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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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PART ONE

Eddie Munson x fem!reader[33K] summer camp, a few almost kisses, that friends to lovers shit and your own personal rule: no boys.

I’m beggin’ you to beg me

By the end of week four, some kids were complaining of homesickness and the younger campers had taken to latching onto some counsellors for comfort, which is how you found yourself with a new buddy. Seven year old Olivia Fredrickson held your hand at any given moment, her free one grasping at a teddy that looked like it had seen better days but the girl refused to leave it in her bunk.

She also refused to leave you.

And that’s how you found yourself being led across the camp, leaving the rest of your group with Chrissy in the gym hall as they attempted to master the cartwheel. Little Olivia edged towards the music workshop with a quiet nervousness, looking up at you with big, glassy eyes and a trembling lip. Her camp t-shirt was still a little too big, the hem of it near the bottom of her sunshine yellow shorts and she clasped her teddy to her chest as she quietly asked you for the fourth time that morning:

“Is it time to go home yet?”

You sighed sympathetically and crouched down, shins almost brushing the forest floor and you poked a soft finger to the girl’s nose. She was all blonde curls and flushed cheeks and despite her sadness, you couldn’t feel a tiny bit jealous.

You hadn’t missed home at all.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, voice kind and sweet, “don’t you wanna go play some instruments? With the other kids?”

Olivia shrugged.

“You know, it’s almost time to go home,” you told the young girl. “But there’s still lots of fun things to do first.”

From inside the cabin, you could hear the muted sounds of xylophones and pianos being played, off tune and a little haphazardly but the kids inside were laughing and Olivia’s ears perked up.

You followed her curious stare and gave her hand a little squeeze. “Why don’t we go inside and see what we can try, huh? And then later, we can ask Mr Hopper if we can call your mom, yeah? You can tell her all about your day?”

Maybe Eddie had happened to look out the window, maybe he just sensed you like some kind of magic, like some kind of magnet, but the boy appeared behind Olivia at the door. He lifted a hand in greeting, smile soft and brows furrowed a little in confusion but your stomach flipped and suddenly the sticky hands that slammed on the keys inside didn’t sound as jarring.

“Hey,” Eddie called out, smiling kindly at the younger girl. “Y’comin’ in?”

Olivia scooted closer, tucking herself and her bear into your chest. You straightened up, hands on her shoulders and you grimaced at Eddie and he nodded in understanding.

“You know Eddie, right, Livvy?” You shuffled forward, coaxing Olivia with you and she stared at the boy with wide, unsure eyes. “He’s gonna teach you to play some music, isn’t that cool?”

Eddie hunkered down to Olivia’s level and smiled wide and easy, dimples showing and he coaxed the girl forward with an exaggerated gasp.

“Is that your teddy bear?” He asked. Olivia nodded, her bear pressed under her chin and when she was assured you weren’t leaving, she took another step toward Eddie. “He’s real cute. D’you wanna see mine?”

Olivia looked intrigued, gazing up to you for more encouragement and when you nodded and smiled, she stepped towards Eddie and peered at what he was pointing at. He was plucking at his shirt, the tiny teddy bear patch on display by his name and Olivia lit up with delight, small fingers poking at the bear's nose.

“What’s his name?” She whispered to Eddie, smiling more than you’d seen her in the last few days.

“Oh, uh, well,” Eddie stuttered and his gaze flickered to you as you tried to hide your grin. He seemed flustered, pink around the cheeks and it was almost too much to handle. “His name is, uh, Bee— Beelzebub?”

You snorted out a laugh that you had to hide behind your hand. “Jesus Christ,” you muttered under your breath.

“Beez, for short,” Eddie explained quickly but Olivia’s attention span had waned and she was too busy looking over Eddie’s shoulder at the kids who were inside, sticky hands and concentrated stares set on multicoloured xylophones and mini drum sets.

“Can I try?” She asked politely, already edging through the door.

“Yeah,” Eddie grinned, pleased at her change of attitude, “yeah, ‘course you can kiddo, go grab something to play.”

Olivia disappeared into the crowd and the noise, teddy bear dragged behind her by one grubby paw and you turned to Eddie who looked triumphant.

“Beezlebub?” You grinned and he groaned, batting at your hand that reached out to poke at his side playfully. “Really?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled but there wasn’t any heat behind his words. “I panicked.”

“I noticed.”

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets and you tried not to notice how he was a little more tanned than last week, the summer spent outside finally making him less pale than normal, the flush of his cheeks making his eyes look like honey.

“You doin’ anything?” He asked, squinting at you like the sun was too bright but you’d come to learn that he did it when he was nervous, when he wanted to come across more casual than he felt.

“Uh, not really, I guess?” You cleared your throat, kicked at a pinecone and shit, maybe you were as bad an actor as Eddie was. “Chrissy is finishing up at the gym and I was supposed to help Joyce with some filing later but…”

“But?” Eddie raised his brows, expectant.

“I have some time,” you told him quietly.

Eddie beamed.

A crowd of campers passed you both on the path, two by two and followed up from Steve as he led them back from a hike and the older boy spotted you both, doe eyed and staring at each other. He snorted to himself, kept an eye on the kids as they made their way back to the campfire circle and he only hesitated once before he cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled out:

“And I can’t fight this feeling anymore!”

Eddie’s eyes snapped from you to his friend, back straightening and cheeks on fire as he glared at Steve. It really didn’t help when the kids just assumed he was starting some weird kind of singalong, and a girl called Susie sang the next line.

“I’ve forgotten what I started fighting foooor!” She looked too proud at knowing the lyrics and Steve cackled, leaning down to slap his hand to hers in encouragement.

You didn’t get a chance to ask questions when Eddie flipped Steve off, face beaming with pink as he ushered you inside the music workshop with a hand in the small of your back.

You spent the next hour there, flitting between helping kids play twinkle twinkle on the xylophone and standing too close to Eddie, laughing at his stupid jokes and pressing a hand to his chest when he tried to coax you into learning the guitar.

But the tannoy for lunch sounded and the mess hall doors opened as the kids ran out, sunshine bouncing off of their heads and then you and Eddie were alone. Instruments were strewn across the floor and Olivia had forgotten her teddy, the bear splayed across a tiny keyboard and the sight made you smile.

And then Eddie was coaxing a guitar into your arms again with a grin and despite your weak protests, you took the shiny red thing into your hands and smiled too. Maybe it was the quiet that had settled over the camp, maybe it was the feeling of being alone in the mess, the room scattered with sunlight and the shadows of the trees, maybe it was the warmth.

Maybe it was just Eddie. Maybe that’s all it took.

‘Cause the boy was leaning against a table as he nodded his head encouragingly at you, telling you chords and letters that didn’t mean anything to you, not really. And his voice was soft and gentle, fingers pointing out strings and where to place your hands until eventually he was coaxing you forward, his hand curled around your wrist and you followed without any hesitation.

You let him guide you into him, every movement slow and gentle, waiting for you to stop him, giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t, you just held your breath and grasped the guitar a little too tight as Eddie spread his legs and manoeuvred you to stand between them, your back to his chest.

Despite the heat outside and the sun that had no clouds to hide behind, he smelled like a summer storm, like fresh rain and pine and something spicy. His curls tickled your cheek and he glanced at you from the sides of his eyes, a fleeting gaze under his lashes before he hooked his chin over your shoulder and brought his arms around your sides. He rested his hands on yours, fingers twining, moving you from string to string as he murmured softly about scales and open chords.

You didn’t take any of it in. You hardly heard a word. You let him move you like putty, soft and pliant under his touch, getting warmer by the second at the feel of him behind you. Eventually Eddie stopped talking and he stopped playing pretend, both of you acutely aware you weren’t paying attention, but still, he kept his hands over yours, used your fingers between his own to pluck out a pretty tune and you felt his smile against your cheek the entire time.

You couldn’t remember a time where you’d felt like this before. When your body felt electric, live wires for veins, when you felt like a kid with your first crush. So you leaned back into his solid frame, kept your eyes on his rings, the glint of them that had turned gold in the sunlight. Eddie hummed a tune you didn’t know, didn’t recognise, but it was soft and smoky and sweet and it sounded like it was just for you.

You decided it was your new favourite song.

You only broke apart when Robin slammed a hand against the window, a smug grin on her face as you heard her muffled laugh behind the glass, her eyebrows raised at Eddie’s pink cheeks, your wide eyes.

“Hey, lovers,” she called out and her voice sounded tinny from outside. “Hop’s calling a meeting, ten minutes.”

So Eddie cleared his throat and hung up the guitar as you tried not to meet Robin’s knowing gaze, both of you stumbling around each other until the boy opened the door and you both fell into the sun.

—————

Hopper’s cabin was almost full, Joyce, Bob and Jason still chaperoning in the mess hall but the rest of the counsellors tittered and snorted when you and Eddie rushed in, still looking flushed.

Hopper sighed and rubbed his eyes, not wanting to know why Eddie was blushing and your chest was heaving but Murray looked up from his clipboard and took you both in with narrowed eyes.

He set Jim with a knowing stare before going back to his list and asking mildly, “do we need another jar?”

The room exploded, muffled laughter hidden behind hands as Eddie turned beetroot and Steve rolled his eyes. You turned to ask if you’d missed another joke but Eddie looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him, so you decided against it.

“It was one kayak,” Hawkins muttered from the windowsill, sitting cross legged with her fingers tucked into Steve’s collar.

“Two,” Hopper shot back.

The girl opened her mouth to argue back but seemed to remember something that brought a flush to her cheeks and thought better of it.

“Anyway,” Murray announced, tucking his clipboard under his arm and clapping his hands together. “Quick meeting ‘cause the gremlins will be released in five minutes and God forbid they wander the wilderness unsupervised.”

“God forbid,” Hopper muttered quietly from behind his computer screen.

Murray pretended he didn’t hear and continued, “the big game starts tomorrow and after too many complaints that hide and seek is going on far too long—”

“That’s ‘cause some people think that hiding on the gym roof is a good idea,” Nancy rolled her eyes.

“Hey, that was a great idea,” Argyle countered. “Y’all are just jealous that you lack the creative and imaginative ingenuity that comes with smo—”

“No roofs,” Murray cut in. “And no smoking, Jesus Christ. In fact, we’re mixing it up and we’re playing sardines this year. Anyone who doesn’t know how to play, better learn damn quick.”

And without any other explanation, the man grinned and brandished a bunch of straws, holding them out in his fist until every camp counsellor had picked one. There were a few whispered celebrations amongst groans as shorter and shorter straws were drawn. But your face fell as you held out a straw that was barely an inch long and Murray’s grin widened.

“Go fish.”

—————

“So I’m the only one hiding?” You asked Robin for the third time. “This isn’t some hazing thing for the new person, is it?”

Robin snorted and shook her head, pulling Will backwards by the scruff of his shirt before he walked straight into a clump of poison ivy. The kids were restless, rippling with excitement and too much energy as they congregated by the unlit fire pit, the afternoon sun beaming down on everyone.

“No,” she told you with a grin, “besides, you’re five weeks in, Michigan, you’ve survived, you’re not the new kid anymore.”

You certainly didn’t feel like it, the weeks of summer giving you long days, light nights and an achingly familiar feeling of something you’d thought you’d once lost. Camp felt like childhood, the other staff members greeting you every morning like an old friend, strawberry smoothies in the mess hall, pancakes on Fridays and Sundays spent waist deep in the lake.

And even though Robin and Nancy had explained the rules to you twice before, you still listened when Murray announced the rules, standing on a rock in front of the crowd of kids and counsellors, bullhorn in hand.

“Okay, we’re having two games only, ‘cause lord knows how long these things drag on, okay? If the game ain’t done by nightfall, we’re leaving you all outside for the coyotes.”

The kids all jeered and yelled their protests at this, which made Murray smile, one that was noticeably more fond than you’d seen before.

“Yeah, yeah,” Murray droned, “that’s illegal, we know. Anyway! Two games, one hider from the kids and then one staff member!” He shot out a hand that pointed to you and he grinned, “we’ve already got sardine number one, who’s gonna be our second little fishy?”

The kids clamoured, yelling out names and raising their hands as they tried to get Murray’s attention until he eventually clamped a hand over his eyes and pointed blindly into the crowd.

Some cheered, some groaned, but Will stepped forward with a push of encouragement from Mike and Max. He waved, tried to look brave and Murray ruffled his hair.

“Okay! Byers is up first! You know the rules, Will is gonna get a minute to hide before everyone else gets let loose. When you find him, you gotta hide too, so Will, be smart about it. Last one to find everyone else gets thrown in the lake.”

Joyce appeared at Murray’s side, looking affronted. She grabbed the bullhorn and shook her head, speaking in a panic. “No! No, no, no one is getting thrown in the lake. We don’t do that, Murray, for god's sake—”

But Murray just grinned and grabbed the megaphone right back. “Don’t be stupid about it, no roofs, no vehicles, don’t actually go into the lake for the love of god and Christ, stay out of the kitchen too. Bob will have my head.”

And then the game started on a whistle, the entirety of the camp facing the lake in a crowd of rippling excitement as Will took off running in the opposite direction. Everyone counted to sixty, a heavy chant that built the tension in the air and as everyone hit forty four, you looked across the sea of kids and found Eddie, already looking at you.

He smiled and you grinned, unabashed and unable to help it, biting your lip when he beamed wider, winking for good measure. But then the counting got louder as the numbers got lower and suddenly everyone was yelling ‘one!’

You were pushed as the kids scattered, laughing with the rest of the staff as the campers took off across the forest floor, weaving in and out of buildings as they searched for Will. It was a surprisingly quick game, with Steve taking one for the team and deeming himself the loser, the boy humming to himself as he wandered around the camp, blindly pretending he didn’t see the sixty or so kids lined up behind the kayak stands, legs sticking out and trainers stuck in rope lines.

And then it was your turn, much to the kids' enjoyment. Eddie appeared at your side as everyone ran back to the lake, ready for another countdown and the boy placed a hand on the small of your back, a barely there touch with just his fingertips but it was searing.

“I don’t wanna brag, but I’m pretty sure I’ll manage to find you,” he whispered with a smile, crowding down a little so his lips could find your ear.

You tried to act cool, tried to act casual, but it was hard not to smile around the boy, that cheeks sore, eyes too bright, kinda grin. And Eddie saw right through you anyway, smiling at you the same way until you cracked and rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away playfully just as an excuse to put your hands to his stomach.

“What if I wanted you to?” You answered, feeling braver than you ever had and maybe it was ‘cause the sun was setting, maybe it was because you still feel the way Eddie’s hand had felt against the smell of your back.

Maybe it was because you’d never been able to stop thinking what it would be like to kiss him. To try.

Eddie stared, lips parted, brows raised, looking a little shocked, a little dumb, but just as pretty. You watched him blink, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and before he could say something - say anything - Hopper’s whistle blew shrilly in the air.

“Munson!” Hopper barked and the kids jumped. So did Eddie. “I don’t have any more damn jars. Get in line.”

Eddie stumbled off, looking back at you over his shoulder, a smile appearing as well as a rosy flush across his cheeks, your words registering with him more and more. He stood amongst the kids, gazing at you one last time before everyone had to face the lake and count and god, he looked like a man on a mission.

The kids started counting and you felt giddy with it, your chest tight as you tore across camp, old leaves and called pine cones crunching under your feet. The sun was only just starting to set, the cabins turning gold, rainbows on the glass windows, the shadows of the trees a navy blue, a deep lavender. You felt ready to burst, a new kind of excitement curling around your bones and oh my god, you didn’t know if it was because of the game or the boy.

And maybe you knew the answer already, subconsciously or not, because you didn’t hesitate to turn through the trees, past the mess hall, past the gym, jumping over fallen logs and leftover puddles, heading straight for the music workshop where Robin had stolen you from hours before.

You could hear everyone counting as you squeezed in behind the shelving unit, tambourines and tiny cymbals tinkling at your movements. But half of it was hidden with an old chalkboard, rolls of forgotten music posters, a broken amp or two and the space behind it all created a narrow alley of shorts for you to shuffle into. So you pressed yourself there, against the wall and the mess until the chanting got louder and you felt like you were ready to scream with it all.

‘Five!’

You liked Eddie Munson.

‘Four!’

You liked him a lot.

‘Three!’

You really, really wanted to kiss him.

‘Two!’

And that was okay.

‘One!’

You were allowed to feel that way, you told yourself. It was okay. Suddenly, the voice in your head started to sound more like your own and less like your mothers and Jesus Christ, the realisation made you blow out a shaky breath, laughter coating the edges of it.

Eventually, after a deathly quietness after the last number was shouted, you heard the faint sounds of tiny feet running across the forest floor. Some yelled to their friends, others whispered and you froze when you heard the door open, three pairs of sneakers coming into view from between stacked books and broken xylophones. But whoever had entered the workshop, deemed it empty, and all three ran back out without spotting you.

This happened another two times, kids running in, too excited to take their time, only checking the obvious spots like the storage cupboard and under tables, behind Eddie’s drum kit. The sun kept setting and the lights were off, the workshop looking very much closed for the night as the day turned rosy, the last of the sunlight streaming through the windows to paint hazy, pink stripes across the walls and floors.

The door opened a fourth time, a slow squeak, and the footsteps that entered seemed heavier than before. They were slow, calculated and you held your breath, wondering, waiting, wanting.

Black converse came into view, too big to belong to a camper and you peeled out from behind a stack of textbooks, catching sight of Eddie as he leisurely weaved his way between tables and stacked chairs, the drum kit and the guitar stands.

He was smiling, you could see it, and it made you smile too ‘cause you knew that he knew, that you were there and it made him feel like you were waiting just for him.

Eventually, Eddie walked towards the shelves you were hiding behind, fingertips running over the ledges of it, rings catching at the stored instruments every now and then, making them sing for him. And once he reached you, he found your eyes in the gaps and grinned, leaning all causal against the shelf.

“Well look at that,” he tutted, all faux disappointment. “Looks like it’s just you and me so far.”

You smiled, leaned back against the wall and set him a gaze that made his chest go a little tight. “Oh no,” you deadpanned, trying your best to hide how pleased you were.

You smothered your laughter as Eddie tried to squeeze in beside you, cursing under his breath as more kids ran past the cabin, close to the windows across from your hiding spot. But none came in, some shouting at others to start checking the bunks and Eddie sidestepped his way towards you, his back to the wall.

There really wasn’t a lot of room.

“You know why they call it sardines?” He asked quietly as he made his way carefully towards you.

He was getting closer, knees brushing posters that became more creased than they had been but Eddie didn’t seem to mind.

You swallowed, hands curling at your sides, skimming your bare legs as you fiddled with the hem of your shorts.

“Why?”

Eddie waited until he was settled into place beside you before answering, turning with a little difficulty until he was toe to toe with you, only a breath apart. He smiled, close enough that you could smell his cologne, leftover smoke, that storm weather scent that seemed to stick to him.

“S’cause you gotta pack in together real close.” He whispered and his breath across your lips felt like a kiss. Your lashes fluttered, your lips parted. “Like a tin of sardines, get it?”

You nodded, not willing to speak for fear of your voice wavering and Eddie seemed to sense some sort of nervousness, an uncertainty and he mistook it for something it wasn’t. He backed off, one foot behind the other as he tried to move away, stumbling a little.

“Sorry, too close, my ba—”

He was cut off when you caught him, a hand reaching out to pluck boldly at the front of his shirt, fingers curled there as you coaxed him back. You tugged, gentle, eyes a little wide as you looked up at him and hoped he got the message. Eddie froze, looking at you with the same wonderment that he did before, when you told him you wanted him to catch you. But he came to a lot quicker this time, righting himself before moving back to you, until his shoes brushed yours and your hand was pressed between your body and his.

The kids were still yelling outside but it sounded like they were underwater. Or maybe you were, you weren’t sure. Eddie held your gaze and you felt the way his stomach flexed under your touch, his chest heaving and falling as he tried to right his breathing. He whispered your name and you closed your eyes.

You felt rather than saw him crowd you, his T-shirt riding up his waist as he stretched his arms out to lean against the shelves behind you, closing you in, coming closer still. Every movement was slow and careful, like he was prepared for you to stop him, to push him away, but your hand only tightened in his shirt, the cotton trapped in your closed fist and you wondered what it would take for you to let him go.

“I’ve been thinking,” you whispered, licking at your bottom lip and you dared open your eyes, gaze heavy and Eddie was so close, you could see the way the sunlight caught his lashes.

Eddie followed the movement with hooded eyes, copying you without realising, his tongue peeking out and swiping across his lip too. “Yeah?” He prompted. He sounded hopeful, nervous.

“That maybe it’d be nice to try,” you started, voice soft and quiet like you were telling him a secret and you hoped then more than ever that you’d never be found, wanting to be trapped here forever, pressed against Eddie. “More than nice,” you corrected and god your throat felt thick and your tongue felt too clumsy in your mouth.

“More than nice,” Eddie repeated and he was smiling, smiling so wide and you could hear it in his voice, the happiness, the shy kind of flirt that made your toes curl. “That sounds promising.”

His hand found yours, fingers tangling to pull your grip from his shirt, only to hold your palm against his. You wondered if he could feel your pulse, your heartbeat that seemed to thrum through your entire body. You weren’t sure how, but he pulled you closer.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You smiled, leaning in, chest pressed to Eddie’s, foreheads kissing like they had in the front seat of his van. You liked the word, ‘promising’. It sounded hopeful, it sounded new and different, like it could offer up a whole other world for you.

Maybe it could.

You weren’t sure who closed their eyes first, maybe you, maybe the boy. But you both went on touch, on sense, instincts telling you which way to tilt your head, noses bumping in the softest way, pushed to cheeks as Eddie’s hand squeezed to yours and it felt like he was telling you it was all okay.

He spoke, eyes still shut, lashes brushing over yours, lips almost almost almost grazing your own with each word.

“I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want to, if you’re not ready,” he whispered and his voice cracked just a little, brows furrowing even though you couldn’t see. A curl brushed your cheek and you leaned in closer, legs bumping his, knees knocking. “I don’t wanna rush you or make you feel like you gotta—”

“You’re not, Eddie,” you urged softly, forehead pressed to his, like you were willing him to believe it. “I just— I just started thinking about all the things that I wanted for a change.”

He waited, lips parted, head tilted to yours. He breathed in what you breathed out and your grip on his hand got tighter, ‘cause suddenly everything felt so intense you were scared you’d float away, that you’d have to let him go. It might’ve taken you a couple of weeks, but shit, you realised that you really, really didn’t want to let Eddie go.

“There’s a voice inside my head,” you told him, “and not to sound crazy, but it’s starting to sound a lot kinder now. More like myself, like it used to sound a long time ago.” You felt the uptick of Eddie’s cheek against your own, a smile you couldn’t see because it was so much easier to pour your heart out when your eyes were closed.

Eddie hummed, a sweet reassuring sound that made you sway into him, your top lip catching the edge of his chin and his breath hitched and you held yours and everything was burning burning burning.

“What’s it saying?” Eddie asked and his hands left the shelf, left yours, so they could come to rest at your waist, gentle at first, almost too soft to feel. But you let out a little noise, and Eddie seemed to understand, ‘cause he gripped you a little firmer, fingers splayed wide across your sides before they dropped at your shirt and held you close. “This nice voice?”

He dropped his head, eyes half open, heavy and hooded and he nosed at your jaw, smiled when you let the motion tip your head back for him. You were softer than butter under his touch, your hands coming to fist at the material just under his collar, eyes scrunched shut and lips parting. Eddie ran the tip of his nose along your jaw, barely touching, no kissing, but it was enough for you to cling to him.

Someone outside yelled and there were footsteps on the stairs, a thudthudthud that you both barely heard before they turned and ran the other way. The forest was in chaos but you and Eddie didn’t seem to notice.

“C’mon sweetheart, you’re awfully quiet,” he whispered and maybe it was the small space, maybe it was the broken guitar stand that was digging into your back but you shifted until Eddie’s knee slipped between your own.

You didn’t do anything, neither did he and it was dirty, not really. But Jesus Christ, it was far from innocent too.

You swallowed, thick sound that you were sure Eddie would’ve heard and it made your cheeks burn hot. Opening your eyes, you found him closer than you remembered him ever being, all wild curls and dark brown eyes, gaze bouncing from yours to your lips and back again.

“It’s saying I could go to art school,” you whispered and your voice shook but you kept your eyes open this time, looking up at the boy through your lashes. You felt your heart rattling in your ribs, a vibration that made everything buzz and shit, maybe you could feel Eddie’s too. “That I could leave Michigan, find someplace new.”

Eddie smiled, a real, soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache and he nodded, nose brushing and he hummed, the prettiest sound. You pressed to your toes, eager, growing needy for something you hadn’t yet been given.

“Anything else?”

You grinned, head tipped back and face tilted up to him, cheeks aching with the joy of it all, that feeling of floating, flirting, all of it without shame or guilt or consequence. You pulled him closer still, wishing you could tangle yourself around him, wishing you felt brave enough to push your fingers into his curls but but but… not yet.

“It’s saying I could kiss that boy I like, maybe let him take me on a date, if he wanted to.” You said it so shyly, as if you weren’t wrapped around each other, like Eddie’s lips weren’t hovering over yours, stealing every word you spoke like they were only for him.

They were.

“If he wanted to?” Eddie asked and his voice was lower and raspier, like whisky and honey, sweet and sticky. “Sweetheart, he’d have to stupid not to.”

You shrugged, eyes bright, stomach swooping. “He has his moments.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh, quiet and happy and you wanted to swallow the sound whole. “You’re mean,” he teased but there was nothing but affection coating his tone and it made you softer against him still, hands moving up his chest to cling to his neck, fingers catching curls with the intention of bringing his face down to yours.

“M’sorry,” you whispered back and you really didn’t sound sorry at all, not when Eddie was letting you guide you to his lips, not when he was gripping your waist that little bit tighter, arms around you to pull you to your toes, body flush against him.

He said your name, soft and lovely, a pretty, pretty noise and you could practically taste it. You sighed, longing, wanting.

“Eddie.”

Your lips touched his, a brush, a barely there kiss, heads tilting, hands gripping almost too hard but you didn’t care, how could you? ‘Cause Eddie was letting out a small sigh, a moan and it sounded like your name again.

And then:

The sound of the door slamming against the wall, the stomping of feet, the shrill, high pitched shriek of a whistle. You leapt back, with hardly any room to move, the shelves rattling, tambourines and old drumsticks falling on top of you and the boy. Eddie yelped, grabbing at your waist before you could fall backwards and despite the way Hopper was glaring at you through the spaces in the shelves, you couldn’t find it in yourself to think of anything but the way your lips were tingling.

“You didn’t hear the whistle?!” Hopper yelled, face red, eyes wide. “Office! Now!”

—————

“Twenty minutes!” Hopper fumed, leaning over his office desk in exasperation, “twenty minutes I blew that goddamn whistle. You could’ve been dead for all we knew.”

Murray, who was lounging on the sofa, snorted.

“Okay,” Eddie grimaced, “that’s a little dramatic, no?”

You were too embarrassed to argue, half hiding behind Eddie who had no problem waving his arms about and talking back to Hopper. But he was as flushed as you felt, cheeks pink and eyes still a little dazed looking.

“You’re both supposed to be responsible counsellors, looking after the kids,” Hopper said, his voice a low growl and god, the vein in his forehead was pulsing. “Not making out against the stacks!”

You cringed, stepping out from behind Eddie to wince at Hopper’s stare. “We weren’t making out, I swear—”

“Not yet, you weren’t,” Murray muttered. Eddie spun to glare at the other man but before he could say anything, Murray patted his shoulder and stood next to Hop. “Calm down, curls, you’re still lookin’ a little flushed.”

And before either of you could retort, Murray chucked the marker onto Hop’s desk and grinned, staring at you both with smugness as he slammed down his creation. Another jar, a little smaller than the one it sat next too, with a fresh sticker on the front. In sharp, bold letters, it read:

‘Therapy $$$’

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered, eyes rolling and before you could ask what the deal was with the goddamn jars, Hopper straightened up and sighed, pointing at his office door.

“Out,” he demanded.

“Hop, look—”

“Out.”

So you let Eddie grab your hand, feet shuffling and lips bitten to hide the smiles that Murray could see. You both tumbled out the door, into the forest, where the night had taken the day, the lake a mirror, the sky a deep shade of violet.

You met Eddie’s gaze and you saw the grin there, your favourite one that took over his whole face, sunshine even when the moon was out. He barked out a laugh, sharp and sweet, laughing even harder when you groaned and covered your face with your hands, embarrassment leaking out.

But then Eddie’s hands were wrapping around your wrists and pulling, his smile meeting yours and he was kissing you kissing you kissing you. A real kiss, one that made your bottom lip slip between his, your hands catching over his own, smoothing over them until you managed to grab at his jaw and pull him down to you.

He tasted like cherry cola, like smoke and mint gum. Like sunshine and rain storms and a first crushes, like something hopeful, like everything you’d wanted for so long.

It was the sweetest of kisses, tentative and shy until it wasn’t, noses pressed too hard against each other's cheeks ‘cause close wasn’t close enough. Eddie’s hands were in your hair, over the slope of your jaw, the back of your neck, the dip in your waist. And you were walking backwards, pulled flush against him, lips on parting to breathe against the other's mouth and suddenly it wasn’t as shy as before.

You were lucky it was dark, the campfire pit barely still burning, a faint glow in the patch of black before the lake. You could hear the kids, but couldn’t see them, the hushed dim of whispers and the electronic beeps of handheld games coming from the cabins and you were thankful Eddie knew the camp better than you did. He led you through the forest, away from the main paths that wound their way through the bunks, past the windows of the campers.

He avoided each fallen log, laughed into your mouth when you squeaked and almost kicked a too big rock but you clung to him tighter in response and god, he fell quiet at that. Big hands on your waist, fingertips sneaking out to brush over the skin under your shirt, his lips on your neck, feet stumbling with yours.

“My cabin is empty,” you whispered into the kiss, lips parting for Eddie when he nipped at them, tongue soothing over the sting and you realised you’d stay out here all night with him if he asked you to. “But yours is closer.”

So you both stumbled through the cabin door like wrecking balls attached at the mouth and making Steve yelp in surprise. There was no kindness to the way Eddie yelled at him to get out, just impatience mixed with Steve’s panic, his fright leaking into a smugness that made your face flush but still, you clung to Eddie as the boy chased his roommate outside.

It was comical, the way Steve dodged Eddie’s hands and feet, edging around the furniture as he grinned wildly and grabbed his shoes, his sweater. Eddie cursed and Steve laughed, diving into the small bathroom for his toothbrush as he yelled at you both.

“And I can’t fight this feeling anymore!”

“Harrington, get the fuck out.”

Steve ignored him. “Is Careless Whisper on the mixtape?” He didn’t give Eddie a chance to answer, instead throwing himself into a awfully high pitched rendition of the guitar solo.

The boy didn’t leave until Eddie manhandled him out, muttering about last summer and how he owed him this. Steve let his friend shove at him, belongings clutched to his chest that he was most likely taking to his girlfriend's cabin and he grinned at you cheerfully.

“Use protection!”

Eddie slammed the door, locking it for good measure as he leaned against it, eyes on yours and his cheeks flushed.

“I am so sorry—”

“There’s a mixtape?” You smiled, squinting at the boy shyly, like you were afraid to ask in fear of being told no.

Eddie nodded, looking pinker than ever.

“Is it for me?”

The boy nodded again, stepping away from the door to cup your neck in his hands, goosebumps erupting as he smoothed your hair away with gentle fingers. “I was supposed to give you it ages ago,” he murmured. “But I chickened out.”

“Does it have Careless Whisper on it?” You asked, biting down on a smile when Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, all fond and affectionate, squeezing gently at the back of your neck.

“No, it doesn’t,” he huffed but he was fighting a smile too, nose scrunched, dimple showing.

“What about REO Speedwagon?” You ventured, grin threatening to break free cause Eddie flushed pink and pressed his face to your hair, groaning even louder.

“Yes,” he admitted, “shut up.”

You beamed and Eddie’s heart throbbed with it, ‘cause you were all lit up in the prettiest way, uncaring, all affection, touching him and letting him touch you.

“That’s not very metal of you, Teddy,” you teased, smoothing your hands up his chest, over his shoulders and neck, pushing up on your toes as you brought him back down to you.

He didn’t need much coaxing.

He grumbled, but it sounded too soft and his nose pushed against yours, a sweet gesture that you weren’t sure you’d be able to get used to. , “Don’t you start that,” he said but there wasn’t as much annoyance behind it as he wanted, in fact, there was none at all.

“Oh, so only Dustin gets to call you that, huh?” You smiled, tapping the little patch on his chest. “I see how it—”

Eddie cut you off with a kiss, one that was slower than the rest, deeper, softer, more sure, more intense. He licked at the seam of your lips, groaning quietly when you parted them for him and you felt the sound in his chest, the vibrations of it under your hands and it made you push yourself closer.

He kissed you lazy, languid, tongue licking over yours, hand coming up to cradle your jaw so he could tilt your face the way he wanted to, the way that would let him kiss you deeper still.

He pulled back, just for a second, just enough to press his forehead to yours and tell you with half lidded eyes, “I’d let you call me whatever you wanted, you have no ide—”

The confession was enough for you to push yourself back to him, mouth pressed to his as you coaxed him backwards, hands in his curls until his knees hit his mattress and he sat on the edge of the bed. It was easy to follow him, to drop into his lap and let Eddie pull your waist until your knees were digging into his rumpled sheets and you could feel all of him underneath you.

It was even easier to kiss him until your jaw ached, until your lips were swollen and kiss pink, matching Eddie’s cheeks, his hair wild from the way you’d been tugging at it. And he was hard against you, so, so hard; his cock trapped under the denim of his jeans and you couldn’t help but rock yourself over the outline of it, fingers fisting his shirt in your hands every time he made a pretty noise for you.

Maybe it was the noises you were making for him too, desperate and needy, maybe Eddie was just getting braver but his hands slipped from where they were balanced on your hips, skimming down the denim of your shorts until he was grabbing handfuls of your ass and moaning low into your mouth. He pulled you over his lap, a slow grind that made you whine and the boy tipped his head back, panting heavily.

“Is this okay?” He gasped out, “shit, we don’t have to— fuck, is this too much?”

Maybe it was. Maybe more time needed to pass between you deciding that you should’ve never given yourself rules and throwing yourself at the boy, but Jesus Christ, you found that you didn’t care. You had a week left of camp, a week left with Eddie and this is what you wanted. There were no consequences to having fun, no one to tell you off, no one to break your heart — ‘cause how could he? When he was looking at you like that?

Like you’d hung the moon, like you’d given him the sun, the stars, tiny glittering gifts just for him.

You were panting like he was, chest heaving, lips swollen and parted, leaning back into him like you didn’t dare be apart for too long. You shook your head, lips brushing over Eddie’s and you smiled at his sigh, swallowed it with another kiss.

“No, no,” you whispered, “s’not too much. But— d’you, do you wanna stop? We can stop if you wanna stop.” You were rambling.

Eddie whined at the idea of it, gripping the soft dough of your flesh a little tighter, like he didn’t wanna let go. His fingertips skimmed the hem of your shorts, pressing into the bare skin where your thighs met your ass and it felt searing, like a brand.

He shook his head, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and he looked a little wrecked, pupils blown wide and jaw tensing. “Don’t wanna stop,” he whispered back. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You sighed, breath stuttering and eyes fluttering shut at the thought of Eddie touching more of you and you were melting for him, head tilting back too easily as he moved his face to the crook of your neck. You felt like cotton candy, fizzing at the feel of his lips on your throat, all sugar sweet.

Eddie pressed kisses to the line of your neck, over your jaw when he ran out of room, soft, slow, open mouthed pressed of his lips and you felt his smile against you when you shivered.

“Can I do that?” He asked you softly, a barely there question that you felt on your skin rather than heard. “Can I make you feel good? Can I try?”

You sucked in a breath and nodded, let Eddie kiss you soft and sweet in reply, his lips moving over yours in a way that made you dizzy. And then he was shifting under you, letting you slide from his lap and onto his bed as he turned, coaxing you down until you were lying against his sheets.

You made a noise of disapproval when he tried to move too far from you, hands on his jaw as you tried to steal more kisses, his smile obvious against your lips. So he gave you what you wanted, kissed you slow and soft until you relaxed under his touch and he could smooth his hand over the soft of your stomach without you tensing underneath him. And when you turned greedy again, breath hitching and teeth nipping at his bottom lip, he flattened his palm and ran it over the waistband of your shorts, fingers stopping at the button.

“Can I?” He asked, pulling away to look at you, expression sincere and earnest. Eddie licked his lips, chasing the taste of you, his whole body vibrating with the way you were looking up at him, hair wild, eyes wide. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, suddenly nervous, ‘cause you wanted this - you really did - but it had been a while since you’d been touched this way, since you’d been in bed with someone, since you’d had hands and fingers on yourself that weren’t your own.

Maybe Eddie sensed that, maybe he was just as nervous as you were, but he took it slow, kissed you sweet and senseless, his fingers trailing over the seam of the denim before he popped the button. It was the loudest sound in the room, the loudest sound you ever heard and your body was electric, Eddie’s touch a shockwave.

“Jus’ tell me to stop, if you want,” Eddie murmured, forehead pressed to yours as he gazed down at your, brown eyes searching, looking for regret or discomfort or any sign that you didn’t want this.

He couldn’t find any.

His fingertips skimmed the edge of your underwear, the cold of his rings flat against your tummy and you arched up to kiss him, once, twice, reassuring both him and yourself. “Keep going,” you told him quietly.

Slow and gentle, Eddie slid his hand down, stretching out your underwear, all cotton and lace as his hand snuck underneath. His hand was warm and almost too big, cupping the entirety of you and you gasped at it, at the feel of the slight pressure pressed against your cunt and Eddie froze, staring down at you, wide eyed.

“Y’okay?”

You closed your eyes, embarrassed, overwhelmed, nose scrunched and lips tucked between your teeth before you were able to speak. “Yeah, fuck, yeah, s’good, Eddie — s’just been a while.”

He smiled, soft and understanding and he nodded, kissing at your cheek, your nose, the corner of your mouth until you relaxed against him. “S’alright,” he assured, “it’s been a while for me too, I’ll go slow, yeah? C'mere, sweetheart.”

Eddie coaxed you closer, shuffling on his narrow bunk until he could slip his free arm under your head, letting you slump in against him, soft and lazy with pleasure. He moved his other hand, fingers pressing a little more until they slipped through your folds and he moaned at the feel of you, wet with want and anticipation.

You made a soft noise for him, face pressing into his chest as you clung to the front of his shirt and Eddie watched you, head tilted down to take in the way you scrunched your features in pleasure, knees falling apart a little more.

“There you go,” he whispered and god, he sounded pretty, voice hoarse and low and a little rough, like you’d already ruined him. “Tell me what you like, yeah? Tell me what to do, babe.”

Babe.

His fingers found your clit, sliding over it soft with two fingers; easy, gentle circles that felt hypnotising, making you sink further into the bed, further into the boy. Eddie listened to the way your breath hitched and the way you gasped, obeying immediately when you whined quietly and told him: “higher, please.”

His fingers swept up, just a little, pressing down a little more firmly when you keened in approval and Eddie pushed his hands further into your shorts so he could slip a digit inside of you, swearing at the way you immediately clenched down on his finger, taking it right down to his ring.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded, quick enough that he huffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t unkind.

You took a minute to pull back from where you’d hid in his chest, gazing up at him with glazed over eyes and a slack jaw, breathing growing heavier the more he pumped his finger in and out of you. Eddie looked just as fucked out, cheeks all flushed and he couldn’t stop staring, eyes roaming over your face and the way your chest rose and fell faster and faster, how your thighs tightened around his wrist.

It was the most innocent thing, the way you were both fully dressed, your shorts unzipped and Eddie’s hand pushed into your underwear, nothing uncovered, nothing to be seen. But he was looking at you like he was about to lose it, thumb circling over your clit the way you told him you liked as he pushed another finger to join the first and the stretch of it was hot and wet and it made you moan something filthy.

It was innocent in the dirtiest way.

And then you were keening higher and higher, breath a gasp, forehead pushed to Eddie’s as you pulled him back to you, making him hover over you as he quickened his pace. You pressed your lips to his, a kiss that wasn’t a kiss but Eddie swallowed your moans anyway, rocked his hips into the side of yours, trying to catch some friction ‘cause he was hard as all hell watching you fall apart for him.

“Close?” He asked and his voice was strained, a low rasp and he groaned wickedly when you nodded. “Shit, sweetheart, that’s it.”

It didn’t come to a surprise to you that Eddie would run his mouth, that he would babble and talk quick and fast and dirty to you as you chased the high you knew he was going to give you.

“You look so pretty, y’know that? Feel so good — sh-shit — want you to let go for me, yeah? What d’you need, huh?”

You took his offer and crashed your lips to his, twisting so you could press yourself up against him, tongue diving past his lips without any of the gentleness that you’d given each other before and Eddie swore into the kiss, fingers hooking up and into you, pressing so sweet against the spot that had you crying out. You scrambled to grab at him, one hand on his jaw, the other in his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut too tight and let it all swim over you.

It crashed like a wave, upupup, until the coil in your tummy snapped and it all unravelled, crashing back down with a roar. Eddie’s free hand cupped the back of your head, holding you to him as you moaned into his mouth, lips parted against his and he was rocking into you, pushing himself up against where his hand was hidden in your shorts until he swore and buried his face into your neck, kissing the skin there.

You felt like your lungs were going to explode, like you’d run through the camp twice over and then offered yourself up for a hike. You were panting, letting Eddie smooth a hand over your hair as he pulled back to hover over you, his own chest heaving. He winced as he slipped his fingers from you, whispered an apology when you cried out a little softly at the loss of him.

“You okay?” He asked and he sounded shy again, nothing like the boy who’d been whispering unholy things to you minutes before. “Good?”

You nodded, rolling into the boy, cheeks flushed, pressing your face into his neck before you spoke and when you did, your voice was unsteady. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. That was really good, fuck.”

You didn’t see the way the boy grinned, proud of himself, but you certainly sensed it. You huffed out a laugh, pushed at his chest and let him kiss your cheek

“Don’t be smug,” you chastised but there wasn’t much heat behind it, there couldn’t be, not when Eddie was looking at you like that. You turned in his arms, peering up at him from your lashes as you asked, “did you, uh, did you—?”

Eddie snorted, leaning down to kiss you quick on your lips, deciding it was enough and kissing you again. He smiled, pushed his nose to your cheek and hummed in agreement. “Did I come in my pants like a teenage boy?”

You stared at him.

“You’re damn right I did, sweetheart.” He grinned and shrugged, not looking the slightest bit embarrassed, and he shouldn’t have, ‘cause his confession made your thighs clench together all over again. “M’barely holding it together after watching you do that.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you laughed, a sharp, bright sound that made him smile wider and you were pulling him into you all over again. His hands snuck up your shirt, only to lie warm and rough against your back, like he just wanted to feel you and you nudged your hand at his jaw until he dropped his chin for you and you kissed him like it was the only thing you ever wanted to do.

Like you’d been waiting to do it all summer.

I want you.

“Well?”

Eddie was woken up with a pillow to his face, the sun from a new day streaming into the cabin through the already open curtains. He hadn’t heard the tannoy, he’d barely heard Steve return, a banana and two stolen muffins in his hands.

He threw one to Eddie as the boy stirred, turning to lie on his back and scowl at his friend. He caught the offering, blueberries staining his fingertips a violent purple and he swore.

“Fuck sake, Harrington, what time is it?”

“Six thirty, don’t bitch at me,” Steve shot back, pulling the sheets from Eddie, “tell me what happened, c’mon, get up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie grunted, shifting until he was pressed against the wooden headboard and setting the muffin on the nightstand. “You wan’ me to plait your pigtails too?”

Steve scoffed but didn’t retaliate, flopping down on the end of Eddie’s bed uninvited, half of his breakfast already stuffed into his mouth. He tapped at his friend's calf, impatient and gesturing at him to spill.

“What?” Eddie laughed softly, “what d’you want me to say? That we made out?”

Steve snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, no shit, dude. I kinda witnessed that part.”

Eddie kicked at him, pulling back the sheets from under Steve as he did, ignoring the way the other boy muttered an annoyed ‘ow.’ Eddie sighed, a smile spreading across his face ‘cause he was waking up properly and his pillow smelled like you and he could remember the way your hands felt on his neck, pulling him into you, onto you, just as greedy and eager as he had been.

You’d tasted like blue raspberry jolly ranchers, smelled like sunscreen and campfire smoke from earlier in the night and you’d kissed him breathless, kissed him slow, kissed him desperate.

Eddie shrugged, and he knew he looked foolish, a lazy, dopey grin on his face that Steve didn’t miss. He had a bad bedhead, curls sleep mussed and tangled from your fingers, a tiny, lilac bruise on his collarbone that matched the shape of your mouth.

He felt lovesick, missing you already even though it had only been a few hours since he walked you back to your own cabin in the dark. You’d lay in bed with him for an age after it all, laughing as you’d watched him shuck off his jeans, heading for the tiny bathroom with pink cheeks, his hands covering the stain on the crotch of his boxers.

He’d given you his sweater, his camp one, the one that said ‘Eddie’ on it with the teddy bear patch and he’d acted like it wasn’t deliberate, like it just so happened to be the first thing he’d grabbed for you but you smiled at him like you could see right through him.

Perhaps, Eddie had thought, you could.

You’d kissed him some more, let yourself be kissed by him back, all lazy and soft and sleep filled. The night was warm, Eddie’s bed warmer, legs tangled in each other’s and the sheets, the chirp of the cicadas the only other noise in the cabin apart from the tiny hitches of breath passed between your mouths.

He’d walked you back to your cabin at around three o’clock in the morning, the night still yawning over the camp in an inky blue cloak, the lake glittering as he guided you through the trees and over all the fallen logs that had always been too heavy to move.

Eddie had kissed you by your cabin door like he’d wanted to do since the first week of camp, since he’d bumped into you after dinner and walked you back, talking about music and work and how you were finding things. And then last night you’d held his hand all the way home and he’d glowed with it, felt your touch on him long after he’d left you with a kiss that went on too long, one that was more than sweet and still not enough.

Eddie blinked and cleared his throat, side eyeing Steve as he shoved his muffin into his mouth, wondering if he was as flushed looking as he felt. By the boy’s answering grin, Eddie assumed he was and he swore.

“Shit, you’re totally gone on her, huh?”

Eddie swallowed, taking his time to answer Steve who was waiting impatiently, eyebrows raised and grin stretching across his face.

“So far gone it’s stupid, man,” Eddie finally answered. “Dude, I can’t stop thinking about her and it’s only been…” he looked at his watch and almost laughed. “Jesus, three hours since I saw her.”

Steve smiled and shrugged, softening a little from the way he’d been pushy before. His friend looked like he’d been hit over the head in the best way, eyes dazed, lips still too pink and plush from god knows what he’d been up to the night before. He remembered that, that feeling of realisation, that moment of, ‘oh holy shit, this girl has my whole fuckin’ heart.’

“So? You just gonna keep hangin’ out ‘til the end of camp? Swap emails?”

Eddie faltered, forgetting that the end of camp was looming, something that he normally didn’t mind ‘cause six weeks was a long time to be kicking around after dozens of kids, and eventually the bug bites got a little annoying. He’d miss Wayne, miss the city, miss playing the songs he wanted to play on his guitar, missed band practice and the noise of the city that never really died down.

But Michigan and Pennsylvania were further apart than Eddie would’ve liked and a ten hour drive each way didn’t seem as easy as walking to your cabin.

You hadn’t talked about what was next, not apart from art school but who knew where. Maybe it was stupid of him to want more after one night together, after six weeks and some stolen moments, but Eddie’s chest got a little tighter at the idea of not seeing you every day.

So he looked at Steve with unsure eyes, shrugged again and pulled himself out of bed before the conversation could continue. There wasn’t long left until the kids would have to pack and the parents would start to arrive and Hop would tell the staff to start hauling tables and chairs and sports equipment back into storage.

Maybe there'll be next summer. But Eddie thought about your sketchbooks and your drawings, the way your eyes lit up when you told him that art school seemed like more of a possibility than ever and the boy decided that maybe there would be bigger and better things for you next year.

“C’mon,” Eddie told Steve, pulling fresh clothes out of his drawers, “help me set up for guitar lessons?”

—————

The rest of the days went by in a blur, much, much quicker than the weeks before. The heat soared, the days drawing out longer still, until it was pushing half past ten and the sky was still lilac and cotton candy pink, stars on the horizon and the moon opposite the sun.

Eddie’s private lessons wrapped up and he came to you on his lunch break, smiling politely at Nancy who just grinned, skirting past her to ask you for help with something. You spent the afternoon with him on the floor of the craft room, cutting out certificates for each kid, writing their names neater than he ever could, gold stars and tiny, coloured guitars around the border.

Eddie was more than pleased, pink in the cheeks and you could see all of it with his hair pulled back in a bun. He’d leaned over the mess you’d both made, kissed you sweet on the lips and ducked his head when Nancy had cooed at you both from the storage cupboard.

You called him Teddy when no one else was around, whispered it soft enough that it made his brain short circuit, head going fuzzy until he could only respond by dragging you away somewhere quiet to kiss you until you were as dazed looking as he felt. It was his new favourite thing, stealing you away, ‘cause you let him every time, a grin on your face and you looked at him like he was made of gold.

He’d sit you on top of one of his amps, pushing his way between your legs, moaning in approval when you’d hitch them around his waist when he kissed you stupid, a hand on your jaw so he could tilt you this way and that, so he could slip his tongue past your lips just the way he wanted to. Eddie discovered how you loved having your neck kissed; slow, delicate touches of his lips down your throat, how you liked it when he bit and sucked at it when he was in your bed with you at night.

But you loved it even more when he kissed you sweetly on the cheek in front of your friends, in front of his. Like it was no big deal, like it was easy, like he’d always done it. You liked the way he’d do it quick when he said goodbye, when your schedules took you to opposite sides of the camp from each other and you adored it when he turned pink when everyone “awww’d” at him in response.

He spent more time in your cabin than his, gave up his lunch breaks to hang out with you and your group of kids, feigning innocence when they asked him if he was your boyfriend. He’d look to you, unable to stop himself from smiling and he’d grin something stupid when you’d hit your lip and tuck your chin to your chest, as if that would stop him from seeing the way you flushed.

And on the nights when neither of you had dinner duties, you’d meet Robin at the back door of the kitchens, taking the stolen pizza slices with a thank you before dragging Eddie back to your bunk. You’d play music for each other, the volume low as you swapped stories and secrets, and Eddie would try to make you laugh with tales from summers before, all the stupid shit he and Steve would get up to, how the boy and his now girlfriend used to hate each other… apparently.

When you got braver and kissing the boy got easier, as easy as breathing, you returned the favour and unzipped his jeans, wrapping your hand around him and watched him lose it, whispering your name over and over and over again as he threw his head back into your pillow and fisted the cotton of your sundress in his hands. He was a mess when you leaned down to kiss across his stomach, the tattoos there you’d never been able to properly look at before, his shirt pushed up his chest so you could mouth over the soft skin, adoring the way the boy babbled aimlessly for you.

You liked that you could reduce him to a mess, whether it was with your mouth on him and your bra on his cabin floor, the back of his van, or simply by waving at him across the mess hall, standing in your denim shorts and his sweater, name badge and teddy patch to boot.

Steve was right, he was gone on you.

Even Billy knew, ‘cause he’d pass you both by and roll his eyes, motioning to the way you liked to hook your fingers into the boy’s front pockets, pulling him to you. Billy would gesture to the scene, announcing to anyone who was nea by, staff or kids - he didn’t care.

“See!” He’d half yell, smug, “fuckin’ called it, didn’t I? M’comin’ back next summer with a pair of damn wings and a bow.”

The last night of camp, Eddie stole you away from the fire, where you’d been sitting with Robin and Chrissy, sharing a bag of chocolate pretzels. The girls had made fun, cooing and laughing when Eddie flushed and flipped them off, but you went willingly, a grin on your face as he took you by the hand.

He led you past the cabins, where the kids were inside packing up and the rest of the camp looked uncharacteristically bare, the kayaks put into storage, the flags from games week taken down from the tree branches.

Eddie gestured to his van, sitting squint behind the gym building. He smiled, all blue shadows and dark eyes in the night. “Wanna get out of here?” He asked.

You grinned, ‘cause he’d asked you that before and Eddie smiled like he remembered too. So you nodded, leaning into him to whisper the same thing you’d said to him all those weeks ago.

“Are we allowed?”

Eddie kissed you in response, a slow, too sweet slant of his lips over yours, once, twice, three times, before he pulled back to nudge his nose to yours.

“No,” he whispered back and it sounded like sin, like summer, like mischief and everything you didn’t want to let go.

“Well,” you murmured back, hooking your fingers into his jean pockets and pulling him into you. You pressed another kiss to his lips, an extra one to the line of his jaw for good measure. “Let’s go.”

He took you to a lake, away from the camp and any towns, where the only light came from the stars and you lit up when he pulled out a couple of blankets from the back of the van. Eddie helped you onto the roof, laughing when he grabbed a handful of your ass to push you up and you squealed at him. But everything turned softer and quieter when you lay beside him, his arm under your head to cushion it, both of you staring up at the sky that was more than just black, more than just a navy tint.

Eddie whispered constellations to you, pointing out lines and shapes above and he told you how Wayne had taught them to him, when the trailer park's generators would break down, how he’d take him up onto the roof and tell him all about the Milky Way and Orion’s Belt.

He relished the way you clung to him, buried into his side with your arm wrapped around his waist, fingers tracing his hip bone under his shirt, chin hooked onto his shoulder.

Then he trailed off, shifting to pull something from his pocket and he cleared his throat, scrunching his nose like you now knew he did when he was nervous.

“Uh, here,” he smiled shyly. “This is for you. It’s stupid, I know, but it’s somethin’ for the drive home, right?”

You sat up as he handed you a mixtape, the one he’d spoken about. It had some songs on it from bands you didn’t recognise, some that you’d assumed would’ve been too heavy metal for your taste but it didn’t escape you that a few of them had the word ‘love’ in the title. REO Speedwagons ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling,’ had been written twice, the first once scored out as if Eddie had changed his mind and it made you hiccup a laugh.

There was an email address on the other side of the paper, tucked into the case beside the tape and you glanced at the boy, tears gathering at your lash line ‘cause you hadn’t been looking forward to this talk, this quiet goodbye where the two of you could be alone.

“I, uh, I don’t have a computer at home,” Eddie explained quietly and he sniffed, leaning in to gather your hands, “but I can go to the library most days and we can talk, you can tell me about art school and, and, you know, life n’ stuff.”

You sniffed and nodded, smiling even though it was tinted with a sadness that you couldn’t explain. There was a longing that was wrapping around your chest, growing between your bones and the spaces between your ribs like wildflowers until they grew roots and you wondered if it would ever leave. You missed the boy already, even though he was bringing your hands to his lips, pressing kisses to your knuckles as he whispered for you not to cry.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “life and stuff.”

—————

The last day of camp was as hectic as the first.

Kids poured from their bunks as they greeted their parents by the fire pit, bags left in places they shouldn’t as other kids (and Hopper) tripped over rucksacks and pillows. Nancy did the rounds with Murray, checking each cabin for lingering campers, a missed shoe or a forgotten book and you were surprised at how sad you were to see them lock up each door as they left.

You watched over a crowd of kids as Eddie knelt down to accept a bone crushing hug from some of his students, a few of them clutching a new set of drumsticks they didn’t arrive with. Some campers were sniffling, clinging to the legs of their favourite counsellors, only consoled by the fact that all the adults were telling them they’d be back next summer.

Next summer.

The paycheck in your front pocket felt too heavy for just a piece of paper. It had some nice numbers on it, more than you’d anticipated, enough to add to your savings, enough to put down a deposit on an apartment. So where new, a different city, maybe a different state. You thought about the textbooks you’d need for school, the set of mechanical pencils you’d asked for your birthday but never received.

You thought about the applications to art schools that would be sitting on your desk waiting for you when you arrived home.

You looked at Eddie again, with the same cut up shirt he’d worn the first day you’d met him, tattoos on show to scandalise the parents, all wild curls and soft smiles. He melted even more when he met your gaze and the thudthudthud of your heart was from excitement, not nerves. Not anymore.

Eddie Munson made you feel the best kinda way.

So when the parents left, kids in the backs of cars, hanging out of open windows as they yelled and waved goodbye, and the rest of the staff were saying their own farewells, Eddie took your hand and smiled.

It was sad, a soft, puppy dog kinda smile that made your chest ache ‘cause there were no plans made, no definition, no label on what you were, who he was to you. And that was okay, you’d both thought, ‘cause it was so, so new and shit, two weeks ago you weren’t even supposed to be looking at boys.

But something changed, something snapped, something fell into Place and it felt so good.

Who were you to argue with that?

“So, what now?” Eddie asked, all quiet and soft and just for you to hear. He moved into you as you leaned on the side of your car, still wearing his sweater, hands in his front pockets to keep him from straying too far. As if he ever could. “Art school, yeah? My little Picasso.”

You snorted, ducking your head ‘cause he was too lovely, too sweet. You shrugged and acted coy, not knowing how to say it, not knowing how’d he take it ‘cause it was new and it was fresh and it was scary.

But it was Eddie. And he’d wanted a fall wedding, hadn’t he?

You nodded and smiled, taking a deep breath before you looked up at him, squinting a little against the sun that was in the sky behind him. He was backlit against that hazy morning glow, the light still a little peachy, a pretty rosy kinda day.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you told him and Eddie smiled like he was happy for you, and god he was, he really was.

“M’proud of you,” he whispered and he pressed a kiss to your hairline, sweet and soft and god, this boy.

You grinned, letting him love on you, pushing your face to his neck so you could kiss him back before you pulled away and shrugged. “Not applied for anywhere just yet.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll get into any school you go for, sweetheart.”

You grinned, scrunching your nose in the hopes that it would disguise your nerves. “Yeah? You think?”

Eddie nodded, nothing but solemn seriousness. “I know,” he told you.

Your heart stopped and stuttered before it picked back up again, dancing against your ribcage. You hooked your fingers deeper into Eddie’s pockets, tugging until he laughed and let you move him closer, his body flush with yours. Eddie cradled your face in his hands, fingers splayed over your jaw as he pushed lovely at your cheeks, his rings cold on your too warm skin.

“You can go anywhere you wanna go, babe.”

“I heard there’s a really great art school,” you swallowed, tongue feeling too clumsy for your mouth. You were flushing, chest tight, but fuck it, no one was there to tell you that you weren’t allowed to try anymore. “In Philly. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Eddie froze, gazing down at you with his hands still clutching at your face with a softness you didn’t ever want to be without. Maybe he’d stopped breathing, maybe you had, and then he was smiling, grinning, beaming, that slow, spread of his lips across his face that made the entire fucking world light up.

He was brighter than the sun.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, and he sounded softer than you’d ever heard him, like he couldn’t quite believe it, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

You shrugged, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, trying not to smile, not to get too ahead of yourself ‘cause you needed to apply and actually get in and get an apartment and tell your mom you were moving out of state andandand —

“Yeah,” you said and you sounded more sure than you’d ever felt before.

Eddie’s thumb pushed lovely at your cheek, still grinning and he smelled like the campfire smoke, like the forest and a rainstorm. He looked like a dream, like something you’d conjured up from a sketchbook.

He was too pretty, too perfect, all guitar string scarred hands, teddy bear patches and bad boy tattoos, silver rings and wild hair, a cotton candy personality to boot.

No boys? Who were you fucking kidding?

“Shit, sweetheart, maybe I’ll see you around.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fic

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andypantsx3 · 11 months

Text

incendiary | 5 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

length: 3.5k | 5th of 8 chapters

summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

tags/warnings: enemies to lovers, themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters

series masterlist

Almost overnight, things began to change.

Bakugou had apparently decided that ignoring you was off the table now, and he was there the next morning when you awoke, audibly puttering around the kitchen, making his usual ruckus of kitchenware sounds. You listened to him work, slowly blinking awake, trying not to think too hard about the events of last night.

He came back into the living room only a few minutes later, bearing two plates of western-style breakfast, piled high with fluffy mounds of scrambled eggs and perfectly golden potatoes. He shoved a plate in front of you like he’d already sensed that you were awake, then retreated back to the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of hot coffee that smelled heavenly–almost certainly fair trade and freshly ground.

He put one in front of you, then dropped down to his place on the opposite side of the coffee table, watching you scrabble out of the blankets with something like a smirk pressing at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew his food was the fire under your feet.

“New rule, brat,” he pronounced as you finally freed yourself, flinging yourself down at the table and seizing your utensils.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop now that you were already in motion, so you fit an entire forkful of potato in your mouth, then looked at him questioningly.

The smirk on his mouth deepened. “Your little stunt yesterday attracted every quirk supremacist in a twenty mile radius to this neighborhood, so you’re gonna have to keep away from the windows until they fuck off.”

You inhaled wrong around your potato, the steam catching in your lungs, and you coughed a little. “What? Quirk supremacists—here?”

Bakugou took a slow sip of his coffee, and you tried not to notice the way his bare bicep flexed as he brought the mug to his mouth. He really needed to invest in shirts with sleeves. “Your little cashier friend from the convenience store apparently leaked video onto YouTube already. The attack’s made a couple of the morning news shows.”

Your stomach churned, and you let your fork clatter back to your plate. “They’ve found us?”

Bakugou’s scarlet gaze tracked your expression over the top of his mug. “Not yet. But people know you’re in the general area now. Genius Office is running ID on all the weirdos showing up around here to find out who they are and what the risk is. But until they know what we’re dealing with, you’re to keep away from the windows. And you’re not going outside again.”

You didn’t think you wanted to go outside again anyway, considering the events of last night. Not for a long while, anyway.

You would never tell him, but it was kind of a relief to have Bakugou in here with you, now, understanding the kinds of people you were up against. But that so sucked, not even being able to poke your nose out a window after weeks of already being cooped up.

You nodded resignedly. You took a sip of your own coffee, then had to suppress a shiver of delight. Definitely freshly ground, and definitely fancy.

“They haven’t seen Matsui, have they?” You asked.

Bakugou shook his head. His hair looked a little messier than yesterday, piecey with gel and slightly flattened on the side he must have slept on. “No. Nothing on Matsui yet.”

You picked up your fork again and went back to your breakfast, at least reassured by that fact.

“Any estimate on how much longer this is gonna go on for?” You asked.

Bakugou scrubbed a hand through that thick golden hair. You watched, strangely enraptured, as it sprang right back up again in wild tufts. “Not much if you keep luring them straight to where you are, princess.”

You frowned into your egg. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Bakugou’s socked foot poked into yours. “It’s a safehouse for a reason. There were ground rules for a reason.”

You scowled. “Yeah yeah, I get it now. Excuse me for never having been the target of a national witch hunt before.”

Bakugou smiled, a wicked, blade-sharp thing. He leaned across the table. “So you’re gonna be good for me now, brat?”

Your fork clattered against your plate, spattering egg everywhere. You jumped in surprise, registering belatedly that you’d dropped it.

“Good for—? Good—?” you spluttered.

If anything, Bakugou’s smile went wider. “Something wrong, princess?” His eyes were practically glowing as he spoke.

What the hell was he doing? It was one thing to stop giving you the cold shoulder and act friendlier in light of everything that had happened yesterday. It was one thing to make you dinner and breakfast and not loom over you while radiating disdain from every pore. But it was entirely another to do—to do—whatever the fuck that was!

You grasped your fork with suddenly numb fingers, pointedly looking away from him. “No.” You shoveled a large potato into your mouth as if to punctuate that statement.

Bakugou just watched you, too knowingly for your taste. “Uh huh,” he said.

You finished your meal at lightspeed, desperate to get away from Bakugou and whatever that had been just now. Bakugou ate more sedately, seeming like he was mulling something over between delicate bites of his breakfast. You did not care to find out what that was.

You brought your dish to the sink when you’d finished and washed it speedily, then beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom, standing in the shower for a long time. Then you crept back to your room and managed a little bit of homework after you’d dressed, though you were a little too unfocused for your liking.

When you checked your phone you found that messages had started to pile up again, with a litany of texts from Megumi crowning the stack.

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 girl you almost died are you okay 8:58 PM those douchebags omg 8:58 PM please tell me you’re okay i’m really worried about you 9:06 PM

And then, a couple hours later, in typical fashion:

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 that rescue was so hot though 12:09 AM the way dynamight was all rough with them and then all gentle with you 12:09 AM it’s okay if you’re dead i would have passed away too 12:10 AM

You reassured her that you were fine, then paused, staring at her later messages, mystified. What did she mean, the rescue had been so hot though?

As far as you remembered, Bakugou had come slamming in there, metaphorical guns blazing, and he’d hauled you out of there much the same way. You didn’t think there had been anything particularly sexy about getting your quirkless ass almost handed to you.

Curiosity prickling in your veins, you googled around for the video Bakugou had mentioned, wondering how it had looked so different to someone on the outside. You found an hours-old upload on YouTube entitled dynamight destroys 7-eleven shopfront to save internet legend drunk girl—a title you thought a little unfair considering you had not been drunk this time, even though that was apparently your internet moniker now.

The clip was shot from a vantage point above the register, and started with the back of your head as the two men from yesterday turned the corner and almost immediately began crowding you towards the register. You saw your own face in profile as you peered back at the cashier for help—his own face conveniently hidden from the video’s perspective—and then turned back and said something muted to the two men. The smaller one stepped towards you—you saw yourself take an alarmed step back.

And then, faster than you had remembered—Bakguou was shooting into the store, the glass windows shattering under the blow from the door as he threw it open.

He was just as much a presence on screen as he was in person, all violence and savage grace. You watched as he grabbed the smaller man’s hand and twisted it at a brutal angle, then produced quirk suppressors from where they had been belted under one pant leg, just above his boot. You hadn’t even noticed it, then, hadn’t even thought to question where the quirk suppressor had come from—but he’d been wearing sweatpants yesterday, a pair not unlike the ones he’d been wearing this morning at breakfast.

But he clearly was packing some kind of emergency supply—and you wondered if he was wearing it now, even clanking around in the kitchen.

Then you watched as Bakugou approached you, saw yourself stumble as he grabbed your shirt to pull you out. To your surprise, you could see sudden concern twisting his features, clear as day, and you watched with surprise as he leaned down to look you in the face, hands going under your elbows to support you.

You remembered that—but it had all been so fast, and the sight of his hands, so gentle on you after he’d been so rough with the two men, made something in your stomach shift strangely. He really did seem to be looking after your safety, like an actual certified, probably-not-quirkist pro hero. You watched as Bakugou said something to you, and pulled you up into his arms. You instantly cringed at how truly princess-like you looked—having to be escorted out of the store under someone else’s power.

Embarrassingly, the comments section under the clip seemed particularly focused on that aspect as well.

2:11 ok but the way his arms flexed when he lifted her????? hello?????? jghgl26 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 600 [Thumbs Down]

how he’s gonna carry me over the threshold after our wedding dynadaddy’s girl 5 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.1k [Thumbs Down]

THE LIFT!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOW EASY IT WAS FOR HIM?? am i gregnant? am i pegnate?? how to know if pregonate????? Rika Abe 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.7k [Thumbs Down]

A hunted energy creeped over you as you read through them, your skin tingling. It suddenly took everything you had in you to click out of the video and not rewind it to the part where Bakugou had first hefted you into his arms. It had not been that appealing. And there was absolutely no reason you needed to witness the events again, no reason at all.

Bakugou chose that exact moment to rap on your door, and you accidentally flung your phone across the room in surprise, scrambling upright on your bed.

“Uh—come in,” you said, trying to not sound flustered.

Bakugou had clearly showered too as his hair was still damp, and moisture still glittered in the divots of his arm muscles. You clamped down very tightly on the echo of pegnate?? Am i gregnant???? that was suddenly the only sound in your entire brain.

No no no no.

You would not let Megumi and some internet perverts get the best of you.

“Oi, you just gonna sit here all day?” Bakugou demanded.

You frowned up at him. “I have been doing homework, thank you very much,” you said defensively.

Bakugou made a show of surveying your bed which was pointedly empty of any textbooks or notepads. “Yeah, looks like you’re real hard at work, princess.”

“Well I was,” you said, but you could already tell Bakugou had made up his mind.

“It’s time to talk about your second new rule,” he pronounced smugly.

“Another one?” You asked, heart sinking.

That razor sharp smile cut into Bakugou’s mouth again. “Yeah. You’re learning how to cook actual fucking food.”

You paused and stared at him, mystified. “What,” you asked flatly.

“I told you I was sick of watching you eat garbage,” he said. You could almost taste the disdain, dripping off of him like butter off of the baked potato he had so despised. “I can’t keep you alive if you die of fucking scurvy.”

“I eat fruit!” You bit back defensively. “And potatoes are good for treating scurvy!”

Bakugou wasn’t listening, though. Before you knew what was happening, he’d already fisted his hand in the back of your shirt and was hauling you to your feet. You felt like a kitten being scruffed by its intimidatingly well-muscled mother.

“Bakugou–what the hell—?”

But you were already being herded into the kitchen, where Bakugou had apparently preemptively arranged the instruments of your torture—several knives, a grater, a variety of pots, a rainbow of vegetables, an apple, some chicken, and a knob of ginger. Behind it all you spotted several other types of herbs and spices, some flour, and chicken stock.

“You’re gonna make curry, princess,” he informed you imperiously.

Curry! Okay now curry you could kind of do. You peered around for the sauce mix, poking through the ingredients on the counter.

Bakugou watched you, scarlet eyes tracking you curiously. “What,” he asked, though it was barely phrased like a question.

“Where’s the packet?” you asked, not finding it among the things he’d laid out.

Two blonde eyebrows went up, and you swore you could almost see a vein pop in Bakugou’s forehead. He grabbed the counter beside your hip, leaning back in, and you definitely did not notice the definition in his bicep as he did so.

“Packet?” He demanded, in the tones of someone who’d just witnessed their entire family get massacred. “Packet?”

You watched his handsome face work through what had to be the five stages of grief. “If I fucking ever hear about a packet again I’ll sell you to Matsui myself,” he said.

He reached over and slammed a kitchen scale down in front of you, followed by several of the ingredients. “Now pay attention, brat, I’m not showing you this twice.”

You knew better than to argue.

Under Bakugou’s stern direction, a curry roux—a term you would not have been able to supply before he’d said it—came together quickly. He stationed you at the stove, stirring everything together for almost twenty minutes while he chopped vegetables in front of you, a rainbow of carrots, potatoes, onions, and some leftover asparagus and peppers he’d dug out of the fridge. Then he made you grate an apple and some ginger into a paste while he sliced the chicken in expert strokes, narrating everything in his gruff tones.

It was strangely hypnotic, watching Bakugou’s hands work. You’d not paid much attention before, but he had long fingers, almost elegant but for the various scars and calluses that littered his skin, evidence of his career pressed into his fair flesh. You watched his fingers bunch at the end of the knife, the swift, decisive sweep of his palm moving ingredients back and forth on the cutting board.

Your skin prickled with the memory of those hands on you in the hallway after you’d passed out, the image of how gently those hands had handled you in the convenience store, and you shook off the thought, the back of your neck weirdly warm.

They were just hands. And they were Bakugou’s hands, for that matter. Make one wrong move on the end of those hands and you’d get cooked, faster than the curry you were working on now.

Eventually Bakugou divided everything into two bowls, and shepherded you over to the coffee table.

“That’s real curry, princess,” he informed you haughtily as you sat down, blowing on the golden sauce. It shimmered under the living room lighting, curls of steam rising off of it in tempting twists.

If this was real curry, you never wanted to eat anything else. As with dinner and breakfast, it was perfect—expertly seasoned, everything evenly sliced and cooked just right. You hated how much you liked it, suppressing a pleased groan as you shoveled down spoonfuls.

“I hate you for how good this is,” you admitted to him.

A wicked smirk cut the corners of Bakugou’s mouth, and the sight of it raised a strange heat to your face. You shifted uncomfortably.

Whatever. It was probably just the spice in the curry.

After dinner you helped Bakugou wash up, and you were sent for a loop by how easy it was. There was still some kind of… tension… that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and it wasn’t like he’d done a complete one-eighty in your esteem.

But knowing now that he hadn’t despised you for your quirklessness… hadn’t even actually despised you at all, really. It seemed like it had somehow flipped a switch inside of you. You’d told him that you’d needed more time to think on it, to come to terms with the things that he’d told you about himself. But really, with the air cleared so definitively, well—

You kind of thought maybe Bakugou wasn’t horrible after all.

You still wanted to bite him, actually–that hadn’t gone away–but you definitely didn’t think he was horrible.

The thought unnerved you.

When you were done you retreated to your room, still mulling that idea over, bemused at the idea that Bakugou wasn’t actually bad if you weren’t looking at him through the lens of your quirk supremacist glasses.

You managed a little bit more homework and cleaned up your notes from one of your previous lectures, shooting off a couple questions to one of your TAs. And that’s when you finally noticed it, an email from earlier this afternoon, sitting primly at the top of your inbox. It read: New Day Japan - Interview Request

You opened the email, interest piqued by the mention of one of the country’s most famous morning programs. What it said inside floored you.

Miss L/N, My name is Honda Ichika; I’m a producer here at New Day Japan. We’re airing a segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills currently circulating in the National Diet, and we plan to cover your story in relation. We would love to interview as part of this segment. Specifically, we are hoping you can comment on: - Cultural barriers quirkless civilians face - Your specific experiences with respect to the events portrayed in your viral video and subsequent run-in last evening, as a microcosm of those cultural barriers, and -Your feelings on the efforts of the assembly to pass these anti-discrimination bills. The interview won’t exceed 15 minutes and will take place Thursday morning in our studio in Nakano (address to be provided upon acceptance). While I can’t offer questions ahead of time, I promise the questions will fall within the outline I mentioned above. The story, once completed, will run Friday morning. Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is. Cordially, Honda Ichika

You gaped, stunned by the idea that anyone wanted to interview you about anything.

New Day Japan was a hugely important morning news program that had been running for something like the last fifty years, and it was a massive platform for anyone looking to speak to the average citizen.

You didn’t know that you in particular had anything worthy of that massive platform, and you were squirreled away in a safehouse besides, having just almost eaten it at the hands of two random quirkist assholes just yesterday. So it was probably not a great idea to draw any more attention to yourself, and it wasn’t like you had some huge message you wanted to share at the cost of your safety.

So you closed your laptop instead of answering, pulling up twitter on your phone for something to distract you.

And yet, even as you scrolled, your mind was helplessly drawn back to the email like a magnet, catching on key points. A segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills, the cultural barriers quirkless civilians face….

Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is.

You had two days to either put it out of your mind, or figure out why it was piquing your interest so much. You could give it more thought in the morning.

You wondered absently, as you drifted off to sleep, what Bakugou would make of it.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #bakugo x y/n

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ihavemanyhusbands · 9 months

Note

what do you think jealous!richie would be like?? I’m imagining him and reader being coworkers at the bear and a new guy comes to stage and starts crushing on reader…Richie definitely notices immediately, all the staring, the “can I help you with anything chef,” and all that extra attention towards reader gets Richie’s blood boiling but he doesn’t want to make a scene but reader kinda brings it up to Richie one day randomly while they’re both in the alley taking a break and he’s like I’ll handle it………

Ughhhh i loveeeeeee the idea of jealous!Richie so much

---

"This fucking kid," Richie grunted, arms crossed over his chest. "Always sniffing around ‘er."

"Relax, he's harmless," Fak said dismissively. "Just a little crush. We've all been there."

Richie glared at him, pissed off. "The fuck do you mean we've all been there?”

“Well, yeah. Haven’t you ever crushed on someone out of your league?”

Richie looked back at you for a long moment, thinking back to the time you were first hired.

“Yeah, I guess… That doesn’t mean I’m gonna fucking like this, though.”

Fak rolled his eyes, leaving Richie to stew in his jealousy as he watched the new hire make you laugh with a joke he couldn’t hear.

He offered to take over for you while you took a break, which you gladly accepted. Richie trailed you outside, taking the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear and lighting it.

“Hey babe,” you smiled, sitting on an old crate.“You doing okay?”

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but you still noticed the tension on his shoulders.

“That new kid bothering you?” He asked, glancing at the back door.

“Oh, not really. I guess he’s just really eager to learn?” You ventured, unaware of being the subject of a crush. “His knife skills are, um… Well, he’s getting there.”

Richie scoffed.

“Can’t he ask Carmen or something? I mean, no offense, babe. I know you’re very skilled but… chain of command or whatever.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Richie, what’s goin’ on?”

At that moment, the new hire poked his head out of the back door, his face lighting up as he saw you.

“Hey, Chef, just wanted to let you know I’m done. All good if I tidy your station a bit?” He said.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, it’s totally fine. It’ll take me like two seconds.”

You smiled gratefully, relenting. “Alright! I’ll be back in a sec. Thanks a bunch!”

His eyes flicked over to Richie, who was glaring daggers at him. He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more.

“You heard ‘er. We’ll be in in a minute,” Richie snapped, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“Y-yes, Chef. Sorry,” he stammered, quickly slipping back inside.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, looking back at you. “Gonna drool all over this fuckin’ alley.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What, really? You think he likes me?”

“Of course he fuckin’ likes you. He follows you around like a lost puppy!” He said exasperatedly. “You don’t see the way he looks at you?”

“Oh my god, Richie. You’re jealous?” You asked, half-teasing. “Of him? Really?”

He grumbled something about him being entirely too friendly, and that he wouldn’t want him trying anything funny.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got up and went towards him, wrapping your arms around his middle. He immediately tossed his cigarette and brought his hand to the small of your back, pressing you closer even if he was still annoyed about the new hire.

“Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” you assured him. “I can handle it if you want, though.”

“Yeah? You’re not gonna let me mark my territory?” He teased, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

“I’m not so sure I can stop you,” you chuckled. “Or that I want to.”

You went on your tip toes and kissed him, nipping at his lower lip in a silent promise of more to come later that night. As you pulled away, he landed a playful smack against your ass.

“I’ll handle the kid, but I can’t promise I’ll take it easy on him.”

You shook your head in amusement. “Fair enough.”

——

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x chef!reader #richie jerimovich blurb #richie jerimovich fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader

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ermegtei · 1 year

Text

❝orange sheets❞

៚ tighnari, kazuha, xiao, albedo

ᝰ mornings with genshin boys ☆

꒦꒷ i had a fun time writing this so i wanted to share it ;) UNEDITED pls ignore my mistakes i'll fix it later <;/3

tighnari loves admiring your sleeping face.

perhaps it's the drool that's rolling down your chin. or your rosy cheeks, likely due to you sleeping under the blanket. either way, you're adorable. he could just look at your face for hours and hours until you wake up—ah... you woke up already.

then come on, get ready with tighnari.

he smooches you, seperating with a pop!. a small groan escapes your throat from the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

"you wanna get up?" a slow nod was all he needed to push down the blanket and hop off of the bed, scrunching his nose as he stretched his sore muscles.

despite the walk to the bathroom being very shot, you still held hands, intertwining your fingers with his. you missed him, even in your slumber.

getting up early together was uncommon. one of you wakes up earlier than the other and leaves for lecture while the other... well yknow.

you sat on the toilet, rubbing your eyes since you were still groggy from the deep sleep you had. you hadn't slept like this for a while. was it because you didn't have to force yourself up from the alarm or was it because you rested well in his arms?

your thoughts were interrupted from your red pucca toothbrush in your face with toothpaste on it. ah, you forgot you left your toothbrush at his home.

you lazily took it from his hand as you glanced up to see him with his garu toothbrush in his mouth, a smile decorating his face at your droopy eyes.

in each others eyes, you both looked like love itself.

you put your toothbrush in your mouth but you didn't make an effort to actually brush your teeth, just letting it stay there, resting on your tongue while a few drops of water dripped onto your face from tighnari rinsing his mouth.

he wiped his hands with your shared pink towel and with a raised eyebrow, he asked—

"aren't you gonna brush your teeth?"

"i'm.. tired." despite the satisfying sleep you still couldn't move your arms.

he crossed his arms, an amused look on his face as he watched you sit still, perhaps hoping for something.

"you're not a kid anymore." he grumbled, crouching down infront of you as he pushed your bangs out of your face before grabbing the toothbrush, holding it in a position comfortable for both of you.

he let out an ahh as if telling you to open your mouth, so you did.

kazuha is... confusing.

he's both a heavy sleeper and a very light sleeper.

sometimes he wakes up at the asscrack of dawn because you sleeptalked a bit. sometimes you could be laying on top of him, suffocating him and he would still be sleeping like a bear.

and today was one of those bear days as you called it.

it was 12:56am. though not very late, you woke up hours ago and you were incredibly bored so you tried doing many things to wake him up.

you poked his cheek, gave it a few hard slaps, even tugged on his hair and gave him cpr because you were starting to get concerned for your boyfriend who didn't move a single muscle during these long dreadful hours.

you hoped these would've woke him since you didn't wanna exactly shake him awake but it did little to nothing so you gave up, pouting and slowly facing the other way to leave kazuha alone and maybe get a bit of sleep yourself.

and it seems your tiny movement was the stupid thing to finally wake him up.

you almost wanted to call him aurora, not because he was sleeping as much so much but because he was as beautiful as her.

the lazy smile when he saw your face set butterflies in your tummy, the feeling still pulling at your heart strings despite how long you have being dating him.

"have you been waiting long, my love?" he asked despite the answer basically written on your face in bold.

"i've waited like,,, an eternity. now let's get up please." you pulled him up despite his protests to lay down a bit and cuddle. (you almost wanted to but held back hehe)

with a loving gaze and a lazy grin, kazuha managed to get you to sit infront of him on the couch as you scratched your head a bit before shifting into a position that's easy for him to brush your hair.

he loves your hair, short or long.

he gently brushed the knots, chuckling a bit at your ouch!-s.

moments like these make you appreciate how simple and calm he is.

trying to heal someone who doesn't want to be healed is gonna end with you being hurt, they said.

but they didn't know anything.

they didn't know how he watched over you, his healer.

you slept rather late so it was obvious you were gonna wake up late too. but that was fine with xiao, who couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried.

he didn't want to burden you and interrupt you from your dreams so he sat next to you, lap covered with the blanket.

when you would talk his ears off or just cling onto him, he didn't have time to think about anything other than you. but with the room being completely silent and your soft breathes barely reaching his ears, he could only think about the future.

his future.

would you guys still be together in a few years, or would you finally realize how unworthy he is?

would you guys marry? or maybe even—

"g'morning..." your quiet voice startled him a bit. he turned to look at you and saw your left eye open while the other was closed, still trying to get used to the bright light from above you two.

"a-ah, i'll turn it off-" when he was about to pul off the sheets you quickly gripped his forearm, slightly squeezing to feel his soft skin.

"sleep." you only let out before pulling the covers over you two, holding his waist tightly as if you guys weren't close enough already...

it made xiao almost a bit jealous at how easily you were able to doze off but letting out a small sigh, he closed his eyes while holding your head to his chest.

what he said about not being able to sleep no matter what... might've been wrong, proven by you ♡

albedo was so used to pulling all-nighters, he could go days without sleeping until his body HAS to shut down.

you had a breakdown last night, sobbing into your arms, fat teardrops falling onto the table like a river. you had to finish this assignment by 6am in the morning, random timing but that's what your professor said.

you hadn't slept the other day so it was already taking a toll on your body but your assignment wasn't even close to finishing. your hands shook as your fingers messily tap tap tap!-ed on the keyboard.

your grades on this class was not so good and your professor gave you chance to get extra points but you still couldn't do it.

filled with frustration, your blurred vision failed to notice your boyfriend walking into the room with concerned eyes.

all you could remember was him rubbing your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead while you weeped into his hoodie. but as your cries turned into soft hiccups, he talked you into laying down.

you knew you shouldn't have but hearing his voice begging you to rest was just enough to soothe you to sleep.

a disappointed sigh left your lips as the horrifying image of a big red F lingered into your mind.

too late now, you could smell a sweet smell coming from the kitchen and a smile unconsciously made its way onto your face.

quickly jumping up, you made your way over to albedo, placing your hands on his hips and squeezing as a 'surprise!'

despite you being behind him, you knew he was smirking.

"you okay?" he turned around to rub your bare arms, his hands that was usually covered in gloves, also bare. his soft palms felt like feather tickling your arm.

you nodded, a soft smile painted over both of your faces. though you thought he looked like a sculpture compared to you

he turned his gaze to the table and raised his eyebrows, an indication to go sit down and so you obeyed.

when you sat down your eyes shifted to your laptop, the memories from yesterday tugging the corner of your lips down.

but the kiss on your eyelid and the plate of breakfast albedo made for you erased the thoughts like a breeze.

"i'll be back soon, okay? eat well and take bath." though his caring self made your eyes turn into hearts, the first part of his sentence also made the frown appear again.

a low hearted laugh escaped hid throat but he rubbed his thumb on your hand before walking to the door and putting on his shoes.

as soon as the sound of the door closing rang in your ears, something in you was telling you to check out your assignment one more time, even if it was 10am now.

you don't know what you expected but your lips parted and your eyes glistened at the screen.

"Assignment sent.

5:59am @______"

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xazse · 6 months

Note

hi hi hi ur puppy venti got me giggling and kickin my feet (*^^*)

could you write another story where reader is gone for a few days and when they get back poor venti is just dying to touch them again?? :(

PUPPYHYBRID!VENTI X FEM!READER

Notes: Hi, sorry this took so long, and If my other ask is seeing this I’m working on it! (JJK ask) and glad you enjoyed my puppyventi! ❤️

Pairings: PUPPYHYBRID!Venti x Fem!reader

Tags: Reader has boobs! Venti is still human but with ears and a tail that’s all, begging, pegging, fluff, facesitting, smut!

He was a mess leading up to the days where the inevitable had to happen, begging and pleading for you to not go wasn’t enough, you were the owner of a well known company but that didn’t mean you could do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, that just wouldn’t fly. So when he came to you with downturned ears practically in your face, giving you small kisses in hopes you’d change your mind it doesn’t work.

He’ll follow you around the whole house clinging to your body, touching and nonstop feeling you up, gripping your ass and telling you how much he’ll miss it, and he’ll also question who’s supposed to braid his hair all pretty? you roll your eyes every time he says that.

The questions he spews are nonstop: Who’ll be there? Any flirty men? Women? What time are you coming back? When does your plane land? Will you miss him as much as he’s gonna miss you? You’ve had to lock him out at night because he will really lay in bed with you and constantly poke you awake till you answer the questions.

Then the day came, he’s got you in a bear lock refusing to let you out the door, whining with his poor ears deflated in sadness. To even get out you had to use a little force with Venti, but before you leave you make sure to grab ahold of his face and pucker his lips, delivering a wet kiss to his lips: he attempts to deepen it but you’re quick to shut the door leaving him needy and dumbfounded. You’ll need to apologize later :(.

The next few days are agonizing for him, besides you being gone he’s all alone in this huge house, you gave him a simple phone since he’s still new to this technology business. It has just your contact with your pretty face in the contact photo, the first few times he attempted to call you, you didn’t pick up, but messaged him on how you were in a meeting and you’d call him later, so he sent cute scrambled messages that didn’t really make sense: in his case keeping track of all the keys on the phone is difficult.

Then the random bouts of horniness came, Venti loved when you’d send random selfies of yourself, especially when your boobs ended up in the photo. His fingers would slip inside his shorts and he’d palm himself to full hardness, he starts slow when he jerks his cock: he’s really trying to savor the moment but his impatient side comes out, and he’s humping into his hand imagining it’s your soft hands , imagining your pretty manicured nails, he wants you to pull on his hair, to flick his nipples every opportunity you get. Brief whines fill the empty living room while he struggles for air, the last thing he pictures before he cums is you giving him that kiss right before you left.

Venti spends the rest of his days, moping around, his ears never perk up besides when you call or text, his tail hasn’t done that cute little flip thing either, or he’ll masturbate over and over, spilling onto himself with a moan of your name every time.

Venti’s eating something when he hears a soft click, his ears perking he immediately runs to the door, seeing you with a wide grin on your face has him jumping onto you, you hug him back just as hard, kissing his head. It doesn’t even take five minutes in the embrace before he’s pawing at your boobs and ass, sniffing and licking you all over: he can’t get enough of you. Ten minutes in and he’s managed to coerce you out of your clothes, another three minutes and you’re above him, chests heaving with your strap lined up against the poor pups hole, he’s decided he wants to face you on his back the entire time.

Prepping him is thrown out the window when you see his already lubbed hole, naughty boy must’ve been busy earlier. Right now venti can’t keep quiet on how much he missed you. Lining yourself up with his hole, you’re just as needy as him so you start a fast pace as soon as you enter, cooing at him how good doing so far. Venti’s open mouthed panting, the feeling of your strap sliding in and out of him feels so much better than when he would finger himself, it feels like a current spreading through his body and making his chest throb with want. Through the motion of it he grabs his cock and begins jerking off, the combined feelings has him leaking precum, lots of precum.

You lean down and press kisses to his temple, to his nose and to his lips, just in time he lets out a loud mewl: inviting you to suck on his tongue and press it far down his throat, oh god he loves it so much that tears decorate his waterline but don’t yet fall over.

Venti begins to writhe underneath you, signaling he’s about to cum, you hammer into him to help him along, his body twitches before fat globs of his cum land on your stomach and his.

You remove the strap and crawl up to his face, placing your thighs on either side and lowering your pretty cunt. After Venti catches his breath he weakly wraps his arms and your thighs and gives small laps, his face is flushed, eyes glazed over but nonetheless he’s also missed your pussy too. His cute little tail starts swishing back and forth.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #fem reader #venti smut #venti x reader #sub venti #PuppyboyVenti #zsworks #venti x Femreader

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therapycat21 · 5 months

Text

All Right Now Part 10

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description: The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None

Social Media AU

It has officially been a year we have been together and engaged for two months. And It’s been absolutely amazing. Travis and I have been talking and trying to jot down ideas for the wedding and trying to get a head start so It can be easier for us later on.

Everytime we sit down and scroll and try to find ideas it has been nothing but overwhelming, there is a lot that goes into a wedding. Everytime we look at places or themes all I want to do is elope somewhere with our family but I highly doubt Travis would be down for that. Since I was a teenager I always thought a big wedding was too much,

Too much time

Too much money

When all the other girls would talk about their future weddings it would be all out with the most outrageous stuff but me on the other hand, I loved simplicity, even now that I’m more known everyone expects the big and extravagant event, I mean I’m okay with a small quick ceremony and then a party that is more out there afterwards for everyone but other then that, I crave the normality and the simplicity of it, and If I’m gonna get married once in my life It needs to be exactly how we want.

“Why do you look so focused?” Travis breaks me from my thoughts from where we sit at the dining room table, I look up from where I was staring into space on my phone. I shake my head putting my phone down I sigh “It is a little overwhelming I guess, I don’t know I just think I’m overthinking it.” I tell him.

Travis nods his head slightly “what are you overthinking?” he questions “literally everything, the venue, the guest list, the food, hell even if we do round tables or not” I snort “who said we have to do any of that?” he tells me, confused “what do you mean?” I asked him “I mean, why do we have to do any of that, who said we can’t get eloped and then have a party afterward” he smiles at me before grabbing his phone heading to the couch “just think about it” he says.

I sit at the counter a little stunned before rushing after him “Wait a second!”. All I hear is him laughing as I jog after him.

Time skip—-

“Are absolutely sure about this?” I asked apprehensive to Travis, In return all I get in response is a smile that takes over his entire face. Travis grabs my face into his hands “I’ve never been more sure about this baby” We smile at each other before Travis turns back to the open laptop resting on his legs, he taps the screen confirming the payment for the marriage license, I turn to him squealing “oh my god! I can’t believe we just did that!” I jump on him plastering his face with small kisses, laughing from excitement.

I pull away “so that means we can do it whenever we want?” I question he nods his head in agreement “Whenever we want baby” I smile in acceptance before smirking “so that even means today?” I ask he turns looking at me shocked “you would marry today?” he asks like that’s even a question.

I nod “of course I would, that’s never up for debate” I tell him, now waiting for a response. He nods his head slowly before belly laughing, grabbing me into a full bear hug and scattering kisses all over my face as I laugh. He let's go, jumping off the bed pulling me with him.

“come on, let’s go, we are getting married today, I gotta call mom, dad and Jason so they know where to meet us” he runs off into the bathroom excitedly to get ready. I laugh before turning to pick up my phone to call mom.

The call finally connects and my moms voice greets me “so, you’re never gonna believe what’s happening today” I tell her smiling.

Time skip—-

I stare into the mirror at my reflection, I’m wearing a simple white dress from one of the many award shows I’ve gone to. The door opens and I see my mom’s head poke in with a grin “hey, how’re you feeling?” she asks fully entering the room, shutting the door behind her. I give her a shaky sigh in response “I’m so nervous, what if he changes his mind?” I asked her.

Smiling she brings me into a hug “seeing how that man looks at you and seeing how he puts you on such a high pedestal, I have no doubt in my mind that man will never change his mind about marrying you” she tells me, I can see tears starting to cloud her eyes, “Oh mama” I say pulling her tighter into the hug.

We hug for a little longer before she moves out of the embrace and slightly shakes my shoulder “Okay, let’s go, we have my son-in-law waiting probably scared to death” she laughs. I smile before giving myself a once over in the mirror and we head to the door to the ceremony doors.

My mom loops her arm through mine as the doors open and I’m greeted with the small Kelce family on one side and a few of our friends on the other. We start to walk.

I smile at the girls, Kylie and Jason before my attention is brought to the podium.

Travis wears a black suit looking absolutely amazing. I could see the tears forming in his eyes from the doors, causing me to start tearing up as we got closer to him. As I step up onto the podium with Travis’s help, I greet the officiant with a smile. Travis grasps my hands in his warm ones.

The officiant gives a brief smile to the both of us “okay, let’s do this shall we?”. I look over to Travis once more “you sure about this?” I jokingly asks he belly laughs “Oh baby, I’ve never been more ready.” I nod turning to the officiant “let’s do this”.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist:

@whitemanswhore3

@bxdbxtxh15

@cixrosie

@kkrenae

@the-untamed-soul

@calirindo

@armystay89

@hotwheels1108

@awatt31

@bobthe-turmpetman29

@goldenharrysworld

@chimchimmarie

@jmamas92

@itsdesiree86

#travis kelce #travis x reader #allrightnowseries #famous!reader #kansas city chiefs

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silentium-symphony · 7 months

Text

It Can Wait (Link x Reader)

(a/n) sorry it took awhile! college is starting to pick up and senioritis is hitting like a truck. while i drown in various marine labs (not the fun ones with seals and dolphins, the scary ones that feature Excel and R), please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic LOL

cw: how can i call myself a fanfic writer if i don't do the One Bed™ trope ;), some swearing, ya'll are just a pair of awkward lovestruck goobers, honestly just pure fluff :)

wc: 5.3k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You watched the edge of the sun rake the tip of some far-off mountain, dipping lower and lower past the horizon; your heart followed the celestial body in its descent to darkness. Concern loomed over your head like a thick thundercloud and your bleary eyes focused on your companion's sun-washed back.

"Hey... Link?"

The tips of his oranged ears twitched and he cast an indifferent glance past his shoulder.

"Do you see anything up ahead? A town or a stable, maybe?"

Link threw his gaze forward and 'hmph-ed,' jabbing his pointer finger to a bundle of dots precariously painted on the horizon. Your feet fluttered at the sight of civilization, momentarily forgetting the pins and needles that have been poking your legs and lower back for the past three hours.

"Oh thank Hylia--a town!"

Link had never seen you move so fast--he had to catch up with you! He lightly jogged to cover the distance.

"Slow down," he called out, voice barely louder than the winds, "you're not gonna make it at that pace."

"But Liiiink..." You whined. "A town! Civilization! Possibly with an inn! And beds!"

Not a moment later you felt your hand snatched in his as he practically dragged the two of you through the plains, exhaustion and aches be damned.

“L-Link! By the gods, slow down! You’re scuffing my boots!”

“Bed.”

“Link!!!”

You dove and ducked your head under whizzing branches, fumbled over a small brook, and ran what felt like an eternity before the rusted iron gates came into view. You were heaving at this point, each raggedy breath caught in the edges of your swollen lungs. Your stamina-for-days friend also seemed a bit spent, but he pushed onward and paid little mind to the blood rushing through his temples.

You practically collapsed at the gate, tumbling onto all fours and dry-heaving your next breath. Link, noticeably shaking, placed a trembling hand on the wall as he, too, fought to breathe. Hylia, he hadn’t run like that in years—even if he were the Hero of Hyrule™.

“Don’t,” you spat out in between heaves. “Ever do that again.”

“But we… made it… before they locked the gates.” Link was in much better shape than you (which wasn’t saying much) as he pointed to the town guards lowering the metal gates with a resounding clang.

A groan, a shuffle, followed by relief as you felt the wall’s cool stone ease the sweat and heat off your back. You threw your head up and took as deep of a breath as you could, dizzy from the bursts and sparks of colors behind your eyelids. You felt something hard slip into your laps and you winced your eyes open. A canteen?

“Drink some water.” Link’s lips were already moistened with the aqua panacea. You looked up at him gratefully and happily lapped up the rest of its contents, noting to fill his bottle later. The crisp spring water brought much-needed relief to the desert your throat had become; Link slipped the empty canteen into his pouch and looked around for the—

“What… Is that?”

You followed Link’s finger up and up and up to some… Structure? Spire? Shooting into the windows of an equally tall building. Your eyes bounced between the rickety invention and the bewildered blues of your companion, totally lost.

Only one way to find out.

After you got your bearings, you and Link slowly made your way over to the building, which happened to be… the inn? The structure grew clearer in your vision, but you still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The main piece looked like a bunch of bamboo glued together by the ends, with some tubes sticking off to the side and into several rooms. The tail disappeared into the murky depths of a hot spring—HOT SPRING????

Link must have realized the godly pools the same time you did, his head whipping around to meet your excited gaze. You both slipped through the door and were immediately encased in a scent of steam and aromatics. It was as if the very essence of the hot spring was embedded in the inn's walls.

“Welcome, welcome! How can I— L-Link?!”

Link shot at the sound of his own name, looking over to the innkeeper who seemed… starstruck?

“I-It’s really you, sir! Wow, I… Wow!”

“I’m sorry but… Do we know you?” You chimed from the back.

“Oh! Um, I’m so terribly sorry. You may not remember me Link, but I remember you! This young man here has saved my life!”

“He did?”

“I have?”

“Yes! Do you not remember the weary traveler with the twisted ankle at the bottom of a ditch?" Link, in fact, did not remember. "That was me, sir! You took the time to tend my injuries and dropped me off right here in this very town!”

He bowed deeply, the little patch of hair on his head dipping with him.

“I’ve always wanted to thank you for your kindness, sir. Without you, I wouldn’t have realized my dreams of running a world-renowned inn!”

‘World-renowned?’

“It is by the grace of Hylia we meet again. For you only, I am offering you our premium room for the price of a regular one!”

Link’s ears twitched, no doubt in celebration of this seemingly once-in-a-lifetime deal. He turned to you, eager eyes bulging out of his head, and your laugh was all the okay he needed. He pulled out his wallet and paid for the night.

“What makes this room so special?” You interrupted before the innkeeper could grub the last rupee.

“I’m so glad you asked! Surely you have seen that tower outside our fine establishment, yes?”

You nodded slowly.

“With a lil’ bit of magic and Hylian ingenuity, we have devised a way to jet water from the hot springs straight to your room! Our premium rooms showcase the magic firsthand in the form of, what we call, a shower!”

“A… Shower?”

“Yes! You’ll see very soon, it is a wonderful addition to any room. We’ve really struck gold with this one…” He mumbled towards the end, not fully realizing he said it aloud. “Please, allow me to show you to your rooms!”

You two followed the short, stocky innkeeper up a few flights of stairs and down winding hallways. He stopped at the door to your room and plopped a golden key into Link’s hand.

“This is your room! Have fun with the shower, lovebirds!”

The innkeeper winked; a pair of mouths gaped open in heated protest, but he had already rounded the corner and returned to his innkeeper duties. A frazzled look sparked between two wide eyes and Link gulped, looking away to turn the key.

With a click, twist, and push, you were greeted by a grand bed spread across the middle of the room, dwarfing the moderately sized bookshelf packed with books and knickknacks. To your right was a gorgeous mahogany round table with matching chairs, a scene of woodland festivity carved about the curve of the surface. A wicket basket full of all kinds of goodies sat neatly atop the bed’s luscious sheets, vying for attention.

Like children in a candy store, you both fumbled right in and immediately made yourselves at home, kicking off your dirty and scuffed boots at the door ⁽ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵍˡᵃʳᵉ⁾ and slugging your bag onto the round table. The silky sheets were practically calling your name, but the layer of sweat and grime accumulated on your skin made you hesitate to tarnish the clean bed.

The singular clean bed.

Your heart lurched to your throat and you immediately threw a hesitant look at Link, who was going through the gift basket and humming happily. He must not have noticed. He finally turned to you with a bright smile, spoils of the room in hand, and his features immediately fell at your concerned look.

“Is everything all right?”

“There’s only one bed.”

“What? No there isn’t, there’s…” He glanced around the room, his lazed looks turning into frenzied glimpses. Link’s cheeks darkened to a hue similar to the deep red bedsheet.

“Oh.”

"W-Well, it's not that big of a deal..." You two have clawed your way out of the deepest pits of suffering together, surely you could handle one measly lil' night in a spacious bed. In a bid to calm your racing thoughts, your head lolled to the side and frantically searched the rest of the room; an inconspicuous door caught your attention. Two weary bodies crept towards the door, giddy with anticipation.

A room adorned with all the regular happenings of a bathroom filled your vision, but off to the corner was a... long, rectangular, glass box? With a spout carved into the wall? As you neared the contraption, still unsure of what to think of it, a golden gear caught your eye, as well as various sprigs and bunches of mint and lavender. The gear turned with a squeak, and steamed water poured forth in a steady stream. A holler left you and Link as you watched the technological marvel steam up the room. You squeaked the faucet close and turned to the man behind you.

"So who's gonna go first?"

"You can," he stepped out, "I need to stop by the market before it closes."

“What? Are you sure?”

He nodded; you waved goodbye to the blonde as he slipped on his boots, tucked his wallet in his pocket, and left. While his footsteps disappeared down the hall, you slipped out of your grimy clothes, fetched fresh ones from your sack, and waltzed into the shower.

With a quick turn of your wrist, bullets of warm water pelleted all the sore aches knotting your back and shoulders. You let out an audible groan, slinking against the heavenly sensation. The steam coddled the mint and lavender, drawing out the former’s nippy spice before dulling it with the latter’s soothing fragrance. Nature’s finest aromas settled onto your skin and snuggled into your hair. All the cool streams and frigid lakes you’ve been forced to skinny dip in for the past several weeks melted into a distant memory as the heavy fog clouded your thoughts.

But not your sense of awareness.

You poked your head out of the shower, straining your ears for some type of sign that Link had returned. There was stillness on the other side of the door; a relieved sigh slipped out of you.

You felt your throat strain a tad, disuse rusting your vocal cords, as a melody you had since forgotten until this moment clawed its way out of you. A long inhale filled your lungs with scented steam and growing bravado as your quiet, cautious mumbles turned into full-on melodies. You checked every now and then, gear turning slightly to slow and quiet the flow, but the unclicking door assured you were still alone.

And hey, so long as you were quieter than the jetting water, it should be all good… right?

And so you sang your heart out, your rationale loosening your tongue and diaphragm to fill the bathroom with your beautiful voice. You sang a bunch of tunes, from hype music to mournful, soulful ballads. You were performer and audience all bundled in a steamy, mint-kissed, lavender-lapped, package.

If the vapor plumes tickling your ankles were any testament to how long you’d been there, you’d have to admit that your simple shower had turned into a luxurious escape from the cold confines of reality. The last note you sang rolled into a sigh as you turned the gear, the barrage of water turning into a mere trickle. Your reddened body longed to feel the water's hot caresses, but alas, you had to leave your watery sanctuary at some point. Pruny fingers grasped the soft cotton hanging off a hook and you scrunched your hair of excess water before patting yourself down.

You had never felt so clean in your life.

Your warmed pajamas did wonders for your already relaxed muscles and a yawn lapsed out of you. You drowsily clicked the door open, a cloud of steam rolling at your feet, and smiled dreamily at...

Link.

Who was looking rather... flustered.

And amused.

Your heart dropped to the soles of your feet as a cold sweat beaded your brow, a dark realization settling in. Feigning innocence as best you could, you tilted your head.

“… What?”

He stood up from his chair, tossing his locks from side-to-side, and sauntered over to you with his pajamas bundled in the crook of his elbow. As he passed you by, the ghost of a whisper tickled the shell of your ear.

“Nice voice.”

Dear Hylia if you’ve ever loved me strike me down right fucking now

You turned to him, mouth agape and heart reeling, only for his outline to disappear behind a wall of hot mist and wood. The silence on your side of the room was suffocating; Link’s happy little hums funneled the tension out of the situation through the thinnest straw that ever strawed.

Maybe you misheard him? It wasn't like he was much of the teasing type... How long had he been here anyway? Maybe he just walked in as you finished and and and and happened to hear the faucet turn and maybe just maybe it sounded a bit like a squeak that could maybe pass off as a person's voice?

The bracing breeze of the night nipped your sensitive skin and calmed your overstimulated brain. You didn’t remember your journey to the window, but you were thankful your feet had guided you to a refreshing anchor for your frenzied thoughts. You took a deep breath in… and out. Innnn… and out…

This wasn’t so bad. Okay granted, you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your crush whom you’ll be traveling with for the foreseeable future but it’s not all that bad. At least you got this gorgeous view! And wow, birds! Nature! That’s cool!

After several minutes of trying to keep your dooming thoughts at bay, the faucet squeaked a dying note and the last deluge of water dripped into soft drops. Link—still humming and noticeably more at ease—shuffled a fair bit before he made his entrance into the bedroom, hair damp and skin blushed a faint pink and wow he looks so good right now—

You damn near slapped yourself and flashed him a warm (albeit awkward) smile, noting his very shirtless form and the pajamas still scrunched in his arms. He motioned to the parts of the fabric that were darker than usual.

“It fell in a puddle, so I’m letting it air out a bit.” With a whip of his wrists, a worn shirt and matching shorts snapped in front of him and settled on top of a chair. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Knowing that the towel tied around his slutty lil waist was the only thing separating you from a great night got you feeling weak. You hastily turned your gaze to the outside before your blatant staring could turn into gawking.

A silence eclipsed the room as your eyes wandered over the town’s nightlife. Specks of Hylians dotted the dimly lit square; further below, a decently-sized crowd congregated the hot springs, traces of idle chatter floating to your ears. The stars poked an indifferent glow past the cloudy streaks in the sky and although the lunar body had yet to grace you with its presence, its soft light was still felt and appreciated by all.

You felt the air beside you stir and a loud gasp escaped you, jolting at the sudden appearance of the still-shirtless man. He rested his frame against folded arms as he peered off into the night, aestheticizing like you were only moments before. His skin had paled into its familiar alabaster, and the whitish glow of the moon circled a halo about his figure. The familiar sprigs of aromatics tickled your nose, tinging his cypress and amber scent with a fragrance of cleanliness.

“Lovely night.”

“Y-Yes.” You coughed out, still unused to the proximity. Gods, if he already got you acting up like this, how much more during bedtime?

“Did you find everything we needed?” You continued, hoping to make some light conversation about nothing.

“Yes. We’re all stocked up.” A flit of blue met your (E/C)s. “We leave at dawn, so we should head to bed soon.”

"Ah... Are your clothes dry now?"

"Hopefully my shorts are."

Link went to collect his clothes and 'tsk-ed' at the still-damp shirt. His scarred hands ghosted the knot tied right above his pelvis. He eyed your back as he discarded the plush white towel for his shorts, the fabric thinning and pilling from overuse.

"Are you decent?" Your tone lilted mirthfully. You heard fabric creasing and shifting from the bed, and you turned in response to his quiet ‘mm.’ Your core warmed at the sight of a toned, combat-kissed back and you mentally flogged yourself for your ridiculous bashfulness. With your heart pounding a quickening pace in your ears, you sallied over to your edge of the bed and sunk down.

The air was honeyed with sexual tension and you pawed and balled the silky sheets. Link’s heavy gaze rested on the same spot on the wall, fully expecting two holes to drill themselves into existence under his scrutinizing watch.

Why were you so panicked? This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in rather... intimate situations.

A sudden movement made you flinch and you craned your neck to see behind you. With a long sigh, Link ruffled his hair and blew out a candle, muffling a ‘goodnight’ under his breath. The same silence blanketed you again, suffocating coherency out of your racing thoughts.

You pulled your knees over the edge and adjusted yourself under the covers, relieved at the plush mattress coddling the sore gaps in your body. Your head fell to the side and was once again met with Link's back (that was scooted to the very edge of the bed). You didn’t know if you should feel offended or grateful.

You followed suit, turning your body to meet the window. The moonlight was brighter now, casting a gentle spotlight on the floating dust particulates and water specks that traipsed through the window.

Your ears strained to hear and hope for the familiar deep breaths Link drew in the throes of slumber. The deathly quiet was all the sign you needed to know that he was still very much awake (and listening for your soft snores as well).

The soft sheets and the heat radiating off your partner beckoned you further into bed and away from the cold night air that had begun to blow drizzles of rain. Get your rupees’ worth, you told yourself. A tiny voice unfamiliar to you peeped out a,

“Hey… Link?”

He twitched.

“Um… I’m scooting closer, just so you know.”

He doesn’t respond. Or move. Or breathe. While you debated whether he was fast asleep or crossing a boundary, you heard a quiet sigh and a,

“Me too.”

A pair of bodies shuffled closer. His heat spilled past his body and bled into your vicinity; you held back a pleased groan. You shared many a night shivering under the cold misery of wilderness and rain, pressing into each other to preserve what little heat was left between yourselves. Your eyes fluttered shut as the rain outside tapped the roof harder and harder.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

“Link…” You looked up at him, teeth chattering as he beheld you with a warm gaze. He tugged the corners of the cloak closer together while your shaking hands combed matted gold off his forehead.

“Are you warm?”

“As warm as I can be.” Eyes studied your makeshift shelter—a tree’s grove—helplessly. Your wet back was pressed into mossed and ivied bark while your companion’s was bulleted and blown by the storm’s raging tempest. You pulled his shaking body closer, closer, closer, until he was practically on top of you. Still, the winds whipped something nasty against his soaked back, his drenched shirt adding to the frigidity like some sort of reverse blanket.

“I-I don’t know how, but we can try switching…” You hissed through clammy lips. He shook his head, a stray droplet landing and sliding down your cheek.

“Nonsense. You are much colder than I am.”

“Link, you’re literally shaking.”

“And your lips have turned blue.” He pulled the hood further down your face, obscuring your vision, as he took your hands in his and futilely huffed warm air. His leather gloves rubbed and chafed your pruned, muddy digits and he blew again with greater gusto.

“You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. This rain has got to let up at some point.” He murmured, his hot breath tickling your neck. You shivered from the sensation, which he mistook as the cold seeping into your bones. Muscled arms wrapped around your frame and he rubbed your sides, head burying into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll be okay… Just think of something warm, all right?

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The warmth of his skin seeped through your thin pajamas and you let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I was rolling into you!”

“It’s okay,” a pause, “you can… Stay there if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

“Oh… Are you sure?”

He hums. “…warm…”

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“You’re warm, so it… feels nice.”

“Oh...” Your heart thundered against your ribcage. “T-Thanks.”

Quietness cloaked the room once again; neither of you were going to sleep any time soon.

“So uh,” you started, “what are you gonna do when you get back?”

He was silent for awhile, and for a second you thought he had fallen asleep (wouldn’t be the first time he fell asleep mid conversation).

“Report our findings to the princess.”

“Ah… makes sense. How ‘bout after that?”

The male pondered your question and answered with a huff.

“Wait for my next mission.”

That’s… kinda sad..

“Well, is there anyone waiting for you? Y’know, like a…” You gulped, unsure if you wanted to know the answer. “Like a lover or something?”

You felt Link’s breath hitch and your heart sank. Of course he would have someone waiting for him, just look at him. Handsome, chivalrous, kind, strong—you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a thing going on with the princess herself.

“No.” He said at last. “I don’t have anyone in that regard.”

He said it so placidly; you couldn’t detect a hint of emotion behind that matter-of-fact statement. An inconspicuous sigh left your frame.

"Oooh, has anyone caught your eye?" You shimmied up to him before laughing at his flinch. Again, you were unsure if you were ready to hear the answer, but anything felt better than the silence you would otherwise be subjected to.

"Mm..." Was his only response.

"Aww, c'mon! Aren't we travel buddies? We've faced dozens of unimaginable horrors together. Your secret's safe with me."

"Do you have someone waiting for you?" He countered.

"Hey now, don't avoid the question!"

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

Well... It's not like you had anything to hide...

"No, I'm very much single." You laughed, a glimmer of despondence streaking your voice.

. . .

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

"Mm... Pass." You giggled, turning to face him fully now. He felt your shuffle and cast a glance over his shoulder. "Do you like anyone? Or at least find mildly attractive?"

His eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled slowly, the gears in his head turning even slower.

"Yes."

Your sinking heart juxtaposed the overly-hyped "Ooooh!" that left your lips.

"IS IT THE PRINCESS?!"

"Definitely not."

You practically got whiplash at the suddenness of his response; that could mean one of two things: he either really liked the princess, or he wanted nothing to do with her past their 'protector-protectee' relationship.

"Damn, that was fast. Seems mighty suspicious to me..." You nudged the space between his ribcage, plucking a light chuckle out of him.

"I really don't," he laughed dryly, "she's lovely but... Not really my type."

"So what is your type, O Hero of Hyrule?"

He hummed lowly before snapping his body to face you.

"My turn." He chirped through a boyish grin. His hot breath trickled across your cheeks and you swore you could drown in the oceans of his eyes.

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

You didn't think the question could be taken so literally. You blinked multiple times and looked away.

"Uh... Y-Yeah, I'd say so."

An iota of emotion brewed in his eyes, imperceptible to everyone but himself.

"Okay, my turn." You chortled, looking back up at him. "Can you describe your ideal partner?"

Eyes closing and head tilting upwards, Link dissected and analyzed the simple question with care.

"Smart, kind..." A small smile tugged his lips. "Curious, compassionate, brave, selfless..."

He angled his face into the pillow, the softness muffling his lips.

"ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵃᵗˢᶦⁿᵍᶦⁿᵍ"

"Sorry, what?"

"Nothing. So wha--"

"Nonono, you said something! What did you say?"

"Um... Good at..." A pause. "Mingling."

"... Mingling?"

. . .

"Yup."

Maybe facing Ganon with only a cheese grater wasn't such a bad idea after all

You supposed... That made sense. You could only imagine how awkward he must feel at royal banquets and dinner parties. You laughed and lightly flicked his forehead.

"You're such a dork." If you squinted hard enough, you could trick yourself into believing he was blushing. His eyes brightened at the realization it was his turn.

"So who's your ideal partner?"

"Well..." You looked down, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

"Well...?" His chest rumbled with baited anticipation.

"Loyal, caring, respectful, courageous..." You nudged the lower half of your face into your pillow, hoping to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Something like that."

He nodded slowly, the gears in his head slaving away--at what, you had no idea.

"You seem to have a pretty clear idea of what you're looking for."

"So do you!"

"Yes..." He sighed dreamily, lips warming into a rare and genuine smile. "I do."

;)

"Heheheh... Whatcha thinkin' about? Or should I say... Who?"

Panic swirled behind his eyes. "N-No one."

"I heard that stutter!" You exclaimed. "C'mon, we've practically spilled everything to each other--now all I need is a name!"

"You... may not approve."

Your heart crunched in your chest, mind spinning from all the possibilities.

"I mean... Whether I like them or not shouldn't matter. Your feelings for that person, whoever they may be, are valid."

The way your eyes crinkled so... lovingly at him made him want to curl into a ball and melt into a lovestruck puddle. How could you be this cute? This sweet? And single? Maybe... Just maybe...

"You really think so?"

"Of course! Well, if you had a crush on Ganon then we might have a problem." Your lips relaxed into a small smile. "But so long as they aren't him, I don't think there's anyone out there who I would hate."

Link balanced his chin between his pointer and thumb. Your lips curled thoughtfully, forming your next question in a bid to loosen his tongue.

"When you think of them, do you think of what could be? Where life could take the two of you?"

"Of course." He answered instantly, then reddened at how quick he responded. "I've thought about it for... awhile."

His bashfulness was met with one of your angelic chortles and you looked at him head-on.

"You deserve to be happy, Link. You deserve to live the life you want with the person you love."

His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sincerity in your eyes. Eyes that beheld him with grace and acceptance for all his failures and shortcomings. Eyes that saw him past his title of Hero. Eyes that could lift an entire kingdom's burden off his shoulders with a simple crinkle and twinkle.

"It's you."

You laughed, not quite processing what he said until--

"Wait, huh?"

"It's..." He gulped, reminding himself which piece of the Triforce he carried. "You."

"M-... Me?"

"Yes. You are who I love. You are who I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's... you."

"Oh, Link..." His heart cracked at the quietness in your tone. For once, it hurt hearing his name leave your lips.

"If you don't feel the same way, I understand. I promise I won't let this interfere with our mi--"

"No, Link! I love you too!"

Life filled his eyes, piercing a ray of light through his darkened visage.

"You... You do...?"

"Yes!" You cried out, wrapping him closer to you. "Gods, I've loved you for so long...!"

"R-Really? Me too!”

“Since when?!” You both exclaimed, new love jolting a shock of energy that mismatched the time of day.

“You go first.” Link spurred, giddiness rocking him to and fro.

“Ever since that night in the tree… Do you remember? It was pouring and you were shielding me from the storm.”

He pulled away from you slightly to stroke your hair, relishing how your soft, newly washed strands laced around his fingers.

“We had just embarked on our journey.”

“I knowww.” You drew out, giggling and nuzzling into his bare chest. “What about you? When did you fall for me?”

“It was… Before our trip.”

“What?! Really?!”

He nodded.

“I saw you feeding some strays while I was patrolling the castle one time and, well…” He rubbed his neck embarrassed. “I knew you had a heart of gold the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“That was so long ago…" You reminisced about the glowing gaze your animal friends reveled you in. "Boy, I had you whipped for that long, huh?”

“You could say that.” An airy breath stuttered out of him. “You looked so beautiful… I couldn’t get enough of that look in your eyes. Pure, selfless joy. It was… mesmerizing.”

His eyes caught yours, almost as if they were searching for the same joy he spoke of. The glimmer in his seafoam pools must have meant he found it and more.

“So how’d you feel when we were assigned to this mission together?” You laughed, clearly picturing a flustered Link pacing around his room as he just about melted through the floor.

“I felt many things—panic, for one.”

“Aww, lil' ol' me got your heart racing?”

“Yes.”

Now it was your heart’s turn to race, so touched by his candor.

"You were as beautiful as you were kind; as clever as you were tough. How could I have not fallen deeper in love?" He coughed out, a hand masking the blush that promenaded his cheeks. "You always took such good care of me after our battles... Patching me up before you even wiped the dirt off your face."

"Well, you'd do it for me, no?" You jibed, fingers raking through his hair. He chuckled fondly at the form of aftercare foreign to most couples.

"And to top it all off..." He leaned down, the surface of his lips tickling your earlobe. "You have the loveliest voice in the world."

A light slap stung his chest and he roared in laughter.

"Gods, you really heard that...?!" Your hands cupped your heated cheeks and you rocked backward, jaw clenching and legs squirming from mortification.

"It's okay! More than okay! You sounded gorgeous, (F/N)."

Your heart fluttered at the sound of your own name, unused to the way it purred so perfectly out of him. Your sheepish side glance happened upon his heartfelt visage, which did wonders to ease any discomforts you had.

"Your voice was beautiful. Like a-- Like a--"

A chorus of chirps announced the arrival of morning; you both shared a horror-struck look before shortly bursting into laughter. You talked the whole night away!

He kissed your eyelids and draped the blanket over your shoulders, wrapping his arm about your waist.

"We can stay another night if you'd like. Spend a day in town." His suggestion was met with fervent nodding. "Our duties to the throne... Our mission... All of it. It can wait."

#link #link x you #link x reader #legend of zelda #loz #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fandom #loz link x reader #link x reader fluff #link fluff #unrelated but FUCK R #AND EXCEL #if i have to find the population abundance of fuckingf trout one more time im gonna lose it #..... i had a long night yall LMAO #my own damn fault for making the ocean my major FUCK

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