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punkshort · 10 months

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i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Summary: You and Eddie face a familiar nemesis at a Teacher Appreciation luncheon, but the rewards that come with your strengthened relationship are far sweeter.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), semi-public sex, oral (f! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), choking, spanking, praise kink, orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, Carol Perkins makes an appearance

WC: 9.6k

Chapter 18/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie pic credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

Out to lunch

Be back soon

That’s the message hastily scribbled onto the sheet of staff paper Scotch taped just above Rock Records’ hours of operation. Innocuous enough; a sign that has been posted on many a small town storefront. But if anyone is listening closely, they’ll hear Guns ‘N Roses still playing over the tinny sound system—not to mention the moans drifting from Eddie’s managerial office.

Eddie has you laid back on the desk, your legs hooked over his shoulders. His fingers grab onto your thighs with such ferocity that his rings threaten to leave indents on your supple skin. He’s on his knees, a man possessed as his tongue glides over your clit.

“F-Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

You can feel him grinning against you, obviously pleased to be catapulting you into this blissful spiral. He tugs you just a bit closer, the subtle movements of his jaw apparent as he laps at your pussy. His own noises nearly drown out yours; the way he devours you has him smacking his lips together greedily. You’re a feast, and he doesn’t intend to leave a single crumb behind.

Your legs tremble and your toes curl, back arching to create a small gap between you and the table. Somehow, you manage to sit up just enough to reach out and lace your fingers through the strands of hair that have escaped his ponytail.

He’s acutely aware that you’re watching him, though he doesn’t see your awestruck expression as you take in the sight before you. A sheen of slick and saliva coat his chin, evidence that his efforts are far from futile.

He’s so beautiful between your legs, worshiping your pussy like it’s a deity, leaving nothing untouched. His cock strains against his fly as it seeks the warmth of being inside you.

“I’m close, baby, s-so close!”

He knows he should stop now, forcing you to beg him to let you finish, but he simply can’t deny you. Maybe some of it is selfish; making his girl come is just as satisfying as his own orgasm. The way you chant his name, body shaking as unbridled ecstasy takes over.

Your free hand swoops across the table, knocking to the ground a small stack of papers and a paperclip box. Everything scatters along the carpeted floor. “Sh-shit, ‘m sorry—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eddie growls, two thick fingers gliding in your wet sex as he speaks. “Don’t you dare do anything but come for me.”

That shuts you up, save for the wanton moans you exhale as the coil in your belly snaps and relief floods your body.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Eddie is pulling you and bending you over his desk. Your elbows hit the table, but you’re still floating too high to brace yourself for pain. The soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone and his zipper teeth opening have you clenching around nothing.

He hikes your skirt up even higher—your lace panties already snug in his back pocket—and taps the head of his length on your ass. You’re so wet that you’re glistening, and he grabs the Trojan from his wallet before rolling it over himself and pushing into you.

“Thassit, mmm, fuck,” he grunts, filling you fully until he bottoms out. “You knew what you were doing when you came here, didn’t you?” One arm wraps around your waist as he thrusts up into you. “Pretending like you just wanted to visit. Yeah, right.”

You grin victoriously. Eddie didn’t normally work on Sundays, but when he picked up a last-minute shift for a sick co-worker, you had to jump at the opportunity.

His pace intensifies as your body brings him to his own release. If you were at either of your places, he would still be eating you out, not stopping until he had you in tears. He wouldn’t even care if stickiness pooled in his boxers, but he has no spare pants to change into, and he certainly can’t get caught with cum-stained pants while on the clock.

His hips piston a bit faster, hand dropping so his middle finger can readily find your clit. As soon as you whimper, already overstimulated all the fullness within you, he’s a goner. You can feel his heart racing when his chest presses to your spine, even through your respective shirts.

“‘M right there, oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, teeth gritted in concentration. He throws his head back and grabs a handful of your bare ass, smacking it for good measure.“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me.” Every syllable is punctuated with another snap of his pelvis. The heart pendant hanging from your necklace bounces against your chest with each movement. “‘M coming, coming all f’you, take it, baby.” He spills into the condom with a satisfied groan, the force of his final thrusts sending you over the edge.

His plush lips leave tender kisses along the side of your neck, delaying his inevitable withdrawal. “That was…holy shit,” he breathes with a kind laugh. You wince as he pulls out of you, already far too empty for your liking. Nimble fingers knot the used latex, dropping it into the wire trashcan beside the desk.

“Y’okay?” Eddie asks when he notices your silence. Worry creases his brows. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” His gaze drops to the flesh he’d just spanked, gently running his palm over it in an attempt to soothe. “I might’ve gotten carried away—”

“‘M good,” you reassure him, having finally found your voice. You giggle as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I like when you’re a little rough with me,” you admit, heat creeping up the back of your neck.

Eddie cocks his head. “Yeah?” He fixes your skirt, ensuring that everything is covered, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Yeah.” There’s a shy smile on your face as you turn and face him, leaning in so your mouths can meld together. His hands cup your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, tongue tentatively nudging yours as though asking permission. You eagerly allow him in, one finger hooked on his belt loop.

Even when he’s playing a dominant role, withholding your pleasure until he sees fit, it’s no less intimate than when you make sweet, sensitive love. Relinquishing autonomy carves out a path for security and respect, two facets that Eddie takes to heart. He’s learned to read your body like a map, knowing exactly where to touch you—and where not to touch you—and how to bring you to your tipping point.

“How am I supposed to continue my shift after that?” he asks, still remaining close enough that the slightly chapped skin of his lips scratch yours. The two of you exchange breaths, utterly intoxicated on each other. “Gonna be thinking about my perfect girl the rest of the day.” His teeth gently nip at you when he speaks. “This beautiful face…beautiful hands…” He drops to his knees and pulls your waist closer to him, hands strong on the small of your back. “Beautiful stomach…beautiful legs…”

You laugh, fully and heartily, unable to take your eyes off of the man paying reverence to your body. “Eddie, get up,” you chastise teasingly, stumbling a little as he clings to you harder. “And give me back my panties.”

Eddie pouts, lower lip jutting out in anticipated protest. “But–”

“I have to go grocery shopping,” you tell him, trying to reach into his back pocket to grab at the lacy fabric sticking out, but he shifts away too quickly. “You want me walking around Bradley’s all exposed?”

A mischievous grin spreads across Eddie’s face, activating the dimples in his cheeks. “Well…”

You cross your arms over your chest, snug underneath your breasts. “Really? What if I have to bend down to get, I dunno, peanut butter? And then some random guy–or maybe someone we know, like Jason Carver–” your nose wrinkles, disgusted at the mere mention of his name, “what if he gets a glimpse of–”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Eddie huffs, standing up as he tosses it over. You triumphantly slide them back up your legs, feeling your cooled slick from earlier in the afternoon against your core. “But only because I don’t want anyone else seeing what I get to see.” He delicately bites your earlobe, well aware that if he continues down this path, he’ll be hard again.

You shiver at his subtle possessiveness, fighting the temptation to undress him and beg for him to be inside you again. The desire is so overpowering that you almost forget the second reason you’d stopped by the store this afternoon.

“Eds? Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Shit, baby,” he laughs, snaking a hand up your shirt as he sucks on your neck, “I’d give you a fuckin’ kidney right now if that’s what you wanted.”

“‘M serious,” you press, hoping his doesn’t notice the way your voice catches in your throat. His thumbs center on your bra cups, caressing the underwire and letting his fingers slip underneath. “Th-There’s this teacher appreciation luncheon that the PTA is hosting, and we can bring a date.”

The unspoken remainder of your question bears a hefty implication: a public confirmation of a relationship previously only fueled by the small-town rumor mill.

Eddie is unfazed by your hesitance, enchanted by the soft skin below his calloused palm. He’s determined to memorize it, each dip and curve and the way you fit perfectly in his hands. “When is it?” His breath tickles your exposed neck. He doesn’t wait for a response before adding, “I just have to ask Wayne to watch Harris.”

“Saturday. A-A week from yesterday.” You swallow your nerves, wondering if he’s going to pick up on the reason behind your anxiety. If he’ll feel it, too. “But there’ll probably be some parent volunteers there, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You grimace at the thought of him walking into the room, shell-shocked when he sees their unwelcome sneers. “They need a final headcount tomorrow,” you don’t add that the invitation had been sent earlier last week, and you’d been putting off asking until the last possible minute, “but if you can’t, or you don’t want to–”

He interrupts your rambling with a kiss, sloppy in its urgency. “I don’t care if Mrs. O’Donnell herself shows up. I want to go.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I’d love to be your date. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he grins, conspicuously adjusting himself over his pants, “one of us has to work.”

You swat at his backside, hitching your purse over your shoulder and smoothing down your skirt again. “Need anything from the store?”

It’s an innocuous question; you’ll just add whatever he says to the list you’ve scribbled on a piece of scrap paper, safely tucked away in your bag. To Eddie, it’s enough to tug on the corners of his lips, which he tries to hide by scratching at the shadow of stubble on his cheeks. It creates an image of the two of you sharing a home, Harris sitting at the kitchen table with a bowlful of cereal, as you prepare to do the family shopping. Or maybe the three of you would go together, Harris helping push the cart while scouring the shelves for whatever sugar-laden junk food he’s obsessed with that week. Later, Eddie would lean over to grab a bag of apples from the produce department, hand gently brushing along your back as he does it. He doesn’t care who sees; hell, he hopes everyone notices the way you allow him to touch you so casually. No shame, no pretending. You might even intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, claiming him in your own way.

“Nah, baby, ‘m good,” he tells you, chuckling when you shoot him a knowing look. “Fine, Harris could use some more mac and cheese. Whatever’s on sale.”

You make a mental note to pick up a few boxes, lips gingerly kissing Eddie’s nose like a butterfly perched on a daisy.

Eddie watches the sway of your hips as you leave his office, fingertips pressing into his desk as he wracks his brain to determine how he’s managed to conjure up the luck to be with you. He’d always assumed that he’d never find someone who understood his unconventional experiences, who recognized the puzzle of emotions that accompanied those memories.

He hadn’t considered the prospect of meeting you: a person who not only saw his brokenness, but the whole parts of him, too. A man who loved his son with a fierceness that envied a mother bear’s, whose passion for music kept him afloat during the most trying years of his life, who couldn’t quite turn his back on his dreams despite the entire world seemingly persuading him to do so. You saw the good and the bad and loved him for all of it.

He certainly never thought about what it would feel like to love wholly. He recalls the fateful night in the emergency room, when he began to realize the lengths you went to for the people you cared about. The time he’d burst into your classroom after the conference with Ms. Marion, and despite his previous pattern of behavior, you’d comforted him and offered to spend your free time tutoring Harris. Even the gig when he saw you for the very first time and let his lust lead the way, fate had the last laugh when you fell asleep in his arms like you were made to fit there.

And then there are the less-than-ideal parts of you. The way you keep your feelings bottled up until they boil over in a flood of emotions that Eddie is still learning to sort out. The way you forget to take care of yourself in favor of looking after others. The way you believe you are simultaneously too much and not enough, allowing your insecurities to stampede over any and all logic.

It’s what makes you human, what makes you you. And Eddie loves you even more for letting him see that side of you.

If loving someone fully–and being loved fully–means confirming the gossip about the teacher and the freak, he’ll do it one hundred times over for you.

Your phone rings mere minutes after you finish packing away the groceries. Food shopping on Sundays is always the worst; stores are overcrowded, filled with parents and children losing their patience, and you’re fairly certain that you spent more time waiting in line to pay than you did actually perusing the aisle. You pluck the ripest banana from the bunch and peel it as you cradle the receiver between your cheek and shoulder. “Hello?”

“Hi, baby.” Eddie’s voice is honey-dipped on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Eds.” You lean up against the wall, body already feeling lighter. “You and Harris’ll be glad to know that I have secured the macaroni and cheese.”

There’s a sound of movement from his side, and you hear him say, “Har Bear, Ms. Sweetheart got your mac and ch–hey, give me that–”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris bellows, and you instinctively move the phone from your ear at the sudden noise. “When are you gonna come to my house and play?”

You laugh, struck by his enthusiasm. “Soon. I promise,” you tell him, meaning every word. Your heart swells at the thought of you, Harris, and Eddie working together to construct a Lego building, both Munsons deep in concentration with their tongues poking from their mouths. “Can you put your dad back on the phone?”

“Okay!” he chirps. “Bye! Love you!”

“Love you, too, Har.” You’re fairly certain that he’s already dashed out of the room, never one to sit still for long, but it occurs to you that he doesn’t even need to hear you say it back. He just knows that you love him in the way that you keep a smile on your face as you gently help him sound out new words, or chase him around the playground until you’re both winded from giggling and running, or share in his excitement at any accomplishment.

Eddie clears his throat when he gets on the line. “So, uh, I forgot to ask–what am I wearing to this luncheon thing?” He’s praying that it’s nothing too upscale; new clothes are not exactly within his budget right now.

To his relief, you say with a teasing lilt in your tone, “A button-down shirt and some jeans without holes in them, if possible.” You take a small bite of fruit, chewing as you speak. “Sneakers should be fine.”

“I can manage that,” he laughs. He doesn’t want to end the conversation yet, so he chooses to ask the first question that comes to mind. “Whatcha eating?”

“Banana.”

“Shit.” He clutches the phone cord in his hand, nearly yanking it out of the jack. A long exhale shoots static through the receiver. “Don’t do this to me.”

It takes a moment for you to figure out what this is. “Eddie Munson,” you start, not even trying to mask your amusement, “are you getting turned on because I’m eating a banana?”

“And now you’re making fun of me? In my hour of need?” He tuts softly, making you laugh even harder. “Evil, evil woman.”

“That’s me. I’m just the worst.” You take another bite to knowingly torture him.

“The absolute worst.” Eddie amends. He tucks his thumbnail between his teeth., incisor digging into the exposed crescent moon. His joking intonation makes way for authenticity as he says, “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.” Your voice is small but strong, so assured in your declaration to him. “See you tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll bring the coffee.”

The buzzer rings promptly at noon on Saturday, just as you’re swiping on a final coat of lipstick. You take a look in the mirror, giving a quick twirl as your green lapel floral button-up dress flows out around you and recentering the heart pendant on your necklace.

Your Mary Jane Doc Martens are loud on the floor as you shuffle to let Eddie in. There’s no denying the way your stomach flip-flops with excited anticipation. You’ve seen him dressed up before: at Grandma’s funeral, on your Valentine’s Day date, but the sight never gets old.

He’s standing in the doorway, looking every bit as delicious as you’d imagined. His maroon button-down is neatly tucked into black jeans, cuffs rolled to his elbows and showing off his myriad forearm tattoos. He’s freshly shaved, and you can see a tiny red speck where he’d accidentally nicked himself with the blunted razor this morning.

“What d’you think?” he asks, spinning around in a way that’s almost identical to the 360-degree view you’d gotten of yourself. “Harris said I look too fancy, but I didn’t have time to change, so…”

You shake your head. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you tell him truthfully, arms wrapping around his waist as you pull him in for a much-needed kiss. “There’s just one thing.” You tug at the rubber band that encases his curls in a low ponytail until it slides onto your wrist, setting his hair free. “There we go.”

Eddie frowns, haphazardly smoothing down the hair that’s already beginning to frizz despite the mountains of product he’d applied in a futile attempt to tame it. “Y’sure?”

“Positive. You look more…” You consider your words carefully, “…more like you with your hair all wild like that.”

“That’s a good thing?” He cocks his head in disbelief, and you can’t help but kiss him again. This time, you let your tongue explore him as your fingers twist into the cotton blend of his shirt. His hands start on your cheeks, then gradually work their way down to your ass. A sudden grab of the supple flesh has you yelping slightly, muffled by his mouth on yours. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a laugh, the tip of his nose nudging against your earlobe. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he murmurs, inhaling the floral scent of the perfume you’d meticulously sprayed on your pulse points.

A familiar need builds at the apex of your thighs, and if your suspicions are correct, Eddie feels it, too. The temptation to undo every last one of his shirt buttons is strong, sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a blade.

Surprisingly, it’s Eddie who breaks away, though it takes every ounce of willpower to do so. “C’mon, let’s get going,” he whispers, chuckling when you pout in defiance. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that you’ve come to learn means he has something up his sleeve. “Don’t worry, babe; when we come back, I plan on showing you a little teacher appreciation of my own.”

The tantalizing scent of Italian food permeates Hawkins Preschool’s cafeteria, replacing the usual smell of freezer-burned chicken nuggets and fries. Green and gold cloths cover the tables, with the buffet from Enzo’s at the front of the room, a small crowd having already gathered to grab some food.

You spot Will immediately; he waves you over to a table in the corner. Marshall is seated next to him, offering an enthusiastic smile as you set your purse down on the bench.

“Go get something to eat,” Will tells you and Eddie, motioning to the spread. “We can watch your stuff.”

Eddie needs no further convincing; Enzo’s has been considered a delicacy for the Munsons since it first opened. He can probably count the number of times he’s eaten there on one hand. You watch as he eyes the options, silently calculating how much he can fit on his paper plate.

“Food from this cafeteria never looks so good,” you joke softly, so only his ears can hear. “Wanna take a little of everything? And we can split it?

Eddie nods, picking up a serving spoon and digging clumsily into the tray of lasagna. Marinara sauce oozes over the sides of the oversized utensil as he scoops out a hearty serving. The piece lands on his plate with a plop, and you take a step back to avoid it splattering on your dress. He apologizes quietly, but you just smile and pick up a napkin, dabbing at the stain forming on his shirt collar.

“Haven’t even been here five minutes and I’m already making a mess,” he grumbles, using the tongs to snag some chicken parmesan, much more deliberate in his actions.

You click your tongue in mock disapproval. “I really can’t take you anywhere, huh?” You fish out a meatball, sopping with sauce, from another foil tray before serving a generous portion of the house salad. “Don’t worry, I’ll eat the olives,” you tease, flicking some dressing over the pile of greens.

Eddie uses the hand not balancing his plate to grab two knives, two forks, and a fistful of napkins. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing at the bottles of Poland Spring nestled at the end of the table, “we need drinks.”

It takes a minute for you to mentally assess the situation before you figure out a plan. “Give me that,” you point to his plate, crooking your finger and motioning towards yourself until he hands it to you. “Now you can get the water.” Your conscience tugs at you, aware that this goes beyond beverages and some spilled sauce. “Hey,” you say softly. If you weren’t holding two full plates, you would rest your palm on his bicep and give it a squeeze. “It’s just you and me, okay? Everyone else is background noise.”

“Yeah,” Eddie smiles tightly, wedging the two bottles between his elbow and his ribs. Background noise is the perfect description, considering that you’re the melody that plays on a loop in his brain, yet he never gets tired of hearing it. His internal song had been entirely composed of bass notes, and you’re a treble clef.

The two of you sit down next to Will and Marshall, who waste no time making conversation.

“So, Eddie,” Marshall starts, twirling spaghetti around his fork, “I know these two wrangle kids all day; what do you do for a living?”

“I manage Rock Records, over on Porter,” Eddie says, chest swelling with pride. Selling for Rick required him to pretend like he was unemployed or ‘between jobs,’ often earning him judgmental side-eyes. Now, he can answer honestly and without shame. “What about you?”

Marshall chews and swallows before answering. “I’m in sales at Bell Atlantic, but, uh,” he reaches over and takes Will’s hand, “I’m thinking about moving to Hawkins, so I’ll have to find something new, unless I want to commute to Indy every day.”

You lean over the table to wrap Will in a hug. “Congratulations!” you exclaim, eyes bright with excitement. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

“It’s not official yet,” Will clarifies, though he readily accepts your embrace, “but we can start the process once Marsh gets a job here.”

Eddie rubs his jaw thoughtfully, using the side of his fork to slice the meatball in half, then half again. “Sales?” he repeats, spearing a piece of food. “I think our sales department is hiring, actually. If you give me your resume, I can push it through.”

Both Marshall and Will light up at the idea, beaming from ear to ear. “That would be amazing!” Will chirps.

“Thanks, man,” Marshall says gratefully. You can see the gears turning in his head as he pictures his future with Will coming to fruition. “I’d really appreciate that.”

“‘Course.” Eddie swipes his tongue over the sauce in the corner of his mouth and smiles. “When you find someone who’s willing to stay in this town for you, you gotta hang on to them.” His fingers drape over yours, thumb grazing your bare ring finger. “Trust me.”

Your body warms at his touch, sunshine radiating through you from the inside. You want to remind him how absurdly easy he is to love, that you’d live anywhere as long as you could guarantee falling asleep in his arms each night. If you could bottle up the fuzzy feeling that you get every time he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing purposeful kisses along the nape, you would do it in a heartbeat.

A peal of cruel laughter hooks into you, unwillingly drawing your attention from the conversation to the woman standing off to the side. She speaks as though she’s trying to talk under her breath, but you know that you’re meant to hear her. “Told you, Steve: the teacher and the Freak,” she says with a smirk that you’re tempted to smack clean off of her face.

Your fingers clench around your fork so forcefully that it threatens to snap in half. The fact that anyone could be in their third decade of life and still build themselves up by cutting others down is absurd to you, perhaps because you spend most of your time teaching children the importance of intentional kindness.

Adrenaline surges through your veins in a classic battle of fight versus flight as you weigh your options. You could release the scream that you’ve trapped in your throat, throttling her with a barrage of hurtful words until she’s a sniveling mess. It’s too tempting, and you would have a difficult time talking yourself out of it if she wasn’t your student’s parent.

You could act like you hadn’t heard her, as improbable as that possibility is. It’s certainly the more mature decision, and one that would ensure your job security, but that just fuels the brewing anger with the knowledge that Carol would win whatever messed-up game she’s playing.

Eddie sits next to you, facing a similar silent dilemma. He could turn heel and run, storming off in a fit of fury, assuring himself that you’d be fine with Will and Marshall. He could shrink into himself until the moment passes and Carol moves onto a new target. He could leap on the table like he would have back in high school, make a scene and embarrass the hell out of everybody–but that would include you, and that’s the last thing he wants to do.

He can tell by the way your jaw goes rigid that you’re holding back, that you’re trying to remain professional. An involuntarily grin twitches on his lips as he thinks about you eschewing all maturity and absolutely laying into Carol. He knows you can’t do that, as much as you both want to.

But he can.

“So glad you could take a break from cheating on your husband to be here, Carol.” He keeps a bright, innocent smile glued to his face as he feigns enthusiasm. You have to bite your lower lip to stifle a cackle; out of the corner of your eye, you can see Will covering his mouth and nose to keep from spitting out the sip of Pepsi he’d just downed.

Carol’s face blanches, obviously not expecting Eddie’s retort. Steve Harrington wasn’t either, and the “ha!” that escapes him is evidence of it. When Carol shoots death glares at him, he just shrugs, raising his brows as if to say, if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

With a muted string of swear words that none of you care to decipher, Carol huffs and stomps off. Steve glances for a moment, rolling his eyes at her theatrical display. “Sorry about…” he gestures vaguely at her sulking form as she whines to another parent unlucky enough to be in her warpath. “Anyway, um, my wife is at home with Josh, but we’re so grateful to both of you for everything you’ve done for him.” He gives a half smile, nodding at you and Will. “Not just with, like, school stuff, but teaching him how to play with other kids without it turning into a WWE Smackdown.” He sucks his lips to his teeth and shakes his head with a small laugh.

“That’s our job!” you chirp, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, still riding the high of watching Carol slink off, proverbial tail between her legs.

“Well, it means a lot,” Steve continues, pink tinging the apples of his cheeks as he confides, “especially because he’s going to have a little brother or sister in a few months. He was actually telling us how he’s excited to share his toys with the new baby. We thought Hell was freezing over.”

Pride swells up in Eddie's chest while he rubs your upper back; a small gesture with incalculable meaning. That’s my girl, he muses, eyes widening when you scoot into him so his arm drapes over your shoulder. You lace your fingers with his and pull them down so they graze your bicep as you continue talking with Steve, as natural as can be. No shying away, no denying the existence of the teacher and the Freak. You claim Eddie as yours, and a soft kiss to your temple claims you as his.

The conversation with Steve ends shortly after that, and you congratulate him again on the upcoming addition to the Harrington family. You, Eddie, Will, and Marshall decide to head out once you’ve finished eating.

“Thanks again, man,” Marshall says as he shakes Eddie’s hand. “I’ll swing by on Monday with my resume.”

“Don’t mention it.” Eddie claps him on the back. Truthfully, he’s just grateful to not be the person receiving help. The universe had granted him chance after chance; it’s about time he’s able to do something for someone else.

Will turns to you just as you all near the double doors, illuminated by fluorescent lighting and a bright red EXIT sign. “Did you bring home the rest of the progress reports?”

You throw your head back, blowing out a breath of frustration. “Shit, I totally forgot.” You rifle through your purse until you find the silver key that’s been shoved to the bottom and make an about-face towards your classroom. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you big time.”

“Just give me a special mention in your Teacher of the Year speech,” he jokes, but you catch the sparkle of admiration in his eyes at your dedication—even if it follows a memory lapse.

Eddie trails right behind you as you unlock the door, dropping the key back in your bag for safekeeping. “Sorry, babe,” you apologize, “I just need to grab the papers and we can get out of here.”

“Take your time.” He plops down in the chair behind your desk, fingers thrumming along the oversized calendar you’ve marked up with various due dates and events. “I’ll stay out of trouble. Wouldn’t want to get…punished…or anything.” He looks up at you with a knowing smirk that droops into a frown when you ignore his entendré.

He swivels around when you move from the right side of your desk to your left, rummaging around for a clip to provide some semblance of organization. “I can be the teacher’s pet, y’know,” he continues, one fingernail lightly trailing up your arm. “I’m not opposed to doing whatever it takes to get an A.” Broad hands broach either side of your waist, but you pull away to pluck a Post-It from the stack and stick it atop the reports.

It’s when you lean over to grab a pen that the pent-up tension becomes too overwhelming for him; the way your ass is perfectly framed by your dress has him awestruck. Mine, mine, all mine, loops through his head as he tugs on your hips so you’re sitting on his lap.

“Don’t mind me.” His lips slowly kiss down your spine, busy fingers bunching your dress fabric up your thighs. “You keep doin’ what you gotta do, pretty girl.”

You exhale with a tired laugh. “The sooner I get this done, the sooner we can go home and you can show me some of that ‘teacher appreciation’ you promised.”

“Or,” Eddie counters, turning your chin so you can see the adorable pout he’s now sporting, “I could appreciate you right here.”

“Eddie!”

“Yeah, say my name,” he mumbles, half-teasing while still relishing in the way it sounds on your lips. “C’mon, can’t we just fool around a little bit?”

You swoop down to kiss him, tongue discreetly slipping into his mouth as your fingers curl into his hair. His hands roam your body, already fumbling with the column of buttons down your back. While he’s distracted, you break away and stand up, leaving him noticeably hard beneath his slacks. “Nope.”

He lets out an anguished groan, but ultimately relents so you can finish your work undistracted—save for the throbbing between your legs. With a hasty scribble of your Bic pen, you label the last of the reports and clutch the stack to your chest.

“We can go now,” you tell him, and he’s standing up and practically running out the door before you can finish speaking.

Your back is turned to him while you lock up, but you can still hear him skid to a stop and blurt out, “Sorry, Mrs. Sinclair.”

Your boss’s laughter trills through the hallway, and you can feel your tension ease until she asks him, “What’s got you in such a hurry?”

Don’t say something ridiculous; nothing that’ll make it impossible for me to show my face on Monday. You squeeze your eyes shut in desperation, anxiety absolved only when he replies, “Just gotta pick my son up from my uncle’s place.”

“How is Wayne doing?” There’s a smile in her voice. “Is he still working at the plant?”

“Uh-huh. Cut back his hours so he can spend more time with Harris.” Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets and sits on his heels to disguise the tented crotch area. “A-And how’re Lucas and Erica?”

“Oh, they’re great,” Sue chirps, seizing the opportunity to brag about her children. “Lucas told me he saw you at Will’s party; he’s really doing well with his sports management business. And Erica just graduated, pre-law, and she’ll be off to Harvard in the fall.” She rests a hand on his shoulder, concern creasing her brows. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Eddie nods overzealously. “Y-Yep. Feeling great. Everything is, uh, peachy keen.” He gives a thumbs-up to solidify his statement, and you have to stop yourself from snickering.

As soon as they say their goodbyes, you shuffle over to your flustered boyfriend, wrapping him in a hug from behind, hands resting on the soft pudge of his tummy. “‘Peachy keen?’” you prod, giggles bubbling in your chest at the mere mention of his word choice. “I was expecting you to throw in a ‘jelly bean’ at the end there.”

Eddie reaches around and pulls you so you’re tucked beneath his shoulder. “You’re so fuckin’ lucky you’re cute,” he quips, but the way you eagerly snuggle into him serves as a reminder that he’s the lucky one.

Gray clouds have been threatening a storm all day, sagging low in the sky with oversaturation. The air is thick with humidity when you and Eddie make your brief walk to his car, the telltale first drops of rain staining the pavement and permeating the atmosphere with a dewy scent.

There’s a clap of thunder just as you’re fastening your seatbelt and Eddie’s turning the key in the ignition; it startles you both more than you’d care to admit, and you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The rain pours in sudden opaque sheets, dashing any dreams you had of fooling around on your drive home; all of his focus is centered on getting you home in one piece. You settle for resting your hand on his knee, missing the usual rips and tears in the fabric so you can easily make skin-on-skin contact.

Eddie grips the wheel at ten and two, keeping a steady foot on the gas pedal as he crawls along the uneven road. His tongue pokes from between his lips as it often does when he’s concentrating. Drops thwack against the sedan’s hood and drown out the sounds of the Dio cassette he’d popped into the stereo system on the ride over to the school. At this point, he could be playing Alanis Morisette; the combination of the rain and the vigorous back-and-forth of the windshield wipers is too noisy for him to tell the difference.

The fifteen minute drive to your apartment takes an additional ten, but you’re both just grateful to arrive in one piece. You both take a few seconds to pause, assessing the intensity of the storm. You’ll be soaked by the time you reach the front door even if you take off your heeled shoes and dart barefoot through the parking lot.

“We can wait a few minutes and see if it slows,” you offer, but the constant rainfall has you questioning just how long you’ll be sitting in the car.

Eddie is thinking similarly, because he just shakes his head and kills the engine. In the absence of the music and the wipers, the pounding raindrops are even louder. He practically has to shout for you to hear him. “I say we make a run for it.” He grips the door handle, and you do the same. “On three. Ready?” When you nod, he begins counting. “One…two…three!”

The doors fly open with the force of your own strength and the howling winds. You shriek as cold water pelts your skin, gluing your dress to your body so the formerly loose garment hugs every curve.

You slip your hand into Eddie’s as the two of you race towards the tattered green awning covering the building’s entrance. It provides little shelter, but it’s better than nothing as you scramble to unlock the door.

“You even look pretty like this,” Eddie muses, clicking his tongue against his cheek. “‘S kind of ridiculous, y’know that?”

“You’re kind of ridiculous,” you laugh, wringing the hem of your dress before pulling the door open. Eddie catches it behind you, holding it so you can walk ahead of him. Once inside, he shakes his hair like a dog fresh out of the bath and flicks water everywhere: the already slippery tile floors, the glass window panes, and even you. You try and glare at him, but your giddiness betrays you, already heading towards your unit in hurried anticipation of his full and unadulterated attention to your body.

You’d left the fan going in the apartment, and the chill instantly infiltrates your bones. Your arms instinctively wrap around your torso, but Eddie’s having none of it.

“C’mere, pretty little thing,” he coos, unraveling you before cradling your cheeks in his hands, nose brushing yours. “Lemme warm you up.”

He says this, but his actions have the opposite intention. His fingers fly to your dress buttons with unbridled urgency, fumbling with the hooks to no avail. He could easily stop kissing you long enough to properly attend to the task, but that’s seemingly not an option. “Fuck it,” he swears against your lips, and before you can question it, you feel a rush of cool air against your back. A dozen tiny buttons clatter to the ground as he nearly rips the dress in half, already sucking on the skin above your collarbone.

“Been wanting to do that all day,” he confesses, pushing the torn fabric down until it pools around your ankles, leaving you in only your bra, panties, and shoes. “Baby, baby, baby; you got me so hard it fuckin’ hurts.”

You can feel him, the way his cock strains against his pants like it’s begging for release. “I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, undoing his button and zipper with far more grace than he undressed you.

“If it’s lingerie, can we save it for another time?” he asks, exhaling as he gets some relief from the pressure in his jeans. “Because if you’re not naked in the next ten seconds, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

You laugh at his candor. “Nope, not lingerie.” His teeth dig into his lower lip as you cup his bulge over his boxers. “Remember a few weeks ago when we talked about our fantasies?”

“Mhm. Vividly.” Eddie smirks as his hand snakes around your throat, not gripping it quite yet, but the motion still awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

“W-Well, I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago so I could get on the pill.” Your words have him frozen in place, and he steps back to assess your facial expression.

“Like, the pill?”

“The pill,” you confirm with an excited giggle, starting on his shirt buttons to reveal the white tank top beneath. “So we can, I dunno, play pretend until we’re ready for the real thing?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head. “Fuck, I fuckin’ love you. Holy shit.” It’s not just the fact that you’re about to let him finish inside you—although he certainly has no complaints about that—but it’s mostly the way you’ve embraced his most intimate desires. He’s been conducting some research of his own to learn how to dominate a partner, waiting for the perfect opportunity to showcase his newfound knowledge. “Need you. Now.” His voice trembles on the last word despite the strength behind it.

The two of you stumble into your room, shedding your remaining clothes in a trail towards the bed until you’re both wearing nothing at all. Eddie grabs your ass and squeezes, growling in desperation. “Perfect body, Jesus Christ. Was made f’me.” His lips attach to your exposed nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over the pert bud. He switches to the other, slotting his leg between yours so his thigh presses against your core.

“Eddie, please.” You make no attempt to mask your desperation; the feeling of your slick on his upper leg would give you away regardless. “I’ve been thinking about you filling me up…just…please.”

He nods, letting you lay back on the mattress so he can climb on top of you. “You want my cum, baby?” He leaves delicate kisses on your stomach, so close to your pussy but still too far.

“Mhm.”

“Then you gotta earn it.” He’s smirking at you, delighted to watch you squirm needily. “Leaning over in front of me at the school and then not even letting me touch you?” He tuts disapprovingly. “Doesn’t sound like something a good girl would do.”

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry,” you whine, “I swear I want it.” Your breath hitches as he slides one finger inside you, keeping his other hand in a tight fist around his cock.

He strokes himself, deliberate in each motion, never breaking eye contact with you. “Bet you wish this was around that pretty little throat of yours, huh?” He increases his pace. “Bet you wish I was inside you, too—don’t touch yourself.” His sudden gruffness leaves you taken aback, and he smacks your hand away from your clit before you can even start. “I never said you could do that.”

You whimper while he goes back to jerking himself, arching your back to bring him deeper.

“Y’want more? Use those words, Sweetheart.”

“More, more, I need it.” Nothing would be more delectable than being split open on his cock, your bodies bringing each other pleasure. There’s a small pressure as he adds another finger, not the fullness you’re craving but still satisfying nonetheless. “Eddie, fuck,” you moan as he curls them both, drawing you nearer to orgasm.

You think he’s finally going to give it to you when he lets go of his hardened length; instead, he wraps his newly free hand around your neck.

And, oh, the pathetic mewl that you let out as his grasp tightens, bewitched by his display of possessiveness. You teeter on the edge of release until he permits you, but there’s no holding back once he grunts, “your pussy’s got a fuckin’ vice grip on my fingers.”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you, but it leaves you writhing beneath him in ecstasy. “Thassit, come f’me. Sweet girl, so eager that she can’t even wait for my cock.” He tilts his head thoughtfully, comically casual compared to the way he’s controlling your own actions. “Tell me: is it the fingering or the choking that’s got you like this?”

“B-Both,” you stammer; Eddie squeezes your throat in response. One ring has been spun around a sweat-slicked finger, and it carves a skull-shaped design into your delicate skin. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m–” Passionate intensity overpowers any further conversation, replacing words with strained, high-pitched moans.

“Good girl,” Eddie praises, his harsher dominance briefly fading and a softer side takes over as he works you through your orgasm. You feel the simultaneous loss of his fingers around your neck and inside your cunt, but you’re immediately distracted by him bringing his fingers into his mouth and sucking off your release. “You’re as delicious as you look.”

You smile, eyelids fluttering as your overstimulation subsides. Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as you collect yourself. “That was…” The synapses in your brain struggle to fire as you come down from the high. You prop yourself on your elbows. “Really, really good.”

His body sags with relief. “Wanted to make it perfect for you, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your lips tenderly. “Wanted to give you exactly what you asked for.”

“You did,” you promise him, shivering as you shift positions and lose the addition of his body heat. “And now…it’s my turn to make it perfect for you.”

Eddie’s about to rebut that it’s already perfect because it’s you and him drawing pleasure from each other’s bodies, when you maneuver onto all fours. “Oh, honey,” he groans, grabbing a handful of your ass, but he doesn’t broach your entrance right away. You twist so he can register the confused look on your face. “Just takin’ a mental picture for when you’re not around.” His eyes scan your body, erection throbbing against his stomach. “Mmkay, ‘m good.”

He pulls on your hips, signaling you to scoot back so he can align himself. The bare head of his cock nudging your hole has you trembling anticipatorily. Slowly, deliberately, he pushes into you. You can feel every ridge, every vein, his silky skin against your walls. “You…” he searches for a proper description but is betrayed by the blood flowing away from his brain. “Holy sh-shit.”

He’s still for a moment, just soaking in your direct warmth. His hips snap forward after what seems like eons; the fullness within you is heavenly. You could keep him inside forever with nary a complaint.

Eddie, meanwhile, is just grateful that he’s already made you come on his fingers, because he can’t imagine lasting long enough to do it again. The part of you that can still compile a cohesive thought realizes this, too, and you reassure him “take what you need, baby.”

“O-Okay.” His tone is tentative but his movements are not, finding a pace that makes his body hum. His brown eyes are glued to where you two connect, watching himself slide in and out. The soft shlick that comes with each thrust, your wetness drenching his dick more and more, is his own personal celestial chorus. There’s nothing separating you from each other anymore.

He’s addicted to you, the way you fill each of his senses in a perfumed cloud of desire. A patch of stickiness coats his upper thigh; he realizes that it’s your release trickling out of you and onto him. “Love when you cream my cock, mmm, fuck.” One hand lets go of your hip and cracks down on your ass, skin rippling under the sudden contact.

You let out a euphoric yelp, embracing the sting. Your cunt tenses around him with each plunge. “Just thinking about feeling you come inside me,” you purr. “Are you going to watch it drip down my legs? Hmm?”

Eddie shakes his head before he remembers you can’t see him. “N-Nah, ‘m gonna…” a grunt disrupts his sentence, “‘m gonna stuff it back in this pretty little pussy. An’ you’re gonna keep it inside.” He breathes in audible gasps as his pace increases. “Like my good–little–girl.” The last three words are each punctuated with a thrust.

“Want it to take s’fuckin’ bad,” he continues, the admission spilling from his lips involuntarily. “Want everyone to know that you’re mine, and only mine.”

You brace your body weight to your forearms, lifting your ass in the air to allow him impossibly deep. “Bet I’d look really good having your baby, Eddie. All cute and pregnant for you.”

That has him imagining you in the same position you’re in now, only his palm is splayed on the swell of a baby bump, your tits heavy with milk to nourish the life growing within your body. He spills into you without warning, just him crying out your name as he lets go. True to his word, he swipes at whatever cum has dripped out and gingerly pushes it in your pussy.

He flops down on his back, completely spent, not bothering to clean the rope of cum that now adorns his softening length. You rest your head on his chest, his cooling sweat matting down the sparse hairs and sticking to your temple.

“I love you,” he murmurs, fingers running up and down your arm. His lips easily find your forehead for a kiss. “You’re it for me, okay? Please don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t.” And you mean it. “I love you, too, Eddie.”

The two of you drift in and out of sleepiness for nearly an hour, safe in each other’s embrace, before he stirs you awake. “I gotta go get Harris in a few minutes,” he says, laughing when you groan your reply. “I know, I wish I could stay here forever.”`

“What if you did?”

Eddie furrows his brow. “I think that’s a little more babysitting than Wayne volunteered for.”

You swat at his chest playfully, rolling over so you can see his face. “No,” you laugh, nuzzling into his jaw. “I meant…what if you and Harris moved in once your lease is up? No pressure,” you rush to add, “but this is a two bedroom, so Harris could have his own space. I know you’ll have to think about it; I’m not looking for a decision right–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie interrupts kindly, silencing the ramble with a peck on your nose. “I don’t feel pressured. Trust me, if I didn’t have a kid to take care of, you’d never get rid of me.” He sighs and stretches, sitting up against the headboard, and you follow his lead. “Our lease is up at the end of next month. You’re the kid expert here; is that too soon to spring this on him? Will it, like, fuck him up irrevocably?”

You exhale, thinking about the best course of action. “Why don’t you ask him how he’d feel about it? Worst case scenario: he’s not ready and we’ll revisit it again in the future.”

“Are you sure? You won’t be mad or anything?” He’s treading cautiously as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He loves Harris more than anything in the world, but there’s no denying that having a child furthers the complexities of dating.

You take his hand in yours and hold it tight. “We’re a team,” you remind him, kissing his bare shoulder. “Not just me and you, but Harris, too. I love you both, and I want you both to be happy here.”

Eddie’s heart could burst; he doesn’t know whether he needs to laugh or cry or some messy combination of the two. A team, you’re a team, and teammates stick together and look out for one another and keep each other afloat in choppy seas. It’s what he’d always wanted but never thought he’d have, or even deserve.

Now he’s got it, and he swears he won’t let it go.

Eddie dives right into the subject at dinner that night, not wanting to lose his nerve. He sits next to Harris, cutting a hot dog into bite-sized pieces and making sure that it doesn’t touch the pile of baked beans on his plate. His son has recently begun refusing to eat foods that have come in contact with each other, even if he likes both of them.

“Hey, Har,” Eddie starts, carefully sliding the paper plate in front of him. “I have a question for you.”

Harris barely pays attention, too fixated on getting the ketchup out of the bottle and onto the hot dog pieces. The bottle makes a pfft noise when he squeezes it, making him giggle. “Daddy, the ketchup farted!” He repeats the motion again and again, finding it funnier each time.

“Yeah, that’s silly,” Eddie halfheartedly agrees, taking the bottle from him. “But, Harris, I need to ask you something important.” He picks up his own hot dog wrapped in a slice of Wonder Bread and takes a bite. “How would you feel about me, you, and Ms. Sweetheart all living in her apartment?”

Harris’s eyes widen. “Like, together?”

Eddie nods. “Mhm. We wouldn’t live here anymore, but you’d take Grandma’s old room, and we can decorate it however you want.”

“I’d have my own room?”

“Yup.”

This provides more questions than answers for the young boy. “But then where are you gonna sleep?”

Eddie coughs to mask his laughter, not wanting to offend Harris’s curiosity. “Um, well, Ms. Sweetheart and I would share her room.” Our room, he thinks, wiping his mouth to hide a smile at the thought of you waking up in his arms every morning.

“But you’re not married.” Harris spears a piece of hot dog with a plastic fork. “You gotta be married first.”

“Sometimes people get married before they live together. But sometimes they do things out of order.” Like meet at a bar and hook up, only to find out that she’s your kid’s teacher, and then you loathe each other until you start to fall in love. “And that’s not a bad thing.” He measures the consideration on Harris’s little face. “But we’ll only do it if you’re okay with it. It would mean we’d have to pack up our stuff in boxes and bring it to Ms. Sweetheart’s place.”

Harris jumps up from his seat, nearly knocking over the food. “I have lots of boxes! We can start right now!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie puts up a hand to stop him, chuckling as he motions for Harris to come closer to him. “We have a few weeks before we can do anything. But are you one hundred percent sure–”

“YES!”

Eddie pulls his son in for a hug, tickling his sides and kissing the top of his head. Happiness fills their home, though it won’t be their home for much longer. “I love you, kiddo,” he mumbles into Harris’s hair.

“Daddy?”

“Ya?”

“Can we call Ms. Sweetheart and tell her?”

Eddie wipes his hands on his jeans, making a mental note to sweep up any crumbs later. “I think that’s a great idea.” He stands up and practically sprints to the phone. He can’t dial your number any faster if he tries.

You pick up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart.” You can hear the smile in his voice through the receiver. “We’re in.”

taglist (closed):

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui #smut

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hooksbooks · 2 months

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This is the first of two books I bound for @renegadeguild's Tiny Books Bang.

The story is (don't) take this the wrong way by @delimeful and was typeset by @little-cat-press for the Tiny Books Bang. It's a mermaid AU of Sanders Sides (Web Series), which I had never actually heard of before. But when I saw that it was a merperson AU, this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to try it, especially after I read the story and really enjoyed it.

The inspiration is medieval girdle books, which are books whose covering material (typically leather) extended past the book to a knot that was both used as a handle when reading the book and could be tucked into the girdle when the book was not in use, thus the name.

Where my book is much smaller (it's a sextodecimo, about 2.25" by 2.75") it isn't designed to tuck into a belt/girdle, but rather is attached to a bracelet and dangles from the wrist when not in use.

When I think of mermaids, some things that come to mind are fish, treasure, and tridents, and I wanted to incorporate all three in the design. The book is covered in blue bookcloth, and then covered again in crocheted netting that was meant to bring to mind fishnets. I crocheted the netting from cotton-poly sewing thread doubled up. I incorporated a trident into the filet crochet, which is repeated on both the front and back covers. I blocked it on a piece of blotting...board? paper? It's soft and thick and meant to absorb moisture and came with my book press that started life as a flower press.

I then sewed the netting to the bookcloth covering the boards with teeny tiny stitches. It probably took twice as long to crochet the netting as it did to the rest of the binding combined, but I really like how it turned out.

The bracelet I picked to attach the netting to is gold-colored to invoke the idea of sunken treasure. Rather than attaching the netting from one end to the other, I folded both ends to the middle and attached it like that so when you have the book open it lays more nicely.

The design of the endpapers looks like looped thread, and also reminds me of netting. I secured the bookmark to the bottom of the text block and let it hang from the top, which works better when the book is hanging from the wrist and doesn't get caught in the netting. I also sewed a little starfish charm to the end of the bookmark.

Technical details:

Sewn-on endpapers

Rounded but not backed

No headbands (I think I intended to, but forgot and then decided it didn't matter enough to try to pull the cover back off)

Things I liked about this bind:

I really like the girdle-book-on-a-bracelet design, it came out almost exactly how I had envisioned it.

Things I'd like to change/improve for next time:

I wasn't 100% pleased with how trimming went on these. It wasn't terrible, but I probably need to come up with a different solution than just a utility knife and a straight edge.

Crocheting the netting really did take so long. I'm not even done with the netting that's going on my copy yet, which is why all the pics are from the typesetter's copy. Probably would not want to do netting for anything larger than this one was.

Overall feels: Loved it! I enjoyed the story, the design came out pretty much exactly how I envisioned it, overall I'm well pleased.

#renegade bindery #fanfiction #fanbinding #tiny books bang #sextodecimo #bookbinding #sanders sides

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month

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Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 3)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 13.5k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by or toward Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter being a menace, improper use of a seat belt, Dieter with a guitar, serious sexual tension, improper ballroom dancing, Dieter's mouth, blasphemy (because of Dieter's mouth), smut, aftercare, fluff, and maybe a smidge of angst

Chapter Quote: “You know you wanna do it with me. Let’s cause a scene.”

Kat's POV

On Friday, I awoke sweaty and aroused. I was almost certain I had been having a sex dream…about Dieter. That was a new experience. I was equal parts mortified and angry that the alarm woke me up before the climax.

I sat up and stretched before reaching over to grab my phone and water bottle from the nightstand, unscrewing the lid and taking a long drink as I unlocked my phone. I turned my attention to email first, opening the app to make sure I didn’t have any new marching orders from Stacia and Joe. I didn’t, but there was an email from the medical clinic indicating that my test results were now available. I figured everything was probably fine, but that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking as I logged into their portal to check. I sighed in relief as I skimmed down the page, all negative. At least that was one less thing to worry about. I closed that app, then noticed there were new Instagram notifications. Dieter had apparently posted a couple of new stories. The first was a picture he had taken of me last night before dinner. I balked when I saw the included text said “My dance partner is hotter than yours,” with the hashtag #YourLoss.

(Click pics to enlarge. More after the jump.)

That didn’t do anything to help my current state of arousal. The fact that he absolutely did not give a fuck was a serious turn on. However, I knew it was going to cause some raised eyebrows.

I sent a quick reply to the story, “Dieter, seriously?🤦🏻‍♀️😂”

My eyes rolled at his ridiculousness as I moved to take another drink of my water. I nearly choked, spilling half of it down the front of my shirt as his next story popped up on the screen. It was a mirror selfie of him sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and brown leather jacket. Once I finally stopped coughing, I audibly groaned. He looked so fucking good. Without a second thought, I took a screenshot, just as there was a knock at my door. I quickly locked my phone as I yelled “come in”, realizing too late that I probably looked like a hot mess. Dieter popped his head around the door, “Hey sleeping beauty…what in the world happened to you?”

I looked down at my shirt and rubbed aimlessly, “I spilled my water.” Because of you, you beautiful fucking tease. “What’s up?”

He looked amused, “I’m gonna go grab us some breakfast. I’ll be back.”

I gave him a deadpan stare, “I hope you found your pants.”

He snorted, “Unfortunately for you, I did.”

Fucker. I narrowed my eyes and chucked a pillow toward his face, “Shut up. Get out of here.”

He laughed loudly as he pulled the door shut behind him. I heard the main door to the suite open and close a few minutes later. I screwed the lid back on my water and put it on the nightstand, huffing in frustration as I fell back onto the bed. His mere existence was making me crazy. At least we only had two days left here because I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle. I sighed, pulling up the screenshot of his story. Something about it caused the ache between my thighs to become almost painful.

I scoffed, “Oh fuck this. I can’t take it anymore.”

I tossed my phone down beside me, then settled back into the pillow and closed my eyes. One hand sliding up my shirt to knead my breast while the other found its way under the waistband of my sleep shorts. I was soaking wet to the point that it was embarrassing. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this aroused. It was almost shocking considering it was over something so small. Or was it? Maybe it had just been building all week and was finally at a breaking point.

I fought it at first, trying to think of anything but Dieter, but my mind kept going back to him sitting on the edge of the bed, thick thighs spread wide with that smoldering look on his face. Then my thoughts shifted to his large hands being the ones touching me. Now knowing how good he was with his hands had me craving his touch over every inch of my skin. I could only imagine how good it would feel for him to massage other parts of my body. Something told me he wouldn’t disappoint.

I could feel the tension building, stretching so tight that it had me sweaty and gasping for air, but wouldn’t progress further than that. I was stuck on the edge, unable to finish. I think part of me knew allowing my thoughts to wander down this path was a terrible idea and was still fighting it. I stopped my ministrations, huffing loudly from frustration. Setting up, I sought out my suitcase to find the small vibrator I had brought. I should’ve just started with that.

After searching it out, I settled into bed again, trying to get back in my zone with light touches, working my way up to it. Now that I allowed myself to freely think of Dieter, I seemed to get to the edge a lot quicker this time. Just as I turned the vibrator on, I heard the front door open and slam shut, followed by Dieter yelling, “Food’s here!”

I turned the vibrator off and shoved it under my pillow, kicking my legs, groaning, and wanting to cry. How the hell is he back already? If I didn’t do something about this soon, I was going to spontaneously combust.

I rolled out of bed, pulling my hair up into a messy bun as I walked out into the living room. Dieter stared at me with furrowed brows.

“You good? You look flushed…again.”

Fuck. “Y-Yeah, I was just doing some yoga.”

His brows arched, “You could do that in here ya know…where there’s more space. I promise I won’t gawk…too much…but maybe avoid the downward dog. I don’t need to see that.”

I could feel the wetness on the inside of my thighs, suddenly thinking about how a little yoga session could turn dirty really fast under the right circumstances.

I shook my head to clear that thought, remembering his last comment.

“Why don’t you need to see that?” I asked.

His face turned pink as he chuckled nervously, “Seriously? I’ve already told you that you have a nice ass. I wouldn’t be able to look away.”

So, he’s an ass man. Got it. I snorted, “Well, at least you’re honest.”

My eyes raked over the spread of food that he was now pulling out of bags, “Where did you go for all of this? That was super-fast.”

“There’s a diner just around the corner. I called it in and it was ready to go when I got there.”

I nodded. That explains it. Of all days to get something quick…damn him.

We sat down to eat. It took everything in me not to be distracted by the burning urge at my core. It eventually passed as we discussed the day’s schedule. Then I had to rush and get ready to head to the studio with him. It was dress rehearsal day, which I was pretty excited about. I couldn’t wait to see Dieter in action.

Most of my day was spent standing around, watching Dieter and the cast go through the skits. During breaks he would come over to ask me for feedback. Overall I thought he was doing amazing. The way he could just turn it on and go into character fascinated me. He was so witty, and his timing was spot on. I could already tell the show was going to go well if it turned out to be anything like the dress rehearsals. I did appreciate that he took any suggestions I made as being constructive. He didn’t seem offended and even welcomed the input, giving my ideas a try on the next run through.

By lunchtime, I was beginning to feel achy. The week’s chaotic schedule was catching up to me and I had hardly taken any self-care measures to avoid it. I’m sure the pent up tension I had been feeling didn’t help matters either.

Dieter came to sit next to me at the table with our DoorDash delivery and began pulling food out of the bag as he eyed me popping two anti-inflammatory tablets.

“You feeling ok?” he asked.

I slumped back in my seat and puffed air out through my cheeks, “Yeah…I’m just getting a little run down. My joints are protesting and determined to ruin my day. I think I may take advantage of that soaking tub tonight. It might help.”

Dieter gave me a sympathetic look, “Anything I can do to help? I can go get you some herbal tea. Turmeric, ginger, and white willow bark are good anti-inflammatories. I drink those when my back bothers me.”

I was surprised he offered such a thing, but I really shouldn’t have been. The man knows his plants, of course that would carry over to herbal remedies. He also seemed to have a tendency to try and take care of me.

I reached over and squeezed his knee, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine…I think. I’ll keep it in mind though.”

He looked disappointed as he took a bite of his sub sandwich, chewing thoughtfully for a moment.

“We’ve still got a few more skits to rehearse. Why don’t you go relax in my dressing room for a bit…get off your feet…we can do the monologue run through last.”

I made a pouty face as I picked at my sandwich, “But then I won’t get to watch you rehearse.”

“I mean…you don’t have to, it was only a suggestion…just wanna make sure you're not hurting. I need you on top of your game after all.”

I smiled at his meager attempt at a joke, “You know what, I may actually take you up on that offer. At least long enough for the pain meds to kick in.” I would never admit it to him, but I was actually starting to ache bad enough that it was getting hard to ignore.

He nodded, “Good.”

That seemed to placate him for now. I did appreciate his concern. At least he showed me that he cared. It was more than Alec ever did.

After I finished my sandwich, I stood and perched against the table beside Dieter, who was now scrolling on his phone.

“How long do you think it’ll take you all to finish up?”

Without looking up from his phone, his hand reached out toward me, slipping around my lower back before pulling me into his side. His hand came to rest on my hip as he finally looked up at me from where he was still sitting in the chair.

It took me off guard, but I didn’t hate it. I responded by leaning into him and resting my hand at the nape of his neck. My fingers inched toward his curls, hesitating briefly before moving to scratch lightly at his scalp. It had to be one of the most casually intimate interactions we had ever had. I wanted more.

When our eyes met, my breath hitched. God, he’s so fucking beautiful. I could feel his thumb running across the small area of exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up, causing goosebumps to form over my entire body. It would be so easy to crawl into his lap and kiss him right now. I exhaled slowly, attempting to focus my thoughts on something else.

Dieter seemed to have been momentarily distracted too, but eventually gave me a small smile, seeming to remember that I had asked him a question.

“I’ll come get you during our next break. Feel free to take a nap if you want. The leather sofa is pretty comfortable, but I can’t promise how clean it is. No telling who has been in that room…”

I snorted out a laugh, “Noted.”

I moved to leave, but his hand tightened on my hip. His gaze turned more intense, “Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything? I’ll go get whatever you want.”

I smiled at him and ran my fingers through the top of his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. It felt strangely satisfying to do. “Don’t worry, I will. I promise. It’s not that bad, really.”

He studied my face for a moment, seemingly satisfied with my response before dropping his arm. I was suddenly feeling much better and didn’t want to leave him after that exchange, but I didn’t want to try and explain my sudden recovery because it had everything to do with him.

After that, I made my way to his dressing room and immediately sunk down onto the plushy leather sofa. There was a blanket draped over the back that seemed questionable, but I sort of didn’t care, wrapping myself up in it as I settled in for a nap. I was out as soon as I laid my head down. Hazy dreams that I wouldn’t remember followed. Only traces of the way it made me feel would remain - warm, safe, loved, and blissfully happy.

I awoke sometime later to Dieter sitting on the edge of the couch beside me, his hand on my hip giving a gentle shake. He was looking at me with a smirk as I groaned and wiped the sleep from my eyes.

“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. How you feeling?”

I moved to sit up, his hand sliding down to rest on the side of my thigh in the process.

“Better, I think. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I think we’ve both been a little sleep deprived the last few days.”

He stood, “You ready to go over the monologue?”

I laughed nervously, “I suppose. This is about to be a disaster…”

Dieter shook his head, “Nope, you’ve got this. Just focus on me and the cue cards if you need them. Forget anyone else is in the room.”

That’s easy to do. I do it often enough. I stood and followed him out to the stage, both of us taking our places. The first time through was…rough. By the fourth time, I relaxed into it some, creating a playful banter between us, which was the goal. Dieter’s facial expressions to my joking insults were so on point. It was hard for me to keep from laughing. I really hoped I could keep it together during the live shows. The fifth and final time, we managed to nail it, which left me feeling much more confident about the whole thing.

Dieter and I were standing just in front of the stage exchanging notes on our last run through when one of the writers, Judy, came over and invited us out for open mic night at a local blues club. I knew there would probably be alcohol there, so I was tempted to decline. I glanced over at Dieter with a questioning look, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Dieter shrugged, “We could spare a couple of hours, right? I wouldn’t mind getting you up on stage...” A mischievous grin was now plastered across his face as I started to shake my head.

“Nope. Not happening, Bravo.”

Judy’s eyes lit up, “Wait, do you sing?”

Dieter bumped his shoulder against mine, still smiling, “She sings and plays. She’s amazing.”

I was still shaking my head, “Dieter, no. I refuse.”

He put an arm around my shoulders, hugging me against his side as he leaned in close to my ear, “I’ll do it if you will.”

I sighed, “Now you’re playing dirty…asshole.”

Dieter snorted out a laugh as Judy grabbed my arm, “Come on Kat, it’ll be a good time. It would be amazing to see you two do something like that together.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Alright fine. We can go…but I’m not making any promises.”

Dieter bear hugged me, shaking me from side to side as he yelled “Yaaaaasss” a little louder than necessary. I laughed and rolled my eyes at his enthusiasm. Judy snickered at Dieter’s antics, “Great, I’ll let everyone know you’re coming. You can share a ride with us if you don’t mind being squished in. It’s not that far away.”

Dieter glanced over at me, a smirk on his lips, “That’s fine, Kat can sit on my lap if need be.”

Fucking hell. Why is he torturing me like this? I narrowed my eyes on him as Judy chuckled, “Cool, I’ll go gather everyone up.”

After she walked away, I leaned over to Dieter and quietly asked, “You sure this is ok? You know they’ll probably be drinking…”

He sighed, “I’m gonna have to be around it at some point. It’s inevitable.” He gave me a soft smile as he took my hand and entwined his fingers with mine, “Besides…you’re gonna be there with me, so I’ll be fine.”

His eyes crinkled around the edges as his smile grew. I could tell that he believed what he was saying. It caused butterflies to form in my stomach when I considered the possible implications behind his words.

A short time later, a group of us squished into the back of a black SUV. Dieter sat in the very back corner. I hopped in behind him. Just as I was about to settle into the seat, he pulled me onto his lap, sitting me at an angle across his thighs. He wordlessly reached up behind him with his left hand to pull the seat belt out and motioned for me to fasten it around the both of us. Judy and one other person slid onto the bench seat beside us as he wrapped his arms around my middle and hugged me against his chest.

Dieter’s proximity caused him to completely invade all of my senses. His face was close enough to mine that I could almost taste his lips. I was cocooned in his smell and warmth, causing me to melt into his embrace. I could feel his hot breath blowing against the side of my neck and hear it hitch as I smiled shyly at him. The sight of his rounded brown eyes gazing deeply into mine made my heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the world fell away, and it was just us getting lost in each other's eyes. He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth before turning his attention to Judy who had apparently asked a question.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he said almost in a daze.

“Do you play too?” she asked again.

Dieter shrugged, “I guess you could call it that.”

I smiled down at him, “He plays the guitar and sings. He’s really good.”

A smile tugged at his lips as a blush crept across his cheeks. He squeezed me a little tighter as he leaned his forehead against my jaw.

Judy clapped her hands excitedly, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

I wished I shared her enthusiasm, but I couldn’t. Dieter laughed, his eyes meeting mine again.

“You gonna have some fun with me, Kit Kat?” My brow arched. Fucking tease.

I shifted to put my arm around his neck, “Depends on which definition of fun we’re talking about.”

His left hand that now rested on my hip gripped a little tighter as his eyes roamed over my face. I could tell he wasn’t sure how to take that comment. Good. Stew on that one. One side of his lips tugged upward, “I’m open to trying any definition of your choosing.”

My jaw nearly dropped. What. The. Fuck. Is he doing? I glanced around the car, worried someone was going to hear us, but everyone now seemed engrossed in one of the multiple conversations happening between the occupants. I could feel myself relax knowing that they all seemed distracted.

He shifted to lean in closer, causing his right hand to slide up my jean covered thigh a few inches. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke in a low gravelly voice, “We gonna rehearse for a bit after this?”

When he pulled away I couldn’t help staring at his pouty bottom lip briefly before my eyes flicked up to his. I nodded, “I’m not gonna let you get out of it that easily. You still need a little work.”

He chuckled, “Right…Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

I gave him an admonishing look over the pet name as he fought a smile. We were interrupted by the opening of doors, having arrived at the club.

The club wasn’t really what I was expecting. The walls were dark, but it was hard to tell what color they actually were because every inch of the place was bathed in a crimson glow from the red lantern like light fixtures hanging overhead. A decently sized stage sat in the center of the room with equipment scattered about. The stage was surrounded by tables and plushy booths where people sat enjoying meals. A bar lined the wall on the far side, which made me cringe a little, but overall the atmosphere seemed very chill. It didn’t give off any sort of party vibe.

We were seated at a large table next to the stage. Judy sat on one side of me, Dieter on the other. I sat in silence taking in my surroundings while Dieter chatted away with one of the cast members seated on the other side of him. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and eager to engage with him. It appeared that whatever damage he had caused during his previous time with them had been repaired. It made me happy that he was making progress in that area because I knew how worried he had been about it.

A server soon appeared and began taking everyone’s drink order. To my surprise, not a single person ordered alcohol. I briefly wondered if that was something they had discussed as a group beforehand or not. Either way, I appreciated it. Dieter was still chattering away so I’m sure he hadn’t even noticed.

I had just started flipping through the menu when, without a word, Dieter grabbed my chair and pulled me closer to his side. I looked up at him with furrowed brows. He gave me a cheesy smile as he rested his arm along the back of my seat, “I didn’t get a menu. Gotta share. What are we getting?”

I gave him a disbelieving smile and rolled my eyes, tilting the menu toward him so he could look at it with me. By this point in the week, we had gotten into the habit of picking out meals that we both wanted to try so we could sample each other’s dishes. I settled on the blackened chicken carbonara while he went with a Cajun chicken and shrimp pasta.

After ordering, his arm remained around the back of my chair as he leaned in closer to talk to Judy on the other side of me. His full attention seemed to be on her, yet his fingers had found their way to the back of my hair, lightly stroking through it as he talked. I tried to be present during their conversation, but it was hard to focus on anything other than his soft touch. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what the hell they were talking about.

Our attention was soon drawn to the stage as open mic night got underway. The host of the evening, Brian, was already badgering people to go sign up before it even started. Before he introduced the first performer, he caught sight of Dieter sitting in front of the stage. He stopped mid-sentence and changed course, “OH Damn, we got Dieter Bravo in the house tonight y’all!”

His eyes shifted to me as the room whooped and whistled, “AND Kat Stamos is here too! Y’all shouldn’t have sat next to the stage. Imma be giving you hell all night.”

We all laughed, but I felt like I was dying inside just a little bit. I hated being the center of attention like this. Judy took that moment to yell out, “Get them up on stage!” Fucking hell.

Brian’s eyebrows arched, “Oh you guys gonna perform for us?”

I shook my head as Dieter tried to laugh it off. He must have sensed my nervousness because his free hand found its way to my thigh and squeezed gently.

Brian laughed, “I’ll come back to you later. I’m not lettin’ that go.” Everyone cheered. Fuck. This is not how I saw the evening going. The host finally moved on to introducing the first performer just as our dinner was served. Aside from taste testing each other's food, we ate mostly in silence, enjoying the soulful blues performances taking place mere feet from us. I thought we had escaped the wrath of Brian, but I was wrong. Just as we were finishing up, Brian was back on stage asking if anyone wanted to fill the next open slot. When no one came forward, his eyes focused on us.

“A little birdy told me that Dieter and Kat have some hidden talents. I think this would be a good time to get them up here!”

I glanced over at Judy, who looked guilty before her nervous smile turned to an encouraging one. I felt a sudden adrenaline rush coursing through me as I turned to Dieter. A small part of me really wanted to see him sing and play on stage.

“Go on, get to it. You said you would do it,” I teased with a smile.

He shook his head, “No, I said I would, if you did. You gotta come too.”

He stood up, which seemed to get the crowd riled up further, “Come on Kit Kat. You know you wanna do it with me. Let’s cause a scene.”

I laughed. This is NOT what I wanna do with you, sir. I puffed air out of my cheeks. “Fine…but you owe me a solo performance too.”

“You let me pick the song and I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he replied with a dimpled smile. Fucker. I couldn’t pass that up.

He grabbed my hand, tugging me up out of the seat. The cheers in the room were almost deafening as he pulled me up onto the stage. He grabbed one of the acoustic guitars from the stand, taking a minute to strum and tune it as he chatted with the house band. Brian walked over and offered me a wireless mic before disappearing. The handle felt slick in my sweaty palms as I turned toward Dieter who was moving toward the mic stand in the center of the stage. He gave me a sneaky grin as he worked to raise the stand to his height. I smiled at him nervously as I raised my mic to speak, “Alright Bravo, what's it gonna be?”

Dieter was still smiling at me as he strummed a couple bars of the opening notes, waiting for my realization to kick in. It didn’t take long. It was the song I had been humming along to on Wednesday. The one he said that he wanted to hear me sing right before we had the almost kiss, or whatever the hell that was. I chuckled, rolling my eyes at him. He turned to his mic, “I hope you’re ready to have your minds blown by this beautiful and talented woman standing on stage with me.”

I could feel the heat creeping up my cheeks as the audience responded with whistles and applause. I couldn’t help hiding behind my hand. I could hear Dieter’s deep rumbling laugh through the sound system. It vibrated through every inch of my body as I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what we were about to do. I had sung in front of crowds before, but that was during family gatherings. This was different, almost daunting. Especially since I knew videos would inevitably find their way online for the world to see.

Dieter turned toward me and leaned in to ask, “You good?”

I gave him a nervous smile, taking another deep breath as I nodded.

“Focus on me if you need to,” he said. I nodded again.

He bumped his shoulder against mine, “Ok, here we go.”

I watched as his thick fingers began to pluck out the opening notes to Blood on a Rose. My eyes met his sultry gaze just as the words to the first verse left my lips. 🎶 (Song link for reference)

Your voice in my ear / The world disappears / So I'll fall again / You can keep me right here / Haunting my soul / A beautiful thorn / You rapture my heart / Leave me broken and torn

The lyrics were suddenly taking on a new meaning for me. He WAS haunting my soul, and I was torn between keeping things professional and completely losing myself to him. I was inching closer to him now, singing only for him. We had seemingly become completely entranced by each other as I moved into the chorus.

This love is killing me / The pain must be part of the cure / It's so hard to breathe when I need you so bad that it burns / You are the fire, love is the blood on a rose

I felt every word of it. This game we were playing had turned into nothing short of torture. My desire for him was reaching a new peak as the electricity crackled between us like it never had before. We were connecting in a new way that suddenly felt more intimate than the dancing. Maybe because we could both sense that there was some truth to the lyrics. I couldn’t keep myself from reaching up to brush the curl away that had fallen down over his forehead, then settled my hand on his cheek as I began the next verse.

Lost in your eyes / These ties that bind / Body and soul / Leaving nothing behind / Don't know how to stop / Don't know how to stay / These chains might break / But you like it that way

And lost in his eyes I was. I don’t think either of us had broken eye contact since the first note of music sounded. We were standing so close together by the time I went into the next round of the chorus that I could have easily leaned in to kiss him if there hadn't been a guitar between us. After a short building instrumental interlude, he shifted, angling the guitar in front of me. He leaned in toward the mic just as I started the final two refrains of the chorus and joined in.

The rush that I felt from his closeness was insane. My entire body was tingling and covered in goosebumps with his face now inches from mine, our gazes still locked as he belted out the words, harmonizing perfectly with me. Sharing this moment and this part of myself with him was waking something up inside of me. A craving unlike anything I had ever felt, and he was the only one that could satisfy it.

When the song ended, we just sort of stared at each other for a few beats as applause and cheers broke out around us. He smirked as he pulled me into his side and kissed me on the cheek. Just as I pulled away, the crowd began to chant “One more!”. I laughed, shaking my head as I raised the mic to speak, “I think the next one is on Dieter. I’m done.”

Dieter gave me his best sad puppy dog look. I shook my head again, “Nope. I’m done. It’s your turn.” He rolled his eyes as I turned to exit the stage, receiving praise as I went. I politely smiled in thanks, moving to take my seat at the table directly in front of where Dieter was now standing.

I could see that he was feeling anxious as he fidgeted with the guitar strap, then adjusted the mic, “Well, I don’t have Kat up here to make me look good anymore.” He laughed nervously, “So, you all better take it easy on me.”

The audience filled with quiet laughter as he turned around, briefly speaking with the house band one more time before returning to the mic. His voice started with the music, slow and deep. Bluesy guitar riffs intermingling with his somber tone. Every word was laced with emotion as his eyes focused on me.

🎶 (Song link for reference)

Bright lights with the side of passion / Nightlife, welcome the attraction / Her satin gloves wrapped all around / She lift me up, then, she knocked me down / I fell in love, she showed me how / She takes a puff and it's curtains now

I was happy to be sitting, because my legs would have given out on me if I hadn’t been. He was literally taking my breath away. This was way more intense than the first time I had seen him sing. I could feel it in my bones - in every cell. I couldn’t handle how fucking perfect and beautiful he was.

Judy grabbed my arm, “I had no idea he sounded like this. He’s so fucking good!”

All I could manage was a small nod, not taking my eyes off him as he transitioned to the chorus.

She drives a camera crazy / I think she knows it / There ain't no one above her and she ain't afraid to own it / The glitz and glamor slay me / But is it hopeless? / This goddess of a woman really gets the people going / Close up, zoom out / From every angle, yeah, she lay me down / Choked up, no doubt / She hard to handle, but she'll keep you 'round

His anxiety appeared to have dissipated. He now seemed slightly cocky even. The rawness and passion in his voice was seriously doing something to me. My thighs were now clenching together under the table. The ache at my center went from zero to painful in an instant. I sighed. This may very well be what finally breaks me.

As he moved into the second verse, something about his expression changed. It was more playful as he fought a smirk, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip during the brief lyrical pauses. His eyes were borderline seductive as he continued to focus on me. Something told me he knew what he was doing, and that thought only made me squirm more. I couldn’t help questioning his song choice. I found myself wondering how much truth was behind the lyrics.

Might bite when they call for action / Shines like she'll evoke reaction / I feel it jump, heart starts to pound / She pulled the plug, really show me now / We fell in love, she showed me how / Hands are cuffed as I slowly drown

By the time he hit the chorus again, he was in full performance mode - sliding the guitar behind his back and gripping the microphone between both hands with confidence. It had to be one of the hottest things I had ever seen. A confident Dieter seemed to be my new weakness.

Everyone in the room collectively lost their minds when he finished. I could hear murmurs around about how amazing he sounded and how surprised everyone was by his talent. He was shocking people left and right this week and I was loving every second of it. I was proud of him and suddenly understood the urge of wanting to show him off. He was MY dance partner after all. If he could use that as an excuse, then so could I.

After a shy “thank you” to the audience, Dieter rejoined us at the table and was met with fist bumps, claps, and pats on the back. He had a dopey grin on his face as he finally sat down beside me. When he noticed me looking at him, his demeanor shifted, seemingly unsure of himself now. I gave him a comforting smile, reaching to lace my fingers with his.

“You did such a good job. I’m a little speechless.”

He huffed out a relieved chuckle, shifting to put his arm along the back of my seat as he leaned in next to my ear, “You were amazing. I could listen to you all night.”

It was my turn to be embarrassed. I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, but I still managed to pluck up the courage to ask, “Those were some interesting song choices. Why did you pick them?”

Dieter leaned back into his chair and took a drink of water with his free hand, seemingly weighing his response. He finally shrugged, “They seemed to fit the mood of the evening.”

He’s being cryptic with that answer. My brows pinched together, “What does that mean?”

A cocky grin spread across his face, “You tell me.”

My mouth opened to speak, then snapped shut. I don’t know what to do with that. What is he insinuating?

We were suddenly interrupted by two younger women who asked to take a selfie with us. We agreed, of course. After they spent a few minutes fawning over us, they thankfully left. Dieter immediately turned his attention back to me, smiling as he draped his arm back around my shoulders.

“I’m almost afraid to check social media after this gets out. You know there’ll be videos,” I said.

He snickered, “Well, let’s beat them to it. Story time!”

Dieter shifted to pull out his phone and snapped a quick selfie of us, then posted it to his Instagram story with a smirk. I’d have to check to see what ridiculousness he added to it later. After setting his phone down on the table, his hand found its way to my thigh and rubbed gently as he asked “When do you wanna head back?”

His gaze locked with mine as I reveled in the sensation from his touch. The thigh touching was new, he did it so casually now and I was loving every second of it. I wanted more.

“Umm, lemme run to the ladies room, then we can go,” I finally said.

Judy’s attention was drawn to me as I got up. I motioned that I was going to the bathroom which prompted her to stand and join me. We had to wait in line for several minutes, quietly chatting amongst ourselves as we did so.

“I’ve gotta say, Dieter has shocked us all this week. He’s like a completely different person. He’s actually been pretty amazing to work with,” she said.

I smiled, “Yeah, I know he’s been working really hard. He was excited to be asked back.”

“I’ll admit, a lot of us were not happy about him coming back at first. He was an absolute asshole last time…when he wasn’t trying to get laid that is. He was a mess.”

That probably shouldn’t bother me, but it sort of did. I had to remind myself that he hadn’t kept his past a secret. I knew he used to sleep around. Maybe it was just starting to hit me differently after the Alec thing.

“Being sober has done him good though. I think you're having a positive impact on him too. He seems much more relaxed when you're around,” she added with a knowing look in her eyes.

My brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “I dunno. He just appears to be…happier maybe? You seem very in tune with each other.” She leaned in closer, “I’ve gotta ask…because I honestly can’t figure you two out…Do you have something going on? Like…are you together?”

I scoffed, “No. Absolutely not. I mean, sure, we’ve gotten close…I understand what he’s going through because my dad had the same issues…And this show and all the drama that comes with it is putting us through the wringer. We’ve just become good friends through all of it.”

She didn’t look convinced, “All I’m gonna say is…he was tryin’ to get with anyone that would give him the time of day last time he was here. Now, he only has eyes for you. That man is one hundred percent into you.”

I laughed nervously, “No he’s not. It’s not like that with us.”

She gave me a doubtful look as she moved to take the next open stall, “If you say so, honey.”

I stood there, a little dumbfounded for a moment. Maybe I wasn’t imagining things?

I tried to put Judy’s words out of my mind as I walked back to the table. I was still trying to convince myself that she was wrong. Do I think he flirts sometimes? Yes. But he’s Dieter fucking Bravo. That’s just how he is. To say he only has eyes for me is a whole other level that I was not fully convinced of yet. Of course, now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t actually recall having seen him flirt with anyone else. Not even in a joking manner. That had to be because he was comfortable around me though. Right?

As I approached the table, I realized Dieter was saying his goodbyes. He turned to me with a soft smile on his face, “I took care of our bill, and our ride should be here any minute.”

Damn, he didn’t waste any time. I nodded, then turned to bid my farewells to everyone for the evening and thanked them for inviting us. Once finished, Dieter grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd to the exit where we found our Uber already waiting.

The ride back to the hotel was oddly quiet, but I could still feel a strange electricity crackling between us. Something had definitely changed between us tonight. I couldn’t keep my eyes from shifting in his direction and roaming over his profile as he stared out the window of the car. The city lights occasionally illuminated his face in various shades of white, blue, and pink - emphasizing his aquiline nose and pouty lips in a way that was making it hard for me to breathe. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could ignore the feelings I was having toward him. Being with him as much as I had this week was causing a raging monster to grow inside of me, and it wanted him. After tonight, I didn’t think I could lock it away any longer.

Once we reached the hotel, I linked my arm with his as we walked inside toward the elevators. After the elevator doors closed, his arm shifted to wrap around my waist, tucking me into his side. I was suddenly surrounded by the scent of him, earthy and woody with a soft citrus undertone. It was intoxicating and I had to remind myself not to lean in to inhale him. His husky voice broke through my thoughts, “Do you still wanna rehearse some tonight? I guess we probably should, huh?”

I raised my head to look at him, startled by how close his face was to mine. Fuck. He’s beautiful. I cleared my throat, staring up at him through my lashes, “Yeah, I mean…maybe we can just run through it a few times with the music.”

The elevator doors opened to our floor. I moved away from him to exit, “I’m just gonna run and change first. Tight jeans are not ideal…” I added with a chuckle, swiping into the room as I spoke. He nodded, agreeing that he was going to change as well.

I changed into black leggings and a matching zip front sports bra, then met Dieter in the living room. We stuck to our routine of rehearsing on the terrace. It wasn’t a cold night but being up on the top floor definitely made it a little chilly. Dieter made some sort of comment about keeping the blood flowing to stay warm and my thoughts spiraled. The fact that we were stuck doing one of the most intimate dances this week was not helping matters. I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach realizing what we were about to do while I was in my current state. I don’t know if I can do this and keep it together.

I queued up the music using the small Bluetooth speaker and my phone, then hit play on my watch once we got into position. On our first run-through, I messed up several times because I couldn’t concentrate, but we managed to make it through in the midst of laughter. Dieter was completely throwing me off my game with his new found confidence and intense focus. His hesitation with physical contact had disappeared only to be replaced by a cocky smirk and playful glint in his eyes, which was beyond distracting. I felt like he knew what effect it was having on me too.

On our second run-through, we shook off our giggles and managed to focus, if that’s what you could even call it. The electric current between us was buzzing at max levels as we channeled the intimacy of the dance. Our touches became more sensual and less playful, the looks between us now lingering, the space between us disappearing. Instead of just our foreheads touching during those more intimate moves, our noses were now nuzzling against each other with our lips centimeters apart. Every nerve ending in my body was like a livewire, shocking me where our skin touched. By the time the song came to an end, the vibe between us had completely shifted. I stepped away, laughing nervously, “Well, that one went much better. I think we have a pretty good grasp on it. Do you wanna call it a night?” I need to get away from him. Now. Or I’m gonna lose what little control I have.

Dieter rubbed at the back of his neck as he peered up at me through his lashes, the corner of his lip twitched upward before he spoke, “I dunno, I think maybe we should go through it one or two more times…at least. If you’re feeling up to it…of course.” I could feel his chocolate eyes boring into me as he fought a smile. What the fuck is this? Why does he keep looking at me like that? His words from a few days ago popped into my head, “I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.”

Surely, he’s not…no. Is he? I felt like he was trying to get a read on where I was with things. Did he feel the shift too? My intuition was telling me that if we kept rehearsing right now, something was going to happen. This whole situation we had been thrust into was setting us up for this and I was falling for it. My gut told me he was too. My head was telling me to call it a night, but my traitorous lady bits were throbbing at the possibility of seeing what else Dieter Bravo could do with those loose hips of his. I suddenly felt like everything was hinging on my response. I must have taken longer than I realized to answer him, because Dieter’s brows furrowed as my name slipped out between his lips. My attention snapped back to him as he asked, “Is everything ok?”

My eyes widened, meeting his, “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking through the ending. I’m not sure it feels right.”

He arched a brow as the smirk returned, “I agree, it’s almost sort of… anticlimactic?”

I nodded, “Yeah…I agree.” Maybe with a new focus, the tension might dissipate some. “Are you good to do another lift?” I asked.

He shrugged, his eyes were almost smoldering now, “I’m good with whatever you wanna do.”

I felt like his words had a double meaning behind them. I tried my best to ignore my thoughts as I worked through the moves in my head, “Alright, I’m not sure how to explain this…ummm…as I turn, allow me to complete the turn into your side while lifting me up onto your hip. You’re gonna bend your leg slightly for me to rest on as you dip me backward, run your hand down my side then snap me up for the final pose.”

He stood staring at me with a confused look etched on his face. I sighed, “Ok, hold on.” I moved to pick up my phone, closing my eyes for a minute to think where I had seen that move before. I somehow managed to pull it out of the recesses of my mind and quickly found it on YouTube to show him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched, then nodded, “Yeah, I like that better.”

We tried it several times and managed to get it down after some struggles and laughter. Then we decided to go through the whole routine again with the new ending. The tension between us quickly returned - pretty much picking up where it left off. Especially when we hit the first lift. From my position on the floor, I raised my legs and hooked them over the tops of his thighs. He slowly lifted me off the ground as I rolled my torso upward and hooked my hands around his neck pulling his face up to meet mine. Our lips grazed against each other this time. The position that we found ourselves in felt more intimate than it ever had as he did a full turn, and I released the hold my legs had around his waist to plant my feet on the ground. We stayed in the embrace a few beats longer than we should have but kept going after finally breaking apart.

Our lips continued to lightly brush against each other throughout the rest of the routine. This was new. We had never gotten this close and intimate during a dance. It was causing blood to rush to my aching core. There was no way we could keep this up or else I was going to burst into flames. I could feel my control slipping away with each passing second.

By the time we reached the end with the final lift I was hanging on by a thread. When I turned and he lifted me onto his hip for the dip, he didn’t just run his hand down my side. He started by caressing my neck, skimmed the center of my breasts, then down my side to pull me upward toward his face. Instead of just resting my hand on the back of his neck, it seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved upward and fisted in the curls at the nape. I could feel his heated breath rush out against my lips as he closed his eyes from the sensation, a quiet whimper escaping his throat before nuzzling his nose with mine. He pulled back slightly, allowing his gaze to settle on me. He looked dazed as I continued to slowly pull away to stand. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my fingertips until they were out of his reach.

I turned away, brushing my hair back off my face and inhaling deeply in an attempt to compose myself. Fuck, I’ve never felt anything this intense before. It was really messing with my head. He was like a magnet pulling me in. There was no way I could fight this for seven more weeks. The pull was too strong. If it didn’t happen now, it was going to eventually unless something changed.

His voice broke through my thoughts, “One more time?” He asked. His voice sounded off. Smoother and deeper somehow. Like honey and sex. I turned to look at him, his eyes widening slightly, “Or, we can call it a night…if you prefer.” He could sense my reluctance and was giving me an out. Deep down I knew he was testing me. I could sense that he wanted it just as badly as I did.

I shook my head, “N-No…one more time should do it. Our timing was still a little off. I think we can get it right this time.”

One corner of his lips tugged upward. Did I have a double meaning behind my words now? Fuck. What am I doing? We got into position as I started the music again. The last of the frayed threads that had been holding us back were finally pulling apart. After the first turn, he placed his hands on my hips and pulled my back tightly against his front. I could feel every inch of his broad body pressed against me, including the stiffness in his pants. There was no polite space there this time as I reached up behind me with my right hand to the back of his neck, grasping at his curls. His fingertips slid down the underside of my arm as his lips lowered to brush against the shell of my ear, then trailed down my neck before transitioning to the next move. I could still feel the blazing path of his mouth on my skin, even after it was gone.

Our touches continued to intensify as we got to the first lift. This is when the threads finally snapped. After I rolled my torso upright and pulled his face upward to meet mine, he stopped moving. His breathing was noticeably shallower as I cupped his cheeks and stared into his darkened eyes. Slowly leaning in further, and without thinking, I placed the lightest of kisses on his lips before pulling back to meet his gaze again. His eyes searched my face as a conflicted expression overtook his features. I loosened the grip my legs had around his waist so he could set me down, which he did, but his hands kept me pulled snugly against his chest as they caressed over the bare skin of my lower back.

He pressed his forehead against mine, I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but he was holding back. His words popped into my head again, “I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.” I realized then, he’s following my lead in this dance. I pressed my lips against his again, his response was tentative and gentle. Almost like he was afraid he might scare me away if he moved too quickly. My hands slid from his cheeks into his hair, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. His lips parted, allowing me entrance. It was soft and sensual the way he massaged my tongue with his. God, he’s such a good kisser. I had never really thought that about anyone in the past, now I realized why. There was an art to it, and Dieter Bravo had mastered it.

My thighs clenched together, the throb at my center was now unbearable. I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew there was no fighting it at this point as my hands dropped down to the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. The soft fabric was replaced by my fingers splayed across his bare chest. He leaned in and kissed me briefly before pausing and placing his hands on either side of my neck with his thumbs resting on my chin, gently stroking my face. He pulled back, his intense eyes locking with mine. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

I nodded in response, but then he continued, “If we do this…it changes everything. I-I can’t go back to the way things were before. It’s all or nothing for me.” He was deadly serious as his eyes bore into me, unblinking as he searched mine. His intensity took me by surprise, and only seemed to spur me on. I let out a shaky breath, his vehemence causing my heart to pound in my ears. I nodded again, “I’m sure.”

He must have found what he was looking for as his eyes danced around my face, because it was like a dam had broken when his lips finally crashed against mine. He was suddenly full of passion and need. His hands roamed over the length of my body as he walked us backward toward the open door to go inside. Once we passed the threshold, he turned, pressing me up against the curtain covered floor-to-ceiling window. My leg hooked around his hip as he rutted against my center, nearly causing me to come undone from the contact.

His lips made their way down my neck, but he still seemed hesitant in touching me where I wanted him to. I grabbed his hands and brought them to my breast, encouraging him to have his way with me. He gave them a tentative squeeze, before groaning against my jaw. One of my hands fisted in the top of his hair as the other moved to the front zipper on my bra, “It’s ok to touch me, Dieter. I want you to…need you to…please.” I begged through heavy pants.

He whimpered against my skin as I pulled the zipper down, his hands immediately reaching for and massaging at the soft exposed flesh as I managed to slide the bra off down my arms. He raised his head, his tongue quickly plunged into my mouth as one of his hands began to move downward at a painfully slow pace until he was finally rubbing against the spot that I wanted him most. It was my turn to whimper into his mouth now. It wasn’t enough, I wanted more. My hips bucked against his palm. He seemed to understand, moving to dip his hand into the front of my leggings, his digits sliding over my slick folds, expertly caressing and teasing me. I quickly turned into a quivering mess as he licked and sucked on my neck and worked me over with his thick fingers.

He suddenly withdrew his hand, now sliding both down my sides and hooking his fingers under the band of my leggings, he paused quietly whispering into my ear, “Is this ok?” I let out a breathy “yes” as he continued to pepper me with kisses, slowly moving down my body with his mouth as he removed the rest of my clothing, completely exposing me. I was burning for him. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before. The hungry look in his eyes as he sucked a nipple into his mouth only exacerbated the feeling.

Dieter sank to his knees, lifting my left leg over his shoulder as he pulled away from my breast with a pop. He turned his attention to kissing and nibbling at my inner thigh, dragging his patchy stubble against my skin as his lips made a fiery path to the apex. His teasing touches were maddening. I knew I wasn’t going to last long. When he finally moved to my folds, licking up the center with the flat of his tongue, my legs nearly gave out. He hummed against me before latching on to the sensitive and throbbing bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking his tongue in tandem as his hands gripped my ass and held me firmly against his mouth. I doubled over almost immediately, my hands fisting in his hair for balance. Fucking hell, how did he do that? The loud moan that escaped my lips was almost embarrassing. I somehow managed to get myself upright and grabbed onto the door facing to my left for support. I was already covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and thighs shaking from the building release. Another quick jolt of pleasure ran through me, nearly causing me to double forward again. A breathy, “What the fuck!?!?” escaped my lips. I’d never felt anything like this before.

I could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle as he broke away with another pop, looking up at me through his lashes, “Everything ok, sweetheart?”

My eyes narrowed at the pet name. I could tell he was using that word purposefully. His defiance only further stimulated my arousal. “I don’t think I told you to stop.”

That cocky smirk was back again, “Yes, ma’am.”

He dove back in, more enthusiastic than before - groaning out profane sounds as he worked. I was fairly certain he was sucking my soul out through my cunt. His mouth should be considered the eighth wonder of the world. He should be worshiped. My debauched thoughts were already sending me to hell, so why not add the worship of a false god to the list?

I couldn’t help grinding and arching into him, it felt so good it was almost painful. My release hit out of nowhere, my vision going dark before filling with bursts of color behind my eyelids. My ears began ringing, muffling all sound. The primal cry that came from deep within my chest shocked me. My whole body was shaking to the point that I could hardly stand. I could feel Dieter in front of me now, nuzzling his slick covered nose against mine with his hands around my waist, holding me tightly against him for support.

I snorted out a breathless laugh, “I think I just blacked out for a minute.”

I could feel him laughing against my throat. “Somebody was wound up tight,” he said between kisses. I knotted his hair in my hand and tilted his face upward to meet my gaze, “I don’t think I’ve ever come that fast, or hard…”

He smirked. “You can wipe that smug look off your face,” I added through a chuckle.

He shrugged as a cheesy grin spread across his face, “You know Kit Kats are my favorite thing to eat. What did you expect?”

I snorted, “You DID NOT just say that.”

He laughed loudly, “I totally did, and I’ll never not say it again. It’s too good.”

I smiled against his lips before pulling him in for a deep kiss, tasting the after effects of his handiwork. I wasn’t done with him yet. My right hand slid down through the light smattering of wiry hair at the base of his abdomen, then down the front of his gym shorts, rubbing his hard length. He melted into me as I swallowed his moans, pushing his shorts and boxer briefs down, exposing him to me. His size was as I suspected, girthy and above average in length, but not in a ridiculous way. He was perfect and I was aching to feel him. I NEEDED to feel him. I hooked my leg around his hip, encouraging him to rub against my slick center. He paused suddenly, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, “What’s wrong?” I asked.

He raised his head to look at me with a grimace, “I…uhhh…I don’t have any condoms. I wasn’t expecting…this.”

His rounded brown eyes were full of regret and maybe a little embarrassment at his admission. God, he’s perfect. I gave him a small smile, “I think I would’ve had more questions if you did have them.” He chuckled as I cupped his cheek, “It’s fine. I got the all clear and I’m on birth control…I trust you.”

His brows arched upwards as he shook his head, “I haven’t…with anyone. I swear”

I smiled against his lips, “I know…I told you, I trust you.”

He huffed out a sigh of relief, kissing me once more as he grabbed my ass and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked toward the bedroom. He continued kissing me as he sank to his knees on the edge of the bed, managing to make it up far enough to lay me back on the pillows. He hovered above me on his elbows, fingertips in my hair as he kissed gently on my forehead, my nose, then my lips. He stared down at me for a moment, his eyes full of emotion, “I just want you to know that…with you…this does mean something to me.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest from his admission. I kissed him back, deeply, before mummering a quiet “I know” against his plump bottom lip.

He gave me a soft smile, then sat up on his knees, his hands gently rubbing and massaging down my torso as he moved. His eyes followed their path, taking in every inch of my flesh. Seeing him like this, completely bare before me as he began stroking himself between my thighs, was easily the most erotic sight I had ever laid eyes on. His shoulders somehow looked broader from this angle, the muscles in his chest and arm flexed as he slowly slid his hand up and down his length. His messy curls were now hanging down over his lustful gaze, adding to his sexiness.

The way he looked at me was nothing short of obscene as he reached to rub at my inner thigh with his free hand, gently grazing his fingertips down to my ankle, then lifting my foot to rest on his shoulder. His hand continued to rub from the tips of my toes down my calf as he nuzzled his cheek against the inside of my foot. The softness of his touch juxtaposed with the scratchiness of his beard in such a sensitive spot caused a surge of electricity to course through my veins.

My cunt was suddenly aching to be touched. I couldn’t wait any longer. I surprised myself when my right hand found its way down to my folds to rub at the small bundle of nerves. My fingers briefly dipped down to collect some of the slick to smear around before continuing in my endeavor. My left hand moved to squeeze my breast. I was already feeling that familiar tingling sensation again with very little effort. Something about Dieter made me feel brazen and uninhibited unlike ever before. I never felt safe enough to be like this with Alec. I never felt any of this with Alec.

Dieter’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watched me arch into my hands. His eyes flicking up from the apex of my thighs to meet my gaze ever so often to watch me, watching him. Neither of us said a word, our connection allowing us to silently communicate our feelings and needs as we shared this moment of mutual self-pleasure.

His hand moved to caress my ankle, his thumb pressing THAT spot again just below the ankle bone, causing jolts of pleasure to shoot through me. He tucked his chin, opening his mouth to graze his teeth against the spot his thumb had just vacated, causing a new prickling sensation to creep up to my aching core. I whimpered quietly at the feeling, his gaze meeting mine as he began to gently suck the area. His eyes shifted down to my center, now watching my fingers at work. I watched as his head dipped further, spit dripping from his mouth onto his cock as he continued to leisurely stroke himself, his thumb swiping over the sensitive tip as he moved. Something about his actions made me feel feral. It wasn’t a want anymore. I needed him.

Dieter must have sensed my growing need, suddenly lowering my leg and sliding his large hands around my hips. With a firm grip, he lifted them up off the mattress and notched himself at my entrance. I watched our reflections in the mirrored ceiling as he slowly sank in, stretching me around his length. The sight and feeling of him forced incoherent sounds from my lips. He let out a loud hiss through his teeth as he sunk in to the hilt. His eyes fluttered shut as his jaw went slack, his head briefly dropping back in ecstasy. The position he put me in had opened my hips up in a way they never had been during sex, allowing him in deeper, eliciting a pleasure I had never felt.

He leaned forward slightly, tucking one arm around my lower back, causing it to arch further, increasing the friction of his movements against my center. He set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips and thrusting upward in a way that hit all the right spots perfectly. His free hand slid up my abdomen to knead my breast and roll my nipples between his fingertips causing my skin to pebble all over. He let out a quiet moan at the way my body responded to his touch. I soon found myself fisting the sheets and coming undone again before he had even broken out into a sweat.

A satisfied smile slid across his face as I clenched down around him and groaned loudly with my release, “That’s it sweetheart, let it go.” His breathy voice was deeper and more husky than I had ever heard it. It was so fucking sexy. I wanted to tell him to stop calling me sweetheart, but deep down, it was only stoking the flames further. I think he knew it too, which is why he kept saying it.

He gently lowered my hips to the bed while I tried to catch my breath. He shifted to hover above me on his elbows, somehow managing to leave us joined through it all. His fingers worked to brush away the stray hairs that were sticking to my sweaty face, his lips trailing behind them. I caught his mouth with mine, kissing him deeply as my hands wandered over his body. He began moving again, tucking his knees under my thighs to slightly elevate my hips. I arched up into him as he hit just the right spot deep inside of me. The way he moved was causing the base of his cock to rub against my clit in a way that was already making my whole body quiver and shake toward another release as my legs tightened around his hips. One of his arms slid underneath my lower back, holding me snugly against his chest, further increasing the friction as he continued to massage my tongue with his.

All of his movements seemed to be calculated. Every touch and every angle were done with a single purpose - to give pleasure, not take it. He knew exactly what I needed and how to get me there. I didn’t have to tell him, because he was reading the cues. He was working my body in ways I never thought possible and satisfying every craving that I ever had that had gone unfulfilled. Yet, he was awakening a primal hunger that I didn’t think would ever be satiated.

He began to quicken the pace of his thrusts, which finally sent both of us over the edge together. The room filled with sounds of our heavy breathing and loud moans as he finally spilled into me. Our eyes remained locked on each other through our releases. It was intimate and unexpected, making my heart skip a few beats. He wasn’t afraid to show the vulnerable side of himself as he lost control - not holding back any of his soft whimpers. I found myself wanting to see it again and again.

Dieter nearly collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck as he worked to catch his breath. My fingers instinctively combed through his messy curls as I did the same. Eventually, he moved to kiss me again, nibbling on my chin as he pulled out with a groan to lay at my side. He was quiet for a few minutes, now seeming unsure of himself as he finally spoke up, “Do you want me to leave now?” His words came out almost in a whisper, sounding sad, like it was inevitable. He didn’t look my way, instead he stared toward the doorway as he waited for my response. I could see his expression in the mirrored ceiling. He looked sad, like he was fighting back his emotions.

I could feel my brows pinching together, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Why would I want you to leave?” I asked.

His lips set into a tight line as he shrugged, “Because people usually don’t want me to stay…after.”

I shifted to lay on my side so that I was facing him. I placed my hand under his chin, turning his head so he was looking at me, “I never want you to leave me after…”

He stared up at me with his sad puppy eyes before turning his body to face mine, burying his face in my side and hugging my thighs against his chest. “Is this ok?” he asked against my bare skin. My fingers moved back to strum through his hair, “Of course it is. It always will be.”

I suddenly felt sad for him, wondering what had happened in his life that would make him ask those questions. I had the overwhelming urge to shower him in affection. I had a feeling he hadn’t gotten a lot of that, in recent years at least. Then again, I hadn’t really had that either.

I felt his hand rub up and down the back of my thigh, his head suddenly popped up to look at me, “Did you still wanna soak in the tub? I know the last few days have been tough on you. I don’t want you to be sore or anything. I can get it ready for you…if you want?”

I glanced at the clock, it was almost 11:30 PM. “I dunno, it’s getting late.”

Dieter kissed my hip, “If you wanna sleep in, I’ll go grab us some breakfast in the morning.”

I smiled, “You’re making that really hard to turn down, Bravo.”

He was massaging my hip now, with a small smile on his lips. It felt amazing.

“I wanna take care of you. Gotta keep these hips in working order,” he leaned down and kissed where he had just been rubbing as his hand slid down to grip my ass cheek.

He’s definitely an ass man. I laughed, “Ok, fine. You win, but only if you join me.”

He smiled against my skin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I stretched out on the bed, watching as he moved around the room to prepare the bath, still completely naked and confident. As he waited for it to fill, he gathered towels from the bathroom then added salts to the water, occasionally checking the temperature. Once it was halfway full, he stepped in and sat down, “Oooh fuck, this might be too hot.”

I laughed, “That means it’s perfect then.”

He shook his head, muttering out, “Nope. Nope. Nope.” Then he moved to adjust the temperature of the running water.

Once he settled against the backrest, I got up to join him, piling my hair up into a messy bun along the way. He spread his legs wide so I could sit between his thighs and lean against his chest. I scoffed, “Nope. It could be warmer.” I sat up to adjust the temperature again while he laughed. We were quiet until the tub was full. I reached to shut off the water then got comfortable against him. His thumbs moved to massage into my neck, then down the back side of my shoulders. After several minutes, the rest of his fingers joined in, digging into the top muscles. His motions elicited a quiet moan from me as my head dropped back to his chest. His fingers made their way to the front side, massaging around the base of my neck, then moved down the sides of my arms.

My eyes drifted closed, “Mmm, I wasn’t aware that a massage was part of this.”

Dieter’s lips brushed against my ear, “I told you, I wanna take care of you. That position I had you in can do a number on your neck and back.”

I sighed, “I’m not really sure what to do with this. I’m not used to aftercare.”

He scoffed, “That shouldn’t surprise me. I hope he was at least a decent lay.”

I laughed, “No. He wasn’t. He fucking sucked. I usually had to take care of things myself. He was a very selfish lover. Always wanting and taking. Half the time I just felt like his plaything to be used as he saw fit, then discarded when he was done. He typically didn’t stick around after either.”

Dieter nuzzled into my neck, “That’s a terrible feeling that I know all too well. I promise, I’ll never do that to you.”

I turned so that I could see his face, “I’ll never do it to you either…People would really ask you to leave after?”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah, I mean…it was just hookups. It was never meant to be more than that. Either they asked me to leave, or they would leave without a word. It was better in a lot of ways…didn’t have to go through the awkward morning after thing. It’s just sort of what I’ve come to expect I guess.”

I turned away, now staring at the water, “Why did you do it?”

He sighed, squirming under me a little, “Ummm, that’s more complicated. Most of the time I was so coked out I’m not even sure if I knew what I was doing. Other times, it was an escape…to feel something else and nothing else at the same time…but there was never any connection there. It was just about forgetting my problems and having a fun time.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, suddenly worried that’s all this was to him. An escape. He must have sensed it because his arms tightened around me as he leaned his cheek against mine, “It’s not like that with you. Don’t worry. I told you…this means something to me. You’re making me feel things I didn’t know possible…want things I’ve never wanted because I was too afraid.”

His voice wavered, which took me by surprise. I turned to face him again, searching his sad eyes. “What were you afraid of?” I asked.

He reached to entwine his fingers with mine on his chest, his eyes turning glassy as he stared at them, “In simple terms…rejection, abandonment, pain, loss. I didn’t feel like I was worthy of being loved. There’s a lot to unpack there, and I don’t wanna do that tonight. I just wanna be with you.”

I smiled, releasing his hand and reaching to pull his face toward mine so I could look at him. We took each other in for a moment before he leaned down and captured my lips with his. I shifted to straddle his thighs as his arms snaked around me. We spent some time making out as our hands explored each other. It never progressed beyond that. I couldn’t remember the last time I had an intimate moment like this that didn’t turn sexual. It was actually kind of nice just being together. When we finally broke apart, Dieter buried his face in my chest, and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my fingers instinctively going to his fluffy curls. He sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

I chuckled, “I honestly can’t either…”

“You fought a good fight. I wasn’t sure if you were gonna give in or not,” he mumbled out against my neck.

I scoffed, “Excuse me? You didn’t know I was into you.”

I felt his rumbling laugh, “Oh I one hundred percent did.”

I tugged his hair to lean his head back so I could look at him, “Since when?”

He shrugged, “Since last week for sure.”

My head shook from side to side in disbelief, “And here I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it.”

He laughed, “Maybe for a little while, but no, not recently…I think the water is getting cold.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah it is.”

I slid back off his thighs, then he moved to stand and grab a towel. After helping me to my feet, he began drying me off. Once he was satisfied, he tucked the towel in around my torso, then gave my ass a squeeze as I stepped out of the tub. I squealed, reaching for his towel, then turned to return the favor of getting him dry.

As I rubbed the towel over his chest, I suddenly felt shy as I asked, “Are you gonna stay with me tonight?”

He smirked, “If you want me to…I mean, I was kinda planning on it…”

Relief flooded through me. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I spoke, “Good. I wasn’t sure…”

His fingers found their way to my chin and lifted it upward so that I was looking at him, “I’m gonna be wherever you are until you tell me to fuck off.” I couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way with words.

We didn’t even bother to get dressed before snuggling into bed, tangling our limbs together and making out like a couple of teenagers. I wanted to feel all of him as I drifted off to sleep and I made sure he knew it. He didn’t hesitate to wrap himself around me once we finally settled down. It was the best night’s sleep I had had in a very long time, and I knew it was because of him.

Next: Week 5 (Part 4)

A/N: Are you all screaming right now? I'm screaming because FINALLY! Took them long enough, right? Could that build up have been any slower? Dieter was taking a chance when he asked to keep going...it was a rather delicate dance on his part. We will hear from him in Part 4, which I currently have no ETA on as I haven't started it yet. (I know, I'm SORRY!)

Poor Kat just couldn't catch a break in this chapter. Just when she was finally going to do something about her little ache, Dieter had to ruin it. He was literally driving her crazy in every way possible. 🤭

What do you think about Dieter's song choices? Was he trying to make a statement?

Can we talk about how much he wants to take care of her (and honestly enjoys it)? He's too damn cute.

Also, can we talk about the sex? Do you think he's about to give Kat some new experiences? If so, how open do you think she'll be to them?

We got some small revelations about Dieter's past. What are your thoughts on that? We have more to unpack there...

✨This chapter's video is a little different. It was made by two of the dance professionals from DWTS (who are married in real life). I love watching these two dance together because their chemistry is off the charts. They are dancing to the same song that Dieter and Kat will be dancing the Rumba too. Honestly, I think their version is better than the one from the actual music video. Give it a watch and enjoy!

Click HERE for the video.

✨THE LIFTS: I’ve included gifs for reference on the lifts. The first two gifs go together. I had to split them because tumblr has a ridiculous size limit.😒

CP Taglist: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza

@girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fluff #slow burn #closed position series

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chaoticharrington · 5 months

Text

Chapter One: Professor Harrington and Mr. Munson

***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not much...YET.. lots of smutty smutt smutt to come. Vague mention of depression/ bad childhood/anxiety , mention of drug use/ cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being hot, Reader is in their mid 20s and Eddie and Steve are early to mid 40s

Summary: Reader moves to the one and only Hawkins, Indiana and meets her sexy new sociology professor and realizes she might have a crush on her best friends dad..oops

Authors Note: Hi folks!!! this is so nerve wracking i've never really properly written for either of these characters before except in my head and reading lots and lots of smut! I really hope you guys like it, i'm really excited for what's to come for this series, I haven't thought of a name for it yet so i'm just going to go chapter by chapter but its gonna be a fucking wild ride so buckle your seat belts :) 4k words (Also older Eddie pic by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

**Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

Were you doing the right thing? Could you do this on your own? What if you failed?

Your head filled with doubt now that your dreams you’ve had since you graduated high school were now coming to fruition. You saved up all the money you could, working odd jobs for a few years after high school to have enough money to get out of your hometown and into a good college states away.

You shake away all the negative thoughts, no. This had to work you were going to make sure it worked. This is your new start, to create your own life. It had to be better than back home, where no one gave a shit about you and your own parents didn’t care enough to stick around after you graduated high school, not that they were the most involved parents to begin with anyways. Even the friends you had back home were just party related or friends of friends, you were always on the outside looking in, never properly fitting anywhere. The only reason you decided to move specifically to Hawkins was because your only real friend, Violet, that you’ve had since you were 12 had moved here 10 years ago and you’d made a pact long ago that if you ever got out of that town, you’d follow her here.

You pinch your fingers to the bridge of your nose, willing the thought of your parents and back home to go back into the little dark corner of your brain. You can’t breakdown now, not right before your first class, how pathetic would that be?

“Focus focus focus, come on you got this.” you muttered quietly to yourself over and over until the anxiety subsided. You take a deep breath, willing your lungs to fill with air to cool down your buzzing insides. You look in your car mirror to make sure your makeup still looked good and fidgeted with your clothes.

You were never one to obsess over your appearance by any means, but you really wanted to make a good first impression. You had your hair pulled up into a butterfly clip and had on your favorite dress a pair of black tights and your trusty Dr. Martens. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and grab your bookbag and get out of your car. You look on your phone to triple check that you were in the right place, the last thing you needed was to be lost or even worse late to your first class.

You’d only moved into your apartment off campus the day before so you haven’t had time to look around the town or get used to your surroundings yet. You noted that your car didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Your car was a few years old and was always something of an insecurity for you. But most of the cars that filled the almost completely full parking lot were older or used cars, which put you at ease. You head into the Humanities and Social Sciences building and check for a fourth time, Sociology 101 room E142 Professor Harrington.

The room is much bigger than you thought, chairs and desks circling the podium at the front of the room. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the room was only half full of other stressed out looking students preparing for their day ahead. You decide to pick a seat towards the middle of the room to not look too eager.

As you’re getting your laptop and books out of your bookbag you hear footsteps walking into the room and the girls behind you immediately start giggling and whispering to each other. You look to see where they’re looking hoping they aren’t making fun of you, you see them biting their lips and looking at the front of the class. You follow their eyeline and your breath hitches.

Where your sociology professor should be standing is an Adonis, he has thick honey brown hair, peppered with grey, that frame his handsome face. His skin impossibly sun kissed like he’d just come back from a tropical island and not living in Hawkins, Indiana. He smiles nervously at the class; his smile is warmer than the sun despite his nervousness, warming you from the inside out. He’s wearing a white button down covered by a navy blue sweater, a pair of grey slacks and black high top converse.

“Ahoy folks! Are you guys ready to set sail on this vast ocean called Sociology with me? I’ll be your Captain Professor Harrington!” he claps his hands, his eyes waiting and hoping for a response.

The girls behind you giggle and a few other students around the room follow suit, he sighs contently. He goes onto explaining the syllabus and assignments for this semester. The class flies by, he’s easy to listen and pay attention to, sure his looks help but he seems genuinely interested in what he’s teaching. Which is a breath of fresh air, you diligently take notes, making sure not to miss anything. Before you know it, class is over and people start packing up their things.

“Oh class before I forget, if any of you are commuters, come get a parking pass from me unless you want a ticket.” he announces to the class, most of the class you assume living in the dorms hurry out of the room.

“Because not only are we charging students tuition we are also charging students just to park on campus, capitalism at its finest folks,” he snorts, shakes his head, and walks to his desk leaning against it.

After finally putting all your things away and checking where your next class is you head up to him. Just being near him makes your heart beat a million miles a minute, like your unworthy of being in his presence let alone so close to him.

He smiles warmer and wider as you stand in front of him, “Hey what can I do ya for?” he asks brightly.

“Oh, uh, I just need a parking pass if that’s okay,” you say quietly.

“More than okay my dear!” he declared. You blush at his words while he picks around in his desk drawer for a parking pass. His nose scrunches up in frustration as the digging becomes hastier and more urgent.

“I coulda swore I put em in here… or did I leave them in my office?... shit,” he breathes.

You giggle at his disorganization, and he looks up at you embarrassed, you wondered how a man who looks like how he does could ever be embarrassed about anything. The girls who sit behind you would agree.

“I promise I’m not usually this discombobulated.. just uh first days always come sooner than I think.” he chuckles

You nod knowingly at him “No worries I can always get it tomorrow or something.” you say waving his worries off.

He looks up at you through his glasses relieved “Really? That- that would be amazing. I would go grab them from my office, but I don’t think I have enough time to before my next class.” He studies you for a second like he’s actually looking at you for the first time.

“What’s your name again hun?” he says casually, as he opens his computer and types on his keyboard.

Your heart flutters at the continued use of nicknames, you take a second to study him again before you respond. He’s hunched over his desk, typing and clicking away on his computer like he’s searching for something. His eyes crinkled at the edges with age, memories of many days smiling and being in the sun. You notice his freckles that adorn his face and neck that you couldn’t see during class. If you had it your way, you’d take your time to count them all to try and make sense of his godly beauty. And his hands.. his hands look so strong effortlessly gliding across his keyboard.

You must have taken too long to answer because he looks up at you expectantly and raises his eyebrow and smirks. You shake your head slightly trying to regain your composure.

“S-sorry first day jitters, my heads a bit scrambled,” you confess to him. You tell him your name quickly, you hoped that your cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

His eyes softened a bit and nodded and continued to type on his computer for a couple more seconds before turning to you again.

“I emailed campus security to let them know that it’s my fault you don’t have a pass and if they do give you a ticket just bring it to me and I’ll sort it out for you, okay?” he states and steps away from his computer to face you again.

“Oh wow thank you so much Mr. Harrington, I really appreciate it!” you chirp

His face scrunches up at the name, and chuckles, some of his honey brown hair falling in front of his face, his hand ready to catch them and put the strands back in place. You were mesmerized.

“Uh Mr. Harrington is my father, call me Steve er Professor Harrington works to if you don’t want to be on a first name basis.” He says kindly

“Oh well thank you regardless…Steve.” his name sounds foreign but good on your tongue. You stare at your shoes and then realize that you’ve been in here looking at your professor for far too long.

What the fuck were you thinking? He probably thinks you’re insane but is too nice to say so.

“Ya of course,” he dismisses you easily.

“Anyways I don’t wanna keep you, have a good day,” you apologize.

"You too Y/N,” he calls, as you head out the door, glad that your back is to him so he can’t see you blush again just because he said your first name.

“Get it the fuck together.” you mutter to yourself as you walk aimlessly out of his classroom.

The rest of the day goes without a hitch, you find yourself actually excited for the upcoming topics in your classes. You’ve never given yourself the opportunity to properly nerd out about the things you’re interested in.

You finally get back to your car after all your classes and groan at the sight of a ticket stuck onto your windshield.

“Fuck…” you whine

Too tired to get it taken care of today you drive home and plop on your bed. Even though your classes were super interesting, it was very mentally draining. Extra draining because you’ve tried to force your brain to focus on classes and not think about your sexy sociology professor.

Was he this nice to all his students? Did you catch him eyeing you up while you were talking or were your eyes playing tricks on you? You keep trying to reassure yourself he is just really nice. But his hands… his smile…

You groan and rub your hands against your face trying to shake all the whirling thoughts out of your head. You force yourself to think about literally anything else, then your tummy rumbles. You haven’t had time to grocery shop considering you had just moved in yesterday and your fridge was completely empty except for some bottles of water and condiments.

Your phone buzzes next to you on your bed, you open it and smile.

“BITCHHHH I MISS U COME OVER! You’ve been in Hawkins over 24 hours & ive gotten radio silence from u! ur presence is being requested in the munson household immediately!

P.S Bring food my dad is starving me over here”

“At your service m’lady, cheeseburgers good?” you respond quickly

“ur a life saver babe<3”

Your mind drifts away from your professor and the ticket that is burning a hole in your bookbag. This place already feels more like home than any time you’ve ever spent where you were born. You missed your best friend so much. Violet Munson has been your ride or die best friend for as long as you can remember. You two became friends when you were sitting alone in the lunch room one day and she came and sat right down next to you and you two have been inseparable ever since… that is until her dad decided to move her back to Hawkins to be closer to family after the divorce right before freshman year. You had been crushed getting your best friend ripped away from you like that, but then you guys made the pack to get out of dodge when you could, and now you’re here… in Hawkins,Indiana.

You change into comfy clothes and grab some cheeseburgers, fries, and onion rings from the only burger joint in town and headed over to the Munson residence. You’ve never actually been to her house before because your parents never allowed you to visit after she moved away, so you two mostly kept in contact over constant texts and lots of facetiming.

Pulling up to her house you were more nervous than you thought, you hadn’t seen her in so long and hoped things wouldn’t be awkward. You turned off the ignition, grabbed the food, and went to open your door when you heard a scream come from the front of the house. You lift your eyes to see your best friend jumping up and down on the front porch in her pajamas. Violet had long bright purple hair and thick black eyeliner, kind eyes, a wide smile, and an infectious laugh.

“YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING HERE HOLY SHIT!”

You laughed and dropped all the food in the front seat of your car and ran to meet her in the middle of her lawn and tackled her to the ground. You hugged her tight, squeezing your eyes together wishing the tears at the corner of your eyes to go away.

“Vi I missed you so fucking much.” you whisper

“Awe babe I missed you too.” she shares

You both get up off the grass and you grab the food and head inside. You set the food down in front of the tv like you used to do when she lived closer to you. You sit down on the couch and while she grabs plates. You sigh deeper into the couch, everything was just picking up exactly where you two had left off, you were gonna be okay. You smile quietly to yourself and then head to the kitchen to help her bring everything into the living room. You decide to watch a new horror movie that just came out, the two of you always bonding over everything creepy and spooky. You let Violet tell you about her partner Quinn, who she met a few years ago and was head over heels in love with.

Then the front doorknob jingled, and you heard the familiar thud of heavy boots.

“Ho- holy shit is that Y/N?!”

You turn to face the familiar voice at the door. “Hey Mr. Munson, long time no see!” you breathe.

Fuckk… when did Vi’s dad get so... hot?... what the hell is wrong with you today? First your sociology professor and now your best friends DAD?!

He grins widely at you just like his daughter, he shrugs out of his boots and walks into the living room.

“I got you a cheeseburger on my way over, still like double meat and cheese on your burger?” you question.

Mr. Munson puts a hand over his heart and falls into the love seat next to the tv.

“You remembered, I’m touched sweetheart.” he beamed.

“oh yeah no problem at all!” you blush.

“Well I’ll let you guys catchup, don’t need me harshing the vibes, Vi’s been nonstop talking about you coming to Hawkins a month!” he chattered

Out of the corner of your eye you see Violet roll her eyes at her father.

“Dad no one fucking says “harshing the vibes” anymore or at all, you’re aging yourself old man,” she chortles

Mr. Munson chuckles and puts his hands up in the air in surrender “Alright alright I’m leaving, if you guys need anything I’ll be in the garage. Thanks again for the burger Y/N!” he says kindly holding up the burger in one of his large tattooed hands.

You beam up at him happy to help, and this time you get a good look at your best friends dad. He’s aged so much better than you could ever imagine a man with Mr. Munsons lifestyle to ever age, the expression aged like fine wine captures it perfectly.

His brown hair still wild and curly as its always been but tied up into a low bun at the base of his neck. Only difference is the now visible little grey streaks that run through random curls. He has more laugh lines at the side of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Still wearing his normal garb, black jeans with loads of rips, a band tee with a leather jacket. His chocolate brown eyes still full of mischief and debauchery. His nose ring ever present but you spy a few more additions to his tattoo collection, specifically a new neck tattoo and a few more on his hands.

Fuck his hands… wait you have to answer him. Answer him before it’s weird that you’ve been staring at him so long.. you’re really on a fucking roll today.

“It was my pleasure Mr. Munson really,” you gush.

He gives you a wink that goes straight to your core and vibrates in your bones and heads to the garage.

Violet didn’t seem to notice how flushed you were, eyes still on the screen, interjecting at random times when a scene looks to fake or when the blood splattering doesn’t look real enough.

After the movie the two of you head upstairs to Vi’s room, she wanted to show you her new additions to her every growing crystal collection and a few polaroid pictures of her and her partner.

“They literally make me feel like a princess I feel so lucky, for our 3 year anniversary they gave me these black tourmaline pentagram earrings, aren’t they so cute?!”

Your heart fills with warmth, Violet has always been loud and unique, you are so happy for her that she found someone who accepts her for who she is and loves her for it.

“That’s really sweet Vi, i'm so happy you have them, and that they treat you so well,” you grin.

“Thanks… what about you though? You’ve always been very singular… looking to change that any time soon? You deserve to be happy babe, even if it just means getting laid you deserve to get some. You’re a fucking catch dude” ,she compliments

“I mean you know I had a thing with Dylan for awhile before he got back with his girlfriend...” you murmur

“Oh COME ON, you know that’s not what I mean, not some assholes rebound!” she insists

“Vi I don’t have a line down the block like you used to have, you’ve got that whole hot sexy goth girl shit going on, I’m just me.” you babble and point to your gorgeous best friend

“What about Tom? You were with Tom for a long time what happened with him?” she asks obliviously.

“Fuckin cheated on me,” you sigh. Re-living your lack of romantic endeavors to your very not single best friend being up there in the top 10 most pathetic things to date.

“Oh fuck that guy, how fucking dare he!” she sneers while she tries to light the perfectly wrapped blunt in her hand.

“Shit I think my lighters dead, can you go ask my dad if he has an extra?”

You nod and head downstairs and search for the door that leads to the garage, finally you find the door you’re looking for and the image in front of you almost makes you audibly gasp.

Mr. Munson has a cigarette between his lips hes strumming along to some metal song that he’s humming the tune to, occasionally sucking in smoke and blowing out the side of his mouth. His head bobbing to the tune of the song completely in his own world. He’s beautiful.

You look at the way his fingers move to the beat and strum the strings on his guitar, mesmerized by how pretty they are. You can see all the calloses on his hands from all of the years of playing.

Your hand moves without thinking and knocks on the side of the garage door, getting Mr. Munsons attention.

“Oh shit, hey honey, ya need something?" He questions

“oh yeah sorry, Vi’s lighter ran out, and we were trying to light a blunt, you got an extra?” You ask.

Growing up, Mr. Munson had always been the more laid back between Violets two parents, letting her test the waters herself allowing more than the normal parent would. But as long as she was being safe and not doing any hard drugs he was mostly lenient with her. Not that it mattered much now that she’s grown.

“Uh yeah I probably got one around here somewhere, come pop a squat while I look.” he gestures to the chair beside him.

Your legs wobble while you move into the garage, it smelled so uniquely of him. His leather jacket draped over the back of his chair, smoke in the air, and metal music playing lowly in the background.

His space made you feel at home, the garage door was open so you could see the sun setting in the sky, and the metal music is weirdly comforting. You find yourself tapping your feet to the beat.

Eddie went to his truck looking for an extra lighter and your eyes wander to his guitar. You can tell he really cares about it, its clean, the strings look freshly changed, and recently polished.

“Oh yeah she’s a beaut isn’t she?" He observes proudly, leaning against his car with a new found lighter in hand.

“Yeah really pretty Mr. Munson,” you remark.

He smiles at you, “Here ya go, I don’t know how much juice is left in it.” He hands you the lighter, for the few seconds your hands connect you see how much bigger his hands are than yours, it almost makes you topple over in your chair.

“Thanks,” you reply. You grab the lighter with your hand and put it in your pocket and push out of the chair headed back into the house.

“Were you always this shy?” he asks inquisitively.

You turn around to face him confused by his question, you never really considered yourself shy, it just takes some time for you to come out of your shell.

“Shy?” you reply. fidgeting with a loose string on your sweatpants, your lips in a fine line.

“Yeah..you just seem.. shy or sad maybe, you doin okay?” he presses

You sigh hard trying to find the right words to explain the last few years and what would be appropriate to share with your best friends dad. “I’m fine really, just a long few days.” you share and smile to try and make it convincing.

He clicks his tongue and you know that he doesn’t believe you, your heart sinks. You never want to put your sadness or hurt onto anyone else, you’re a big girl and you can handle it on your own. You change the subject to the empty beer glass on the table in front of him, “Need another beer?” you ask

“Read my mind darlin, thanks,” he replies.

You head to the kitchen to grab him his beer and head back to the garage to bring it to him. When you get back he’s back at it strumming on his guitar in his own world, you wish for a second maybe you could just sit in his little world with him, it’s quiet and peaceful, no thinking required. You set the beer on the table and turn to head back upstairs.

“Hey Y/N, if you need anything or even just to talk I’m around, I know I’m not Violet, but if you need another friendly face, I’m here.” he smiles warmly at you.

Your heart melts, of course he’s the sweetest man in the whole world. “Thank you Mr. Munson that really means a lot,” you blush. Thankful to have one more person in this town on your side.

You close the door behind you and rush back upstairs hoping Violet doesn’t notice how long you’ve been gone. You hear voices and giggling on the other side of the door,

She’s on the phone with Quinn.

“She’s returned! Come here I want you to meet Quinn!” she exclaims. You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, no excuse necessary. Your friendship with Violet has always easier than breathing. You spend the rest of the night smoking weed and talking on the phone with her partner, glad to have the distraction from your recent interaction with her dad.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he also just being nice? I guess he kind of has to be nice to me, being his daughters best friend. Plus he’s so out of my league, a man like him would never go for a girl like me, right?

Only time will tell.

No Pressure Tags!: (Just tagging some mutuals I thought might enjoy!) ** If you wanna be tagged in the next fic lemme know**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @munsonology @lesservillain @tlclick73 @dukesmebby @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11

#Stranger Things #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Older! Eddie Munson #Older! Steve Harrington #older eddie munson #older steve harrington #Eddie Munson smut #Steve harrington smut #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie munson x reader x Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson fic #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington x reader #Steddie x Reader #Steddie #chaoticharrington fics

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 25 days

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Law is the winner!

Source for pic

So our sexy, sexy doctor won the new poll and his story will be the next one to be featured in the meet-cute series!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Tropes: Fake relationship/only one bed. Law with very soft dom tendencies, possessive and protective.

I already have a few scenes planned but I won't be able to write it yet (I'm on vacation and time to write has been quite limited! I also want to finish the request I have for my 100 followers event and the Highlander Kid fic that's still in the works!) But I'll give you more details:

We're going to meet the sweet, quirky uncle, Cora, and the eccentric, shady uncle Doflamingo.

Doflamingo paid for all of Law's student loans, so he could get the best education ever, and he doesn't understand why Law wants to settle in some backwater town.

To try and keep controling Law's life, Doflamingo wants to have a say in who he marries, especially if he can benefit from the alliance. That's why it's so important to Law that his uncle believes that your relationship is real.

You and Law are to spend the weekend at his uncles' house for the wedding and, obviously, you will sleep in the same room which only has one bed.

Since you need to seem like you're already a couple, before going you will need to practice so you can be at ease around each other. And by practice, I mean kissing and touching. *wink, wink*

Ok, I guess this is enough teasing! I hope this got you all excited! Stay tuned! Thank you all for your love and support and lovely words!

#pandora rambles #the meet cute #one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #op #law x you

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itstheghostofmypast · 8 months

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Meow

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: He had spent an entire millennia in solitude, waiting for her to come back to him, bearing this curse that was a constant reminder of his ignorance, his mistake, and his guilt. He had forgotten how fate had always been cruel to him, punishing him for all he had done, and so be it, meeting her in the 21st century should have brought him joy- there was only one problem, his love for her may not have decreased a drop, but she may love Poofy more than she ever loved him.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: death of a major character, war, PTSD.

A/N: Here's a quick peak of what this series will comprise, I wanted it to be a one-shot, but turning it into a series would be easier for me since this semester has me sobbing. If you want to join the tag list, please feel free to comment below! @edenesth HOW ARE WE FEELING ABOUT THE PIC? HMMMM?

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Rating: mature

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

"So, you're either a hook-up who hasn't left yet, which is hella creepy dude, it's 10 am- a secret boyfriend I was never told about which proves I have been a horrible best friend or you're a freak who broke inside mind you I am a cop."

He froze mid-walk, eyes wide and swirling with panic. His instincts were telling him to bolt out the door, but the tug in his chest followed by his heart dropping to his stomach had him frozen in spot, years- no millennia; he had kept safe, he had kept it a secret and to think he would be discovered not by the one destined to be with him, but this mutt- apologies, he used to be a mutt, centuries ago, the same time he had found his mate, ridding him of the curse. What stood before him now was a human, a reborn version of the hyperactive, clingy, filthy-

"I believe you're the creep who is my innocent Y/N's dream man?"

"I can explain."

"Oh?" quirking his head to the side, his eyes scanned the other man, who was dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of his fresh shower hanging off the tips of his onyx locks and falling onto the carpet. Yunho’s hand was itching to reach his gun hooked to his belt, hidden with his jacket, he may have been a bit taller than the intruder, but the man looked well built, enough to put up a fight, so he may need to make this quick.

“I’m Poofy.”

“I- you’re what?”

“Poofy, the cat, Y/N’s cat, the one she saved.”

“I might need to call for backup.” He mumbled to himself, taking out his gun and aiming at the barely covered man.

His eyes widened at the statement, shaking his head as he raised his hands in the air, “Listen to me, I’m not lying, Yunho.”

His name caused him to pause, so the intruder knew his name, huh, “How long have you been stalking her?”

“I haven’t I- a millennia later and you’re still so annoying,” letting out a whine, the man stomped his foot against the carpet, the movement leading his towel to slip off, both men freezing as soon as the plush, wet material hit the ground, their eyes meeting for a split second before Yunho’s trailed down, pausing and taking in the sight.

“I don’t remember if she ever mentioned a big-

“I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING TO HER, YOU DAMN MUTT.”

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eyes-above--the-waves · 5 months

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The Leafs 2023-2024 Belt Pics Ranked By How Much Joy They Spark, Part 6: #20-16

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

Part 3 is here

Part 4 is here

Part 5 is here

#20

First belt pic of the year. AM34 sets the Tone.

#19

The oldest man in the world poses with noted violent goon.

#18

I'm pretty sure he was awarded the belt for simply existing, which is extremely valid

#17

A much better angle!

#16

Get some smile?

#toronto maple leafs #hockey #auston matthews #mark giordano #morgan rielly #calle jarnkrok #david kampf #ilya samsonov #belt pic series

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teambyler · 6 months

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Will's anti-Vecna song should be David Bowie's "Heroes"

We know from the new BTS pic that he has headphones and a Walkman. Like Max, he might be fending off Vecna:

Max's anti-Vecna song was highly personal to her. It helped her through her guilt and depression and feeling like she deserved to die.

For Will, "Should I Stay or Should I Go" is cute, but it doesn't have emotional weight. It might have helped a child Will in the Upside Down in s1, when it made him think of home and Jonathan, but he's all grown up now. He's changed.

If Byler becomes realized, David Bowie's "Heroes" is the perfect song for Mike and Will's relationship that would help Will resist Vecna. It's canon that Will likes David Bowie: kid Mike prefers the androgynous rock star over Kenny Rogers (s2e1).

@surferbeto on YouTube comments:

This is a heroic love song. Bowie starts out crooning but pretty soon he ramps up and belts it out hard. This song is about risking getting shot by East German border police and dragged over barbed wire for love. This is about young love against impossible odds. It's about that gloriously tragic fantasy... of giving our life in some grandly romantic way to save the life of our beloved. Maybe by taking a bullet for them and dying in their arms in the shadow of the Berlin Wall.

Having David Bowie's "Heroes" in the show would call-back to Peter Gabriel's somber 2010 cover from s1, when Mike hugged his mom thinking Will was dead. But Bowie's original is defiant, triumphant, and bittersweet. (Seriously, if you haven't yet, listen to it before reading further. It's perfect.)

It would play when Mike and Will have their first kiss. Their song of losing each other is now of finding each other.

If Byler is realized, it could play as Mike and Will dare to hold hands in the school hall, as we fade out to the end credits.

Will would put it on his Walkman. If Will and Mike are bullied for their relationship, "Heroes" perfectly expresses their defiance and willingness to love each other despite the harm that might come to them.

It's the song that would most help Will in case he gets Vecna'd. It doesn't just remind him of Mike; it culminates his journey over the five seasons. As a kid he told Jonathan he's not a baby, not just a victim. Despite seeming shy and weak, he has a huge amount of quiet courage, but his struggle in s3 and s4 was largely internal. ("I'm not gonna fall in love.") Show creator Matt Duffer says about s5: "Will's going to be a big part and focus... We're starting to see his coming of age, really... You're starting to see him come into his own." If Byler becomes real, then his fight becomes external, confronting the homophobia in Hawkins and the literal hell threatening his friends. He will rise to the occasion.

"Will really takes center stage again in [season] 5," Ross Duffer told Variety. "This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality – it’s Will coming into his own as a young man."

In s2, Will only allowed Mike to protect him because he didn't feel pitied by Mike; Mike saw his strength. A stronger Will will pay him back and protect him from the twin dangers they face.

It's Will's turn to be the hero. His fight for others is his fight for himself. "Heroes" perfectly expresses his journey of defying all odds to fight for HIS RIGHT TO LOVE.

-teambyler

#byler #will defends mike with a gun #stranger things #vecna #speculation #song #should i stay or should i go #david bowie #heroes #headphones #walkman

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daisynik7 · 2 years

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nikki (or daisy) | 30s | she/her

Nanami profile pic credit to @pizzacastella!

requests are closed. minors do not interact. please read my rules/guidelines before following me and interacting with me, thanks!

Link to my ao3 | my tags: [nikki's nonsense - personal posts] [#recs - fics I recommend from other writers and audio (sfw/nsfw) recs] [#to read later - fics on my list to read later]

Masterlist:

Attack on Titan

Eren Jaeger Masterlist

Reiner Braun Masterlist

Jean Kirstein Masterlist

Connie Springer Masterlist

Trying: Mike x f!reader, smutty one-shot*

Road Rage Headcanons [AoT characters]

"Earned It" - Levi smut + fluff [y2k karaoke party]

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Kento Nanami Masterlist

Takuma Ino Masterlist

Aoi Todo Masterlist

Toji Fushiguro Masterlist

Suguru Geto Masterlist

Satoru Gojo Masterlist

Choso Kamo Masterlist

Chainsaw Man:

Kishibe Masterlist

Tokyo Revengers:

Lavender & Velvet* - Mitsuya x f!original character series (on-going)

Miscellaneous:

to all the boys who live next door - an anthology series*

men who are tired* - multi

Alucard's Belts* - Alucard x f!reader [Castlevania]

Bleeding* - Alucard x f!reader [Castlevania]

Completed Requests Masterlist | y2k karaoke party milestone event

[*indicates NSFW]

Most of my work is explicit and NSFW, so MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission! You can find most of the above stories on my ao3.

#masterlist #daisynik #nikki's masterlist #attack on titan #jujutsu kaisen #chainsaw man #tokyo revengers

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sgiandubh · 2 months

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Never on Mondays

Cue in the Reporting Bitch, re: my last post on stalking and inciting others to do so. To be honest, I was counting exactly on a reaction like this one:

Ok, dolls - fasten your seat belts.

It is my (and at the same time the general) understanding an NDA, signed either by cast or crew, protects anything that could be construed as 'confidential information' related to a film/TV series ongoing project, in order to prevent any unwanted leaks, before the release of said project.

Have a look at this widely used template in the industry:

[Source: https://employmentcontracts.com/nda/film/]

It is also my understanding the above is a template only, which is always adapted to the specific/detailed needs of the ongoing project it aims to cover. More often than not, it does cover any set related information, especially in a situation like OL's Season 8, where a lot can be speculated about adaptation choices and open ending. An ending which may or may not coincide with Future Book Ten (I hope I shall still be alive by the time she finishes it and mark me, I have just turned 46).

Peel your eyes here, punk, for a very informative thread about GoT - a much bigger production. But also one that went ahead of the source books, with the results we all know, by now:

[Source: https://www.quora.com/Do-people-working-in-the-TV-show-film-industry-extras-and-post-production-sign-NDAs-How-would-this-be-enforced-on-GoT]

But what happened? As many of you already know, a local newspaper, the Ardrossan and Saltcoats Herald, released some pics of the alleged set, with the following comment:

[Source: https://www.ardrossanherald.com/news/24494143.outlander-filming-taking-place-eglinton-country-park/]

Also, dolls and FYI. There is no 'Right to Roam Law' in Scotland. The only thing that deals with the 'freedom to roam' is the 2003 Scottish Land Reform Act and the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, detailing in very precise terms its enforcement. Your reference is useless (spare to give an impression you've got a smattering of law under your belt), because the two above texts cover just about any type of land you could think of, including public domain. For this is what Eglinton Country Park is, nowadays:

There is a difference, as far as law is concerned, between freedom to do something and the right to do that something. Freedom is general and abstract in scope: for example, the freedom for you to write whatever you want and look like a twat by doing so. A right is whatever that freedom grants you, limited by common sense obligations - it is personal and practical, as opposed to general and abstract. In the situation I have just mentioned: your right to write whatever you want and look like a twat by doing so, as long as it is not slander or libel.

In the Eglinton Country Park case, Mr. Gemmell had the entire right to photograph a public domain feature, as long as no restrictions to do so were enforced by the local authorities. They would have been, if filming were underway - but that was not the case, that particular day. I see no problem with that and I suppose the info was even tipped by the local OL production team, as it is almost impossible to control access on public domain without a reason to do so (see above filming limitation).

However, that was not the question asked by yesterday's Anon, nor the Fascist's response to it.

Let's take a look again:

Anon was wondering what scene could the Eglinton Park set be used for, but then moves on to 'the new house', which she thinks might be 'nearer the old location, but no one seems to have found it yet'. The Fascist answers, very logically, referring to the same New House: 'will be interesting if some fans find there [sic!] way there and take a few pix of filming'. There was no logical point to refer to Eglinton Park, a location that was already disclosed by local press.

Taking a pic of a set erected on public domain is not stalking, nor the result of an NDA violation, as long as there is no filming underway and the NDA violation cannot be substantiated. Taking a pic of a set whose exact location and legal status (private property or public domain) remain undisclosed, in the process of filming is both stalking and probably the result of an NDA breach by crew or secondary cast. According to paragraph 2.11 of the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, free access rights do not apply on

Failure to do so is considered as aggravated trespass, by the UK's Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 (Section 68):

[Source: https://www.outdooraccess-scotland.scot/]

Considering the above, the honest question to you is: are you guys idiots on a daily basis, or just on Mondays?

Asking for a friend.

[This post has been slightly edited several times, to clarify a couple of things. Sorry for that, but it had to be done.]

#fandom #shitshow #NDA #free access rights in Scotland #OL Season 8 #stalking #law #business

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summerclementine27 · 1 month

Text

Sign of The Times 🌹

Summary: Harry Styles is a Roman General who led his legions to many victories. He was favoured by the Emperor and known as an honourable General. Everyone also knows that he loves his wife, Y/N, more than anything, more than victory even, and dreams of seeing her again.

Time and place: Roman Empire sometime between 180 - 192 AD

warnings: bit of smut, breeding, and also old timey vibes due to roman era (so the smut is written in a funky old timey way but i decided to post it anyway).

notes: this is part three of my series of Harry Styles one shots that are inspired by his first album, I’m not doing the stories in order of the tracklist, and I also know that I am changing the meanings of the songs to fit the stories so for instance, sign of the times is about a mother who is dying while giving birth, but I changed it to be about a wife who is urging her husband to come back.

- pics of Harry or AI from Pinterest and the inspiration for this fic is gladiator lol.

The dust of Germania still clung to my skin, mixing with the iron scent of blood that had dried on my tunic. The battlefield had been ours, a victory to be sung by bards and etched into the annals of Rome. But as my men celebrated, raising goblets of wine to their lips, my thoughts wandered far from the camps and the spoils of war.

I could feel the ache in my side where the enemy's blade had found its mark—a shallow wound, they said. Easily mended with time and rest. Yet I craved neither the salves of the medics nor the comforts of the Roman city.

My thoughts were with Y/N, the woman who had waited for me through the years of war, who had kept my heart safe even as my body waded through the carnage of battle. The memory of her letters, the soft parchment that had borne her words across the miles, was a balm to my weary soul.

I cared for nothing as much as I cared for her, for all I prayed for during these years of battle was her safety. “Blessed father, watch over my wife with a ready sword. Whisper to her that I live only to hold her again, for all else is dust and air.” I recited every night, yearning to be in my ethereal wife's embrace once more, where the weight of the world would melt away in the serenity of her seraphic presence.

One of her last letters had arrived not long before the battle. I could still hear her voice in the words she had penned, a voice that had carried me through the darkest nights. I drew the letter from my belt, the parchment worn from too many readings, and let my eyes trace the familiar lines:

“My dearest Harry,” the letter began, “as I write this, I can feel the sun warming my skin, and I think of you, far away in the cold lands of the north. I miss you with every breath I take, and I pray for your safe return each night before I sleep. The fields here are flourishing, the olive trees heavy with fruit, but without you, this bounty feels hollow. The land awaits your return, as do I. I long for the day when you will return to me, when I can hold you in my arms once more, and we can live in peace, away from the horrors of war.”

Her words were sweet, like honeyed nectar upon the lips of a lover, gentle and soothing at first. Yet, as I read on, they grew earnest and urging, the ink heavy with her profound concern. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to the portion of her letter that held the deepest weight for my heart:

“Yet I know, as you read these words, your soul is entrenched in the depths of war, I understand that your mind is consumed with thoughts of victory, that your heart beats with the pulse of battle. But remember, my love, that while you fight for the glory of Rome, Rome shall endure, as she always has. It is you who may not, and it is you I fear to lose.”

Her words were like a gentle whisper, coaxing me back to the world beyond the battlefield. "I beg you, take care of yourself and do not tempt death, for you cannot bribe the door on your way to the sky, you cannot offer coin to the gatekeeper of the heavens, nor sway him with silver as you ascend. You look good down here on this mortal realm anyway. Do not die for Rome, live for her.”

“What shall become of us if we never learn? We have been here before, me tending to the fields of Hispania and you running from the arrows and swords, yet the two of us with the same fate; always caught stuck and running from the bullets. I know what the emperor demands of you, and I know you have led many battles to victory. You hesitate to leave, but you must, my love; you must find your way back to me. Just stop your crying, for this is but a sign of the times.

Stop your weeping, and have the time of your life. Break through the atmosphere of war and bloodshed, things are pretty good from here, Remember, everything will be alright.

Come home to me, my love, come back.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me, a balm for my weary soul. Come home to me, my love. The phrase echoed in my mind, a mantra that had sustained me through the darkest moments of the campaign. It was these words that had driven me to push forward, to fight for Rome but also to fight for my retirement. To earn the rest of my life back and spend it with my divine wife.

As I rode back to the camp, the letter tucked safely away once more, I repeated the words to myself. “Come home to me, my love.” It became a rhythm, a beat that matched the thudding of my heart, the pounding of my horse’s hooves against the ground. Each step brought me closer to her, to the life we had built together, and to the future that awaited us.

The camp was abuzz with the clamour of soldiers and the scent of roasting meat as I entered, my body still bearing the marks of battle and the weight of victory. The Emperor, draped in his imperial regalia, stood amidst his entourage, his presence commanding the respect of every man within sight. I approached with the measured steps of one who has fought hard and earned his rest.

He turned his gaze upon me, his eyes as sharp as the glint of his ornate armor. “General Styles,” he intoned, his voice carrying the authority of the throne, “when was the last time you were home?”

I stood tall, the weight of his question a heavy mantle upon my shoulders. “Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days, and this very morning,” I answered, my tone steady and resolute. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps in surprise or contemplation, as he considered my words.

His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of respect and expectation. “You have led our legions with great skill and valor, General. Rome still has need of such a commander. I urge you to remain in your esteemed position, to continue guiding our armies with the same honor and prowess you have so richly displayed.”

A solemn silence fell over the tent, the air thick with the weight of his request. I took a deep breath, my thoughts drifting back to the letter from my beloved wife, and to the quiet promise of peace that awaited me.

“Your Excellency,” I began, my voice steady but imbued with the gravity of my decision, “I have fought and bled for Rome, and I have served with every ounce of my strength. But my heart and soul yearn for a different path now. I have earned this respite, this time to lay down my sword and return to the life I once knew.”

The Emperor regarded me with a measure of frustration, his fingers drumming upon the armrest of his gilded throne. “You have been a pillar of our military might, General. To leave now, at the zenith of your glory, seems a disservice to the empire that has benefited so greatly from your leadership.”

I met his gaze with unwavering resolve, feeling the echoes of my wife’s words in my heart. “It is not disservice, but rather a fulfillment of a promise I made to myself and to her. I seek not glory nor honor from further battles, but the simple joy of returning to my wife and the life we dream of. My time as a general has been an honor, but it is time for me to embrace a different chapter, one of peace and companionship.”

The Emperor’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding—or perhaps resignation—crossing his features. “Very well, General Styles,” he conceded, his voice carrying a note of reluctant admiration. “If it is your wish to retire and seek solace in the embrace of your beloved, then it shall be granted. Rome’s gratitude will follow you, and your legacy will endure.”

I bowed deeply, the weight of my decision finally lifting from my shoulders. As I walked away, I felt a sense of anticipation and relief wash over me, knowing that soon I would return to the fields of Hispania, to the life and love that awaited me.

"My lord," one of the younger centurions approached me as I prepared to leave camp, a bandage in hand. "We must bind your wound."

I waved him off, though I knew the pain would only worsen on the long ride home. "I'll let my wife take care of me," I said, the words tasting sweet on my tongue, like the promise of harvest in a fertile field.

The journey back to Hispania was slow, each day stretching out like the endless plains we crossed. My thoughts were full of her—Y/N, my beloved, my anchor amidst the storms of war. The land of our villa in Hispania, a sprawling expanse of olive trees and vineyards, awaited me. But it was her presence, her tender touch, that I yearned for with each passing mile.

As my horse’s hooves drummed against the sun-baked earth, I imagined her in the fields, the wind tugging at her hair as she worked, her hands—those skilled, delicate hands—tending to the earth as she did to me. I could see her smile, that secret curve of her lips that had the power to unravel me more than any barbarian’s sword.

Finally, the fields of our home came into view, the golden light of evening casting a warm glow over the land. My heart quickened as I urged my horse forward, a boyish impatience overtaking me.

As I dismounted my horse and set foot on the familiar ground of our estate, I saw her standing there—my beloved, just as I had envisioned, her figure framed by the setting sun, a basket of olives in her arms.

The moment our eyes met, a wave of joy surged through me, overpowering the aches and weariness of battle. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, radiated a warmth and love that I had sorely missed.

Without hesitation, she ran to me, her movements swift and graceful. The air seemed to hum with the electricity of our reunion. As she enveloped me in her embrace, I was struck by the intoxicating scent of her—lavender mingled with the faint, sweet aroma of the earth, a perfume that spoke of home and tranquility. It was as if every hardship and wound I bore dissolved in the presence of her love.

Her arms, tender and gentle, clung to me with a fierce affection. I could feel the softness of her skin against my own, a stark contrast to the roughened textures of my armor and the hardened scars of war. Her touch was both soothing and electric, a balm for my bruised soul.

As our lips met, her kiss was a sweet, fervent promise, a bridge between the years of separation. Yet, as I pressed closer, a sharp twinge from the wound on my side made me wince. She noticed instantly, her eyes filled with concern.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice soft and filled with an anguish that mirrored my own. Her fingers, delicate and gentle, brushed against the tender spot on my side. “You’re hurt…”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper as I drew her even closer. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of her, the very essence of comfort and love, was a haven amidst the chaos of my return. “Nothing that your touch cannot heal.”

She led me inside, her movements tender and deliberate as if each step was meant to convey her deep affection and concern. The grand hall, though warmly lit by the flickering glow of the hearth, could not compare to the solace I found in her presence. As I sank into a plush chair beside the roaring fire, the heat from the flames did little to ease the persistent ache in my chest that only her touch could truly soothe.

I watched her with a heart full of gratitude as she worked with quiet diligence, her hands gentle yet skilled as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage and began to clean the wound. Her brow furrowed in concentration, each touch and movement imbued with a mixture of love and worry that spoke volumes of her care.

“You should have let the medics tend to you,” she chided softly, her voice a tender reprimand laced with concern rather than anger. The chiding was a balm, soothing and familiar, reminding me of the times we had shared before the endless battles.

“And miss the chance to be in your care?” I replied, my voice hushed but earnest. I reached up, my hand cradling her cheek, my thumb gently caressing the delicate curve. “I’d rather bleed out.”

Her lips curled into a small, affectionate smile despite her worry. She shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, General.”

“For Rome, perhaps,” I said, my thumb brushing tenderly against her skin, “but not for you.”

Once she was satisfied with the bandage, carefully wrapping it with a practiced hand, I drew her into my lap. The firelight danced in her eyes, casting a warm glow that made her seem even more ethereal. Her body fit perfectly against mine, the familiar curves and warmth a reminder of all that I had missed. As our eyes met, the hunger in mine was mirrored by the tender longing in hers.

“I’ve been gone too long,” I whispered, my lips finding their way to her neck. I trailed kisses along her soft skin, savoring the sweetness of her closeness. “I have missed you more than words can convey.”

Her hands wove into my hair, fingers trembling slightly as she tilted her head back, offering me more of herself. “And I you,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that seemed to float between us, a song of longing and love that had played in my dreams during our separation.

I lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in my arms as I carried her towards our bed—the same one we had shared since our wedding night, a sanctuary of our love and devotion. The silks beneath us felt cool and luxurious as I laid her down, the gentle moonlight streaming through the windows, casting a silvery glow that highlighted the exquisite beauty of her form.

As I undressed her with a reverence that bordered on worship, I whispered against her lips, my voice a soft murmur filled with longing and affection. “I have won many battles,” I said, my fingers tracing the curves of her body with a tender touch, as if trying to memorize every line and contour. “But none so sweet as the victory of coming home to you.”

Her hands, delicate yet determined, moved to the laces of my tunic, undoing them with a familiar urgency that made my heart race. “Then claim your victory,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and anticipation.

I lifted her into my arms, cradling her with a gentleness that belied the strength I had honed on the battlefield. As I carried her to our bed, my heart pounded not from the exertion, but from the overwhelming love I felt for her. The silk sheets, cool beneath us, seemed to whisper promises of solace and intimacy as I laid her down.

The moonlight streaming through the windows cast a soft, silvery glow upon her, making her skin shimmer like alabaster. I gazed at her with a deep, aching adoration, my eyes tracing the graceful lines of her form. Her beauty was both a balm and a flame, soothing the wounds of my soul and igniting a fierce, tender hunger within me.

I began by brushing my lips against hers, savoring the sweetness of her kiss as if it were the nectar of the gods. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and familiarity that made my heart swell. I lingered there, lost in the softness of her lips, my hands gently caressing her face, committing every detail of her to memory.

Slowly, I trailed kisses down her neck, my lips lingering on her pulse point. The sensation of her warm skin beneath my mouth was a caress to my senses, and I felt the urgency of our reunion deepen with every touch. Her breath quickened, mingling with mine, as I moved lower, pressing my lips to the delicate curve of her collarbone.

With trembling fingers, I worked at the laces of her dress, the fabric white and pure, reminiscent of the gown she had worn on our wedding day. As I loosened it, the dress fell away, revealing the soft, flawless skin beneath. My gaze was ravenous yet reverent, taking in every inch of her with a fervor that spoke of my adoration and longing.

I kissed her shoulders with a devotion that made each touch a silent vow. My lips traveled down her arms, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her shiver with delight. Each kiss was an offering, a testament to the depth of my love for her. As I reached her breasts, I pressed my lips to the soft curves, my tongue exploring with a reverence that bordered on worship.

My kisses continued their journey down her stomach, lingering at the gentle rise and fall of her ribs, tracing the lines of her hips. I marveled at the warmth and softness of her skin, my hands following the path my lips had taken, reverently mapping every contour. The sensation of her skin beneath my touch was a heady mix of comfort and desire.

When I finally reached her most intimate place, I paused, my breath coming in ragged whispers. My heart raced with a powerful mix of longing and adoration. The moment was charged with an intensity I had yearned for during the long years apart, and I could feel the heat of her skin beneath my lips.

With a deep, reverent kiss, I pressed my lips against her, my tongue gently exploring the softness and warmth of her. Her taste was intoxicating, and the sensation made my entire body shiver with pleasure. I heard her gasp, a soft, breathless sound that urged me on.

Her hands gripped the sheets, and I could feel her hips moving subtly, seeking more of the contact she craved. "Harry," she moaned softly, her voice a desperate whisper of desire.

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with devotion and love. "You feel so incredible," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "I want you to know just how much I adore every part of you."

She responded with a breathless sigh, her body arching instinctively towards me. "Please, don't stop," she pleaded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

My kisses became more fervent, turning into reckless licks, my movements ever so insistent as I reveled in the sweet, warm taste of her. The sounds of our pleasure filled the room, a symphony of soft moans and urgent whispers that only deepened my desire.

I was consumed with a profound longing for her, a desire that had only grown more fervent over the long years apart. Every moment of our separation had amplified my need to show her the depth of my affection, to make her experience the boundless pleasure that only I could bestow. I was keenly aware of the passage of time and wondered if she had discovered any means to reach such ecstatic heights as I would now bring her. The thought of her satisfaction, the notion of her feeling pleasure as intensely as I had imagined, drove me to the brink of my restraint.

With my touch, I sought to awaken her senses, my fingers caressing her with an ever-gentle firmness, the warmth of my hands mingling with her soft skin. My other hand began a tender exploration, slipping slowly, reverently, into her most cherished sanctuary. Each movement was deliberate, intended to elicit the utmost response from her.

“You like that, my dearest?” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion and desire, my breath hot against her ear.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her voice a melody of pleasure and anticipation, her breath catching in soft gasps.

“I am determined to make you feel nothing but bliss,” I continued, my heart pounding with the intensity of my commitment. “I wish to taste and honor this sacred chamber of Venus, to give you pleasure that will leave you breathless and yearning.”

I leaned closer, my lips finding their way to her most intimate folds. With tender, loving care, I began to explore her, each kiss a testament to my devotion, each touch a silent vow of my love. My goal was to bring her to the pinnacle of delight, to ensure that every sensation was as exquisite and overwhelming as possible, so that she might feel the depth of my longing and the fullness of my return.

In the quiet sanctuary of our shared chamber, a question lingered on my lips, charged with both tenderness and longing. “Did you pleasure yourself while I was gone” I inquired, my voice a gentle murmur.

Her reply came softly, laden with devotion and a hint of wistfulness. “No, my love. I awaited your return.”

Her words stirred something profound within me, an awakening of emotions that had lain dormant through the years of separation. I felt a deep, aching desire to make amends for all the time lost, to bestow upon her the pleasure that had been denied to both of us.

“I yearn for you to find your release, my dearest Y/N,” I said, my voice trembling with fervent intensity. “Release it all, love.”

As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, I could feel the shudder of her release against my tongue. The sweetness of her pleasure was intoxicating, a testament to the depth of our connection. In that moment, I knew that we both craved something more profound, a union that would fulfill the yearning that had grown between us over the years.

With a fervent determination, I slowly withdrew, my breath ragged and my heart pounding with a mix of longing and anticipation. I positioned myself above her, our eyes meeting in a gaze filled with mutual desire and unspoken promises. The need to be fully united with her, to deepen our connection, surged within me.

Her gaze was filled with trust and desire, and I moved with a tenderness that spoke of my deep affection and longing. Slowly, deliberately, I entered her, feeling the warmth and softness envelop me and savoring the way she wrapped around me, the way she sighed my name as if it were a prayer.

“Harry,” she moaned, and I grew concerned, fearing that the unfamiliarity of my touch after so long might be causing her discomfort.

“Are you alright, my love?” I murmured, my voice low and tender, brushing a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of pain and yearning.

“Just... a bit,” she replied, her voice trembling with the effort to contain her emotions.

I continued to move with gentle persistence, my hands exploring her body, seeking to soothe her discomfort. As I found a rhythm, she began to relax, her moans growing more fervent, more eager. The shift from discomfort to pleasure was evident in the way her body responded, and I felt a deep satisfaction in knowing that I was bringing her the release she had longed for.

“Tell me, my love,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers as we moved together, “how does it feel?”

“It feels... so much better,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body arched beneath me. “Harry, yes…”

“I want to give you more,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “A family, a future... I want to watch you swell with our child, to retire from the battlefield and spend my days here, with you.”

Her breath hitched at my words, and her eyes shone with a mix of desire and longing. “Yes, Harry… I want that too,” she whispered, her voice a melody of affection and need.

As we continued, I found a rhythm that was both passionate and tender, the connection between us deepening with every movement. I kissed her lips, my hands roaming over her body, savoring the softness and warmth of her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer intimacy of our union.

“I will plant my seed in you,” I vowed, my voice filled with raw emotion. “And you will carry our legacy. Our child will grow strong in your womb, just as our love has grown in this land.”

Her climax hit with a shuddering intensity, her body tightening around me as she cried out my name. The sound was both a release and an invitation, and I followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a groan that echoed my deepest feelings. In that moment, I imagined the life we would create together, the child that would be born of our union.

As we lay entwined in the soft embrace of our bed, the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over our bodies. The silks beneath us were cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the heat of our passionate union. The scent of her, a delicate blend of lavender and the earthiness of our garden, filled the air and enveloped me, mingling with the aroma of our shared pleasure.

Her skin felt like silk against my fingertips as I traced lazy patterns across her shoulders and down her sides. Her breathing was slow and deep, a soft rhythm that matched the steady beat of my heart. Every sigh and murmur from her lips was a melody I’d missed more than I realized during our years apart.

“You look radiant,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion as I gazed at her. Her hair was a tangled cascade of dark curls, spread across the pillow like a halo. Her eyes, still clouded with the remnants of our passion, sparkled with a light that seemed to illuminate the room. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.”

She turned her head slightly to meet my gaze, her lips curved into a smile that was both teasing and tender. “And I’ve waited for it just as long,” she replied, her voice a soft caress. “You’re as wonderful as I remembered, Harry. I’m so proud of you, all you’ve accomplished. And this house—” she gestured vaguely around us, “—it’s been my joy to care for it, to make it a place where you could return and feel at home.”

Her fingers traced a gentle path along my chest, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing across her soft skin, and leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you too, for everything. For holding our home together while I was away, for your strength and your love. It means the world to me.”

Her eyes softened, and she nestled closer, her body pressed against mine in a way that made me acutely aware of the new life we had created together. “And now,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and wonder, “we have something even greater to look forward to. I’m honored to carry our child, Harry.”

I let out a deep, contented sigh, my hands resting on her still-flat belly. “You’re going to be breathtakingly beautiful with our child growing inside you,” I said, my voice husky with anticipation. “I can already imagine the way you’ll glow, the way your body will flourish as you carry our little one. You’ll be radiant, like a goddess.”

Her laughter was soft and musical, a sound that filled me with an overwhelming sense of happiness. “I can’t wait to see you as a father,” she said, her eyes shining with love. “Our child will be so lucky to have you.”

I kissed her again, this time more deeply, my hands roaming over her curves with reverence. “And I can’t wait to watch our family grow,” I said. “I imagine them running through our garden, playing in the sun, filling our home with laughter and joy. We’ll watch them grow, teach them, love them. It will be a new adventure, one that I’m eager to begin.”

Her smile widened, and she traced a finger along my jawline, her touch light and playful. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way. Together, we’ll build a life full of love and happiness.”

As we lay there, our bodies intertwined, the weight of the past seemed to lift from our shoulders. The wars, the battles, the bloodshed—they were behind us. What lay ahead was a new journey, one of love and life, and I knew that with her by my side, it was a victory I would cherish for all my days.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles story

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