritation about your state earlier.

The grass is cold and wet against your knees, but it is a welcome relief from the heat plaguing your skin. You are almost certain there are tears making their way out of your eyes and you would positively murder someone for another glass of water.

Instead of gulping down another glass, like you want to, you close your eyes while breathing out deeply. The nausea slowly fades away with each second, the heat being replaced by dewy goosebumps on your skin, all the while clarity pushes itself past the alcohol-induced blur.

A raspy cough. A thick gulp, swallowing too much air at the same time but you force yourself to hold it in. "Did I just kiss someone?" you speak for the first time in an hour.

And Natasha nearly laughs, until she remembers the state you were in. You didn't kiss someone.

"No, Y/n," she says softly, glancing up at Peter with a hardened gaze that tells him to keep his mouth shut. "No, you didn't."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

It's dark, empty of anyone who usually resides in the living room. The lights flickered on one by one, lighting up the space too much for your liking when you stepped inside. A whine was all it took for Peter to turn them off again.

You've been discarded on the couch, legs stretched out over Nat’s thighs with a cold, wet towel laying on your face. Peter sits fiddling with his fingers just beside your head. It's quiet—thankfully—even though you feel much better than before.

"What time is it?" you ask after what must have been ten minutes of complete silence.

"It's, uh, ten past one," Peter stutters out, like he's surprised by the sound of your voice. In reality he just reacts this way each time you speak, but the circumstances have chipped on his resolve. He can't hide his shivers behind a cool facade anymore.

"Happy Halloween," you croak out, earning a quiet chuckle from him. He checks his phone to see the date on top of the screen. 31st October, indeed.

Honestly, Peter has been some kind of obsessed with you since he was sixteen and visited the compound for the first time. You and Steve were walking on the trail slinging around the grounds, deep into solemn conversation.

Peter should have been listening to the endless list of security policy Happy was lining up for him, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off of you. Not because you were beautiful—you are, but he couldn't really see your face in detail from that far away—but because there was someone else his age in the same situation as him. Then he found out you were just Steve's adopted little sister and was a bit disappointed over your lack of involvement with the Avengers.

For weeks he tried to understand why you were in this century too and if Captain America had kept you secret for a reason. Peter was too nervous to actually talk to you until Tony shut him out of some team meeting and you were the only other one in the living room. He saw you everyday after that.

But now he's living hours away at university and he hates that it feels like you're drifting apart and everything is happening without him knowing. You drinking and being interested in men and men being interested in you. He tries to keep the contact up—texts you everyday and calls you and sends messages to Steve or Bucky if you don't answer. For the things you won't tell him, the things he can't see.

He was so excited for tonight. Chose the Indiana Jones costume because Harrison Ford is cool and sexy in those movies and surely you must think that too? And damn it, when he saw you sparkle and shimmer as you walked into the room with your wings fluttering he almost fell to the ground. It was fun as long as you were sober enough to actually talk to him.

Peter's spent the last hour and a half so goddamn mad at Natasha's boyfriend. And of course he is jealous, it should have been him you were dancing with like that, but that man took advantage of your vulnerable state. You could barely stand up, let alone actually protest or give your consent. Peter doesn't know if that was your first kiss or not, but regardless he's mighty glad he knocked the guy out.

You've gone quiet again, and he almost thinks you have fallen asleep, but you peek out from under the towel when the door you all came in through is thrown open. Heavy boots clank against the floor and a frown adorns Steve Rogers', or Fred from Scooby Doo for the night, face when he and his best friend barges inside. It doesn't take long for them to catch sight of the couch occupied by a wide-eyed Peter, stoic Natasha and still kind of drunk Y/n.

"You're going to be the death of me, young lady," Steve speaks up, letting out a deep sigh once he's close enough to tower over your figure.

He got a run-through of the events by a slightly dramatic Asgardian god and an infinitely more concerned Wanda a few minutes ago. You had gotten black-out drunk and found yourself grinding against some punk in the crowd. That was forgivable, even though Steve would much rather you didn’t at this age. Then that fucking jerk shoved his tongue down your throat despite you barely being able to form words. Yeah, Jackson or Jacob or whatever his name was had a talk with Bucky before the two of them rushed over here.

With his hands on his hips and a shake of his head, Steve stands there for a second before kneeling down. Bucky has his arms crossed a few feet away like he still hasn't really decided wether he's pissed or just feels sorry for you.

"You okay, Y/n?" Steve asks you, a little softer. His palm has come to feel your forehead, even though you doubt fever is a common symptom of being hungover.

Peter is paralyzed beside him. He’s quite sure Steve knows how completely infatuated he is with you. Mostly because Peter accidentally, somehow, sent a voice message meant for Ned to Bucky. He must have shared that by now. What should I wear? Y/n is going to be there. Han Solo? Does she even like brunettes? Is she into blondes? Oh god, I’m helpless.

"No," you mutter in answer to your brother’s question. "This sucks. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Bucky snorts. "What did you even drink? Vodka?"

"No. I don't know. In the beginning it was just some screw-top rosé Peter's roommate brought," you tell him, scrunching your nose with the memory of the taste of it. "It tasted cheap."

"Oh, because you know things like that now, do you?" Bucky says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Can tell expensive wine from cheap-ass rosé?"

"Buck," Steve says before you even have the chance to answer. Chastises, maybe. "You're not 21 yet. Who gave all that alcohol to you?"

You turn your head away, pressing it into the pillow. Steve turns you back to him with a hand to your shoulder, giving you a pointed look that holds some level of amusement. He acts like God's righteous man, but he was a troublemaker in his youth. Tony would have a field day if he knew all the times Steve came home drunk at sixteen after drinking some musty home-made brandy.

"Peter?" Steve looks up at him when you choose not to answer, using alternative, dirty methods to get answers. Cheater. Your mouth falls open, looking over at both your brother and Peter with an offended glare.

The young man stutters, eyes glancing frantically between the two of you while trying to figure out who scares him the most. "I—uh, don't know. My roommate. Apparently. Natasha's boyf—ex?"

The playful tone dims into stern faces and clenched jaws as the villain of the evening is mentioned out loud. You're caught up deciphering the sudden switch in attitude for longer than you should have before solving the riddle. Natasha told you nothing happened, but unfortunately you have vague pictures of a man, her man, shoving his tongue into your mouth. Oh god.

You sink even further into the couch, if that's possible, shielding yourself from the undoubtably judgemental gazes shared in the room. Natasha's boyfriend cheated with you and you didn't even say anything.

"Don't hide from us, sweetheart," Steve says, brushing hair away from your face. "Hey, it's not your fault. That punk took advantage of you. You weren't in your right mind."

Your dickhead of a brother knows you too well. Can tell with just a glance when you're overthinking and analyzing and blaming yourself for problems that have nothing to do with you from the beginning.

"Calm down, birdie,” Nat says softly, earning your attention even though you want to crawl out of your skin. “That's not a conscious decision, when you're drunk like that. It wasn't your fault in the least. Fourty minutes ago you couldn't even stand straight.”

"I'm really sorry, Nat," you say, eyes flickering down to your legs draped over her lap.

"Stop it. That fucking dickhead thought it would be a good idea to tell me he wanted to have a threesome with you. I told him to stay away from you and leave, but he obviously didn't. Probably just to spite me."

"Threesome?" Steve chokes on his breath and the word comes out as more of a cough. He tightens his hold on your hand until you let out a wince, drawing a whispered ‘sorry’ from his lips.

“Me?” you breathe out, sitting up a little higher.

Peter pushes you down onto the pillow again not even a second later. He doesn’t want you to strain yourself. He’s also fucking pissed now because that man not only assaulted you, he also asked Natasha to have a threesome with you. A 19-year old.

“I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, Y/n. Not going to bring anymore of these assholes I keep dating.” Natasha sighs tiredly, letting her head fall back against the couch.

“That’s not your fault either, you know,” Bucky mutters, earning a pointed look from her that says more than her words can. A ‘thank you’ and ‘I know, dickhead’ simultaneously.

A comfortable silence spanning a dozen of seconds is shared between the five of you. It’s late and everyone is tired and what needed to be said has already been said. You’re fine after all and Natasha will be okay, if she isn’t already.

Peter shifts uncomfortably beside you, brushing against your hair and alerting you even more of his presence. He’s been so sweet to you tonight. He always has been. It guilts you now that you have taken his kindness for granted with time, but Peter cared for you the entire evening despite his teasing words.

You don’t know if it means something. Peter is good to everyone. And he has—MJ and him seem so close. They most likely spend all their time together now when they go the same college. Both geniuses. You don’t really have much to contribute except being the younger sister of America’s favorite hero and embarrassing yourself in a fairy costume on Halloween.

So you push the thought aside. Bury it deep and take in the rest of your surroundings. A quiet snort rests on your lips as you assess the brooding man who has finally seated himself down on an uncomfortable chair from the kitchen.

"Your costume is horrible, Bucky. You're not even dressed up,” you speak up, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

"Yes. I am," he mutters. "I have a mask."

"That does not count. You're wearing your normal clothes." You giggle while he rolls his eyes, earning a chuckle from you brother too. He’s glad to see you cheering up.

“What is considered a real costume then, sweets?” Bucky asks you, raising his eyebrows while pinpointing you with his ingenuine glare.

“I don’t know.” You look around, glancing over your brother’s attempt at a classic Fred, Natasha’s Dorothy, before landing on Indiana Jones. “Peter’s is good,” you mumble, heat spreading to your cheeks from nowhere. Why are you reacting this way?

“Yeah, sure lucky ‘bout that since he planned it all for you,” he mumbles under his breath. “Punk is head over heels.”

The breath escapes the two of you—you and Peter. Because Peter knows Bucky is right and you can’t believe what you just heard.

“What?” both you and Steve say simultaneously. Your brother has turned his entire body towards Peter.

You raise yourself up to a seat, glancing between Bucky and Peter. The latter’s eyes are wide open, lips parted. Guilty.

“Peter?” you ask him, so quietly he almost has to rely on the shape of your lips to hear what you said.

A clearing of his throat. Scratch on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, about that…”

#marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #peter parker x reader #steve rogers fluff #Steve Rogers sister #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #avengers Halloween

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