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technologymagan · 2 years

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About 5 cities where the wind is. | 5 शहरों के बारे में जहां की हवा है सबसे साफ जानें केरल से लेकर सिक्कम तक

5 शहरों के बारे में जहां की हवा है About 5 cities where the wind is. भारत में कई खूबसूरत शहर हैं, जहां हर किसी को अपने जीवन में एक बार जरूर जाना चाहिए और वहां की खूबसूरती का लुत्फ उठाना चाहिए। खासकर इस समय जब दिल्ली और आसपास के कई शहरों में हवा जहरीली हो रही है। तो अगर आप भी इस प्रदूषण से दूर स्वच्छ हवा में कुछ दिन बिताना चाहते हैं तो इन 5 शहरों की ओर रुख किया जा सकता है। किन्नौर, हिमाचल प्रदेश…

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#10 Interesting Facts #10 रोचक तथ्य #15 august 1947 day #15 august 2021 how many years #Adipurush movie prabhas #Almonds #Amazing Facts #Amazing Facts 2020 #Badam Nutrition Facts #benefits of drinking hot water to lose weight #benefits of drinking warm water for skin #benefits of drinking warm water in the morning #किन्नौर #हिमाचल प्रदेश

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boltnutrition · 1 year

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WATER ON AN EMPTY STOMACH HAS 8 EXCEPTIONAL HEALTH BENEFITS

There are many benefits of drinking water on an empty stomach, including weight loss, improved digestion, and increased energy levels. Drinking water on an empty stomach can also help to flush out toxins from the body, improve circulation, and boost the immune system.

While there are many benefits of drinking water on an empty stomach, it is important to drink the right amount of water. For most people, drinking eight ounces of water on an empty stomach is the perfect amount. However, if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, you should drink more water.

There are no side effects of drinking water on an empty stomach, but you should always consult with your doctor before making any changes to your diet.

What advantages does drinking water first thing in the morning have?

Drinking water on an empty stomach has numerous benefits, including an improved metabolism, better digestion, and a flush out of toxins from the body. Studies have shown that drinking water on an empty stomach helps jumpstart the metabolism, improves digestion and hydration, and helps to flush out toxins from the body. Additionally, drinking water on an empty stomach helps to maintain electrolyte balance in the body and keep the body hydrated throughout the day. Additionally, drinking water on an empty stomach can help to reduce fatigue and increase energy levels.

Drinking water first thing in the morning helps to keep the body hydrated and energized throughout the day. A reduction in fatigue can help you stay focused and productive throughout the day, and can also help to reduce stress levels.

How does drinking water on an empty stomach help with weight loss?

Drinking water on an empty stomach is an effective way to boost the metabolism and lose weight. Studies have shown that drinking water first thing in the morning can help the body burn more calories throughout the day. Additionally, drinking water on an empty stomach helps to flush out toxins from the body and boost the metabolism, which can help to burn fat and reduce weight. Drinking water on an empty stomach can also help to reduce cravings and hunger. Studies have shown that drinking water can help to fill the stomach and reduce hunger cravings. Drinking water on an empty stomach can help with portion control and can help to reduce overeating, which can have a positive impact on weight loss.

How does drinking water on an empty stomach improve digestion?

Drinking water on an empty stomach can have a positive impact on digestion. Drinking water helps to stimulate the digestive system, which can help to break down food and absorb nutrients more efficiently. Additionally, drinking water on an empty stomach helps to flush out toxins from the digestive system and improve nutrient absorption. Drinking water on an empty stomach can also help to prevent constipation. Studies have shown that drinking water helps to soften stool and increase the bulk of stools, which can help to make bowel movements easier and more comfortable. Additionally, drinking water on an empty stomach helps to keep the digestive system hydrated, which can help to alleviate intestinal cramps and discomfort.

What are the other health benefits of drinking water on an empty stomach?

In addition to improving digestion and promoting weight loss, drinking water on an empty stomach can have a number of other health benefits. Drinking water on an empty stomach helps to improve circulation, boost the immune system, reduce headaches, and prevent dehydration. Drinking water on an empty stomach helps to improve circulation by aiding the delivery of oxygen to cells throughout the body. Additionally, drinking water helps to improve the functioning of the immune system and can help to prevent dehydration. Studies have shown that drinking water can help to reduce headaches caused by dehydration and can also help to reduce stress and anxiety levels.

How much water should you drink on an empty stomach?

For most people, eight ounces of water is the perfect amount to drink on an empty stomach. However, if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, you should drink more water. Additionally, if you spend a lot of time outdoors in hot weather, you may need more water to stay hydrated.

Are there any side effects of drinking water on an empty stomach?

There are no side effects of drinking water on an empty stomach. Before making any dietary adjustments, it is, however, always advisable to speak with your doctor. Additionally, drinking too much water can cause electrolyte imbalances, so it is best to limit yourself to eight ounces of water on an empty stomach.

To wrap things up

Drinking water on an empty stomach has numerous health benefits, including improved digestion, weight loss, increased energy levels, and improved circulation. Drinking eight ounces of water on an empty stomach is the perfect amount for most people, but you should always consult with your doctor before making changes to your diet. There are no side effects of drinking water on an empty stomach, but it is best to limit yourself to eight ounces of water.

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4theitgirls · 10 months

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wonyoungism: a guide

wonyoungism is inspired by jang wonyoung and mixes a coquette, cute, pink pilates princess style with self improvement to help us become the best and healthiest versions of ourselves!

ways to express wonyoungism

have a morning routine

a morning routine helps set the tone for the rest of your day. while you can include whatever you want, typical wonyoungism morning routines include waking up early, stretching, skincare, drinking tea or lemon water, and doing your makeup and hair. do what works for you and makes you feel the best!

take care of your skin

research your skin type and find what products and routines will work best for you. no need for fancy or expensive products! in my experience, minimalism works best for my skin. a good cleanser and moisturizer are key, but you can also include things like toner, exfoliating scrubs, night cream, eye cream, and serums if you need or want them. wonyoung is an ambassador for innisfree skincare products, like these:

have a nutritious, balanced diet

having a nutritious diet keeps you healthy and energized, helps your skin and hair, makes you feel good, and has so many other benefits! focus on getting your daily servings of fruit and veggies and getting your protein and other nutrients and vitamins in, but don’t restrict yourself to the point of bad mental health. here’s a good chart to start with!

find a daily exercise regimen

most workouts you’ll find with wonyoungism are pilates, walking, and yoga (which i highly recommend!) but find a workout plan that YOU like! there are so many different types of workouts out there, and you shouldn’t force yourself to do something you hate. try out different things and figure out what works best for you. if you do want to practice pilates and yoga, here are some good channels on youtube:

move with nicole

dansique fitness

yoga with kassandra

eleni fit

sanne vloet

bailey brown

implement productive habits into your day

instead of mindlessly scrolling in your free time, try to implement productive and healthy activities. these things can include:

working out or stretching

drawing or painting

researching something that interests you

learn a new skill or a new language

read

write short stories

make a new playlist

go outside/go for a walk/spend time in nature

journal

make a vision board

be kind to yourself

sounds self explanatory, but it can be so much harder than it sounds for some of us. it may take some time, but realize that you are only human and you are doing the best you can. it’s okay to not feel as healthy or happy as you think you should, but you are absolutely valid and it is okay to be gentle with yourself. you are the only you there will ever be, embrace being you!

have an evening routine

evening/night routines are important because it closes out your day and gets you ready for a good nights sleep. it’s so helpful to have an evening routine that helps you wind down and get relaxed mentally and physically. this can include whatever makes you feel calm and happy, but it can also include things like stretching, lighting a candle, skincare, reading, meditation, and drinking a warm drink like tea!

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abibliophobiaa · 3 months

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falling like the stars, falling in love

eddie Munson x f!reader. unrequited steve harrington x reader. unrequited eddie munson x nancy wheeler. steve harrington x nancy wheeler.

summary: you’re fifteen when you fall in love with your best friend, and twenty-one when it all falls apart. eddie munson is there to pick up the pieces of your heart, and you’re there to gather his. but both of you get more than you ever bargained for when your silly friends with benefits arrangement becomes complicated. but such is the nature of love. (15k words).

warnings: 18+, smut, loss of virginity (r), friends with benefits, codependent (maybe toxic) relationships, angst, unrequited love, heartbreak, second chance romance, drinking, mentions of recreational smoking…but i promise a happy ending.

——

The sun shines the next morning.

There’s comfort in knowing it always does, even if the day that came before was one of the hardest you ever faced.

A new page, a turning point, and maybe a new beginning.

It’s all you hope for.

You lean against the wooden beams of the lake house, overlooking Lover’s Lake. Birds chirp in the trees, leaves shift to and fro, the water ripples and shudders, a child giggles near the dock, a mother calls out to another running in the grass.

A blanket covers your form, the chill of the morning air spreading gooseflesh along your arms.

Your body aches in places, a lovely kind of ache. An ache from his fingers along your skin, his lips at your mouth, his hips between your thighs.

An ache from being loved thoroughly.

A living, breathing, comforting thing.

“Are you okay?”

It’s a soft whisper against your ear. You hum gently as he draws nearer.

His hands circle your waist. Your fingers brush over the backs of his forearms. Familiar.

The heat of his chest rests at your back. Your body slumps into his, a new comfort to be found there.

His chest is still bare, hair still a mess. But when you turn in his arms and take him in you find you like it. Tousled and unkempt by your hands, his eyes peering down at yours soft and sweet and warm.

Uniquely him. You love those eyes. Could spend forever falling into them. A long time, a lifetime, but spending it beside him is the greatest gift you could ever long for.

And the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

The answer isn’t simple.

Then again, none of this has ever been.

——

It starts when you’re fifteen.

Silly teenagers with nothing but dreams and fantasies.

No thoughts or cares in the world, other than what clothes to wear, what part time job you want to work, who you’re interested in and who likes you back.

Silliness.

Triviality that, if you look back on it now, wish you could get back.

Steve Harrington is perfect. He’s your best friend. The first person you met when you moved to Hawkins at nine years of age. He’s charming and on the school baseball and basketball teams.

He’s liked by most, but to him you are special.

Best friends, in the way that always brings a smile to your face because you know it’s the forever kind.

Permanent in the way the scar on your knee is, from the day you and Steve raced across the pool yard after hours, outrunning Hopper, and you’d cut it when hopping the fence in your efforts to get away.

You’re fifteen and Steve’s body is changing a bit. He’s fuller than you remember, honed by hours of working out, of skin tanned from endless hours in the summer sun. He’s always been handsome, but that summer he just seemed different.

You’re fifteen and you’re reading a book, left propped open between the circle of your thighs as he calls your name and you lift yourself up to sit, taking in the boy treading water in the pool.

His hair is a wet mess. Little droplets clinging to the ends of his hair, his long lashes. He’s grinning at you — a pearly white smile that has your heart twirling in your chest.

You shove it away, because it has been doing that for months now. It’s a new side effect with him. A sickness you’ve never felt before. Some might call it love, and you groan, shoving your finger in your mouth when your friends tease you about it because ‘he’s my best friend’ and ‘that’ll never happen.’

But you don’t know what else to call that annoying fluttery feeling in your belly when he draws near. Nor can you stop the pitter patter of your heart when he looks your way.

It’s inconvenient, troubling, and it’s a crush.

A silly crush that’ll go away. These things always do.

Don’t they?

And maybe that’s a foolish thought. You certainly think so when he teases you to come on in. Warns that the water is warm.

You hesitate on the hem of your tee shirt. You don’t know why, because he’s seen you in bathing suits before, but lately even this feels different. You want him to look at you the way he looks at the girls at school, and yet you also don’t want him to look at all, because if he looks he might see all your imperfections. Might see something he doesn’t like, and for some reason you hate that even more.

Because you want him to like you, to like all of you, to want you in the way you know you want him.

You’re fifteen and you’re swimming in a pool with your best friend. Your boy who also happens to be your friend. Never a boyfriend.

Never that.

You’re fifteen and you splutter out how you turned down a date with Brendan Abbott because, “I’ve never been kissed.”

“Really?” Steve asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. And before you can even question the curiosity in his voice, he adds, “I just mean…you’re pretty. I bet loads of guys want to kiss you.”

Not the one that matters, though, you think to yourself.

Steve’s kissed dozens of girls, you know. You know because he’s told you, his cheeks staining a pretty pink. He always goes pink like that, and you always smile back, despite that odd pain that wedges its way between your ribs.

Heartache you think, but again, you’ll never put a name to it.

“I could kiss you, you know?” he suggests. And he’s red again in the face, quickly spluttering, “I mean, your first kiss should be with someone special, right?”

Steve’s the most special.

So you’re fifteen and he’s wading over to you in the pool. He cups your cheek and looks you in the eye. There’s a heartbeat and he’s kissing you. Soft, sweet, simple. It doesn’t linger long. Doesn’t give you enough time to feel like fireworks are exploding in the sky. But it’s enough to set something into motion.

Something terrible, really.

Because you’re fifteen and you’re in love — and maybe you’ll always be.

——

You’re nineteen when you meet Eddie.

A glass bottle to the man you love’s throat. He’s there in an instant, terror in his eyes, and you shriek at the suddenness of it. His eyes flash and you recognize him.

You had…a class before with him.

Can’t recall which.

You know him, of course.

Everyone knows Eddie Munson. Maybe not for all good reasons — and at this moment, it’s the worst reason. Because you’ve been looking for him for hours, trying to figure out what in the hell happened to Chrissy.

He looks like a deer in headlights. A terrified human searching for comfort when the world has grown cold.

He recalls what he saw.

Her body, broken. The way she hovered up on the ceiling. The way her eyes were ripped from her body. It’s gruesome and horrible and you curl a hand around his forearm when you notice he’s trembling. A shiver that only someone who has seen death head on knows. You’d seen it before, when Billy died the summer before that.

So you offer him that. A hand for comfort, as he recounts the worst day of his life, and you realize the newest worst day of yours.

It ends up being a long few days. You spend them hoping you’ll all get out alive, and in the process you find a friend in him. He’s charismatic and frenetic, he’s funny and he’s dramatic and he’s handsome in a rugged way that Steve isn’t.

And he notices the way you stare at Steve. Offers you a hand of comfort as you all trek into the Upside Down. You take it, and it feels like a new friendship.

Neither of you speaks, but it feels like an understanding.

——

At twenty, Steve’s halfway in love with Nancy all over again. You’re used to this. Steve has fallen in love with what feels like all of Hawkins — all except you. Neither of you speaks about that. You’ll never bring it up to him, can’t fathom the idea of shattering years of friendship.

But there’s something different about this time. The way he talks about her and how things are going. He’s dreaming of his future. Talking about kids. His Winnebago. About a future that suddenly seems like it’s hurtling towards you, while you’re seemingly stuck in place in the past.

It chokes you. The idea of him and her. Her and him and their six children he tells you about. Traveling all around the world, making memories, starting a new life.

He never talks like this and it terrifies you.

“I’m sure he’s just being his usual self,” Robin says, “diving in and hoping he doesn’t sink. You know how things were with him and Nancy before.”

“This feels different, Rob.” You huff and you whine and she offers you another beer and a look of sympathy you know means she’s really just doing her best.

There are few people in this world who know how deep your feelings run for your best friend. Those quite literally being her and Eddie Munson. And you plan on keeping it that way until the day you die.

Even so, it still hurts the next weekend when you’re all over Eddie’s new government funded apartment for a game night. Nancy gets up to leave and Steve offers to drive her home. And though you offer to clean the dishes for Eddie in the kitchen, it’s not an innocent offer by any means, because you watch them through the curtains.

Don’t know why you do. It stings. Burns in your eyes fiercely as you watch him lean down to kiss her. Watch how his hand slides down her back and into the pocket of her jeans, the way their bodies fit together like they’re made to, how he holds her close like she’s everything to him. Just like he’s everything to you.

“You’re only screwing over yourself by doing that,” Eddie murmurs from behind you, a dish towel hanging over his shoulder. He holds out a hand as you swipe at the tears gathering on your cheeks, and you hand him a plate to dry down.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff, sponge running over the glass. “Plus you’re one to talk.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He shakes his head with a scoff, moving around you to put a plate away.

“I don’t?” you ask, eyes narrowing.

“No.”

There’s a day you remember vividly. All of you at Lover’s Lake. You, freshly out of the water after Steve tackled you off the dock at the end of your family’s lake home and the two of you ended up splashing at one another for an hour.

He sat by Nancy around the fire after and you opened the screen door to find Eddie leaning over the back porch railing with a beer in his hand. He watched her like one would watch a movie. Her every move, each smile that curled her lips, holding onto her every word like he might memorize them all. The lilt, the cadence, the tone.

In a moment, you recalled all the times you’d seen them together prior. His best friend, he proclaimed. And maybe it was in the way Steve was your best friend. The other half of your soul. Your person. But you also saw the hurt reflected there in Eddie’s gaze whenever she stared at Steve.

Because while Eddie always stared at Nancy, Nancy always stared at Steve.

“It sucks when you’re always looking at them, but they never look at you back,” you laugh miserably, handing him a glass cup, back in his kitchen, “right?”

He looks away.

He doesn’t speak after that.

Good, you think.

Conversation over.

——

It carries on like that.

Pining.

Wanting.

Waiting.

Loving him while you watch him love another.

But you suppose it’s not all bad — that there is some solace in this world you’re destined to walk.

There’s comfort in the kids. In watching them flourish. In your friendships. There are milestones. When you graduate from your community college program and move into your first apartment. Steve, with a ball cap on his head, arms toned as they hug your boxes. Eddie behind him, his hair pulled back into a ponytail.

They’ve grown closer over time, best of friends who scare similar scars. Kindred, in a sick sort of way they never should have been, simply because sometimes the world is cruel.

Eddie looks at you and you look at him and there’s a smolder of something between you, a promise for when everyone else heads home for the night.

That’s a newer development, too.

This…pseudo relationship with Eddie. A space between being together and not. In knowing each other’s bodies in a way that most friends don’t.

And maybe it’s wrong. The way you twine together some nights like vines. Him stumbling through the door after the sun goes down over Hawkins — because no one knows about this secret dalliance — and rushing across your living room to grasp your face in his hands. To kiss you soundly and drag you down onto the floor, ridding you of your clothes, your underwear, his mouth seeking your center like he’s starving for air.

You’re not really sure when it starts.

Sure, there’s always been an attraction there, but it’s always been something you don’t really dwell on, because Steve is the true paramour of your affection.

And you see the way Eddie watches Nancy.

Right?

But Eddie is kind and loving and he adores you in a way that feels sort of like running toward a cliff and jumping without a parachute.

You always know he’ll catch you. Don’t really know when he became that person for you. The one who you trust wholly and completely.

Yet if you think really hard about it, you’d say it started on your twenty-first birthday. After a strong drink and plenty of dancing at the bar. Steve grabbed your hand and twirled you around. Swayed and bobbed to the music and you grabbed his hand and tugged him outside. And maybe it was the little bit of alcohol you consumed and liquid courage granted by it, but you pushed him up against the side of a lamppost and kissed him.

When you think about it now, you want to cry, but in the moment it felt right.

He spluttered and gasped and you knew you’d made a mistake. Watched the way sadness creeped into his eyes, the awareness dawning on him.

Someone barked out a laugh, yourself maybe. Him. You weren’t sure. But it sounded disbelieving. Years and years of unspoken words spilled out like ink onto a blank sheet of paper. Left there to rot. And he stared — stared at you with a hurt in his eyes that ripped you down the middle. Because you knew he couldn’t return it, knew in an instant that he didn’t love you in the way that you wanted him to.

Not in the way that he loved Nancy.

Nancy. Perfect Nancy with the perfect hair and the perfect mind and the perfect life. Nancy, who was beautiful and stunning and wonderful and inspiring — and why wouldn’t someone love her? She was your friend, a good one at that, and a girl that any guy would want to be with.

Nancy, who you knew was the one meant for Steve, even if admitting that to yourself felt like a knife wedging its way into your gut.

“Honey…” he trailed and his voice broke. An aching, shattering thing that mimicked what was going on inside your chest.

Tiny, little shards. Little ruby glitter in the cavity that once housed a beating organ.

“It’s silly, right?” You laughed again. A hollow sound. A grieved cry that had Steve reaching for your forearm, trying to hold you together. “I've loved you since I was fifteen.”

“You’re drunk…”

“I’m not,” you argued. If anything, you felt stone cold sober now.

It didn’t change anything. Didn’t make it any less true. Maybe it was how Steve coped with it. Blaming it on too many drinks, emotions running high, your lives changing at a rate neither of you saw coming.

“Is everything okay out here?” Eddie stood on the sidewalk, watching from a distance, ready to step in if he needed to.

He did that often. Sought you out. Made sure you were okay. Watched your back as you watched his. There was always an awareness there that both of you held toward one another. An unspoken thing. Special still.

“Just…a moment?” Steve asked, and Eddie looked your way. Waited until you nodded it was, in fact, okay before he slipped back inside the bar and left you alone with your heartbreak. “You’re my best friend. I love you, but I —”

“Don’t love me, love me,” you finished for him.

Felt your lip wobbling, felt Steve’s arms as they wrapped around you, tugged you into a solid chest. You heaved out a loud sob, the kind that had him clutching you tighter, one hand at the back of your head to keep your forehead pressed into the hollow of his throat. Kept you hidden as you weeped, just like he knew you preferred it.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Kind of left it like there, open in the air, the understanding that you loved him and he didn’t love you, and it hurt every time you thought about it — every time you reminded yourself that you’d worn your heart on your sleeve and watched it fall to the ground.

Everyone left in separate cars. Robin with her girlfriend, Steve with Nancy, Jonathan with Argyle, leaving you to clamber on into Eddie’s car. Both of you had sobered up enough, dawning clarity breaking like the sunrise.

Eddie turned to you when you pulled up to your parent’s house. Looked at you with a sympathy that made you draw the hoodie you pulled on over your dress closer to your body, wanting to shrink away from him. Make yourself smaller, if only to hide from the emotions warring in your mind.

“Did something happen tonight?” He asked, his voice soft.

You tugged at a stray lint on your thigh, rolled it between your fingers, shrugged a bit. “I kissed Steve.”

“Shit,” he breathed out, unbuckling his seatbelt. Leaned back into his seat, finger running through his hair.

“And then I told him I loved him,” you added, head shaking as you laughed pitifully.

His head shifted on the headrest, eyes taking in your downturned lips. “I take it that didn’t go well?”

Another huff of a laugh. “He said ‘I love you, but…’”

“Fuck,” he said, hand reaching over the center console to rest on your thigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He always called you sweetheart. You noticed he called things he held dear to his heart that. His guitar, Max, El, Erica. Nancy. Robin. And most recently, you. So it shouldn’t have warmed your heart, but it did. Twisted something low in your belly, a warm, unfurling sort of thing.

The next words spilled out of you in a rush. Set into motion the course of the next several years. “Do you want to come upstairs? You’ll have to be quiet. I just…don’t want to be alone.”

“I—I…yeah?”

The offer was to talk. To find comfort in another human. Because you hadn’t even thought about sex. Hadn’t had sex in your twenty-one years. Not because you were holding onto your virginity or anything, but because you just hadn’t felt comfortable enough yet to do so. And it wasn’t like you invited him up there for that. It started out innocently enough. Him following closely behind you through your home, slipping up your stairs, fingers laced together. An anticipation hummed in your blood, a tremble of uncertainty in the way he stood there in your bedroom, not moving from the door once you closed it behind the two of you. He seemed so large in your childhood bedroom. Hair a mess on his head, in the way it always was, charmingly so. His hands slipped into his tight jeans, the gesture making his black tee stretch taut over his chest.

A dress still clung to your body after you removed your jacket. Something flowing and pretty that you picked out with Robin the week before. It suddenly felt sticky and tight on your body, and with a nervous glance, Eddie caught your hint and turned around to face the door. Tapped his fingers against his thigh as you undressed and slipped on something more comfortable. A simple pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee shirt.

“You can sit on my bed, you know?” You had sat back down against the headboard, the wood littered with endless pillows and a stuffed penguin that Steve had gotten you at a fair one summer.

In a fearful effort to rid yourself of the evidence of your stuffed friend, you lifted it in your hand and raised an arm to toss it into your closet when Eddie launched himself down onto your mattress with a thump and snatched it out of your grip.

“I don’t sleep with that, or anything…” Heat flooded your cheeks, because why did you care if he knew you actually did sleep with the silly thing, if only to keep the nightmares from the Upside Down away?

“It’s cute,” he murmured to himself, ringed fingers tight around the black and white toy. Sounded genuine and you didn’t doubt him; never did, truly. “Got a name for it?”

“Pip the Penguin,” you said quietly, so quietly.

“I like it…” Suddenly, he changed his voice, warping it into something an octave higher than his usual tone. Bopped the fluffy creature against your forehead, making you laugh. Pretended to talk with the thing and said, “Mr. Pip the Penguin wants you to turn that frown upside down. Because you’re so fucking beautiful when you smile.”

“Pip the Penguin doesn’t curse,” you admonished, plucking him from Eddie’s hands and placing him onto your bedside table. And then, softer still, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Always,” he promised, and you rolled over onto your side to look at him, to really take in your best friend’s features. “I’m sorry your birthday is shot to hell.”

“It’s not,” you admitted, reaching over to run your fingers along the rings flush against his knuckles, “I’m spending it with you.”

“For what it’s worth,” he said, holding your hand in his and pausing your movements, thumb running across your skin, “you’re great and deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that is kind of an idiot. Sorry, Harrington.”

You level him with a ‘you’re kidding me’ look.

“I’m serious,” he added, smiling a bit. “I mean, you play guitar like a beast. I don't know many girls who do that. Definitely metal. You’re fun to be around, really cool, definitely would smoke with.”

You had. Numerous times. “Eddie.”

“Maybe a little bit of a shit driver —”

“Eddie!” You shrieked a giggle, clutching his hand tighter.

“I said 'a little bit’” he teased, pushing back a hair that fell into your eyes. “Did you forget that time I had to try and shove your car out of the mud?”

“Yeah, but it was you who told me to turn onto that side road in that rain storm.”

“It was still a fun day, though.”

You sat in your car for hours, rain splattering against the window, waiting for a tow truck. The boy beside you, hair wet from the rain, his shirt clinging to his body. His chest rising and falling with the effort, the cloudy sky and the way he reminded you of sunshine even still. Remembered the way he looked at you, all soft around the edges, that little dimple in his cheek. So handsome it had made your chest ache with it — kind of like how it was then.

“It was,” you agreed softly.

Neither of you slept that night in your bedroom. Instead you talked until the sun started to rise over Hawkins, a quiet something glimmering in the spaces between the two of you. It didn’t have a name yet, no wings to give it flight, but there was something new there nonetheless. You talked about everything and nothing. Dreams, wants, fears. Silly thoughts that sprang to life in your mind, and he was a perfect listener — nodded and laughed and was wholly engaged in you, and you in him.

And you don’t think about Steve once, the ache of rejection dulling to a sweet nothingness.

“Wanna watch a movie?” It was asked after some time, when the nervousness of where you wanted the rest of your morning to go creeped in after your parents called upstairs that they were headed off to work, leaving you alone with the boy they didn’t know was in your bed.

He held you like that. On your bed, arms around your waist from behind as colors flashed across the television screen. Both of you were quiet for a long time. No words said, nothing to say really, until you rolled back over and looked up into his umber eyes. Wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though; he leaned in, nudged his nose against yours, cupped your cheek. Asked you if ‘this was okay.’ A nod, and you sank into the mattress at that first brush of his mouth over yours, at the way your heart fluttered, something sparkly and beautiful flashing behind your eyes. He held you like that, kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck. Fingers tentatively explored as you sighed and hummed against him, over the slope of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the line of your collarbone. And then, with a gentle touch, he brushed a thumb along your ribcage, beneath a breast.

Testing, asking for permission.

“I didn’t come up here to hook up,” he said, but it was muffled by your lips against his, an eagerness drowning out his words.

“I know.”

“I…do really think you’re beautiful.” You tugged at the hem of his shirt, helped him pull it up and over his head. Ran your fingers along the scars there. “Fuck, I — you’re my best friend and I —”

“I want this,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss a line across his pecs. “Do you want this?”

Could feel that he did. Could feel it against your thigh, the thick heat of him through denim, straining against his belt and zipper. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” A kiss. “Yes, Eddie.” Another kiss.

He tugged off your top. You slipped off your sweats. He ran calloused fingers along your abdomen, over the slope of your breasts, teased at sensitive flesh. Watched as your head rolled to the side and a sigh spilled from you, feelings you’d never felt settling low in your belly. You liked it, liked the intensity in how he looked at you when he lowered himself down your abdomen, kissing your skin. Liked the desire aimed wholly at you in his eyes as he eased your thong down your thighs and tossed them toward your closet. Felt a thrill at the stare locked on the place only your fingers had ever ventured before this night, like he’d discovered hidden treasure.

“Eddie?” A nervous whispered breath.

He climbed back up your body hastily, thumbed at the worry line creasing your forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’ve never…you’re my…” You swallowed as something like understanding passed over his features.

His forehead dropped against yours, deep breaths spilling from his nose, hand holding the curve of your cheek. “Are you sure? I want you to be one thousand percent sure. Your first time…it should —”

Your hand slid up over his stomach, over the rapid thrum of his heart. “Yes, Eddie. One hundred thousand percent sure.”

He leaned over you with a laugh to turn Pip the Penguin around, facing the lamp. “Can’t have him seeing this. Feels like someone is watching.”

And you laughed, just like you always did with him. Just as you did when he slipped out of his boxers and nearly tripped getting out of them, tumbling forward onto your bed, just as you did when he crawled back up your body and blew a raspberry into your neck to ease the worried lines between your brow when you finally saw him bare for the first time. Something so foreign and yet exhilarating to you. Watching his nervous hands, the way he hovered over your body, the gravity of the moment finally hitting you. He readied you with gentle fingers, with a sort of pleasure that you’d only previously known by your own hand, and yet felt so differently when it was someone else’s inside of you.

Later, as you gasped and shook within his arms in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you watched him roll on a condom with blissful, hazy eyes. Clasped your hand in his as he pressed it down into your pillow, not without kissing the back of it first.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” he asked, and you felt him there, pushing in just the slightest bit, face pinched in concentration.

Eyes widened at the feeling, so foreign and yet not wholly unpleasant.

Just…different.

“Is this okay?” He pulled out a little, pushed in. Pulled out, pushed in a little further each time.

And then, when he reached the point where it seemed your body wouldn’t allow him to go any further, you gasped and Eddie’s hips stilled immediately.

“Shit,” he breathed, dropping onto his elbows, searching your face worriedly, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head. “No, no…you can keep going. Just go s-slow.”

His fingers rubbed along your cheek. “Gotta relax, sweetheart.” You tried to do exactly that. Smiled to yourself as he distracted you with kisses along your jaw, fingers gripping into your hips, little circles along your thigh curled around his hip.

“Can you just, like…” You chewed on your bottom lip, the burning growing sharper with each slow movement of him within you. “Push all the way in.”

“It’ll hurt,” he said, wincing at the thought of hurting you.

“Only for a second. Please,” you leaned up to kiss him soundly, nuzzling his nose as you added, “I want to feel all of you, Eddie.”

As he warned…it hurt, a fullness you’d never felt before. Stole your breath. He wiped your tears away, whispering ‘sorry’ after sorry into your kiss-bitten lips. There was a brief moment where you jokingly teased that you worried if he’d actually fit, even voiced it to him as he shook with laughter into your neck at what he took as a compliment. Because laughter seemed to be a theme between the two of you. You giggled with him, breath hitching when your muscles loosened and he sank in all the way, your body connected with his in an unfamiliar and yet wonderful all at the same time.

That first time was awkward, giggly, and yet perfect all the same. Your bodies coming together in an unhurried rhythm that maybe ended too soon because he spluttered out that you felt too good — a pretty praise that had you preening, and then pleading when he rolled his hips in a way that had you seeing stars, cresting a wave, the crash of your second orgasm stealing your breath away.

Now, it’s a little different.

In your apartment, your back against your new kitchen cabinets, your boy expertly licking at you like he might die if he doesn’t watch you crumble for the third time that afternoon.

First, when Steve and Robin finally left for the afternoon and he had you up against the door, your cheek against the frame, his name a mantra on your lips, his forehead at the back of your head as he filled you deliciously from behind. The second time, you barely made it onto your new bed — frame still on backorder — before he had you on your back, with you scoring marks down his shoulders. Knowing how to draw out your pleasure, to ramp it up – knowing your body in a way no one else ever has.

So different from the people you were a year ago, and yet still trying to pretend that the ties between you don’t grow more confusing with each and every passing day.

——

You’re twenty two and Steve has some news for you. And it’s never the kind of news one wants to hear from the man they’ve been in love with for nearly ten years.

“I’m going to ask Nance to marry me.”

“That’s great!” You blurt it out. You don’t even know why, because it’s a lie, just like the countless other things you have said to save face in front of him. “Really — Steve, that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you. How do you think you’ll go about asking her?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Turns out, it’s happening at Enzo’s the next week. Surrounded by all your best friends. Eddie sits at your right, watching as Steve gets down on one knee. As Nancy cries softly and accepts — as Steve slides a ring up onto her knuckle, thumb brushing against the back of her sparkling solitaire diamond.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt quite like you thought it might. There’s an ache, sure. A feeling of loss that you always feel when it comes to Steve. Though when you turn your head and look at Eddie, and he squeezes your hand in his, there’s peace there.

That’s a newer development. Just as him staying over for days on end is, leaving things of his in your drawers, using your shower. You’re best friends who sleep together and spend all their extra time together, and yet there’s this limbo of where you are and if this is ever going anywhere that neither of you seems keen on opening up to talk about.

Steve finds you later that night, standing outside overlooking the restaurant’s garden. A freshly filled champagne flute rests in your hand. Eddie is inside with Robin, Nancy and the rest of your friends, laughing at the bar where you left them. But out here the world seems quieter. The stars twinkle brighter. Hawkins seems to rest, even though there’s a disquiet in your mind.

“That was a beautiful proposal,” you tell him, turning to rest your back against the railing. He joins you there, elbow leaning onto the metal, his own glass filled with an amber liquid shifting as he moves to get comfortable. “Really. I’m so proud of you guys. You deserve all the happiness in the world after all the hell we’ve been through as a group.”

“You’re in the wedding party, you know?” he chuckles, and you never doubted it. “You and Robin kind of both have to share the title of ‘best man.’”

“As long as we have matching outfits, I’m in,” you giggle airily, head tilting back to look up at the sky.

“You’re in your head a bit,” Steve says, like he knows, because he does.

He knows everything about you.

Except for one thing.

“I’m okay,” you lie, taking a sip of your drink, “just been a long night. We’re getting older, you know? I can’t party like we used to.”

He narrows his eyes, because you’re twenty two and full of shit.

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact you and Eddie are seeing each other?”

“We’re not.”

Not a lie. ‘Seeing’ would imply that your relationship is going somewhere. What you and Eddie have been doing…what you are doing…it has no beginning and no end, but there’s an awareness that at any point either of you might meet someone else and move on.

Lately that thought hurts. Not sure what to do with that.

“Okay…having sex then.”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” You grimace. “It’s weird coming from you.”

“Oh, like we haven't discussed my sex life in thorough detail –”

“Yeah, and I can tell you, as someone who has lived through it, that wasn’t fun either.”

He continues, ignoring you, “Gotta say, kind of feels shitty that you didn’t tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to ‘tell,’” you say, shifting to look at him. “We hooked up…and then kept hooking up. We hook up, it’s what we do. It’s all we do, actually. I mean, not all we do. We have to breathe and eat sometimes, and we are also friends –”

“Friends who f –”

“Steve Harrington, enough out of you, you child.” There’s a bite to your tone, but no bark. He smirks at you, a cheeky, proud-looking thing that would have made you mourn years ago, but makes you feel a little smug now. Maybe time truly does heal wounds. “How do you even know?”

“When Nancy and I were over at your place last weekend, we realized I forgot my jacket and I, uh, heard you guys.”

Horror seeps into your blood. You wish the ground would open up right now. Swallow you whole. Wish a black hole would suck you up, never to be seen again. “I could have been doing a workout video.”

He grins, and you contemplate shoving him over the railing, but Hopper’s inside and you don’t really feel like facing jail time for murdering your best friend on what should be the happiest day of his life. “Do you always moan Eddie’s name during your workouts?”

Cheeks burning, you splutter, “Maybe I do.”

“So how long has this been going on?” Steve asks, choosing to once again ignore your attempts at redirecting the conversation.

“My twenty-first birthday. We went back to my place,” you tell him, quickly amending, “technically it was the next day. We…talked the whole night. It felt right.”

It was the perfect first time, you decided long ago now. And then that second time, after you’d both passed out, and you climbed on top of him, asking him to show you what he liked, before you ended up skipping your college classes in favor of spending the whole day exploring each other’s bodies.

“That was a…shit day,” he says, and it sounds sad. You never talk about that day. After you told him you loved him, it was almost like both of you had an unspoken agreement in place to just never breathe life into it again. Hearing him acknowledge it now…you don’t really know how you feel about it. “I’m sorry for that, again. I just –”

“It’s in the past,” you reassure him, offering a smile. “We can’t help who we fall in love with.” You know that now.

“So he met Pip the Penguin?”

You shove him. “Yes, he did. And we’ve sort of been – doing this ever since.”

“You love him,” Steve says, like it’s not even a question. At your arched brows, he repeats, “You love him.”

It’s a silly notion, you want to tell him earnestly. Though the more you think on it, the more you can see his words have some merit. For years Steve’s been the object of your affection, and suddenly his relationship with Nancy hurts less, you can be around him without feeling like there’s a raw, bleeding wound in your chest. You always accredited it to getting used to knowing this isn’t something that’s going to change. Yet as you picture Eddie's face in your mind, a coy smile tugs at your lips.

Steve grins. “See?”

“How do you know?” Disbelief imbues your words. It can’t be this simple, can it? To simplify the feelings with the word ‘love.’ An emotion that seems so big and so scary.

“I know what you look like when you’re in love,” he says, mouth tugging southward a bit over how he knows. He makes his way over to the door leading inside, needing to get back to his party. His eyes are soft. “It doesn’t take a scientist to define the way you look at him.”

He leaves you with your thoughts.

You nearly crumble with the weight of them.

——

Eddie’s not himself. You spend the day with Steve and Nancy, working on wedding planning. At one point, the guys end up stumbling into the bridal boutique where Nancy’s standing on a pedestal in a beautiful gown, her veil a billowing sprawl of lace behind her. She’s gorgeous, not that you ever doubted she would make a beautiful bride.

Later that night, Eddie fucks you like he’s trying to forget. Fingers curled tight around your wrists, no words of affection pouring from him, not like they usually do. He’s quiet and when he spills into you, you roll over onto your side and cry.

He tries to console you. A hand splays over your bicep, his mouth at your shoulder. He hadn’t even bothered to undress you tenderly like he usually does. It had been frantic and hurried and it feels like you’re an exposed nerve now, the pain throbbing in your chest.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s another new thing. A nickname for when you’re alone. A term of endearment you wish he would just take back now.

“I feel like you weren’t even here just now. Toward the end,” you whimper, rolling over, lip wobbling.

“No no no,” he coos, kissing along your brow, trying to soak up the blood seeping from your invisible wounds, “hey — hey, baby, I —”

“You were trying to forget.” You tug your blankets up around your shoulders, covering yourself.

“It was a hard day —”

“But I’m right here!” you cry out, launching yourself out of the bed, eyes burning as you whirl on him. “I’m right here. I’ve been here. We’re…this isn’t right, Eddie. It hasn’t been for a long time. Can’t you see that? You just fucked me because you saw Nancy in a wedding dress.”

“That’s not —”

“I think we need to stop this.” His mouth settles into a firm line, eyes rounding as the words slam down on him like a ton of bricks. “Put a pin in it. Call it. Give it a time of death. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s changed for me. It’s not ‘just sex’ anymore.”

“It’s never been ‘just sex’ with us,” he argues.

Eddie climbs out of bed. Tugs on his boxers, tries to console you with soothing hands on your arms. Resolute in your decision, you take a step back, head shaking a bit.

“I’m…” A pause.

After your conversation with Steve some months ago now, you really took the time to think about his words. The realization you’ve fallen in love with Eddie slowly over time. The man who weaved his way into your life so seamlessly on a day you needed him the most.

Eddie, who snores beside you in bed most nights and wakes you with endless kisses along your cheeks, because he wants you to smile first thing every morning. Eddie, who always forgets to separate his lights from his darks every time he does his laundry, so you started doing yours together. Eddie, who you spend every Friday night on your couch with, a pizza and a joint between you, punctuated by soft kisses and endless cuddling as you watch your favorite movies together. He’s become a staple in everyday life; a constant, a rock, an anchor.

You can’t quite pinpoint when it happened. When friendship changed into something more, but it had, and you couldn’t stop the free fall once you were on the edge of the cliff.

This love is also painful too. It’s knowing for a long time the two of you used sex as a way to run from your problems. Had relied on one another to find solace. It’s realizing that, though you want nothing more than to curl your arms around his waist and hold him for the rest of the night, that’s actually the last thing either of you need right now.

“I think you should stay at your apartment tonight,” you tell him, your voice a little hollow. Cold. Eyes downcast. “I think we need some time to cool off, and I think we need to do it separately.”

Eddie swallows thickly. His voice breaks as he chokes out, “Yeah…okay.”

“I love you,” you tell him, stare him straight in the eye as you do so. His breath shudders out of him. “And I think you love me too, but I don’t want you to say it back. I want you to say it when you can fully mean it. But I can’t do this…half version of love I’m getting now. I want the full thing, we both deserve the full thing.”

He tips your chin up. Kisses you. The first tears spill from your eyes, and when you open your eyes, there are tears in his eyes too.

“Fuck,” he rasps, folding his arms around your waist, holding you close as you both break.

Never really together, and yet it’s the worst break up. It cleaves you right down the middle. Leaves you in two pieces, where one belongs to Eddie and you don’t know that you’ll ever get it back. The man wound so deeply in your veins now he’ll likely remain there forever.

You want him to be — just not now.

Not in this capacity, not like this.

You want that earth shattering, ground shaking, immeasurable kind of love. The kind that extends beyond stars and space. Love that transcends time and follows you even in death at the end of it all.

You’d rather have all of Eddie instead of this, even if it means losing him for now.

There’s that saying, albeit cliche, that if something is meant for you, you need to let it go. If it comes back, it was always yours.

In actuality it’s scary — letting him go.

But you trust it’s the right thing. Trust that it’s the best thing for the health of what’s already here, even when every atom and cell in your body wants to fight against what it innately knows is best for it.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak. Thinks better of the words he’s going to say. Instead kisses you on the forehead three times.

I. Love. You.

“I’ll —” He stumbles over the words. Know that he means to say ‘I’ll see you soon,’ but neither of you knows if that’s true.

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes you simply need to lean up on your toes and kiss him for what might very well be the last time. Tears spill down your cheeks and his. Little fractures. Glittering reminders of beautiful memories made in the time spent together.

He packs a bag and hikes his things over his shoulder. Exits the door you’ve watched him walk in so many times that the thought of never seeing him pass through again makes you want to shatter all over again.

And when he blows you a final kiss on the way out, you do.

——

“So you…ended things?”

Steve tries to understand, your head in his lap, heart in your throat as you bleed love all over your living room floor. It hasn’t stopped since Eddie left. Since you picked up the phone and dialed a number you’d never forget and sobbed out a broken, “Steve.”

There are no words needed to be said. In the background you hear the rustle of keys, and then he’s at your doorstep fifteen minutes later, ready with his arms open for you to fall into. And now you’re here.

He lets you cry. He lets you sob against the pillow on his lap until your eyes are puffy and you’re reduced to hiccuped breaths. Doesn’t judge you for it, offers comfort, understands. He lost Nancy for a while, too. Gets it.

“Staying together in the way we are now isn’t healthy,” you tell him, woodenly, “it’d kill us. I love him, and I know he loves me, but this is what we need right now. Time and space and — and I already miss him so much and it hurts, Steve.”

“Kind of like a limb torn off, right?”

“Maybe not that dramatic?”

“Heart ripped out then?” he amends, huffing a laugh.

“Yeah,” you sob, “that.”

“Hey?” He whispers, and you lift yourself up to look at him. Crumple all over again as he coos, “Honey,” pulling you into his arms. “I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but it’s going to get better, okay?”

“Promise?”

He drops a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise.”

Everything feels like it’s ending. But one day turns into two, and then two into three. Suddenly it’s a week, and then a month, and without him, the earth turns. The leaves change. The sun rises and falls every day. The ground withers as winter comes and passes, and the flowers bloom in spring. Without him, children still giggle in the park as you rush along on a run. You meet up with friends, deflect advances from men and women at bars — tell them you’re taken, don’t know why — try to live. Try to heal because it’s what you promised Eddie you would do.

Life continues, you miss Eddie because you’ll always miss him, but you don’t see him.

For seven months.

Nancy and Steve make it happen. Coordinate your schedules in a way that allows you both the time you need.

The night before the wedding, after the wedding rehearsal dinner, you invite everyone back to your family’s lake house. You took it for the weekend, just to have some time away after what you’re sure is to be a busy weekend. Wanted to catch up on some reading, wake up to the familiar sounds of birds chirping and the water gurgling.

Eddie stares at you from across the living room, beer in his hand. Watches you like one would watch a show and it has your heart twirling, stomach churning, fingers twitching around the stem of your wine glass.

It’s fleeting. A brief moment before Nancy asks Eddie to help her with something in the other room, and he rushes after her. Robin leans back against the pillows she’s piled up against the couch, her girlfriend, Vickie, beside her, both eying you curiously, “What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” you mutter absently, sipping at your champagne.

“They used to hook up,” Steve explains, shrugging. “But then they fooled around and fell in love. Just like the song. You know how it goes, ‘fooled around and fell in loveeee.’”

“Steve!”

“What? You were going to tell her in a second. I could see it on your face.”

You blanch. “I mean, yes. But you didn’t have to just spill it out there for the whole world to hear.” You swallow. “Yes, we…were together for a bit but then I ended things. It's been over seven months now.”

“Wow,” Robin breathes out, throwing back the rest of her drink, “so, uh, the smoldering looks Eddie is throwing your way?”

“They’re not smoldering looks,” you argue, cheeks burning, “and if there are, it’s probably just because this is the first time we’ve seen each other in months.”

“Can’t believe none of you assholes told me about this,” Robin huffs out, head shaking. “Does Nancy know?”

“Eddie is her best friend,” Steve says flatly.

“So yes,” Robin concedes. “You’re going to give me grays.”

“You’re only twenty three,” you remind her, and Vickie pins you with a ‘just let her be dramatic’ sort of look.

“I’m just — my best friend was in love with my other best friend. And now the same best friend is sleeping with my other best friend. And those best friends are now acting like a bunch of idiots because they can’t get their shit together and just fall in love and I’m supposed to act like this is all normal?! Just casual, typical Friday night conversation before my other best friend’s wedding to my other best friend —”

“That was…not at all confusing. Nope,” Steve mumbles. Vickie smacks his arm, because there’s a shuffle by the door and Nancy and Eddie appear once more, another log for the crackling fire perched in Eddie’s elbow.

The chatter in the room dissolves after that, as Steve and Nancy make their way upstairs to the room they’re taking for the night. Robin and Vickie have the guest room, leaving you with a decision to make, stopping back into the living room after everyone says goodnight to find Eddie sitting there, watching the fire.

“So…we have one bed free,” you begin.

“It’s yours.”

“You’re a guest,” you remind him, stepping further into the room.

He doesn’t look your way, but you can see orange flames dancing in the reflection of his beautifully dark eyes.

“I want you to have it,” he says, finally turning to face you. Breath hitches in the back of your throat, your body’s normal response when he’s near, clearly not dulled with the passing of time.

“Okay.” You give a curt nod. “Here, let me grab you a blanket.”

He’s quiet. So unlike the man you spent over a year with. Regards you carefully as you move about the room, ducking down to grab a blanket from a basket near the fireplace. Your hand outstretches to pass the blanket to him, his fingers touching yours. It’s a lingering sort of thing. His fingers warm against yours, the barest of brushes of his knuckles across your skin. Electricity dances in your veins.

Then it’s over as quickly as it comes, the blanket thrown over his thighs, his eyes on your face.

“Sorry I missed your birthday," he says.

It was the worst birthday you had in years.

A laugh. “Sorry I missed yours.”

You heard all about it from Steve, but couldn’t bring yourself to go at the time.

He swallows, throat bobs with effort. “You didn’t bring a date for the wedding?”

No, and you hadn’t dated anyone since him either. Tried and failed here and there, blind dates friends set up, but they never went anywhere.

“Neither did you,” you state, as a matter of factly.

Unless she’s hiding somewhere else, and you feel your heart kick anxiously up at the notion.

“Just me,” he says, exhaling deeply.

You thank the heavens, or whoever will listen, for this tiny blessing.

He smiles, and it’s that favorite smile of his. The one where his dimples pop and his face brightens. The one reserved for those many nights you spent inside with him, laughing until the early hours of the morning, both needing to go to work the next day, yet neither finding it in yourselves to care.

“Look at us.”

“Yeah.” Your hand rubs up and down your arm, feet shifting awkwardly beneath you.

“You look…” His eyes trail over your features with a familiar fondness within those dark depths. “You look really good. Happy.”

“I am good…and happy,” you tell him, nodding. “You…you look good, too. I should, uh, head up for bed.”

His head dips, and then dips again rapidly. “Right.” Clears his throat. “Yeah – ah, early morning tomorrow.”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p.’

There’s a pause in the conversation. A moment where neither of you moves. You know you don’t want to. Want to remain right here. You also know better. There were words said months ago, words with intention behind them. The need for both of you to get better, to get to a place where you’re ready for whatever this thing is between the two of you.

You’re ready, have been for a while now, but Eddie…

As you finally start to trek backwards, maintaining eye contact with the man who still holds your heart, he whispers, “I’m glad you didn’t bring a date.”

“Me too, Eddie,” you admit quietly, biting at your bottom lip. “Maybe it’s selfish, but…me too.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He’s beautiful like this. Dark eyes on yours, hair a wavy mess around his shoulders, strands loose from his ponytail. Soft, in a way that makes you want to climb onto the sofa beside him and let him hold you, erasing all the memories lost. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Breathless, you feel completely and utterly breathless under this spell. “Goodnight, Ed. See you in the morning.”

And you’re gone. Slipping up the stairs to your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and placing a hand over the organ clanging away behind your ribcage. With an exhale, you rush into the bathroom and flick the light on. Your features illuminate in the mirror. Eyes wide, chest heaving, looking a little out of sorts. Your cheeks burn with the whisper of his touch, mind whirling at the meaning behind his glances, the timbre of his words.

Steve might be the first person you loved.

Your first kiss.

But Eddie is the first person you can say without a doubt in your mind you are in love with.

Even now, with seven months of time between you – and you don’t think anything will change that.

——

The wedding ceremony is a beautiful thing. Flowing, floral archway. A church that looks like something out of a postcard. Little mosaic windows, a gorgeous sprawling ceiling with high beams. Everyone they love is here. Family and friends made along the way. The kids, with their beaming smiles and not so childlike faces any longer.

Steve and Nancy recite their vows to one another, the words sounding muffled in your ears, because for the first time in your life the boy you’ve been looking at is finally looking right back at you.

Eddie, in a black suit, smiling over at you. Hands folded in front of himself as Steve and Nancy declare their everlasting love in a room filled with their loved ones. The feeling of his hand on your arm as he walked you down the aisle like a brand that lingers on your skin. Can feel it even now, the way his fingers would feel should they grace your cheek. Had leaned into that caress so many times, seeking the comfort of him.

You don’t even know why, but you smile back, thinking of one of your favorite days with him before everything had gone to hell.

You wanted, very badly actually, to hook up that night. He’d brought a backpack with him, intended to stay for the weekend. But when he walked into your apartment, a spare key on his keyring, he found you holed up on the couch, grumbling about how your weekend plans were ruined.

“They’re not ruined,” Eddie chuckled, dropping down onto the couch beside you. “You act like I’m this insatiable man.”

“You can be –”

“Hi pot, meet kettle.” You glared half heartedly. “Plus you’re a very active participant, and you benefit from it in the form of plentiful orgasms, so quit your yapping,” he teased, catching a little wince, the furrow between your brows. “No dice? What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Period cramps,” you grumbled out, pulling your blanket up higher on your form. “You don’t have to stay. I’m not going to be much company like this.”

“One, I always like hanging out with you. You’re my best friend, you dork.” He flicked your nose, grinning when you wrinkled it in response. “Two, let me run to the supermarket real quick, okay?”

“Why?” Your head tilted to the side.

“Going to grab us some food so I can cook dinner,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “and some things for my girl. Gotta take care of her, right?”

His girl. His girl. He’d never said that before, and something about it felt perfectly wonderful and also a little bit like a lie. You wanted it to be true, though. Realized you hadn’t wanted something so fiercely like that in a long, long time. Didn’t know what to do with those emotions, so you dropped back down onto your mountain of pillows and watched as Eddie quickly slipped out of your apartment in a flurry of black leather and curly hair, and slammed the door behind him.

He returned a half hour later with a bag of treats. Your favorite chips, candy, some popcorn. He got started on spaghetti and requested you pick out a movie. Oddly domestic for two people who usually spent most nights tangled in bedsheets.

Later, after your belly was full and the movie was playing on the television screen, Eddie tugged you against his chest and dragged a hand along your lower back, thumb pushing with perfect pressure at the base of your spine to alleviate some of the ache there.

“Is this good?” he asked, voice quiet.

“Perfect, honestly,” you hummed, head nuzzling further into his chest.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, don’t know who fell asleep first, but when you woke up it was to Eddie’s body curled around yours, his arms slung around your abdomen.

Wanting to do something special for him, you quietly extricated yourself out from within the tangle of his arms. Flicked on your kitchen light and started throwing some things together for pancakes. Your oversized tee shirt fluttered against your thighs as you worked, bare legs covered only up to the knee by your crew socks. At some point as you hummed along to the softly playing radio, Eddie appeared behind you, arms around your waist, his chest at your spine.

“Morning,” he muttered, pressing a loud kiss to your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay now,” you said, leaning your head over your shoulder to look at him. He trailed the backs of his fingers across the highest point of your cheek. Kissed you slowly, softly, sweetly. “Hmm. What was that for?”

“Didn’t get one yesterday.”

And it shouldn’t have made your heart stutter. It shouldn’t have made a liquid heat pool in your belly. Because the arrangement had always been the two of you being best friends who sought shelter in each other.

You kissed him again. “Better?”

He grinned, twirling you in his arms, hand catching yours. “Nope,” he chuckled, drawing you in closer as ‘My Girl’ spilled out of the radio speaker, “but if you dance with me I might be able to forgive you.”

In the morning light you did just that. He whirled you around and brought you back into the circle of his arms. Looped an arm around your waist to hold you close, your face against the curve of his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head as he gently hummed along. ‘Well I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin’ about my girl, my girl.’

Eventually the pancakes burned, the room filled with smoke, and the fire alarm went off. You laughed about it, fell to the ground in a fit of giggles, your thighs over his lap as you both foregone breakfast in favor of eating ice cream out of a carton.

It felt normal. A little too normal.

Now you only look over to him fondly as Steve and Nancy’s vows draw to a close. Wish, as they walk back out the double doors at the end of the aisle once they’re officially husband and wife, for more stolen moments like that.

——

“Hey,” Steve’s voice calls from the end of the hallway, just as you slip out of the powder room. “I’ve been looking for you. They're doing the couple’s dance next.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “I think you forget I’m single these days.” You pause, rushing over to grab at his tie, askew around his neck. Nimble fingers reach up to grasp at it, working the fabric back into proper place. “You go on ahead. It’s your special day.”

“I promised a friend I’d get you onto the dance floor for one dance,” he says, curling a hand around the back of your wrist. With a frown, he adds, “Just one dance, please? He gets all dramatic and pouty when he doesn’t get his way.”

“Go figure, so do you!” He narrows his eyes as you add, “no wonder you’re best friends.”

“I’m choosing to ignore you,” he says, suddenly — albeit dramatically — glum.

“Today is your wedding day,” you remind him, sliding your palm down to wrap around his hand, “you shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Yeah, but remember when I decided you were my best friend at ten years old? I said I’d protect and love you forever —”

“We were kids,” you laugh, shaking your head, “we said a lot of things we knew nothing about.”

“Hey.” His hand frees itself from yours, only for both to rest on either side of your cheeks. Tears, unbidden, start to burn on your lower lash line, threatening to spill out. “You are my best friend. And I want you to be happy. It’s been seven months. Hear him out, see what he has to say, and don’t let this day pass by without at least giving things a chance.”

“Why, Steve?”

“Because I married my person today,” he says, brushing away a tear as it glides down your cheek, “and I think he could be yours. Look at me, okay? Look at you — too pretty to be crying right now. I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

Would love him forever. That kind of friendship never fades, never dwindles, never dies.

A different type of love than the one you once loved him with, because that spot was always meant for Eddie, even if you hadn’t always known it.

“One dance?”

“One dance,” you agree, curling your arm through the loop of his elbow he leaves open for you to take.

The reception hall is glowing in a pale blue. All around couples start to litter the dance floor. Bodies close together, heads bent low, hushes of whispers between partners shared only for their ears. Steve halts you as you step out into the crowd, and it’s then that the world seems to stop. There, at the edge of the floor, stands Eddie with his hands in his pockets. His tie is a little loose around his throat, the top button of his shirt open, revealing a hint of the tattoos he got to help cover some of the scarring there. And then you catch the tilt of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, the way he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the room.

“Go…” Steve gives you a little nudge and joins his new wife.

On shaky legs, you start to walk. One foot after another, after another. One two, one two. You count each footfall, and can feel the thump-thump of your heart, as every step brings you closer to him. Finally, the tips of your heeled shoes meet his leather ones.

Your head lifts, eyes catching him in the dim lighting. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he says back, unsure of where to put his hands, one raising to touch your shoulder before he thinks better of it.

“I’ve been told I owe you a dance,” you say, fighting back the silly smile that threatens to grow on your lips.

“Got worried,” he confesses, a tentative hand curling around your back, pressing against the middle to pull you in close.

Your body brushes him, and it feels like coming home after a long day. It feels like your whole soul exhales. Feels right. “Why?”

“Thought you might stand me up,” he chuckles, your head resting against his shoulder, “and then I’d look like the only idiot alone on the dance floor.”

“Look, Eddie, I —” you say, just as he says, “I missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”

There it is. The wonder, the questions you’ve yet to ask, uncovered in one sentence. The confirmation that everything you’ve been feeling, every longing moment, has been mutual.

“That day in your kitchen,” he says, quiet enough only you can hear, “when we danced like this was that first moment for me.”

“What moment?” You blink up at him nervously.

“When I realized how completely and utterly fucked I was because I lo — liked you more than I ever realized,” he admits, a little sheepishly, “although pretty sure it was before that. Look — when we broke up —”

“Eddie,” you interrupt, heart hammering away wildly like little hummingbird wings, “I don’t think a wedding is the best place to discuss this. And I want to discuss it, don’t get me wrong, I just think we should…keep things normal for our friends. It’s their day.”

“It’s been seven months,” he reminds you.

As if you could ever forget, as if there isn’t an ‘Eddie’ shaped indent forever etched into your comforter that you’ve stared at for every day since he walked out your door.

“And I’ve thought about you every single day for each of them,” he says, and it nearly breaks you all over again when you catch the longing in his voice.

“I know,” you say, a little hoarsely, “I have too.”

His lip twitches at that, hopefulness replacing the forlorn look on his beautiful face. Everything in you screams to lean up and kiss him, to put to rest the disquiet in your soul, but you refrain. Focus solely instead on the emcee as he announces the bouquet toss.

“Guess that’s my cue,” you tell him, shrugging softly. “You’ll call me? Tonight?”

Eddie grimaces. Nods. “Sure. Yeah.”

Walking backwards, you flash him a wave, trying to not inwardly wince at your last words to the man. ‘You’ll call me?’ There’s little time to linger, as girls gather around on the dance floor and Nancy turns away from the crowd, her back to your group. Steve looks on at Eddie’s side, the two laughing jovially as Nancy launches the bouquet over her head and into the sea of women.

It happens in slow motion. You think it does, at least. An elbow digs into your ribs here, a knee bumps yours there, a shoulder bashes yours, and, without even realizing it, the flowers thump into your chest. Robin’s shaking your shoulder, laughing in your ear as Nancy rushes over to wrap you in a hug. Steve’s grinning and elbowing Eddie, who is turning a shade of red you’re pretty sure a tomato would envy.

It’s just a silly tradition, you think.

Doesn’t mean anything. So you grab onto Nancy and Robin, pull them back onto the dance floor, and pretend you don’t wish deep down it did.

——

Your keys drop into a bowl near the coat rack. Your jacket is pushed up onto a hook, still wet from the rain that’s starting to fall over Hawkins. Feet aching, you kick those off at the doorway, breathing a deep breath at the instantaneous relief. With a sigh, you slip into the kitchen and hit the light switch, as well as the back light, and suddenly the wide open windows to the sliding door leading to the lake are illuminated. Your eyes trail over the water rippling in the distance. The moon is a perfect circle in the sky, the twinkly lights your parents had wrapped around an umbrella outside like little fireflies in the night, even on a dreary evening.

Another sigh and you slip over to the counter, grabbing a bottle opener. An unopened red wine bottle sits idly on the counter, and you snatch a glass from a cabinet above, pouring a generous cup.

You’ve barely enough time to take in that first decadent sip when the doorbell rings, filling the home. Eyes flick to the clock against the wall, read that it’s nearly eleven now. Maybe the neighbor’s dog got free again? Wouldn’t be the first time.

Another ring.

“One second!” you shout into the open air, placing your glass down on the counter to rush down the hall.

Through the peephole you see him. Hair stuck to his forehead and slicked to his leather jacket. His shirt is nearly seethrough. Droplets of water cascade down the tense lines of his face, his forehead.

“Eddie?” you ask as you tug the door open, head cocked to the side. “What are y —”

“I’ll call?” He sounds pitiful. A hoarse sound tugged from deep within his chest, like his words have been raked over glass.

You…there are no words. “Yeah, Eddie. It’s when a person picks up the phone, dials a number, and the other person answers. Generally they carry on a conversation after, if we are getting technical here.”

He shakes his head and water flicks from the ends of his wet strands of hair with the movement. “Since when are we the kind of people who do that? We’re the kind of people who just barge right into places. I show up at your place, you show up at mine. We eat each other’s food, share everything. Hell, I had a key to your apartment. I’d stop on my way back from the shop to shower because you always lived closer to there than my apartment. Gotta say, I miss that. And fuck — I miss you, sweetheart.”

He’s shivering now as you ask, “What are you doing, Eddie?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh, looking to the sky, exasperated. “Standing here in the pouring rain trying to tell the girl that I love…that I’m in love with her and that I want to be with her. For real this time.” He pauses, arms curling around himself. “And I’m, like, really cold right now and I wanted to have this conversation inside but here I am, trying to make a grand gesture.”

“I thought you weren’t a grand gesture guy.” You’re joking, but there are tears burning in your eyes at his words.

“I’m a grand gesture kind of guy for you. Only you.” His teeth chatter, “Fuck, sweetheart —”

“Oh,” you jolt, tugging the door open wider, “come in. I’m so sorry.”

It’s instant. As soon as the door shuts behind him, and he’s standing there sopping wet on your rug, his hands find your face and draw your mouth to his, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

A kiss that starts off tentatively. Light. Teasing. Gentle brushes of skin passing over yours. Relearning each other, as if you’d ever forget him. As if you’d ever forget the mintiness on his tongue, the smokiness in his kiss. As if you’d forget the way he always loops an arm around your lower back to tug you in closer, bringing you flush against him, wanting to always be near.

But it’s not enough, you decide, as you work at the buttons on his shirt. Each one pops out slowly, fingers tripping over themselves, a puddle already forming on the ground beneath you. Once he’s free, you tug his undershirt out from his dark pants, fingers roaming over the soft of his stomach, the line of hair disappearing beneath his pants that has him circling your wrists with his fingers to pause you in your ministrations.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear, brushing featherlight kiss after featherlight kiss to your throat. “I want to take my time with you.”

“You love me?” you ask him, humming into his mouth as he walks you backward into the living room, barely making it to the couch before you’re clambering up onto his lap, dress riding up on your thighs.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your other cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I love you,” and finally, your lips.

Your face crumples with his words, tears stinging your eyes. His thumbs come up to brush at the ones that slip down your cheeks, voice a coo when he says, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m happy,” you whimper out, “I missed you. Every day, I missed you.”

“You’re stuck with me now,” he chuckles, and you laugh along with him, liking the way that sounds, “I’m moving my things back into your dresser as we speak.”

“Promise?”

He sobers then. Lips turning downward, the wrinkle on his forehead more pronounced, his hands curling around yours and giving a squeeze. “I’m sorry. For that last day. I…my head was all over the place at the time. I was trying to figure out how I felt about you and clearly had some feelings still that I needed to work through with Nancy. But you — you didn’t deserve that.”

When you shake your head, he continues, “It hadn’t been ‘just sex’ for me for a long time. I mean, I made up excuses to see you whenever I could. Maybe I didn’t realize what was going on, but I just wanted to be around you all the time. And when I wasn’t able to see you and just…be with you…it wasn’t easy. But I know it’s what we needed and I’m ready now. I just want us, for real this time. I want to hang out at your apartment, do all that stupid couple shit that I can only see myself doing with you. I want you to yell at me when I leave the damn toilet seat up. I want to brush my teeth with you before bed and hold you every night. I want to do this with you, be with you in the way we should have been all along, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes,” you kiss him, long and lingering, breathing him in as he does the same. “I want it all with you, Eddie. I love you…I love you so much.”

“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying that,” he says, staring up at you wondrously.

“I’ll remind you everyday, don’t worry,” you tell him with a giggle, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders, along the curve of his jaw. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Eddie makes love to you for the first time that night.

A slow, gentle thing.

His body crowds over yours, hands map out every line of your body, memorizing every detail he’s gone without for months. Kisses along every inch of you he can, whispering praises into your skin. When he pushes inside for that first time, your breath rushes out of you in a strained gasp as your body readjusts to seven months without him, mouth dropping open with a whine when he bottoms out.

It’s slow. His hips rolling against yours, body cradling you close, thumb finding your clit to bring you up and over the edge, trembling beneath him with a cry of his name.

That first time feels like a sorry.

The second, he pulls you into the shower, washing every inch of your body. The remnants of the wedding and him still on your skin. He’s sweet, all soft, fluttery kisses against your lips and shoulders, your spine, your thighs when he gets down onto his knees to glide the washcloth along them.

His mouth finds you in the shower, your head rolling back against tile, fingers tangling in his hair as he props a thigh over his shoulder to keep you open for him.

When you finish, you pull him back up to your lips, smothering his own moan with a kiss as you cup him in hand and help to guide him into you.

That time feels like a promise. The steady rhythm of his hips, the fierceness of his love, the strength of his arms as he holds you, his eyes locked on yours as you both bask in the euphoria of closeness.

The third happens somewhere around the time the sun begins to rise again over Hawkins, the rainstorm from the night before a wispy memory. Thighs slot over Eddie’s hips, his hands sliding up and over your breasts, teasing as you roll over him, the drag of him and the soft moans spilling from the man beneath you spurring you on.

That third time, as he flips you over onto your back and moves inside you so slowly, hands and eyes locked with yours — that one feels like a new beginning, a turning page.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the dawning realization. Tears he brushes away with sweet kisses, whispering, “I know, I know,” into your shoulder as he comes apart at the edges, your own release shattering through you like a bolt of lightning. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sleep intermittently. Both of you. The house is yours for the weekend, so you make the most of it. Lips coming together, bodies joining after soft sighs turn into eager movements of hands beneath covers. Over and over, like you can’t get enough — and you won’t get enough.

Somewhere around dinner time the next evening, you traipse out of bed with Eddie still sprawled out on his stomach, long tee shirt dancing along your thighs. Sock clad feet excitedly slide across wooden floors, fingers curling around the refrigerator door to pull out a bottle of champagne. As the cork pops, Eddie appears in the doorway, a white tank top covering his body, sweats hanging low on his hips. A tattooed arm comes up to rest there, the muscle of his bicep straining with the movement.

“Hi,” he whispers. Pauses, making a little camera with his hands, pretending to snap a photo.

“What was that?” you giggle airily, pouring two glasses, offering one to him.

“Just looked so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss your forehead, “sunset behind you, your smile.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle with those on his free hand. “How about I order us a pizza? I’m starving.”

You eat in comfortable silence, the bottle of champagne slipping away as the hours do. Everything feels saccharine and wonderful, perfectly warm, as he later tugs your hand on the way downstairs, deciding on a game of pool before heading back up to watch a movie together.

Eddie makes his way over to the record player in the corner. As the music fills the room, the lyrics to “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” meet your ears, a silly smile sliding across your lips.

“Are you a secret romantic?” you tease, snatching a pool cue from a rack.

“Only for you,” he muses, catching the one you throw his way as he starts to rack the balls. “I like this record, though. Reminds me of you.”

You lean over the table to break, not missing the way his eyes trail your backside as you do so. Balls scatter, a solid sinking into a pocket. “So…you’ll move in?”

“Is that your way of asking?” he chuckles, moving around the table to make a shot, knocking another ball of yours in.

“Well…” You bite at your lip, focusing on your next shot. Sink one of his. “My place is closer to your job. It’s bigger. You’ve basically lived there before…”

“You don't think it’s too soon?”

Your mouth pops open, wincing as he sinks another one of your balls. “I mean, I didn’t think. I just feel like —”

“I’m kidding, baby,” he swoops down to kiss your temple, “Told you last night you’re not getting rid of me. I want to do things right this time.”

You sip your glass a bit, relishing the bubbles that spring to life in your belly, sure many of which are thanks to the man staring at you the way he is.

“Your turn,” he says, gesturing toward your cue.

The next song plays on the record, and you once again lean forward, watching Eddie’s gaze in the mirror hanging across the way as he slips up from behind you, curling an arm low around your belly, kissing your neck.

Heat coils low, then lower still. “You’re —” A quiet sigh spills out of you, his lips toying with the space beneath your ear. “…distracting me.”

As he moves out from behind you, lining up his next shot, you snatch his pack of cigarettes free from his pocket. His eyes lock on yours as you pluck one free, holding it between two fingers, drawing it up to pursed lips. Dark eyes lock with yours as the tip glows red, watching you draw in slowly. As you exhale he snatches it from you, bringing it to his mouth.

And maybe you lean over again, backside poking out a little bit too far than it needs to, but the effect is him curling his arms around your hips, dragging your back flush against his chest as you reach up to take the cigarette back from him. Like that, you feel every inch of his body. Each dip and curve of a broad torso, the corded muscles in his arms from working with his hands for hours all day. Hands you know to be skilled, not only with your body, but with cars and his music. And he’s warm — like a damn near furnace, breath tantalizingly sweet against your ear as he kisses you softly there.

“Fuuuck me,” you sigh out as his fingers start to draw lazy circles around the tops of your thighs, dragging higher until they disappear beneath your shirt and toy at the hem of your panties, teasing, slowly swaying to “My Girl” once it starts.

“Always so wet for me, baby,” he purrs, nipping and sucking a line at your neck. He’s hard where he rests at your ass, and the urge to touch him has you reaching behind your back, cupping him through his sweats.

Eddie groans and you’re suddenly spun around, the cigarette stamped out on an ash tray behind you, your glass of champagne nearly knocked over. His hand grasps one of yours, his other loops low around your back, bodies swaying to and fro to the music, lyrics interrupted by the sounds of your lips meeting his. And it’s perfect: moonlight spilling in through a darkened window, your shirt dancing around your thighs, his heart beating in tandem with yours. You’re not sure when, or how, it happens. One moment you’re swaying with him, arms around his neck, keeping him in close. The next, you’re on your back, balls scattering around you on the table, his mouth clashing fiercely with yours.

You shove his sweatpants down, and he tugs at your panties. He’s bare beneath, and as soon as your underwear is tossed somewhere else in the room, he’s crawling up your body, the hot underside of his cock sliding through already slick folds, coating himself in your wetness.

“Eddie,” you let out a breathy whimper, the friction of him against you perfect and yet not enough all the same, “Eddie, please. I want you inside me.”

His eyes are on yours as he grips himself in hand, gliding his glistening pink tip along your center, asking, "You want me like this baby? Tell me.”

“Please. Please, I want it all, Eddie.”

“Look at us,” he whispers, and you watch that moment, that forever splendid moment where he buries himself inside you, closer to you than anyone has ever been or will be. “Jesus…” He grinds out through clenched teeth, pulling out slowly before pushing all the way back in, “You always feel so good. You feel like mine.”

“I love you.” You pant into his neck, clawing at his back as he picks up his pace, “Always loved you.”

You’ve said it a thousand times now. Watched every time as pure and unadulterated peace fell across his features. But now Eddie only holds you, whispering the sentiment back into your skin as his body drives yours further up the pool table, imbuing every roll of his hips, every thrust, with the emotions overflowing in his chest. You can feel it, the depth of it. The way he loves you, the trust between you, the promise he’ll always keep you safe and close.

You can only bask in it.

——

“Are you okay?”

He asks you again, as you stand outside that next morning, a blanket wrapped around your form.

The answer isn’t simple.

Then again, none of this has ever been. Not with Eddie. But you suppose that’s what makes it your favorite love story.

Because it’s yours. Because it’s messy and it’s different and it’s yours. Because you started off as two friends, maybe in the wrong place, in love with the wrong people at the wrong time when you first met years ago.

Or — perhaps, the right time, because in the end you’re here. With him. With thoughts of the future, plans for what happens when you head out later for your apartment.

To the place where you’ll start the newest chapter with him once and for all.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him, lowering down onto the swinging chair against the side of the home. Your fingers tangle with his, your body slumping over his chest as he gets comfortable against the cushions. He holds you like that as you trace patterns into his skin, trace over scars, over tattoos. “I’m going to miss the lake house, but I can’t wait to go home.”

“I know.” He drops a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers brushing against your spine. “Me too.”

A comfortable silence drapes over you as you watch the sun creep higher along the sky. As you listen to the birds chirping, the chatter of children. Later, it’s the ruckus of people launching themselves into the water, people fishing and boasting of their catches. And at night, as you and Eddie make one last fire and share a glass of wine, fireflies drifting around your head, you allow yourself to imagine a life where forever looks like this.

A life with your first real, honest, true love.

Someone who stares right back at you as you grin at him over the lip of your glass, who leans over and kisses you just to whisper he loves you into your lips one more time.

In a year from now you’ll be back, you in a flurry of pretty tulle and him in a tux, newly Mr. and Mrs. Munson, but for now you smile to yourself, ready to watch the next chapter unfold.

——

this is the first thing i have written this long in months after having the worst few months of my life. so happy to finally hit post on this one. i hope you enjoy, maybe leave a comment or a reblog. would mean the world to me. 💕

#lunaloveseddie #lunalovessteve #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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ilovetopgunsstuff · 3 months

Text

night shift

bradley bradshaw x reader

prompt- training for the mission is underway, and y/n has slept in bradley bradshaw's bed for more nights than she'd like to admit. when rooster has a bad dream next to her, it gets a little more personal than no strings attached should get

warnings- angst, cursing, ptsd mentioned, sex mentioned, not exactly smut

An: may be some typos, please give feedback and don't be afraid to request!

Y/n stared at the ceiling, enjoying bradley's arm wrapped tightly around her middle before they had to go back to pretending theyre just friendly collleagues during the work day.

She hadn't meant to have anything start between the two of them, but a drunken night at The Hard Deck changed that a few weeks ago. Rooster smelled good that day, tan and sculpted by the sun. Maybe his tank top was a little too tight, Hawaiian shirt a little too flowy. She had always thought he was attractive, but the alcohol really brought it out of her. They had been talking all night, rooster bought Y/n a drink. She cracked a tipsy joke and a lopsided smirk grew on his pretty face as he looked at her, head tilted. That's when she knew it was over for her.

Y/n thought she was in the clear when they all left the bar. She just had to go grab her charger from inside his house. Then he asked if you wanted water to sober up before driving home. Harmless. Then you couldn't reach the cup in his cabinet to get said water. Then he came up behind you to grab it for you, brushing against you slightly as he mumbled a "sorry" under his breath right beside you, almost touching your ear. It was then that your last shred of self-control somehow diminished, landing you right into his bed for the night.

It's been a few weeks since then, and you keep ending up here. It was supposed to just be friends with benefits, no strings attached. But sometimes it wasn't, even though neither of you would admit it. The way he splayed his massive hands across your stomach as he fucked you, gently pushing down so it'd feel better for you. The way that he would trace across your skin with his finger until you fell asleep, whispering praises in your ear, telling you how good you did. It was when he thought you fell asleep that he went to take a shower, kissing you on the forehead while running his thumb gently across your cheek. The two of you never really discussed what you were, you just were. These nights seemed to be doing more harm than good for you. It was hard to stay detached from something like this, spending your nights with someone so often. He didn’t feel like you did, you were sure, so you’d settle. You would take the nights over nothing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting during the day.

The glow of Bradley’s alarm clock read 1:34 AM. His room was nicer than you’d expect. More than two pillows on the bed, light blue sheets, ivory paint on the walls. Your favorite part though, was the decor that made Rooster who he was, the decor that nobody else on the team had probably ever seen. Old baseball photos, pictures of his graduating class, polaroids of the beach, of his bronco. It made the room feel warm.

Now here you were, trying to soak it all in before it was a secret again. He hadn’t taken a shower tonight, and wore only boxers next to you. He had fallen asleep on top of you, holding you tight, though he had since rolled over to beside you. He looked so peaceful sleeping, his face void of the serious expression he usually took on. You were laying pressed against him, his arm around your middle holding you in place. You had pulled on some clothes since the hookup, and you now donned one of Rooster’s big t-shirts and your underwear. All your other clothes were trailed around his house somewhere. All you could hear was the combination of your breaths in the late night, and you began to doze off again.

Then his breath hitched. His arm snaked away from you as he shifted in his bed. His breathing became more rapid, and a sheen of sweat show on his forehead. His dog tag glistened in the night as they jingled across his bare chest. He was having a bad dream.

This was normal for the military. Bad, traumatic memories linger in the back of your head. It hits you when you least expect it. It even taints your dreams. Everything you refuse to remember when conscious comes to haunt you at night. You have it too, and seeing him like this made your chest ache. He was mumbling now.

“No no no,” he mumbled. You sat up. He had his jaw clenched; his whole body was tense as he continued mumbling. The breathing didn’t slow.

“Rooster,” you said out loud, putting your hand gently on his and squeezing. “Rooster,” you said again, louder.

He stayed dreaming.

“Bradley.” You spoke loud enough but gentle. It was hard coming out of these dreams.

He drew a sharp breath in and sat up, muscles rippling across his back and stomach as he moved. He used the heels of his hands to rub his eyes as he seemed to catch his breath. Your hand hadn’t left his.

“It’s okay, It’s okay. You were just dreaming,” you say as he tries to get his bearings. You push his hair out of his eyes. It’s messy from sleeping. Still holding his hand, the rapid beating of a pulse can be felt coming from his wrist.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. The covers were pooled at his waist and he looked up at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for- I don’t-“

“Don’t apologize. Here,” you handed him your water from his bedside table. In a quieter voice, you say, “You’re not the only one it happens to. I usually wake up a lot less graceful than you.” You try to let out a small laugh, more nervous than amused, but it wasn’t really funny. Many times have you woken up, tangled in the sheets alone, struggling to get away from something that’s not even there. It’s PTSD, and the military can only do so much to help. The damage is already done, the memories already happened. He looked at you, watching everything you did. He looked exhausted, even though he’d been sleeping. Drained.

“Thank you,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to disturb any more peace. “Did I wake you up?”

“No.” You didn’t really have any explanation other than that. Oh I was staying awake to remember your touch so I miss it less during the day. Yeah, like that would’ve gone over smooth.

He nodded. “That’s good,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair, the other that you’re holding still limp in the bed. You (tried to) smoothly let his hand go and put your hand back in your lap. You wanted to do something for him, to help, but thats not what you were here for. It wasn’t your place. You were just a girl in his bed to him. Your hands itched to run through his hair, across his skin, but you couldn’t. “I’m probably gonna go take a shower,” he said.

And off he goes again, didn’t even wait for you to fall asleep this time. You nodded, suppressing the sigh that wanted to erupt out of your chest.

He gets up, kicking the covers off. He stood in the middle of the hard wood floor of his bedroom, boxers only. The only light was from the moon and the glow of his alarm clock. His muscular silhouette walked towards the bathroom, then faltered, seemingly looking back.

“Oh. Are you not- uh…” he trails off in the dark. Did he want you to come?

“Oh…I didn’t know I was allowed to.”

You couldn’t see him, but heard a low chuckle in the dark. “..allowed to?”

“Oh shut up,” you said as you rolled out of bed, but you couldn’t help but smirk a bit. You squinted as he flipped on the lights to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door since you were both in there. You took a chance and looked in the mirror. Your hair was wild, with your mascara running down your face in faint lines. What a charmer.

Bradley had his back turned, turning the shower on. He turned, thumbing the waistband of his boxers to take off. You began to strip as well, and all of a sudden felt shy. He did this to you all the time, but doing it yourself while he watched made your cheeks tinge pink. The overhead light reflecting off the white tile walls didn’t help either. You slid your panties off easily and they dropped to the floor. Then the shirt.

He pulled you by the hand, and you both stepped under the hot water.

Once again, he met your gaze. He was being so quiet.

“What are you looking at?” He tilts his head at you with a slight smirk, his eyes still seemed tired.

“Just…you.” You’re guessing that you’re not hiding your worried expression very well. Your eyes flicked downward and you bit your lip.

“I’ve still got a pulse, you know, darlin’. I’m gonna live.”

“I know,” you mumbled, shy. You held one of his hands in yours, keeping from looking at him as you trace over his palm. “I was just…”

“Nervous?” he asked quietly.

“Mmhm,” you hummed. He took your hand that held his and pulled you towards him. The rush and warmth of the water relaxed you slightly. He pulled you close to wrap his arms around your waist. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. This is the most personal you’ve ever gotten. This pained you; somehow being closer to him made it hurt worse, being seen as just a hookup. You would’ve been better off without any of this, any of him, but you weren’t without him. You were right here, undressed in front of him night after night like clockwork, like having a night shift. You almost groaned out loud.

“You gonna be stiff as a board this whole time or…” There he was teasing you again.

“Sorry.” You were flustered, and exhausted, not because it was one something in the morning, but exhausted mentally. Who knew no strings attached was so much work? Well, it is when one of you is attached, you guessed.

You let out a sigh, tiredly resting your chin on his tanned, warm shoulder. He tightened his arms around you, his chin in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured. His mustache and breath tickled your neck, causing you to shiver, and you began to melt all over again. “I don’t want you to be jumpy around me now. I didn’t scare you off did I?”

You picked your head up, moving back slightly to look at him. He has the hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes are serious. You let out a breathy laugh, releasing some tension. “No you didn’t scare me off. Still here.”

He smiled, an especially knee-buckling smile, and he pulled you close again. “Good,” he murmured. “I’d be lonesome if I did.”

You sighed, and a small, shy smile crept onto your face as you rested and leaned against him. “I think you’d find yourself more company in no time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughed out his words. You just hummed in response.

“I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman.”

“Mmhmm.”

He squeezed your hips playfully. “I cant believe you,” he whispered in your ear, as all space previously between you two went elsewhere.

The night shift would do.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #hangman x reader #top gun fanfiction #fanfic #jake seresin #miles teller #pete maverick mitchell

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ushiwhacka · 1 year

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time skip! ushijima wakatoshi + fem! reader | mdni | 1,167 words | established relationship, intimate sex, creampie, size kink, they're so in love it's gross <3

mornings with wakatoshi always start the same. he takes a moment to feel you there, warm and soft in his arms, stray strands of hair tickling his nose. then he detangles his limbs from yours, slowly, carefully, intent on not disturbing your sleep. even so, he can’t resist placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, your skin cool where the stretched neckline of his shirt has slipped off. he pulls the duvet over your body and he could swear the corners of your lips tug into a small smile as you clutch it to your chest.

despite his size, he moves quietly around the room, wooden doors and drawers close softly, almost without sound as he picks out his running gear. his eyes flickering over to your bed after every movement, making sure you’re still asleep. avoids the creaky floorboards and doesn’t walk too close to the dresser that rattles under the weight of his steps.

you’re always in the shower by the time he’s back from his run. and you always beckon him in, your arms tight around his waist and your head resting on his chest as the water drips over you. it’s too hot, a cold shower has countless more benefits for the body. but it doesn’t compare to the benefit of spending just a few more minutes close to you, feeling your lips brush against his skin, the sweet sound of your voice as you mumble “just five more minutes. we have time.”

wakatoshi doesn’t actually have time but he stays anyway, he’ll just drink his protein shake in the car to make up for it. but he’s halfway down the stairs of the building when a realisation hits, and then he’s sprinting back up.

you perk up at the sound of the front door opening, but before you can even ask the question, he’s in front of you. a little breathless and flushed as he bends at the waist, face level with yours. “i forgot my kisses.”

you huff, “wakatoshi you’re so silly,” but your heart swells and quickens and stops at the same time. your hands pull him in as you press tender kisses to his forehead, then his left cheek, the right cheek, down to his chin, and finally a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“have a good day, my love.” he crashes his lips onto yours. “i love you.”

“i love you.” then he’s gone again.

but there’s nothing like days when there’s nowhere to be and nothing to do, when he doesn’t have to unwind himself from you. his arm tucked under your head, tingling under the weight of it, but sometimes you nuzzle your face into his skin and he wouldn’t dare miss out on that. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, drowns in the scent of your shampoo, the scent of him that’s clinging to you. feels the rise and fall of your belly under his hand with every inhaled breath. the pads of his fingers snug against it, warm where your skin meets his.

in awe of how soft you feel in his arms, the perfect fit of your smaller frame against his body hardened with decades of rigorous training. his thoughts drift, so aware of his length resting against your lower back, twitching every time your plush lips part and then smack back together. oh and how badly he wants to kiss you, feel your lashes flutter against his cheek as your eyes open. he settles for a kiss on the shoulder, as every other day. but he feels as though his mouth has glued to your skin, pressing wet kisses all up your neck to the curve of your jaw.

you sigh, light and needy, your body curving into his. “wakatoshi,” his name stretches across your tongue, lazy with sleep, “so eager, big guy.”

his hand moves down, under the hem of your panties to where your thighs are sticking together. “good morning, my love.” skin soft and feverishly warm, his long fingers slip through your folds, slow and tender, his lips still etching open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “did i wake you?”

“mmm n-no,” the arch in your back deepens, soft moans spilling into your pillow, hips bucking, trying to find some purchase against his hand. but he only holds you closer, and you can feel him hot and leaking where your bodies meet.

you reach down, your fingers pressing into his. “i want you.”

he feels as if the earth has stopped spinning.

“turn around,” his voice even deeper and slightly strained as he speaks against the edge of your collarbone, “i want to look at you.”

face to face, your lips are barely touching, there’s no rush. no urgency. taking the time to feel him next to you, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. the taste of him on your tongue. the dip of rigid muscle under your nails. the soft flesh of his shoulder between your teeth as you bite into it.

his hands revere over your body, melting into your hips, the small of your waist. light as they are cup your cheeks before he kisses you deeply. blinking slowly as he pulls away. the air between you thick with the promise that he’s yours and yours only.

he guides your leg to wrap around his waist, smoothing over the length of it as he rocks against you, so close you can barely move. the ache only growing as the tip of his cock rubs over your heat only separated by thin cotton already damp with your slick.

you cling to him, arms curling around his neck, heel digging into his back. “toshi,” pleading as you tuck your face into his broad chest, “please, w-want you inside me.”

panties peeled to the side, he grabs at the fat of your ass, spreading you open. and you gasp at the stretch as he pushes against your entrance. his jaw tight as he buries his length into your core, so deep his tip is pushing against your cervix.

you are a mess of entangled limbs, sweat dripping between heated bodies fading into each other underneath a thick duvet. he ruts into you slowly, feeling every flutter of your pussy, feeling your chest stutter with every moan.

he kisses you just as slowly, licking into your mouth, his hand on the back of your neck. he steals your whimpers as you squeeze tight around him, sharp nails break the skin of his shoulder blades as you cum. and he finally lets go, with his forearm clamping around your hips, holding you still, snug in his arms, deep grunts caught in the crook of your neck.

head resting on his chest, the mix of your slick and his cum hot where it dribbles down your thigh. barely hanging onto consciousness, you mindlessly trail your fingers over the ridged plane of his stomach. “can we stay like this all day?”

“of course.”

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

#i won't delete this in the morning i promise!!!!#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima wakatoshi x y/n #ushijima smut #ushijima fluff #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima wakatoshi smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you

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aswaki · 3 months

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wish it was u [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 1.1k word count | explicit (minors dni)

“matthew's fuck buddy misses him to the point they surprise him with a special photo at work”

contains: afab bodied!reader, voyeurism(ish?-via phone), slight tit/nipple play, oral (reader receiving), fuck buddy/friends with benefits theme, mention of size kink, brief appearance of hanbin

wish it was u [media attached]

matthew immediately lowered the brightness on his phone when he saw what it was. he hid his phone underneath the table so he could make sure it was for his eyes only. he tried to make his face as neutral as possible. he looked down at his phone once again and there it was... displayed on the screen was a mirror selfie of you laying on your bed. naked. your top was off, revealing your supple tits that matthew loved so much. his mouth almost watered at the sight of them.

he had always enjoyed holding both your tits in his hands and giving them a massage before guiding it to his mouth. you loved having them sucked off and matthew would never deny you that pleasure. the unexpected nude was almost perfect. the only problem was the obstruction that laid on top of you. someone else was staking claim to your perfect breasts. they had one of your nipples captured between their lips. their hands firmly placed on your hips, keeping you steady to stop you from squirming. (matthew knew because he's done that plenty of times before. you were always so responsive.) matthew’s fist clenched.

you and matthew had a very… interesting relationship, so to speak. both of you had been close for years. you knew each other inside and out, literally and figuratively. it started with a game one night after having too much to drink (“matthew, truth or dare?” ‘dare’ “okay, i dare you to… stroke your dick for me,”) to swapping kinks (‘i’ve always had a size kink, you know.’ “really? is that why you like to carry me around? to show off your strength and how big you are compared to me?”) to confessions of being attracted to each other (‘you’re really hot. i've always wanted to know what it’s like have my cock inside your pussy.’ “don't tell anyone but i really want you to choke me with your biceps.”) and then to actually having sex each other (“matty, fuck me harder! feels s-so good!”). even after all of that, the both of you were only friends. friends who liked to use each other’s bodies for fun. it was a casual set up.

no strings attached, no harm, no foul. you agreed to not be exclusive but somehow, you always gravitated to one another. there were times where even the friendly hang outs you planned had ended up with you screaming for his name.

since he’s been busy lately, he guiltily hasn’t made time for you. no matter how desperate he was to feel your soft skin underneath him and to have his cock ram inside your warm walls for stress relief. he squeezed his eyes shut to get the image of you naked away from his mind. he could already feel himself getting aroused at the thought of you. he opened his eyes but there you were, still naked on his phone with another person.

he’d get mad but the message attached to the photo inflated his ego. he knew no one could replace him in pleasuring you. were you so desperate to have your body be played with? were your tits so lonely you had to look for another warm mouth? were you so horny you had to find someone willing to fill up your cunt?

“wish it was you” he smirked at that. oh, so did he. he was holed up in his work. he was currently at a meeting discussing some important thing matthew couldn’t care less about at the moment. before he could figure out what to do, another notification came through his phone.

ur still better. miss u matty. [media attached]

and you’re a fiend for teasing him… this time matthew couldn’t keep his expression neutral. his mouth hung slightly open as he clicked on the attached media. it was still you angling your phone to the mirror. however, the difference was that it's a video. matthew's finger went to lower the volume. he didn't want anybody from the meeting hearing you. your voice was meant for him, and him alone. the thought of someone else hearing you suddenly made his emotions run amok. when some sweet moans escaped from you as the person you’re with removed their mouth from your tits and went down on you, matthew felt his eye twitch knowing someone else made you moan like that. your current partner's mouth went to the waistband of your panties. they grinned at you before they used their teeth to drag the lace garment down. your legs spread wider to expose your slick pussy further. it was already so wet. their hands slid away from your hips and went on to travel lower, caressing your smooth skin that matthew was so familiar with. as it reached your inner thighs, they gave it a squeeze eliciting a small whine from you.

matthew knew what was going to happen next but he couldn’t stop himself from watching. all he could do right now was grip the phone tighter and tug on his jeans. he was starting to feel hot and restricted. in the video, the person leaned down to pepper your thighs with kisses before putting their lips on your damp folds. after gently kissing your pussy, they used their tongue to stroke your folds, up and down in a rhythmic pattern, then started to eat you out.

now, matthew has never been the possessive type but seeing you lose your resolve from a person that wasn’t him stirred something inside of him. despite all that, he could feel himself getting a hard on. back on the screen, an index finger rolled on your clit. your eyes flew shut as you moaned out, “matty…” your hold on the phone wavered as they started to play with your clit with fervor, making you more sensitive than usual. the video abruptly ends, much to matthew’s equal dismay and relief.

adrenaline ran through his body, he knew he could treat you better than that, even you knew that. it’s why you were doing all this. matthew moved from his spot on the conference table. he decided to go to you, to remind you who made you feel the best. you needed a reminder to who you belonged to. he let out a hurried, “excuse me,” before getting up and walking away. if anyone at the meeting looked intently at him, they would have seen a tent forming at his pants.

“hey, matthew! we're not done yet!” he heard hanbin call out to him but he ignored it. he'd deal with that later. right now, all he wanted right now was to fuck you mercilessly and erase the traces of someone else from your skin.

wait for me, baby. omw.

a/n: did y'all like it? i haven't really written any thing for a while so this is a quick fic i made. i wanted to dip my toes into writing fics again so i created this new blog. (i'd really appreciate it if you left feedback and maybe reblog/like this)! i hope i'm not that rusty at it. i'm going to be honest— the writing was super quick to make but finding photos to add on top took me a long time to do! lmao! if you read this far, thank you.

divider credit: saradika-graphics

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weareapackofstrays · 4 months

Text

A New Kind of Love: Chapter II

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), friends with benefits, smut, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Nonconsensual touching, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Physical Violence (Minho punches a guy), Degradation, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 2,979

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: I struggled a little with this chapter compared to the others I finished. Sorry if it's not great. Also, to spare my anxiety, I’m going to refrain from creating deadlines since this story has expanded from what it was originally meant to be (a one shot lol). I will have part three out as soon as I can. Again, any feedback/thoughts are welcome!

Chapter II: Keep Your Voice Down Prev | Next

A ringtone jolts you awake. Blearily, you look around your bedroom for the source. Stumbling, you reach for the discarded purse on the floor and fish out your mobile. Squinting at the bright light, you see the name Baddest Bitch 🎀 flash across the screen. You slide to answer.

“Hello,” your voice sounds rough.

“Bitch, did you really just ditch me last night?” Your best friend, Yuqi, shouts through the phone. You move it a few inches from your face before speaking.

“What are you talking about?”

“I went to find you and you were gone.”

You take a moment to recall the party, the memories slowly coming back. “Wait, didn’t you ditch me last night for some guy?”

“I mean, yeah, but-” you cut her off.

“Look I am super hung over right now and desperately need a shower. Can you save your scolding for later?”

“Sure, I’m going to head to the diner. Meet you there?” You look at your phone to see the time.

“I can be there in like, 30 minutes?”

“See you!”

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and very slowly make your way to the shower.

The warm water feels like heaven cleansing away all sins from last night. While washing your hair, you suddenly remember meeting your neighbor, Minho. You struggle to remember the conversation. Was I that wasted? You can only recall that he was a bit of a dick. Shaking your head, you erase him from your mind.

Dressed comfortably in jeans and a black turtleneck, you grab your long coat and keys before heading out the door. You pause to take out your sunglasses as the sun hits. As you round the corner, Minho spots you from the porch and greets you.

“Good morning!” You jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your phone. You look up to see Minho leaning over the railing smiling at you.

“How’d you sleep, princess?” Minho’s cheeriness makes your brain hurt.

“Can you keep it down? It’s like 10 in the morning. Chill.” The sun shines right into Minho’s chocolatey eyes and you can see every variation of brown in his irises. They’re stunning.

“Not feeling so well, huh?” You’re completely flabbergasted by his presence.

“How long have you been waiting there for me?”

Minho doesn’t expect you to ask. “Not…long.” He looks down at his hands and picks at some invisible dirt under his nails. Jisung appears behind him and slaps Minho on the back. He falls forward with an oomph from the force.

“Hey Hyung!” Jisung looks over Minho’s shoulder and sees you.

“Oh! Morning, Y/n!” His gummy smile on full display.

“Is your whole household on uppers or something?” Placing your sunglasses on top of your head, you look around questioning if this is the twilight zone. Jisung takes in your appearance and notices how tired you look.

“Rough night?” he asks with a wince.

“Something like that,” you give Minho a pointed look.

“Where you headed?” Minho asks.

“Coffee. Meeting a friend.”

Jisung slaps Minho on the back again. “Well, that is perfect!” Minho stands up straight and looks at Jisung angrily. The younger boy ignores him and continues, “We were just about to head that way. Want some company?”

“Oh, um-,” the boys don’t give you a chance to answer, instead joining you on the sidewalk. Jisung loops his arm into yours.

“가자”

“What?”

“He means let’s go,” Minho answers for Jisung.

“Okay, then, Ka-cha, I guess,” you try to repeat back. Minho and Jisung smile at your attempt.

You arrive at the diner and see Yuqi in your usual booth. She spots you and waves. Pulling you into a hug, she notices two guys standing awkwardly behind you and releases you.

“Uh, did you adopt some strays on the way here?” Jisung takes in the sight of your best friend and stares at her with big heart eyes, his mouth slightly agape. You notice Jisung’s expression and giggle.

“Jisung, Minho, this is Yuqi. Yuqi, Jisung, Minho.” You gesture to each person to make introductions. Minho leans in to shake Yuqi’s hand, but Jisung jumps in front of him, taking hold of her instead.

“Hi, I’m Jisung,” he practically shouts.

Yuqi flashes both boys a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” She points for the two of them to sit down. Jisung eagerly takes the spot next to Yuqi leaving you and Minho on the other side of the booth.

“So how do you three know each other?” Yuqi asks.

“They live above me.”

“Do they now?” Yuqi gives you a flirty look that you refuse to entertain.

After placing your orders, conversation flows easily between the four of you.

“And what about you two? How do you know each other?” Yuqi motions between Jisung and Minho.

Jisung smiles and says, “We met in high school. He punched a guy who was bullying me. He’s basically my soulmate, isn’t that right 자기?”

“Shut up, Ji.” Minho laughs.

You look at Minho, “Ja-gi?”

“It means something like darling.”

“I see.”

“He’s just joking though,” Minho shrugs unconvincingly.

“What are you talking about, 자기? Don’t lie to them!” Jisung pouts, making Yuqi laugh.

He’s not one to go out of his way to connect with people, but he’d practically been taken hostage by Jisung and Felix. Whether it was Stockholm Syndrome or the balls of sunshine finally wearing him down, they eventually became his closest friends. Through Jisung he met Chris and Changbin. As a dance major he met Hyunjin who eventually introduced him to Jeongin and Seungmin. Minho grew up often feeling alone. His gruff personality could rub people the wrong way, but for whatever reason, his seven friends held onto him making him feel a part of something. A family.

Minho changes the subject and turns to speak to you, leaving Yuqi and Jisung to chat alone.

“Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, actually. A lot better.”

“Good.” He fiddles with his coffee cup as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. You both smile watching your friends across the table flirt.

“Those two seem to be getting along.” Minho says quietly as he takes a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cute.” Right on cue, your friends laugh at something amusing on Jisung’s phone.

“You two close?” You look away from your friend to Minho.

“We are. I guess you could say she’s my Jagi.” Minho smiles at that.

“Was she at the same party as you last night?”

You lean back into the booth and nod, “She was.”

“She seems to be in better shape than you were this morning.”

“Yuqi doesn’t drink.”

Minho nods. “So that makes you the drinker?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m kidding,” he says quickly to diffuse you.

“Is this fun for you?” Too late.

“What?”

“Getting under my skin.”

“Don’t make it so easy then.” He says teasingly, but you don’t take the joke.

“Dude, I just met you like yesterday.”

“Why are you getting so mad? I was just joking. Relax.”

“Relax?”

He throws his hands in the air, defeated. “Why do you make it impossible to get to know you?”

You scoff and stand up. “Yuqi, we’re leaving.”

Yuqi looks away from Jisung, the two of them completely oblivious to your disagreement with Minho.

“Right now?”

Minho leans back into the booth and crosses his arms.

“Yes, come on.” You stand up from the booth and reach out for your friend’s hand.

She looks at Jisung before reluctantly taking your hand. “Okay.” She waves goodbye to Jisung. You give him a wave as well, but ignore Minho who looks away from you.

Jisung stands up and shouts, “I-I’ll see you around!” The door chimes as you both exit.

“Hyung, I think I’m in love.”

Minho sighs. “You just met her.”

“Did I? Or have our souls been searching for each other across centuries and have finally reunited?” Minho just groans as he picks up his coffee cup. Jisung clutches his chest looking at the glass door before turning to Minho.

“You seem to have taken a liking to, Y/n.”

Minho snorts into his coffee. “Absolutely not.”

Jisung just shakes his head. “And yet you waited on the porch for fifteen minutes until she finally left her apartment.”

“I-well, that was-” Minho stumbles over his words.

“Uh huh.” He throws the elder a satisfied smirk. Jisung could always see through Minho.

While walking back from class the next day you look up to see Minho’s window slightly ajar. A cloud of smoke forcing its way through the crack. Before you can stop yourself, you find your body standing at the threshold knocking on the front door. The door flies open and you're greeted by a beautiful blonde boy with freckles painted across his face.

“Hello!” the beautiful blonde boy speaks, but it takes a moment for his words to register.

“Uh, hi!” You finally shout out. “I’m your neighbor from downstairs.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Y/n! I’m Felix. I’ve heard so much about you!” he says as he pulls you into a hug.

“You have?” Your voice muffled as you speak into his chest. He releases you and holds you by your shoulders to look you over.

“Wow, you’re beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm at the compliment.

“Oh, thank you. You are too.” He smiles and invites you in.

“So, Y/n, to what do we owe the pleasure?” You look over and notice he’s in the middle of a video game.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Felix follows your gaze to his paused game.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t really…winning.” He grumbles as he scratches the back of his head.

“Well, I was just looking for-” As if summoned by your subconscious, Minho makes his way downstairs before you can even get his name out.

“Y/n?” You turn to see Minho at the base of the stairs. He’s shirtless wearing only gym shorts. His briefs peeking through. You force yourself to not look at his chest or lower and maintain eye contact.

“Minho, hey…”

Felix watches the exchange, amused. “You came here for Minho, hyung?” People don’t usually make house calls for his grumpy resident cat.

“Yeah.” You continue staring at Minho.

“What are you doing here?” He looks at Felix. The two exchange a silent word and Felix nods.

“I am going to check and see if my brownies are done.” He gently squeezes your arm to get your attention. “You’re welcome to one, if you would like.” You smile at him. Felix disappears into the kitchen leaving the two of you alone in the entrance of the house.

Minho closes the gap between you since you seem planted in your spot. He tilts his head. “Well?” He’s standing directly in front of you now. Before you can answer you notice a scar just below his ribs. Without thinking you trace the line with your finger. Minho’s stomach tightens beneath your touch and he lets out a strained breath.

“What happened?”

“It’s from when I was a baby. I had to have a procedure done.” You look up at him concerned, your finger still lightly touching the end of the scar.

“Are you okay now?”

He affectionately laughs at your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Minho moves your hand away before the electrical current from your touch reaches any further south. He doesn’t let go of your hand though and instead stares at where your fingers are intertwined. The atmosphere shifts.

“Hey, hyung, can you help me with-” Jisung suddenly walks in, breaking the tension. “Y/n, hi!” You look at Jisung and shake your head ending the spell.

“Sorry, I have to go!” You push past Minho after giving Jisung a wave and head to leave.

Felix calls out to you from the kitchen, “Y/n, your brownie!”

“Next time!” You rush out and close the door behind you.

Jisung looks at Minho blinking. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” he says in disbelief. He walks over to the window and watches as you hurriedly walk down the street and out of view.

Minho sits at a table studying when he spots you entering the library. It had been a few days since he last saw you. Your touch now seared on his scar. He felt you every time he closed his eyes and despite himself, he craved your nearness. As if possessed, he abandons his books and follows you into the maze of the stacks.

It takes some time to find you, but when he does you’re at the end of an aisle at the very back of the library. He can feel his heart beat into his ears. Sensing a presence, you look up from your book and are surprised to meet Minho’s eyes. He stands at the opposite end of the aisle waiting for a signal. You place your book down and face him. Minho takes a tentative step in your direction, then another. You take one too until you're both rushing to close the gap. It probably doesn’t make sense to an outsider, but the two of you were drawn to each other like magnets. Maybe it didn’t make sense to you either. Did you even like Minho? Did it matter? It didn’t, not as he crashed his lips against yours and pushed you into the bookshelf. Electricity crackling between the two of you.

Minho grips the shelf behind him to steady himself. Your hands immediately begin exploring his body. You could feel every outline of his muscles beneath your palms and his skin ignites from your touch. He pushes his hard length into your center as he kisses down your neck. Minho starts sucking and you know it's going to leave a mark. You don’t care. What you didn’t expect was for him to bite you. The pain sends pleasure through your middle and a cry escapes your mouth. This elicits a growl from Minho as his hands begin to hurriedly pull up your jean skirt. You feel his Adam's apple bob as you lick up and down the length of his throat. You then graze your teeth along his jawline. It was your turn to leave marks. Your skirt now up to your hips, Minho completely exposes you to him. You lift your head and look around.

“What if someone sees?”

“Just look at me.” And you do. Everything around you, the books, the shelves disappear. It’s just the two of you alone. He can feel your arousal as he cups your sex.

“So wet for me, princess. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

You smack his chest. "Shut up.” He lets out a husky laugh as he places his lips on your shoulder.

“Bite me again and I’ll kick your nuts.”

“Noted.” You felt him smile against your skin. Minho pushes your panties aside and slides two fingers in without hesitation. You let out a breath not realizing you had been holding one in.

“Fuck.” You clench around his fingers as you take him in.

“You’re so warm,” he moans. He starts pushing in and out of you as your wetness quickly coats his hand.

“Kiss me.” He brings his lips to yours and you bite at him needily.

“But I can’t bite you?”

“I swear to god if you ruin this right now with that mouth of yours…”

Minho removes his fingers from you and drops to his knees. “What? This mouth?”

“Minho, what are-” before you could protest, he licks up your wet folds making you shiver. The tip of his tongue pushes at your clit.

“Yes, more!” Minho slowly circles around before sucking harshly. “Ooh, baby. Like that,” you purr. That nearly sends him over his edge. He palms his bulge with his free hand to adjust himself before he slides his fingers back in. Minho now pumps relentlessly and you can hear your wetness squelch with every movement.

“Too much!” But Minho doesn’t relent.

You grip his hair pulling and pushing him further into you. He groans, sending a vibration through your pussy and you moan loudly.

“Keep your voice down,” he whispers.

“F-fuck you-u,” Minho chuckles as he resumes eating you out. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and the new angle gives his long fingers better reach. Minho can feel the ribs of your walls enclose him tightly and he knows you’re close. Your breathing becomes shallow as your orgasm rises through your body and stars dot your vision. Minho tongues your clit harder and forces a third digit inside of you. You grind against him as you finally come into his mouth. You have to use all your strength to hold in your cries and grip the shelf behind you to stay grounded. Minho doesn’t let up, letting you ride out your orgasm while he laps up your ecstasy. You whimper as you shake from overstimulation.

Minho finally releases you and stands. He puts your panties back in place and pulls your skirt down. His lips, nose, and chin are covered in your essence making your middle tighten in pleasure. Minho licks each finger individually, not letting a drop go to waste.

“So sweet.”

He wipes his face with the back of his sleeve once he finishes. Still coming down from your high, you don’t realize how closely you're leaning against the bookshelf. Your fingers gripping the shelf so hard your knuckles are white. Minho notices and takes hold of your hands to help you upright. Tension leaves your fingers as he places feather light kisses across your knuckles. All you can do is stare into Minho’s brown eyes. He smiles at your blissed out state and leans into your ear. “See you around, princess.” Minho releases your hands and disappears, leaving you absolutely stunned.

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604

#Stray Kids #Lee Know #Lee Minho #lee know x reader #lee know smut #stray kids lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #fanfic smut #skz lee know #skz smut #skz fanfic #skz lee minho #minho x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #Lee Know Fan Fic #weareapackofstrays

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theit-girl111 · 2 years

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HABIT FOR

SUCCESS

Well , as you all know, I finally manifested my dream life (success story coming soon) , i finally have all of my desires but even if my blog is about loa, its also about SELF IMPROVEMENT.

So here is the habits of a master manifestor and a successful student /person/ect.

WAKE UP AT 7:00 or before

Even if you are tired. This will help you naturally develop a good sleeping schedule because you will be tired earlier. and sleep earlier. Thanks to this you are also gonna finish all of your assignment earlier and have more time for yourself.

SLEEPING EARLY

Whats up ? You're dumb? Sleep early. It helps w weight loss/maintenance. Makes you prettier. Make you look fresher . Makes you smarter w a better memory. And so much more. Sleeping early=sleeping more = pure benefits.

WORKING OUT

No. Working out isn't just for a perfect /skinny body. Working out helps with mental and physical health. So please, at least stretch. ( workout ideas for beginners; a simple warm up in the morning is perfect . If you want something more intense and you wanna burn calories I recommend to you a cardio/ HIT workout before taking your shower. Any 5 minutes workout or less is good but try to add more and more minutes everytime!)

MAKE TIME to affirm/meditate/spirituality

Give yourself every morning and night at least 20 minutes to affirm and visualize your desire or whatever you are manifesting in your 4d . Also meditate about you already having it ( no need to guided manifestation. Just slowly breathe till you feel calm/sleepy and think about the desire you already have).

DRINK water

Drinking water have MANY benefits such as : weight loss, reduce fatigue and increase energy, flush out toxins, improve skin complexion and more! Make hydrating fun with tea or lemon water.

EAT well

Not eating can kill you and eating too much too. Eat enough food ( till you feel satisfied but not full, it's not healthy) and try to eat healthy food (at least half of the plate should be vegetables. Also try to reduce processed food , cook & eat at home) .

DO things that put you in a good mood

Start your day by doing something you like , something that put you in a good mood for the day. Its really good for mental health, realising stress & being more positive through the day & what could happen in it.

READ a lot

It helps with a better vocabulary, developing imagination, better grammar & honestly just a very good habit.

LEARN something new everyday

Honestly anything even if its just a random fun fact or a weird diy but never go to sleep without learning something new. Even if it is something small or that you don't consider " useful ".

#law of assumption #self concept #improving #self improvement #best version #best version of yourself #good habits #healthy habits #routine #success

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becomingthatgirl111 · 1 year

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create your perfect routine (day and night)

where to start? ask yourself these questions:

🤍 what habits would i like to have in my life? and how can i incorporate them? 🤍 what are the habits i have now that are not benefiting me? 🤍 what do i want to focus on? 🤍 what are the things i want to do that are possible right now? 🤍 what are my short and long-term goals and objectives and if these new habits i want to implement will help me to achieve them?

important: may these new habits bring you closer to your desired version of yourself and your life.

after knowing what you really want to achieve, review your current schedule and make a few modifications if it is difficult for you to organize yourself, use a planner or a to-do list.

start your routine from the night before, this is very important because if we have a good night (we go to bed with happy thoughts) we will wake up motivated and eager to start our day.

set a bedtime alarm (one hour earlier than you usually go to bed) and then start planning one or two hours in advance everything you have to do before going to bed. make sure you turn off your cell phone and eliminate distractions such as tv and social media this does not benefit us, we can dedicate some time a day but no more)

things you can do:

a warm shower before bed and skin care

organize tomorrow's day with a to-do list

write down things you are grateful for or happy about

read a book

do a meditation before going to sleep that makes you feel calm and happy

go to sleep with the feeling and assurance that tomorrow will be a great day

a little tip, the next morning when you wake up, smile! it's going to be a great day!

since you have already organized yourself the night before, wake up one or two hours earlier than you used to in order to start your day in a productive way.

start with a meditation or positive affirmations.

drink water, your body has been resting for many hours and you need hydration.

make your bed and tidy up your space

review the things you have to do today and get down to work with a lot of motivation

take a few minutes to read something inspiring or write affirmations

move your body in the way that you like best

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abibliophobiaa · 3 months

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coming soon…

The sun shines the next morning.

There’s comfort in knowing it always does, even if the day that came before was one of the hardest you ever faced.

A new page, a turning point, and maybe a new beginning.

It’s all you hope for.

A blanket covers your form, the chill of the morning air spreading gooseflesh along your arms.

Your body aches in places, a lovely kind of ache. An ache from his fingers along your skin, his lips at your mouth, his hips between your thighs.

An ache from being loved thoroughly.

A living, breathing, comforting thing.

“Are you okay?”

It’s a soft whisper against your ear. You hum gently as he draws nearer.

His hands circle your waist. Your fingers brush over the backs of his forearms.

The heat of his chest rests at your back. Your body slumps into his, a new comfort to be found there.

Uniquely him.

The answer isn’t simple.

Then again, none of this has ever been.

——

eddie munson x reader with a sprinkle of — unrequited steve harrington x reader. unrequited eddie munson x nancy wheeler. steve harrington x nancy wheeler.

warnings: 18+, smut, friends with benefits, codependent relationships, angst, unrequited love, heartbreak, second chance romance, drinking, mentions of recreational smoking…but i promise a happy ending.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #lunaloveseddie #lunalovessteve #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Spotify

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annaandmiah · 3 months

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WATER REMEDIES♡

CUCUMBER WATER

to make: Leave cucumber slices in water overnight

benefits: hydration, detox, clear skin, flat stomach, helps bloating

GINGER WATER

to make: boil fresh ginger in water for 10-15 mins

Benefits: helps with headaches, reduces bloating, helps wl, reduces cramps, hair growth

CUMIN WATER

to make: Let cumin seeds boil in water for 10 mins

benefits: helps with sleep, clear skin, helps with weight loss

HONEY WATER

to make: add honey to warm water and drink in the morning

benefits: energy, clear skin, helps allergies, flat stomach

ALOE WATER

to make: add aloe vera gel into your blender, with water and blend until smooth

benefits: energy, clears acne, hair growth

MINT WATER

to make: put mint leaves in water overnight

benefits: detox, weight loss, clears acne

ROSE WATER

to make: Put rose petals in boiling water and let simmeer

benefits: glowing skin, healthy hair, shrinks pores

LEMON WATER

to make: squeeze lemon juice into warm water

benefits: detox, helps digestion, flat stomach

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vidaamour · 5 months

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Since everyone seems to be getting sick I got some erm potions for ya;

Sore throat?

Brew a throat coat tea, add in honey, fresh garlic and ginger. Honey is anti bacterial, garlic and ginger have many health benefits that act as anti inflammatories.

Mucus?

Take the skin and core of a fresh pineapple and steep it in boiling water for an hour, fish out the solids and drink the water that’s left. Pineapple has enzymes that attack the mucus and push it out of the body. Plus pineapple over all is good for you.

Nausea?

Smell a rubbing alcohol pad or rubbing alcohol in general(learned this when I was taking Ems courses). Drink a flat coke or ginger ale. The coke syrup in coke helps settle the stomach and the ginger in gingerale is anti inflammatory.

Headache?

Feet in hot water, something frozen on the back of your neck and head between your knees. The heat is gonna warm your extremities and the cold is gonna help pull the excess blood from your head causing the headache. Almonds work as a natural aspirin, eating about ten to twenty whole almonds has been proven to help with headaches along with black coffee.

Over all just icky?

Boil pastina, add it to warm veggie or chicken broth for a go to feel better classic my Italian mama swears by. Add in parmigiana and LOTS of black pepper.

Chug some orange juice and water.

If all else fails, go to a doctor and wear a mask.

#witchtok #baby witch #pagan witch #witchblr #witchcraft #curse breaking #storm witch #witch #witch community #witches #at home remedies #cold and flu season

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fallingdownhell · 4 months

Note

May I have Kaeya, Diluc, and or Zhongli with a pup hybrid reader who gets consistent night mares?

The pup just tosses and turns in the night to the point of either waking up crying or just can't sleep. So they go down to the kitchen to find something to calm their nerves (like tea.) Then the guys notice that their partners gone or hear them moving around then follow after to go comfort them.

Just silence in the kitchen besides the kettle boiling and the men just hug their partner, saying things to comfort them or get their tail wagging again. After tea and stuff, they just get carried back to bed and the pup falls asleep with a 200+ pound man cuddling ontop of them.

Something cute and you can make it as angsty as you'd like 😈 thankks

Angst, you say..? I like making things angsty 👀 Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya Content: gender neutral reader; puppy hybrid reader; mentions of nightmares; whole lot of fluff and comfort Word count: 1,8k words Enjoy <3

Diluc

With a loud gasp, you awake from your sleep. Heavy breathing and sweat dripping down your temples, you try and catch your breath while also reorienting yourself to your surroundings.

It takes a while until you recognize the shape of the room again, the bedroom you share with your boyfriend. Who was still peacefully sleeping right next to you, an arm loosely draped over your waist.

Feeling still shaken up from the nightmare, you know that you can't go to sleep right away again, so you decide to get up, careful not to wake Diluc up as well. He's been working so much lately, the last thing you want to do is disturb his well earned rest.

Once you managed to slip out of his arms, you quietly tiptoe out of the bedroom and gently close the door behind you. You listen to for a few seconds, of any sounds come from the room. When you hear nothing, you turn to find the mansion quiet and dark, everyone else asleep as well.

You contemplate your options for a bit, in the end deciding to go to the kitchen to make yourself something warm to drink. As you go down the steps, your ears perk up a bit, listening to every little sound in and outside the mansion for anything unusual.

The nightmare still clings onto you, not letting go of its grasp on you, which shows in your tail weakly hanging down, only very few movement coming from it.

When you arrive at the kitchen, you immediately go for the kettle to brew yourself some tea. While you're waiting for the water to boil, you sit down on one of the chairs, facing the window. The scenery looks beautiful at night, the lake in full view, the moon reflecting on the surface of the water, making the whole scene feel so serene.

While looking out the window, your thoughts once again drift back to the nightmare. You know that it was just a dream, but the things he said to you in them... they haunt you. What if that was how he truly felt about you..?

What if he really thought of you as some monstrosity? Was he only with you out of pity? Or because he could get some sort of benefit for himself? What if he was after something else entirely and never loved you in the first place? What if-

Your spiraling thoughts get cut off when you suddenly feel a pair of arms hug you from behind, Diluc's scent and warmth instantly enveloping you. You jump a bit from the sudden action, but quickly relax again as you realize that it's him.

You hadn't heard him come down at all. Were you really that deep in your head?

"Nightmare?", he asks, his voice sounding still rough from sleep as he burries his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose against your skin.

Not sure if you were able to speak right now, you simply nodded as an answer.

"Want to talk about it?"

You think it over for a second, but ultimately shake your head. You couldn't, at least not right now.

Diluc accepts that and just continues to hold you like this, unitl the kettle signals that the water is now properly boiled. Before you can even attempt to get up yourself, he lets go off you, goes over and prepares the tea for you, handing you the cup when he returns to your side.

You take the mug from him and thank him quietly, half expecting that he'd go back to sleep now. Instead, Diluc gently picked you up and carried you over to the sofa, sitting himself down and placing you in his lap, careful that you wouldn't spill any of the hot tea.

"..Shouldn't you be going back to sleep?", you ask in a hushed voice. Diluc looks at you for a second, hums in response but doesn't move a single muscle to try and get up. Instead, he lifts a hand and begins to gently comb his fingers through your hair.

Sighing at his action, you close your eyes as you lean your body further into his, enjoying the calming effect his presence has on you. The sound of his steady heartbeat, combined with his scent always puts you at ease.

After taking a sip from your tea, Diluc then bends over you, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You don't have to talk about it right away. But I want you to know that I love you. And I'm here for you whenever you're ready."

Hearing these words from him, it seemed almost like the reassurance was all you needed from him. You felt yourself feeling a lot happier again and a small smile grazed the edges of your lips.

"...I love you, too.", you tell him back, resting your body against his chest. You felt so secure right here in his arms, that you didn't even notice your tail starting to wag the tiniest bit.

Kaeya

Nightmares were a somewhat regular occurance for you. You suffered through them frequently your entire childhood. And while noone really knows what causes them, they seemed to come and go at random.

You could go for months without any nightmare whatsoever, only for them to come back and haunt you for days and weeks on end, before leaving you alone again.

Most of the times, they were okay to deal with. But every now and then, the dreams could get so bad that you'd be waking up either crying or screaming at the top of your lungs, almost like you were about to get murdered. The first time that Kaeya had witnessed this, he was panicing, asking you what was going on.

You had a long talk with him the next day and since then, he's always asking you how he can support you should something like this happen again. He's always making sure you fall asleep before him, claiming that it makes him feel more at ease when he knows that you can at least fall asleep and get a good dose of rest.

He tells you that he wants to be woken up by you should you ever wake up from a nightmare. And though you told him you'd do that, you don't always follow through with your promise. He has an exhausting job and you'd feel bad for waking him up in the middle of the night every time you got a nightmare. But you have done it a few times, when the dreams were really bad.

This time however, it seemed like you wouldn't have to do anything.

It was a bad dream. Worse than the worst you ever had. You can't recall the contents of the dream, but you remember that you were terrified, screaming. You must have been screaming in reality, too. Because when you came to yourself again, you saw Kaeya's worried face looming over you, fear written all over it. He was shacking you, trying to wake you up.

"(Name)? Gods, you finally woke up! Are you alright?", he looks relieved when you finally gain consciousness again, backing off a bit to give you more space.

You jolt up in the bed, eyes blown wide, panic still settled deep into every bone of your body. You suddenly feel hyper aware of the clothes clinging to your body from all the sweat and you begin to mindlessly pull and tear on them.

"Hey, hey shh, it's okay.", Kaeya's voice comes from next to you. You can hear that he has to force himself to sound calm, and that doesn't exactly help you to relax.

He then gently takes ahold of both your wrists, placing your hands of his chest as he begins to talk to you. "Hey, focus on me, (name). Focus and take a deep breath in. Here, I'll do it with you."

He guides you through it and after a couple of minutes, it helps and you feel yourself calming down again. He still continues on like that for a bit longer.

"Better?", he asks after you calmed down enough and your breathing evens out again. You nod slightly, but the memories of the terror you felt still haunt you, your ears and tail tucked close to you.

Kaeya also takes notice of this and tries to think of a way to help you out. He comes up with an idea that might help you relax, so he gives you a kiss to your cheek, before he tells you his idea. "How about you take a quick shower, hm? Your clothes must stick uncomfortably. While you do that, I'll make you something hot to drink. Does that sound good?"

Again, you only manage a weak nod of your head, but it's enough for him. Kaeya then helps you stand up and walks to the bathroom with you, helping you out of your drenched clothes. He makes sure you get in the shower safely before shutting the door. He then goes back to the bedroom and takes out a set of your favourite, comfy clothes for you to put on afterwards. Then, he's in the kitchen, preparing a hot chocolate in your favourite mug, since this one can hold the most content inside of it.

After several minutes, you open the bathroom door again, dressed in the clothes he put out for you, hair still wet from the shower. He softly winks you over and you go to sit next to him on the bed. He offers you the hot beverage and you take it from him, thanking him silently.

Then, he takes a comb from your nightstand and turns around to you. "May I?", he asks with a soft smile. You look at the comb in his hands, then at him and a small blush spreads on your cheeks as you nod and turn around, allowing him to brush out your tail.

He goes to work, gently working through the hair and combing it out tenderly. Moments like these are when you truly feel loved by him, when he does those things for you without expecting anything in return from you.

It's quiet in the room, but your ears still pick up on silent sounds, and right now, you close your eyes and focus on Kaeya's calm and steady heartbeat as he grooms your tail.

Soon enough, the nightmare is pushed to the back of your mind and you find yourself cuddled up against him, your tail wagging happily behind you as he holds you close to him, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, telling you over and over again how much he loves you, that he'll always stay right by your side.

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theluckywizard · 7 months

Text

Winter is Coming Prompts

Made for @dadrunkwriting

The Inconveniences of Winter

Snow falling down inside one’s clothes

Someone tracks snow all over the house

Slipping on ice over and over again

Something important is frozen shut!

Casks and bottles of ale exploding because they’ve frozen

Frosty, icicly beards and mustaches

Ice build up in horse hooves

Boots soaked through, toes going numb

Suffering from the shorter days and long dark nights

Blinded by the sun reflecting off the snow

Tracking down your mittens, hats, scarves, heavy socks before heading into the cold

People complaining about winter

White out conditions

Sleet pelting skin

Winter Fun and Pranks:

Breathing frosty fog onto a surface and drawing in it

The ethereal beauty and silence of a fresh snowfall

Taking a sauna or enjoying a sweat lodge with friends and or LI

Polar plunge for madness or health benefits

Hot alcoholic beverages are consumed (in excess?)

Unexpected snowball fight

Winter bonfire with hot drinks and food roasting on sticks

Writing a message in fresh snow with footprints

Pulling a tree branch so that snow falls on the person behind you

Freezing someone’s belongings in water

Winter Romance

Huddling for warmth under a single blanket

Warming up your LI’s numb fingers, nose and cheeks

Putting cold toes on your LI in bed to steal their heat

Bumping cold noses together

Warm kisses on cold skin

Spicy times beside a fireplace

Cozy on horseback together or in a sleigh

Making hot beverage for LI to warm them up

Winter Angst and Whump

Stripping LI down to share body warmth to prevent hypothermia

Frostbite

Feeling lonely on Satinalia

Unable to find shelter from the conditions

Unable to find food because winter

Discovering an individual suffering from exposure

Feeling the effects of hypothermia (sleepiness, disorientation, no longer shivering, slurred speech, memory loss, fumbling hands)

Getting lost in a snowstorm

Failing to start a fire for warmth

#Prompt List #DADWC #Writing Prompts #Winter Writing Prompts #Cold Weather Writing Prompts #Winter Cometh

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